Justice In Death

As I travel through this predicament, this pain, I have beliefs. An understanding, of myself.
I am weak.
If I can't make it through this, if I die, killed by another, if my body can't take it any longer, if I take my own life, or when, I hope it will be a truth told to the world....
How the justice system can turn on a victim
How cruel they can be.
How they can blame me for what was forced upon me. The horrible things I was made to do.
The shame I am made to endure...all for the sake of others.
To protect those who came to hate me because of the monster who consumed me, body and soul. Took everything from me, and continues to try.
I want my death to proclaim the injustice given to victims world wide.
Mostly the women of the world, but also those men who where forced to endure horrible things.
When the wombs that carry the life of the world are tortured and treated as objects, as things, then the entire world suffers. This is a truth we cannot escape.
But why should be made to continue on in this life with these disgusting memories? Why should I have to pay the price, again, for the crimes of another?
I am tortured daily by the reminder of what I was made to do...just, so others would not suffer as I had, so that others would not die, so that those I loved would not be harmed.
Now I sit here dying because my body rejects everything that had been forced upon it. Can I ever live a normal life? Can I live?
I believe that answer to be know. Now one should be punished for the disgusting things that have been forced upon me.
The Pain.
The shame.
The horror.
And the fact that if I die, in a way they do win, but maybe other's will be saved, will be heard.
Because while I lived many did not listen.
They let it happen.
They punished me for the pain I was suffering.
They let it happen. And made me pay for it.
What is the point..........
There is no such thing as justice.....

Airing Of Grievances

I could say there is much for me to feel ill about. So much pain. Sigh. But I can't feel angry. I think I was for bits, and some times for pieces, but never wholly or continually. I just cannot feel that way. I feel sorrow, overbearing sorrow. Sadness. So much. It is to much. Weighing me down. I feel like crying out my tears and my fears for all the world to hear, alas they will fall on def ears. Like they have for all my life. And now I sit alone, wanting nothing to do with this world, ever again. So much easier to just hide away. To die. Sigh. I just can't take all this horror in my head. Repeating over and over everything, so disgusting. And people dare to label that love. If that is so...i don't want it.....so in this i will....grieve....

Life Is Death

There is this rotting pain, deep in my stomach. Churning, burning, fuming...disgusting. I feel hurt. I feel hate. I feel...to much. I feel numb.
The memories burned in to the back of my eye lids that haunt me in my sleep. But darkness fills my days. My mind can't make sense of it all, sadly, my body does. The reactions of actions taken so long ago, or maybe not that long ago.
Some children were killed today. By a very broken person. They morn for the children. I can see why. I wish I could be one of them...so I would have to deal with the shit I've been through. So I could be set free. But yeah, morn for them. I suppose I do. Innocence lost. Souls who watched, burdened, forever, Stained. This society doesn't care enough about the things that could help this...no we talk about guns and rights. That man had a right. Not to kill. Not to hurt. That is never a right. Taking a life is a heavy burden, any one who can so willing rip life away, well, there are consequences for them.
Life should be seen as precious. He was broken, and not enough was done to save that man...who could have saved all those children...
But what does this society care about other peoples "issues". Nothing, right?
Mental health is a big deal. But we don't make it that. Violence. We accept it, unless it happens in real life or to us. We are a sick country. It isn't about the guns. It isn't about our rights. It is about our communities and our health. Two things that have slid dip into the ditch where no one cares to look or dig it up out of. This will continue to happen. People will die in awful ways.
People will kill themselves.
People will treat others like shit.
Because...we have lost our morals.
We have lost it all.
Because we are not as caring a community as we claim. Or today wouldn't have happened. Stress is a killer, and it doesn't care who it takes down or how many. Evil lurks in the sweetest of places.
Those of us who have to sit and morn alone, for the prices we've had to pay for evil, for the crimes silently made against us. The nation will never know. They will never, ever care. If anything I suffer more because, why, well it isn't ever simple. Wicked people are broken people. People society pushes aside, ignores them and hopes they will go away.
You as a society created this. and you know it.
There are worse things that happen every day and we can't scream loud enough for anyone to care, especially never morn, for the things we have lost and will never, ever get back.
I am a sad lonely creature who will probably die alone. But so what. No one will morn for me.
Something I am to slowly coming to terms with.
I once was so in love with love, and service and hope, and joy, and life....but they stole that and now I seem nothing more then an old bitter crone....so sad,

