imnotagae

[imnotagae]

I don't think it must've been hard for you to throw away something you had attained. I don't think it should've been hard for me, to hold on to something I never asked for.

How delightful it is, that for the first few times you reciprocated. How treacherous it became, when for the last few seconds, you showed no care.

I should thank you for the person you were, but curse under my breath for the person you changed into when I started to care. Life is a journey, I understand. There are those we meet along the way, that point directions to the right way.

You came into my life for a purpose, but who's to say that purpose is good. I did learn a thing a two, and that was not to trust and not to share. While you comforted my insecurities, you brought them to life. While you validated my emotional insanity, you soon became its cause.

I can't tell whether I acted on fear, or if my decision was irrational, or if I was dramatic, or if it was that deep. All I know is that I wanted to protect myself from the person you were becoming. A person I had feared you would become. A person I told you I never wanted you to be.

For it to hurt less, I left first. To save you the trouble, and to save me the pain.

#writers on tumblr #writer #writing

[imnotagae]

I think the universe is preparing me for death.

Everyday, I carry a foreboding, whilst every second I live in stagnancy.

If I had a future, i would have hope that my dreams would come true. If I were destined for success, I would be taking steps forward and not back.

I'm better off just a physical being. I have no family that loves me, no friends that treasure me. My dreams are disappearing, and I'm no longer performing.

I'm too broken to carry on, with nothing and no one left to impress. I'm too broken to be alone, with nothing and no one.

I'm tired of crying for a life I won't get. I'm tired of mourning the people that left. I'm tired of living through constant regret. I'm tired of laughing and smiling through fret. I'm tired of being just a reject.

I'm tired.

I was not meant to be born, but since I was, the universe prepares me for death. Like a butterfly effect, a garden was set, the afterlife is prepared for my entry.

It's only a matter of time.

#writers on tumblr #writer #writing

[imnotagae]

Yesterday was my birthday.

We talked all day, and laughed and played like little kids. I told you about me, and you told me about you. You cherished me and I cherished you.

Today is a regular day.

I texted you. You didn't text me. Something is wrong. Either with you, or with me. I guess the jokes you laughed at weren't really funny. Maybe the emotions we shared were simply scripted words, or prerehearsed to sound perfect. They sounded perfect.

I want to do more than write about you, I want to write to you. For once, I'm an open book, but to a closed book with a propaganda cover. Lie to me once, but when I request from you the truth, there isn't a reason to lie any longer. Lead me on, but when I ask if what we have is real, get rid of the path of lies and create truth above them.

Yesterday was my birthday, and you made me feel special. Like it was my day, and yours. Like it was our day.

Yesterday was my birthday. But today is just today.

#writers on tumblr #writer #writing

[imnotagae]

I Don't Care

I don't care about the raging war. So when you ask me to pick sides, show me evidence of dying lives, I'll tell you I'm not political, and block the rest of those children's cries.

I'll watch videos on my phone about everything comedic, and everything aesthetic, and everyone with privilege. But I'll wonder what privilege truly is, if on the other end of the world, luxury is being alive enough to breathe.

I don't want to care. I want to view the world the way the rest of the world does. Like a nihilist.

I don't want to feel like a villain for scrolling to a less heart wrenching video. I want to pretend it's just a movie on the screen, and not someone else's reality.

Please. Teach me how not to care.

Their pain burdens me. How is it that in order to provide you with empathy, I have to ask you to imagine it were your brother, or your nephew, or your child. Is it not enough that it happens to that of another being? If I have to go to those lengths in order to evoke any empathy in you, then the Human is missing in your human brain.

Guilt consumes me when I speak of Gaza, because I feel like yet anoter one of those who speak of it for likes, or attention and followers. To be told they're saints, heros, allies to those lucky enough to still be alive.

I've lost faith in the God that watched his people die, watched the people that killed them, and then watched the people that heard their cries, because He does what you did, and what I do. Nothing.

I pray that the human in you is like the Human in me, and is so consumed with care that it hurts too much. And it hurts so much that it became numb. And it was so numb, that you just didn't care.

Because what does it help to just care? Will it bring back lives? Will it bring back homes? Will it replace the hearts of the perpetrators with the one of yours that care?

I can grieve, I can share, but it won't help. So I don't care.

#gaza #free palestine #free gaza #writer #writers on tumblr

[imnotagae]

I do not fear God, but I fear His believers.

The people who analyze the Bible to criticize my life. Those whose ill morals are placated by viewing what others do as worst. It is not hypocrisy, unless the judgement is being directed towards them.

There's a darkness inside me, but it isn't a spiritual entity that possessed me, it is the mind gifted to me by the deity they praise. I don't fight with the devil to restore my faith, I fight with God's servants to atleast leave me be.

Tell the priest that the darkness that consumed me is not a sign that I chose the devil, rather a reflection of the betrayal that took place when I put my life in God's hands.

Send a message to the Latter Day Saints, reminding them that the cup of coffee I drank this morning is nothing compared to the suffering I endured as a spiritual member of their church.

