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Something Cool Sounding
Reblogged from the25thviolence
wow i have to rewrite this already because it wouldnt let me copy paste something simple into there, i already hate this thing….. i write and do writering. This is another channel for the things i do. I tweet alot @cazjuice and all my writering goes on http://cazjuice.blogspot.com/ .
I thought i would start out with something i wrote awhile back. Its my view on writering. I am doing this so i dont get a bunch of complaints about “oh you spell everything wrong”, “your grammar is just horrible”, and “i hate you”. And oh wait to copy and paste again omg im going to kill this thing…..
Freedom
As i crawl thru the broken glass lined cave i think about the friends i have just loss, the death i have just seen, and the death i have so acceptably walked myself into.
It all started with a kiss, so sudden, so light, so soft. It was beautiful and amazing. The moment felt like a magic spell was cast upon us and time stood still.
The battle has been raging on for its 23rd hour now. Both armies have moved nowhere. Millions have died. All the dead faces i see on the ground just become a blur now. My only focus is on surviving till my next breath.
With the stroke of a pen you paint a picture of a lush rain forest or inside a debilitated factory. With our words we created beautiful works of art that no one has ever seen before. Each story is a new world. Each poem is a new person.
A pen is my brush and the words will be my paint. May it be written out or typed. My words will create a new universe for you to explore with your mind.Thank you for reading my first post on here.
Hey past me. Its me, future you. It’s been a long decade. We don’t go by cazjuice anymore its a dead name. We don’t even use blogspot anymore. Some crazy basketball/meme fantasy writer scooped you up for a hot second and you had a cool website. It was fun but eventually you lose the website because of depression, money, its kind of hard running a website.
You meet a lot of people. Surprising neither of us you move on from a lot of people over this time. Surprising both of us you somehow know 3 people for a very long time.
The writing changes and grows. We barely do ourselves but the words pull us forward. We overcome a lot during this decade. We get punched in the face a lot. Knocked down a lot. Broken a lot. We keep standing back up. Its like you said, its all we know how to do.
Our new name is Zero__Violence but it mite not be permanent. Were constantly running from being known right now. Trying to feel comfortable in our own skin again.
My only advice to past you is punch back harder than they punched you. When all is lost, find it. And when no one wants to do what is needed, do it yourself. When the world refuses to spin, get behind it and start pushing. Atlas was weak and we our stronger.
Till a decade later.
Well this is supposed to be the grand reopening of my soul. A reintroduction of sorts. My name is Justin and I currently go by Zero__VIolence. I lost a lot of writing from my life during the great void. I deleted a lot of my online footprint. Did my best to disappear. Got found. Now I’m angry. I tried to rescue all my old writing I could and reblog it to this blod so it would still exist for me. Also reblogged a lot of things I liked from my old blog. Parts of my soul I wanted to keep in this next stage.
I tweet (more like rant and spam) from @Zero__Violence https://twitter.com/Zero__Violence I post still overwatch videos on youtube from https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCVDVsrNKY2mzu7SvJ1oVnrA
You can even find me on Spotify as Zero_Violence. I like to make 10 song playlists for moods. So its basically depressing 90% of the time.
I’m going to be writing again here. I’m going to be alive again here. I mite go grab the last few writering things I did (I love that word old me). But for the most part I start back up again now.
Welcome back to this glimpse of my soul.
I think its time I move on from here and leave this place behind like an old journal in the attic. In the future maybe some kids will find this place and read it. Drowning in the words like I did.
I need to step away to step forward. And if I’m going to fall apart every other day I’d rather do it where I can’t be seen. I still do this with the calming thought that I know no one will show up. Like a cliche character getting on a plane to fly away forever. No forgotten character running thru the terminal after me yelling wait. I know I do this without loss. Its weightless. Its clear. Its an empty feeling.
I’m still changing my favorite color. I regret sharing that.
I’m changing my favorite book. I regret sharing that.
I’m talking to less people. I regret talking to anyone at all.
Somethings still feel like mine and I refuse to let go.
But who I was is just a memory of a person I no longer am.
So when they try to remember me. They won’t be able to hold onto me anymore. I’m taking myself away, even the memories.
I’m not asking you to forget me. I’m telling you your no longer allowed to remember me. I’m taking myself from the people who I should of never trusted.
So easy to walk away when no one asks where your going.
The silence broke me. The waiting broke me. The forgetting. The ignoring. The pushing away. And the pulling back. I told you absolute silence is the meanest rudest most hard hearted thing you can do to somebody. I wasn’t wrong. I became less than alive.
My life will not get better.
I will not be ok.
Stop lying to yourself about me.
I’m tired of being lied to even when I’m not around.
Let me face the world with honesty. Its so much easier to see this way.
