(no subject)

[felicula]

OK, well I couldn't resist this one. This is from a writing seed posted by dawnstar.

They are always there in the depths of my being. All those leering perfect faces. They think they are perfect. They know it all, know what things ought to be like, and every one of them think I am not what a person ought to be like.

I was so open at first, trusting. I thought I was good enough as I was. I knew I could make friends. I had from early on. But this, this was a new place. Shy at first, I figured it would be like any other time: that I would stay inside my head for a little while, then the fear would subside and I would come out to play. I am not quite myself until I come out for good.

They all knew each other already. I was a foreign element to them, one who was not used to playing their petty consumerist games. At first it was just a couple of them. They would get me to open up just enough so they could dump the contents of my soul on the ground, paw through them, and laugh.

What is wrong with me? No, really, what is wrong with me that what I am is not good enough? I thought I was OK as I was.

Then it was no longer just a few. I cannot remember how many had come to surround me: seven, ten, twenty. It was not only once either, my back up against the brick wall. Cornered. Could not escape the eyes. How many pairs of eyes hovered? How many bodies pressed in close? How many jeering, taunting, derisive queries had they hurled at me, each a javelin piercing what was left of my confidence?

Before my time there was over they no longer trapped me. My wounds still festered. Every comment, each whispered snicker, snatches of conversation that halted at my approach would send the epinephrine coursing through my veins, ready to flee further inward. I left that place a wary being. I could not forgive what they could not understand.

Sometimes I think that time and maturity have tempered my terror. I like to believe that my confidence does not limp. But every now and then the ghosts return. Then I am up against the bricks again, trapped by apparitions summoned only from memories.

That was somewhat therapeutic. I'm sorry I haven't been online much. A schizoid computer and an asston of homework are conspiring to shoo me away from this machine and swallow my time. The plus side is that I seem to be doing well in school. I can't guarantee that I'll check lj or email again anytime soon, but I'm still alive and kicking.

Comments

[dawnstar.livejournal.com]

I hope I can do my part to keep the ghosts at bay. I have them too, and this piece definitely speaks to me.

*hugs and loves you*

[blackfelicula.livejournal.com]

***hugs and loves back*** Perhaps in writing this it can help me remember that they are only ghosts. ***hugs more***

[hbbtrbbtbcnbt.livejournal.com]

Those damn voices that speak up loud and clear when we least need them. Even when it's no longer them who hold you in, it's now your own mind and memory...it's harder to get away from that. *hugs, snuggles, and soothes* You are an amazing person, caring, warm, uninhibited, creative, deep...I am glad that I've been able to get to know you.

Take that, ghosts from the past!! HAH!! *huuuuuuugggggs*

[blackfelicula.livejournal.com]

Maybe I can summon enough positive images of me to counter-surround them! :) ***enthusiastic, caring hugs***