Ecstatic Failure

Think it over

Twice | 18 July, 2009 07:58



Twice you promised me you would love me till I was "old, fat and half-blind"


Twice you went back on that promise without me doing anything.


Why are you doing this to me? Do you enjoy hurting me over and over and over again? If you do, please tell me. If you don't, stop hurting me and work on this friendship that *WE* wanted!


I didn't smoke enough to cough up blood *because* of you, I smoked enough to cough up blood because you DID NOT talk to me when I repeatedly called to talk.


Anyway, this is for you, not like you are ever going to bother watching it any way:



You keep making mistakes, you keep slipping up, and I keep paying for your mistakes and your slip-ups???? 

What the fuck. You spoke to me as a friend, I agree the conversation got out of hand, but you are doing exactly the thing that makes us have conversations like that one. You're hurting me again, as always! Is that all you've made yourself capable of? Giving cheaters what they want and hurting the people that care about you, like me and your family?


I KNEW that account was a fake. I knew you weren't starting over. At least I added you to my REAL account. You never wanted to clean the slate, you never wanted to start over. If you did, you would add me to your REAL accounts. That's what made me mad, you not adding me to the proper account.


I told you, shutting me out will be hurting me even more. That's exactly what you've done. Hurt me even more. Thank you so much, do you derive a sick sense of pride or pleasure by hurting me? I think you truly do.


I told you the two options you leave me with. Asylum vs Suicide. I don't know which I'm picking but be assured that neither P nor N will be mailing you this time. You will be responsible solely for whatever happens in my future. Just you and only you. 


God, stop being such a horrible human being to me! Talk to me please.  

Okay. | 15 July, 2009 13:34

Let's start over.


I love you. 

Peace - II | 13 July, 2009 15:53

He sits looking at her. She's so beautiful. He reminisces how she came bursting through the door, as the bullet went through him. She grabbed him, she put him in the hospital, she took care of him, nursed him. He loves her, god he does, he loves her to the ends of the Earth and back. He wants to have her forever, he had her, he lost her. He thought he lost her because of his mistakes...but they weren't his...

The pain starts. It always starts like this. The bullet wound starts searing, burning, it's going red. Sometimes, he can stop it, sometimes, it just explodes. It's taking over, it's starting to explode...his vision is going, his temples are throbbing, he remembers...those nights when he cried for her, those nights he sat listening to their songs, those days when he called her and she abused him, the day he opened his email and cried for three hours...the day he cried...that was also his birthday...he cried for her.

The rage takes over. He doesn't know what he's doing, he's hearing sounds, he's saying things, he hears himself shout, he sees her crying but the rage, it's there. The wounds are searing so bad, he doesn't know what he's doing. He's lashing out at her, he's lashing out at himself and all he wants to know, all he cares about is why...why does he have those wounds, what did he do to deserve them? Why do they burn so sharply? Why did he get her when he gave her nothing and he got nothing when he gave her everything...why god damn it..why why why. That word consumes his mind, his body, his very essence of being. Why!?

He finally calms down. He sees the marks on her body, he sees the eyes wide in fright, but still filled with love, he sees the marks on his body...and that's when the tears start. She's curled up in a corner, afraid....of him. How does he explain to her that he's hurting because of her, that she's suffering for making him suffer so much! Why did she make him suffer, even she doesn't know. All he's known since he's known her, is deep, deep, complete devotion to her, and he has almost invariably suffered for it.

He approaches her, she winces. He tries again, he says those three words to her, he means them, she thinks he doesn't. He wants to be there for her, she thinks all he wants is to hurt her. He tells her he needs her. She tells him she can't be with him. She leaves.

The wounds sear again. He has no one left to lash out to...only himself. He lashes out one last time. This time, the peace is real and complete. It's pure, untouched. He won't feel anything again, no more pain, no more suffering, no more false guilt, no more love. There will only be...nothing.

Peace | 13 July, 2009 15:41

The call has been made, she’s on her way.

I slowly put down the receiver of this old red telephone in my non-descript motel room. I knock the glass of water on the nightstand as I do so. It spills; it rolls and falls off the table.

I can identify with that glass. Spilling its insides wherever they may go, wondering who they will touch? Wondering if anyone will feel the contents of its soul on their skin, on their breath and appreciate them? Rolling aimlessly, mindlessly, rolling on only to fall off into the infinite abyss. I feel like I’m falling into the abyss too.

It falls onto that spoon I put on the floor. It seemed like a good idea to put it there. It hits the ball of the spoon, flinging it across the room.

I can identify with that spoon. Being flung across the floor, flung with such disgrace, discarded, degraded and humiliated. What for? I guess I’ll never know. Maybe I was just made to be used, humiliated and flung. Or maybe I was just a cog in a much bigger scheme, like that spoon.

The spoon hits the last ball on that little Newton’s cradle I put on the floor too. That seemed like a good idea as well. That cradle was a gift from her. The energy from the spoon moves through those little blobs, and the last one swings in the air.

I can identify with that cradle too, keeping all the energy inside, holding everything in, all the anger, all the rage, and finally letting it go. I am that last blob, swinging in the air, finally free, finally screaming out in agony, finally flying out.

That last blob hits the little block of wood on the floor. The block of wood....

It has our names carved into it with a heart around them. As cheesy at it was, it was one of the best afternoons we ever spent together. We carved that into a tree as thousands before us had done and thousands after us will probably do. I went to the park the day I found out about him and chiselled that little block out. I was going to burn it, but I didn’t. I guess this is a more fitting place for it anyway.

I can identify with that block of wood too, falling over as its hit. Absorbing all the energy from the cradle and holding it in till it can’t hold on anymore and falls backwards. I fell too...several times. I picked myself up each time, but I never managed to pick myself back up after the day I chiselled that particular block out of the tree.