I Hate Life

It's that simple...the end....until some one can god damn prove me wrong...fuck life......it'll hang soon

I Am Weak

I may be weak. I do have flaws. I am sad. But I know I am not wrong. I didn't do anything wrong. It was not my fault. It was theirs. For being weak. Being sad creatures. Needing to feed of the weak. Trying to hide behind their own sorrows. Trying to blame me for their weaknesses  Just because some one is nice and caring and open, does not equal seduction. That's crap. It was wrong. I never wanted it. I never, ever asked for. No matter what I had to tell them to keep them from making me suffer more, causing more pain. I never wanted it. I was great before. I was very happy. I was satisfied  I never, ever needed their pathetic weakness that consumed me. Just because I am a girl doesn't mean shit. I shouldn't have to be afraid that just because I have a friendly smile some one will think I like them and try raping me. That's crap. That's hell. Fuck that. I have been beaten and used and threatened. I won't be ever again. I actually have some one who loves me, has never ever taken from me. He is the only one who has ever loved me. I am hurt, and broken, but he is the only one I have ever loved.

Asking The Why

How long must you be lost before some one comes calling?
When is it do they actually care?
The lies that filled the air to procure the satisfaction of your need. Infested the ears of all that must hear. The song of you silver tong threading the wicked path you chose to take, leaving me in your wake.
You never cared.
It was all a lie.
I believed it could change.
I believed all people were nice, somewhere inside. We could all find that kindness to share with the world. Not be another vulture, a leech to suck the life out of the world.
I want more. I want there to be hope. A future. Truth. Above all truth.
Fear kept me from being. Fear starved me of life. Terror ceased joy of any kind, wringing the life from it. No hope but death. My only friend. So many times I wish you had finished what you had started those evil days. Taken my broken life and shattered its frame. I wish I would have not been stopped. I wish I had not been saved. I wish I could have been set free from the prison you lock me in. Unwilling. Unprotected. A tool. A toy. I am just nothing. I never was. I wish I could be set free from the binding you put on me.
I wish.
I had never been born to be in this world. To feel the taint. To be a waste of breathing space. I know I am lame, but this is all I have. I am to afraid to be anywhere else. People....scare me. I cannot express the fear that has been imprinted upon my broken heart. You hurt me, and you never cared.
After all I sacrificed and this how I am repaid...with brutality. Is that love? To be abused after you give, and love, and encourage, and whatever else it takes to make people happy, hopeful, cared for, loved...is this all there is to look forward to....

Why I Ramble

I can't stop hurting. I may never stop. I all I can ever see is the pain you caused me. I hope you're happy. Doing your gods work, beating down the broken.........when i die i will die well, with pain and agony, may my wish be reflected upon eyes of hate....
How do you convince some one to just let you go......damn

Life Not Lived

I never wanted to live this long. I believed when I was young, I truly believed, that I would be dead by thirty. I had thought there might have been people would care if I no longer existed. As I have grown that belief in people has just about vanished. We've all had it, that experience, some worse then others, the disappointment. Sometimes its is so god damned painful you can feel it in your heart, forever, for life. I believe you will even be cursed in the afterlife with the sorrow. So many times. So often the pain. I fight to die. What is there to live for?

Exposure To Trauma

Imagine have not one but numerable encounters with trauma. Surrounded by an atmosphere one should not be in as a new born/toddler; sex, drug ,rock and roll.1,2,3,4,5 car accidents, one almost fatal. Parents in separate almost fatal car accidents. a private school your family couldn't afford, and people knew it, that treated you as if you would never amount to anything. Verbal bullying from peers as a child. 15-20 funerals in my short lifetime. Uncle steals from you as a child, does drug in front of you. Molested by a cousin, who lived with us. He died.....And on and on...I could stop there, but There is so much more to my story, so much more horrible things.
I had an ideal growing up, of who I wanted to be, virtues I gleaned from the huge bundles of reading I did, after awhile reading became a survival tool. The people I would read about, my heroes  the people I wanted to be like, were real, they had issues, they pains, but they persevered through it all, be came stronger. Were amazing people that everyone loved, well except those who hated the fact that they were loved. But they were selfless, hard working, charming, mannered, sure, helpful, loving of all, kind of people. Yea they made mistakes, but they always cared. That is what I wanted to be. And that is what I have always striven for, until very recently  For with time and the multiple efforts of evil in the world, I slowly and painfully began loosing all of my self-worth, yet continued to give, to love, with that being my only desire, to love and hopefully be loved. Alas, I never felt what true love should have felt like. Abuse, abuse, abuse. So much trauma there are days, months, sometimes years I cannot remember because my being was so hurt it couldn't stand it. I began to be 'taught' that I was worthless, only to be used and abused, little less than garbage. Yet. still I stove to share love with the world. But all it did was take, my virtues, my essence, my life. I am an empty shell now that is suspended in this time to be tormented by my thoughts and memories. I have been so depressed most of my life my internal self began to self-destruct, not only by the people that surrounded me but by the pain I caused myself  I have been completely drained of a normal life by all the trauma I have been forced to experience. I've lost and organ, I can't eat, I can't sleep, my short term memory is completely impaired, my emotions are a storm, I have no control, I am loosing, I am lost. I am terrified of living, life and all the other things in it. I have had the ability to enjoy life taken from me. Ripped from me with brutal force. With no mercy. Trauma is not something to laugh at. It is not a joke. The pain you caused is permanent. I am forever marked by your evil.

