Just Another Ghost

It’s hard to balance the urges of wanting to be alone and not wanting to be alone. My eyes have been open since grade eight, that’s when I started living. I don’t remember anything prior, I’ve suppressed every memory. I wish I never became so aware, because now I can’t suppress these memories, as badly as I want too. I was always alone inside my own head, but through the years few people figured out how to get inside. My thoughts were rarely acknowledged, and so I learned to keep them in. First it started with my parents; I guess it was always with my parents. I could never ever talk to them. When I hear my dad’s footsteps I get so full of anxiety I feel like I’m going to throw up through my eyes. I want to make myself as small as possible and give the easiest answers that will make him go away the fastest. It’s always been like this, but never so severe. No one ever listened. On the school yard, in the class room, at home. Nobody listened. This is where I began to draw in upon myself, with the realization that my words would drift past everyone’s ears, as if I was silent. I could scream my thoughts in their face, and nothing. As if my words were barely even the wind blowing past them. “Fine,” I thought to myself, “if you won’t listen, I won’t speak.” And now, years later, with the imperfections in myself growing, I am more anti-social then I’d ever imagine myself becoming. Always tried to please them, to be what they wanted, and still, nothing. So I became the outcast I was destined to be.

I used to have friends. And I’m not talking the peer’s and their pressures. I’m talking real friends. Where I could be myself, as if I was alone, but with one significant difference…someone was there to listen. I had a voice, and I heard a voice. Something I took for granted.  I knew how to have real connections, real relationships. Now I’m dumbfounded by it all.

I knew how to be social then, I knew how to fake a smile for the people at school and have fake conversations, which would get me through the day. I knew they were fake, talking from behind a brick wall, you can feel it. But that’s just the way it is at school. I knew how to be social then, I knew how to be myself and open up to those willing to accept me. I knew how to listen, and help others. I don’t know how to fake it anymore. I don’t remember how to fake a smile, how to have pointless conversations just for the social satisfaction we as humans need. As fake as it is, we need those conversations from behind walls. You may think it’s pointless, but that’s because you have it. I crave that fake nothingness that you all receive on a daily basis. I don’t know how to speak to people anymore, even with this wall held up. It’s not that people don’t try and give it to me, it’s that I don’t know how to receive it or return it. Remember how no body listened? Well now that I’ve kept these thoughts in for so long, I’ve forgotten how to let them out.

So what is it exactly that has made me become this self absorbed, depressed piece of fuck that I am? It’s not them. As much as I want to blame them, and tell them that I ended like this because they threw me aside, because I was not worthy of them…They aren’t to blame. They think so highly of themselves, and I had the power in myself to conform or to rebel. “Fuck that,” I thought to myself. “I won’t be another worthless soul, picking and choosing who should feel loved and accepted, and who doesn‘t make the cut.” I decided pretty early on I wouldn’t be like them. Which makes it my own fault that I’m on the outside looking in. Hell, even when I was on the inside looking out, it wasn’t so pretty. The grass is the same shade of shit brown on both sides of the fence.

Even without them, I had others. I had few people close to me who, with one smile, could make me feel how a million fake smiles never could. So how did it come to this? To being completely isolated, without those few special people?

Always trying to find comfort, naturally, I started experimenting with drugs. It was like falling down a ladder, trying to find footing on the next step. Some drugs made my life better; they opened my eyes, but no matter how I felt, it was quickly on to the next step. Some drugs fucked with my mind more than others. But one drug in particular, is what drove my mind to collapse in on itself.

It was never this bad before… before the devil and I found one another. Oh you fake devil, how you will soon consume my every thought. You fake devil, synthesized by men who want nothing more than money. Well you did a good job of taking it from me, but I don’t care about the cash. You took my soul, you deprived me of myself.

You gave me confidence where I had none. You made words flow from my mouth, allowing me to please others ears. I was the man, I was the king, with you holding me up…But you let me fall so fucking hard. I had it all. I had them in the palm of my hand. But before I knew it that all changed faster than I could blink. And when you left.. You took me with you. Now who is this? Sitting here, typing this shit, because it’s not me. I left long ago. I lost the ability to converse, I lost the skill it took to talk from behind these walls. I lost myself in the midst of this burnt tin foil. And now, I’m just another body, waiting for this sideshow circus to end.

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~ by Jake Wilcocks on July 10, 2011.

2 Responses to “Just Another Ghost”

  1. This left me speechless.

  2. wow…that was intense!

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