De memoires van Cassandra en Cassanova, final chapter.
09-12-2009
Wish you were here
Wish you were here, me oh my, country man I wish you were here, wish you were here, don't you know, the storm is getting colder, and I miss you like Hell, and I'm feeling blue...
Fuck it, it really never ends. I fucked up, once again.... I
was relatively ok, till I found out that another 300 fine is coming
my way. I already am broke. And now I'm even worse. I make 2000 a
month and still I can't cope. Because I fuck up. Time after time. And I'm lonely. She called, to give her e-mail adress. So I could send her a message. She doesn't know what she's starting. I can't worry them too. They're friends with you. They're friends with her. You go out together, do fun things, whatever. Life I'm not a part of anymore. I can't see them, I can't even go and take a look at the baby. The baby she touched, held, you cherished, visited...
I'm alone. As always. I'm alone. No
one to save me, no one to comfort me when I can't cope, no one to tell
me everything will be fine and then helps me get through things. Responsible for everything. Taking care of everything. And fucking up. All the time.
I should send a message, I shouldn't send.... I can't figure it out. Where do I start? How do you tell people that your main purpose in life is to die? That you're trying to get away from it all? And how does that rhyme with not affecting their lives... I can't figure it out. I really wish I had someone to give me advise. To tell me what to do. To take my hand, and drag me through this shit that's called life. Where is my saviour? Why did you leave me? Why did you leave me weak, powerless, useless? You took all my strength with you. I hope you're happy though. Happy with all I've given you. Please please be happy, then all of this suffering I go through will at least have had his goal.
A burden I am and I hate it. No one has to know what's up with me. I can act as if... As if all's perished. No more talking. No one to talk to anymore. Not even sure whether I'll ever see anyone again. I'm alone. All alone. Can't show myself, can't show my troubles, can't communicate. I'm a burden to life, a burden to everyone. I stop. I decided to stop talking. No one 'll know how I'm doing. Not being sure whether I'll ever see my sister again, Or the little one, or my parents ftm, Or the horses, Or the only one I love. Alone. All alone. Not talking never was so complicated. I need to do this, I know. If no one knows, if everyone thinks I'm fine... They don't worry. Dead inside, People're not supposed to be alone. We belong in the herd. I've lost the herd, I'm left for the predators to take me away. One day I will. Alone, not loved by anyone, I abandoned them all. And they think I chose to abandon them. I don't belong here, I'm nothing. I mean nothing. Perish, DIE BITCH, DIE
If only I don't bend and break I'll meet you on the other side I'll meet you in the light If only I don't suffocate I'll meet you in the morning when you wake
And I did, I woke up, and you weren't there. I dreamt the most magnificent dream tonight. You allowed me to come back. You wanted me to come back. You loved me and me alone, I hugged the horses, I was home again. And then I woke up, to an empty existence, everything shattering at once, pain returning to my heart, a heart that felt no joy for months, suddenly ripped from joy again. The agony is indescribable. The pain breathtaking, with bewildered eyes I glanced at my face. I'm extremely pale. Hollow. Black shadows underneath my eyes. I look like a corpse. A walking corpse. I look bad, worse than ever, and probably will look even worse tomorrow. Now I'm afraid to sleep, and dream that amazing dream again, and then, wake up.
Please let me die before I wake, I plea to God my soul to take
No one even takes me serious anymore. Threathening
with death only works when you actually die angel, they don't believe
you've got it in you, they don't think you will go through with it. I'll show them :). And that is plain cruel dutchess. Plain cruel I tell ya....
It's
cruel of them too. Wanting me to live with no future ahead. And
expecting me to find a "new life" when I still want my old life back. When I know I'll never get that again, I can buy a house, horses, but I'll never be home again. Am
I really the only one who felt that? Am I the only one alive that
feels so deep? That has such great emotions that they simply cannot be
ignored? I can't move on. It's impossible to move on. One phonecall, one reassurance and I can go on again. But the line stays dead, the world has forgotten about me...
Suicide is my way of telling God, you can't fire me, I quit
The nights are getting colder, and I miss you like hell, and I'm feeling blue... I
hate having cold, and I always am. Everything falls apart lately, cell
phone, oven, dishwasher, laptop.... All electrical applainces give up
on me. I don't understand. That's new to me. Maybe it's the negative
energy that surrounds me? I wonder.... I sit and stare and slave
around the house, "what do you want to do? Do you want me to stop
working? Do you.... " All questions on which no answer is wanted. You
never listen, you just continue reading, typing, working, laughing....