If you honor your God so much, why do you spread his message to those who would treat His name with dishonor. If you wish to spread your gospel, why act like one amongst the crowd, and expect to be recognized as His disciple.

If I knew that a ticket to the kingdom of God would be to preach His word in vain, and spew the devil's message by heart, I would've viewed the world much differently.

I would've thought the thief to be noble, for his unjust acts are less evil than they are desperate. I would've thanked the sinner I could find with my naked eye, for they do not go "hail mary" with vengeful thoughts, and vile intent.

You all seem to forget, that the God you point me to is your God, and your God alone.

While your God walks around and judges, and hates, and shames, and punishes, and condemns..

Mine sits behind the gates of heaven, awaiting me to return with the perfect heart, mind and body that He created.

Not the one of your God.

#writers on tumblr #writer #writing #christian living #christianity

[imnotagae]

Today felt like a knife through my heart, so to soothe the pain, I wanted a blade across my skin. Tomorrow, it's going to feel like hell, so to prevent it, I want to swallow some lethal drugs and bid farewell.

For someone accustomed to pain, I have a hard time accepting it. After years of disappointment, you would think I would be unaffected by the hundredth time.

I refuse to give in. Because today was shit tomorrow will suck ass, but maybe next week will be different. I don't want to wait that long, but happiness requires resilience. I could give up today, and enter the world of death where I am told by many lost souls who had their lives taken unfairly that I should've waited.

Unlike them, I had the choice, to live or to die. Life, although uncertain, promises joy at some point. Death, although certain, is of no joy, no hope, just eternal foreboding.

I can choose to die, where I couldn't cry tears, not of happiness and not of pain. Where I couldn't smile, not from genuine delight and not to hide a frown. Where I don't stand to lose, but neither will I stand to win. I will have no doubt, for there isn't a hope to doubt on. I would feel no disappointment, for there isn't a purpose or dream that needs my fulfilling.

Is dying truly a choice? If I hate living because it feels like I've died already, then how would making death a true reality make it any better?

I don't want to die twice.

#writers on tumblr #writer #writing #tw depressing thoughts #depressing shit

[imnotagae]

I want my life put together, not by a God, or a human force or what one might claim is luck. Rather by my own doing, in order to prove self-reliance conquers doubt.

It would be better that I blame myself if I don't succeed, than to be disappointed by a force that wouldn't make it up to me. One that I won't be certain would make more of an effort for next time or not.

God, I wish to pray to Your heavens, but only when I've cleared the skies from dark clouds. Universe, I desire to trust you, but only when luck is eliminated from the equation, and the odds can be self manufactured to be in my favor. Mother nature, I will serve you, but only after Father time proves that my hard work promises prosperity.

Don't say I'm lucky, as I never did see a shooting star, nor a clover with four leaves. I don't believe in such a thing.

I beg, that one understands, that I owe it to no one, but my never dying faith in myself. Only then, will I feel truly successful. If otherwise, keep your fortune to yourself.

#writers on tumblr #writer #writing

[imnotagae]

MURDER ON MY MIND

Darkness isn't born, it's gradually nurtured. A new born baby isn't capable of thinking to harm anyone, as they cannot even fathom the concept of harm. It is the world that morphs an innocent boy into a malovent man. It's human nature that gives one the tendency to harm.

It begins with knowledge, awareness. When it becomes known to you that your surroundings surround you. When pain is your norm, and anguish is your tradition. When you're born into abuse, and raised into torture. The atrocities that you regard as your guardians, a mother who isn't a mother, a father by name.

I've got murder on my mind. A response to the physical atrocities inflicted onto me that I accepted as love. To the hugs that I never got, that were instead fists against my ribs. To the kisses that weren't that, but rather kicks aimed to inflict harm. I can seek affection, but am blind to it if it doesn't look like bruises and cuts.

I've got murder on my mind. Tell it to the devil that formed it. Kill or get killed, protection is only efficient through offense. The weak child has died, and the adult demonstrates an oppression that is confused for strength. A strength that won't be disregarded, underestimated, unarmed or subjugated.

I've got murder on my mind. To fuck up everything that has me fucked up. To express frustration through violation. To show aggravation through physical demonstration. The past unrevels through the future I became.

I've got murder on my mind. Except, it's not a man I wish to kill, no. It's the demon that possesses me, that was bewitched into me by the mother I came out of, and the father I was bred from.

As time continues its job, life resumes be, evil consumes me, anger will fume me, an anger of which my doom will be....

I'm gone. Murdered by my mind.

#writing #writers on tumblr #child abuse #author #emotional abuse #physical abuse

[imnotagae]

THE ARTIST

I want to meet the mind behind the words, to put a face to the masterpiece. I believe, in a way, we're alike. But if that were true, she would believe the same. How is it that I see me in her, yet she can't see the same. Delusion, that's how.