Meaning Of Songs

Having everything ripped out, torn apart, I have found that I have been given the ability to be wide open, if I allow it. I have found that pain can be such a conduit, if people submit to such a thing, to being free of what hate and evil and deception and lies have done to a soul. With this openness I have come to experience a whole new side to my comfort music. Words that have bring tears to my eyes because that emotion swells within me. The words sound as if they are coming from inside me. I can understand them so much deeper. The pain has cut me all the way through and the knowledge and experience just pour in to the very depths of every fiber of my being. I understand whole, never completely, we cannot as incomplete, imperfect creatures. Yet, when we allow it, our depth of understanding can beyond something galactic  even dimensional I dare say. When we rise up through the ashes, knowing we are burnt, broken, and in ways un-reparable, but we learn an entirely new thing about ourselves, others, and of course life. I may be burning in the sorrows from the crushing blow of evils vice, but I am cleansed by the fire of truth and love. I have found how real, how true some people can actually be.

Beware Your Heart

Beware what you set your heart upon for it shall surely be yours" -Ralph Waldo Emerson. Whether is a conscious or unconscious thought, desire. Even if it was something forced into our hearts, built there by others, we will inevitably fall to it. Whatever our heart have been set up upon. It is so sad. To be a product of such. What a horrible price one must pay for the burdens of others. Why is it the weak are blamed for the wicked ways of the broken, corrupted bitter souls of this world? I am so weak. So sad. So broken. I have no faith. In people. in anything. In myself. I never, ever have...

My Own Blood

I don't fear death. In fact I dream of it. Imagine. Always gruesome. I can just vision my blood pouring out of me. Its always only me. The sight of blood on others, movies, etc. makes me nauseous. But my own, inspires me. I can just see myself falling onto a katana, hitting my organs, and just letting the pain overcome me. Its so wonderful. The sweet, sweet pain. Something, the only thing I have ever been able to control. My blood flow. Well, for the most part. Even if it wasn't myself always giving the wounds. My blood, was still mine, no one has taken that yet. I try an keep it, or let it go, its my will, the only thing I can will. Or that is how I have lived my life. I still, have a hard time overcoming the want, the itch, the desire to see my blood. To feel the skin separate, peel away from the flesh, meat, underneath. The small veins, the larger ones, cut into them, see the blue turn a bright red as it makes contact with the air. Dripping downward, flowing, following the lines of my skin. The brightness fades as I let it dry were it has fallen. Feeling the tingle of my wounds trying to heal themselves. Traumatized. Fear. Wondering why this was caused, why my brain let it happen. Sigh. Will I ever be better? I don't believe it, I seem to fall and will crash into the arms of death with as brutal a death as I can manage. I was never meant to be apart of this world. Not a living breathing being. Just a mere object to be used. Played with. But it is still my blood.

