Return Of The Satirical Narrator!!!
"Break The Silence" by The Dig
If you could spit it out
If you could only shout.
When you open your mouth
Pull the trigger with your tongue.
But your heart goes numb
No, you can't make a sound.
You can never break the silence in your heart, in your heart.
You can never break the silence
It's in your bones, in your bones.
Even if it breaks your heart
You set your soul apart.
You turn yourself around.
You're just a quiet kid.
It's all you can do not to blow your lid
Without making a sound.
September 17, 2014 Wednesday 4:08 PM
TODAY'S IMAGINARY CONVERSATION:
Me: "I walk home through the cemetery because I'm an emo girl who listens to super heavy music and sometimes I hurt people just to feel something." Which I do because I race myself home to fight off boredom and the cemetery shaves a couple minutes off my time.
Him (gross. not him, me. or the fact that girls adoringly say "him" in verbal italics. ew.): "Wait, really?" Not a super realistic answer, he'd probably say something else, but hey, it's my fucking imaginary conversation, okay???
Me: "No, I listen to folk music." I also hope I'm not emo and I hope I don't hurt people just to escape being numb, but hey, that information can wait.
And then I kinda thought about it and I'm a wee bit manipulative because don't I only hurt people on purpose if I'm in an argument? But is it really hurting people? it's not like I cold-heartedly use their faults against them.
But hey, I don't feel guilty. I feel far from guilty. I feel far from anything. Is this even "feeling"?
So not writing for a day and a half did the trick. My barriers were down after talking to Pat. They stayed down until today.
Do you know how terrible that felt? I felt like I was drowning. The levees had broken and I just died. Yesterday, after coming home from a super long day at school, I stayed in bed. Like the rest of the day. I didn't even do my homework.
You know it's bad when I can't even convince myself to do my homework.
Apparently, my satirical narrator self has once again kicked in. I can't help laughing at all my pain. I've made a lot of jokes today and I've laughed.
Everything I feel is there, but it isn't my first priority. It kinda just weighs me down, makes doing things harder, and is constantly on my mind.
YUp!! And relaxing, by the way, is very painful. I'VE BEEN TRYING. I'VE BEEN TRYING SO HARD BUT IT SUDDENLY SEEMS LIKE I'VE NEVER RELAXED BEFORE. AND I FEEL EMPTY IF MY HEAD IS EMPTY, SO ON ONE HAND, I DON'T KNOW IF I EVEN WANT TO RELAX.
On the other, these thoughts need to leave. Not every day will be like today. Not every day will be good.
I was going a little crazy today, hahaha. but the thing is, WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU PUT HIM SOMEWHAT IN FRONT OF ME.
HE'S LIKE RIGHT FUCKING THERE. RIGHT IN MY LINE OF VIEW. THE TEACHER WAS SHOWING A POWERPOINT BUT ALL I COULD DO WAS THINK ABOUT THE MOST INAPPROPRIATE SHIT.
REALLY, WHO PUTS A NICE LOOKING GUY RIGHT IN FRONT OF A HORMONAL GIRL'S EYES???
And NO I wasn't thinking sexy type thoughts, okay??? I was just thinking inappropriate things. Like a sudden spike in information in my head. I had to split my brain so I could focus and run around in my head calming my thoughts.
A FEW EXAMPLES OF RANDOM SHIT IN MY HEAD:
-my mostly naked body. Like last night I put on a black bra and black panties with lace on the edges and I was like, "nice," and so that image was in my head.
-walking home with him
-conversations that have happens
-me calling myself a stupid fucking idiot
-me, telling myself to shut the fuck up so I can focus
-me, thinking, "God DAMN, his hands are nice."
-me, thinking to myself, "You are so fucking creepy"
-"his skin is really damn nice, too"
-annnd me, "HE CAN READ YOUR FUCKING MIND YOU IDIOT, STOP THINKING HORRIBLY STALKER-ISH THINGS"
-"he can't read my fucking mind, you're just really paranoid."
I PROBABLY LOOKED LIKE A FUCKING CRAZY PERSON BECAUSE OF ALL THE FACES I WAS MAKING. GODDAMN, I AM AN IDIOT.
Let's move on to why i relate to this song so much. I think it can be interpreted as a person who can't say how they really feel.
Maybe someone who's anxious and doesn't trust other people to accept her crazy overthinking.
okAy, that's me, though.
It reminds me of all the things I've tried to say but I choke on my own words. And, "but your heart goes numb,"
In the chance I have to tell people how I really feel, I stop feeling that thing. I am numb until I am once again to anxious to say a word.
Left alone by my own fault.
And it seems like I will forever be hiding myself. Auto-fucking-matically, because believe me, I want to share. I want to SO BAD, but I just can't.
I can't "pull the trigger" with my tongue.
It doesn't matter if I'm going crazy or my heart is breaking, I stay silent.
Are the sad things I think really the bad thought prisoners? Or am I the prisoner?
Haha. That was cheesy.
(Satirical narrator has saved me from entering a bottomless pit of despair!!! Satirical narrator is a thin net over that pit. A slippery fucking net. I can't climb up the goddamn sides!!! I just want to get out and into the light.
Satirical narrator says that she can't help me with that. She is apparently just an adaptive state keeping me from killing myself. Thanks, satirical narrator.
"Well, hey!" she chuckles, "If you can't laugh at your own mistakes, what can you do?"
Ahahahah, shut up, satirical narrator.
WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING IN MY OVERLY SOCIAL MIND TODAY)