Regardless I'll wait. It's been days, and it feels like she's giving me the cold shoulder. It's been weeks, and I don't think she's interested. It's been months... I give up.

Then she responds.

How tortorous, that she will excite me for a second, then neglect me for days.

I wrote a story about us in my head, where we become. I trust you in ways I wouldn't trust anyone, and you me. I love you in ways I've never loved anyone, and you me.

Please reciprocate. Not to say you give my life meaning, but my life has no meaning unless you're in it.

Your work painted a picture of you, and I fell in love. I came too strong, as I forgot, that while I spoke to my heart's keeper, you responded to a mere stranger.

#writers on tumblr #writing #Writer

[imnotagae]

I'm an artist. To create is not my choice, it's my destiny. Whether I'm motivated or disheartened would not cease my expression, because regardless of what my emotions are, they continue to propel my artistic output.

I wouldn't be convicted for words I regret saying, as those words would not be said, rather written to be a secret between the pad and I. I couldn't be held accountable for irrational acts, as such actions have been expressed through my art.

I don't write on my own accord, rather by the calling which maintains equilibrium when a crisis arises. I cannot function without my art, otherwise I suffer tremendously.

My nails dig into my skin when my fingers should busy them self with the keyboard. My eyes tear up at a time when they should be paying careful attention to the spelling of the next coming words. My mind remisices, when it should wonder about rhyming, and about imagining fiction.

It is true, that some addictions are healthy. After all, if addiction is a form of escape, I've eloped with my art to some place greater, more clear, and more serene.

If man cannot stand torture, pass your torment onto an inanimate pad.

#writers on tumblr

[imnotagae]

Sometimes the emotions I block away, block off my expression. I can no longer write with enthusiasm as enthusiasm has left the chat.

Sometimes my emotional sickness becomes physical. I can no longer walk with confidence, speak with deliverance, or love with limerance.

Others call them demons that possess you day and night. They take over your mind and fill it with dread and horror. I call it a part of myself. Like a personality trait, or a habit.

Whether the people around me suffer isn't a choice of my actions, it's reasoned with my suffering.

Tell me why stagnancy began to run my life, and deterioration became the fate of my emotional state. How is it that when happiness is lost, dreams are forgotten, hope is forgotten, life is sought to be reversed, alas I was begotten.

#writers on tumblr

[imnotagae]

JAME'S CONFESSION (a short story)

James Smith had followed the echoes of guilt to the roof of his apartment building, where he stood looking down at the distance to the floor.

Only the pure at heart become so consumed by guilt that they cannot bare to live with it.

He lived a thief. A murderer. A life of crime, and selfish acts meant to make life easier for himself.

Tears poured down his eyes. He cried for the people he killed. For the families he'd hurt. For the lives he'd ruined. He cried for the act he was about to commit. His final crime. The fires of hell awaited him, as he succumbs to devil's last wish.

He looked up at the sky, and the heavens looked down at him.

"Lord. You've spawned an abomination." he yelled.

It may have been the voices in his head, but a voice responded from the heavens.

"The Lord your God creates man. His holy hands cannot spawn an abomination."

More tears escape his eyes. "The man You have made has become Lucifer's puppet."

"The man I have made stands before me begging for my mercy."

"I beg for nothing but your judgement and your rejection. I will stain your white nation, they will turn black from my evil touch."

"What judgement do you seek, James?"

"Judgement for my acts, Father."

"I am mercy. I am peace. I am all things which are good. How dare you mock me? Only mankind will judge you for your acts. The Lord judges according to intention."

"I intended to kill-"

"The devil wishes you to believe so."

"I..." he hesitates. "I intended to live. To feed myself, and my family. To put a roof over my head."

"Confess, James."

"I confess." he cries. "Money had possessed my being. Human nature influenced my acts. But Lord, my heart remains the one you've given me."

The voice roars. "Confess to your sins, James."

"Father I confess. To eat, I stole. To survive, I killed. These are not my sins, they are acts of helplessness."

"Tell me your sins."

"Father, I have sinned. I have taken the devil's word before Yours. I had given him power to dictate my life." he kneeled down, his hands on the ground beneath him. "I have sinned Father. I had rejected Your name, and forgotten what You had given me. I have sinned because the life I had followed was against the righteous path, it was against your plan. Forgive me, Father."

"The forgiveness you seek is a gift I had long given to you. Along with the agency to accept it. Live James. Live in my name. When the time is right, you will sit among my children on my thrown."

#christianity #writers on tumblr #christian living

[imnotagae]

I don't believe in ghosts, but I believe that I've lost people I once knew that walk the street everyday just as I do. They look away at the sight of me, and I turn my head when our eyes meet.

Ghosts aren't real. But when I said my final goodbye to the person I loved all my life, their soul continued to be binded with my own. Their memory never left my mind.

They didn't have to leave the world to be out of my life, they just left me. Every so often, I think to visit, but then remember I'm dead to you, and you to me.

There's no such thing as ghosts. Just lovers I lost to our differences.

#writers on tumblr