The string that was held taught under the block of wood goes loose. It moves over the pulley on the ceiling and lets go of the weight it held tight, the weight hits and releases the safety on the gun that’s pointing towards me.

The door opens, the string from the knob to the trigger tightens a little, the door is forced open, the string tightens more and the trigger is pulled. She bursts through the door as the gun fires a single round into my chest.

“You’re late” I say.

“I know” she says as a silvery mist forms in her eyes.

"Tears....for me?..."

Everything slowly fades to black. I am at peace with the world now.

Cursed. | 10 July, 2009 17:42

There is nothing worse than false guilt. First, the guilt eats at you, when you learn that it was something you never should've suffered, you brain can't understand why you went through all that anguish and suffering in the first place and only suffers more. False guilt, is the worst kind of guit...and you gave me a full year of it.


8 months you let me live in the guilt that *I* ruined the best relationship of my life, while you were having one of the best times of your pathetic, slovenly life.


4 months you let me live in the false guilt that you were thrown out of your house because of me, you even got your friends involved in that lie. How low did you sink?


Especially after a year of fighting about exactly that, about how if you had told me the truth initially, I would've walked away and you would be at peace. In spite of that, all you knew how to do, was lie to me and break my trust even more. What does that mean? It means you are incapable of learning from your mistakes and will only hurt more people as you go through your life. 


You say you did all that to protect your family? Well, guess what, no family wants an offspring as morally and ethically skewed as you are. No family wants an offspring like you. An offspring that is okay with ruining someone else's life after putting them through so much guilt that they didn't deserve. You can't look into your family's eyes? You don't deserve to be even near them.


You know what I can do to you, but I won't because I refuse to sink as low and become as horribly pathetic as you.


You are a curse on your family, me and my family. Please, please, please do us all a favour and go die and lift this curse from all of us.


Oh, wait, how stupid of me! This entire argument of you lifting the curse from all of us is based on the fact that you would be doing something for someone ELSE for a change! We all know, however, that you are incapable of doing something for someone else. You are the most selfish human being (curse, actually) alive. You think staying alive would make your parents happy? No, it won't. You are the black sheep of the family and they'd be better off without you. You are only going to bring more harm, if not to them, then to other people who truly cared about me. 

Cry | 08 July, 2009 03:11

They cried and cried and cried and cried.


All because of me


All because of you


Your unwillingness to talk to me, your breaking of my trust of where you were, your unwillingness to give me the one single thing I asked for.


You destroyed my relationship with my family because you made your own a priority above me. I made you my biggest priority and am paying the price for it. 


Thank you for "protecting me", but it made no difference, like anything I ever did made no difference to you.


What Blame? | 07 July, 2009 21:21

Blame for what? 

 and after that, how much did you trust me? you only stabbed me in the back and got ur friends to help out in the process

i saw V's display picture on Facebook, you were so carefree, so happy, while i was wondering where u were, what u were doing, were u okay? were u safe?


so much for protecting me. 

Trust | 07 July, 2009 21:20

we cant trust till we talk.

we cant talk till we trust. 

viscious circle.
p.s. chinky, nothings online. it was a scare tactic and nothing more. and you knew in your heart that i would never do something like that 

Please. | 07 July, 2009 21:08

If we talk we can come up with something that will make them both quiet for the time being. We'll be a bit safer if we talk, we'll be worse if we don't. Please, unblock me. You want to, you know you do.


Somewhere deep inside your heart, my name still exists and you know it. For the sake of that little piece, please talk to me.


I love you. 

At Wit's End | 07 July, 2009 20:52

Please talk to me tonight

For it's your last chance

I'm at my wit's end

Tomorrow, I will be no more. 


Chinky, Jaan, Love, Wifey, please talk to me 

beg | 07 July, 2009 20:51

I know you love making me beg, you used to love making me beg for those little things, for any little thing I wanted from you, you used to make me ask you and I'd see your naughty smile and look into your eyes and then you'd do it. Please think I'm looking into your eyes and begging right now, because I truly am.

Chinky - The Truth | 07 July, 2009 20:34


 I hope you are reading this.

 I know you think you don't know me...truth is, I don't know myself anymore


I was the happiest when I was with you, even if I didn't show it. Since you've left, I've only gone downwards in this spiral of deceit and lies that has encased me since the very first time you left.


I am a different person with you and a different person without you.


Which one do you want me to be? You choose. 

Monster. | 15 August, 2008 19:32

You treated me like I was some kind of monster.


 And that's exactly what I became.


I don't want to be a monster anymore. I don't want to hurt the people I love :'(


Help me.

9 Months. | 19 February, 2008 14:41

Over 9 months now, I have loved you, hated you and hated myself for loving you. 9 months I've been torn apart between remembering you and forgetting you. Been torn apart. And all I asked of you, was to love me back, to trust me and be honest to me...and that's what you didn't do. When I told you, the only thing I can't stand is your lies. Then why I ask you? And you have no reply. In fact, you're not even reading this. I'm alone at 4 AM, still thinking of you. After the lies, the insults and the mistrust...still thinking of you.

And I'm still willing to give you everything I have. Still willing to forget everything and say to you I love you as long as I get to hear it back. Still willing to cleanse everything away for you.

I still love you. I don't know what that makes me and don't think I care.

Keep Walking | 31 December, 2007 05:12

You give and give and give and give and what does life give you in return?


You hold on, you move on, you think of letting go, you try, you return, you get fucked over. What do you do?

You walk and you just keep walking.

Keep walking....

Life gets better?


What do you do?

Keep walking, keep walking

You just keep walking....
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