confessions full of jack 13Every once in a while I fall into the firy pit of loneliness. I start looking for a sense of belonging in the worst possible places. I reach out to the ghosts of the past in order to prolong my stay in that pit. For I already have precious hearts that envelop and cherish my existence, and if I reach out to them they'll remind me that the burning fire is merely an illusion. But I reach out to those who have never known how to calm me down. I reach out to them to prove myself right for feeling forsaken and scorned. I guess I just like to feel sorry for myself, I guess I am just a tad bit masochistic. I use these ghosts as razor blades, to cut little lines of fire into my peace of mind. I dehumanize them for my own hidden agenda, I guess I am also a tad bit sadistic.
confessions full of jack 12Confessions are against my nature. I have always been secretive, and nobody needs to see and smell my internal organs. I am only confessing to rid futile information of their power, I am only confessing to make room for real secrets.
confessions full of jack 11This is it; this is the sentence my soul breathes.Every time I see my baby niece, I kiss her on the cheek and declare "I kissed you. Yes, I did." Then I look into her eyes and say "I love you very much." Then we play, then we dance, then we run, then we laugh, then we hide, then we seek. When it's time to say goodbye I kiss her on the cheek and declare "I kissed you. Yes, I did." Then I look into her eyes and say "I love you very much."It may be the only untainted truth I have spoken all my life.
confessions full of jack 10At 25, I decided to kill myself on my 29th birthday. My decisiveness gave me strength, and the finality of the bottomless abyss I've been falling into provided me with patience. I stopped contemplating suicide everyday and worrying about the future. I started to straighten out my act, and pump the poison out of my stomach. My goal was to say goodbye to this world as a strong, kind, loving woman. If I were to be remembered I wanted to be remembered as just, yet compassionate. Whole centuries passed as I walked to my death. My eyes, my heart, my vocabulary changed. I never doubted my decision, but I had to change it when my sister got pregnant when I was 28,5. I couldn't force such sorrow on her during pregnancy, and I was secretly excited about meeting my niece.I have not set a new date to die, it seems I don't mind being alive.
confessions full of jack 9Not in the arms of a lover, nor sunbathing under the september sky; not when my baby niece comes knocking for bubbles and balls, nor when a friend smiles me the moon; I find true peace as one tongue becomes another. Only when I translate I don’t care about the whens and the wheres and the whos and the don’ts. I break down the walls, and rebuild better ones just by thought.
confessions full of jack 8As I walk around with a broken heart, as I feel the tingle of love fade from my lips through stolen hopes and erased dreams, as I watch a sly smile tattooing itself on my face, I think of his hands.I always thought it was that single dimple of his that I fell in love with. Now, I know it was his hands. That's why I kept staring at them the other day. That's why I kept mine on my lap so they wouldn't be caught in the whirlwind of his palms once again.He is the one, the one wound I pray never heals. So I carry it around and stick maybes and ifs deep in its bed when no one is looking. Healing would mean to let go and I am not ready. I have a feeling I might never be.