And you've got the nerve to tell me to give you some space? That I
can't be bothered with the fact that you're reading while I'm talking?
That you're fucking screen is more important than I am? O no, I'm
sorry, that's because I'm wrong. I never want to do anything either
way. I'm boring so you have to keep yourself busy.... Vicious circle
isn't it? And then, there we were, off to the handy shop, did I see
you? Was it you on the horse trailer? Who went riding with you? Him
or her? Have you forgotten me? I need you so much, I can't stand it no
one needs me. I so want to belong somewhere. To be wanted, important,
whatever. I had it all figured out yesterday. I know what went wrong, I
know how I became this beast, and I know it'll never change. All I can
do is wait. Wait and live a life of agony and pain. Because I'm not
allowed to die. I stopped talking to everyone. No one can help me
anyways. All I do is hurt people and feel bad about that. I don't need
that, not on top of the constant pain and devastation I'm already
feeling. After all, we have been through, I can only look at you, through the eyes you lied to, giving up, giving up, I'm giving up on you, After all there's no way out, if you can not stand beside me if there isn't love there is only pride, I'm giving up, I'm giving up on life. I
want to know whether you'll marry her, want kids, whether she's better
than me, whether she likes the horse, whether she's going to learn how
to ride them, whether your friends like her better than me... I want to
know whether you're life is better now, whether you're happy, whether
you want her to have the house, whether she's a better partner than I
was, whether you love her more.... I want to know whether you'll
stay, whether you're still trying to woo others, whether you really love
me or just find me an easy way out of your trouble, I want to know if I
can end my life and not be missed. Whether there really is no place I
belong. Whether I'll ever really have what I want, whether my life has
any purpose at all. Why are there no questions ever answered? I'm
loved by my parents, maybe even my sister,but is that all? Is that the
meaning of my life? Being a sidekick to everyone? Stand outside their
family's and be there for them? Is that all for me? Is there no family
for me? No home for me? Am I really that alien? Or that angel? I'm
too smart, too sensitive, too perfect for life. Or just too fucked up,
I haven't figured that one out. I feel like I'm better than average,
but no one else seems to think that. Where do I belong, I'm so lost. Can anyone here me? Can anyone please please help me. Save me. Care for me. I don't want to give anymore, I want to receive. Give me nurishments for life. please help.....
And here I am. Lonelier than ever. Everything seems fine. No one knows
what's really going on. They don't care, if I appear normal, they don't
have to worry. As long as I don't kill myself. Everyone's happy.
It's not important how I really feel. Not important that I go through
hell every day. The agony, only getting worse. I can't show it, can't
talk to anyone, devote my life to making others happy. If I'm crying,
I'm told to stop, I swallow my grief and smile, not because I mean it.
Them thinking it's gone. I want a way out. I'm not happy. And I never
will be. No one really knows anyway. No one even asks. How can I
ever have thought there'd be a happy future for me? That I could be
normal. I know what's wrong, I know what's happening, only, no one else
does. What fairytales tell is wrong. There is no true happiness.
People are selfish by nature. There is no knight in shinging armor. No
happy ending, it never happens, when things go down, they don't go up
if you're down enough... They just get worse. Every day. I'm so tired
of living. I'm not really living anymore. Another suicide, gone
unnoticed. Another lonely soul vanished. Not saved by his
surroundings. Goodnight Maarten. Sleep tight. I'll think of you. I
know what you went through. I hope I will be with you soon. No one notices me. No one even replies here. I'm crying out to the world, and no one notices. Please help me? Or let me go?
I'll be where the eagle's flying, higher and higher
Alone, almost alone. All grew tired of me. Of my whining, complaining, and doing nothing about it. How can I make anyone see that there's nothing that can be done? Doesn't matter anymore. I gave up. Given up on existence itself. I'm dead, and glad to be so. No life for me, darkness all around me, waiting, forever waiting. And everything that helped me pass time is gone. Even my laptop is broken now. I just have to sit, hours and hours, waiting for time to pass. Cynical, how every second is streched out to eternity, and that it's the one who doesn't want to live those seconds, who experiences them the most. Life's cruel, no purpose, only death awaits, and not even joy to look forward to. Stop blaming me for wanting to die, there's no fun in living if you're not allowed to live for yourself, if you can't live your life, if you're bound to serve someone else. Only darkness, only fear, only tears, the cage is killing me. Please let me die tonight.
