Wonderland is shattering..

..inside of me. And I feel how shards of glass get stuck in between every fiber of my being. And I scream. And I hear you screaming too.
See me dancing with a razor blade. See me falling from the edge of the world.
I realized that..my alter ego is not trapped inside of me. Maybe that's why I only felt complete 4 times in my life.
You can't save everyone. How the hell could I expect to save a life when I'm in the gutter myself?
Mistakes..we all make mistakes. How much of yourself are you willing to give in order to make a mistake?
'We were so independent
So high on ill intentions'
And now anger is replaced with bitterness..
'I don't believe in God
but I pray for you'
I wish I had more of myself to give to you..I truly, deeply do.
Perhaps we deserve our pain. We were dreamers trying to reach the unreachable..And we had it..We did it. For a brief moment it was in our hands.

Midnight Madness

The asylum walls were thick as paper. You could hear everyone breathing, almost hear their hearts beat. They were all trying to get out of there, some wanted that so bad that in the end the medical staff would break down the doors bringing more straitjackets. Because that's what they all thought we needed. Fucking medication and control for the fucked up lunatics.
My alter ego was lying on the floor counting the black dots on the ceiling. After some moments of silence, he said:
'You know. It's been approximately 23 months since i had saved you. Brought you here. To my sanctuary. My sea of white and peace.'
I sighed loudly and looked him straight in the eyes.
'How does this count as being saved? We are stuck between these 4 walls and day and night i hear the screams of some freakshows who really have issues. I was perfectly fine. And I still am. I'm fucking healthy.'
'Yes, you're so healthy according to them. Talking to your imaginary alter ego but everything's dandy. Go tell that to a doctor maybe you want some more meds.'
'I just want out of this place. I want to be able to walk in a park and smell and touch and feel the nature surrounding me.'
'Listen,you stupid girl', he said while pointing his index finger at my nose.'I worked my heart out to bring you here and protect you forever and you want out? You don't understand. THAT place is where the insane are. Not here. We all gather here because we SEE..we UNDERSTAND..we have to get out of that unhealthy environment. So we come here. And we clean our spirits, fight our demons, find our inner self. HERE. If you go back there, the idiots will jump right back at your throat cutting everything you tried for years to build. I know what's best for you. Shut the fuck up and listen to me.'
Tears were building up in my eyes.
'Oh, really? You're losing your touch, deary.'he quietly said.
'Just..take care of me.'
My alter ego wrapped his hands around me and kissed my forehead.
'Silly bruised girl. I promise I'll take over your soul as gently as I can.'



...I woke up in a hospital bed. They told me i had died for 23 seconds, but they managed to bring me back.

Self-Destruction 101

Void. Numb.
Cut. Cut. Cut. Slice.
Don't forget to breathe.
Sometimes, death is just the escape exit, and we are not cowards, are we?
Me, I'm not...
Choke. Bleed. Scratch.
Maybe the order is a bit messed up, but I'm free to do anything I want.
What a joke.
'But not one choice we make we choose.'
Hate Me. Hate Me.
Don't ever dare to hate me.
Silence is the killer hiding in its own shadow.
So I'll speak.
I.I forgot how it feels like.
Sometimes in life we choose what we want, not what is healthy for us.
The unhealthy drained me.
And I'd do it again. If I could.
Everything I had. You own it now.
Open.Burn. Cut. Slice.
Forget me not.
'Wonderland had gone to hell'
Self-Destruction 101.



H.Q.

Rant..

Missing you is not an option. But you already know that by now.
Hello, Lexi and her math meds here but, who cares?
I'm just writing down my thoughts. Tk+1, haha that's funny. I miss you, dear..beloved. I should write down something math worthy. So not in the mood. So lazy..2t/1+t^2 -> there you go, I wrote something..hah!
Drank a coffee so my whole body is vibrating. Remember how my body was moving after that glass of Mansinthe with 2 and a half big sugar spoons? You knew how I'd react after it, but still you made the drink according to my tastes. Or after that first orgasm? I was shaking to my core.
I love you. My dear pistol whipped lover.
Hold my colors close to your heart. I want to..breathe you and I want you to..inhale me.
I just want to..i don't know..
I just want to break out of this cage and you, my dear, will help me.
EVErsleeping.