Goodbye to no one but myself. I’m the only one deserving of that word.
I think I’ll wash away now.
and I hate this feeling of wishing ill will onto others. hoping they hurt just as much as I do. Its not good for the world. I don’t feel like a good person anymore. I just want to punch the world till it shatters the way it shattered me. Its been too much for too long. I can’t care as much as I used to and it pains me. And I feel like I lost so much of myself. I feel directionless. Like I need to go somewhere but I’ve forgotten the place. I’m sure it was next to that gas station. Maybe at the next light. Maybe I’m on the wrong side of town now….
The dark feels so bright to me. It was painful when I knew I shared some things because I could feel it all ending soon. And I had never gotten the chance to share those things I loved. But I snuck them in at the end. Right before the great void inserted itself into my life. And suddenly everything about myself reminded me of how much I was hated. And the world was just really dark for a really long time. Darker than I was used to. Dropped down to a new level of hell. One I wasn’t expecting yet. And all the weapons I used to survive I had given away to others.
I thought I would start to get better once I started to move forward. But the memories don’t rub off. They don’t go away. Because a part of me still trying to find the pieces missing from me. It doesn’t know where they went. Just a deep yearning for what I tossed in the fire. And I can never get those bits of myself back. A gaping bit of me waiting for what I once had.
I really regret letting people in during a year like this. I really opened the door to get fucked up by the world. It hit so hard. I lost so much in the aftermath.
I think this falls into that group of things I’ve had a really hard time verbalizing in my life.
Like living with multiple disable people and the emotional draining it does to me.
Saying that my family does almost nothing for each other. Not even the bare minimum. To the point an old co worker had to take me away for the day because i wanted to kill myself
I don’t find it hard to say that though. I’ve wanted to kill myself multiple times in life. And I always found myself standing back up because I knew the world wasn’t finished with me. More pain was waiting and I wasn’t done with paying the tabs of my families mistakes.
I remember one time a few years ago. Everything hurt so much. All of it. All at once. And my brain just gave up. It could no longer create the chemicals needed to be that kind of sad. And I just sat there with an extreme emptiness inside of me.
Like when I was 27 and I realized I had lived longer without my dad than with. And it all just kind of settled in my chest for once in my life. And my world started spinning again for the first time since I was 13.
My nephew tried to kill himself multiple times last year. My mom started the year dealing with cancer. My brother is getting divorced. I have to move in with him soon so he has a place for his 4 kids. My mom’s house has a leaky roof and no heat. And I worry what will happen to them if I leave during the winter. My brain tells me will work and be at 2 homes at once. Till it breaks us no matter what. We survive to keep them alive. We bare it. Its not heavy its existence and nothing more than yourself can weigh you down. So the heavier I still remain the same. So I stand up each time I fall down.
I still can’t say friend. I slip up when trying to explain something quickly. Always saying “this person I know” or “someone I used to work with” or “this guy I used to play overwatch with” or “some kid I know that coaches teams” etc etc etc. Never friend. I don’t want. I can’t have.
billions of people have lived on this planet and so many of them never got what they needed to exist, to live, to be loved. No shame in being another nameless soul passing thru the life cycle of this rock. Its small. Its meaningless. But I just want to make sure the people around me hurt as little as possible.
I always felt like I wasn’t allowed to die. That I could take so much more pain than everyone else. So it was ok to be yelled at, made fun of, hit, battered, and destroyed. It wouldn’t break me all the way. It never would And after awhile. I would just stand right back up.
The world is a weak place. When the child stands on the chair and pretends to be tall. It is not are place to knock them down and remind them of who they are. But to bare with the sudden height from which there small hands as they beat against my chest. Feign pain. Imitate the idea that I am weak. And let them experience a small bit of happiness to help them feel better.
I’m not sure where this was going. But I feel like every time I say something I couldn’t before. The bruises and still bleeding wounds make a little more sense. And my aching body receives a small bit of understanding.
I’m stronger than I am willing to admit.
That’s ok.
Some people aren’t.
And that’s ok.
Some people act like they can abuse this though.
And that’s not ok.
Two different people to take the pain the world gifted us.
One to call it unfair.
And one to sit up and hope there ok.
What must the world of done to them to make them hurt others so.
If I can bare it long enough.
They’ll hurt a little less.
And the world will have 2 less painful people in it.
Do you crumble or do you melt from your bones?
Does the thought of what happened eat your brain.
Each time your eyes blink a little bit of you is consumed.
When your empty.
And gone.
Do you think the world will stare down at your slumped over corpse?
And ask if your ok.
Or will this planet keep spinning.
One sunset.
One sunrise.
After another piling up till the wind sweeps you away.
And when the world looks down at you.
It’ll see nothing.
Like it did all the times before.