Two names, linked by two letters, proof of your happiness, and my despair. I seem to live for pain. She wants to see me, wants to be my friend, I can only hurt inside for what I've lost. I've been replaced with someone better, not only in your life but in every aspect of mine too. She took over, and you love her for it. I barely sleep. Can't remember when I slept more than four hours, I lay awake, or am kept awake, if I don't, I dream. Horrible dreams. Crazy dreams. Never ending agony. Whether awake or asleep, nothing brings me comfort anymore. The role is getting easier. I stopped fighting it, and I enhance every day. I
don't know whether that's good or bad. It makes him happy though and
that affects me too. Circumstances beyond my control still take flight,
but at least I didn't cause them. I'm vulnerable, I'm lost, I'm lonely, I'm writing my funeral. Line by line, not expecting anyone to be there, but still. I want to be prepared, I don't want to cause more harm than I already did. I need a notary, my will, I must specify my will.... Got to be prepared, I never stopped my life insurance, I wonder whether it 'll pay his mortgage back, bet he'd like that.
"though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for I deserve every sling and arrow that wrecks me..."
I shall not yield I shall not yield Broken inside dead beyond saving. I cannot yield. You do not love me. Things I want I cannot have. Things I lost I can't have back. Useless creature created by light. Nothing but air, swift loss in sight. Everyone scared when my true nature shows. Too beautiful for earth. No place for me. Everything hurts, I'm dying from the inside out.
I dreamt my death last night. I left five hearts broken and the rest of the world relieved. The laughter still echoes in my ears. Glad you're dead. Glad you're dead... Glad you're finally out of my head... Cruel life. I did it myself. I created it. I know I deserve it. Vicious creature, overcomen with fear, not making decisions, all 'll be alright in the end. But it won't. Things will never be alright again. I'll never sleep again. I love you more than living.
Another day another mystery revealed. Talking all night about how you feel, how you still miss her, how you feel guilty for letting her down, lying to her, how perfect she was, that it might have been a mistake. Old feelings that stride with your life now, don't think I don't know what you mean. That's why you ask me why I let you stay, you want me to give you the reason to go back. I can't, I can't give you the reason, I've got the same battle to fight. You will never have suffered enough, and neither will I. We're screwed either way, we can't go without eachother for it's the same reason that keeps us together, we're waiting to get hurt, or hoping the pain 'll go away eventually. We're not that different in many ways. It hurts, it hurts so bad. At least you still talk to her, you can ease your guilt by helping her with your words. Though it's starting to get tougher and tougher not to be with her. I'm still cut off from the world. I can't breathe. I don't want to breathe. I love you, but I don't...
Don't you die on me, you haven't made your peace, live life, breathe, breathe...
Dark wings they are descending, see shadows, gathering around....
Unable to give what you want, you blame me for it. I'm not perfect, and you can't stand it. You feel sorry for yourself having to cope with me. I crash, die inside, can't tell you what I know, your dishonnesty would punish me anyways...
Waking up, feeling the torture, another promise not kept. You can't let it go. You don't understand why I want it, Why I made such a fuzz about it. So you take it away. Another experiment to see how I'd react to it. And I did it again, crashed, panicked, reasons you'd never understand, and if I told you were to blame, you'd only feel sorry for yourself. I can't accuse you of it, because you're never wrong. If you are, it would kill you. And
so I crash. Because I can't give you other reasons, because I can't
make you stop doing this. I can't tell you the truth for the truth will
destroy you, and there's no logical explaination besides the truth.
That shortwires me. Sets me of. Tantrum, hysteria, everything was
there. You slap me, I crash harder, you try to hold me while all I want
is run, run like hell. I can't cope with it. I can't stand trying and
failing, over and over again. You tell me you want to know
everything. Then stop punishing me when I do what you ask me. Truth is
always ugly. And if you can keep things from me because you know
they'll upset me, why can't you trust me that I only keep things from
you that would kill you? If I told you what I see. You'd kill
yourself. Because you fail to see, that it's no big deal, that I accept
you for who you are. Stop the paranoïa, there's nothing I can do,
there's nothing I'm doing, but waiting, 'till you allow me to live
again. And stop pinning things on me that you are doing. I know what
you want, I know what you think, I even know how you feel. I really am
that connected to you, whether I like it or not. I can fucking read your
mind. And I know you know it. Why on earth are you still testing
that? Why the fuck would you want to hurt me so bad? You know I could
never tell you what I see in your head, I need real life evidence, black
on white. Whatever's in your head, you can deny it. Doesn't matter
whether I see it or not. And you'd ask me to stop, and I can't. It
doesn't work like that. I'm IN your head, if you ask me to stop, you'd
have to leave me, get as far away as possible, and then it might end, if
you hurt me enough by loving someone else. Then I'd retreat to protect
myself. No sooner. I'm waiting for it to come crashing down. You're
based on lies, charades, like all the others, you think you're better,
but you're just the same. Human. Nothing more, nothing less, you are
human. And now I see it's you that's killing me, insnaring me, this is me dying in your arms...