2+5+2

Open me

Volatile Whispers

'Your joy is my low' she used to say to me. 'We are nothing more than volatile whispers, you and me. You will die and i'll be left alone, bored, for my arch enemy will no longer live. I need you in this state. Whatever state. The state of breathing and heart-beating. Even though i hate you, I breathe your mood. I create you. And then i don't need you anymore.'
She made no sense for most people, but I knew she loved me. Don't question it, don't try to understand it. Don't even try to think it. It's nothing to be thought of, or questioned as much as there is nothing to be understood. It was that volatile whisper between me and her, that moment that was lingering in the air waiting for one of us to open the mouth and accidentally swallow it. And then the moment will have died, and we will have returned to being just two normal human beings. Thing is, neither of us ever killed it. That perfect silence could stay in between us even for days, it was all in the way she looked at me. And i knew when it's safe to open my mouth without tainting it.
And when the whisper would disappear, she would always look at me and smirk. I had played my part well and she was content. When the silence was over, it was time for the noise to burst out of us. We would scream, but not at eachother..we would scream together, as one entity, like kids do. On the count of three:
1..
2..
3.

Tobias ( M. - part II)

I was so young the first time I heard the blood’s voice calling my name. Like a dark, beautiful, crimson mistress.

In the beginning, it was so very confusing: sure, I never was the quiet teenager, but this thing turned my existence upside down for good. The memories of the horrors I’ve done are not haunting me. Not at all. What’s more, I feel like the ghosts of my past, all the boys and girls, are keeping me company in lonesome rainy nights.

You see, I was never a fan of the big crowds, or human company, in general. The only times I accepted their presence is around big events like concerts or parties, every once in a while. Why only then? Quite easy. Their energy is radiating from every cell. Feeding me. Yet they have no idea. It’s pure elation.

But I’ll bore you with meaningless details of my ways later. Now I wish to reveal to you, my darlings, a quite..important turning point in this drab existence of mine: my first kill.

Like I said before, my beginnings in the art of massacre were quite early. Such a young naivety and curiosity was strangling my core and itching my skin. The nights were long and beautiful, and the only presences I occasionally accepted were the one of my closest friend and the one of my cat. But we’ll get into that a tad later. That night was filled just with myself.

Walking in the historical centre of my hometown back then, I went in my favorite pub, taking the seat I usually take, somewhere less visible. It allows me to watch them without the burden of being noticed. The red velvet on the walls was giving the chamber that romantic, burlesque touch and the diffuse light was not hurting my eyes.  While ordering a glass of cognac, I noticed him. Sitting at the bar, alone, with thoughts flying around like halos and long blood-colored hair flowing on his shoulders,  sipping absinthe. His skinny figure was enhanced by the long coat and, through his body movements, he imprinted a royal touch in many gestures. I felt drawn towards the unknown.

Taking my drink, I got next to him, at the bar, in a desire to comprehend how this stranger ticks. Soon enough, my clumsy starring was noticed as he whispered quietly through barely open lips:

‘That’s not polite, you know.’

I blushed. Turned my face to see his and couldn’t find a reply. Those black eyes were piercing through me, and my train of thoughts was derailed by the smoke coming out of his mouth.

‘Do you have any more of those? ‘ I asked.

While he took another cigarette out from the package , I got a breather.  Soon enough , we were both exhaling smoke.

‘Sorry for..earlier. I just don’t know many people into absinthe.’

He smirked and then looked away, almost gazing at the walls. I soon got a reply:

‘It’s the drink of gods. I’m happy to be one of the few. I wouldn’t like to be compared 

to..them.’ he said, turning his head towards the rest of the people sitting around.

I was intrigued, so we got to talk about all sorts of things: from philosophy to sex, from music to poetry, many of my thoughts were hidden in his. I found out more things about his unknown: His name was Tobias and he was an artist: poet, actor..and everything in between, great, silent, distant mind.

Hours passed us by, empty absinthe and cognac glasses got piled up on the bar, people were 

coming and going, the night was darker and darker. We weren’t close to the end of our conversation.  Tobias seemed like a part of me I had neglected all along: a loner, scared and scarred by society, sad, a sadist..and a masochist. Soon enough, I was surprised by the thought of: I want his brain..his mind..his beating heart. This beautiful stranger was taking over me.

The clock struck midnight.

‘My favourite moment..’ I said, silently.

He laughed..in a manic, evil way.

‘The night is young and it has just begun. Come over at my place..If you dare. I call it Wonderland.’

‘I feel brave tonight.’

‘As you wish.’ He grinned, unraveling his white little fangs.