Adding Reply Archived Topic: It will not be bumped to the top of the forum. Topic A Chasm of Unexplained Frustration Membername   Not a member? Sign Up Free (takes 20 seconds) Password   Forgotten your password? Post Font: Verdana Arial Black Georgia Comic Sans Impact   Size: Tiny Normal Big Huge   Color: Default Dark Red Red Orange Brown Green Olive Cyan Blue Dark Blue Indigo Black [ Check Spelling ] [ Post Preview ] [ LiveTags ] FAQ Keyword Search: Post Options Favorites Manager Notify me of new replies to this topic by email Notify me of new replies to this topic by private message Original Post Anonymous Posted at 3:47 pm on Mar. 21, 2008 A chasm of unexplained frustration, a weight of veiled guilt, the pressing of unheeded loneliness, the silence of unheard anxiety. When I go home tonight, I go home to no one, no responsibilities, no projects, no distractions, no calls to be made, no friends to jest with, no studies. There are a million things that I could do - I could clean the mess in the kitchen that has been waiting for me all week, I could pick up the clothes in the shower-room, I could arrange my living room to make it look nicer, all this, but for whom and for what reason? I haven't had a visitor since I can remember. No one sees it but me, and I've no reason to impress myself with any sort of cleanliness. I know the mess that is within myself, and how to clean that, I know not, so why worry about the externals? When one asks if they may visit, or if I ask them to, selfishly, oh how quickly the apartment transforms into a five star living area! Much like myself. A mess throughout the week when no one else sees me... pounded right and left with my sinful heart, but once I am with the Church, how spiritual I seem! But the moment the last visitor leaves, I fall to pieces. A façade. I am, in short, a fake. An idiot. A selfish sinner who cares for nothing but how he appears to others. If you wish to see me... stop by unexpected. There I am. Oh how disappointing... and the disappointments are great and not few, when one says they will visit, the day is spent in preparation to receive such a visitor, everything is put in order, and then he cancels. My heart sinks as I look around the tidied apartment. Pointless. I do not weep any more for the loneliness that I face within... no. Why do that? If that would make anything better I would be weeping from night to morning, and the problem would have long been eradicated, for I think that if all my tears were to be bottled up, a full sized bath tub could not hold them all. I have grown numb to it, accepted it. An invisible shell is about me that none are privy to save for those that I allow to see it, and they are few and have not been well selected in the past. My hand is still sore, the scars on my arm faint but there, unnoticeable to those who don't care to notice. But, oh that I would be able to shed this horrible chasm of unexplained frustration, this weight of veiled guilt, the pressing of unheeded loneliness, the silence of unheard anxiety. My heart has been broken so many times... I have duct-taped together what remains and I hide it for fear of what may become of it if it is ever seen again. It seems that everything I love I must die to. There is one final thing, one final hope, but I fear without anxiety, rather a fear of understanding what is most likely to come and, though unwillingly, understandingly accepting the death that waits for me. My God is good to allow such deaths as I must learn to trust Him more, and the deaths that have passed before are great in their efficacy to grow this child of God, and this final one may be the greatest of them all. But my heart will be my own and no one else's. The façade will become permanent - I will love others, but hate myself with an utter loathing that one would wonder how it hasn't led to self murder. I leave that to God. I do not know my heart well enough to say.

Replies Anonymous Posted at 7:20 pm on Mar. 22, 2008 Lock the gates! Bar the doors! Seal the iron chest and bury it deep in the pit where none can find it, where none shall know of its existence or of its vile despicable nature! Oh that loathsome thing! Set the traps! Erect the warning placards! Army the sentry-men! Better for any friend or foe to die than that they should stir that cruel device back to life, better that they should suffer a horrendous death than that they should be cursed with the knowledge that they stirred that viscous fiend from its slumber! My heart shall never be seen again, never shall it beat for another, never shall it hope again for that which it has been and must be denied. The duct tape has been removed, the pieces torn asunder, the pit has been dug and piece by wretched piece it has been dropped into the abyss, and I with cold hands, no heart, an unfeeling mind with not a trace of tears turn to walk away, abandoning all hope swearing by life or death to never to let another near, though my life shall be a sacrifice for others. Cursing myself for believing that another could love such a wretch as I, and I turn to leave. Strange that I should find it hard to breathe as I retrace my steps carefully so as to not set off the traps, strange that the empty chasm of unexplained frustration, the weight of veiled guilt, the pressing of unheeded loneliness, the silence of unheard anxiety should stir within me once again... oh leave me! Leave me! How I hate these vile feelings! I hate them! I tear at my hair and shake my head, stomping the ground beneath me, hating everything within myself good or bitter, for that which is good can only be for a bitter end! Oh the selfish wretch that I am! I kneel to the ground, bending forward and resting my forehead against the cold tile as I slam my fist into the tile, bloodying my knuckles the white surface. Moments pass, and the rage subsides as I sit back on my heels - I wipe the dust from my eyes and slowly look towards the door before me... She gently smiles at me, waves, and goes on, unaware of the grief within, but knowing the pain without. Is there hope... no, it can't be... but, what if?... I race back through the traps, unlock the gates, unbar the doors, loose the seal on the iron chest after pulling it from the abyss below, and slowly open the lid to the broken pieces. I reach in slowly and pull out one of the peaces and stare for what seems to be hours. What could possess her to want these? But maybe... I pull out a rugged black sack and drop my heart into it piece by piece, and leaving the chest behind I walk to the door. I step out into the sunlight, and there she is, waiting with a concerned look on her face. I quickly hide the black sack with the worthless contents contained therein and walk up to her. "Are you ok?" she asks... "I am fine" I lie, she smiles, unconvinced, but nods as if she understands something I haven't told her. I start to walk past her, but she joins me, walking alongside only, not a word spoken, just there. The raging grief slowly begins to burn within, but for the moment it is pressed back... perhaps... MissChloeCooper Posted at 4:07 pm on Mar. 21, 2008 whoaa lol u reli did let it out lol x Anonymous Posted at 3:49 pm on Mar. 21, 2008 It would not be inaccurate to say that this is who I am. baybigurl513 Posted at 3:48 pm on Mar. 21, 2008 damn thats about how i feel about now .........sort of lol All 4 previous replies displayed.