What To Be

Today I sit and ponder the things that meddle through my head. Thoughts of life, thoughts of death. Weaving in and out of every memory. Each moment, wondering just what will all this be for. I want to sleep, I wish I could snore so gently. To know I am safe, I am warm, just drift away into dreamland. sigh. Will this ever be a truth? Just a simple wish, to sleep. No insomnia, no night mares, night-terrors, no more fears. sigh. Someday maybe, if I dare hope, I'll have friends who chase me, love me for me, are there and will always care, even in our weakness. I fear the lies, the actions faked, the life that will be taken. Why trust? Why share? I use to have this belief that love was real. That it could conquer all. That if some one did love you, no matter who, when that word was used, it was real. It was unconditional, no conditions, no limits. That they could be with you, help you, protect you, save you. No matter what, be some one there, always. No matter what. I tried. I wanted friends. I wanted family. I wanted community. I wanted love. I wanted there to be a group of people, that no matter what happened, we would get through it together. I was, I was always there. Even though I was the weakest. I always shared. I always gave, to my detriment. To my pain. To my shame. To my hate. I believed in a love that was full of grace and love. I believed in people whom I believed believed in the same thing. What a fool I was, to believe. What a Lie. I will either perish from this or conquer it and become more, so much more. Something beyond the hell you gave me. I don't want to care anymore. I don't want to be a friend. I don't want a family. I don't believe in that love. Only Sora's love, for it is true. It has passed the test, withstood time. He is weak. He is wounded. Not always there. But he is my everything, forever and always till forever. However, I can't trust people, humans, life. It is nothing but a shame, a lie. It was proven time and again. If they are known by their love, the love that was given by their sacrificial god, if that is their love, I never, ever want it. It is an ugly thing full of lies and hate. I must overcome my bitterness. My hate. For I refuse to be like them. I will be gentle. I will be kind. But I will not let you touch me, hurt me, use me, look down upon me, never abuse of any kind, ever again. No matter what. I will win this battle. I will. Any way I see fit. I will be myself. Not what your curse blames me for. I have my own demons, stop trying to peg yours off on others. ........so ya, I think to damn much, it hurts, so one way or another I am done, I have to be....I have to be....

Abuse In Solitude

These past months of solitude have shown me much about myself. For the first time in my life, since before I could remember, I have been completely removed from every and any kind of abuse. Never ever feeling safe. Not knowing what real love was. I have what been able to see what my heart and soul had been twistedly molded into. This deformed, rejected creature who was more then willing to let the monsters steal whatever they wanted from me. My flesh. My virtues. My emotions. My feelings. My heart. My dreams. My hopes. Anything that would make me, well alive, living, breathing, independent. A person of free will. Capable of caring for myself. I was a robot controlled by the first beast to take the controls. No self-esteem, no self-worth. I was a weakling trying to play strong. A part I failed at. All those I looked up to. Hoping to help me. Took more. I never got help. Just more a abuse. I trusted them. They never saw how hurt I was. They kept blaming me. I was wrong. I was hurt, broken. That was wrong? Why? Why did you let it happen?  Why didn't you save me from the pain like you said you would? Why didn't you protect me like you promised? I was alone. You blamed me for being a victim? I had no security. I wasn't safe. I thought the only way out was death. You made me believe I wasn't loved, I couldn't be. I was no good. All I was worth was less then your garbage. Is it my fault for not knowing I wasn't ever really loved? Was it my fault for thinking it was ok to be beaten, taken advantage of, with no words to speak? Was it my fault for being afraid of brutal monsters eating flesh, my soul? Am I not human, simply because each person I opened my heart to, willingly molested, beat, shredded and left my heart to die in filthy pits, because I didn't know how to stop it? Because I believed that was love?

What You Taught

My experience in working as a church leader, in wanting to help people, to love them, has made me sorry for doing so, or ever even thinking about it. Such a wretched places, churches have become. Nothing are they like the holy book they follow. No mercy. No grace. They let the brutes, bitter weeds, and hypocritical world-pleasing-whores feed off those who come to the house of god to heal. Forbidden to be wounded and no place to be loved. God's house is no longer his home. Only a place for greed and pride to reside. For the rich of the world to rule, making their pathetic little lives seem of some circumstantial blot on the world. How shameful. How disgusting. These followers of their christ role in the wealth of this world while blaming the broken for their problems and making excuses as for why they follow not the words of their beloved lord. What a disgrace. Sadly I was fooled by that hope, the healing, the love...but when my weakness of being weak, knowing no better that being abused was wrong. That I may have been worth something. No, I was not loved but punished in my weakness. Spate upon. And as the beasts ran rampid upon my broken spirit, I was shamed and blamed for not being well enough to be in the church, let alone a leader. Well my sad little puppets of you own wills and ways, I believe you should dust of the covers of those bibles, and your shallow hearts, and try read what your god had done for you, you disgusting prostitutes, whores to the world. Actually listen and not manipulate. To prideful to follow the love that is your lord. I hope you know your crimes, know what belief truly means. What love really is.