Hating My Nightmares

I take medications to quiet them and still, they find ways o haunt me. To get into my head. My scramble the reception of a clean mind. Mumble, mumble. haha. I hate those nightmares. Especially the ones with those demons. The ones that chase me. The ones that did the most in human things possible. Making me feel the worthlessness I am. It seems to seep into every pore, and nothing I can do makes it go away, I can't even wash enough. eventually it fades to a mild ping, a small thought, a distant memory. What a curse. What a fear. Ha, who knew caring for people could be such a crime. Loving the broken really does get you crucified. I am no saviour. I am a sad, worthless creature who cannot find any purpose more then that of pain. Maybe I need stronger medication...

Our New Adventures

So after much deliberation, I think I'm I'm going to start writing about the places I/We want to travel to and why. I just feel like sharing my dreams of travel, which now more then ever, seem like something we can do. Of course there are many close to our motherland, however their are so many places we would love to visit in their  own cultural context. To see the way they see things, and see Americans. I hate relying solely on media and social networks to give me the information from their point of view. I really would just like to experience it myself. So let the adventures begin!

Being All Alone

I have spent a good weekend with my beloved. He has taken my hand and moved me through this weakness of mine to try and live life. Something I dare say, I suck at. Ha, yea well when you never really learn how and yet continue to plague the planet with your essence someone needs to teach ya. You also have to be willing to learn, which when you hate life...um yeah. Sigh, But I try for him. Because he loves me. I want to make sure he has a life set up for him so that I won't have to infect his life much longer. I know I do, he doesn't just it because  of course he loves me. I have no doubts. I'm just not good for any one. And in this thought I feel very, well alone. In my thoughts, dreams, ideas, life. It's because I feel so different, so off. Like I don't belong anywhere. That I was a mistake. And the world keeps trying to make up for it. If I'm not around how can I be vex anything beautiful again? I can't. Maybe my soul will cycle through and become something better. Or become the grimy slime I am. Yes well, I suppose my words make you feel better. She has a life of hell, of course everyone's is better. Who would care to be me. Hell someday will consume me for existing. I mean What kind of twisted person should be kept alive. I like the pain, the suffering. The bruises and brokenness. Not much ambition here is there?