Spark to Ignite- part one

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A story of a broken girl

Submitted: November 22, 2012

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Submitted: November 22, 2012

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Introduction

It grows inside of me, this insatiable emptiness that devours my whole being. I don’t know how to fight back. Helpless. I let it take over. Dying on the inside I cannot stop it; I don’t how to fill it in. I am losing myself.

I have lost myself. My mind is an empty void. Not searching for information to fill it, not searching for the spark to ignite. Losing all passion, all hope. I am gone. I feel my pulse, the blood rushing under my skin. That is all I am. A meatbag. Definition of self. Nothing to be proud of.

Certificates of accomplishments that mean nothing and do nothing. My life moves forward but my person regresses. Slipping back into old habits I am trapped. Unable to reinvent myself. what does one do but to try and hide. Realizing it’s impossible, my life shatters before my eyes. Sitting on the floor wishing to take the broken edges and slice myself but I can’t. I am stuck not knowing what to do.

“Home”, or rather, the place where I reside

I live in a house with three other girls. The dynamic and fluidity of their lives is something of a spectacle. If I was to define the lives of humans based solely on their actions, it would be desire. They are all full of lust and desire. Lost in the world of sex, relationship, and openness, their lives encompass them.

I envy them. I am trapped in a head of confusion, anxiety, regression.

They speak out. Fight for what they want. They live by the social normality in regards of dreams. The idea of living that way makes me want to kill myself. The idea of truly expressing who I am scares me to my core looping me to live by social norms. Eventually leading to suicide. I am not ready to die though.

The one below

She just entered a relationship. Ashley has been in love, I want to say, four times previously. This ginger though can be labeled as her first official boyfriend as she is his first. Sweet romance in its primal stages. I hear her squeal through the window.

Stop David. Followed by laughter.

How it echoes to my room above.

Her happiness radiates off of her. That beauty is something someone only wished they could capture.

The wall to the left

Her name is Zoe. As a long standing friend, I can say I love her. She is someone you learn to love, learn to adore. She was in a long standing relationship. 2 years? Shit hit the fan. She has found someone new. Someone by the name is Taylor. A new addition to the California fire department. Congratulations Taylor.

The wall to my left murmurs. Rarely do I hear the laughter that once radiated from her old room, though I know her happiness is there none the less.

Her desire is to make him happy. Clouded by the poisonous atmosphere of love, logical decisions sometimes surpasses her. One day she will learn how to take a step forward before the other person, but for now, she stays in the same position. Behind him. Don’t get me wrong though. It is something to be admired for when you support the one you love with everything you have. Zoe has so much to give.

Music to my right

In one word, Natasha could be explained as open. She will tell you answers to questions most people would shy back from.

Her desire is to be desired. To be lusted at by men, and maybe women. She connects with others in a more physical way. I do not know if she desires a relationship. Monogamy.

I hear the vibration.

She just went to the store. A new toy. A new form of happiness. Her music is turned on and the door shut behind her. Her desire is filled for the night.

I am the middle

I see it happen. I hear it happen. My location was completely accidental. I am surrounded by them.

A knock on my door.

Two hours pass by about a conversation full of one sided advice about the things that enwrap them in which they call life.

When will my time come? When will I feel the want to live and have the ability to live life with a continuous vibrant happiness?


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