To die, to sleep no more, for in that sleep of death what dreams may come? Everything will be normal again. Soon. Drama,
everything I do is wrong, everything I say is wrong, you suffer under
my happiness, because you were alone. I left you. And you're so sorry
for yourself. Shuffing me the responsibility of your wellbeing. Me
being wrong does not make you right. You claim me to be cruel to you
while everything I do I do for you. I changed my life, made everything
as you want it, except for the few things I can't go without. You poor
little thing, beaten down by my life.... I don't feel sorry for you.
You're creating your own doom and try to tell me I'm doing it. You
lie, you cheat, you hate but still, you breathe. And alone I face my burden.
For he's happy with someone else. How are they? My children? Why let me go without a fight? Was I that disappointing? Hell 's a playground compared to what I'm in. No one sees, no one is really looking. I still am me,looks don't show feelings.
What lies are worth revealing? What really is truth after all. If you
lie to me and I never find out, do I need to worry? But I do, I do find
out, I can feel it. You're own behaviour gives you away, time after
time. I read your mind and it tells me everything. I wonder why it's
taking you so long to get over your guilt. That puzzles me. You've
always done it, why still bother? Are you trying to see how far you can
go? As far as you please. That's the whole point. I can't leave, I'm
in the cage. Only thing I can do is not to worry about it. To close
myself up again. You'll never really love me, not unconditionally
that is. There's always the condition that you yourself have to gain
something out of it. Where are you? What are you doing? Questions that drive me on the verge of insanity. If I don't know, do I care? If you know you don't care? Agony, day after day, insecurity, I'm so worthless in your eyes. You don't respect me at all. You can't kill me. I'm already dead, inside my world, inside my head. I run from side to side, locked away in my cage, no sleep, no tears, no games, go feed me to the vulptures. Hang my corpse out to dry. You can't love me. Why do you even stick around?
Imagine a cage. Glass walls, sound and bullet proof. Allows you to
breathe and stay alive. But does not allow you any contact with what
you see. Imagine that no one can see the cage, or what it contains Thats me. Thats my life. Or at least how its become. Now
think that you had it all, a full life, a magnificent partner, a giant
property, the world was at your feet. And then, youre in the cage.
Cut off from everything you had, everything you desired, and no one
notices. Instead, they think you left. They think you didnt want what
you had. And they start over without you. Not really start over, they
just continue living. No one expects you back. No one is waiting. no
one is trying to get you out. Then find out that the cage youre in
does not allow you to cry, scream or utter any emotion what so ever but
happiness and laughter. The torment is so much more unbearable than
physical pain. You feel youre losing your mind. You can feel life and
sanity slipping away second by second. Thats me. Or at least how Ive become. I
hurt myself. To numb the pain inside. Quietly, the cage must not find
out. And sometimes violently, for I cant control it any longer, and
then the cage takes its vengeance And then there are these times,
when all seems fine. When all of the sudden you realize the cage isnt
that bad. Letting your guard down. Stop hiding. But the pain of all
youve lost and cant ever get back smacks you in the face. Selfpity,
rage, jealousy, grief, it all comes back. You want to die. But the
cage doesnt allow you to die. The cage comforts you. And you think
the cage is helping. Confused. All over again. What if Im wrong
and the cage is right? What if Im the problem and the cage merely
protects me and the outside world from it. I let go. I let
everything go. Put my trust in the cage again. It manipulates me, and I
try to manipulate it. Being sure I manage, but not entirely. Im not
convinced Im playing the cage, the cage could be playing me I created the cage, allowed it to trap me. I am the cage I
improve my life by improving others. I dont like the cage, I still
want to go home, but, home isnt there anymore. Therefore I make my
cage conditions better. Not by fighting, but by loving and adapting. Which life is mine? The one I had or the one Im building from scratch? Which do I want? Does that make a difference if you cant have what you want? What if there are no choices?
The endless hours I spend alone you sleep I work, you work I sleep and you've got that other life of which I'm not supposed to know I pretend to myself that I'm imaging all keeping myself from looking for evidence trying to silence my inner voices who are screaming of your betrayal trying to stear clear from you thoughts, I don't want to know, it's easier not to know, at least not to see that you're unaware of your guilt, but I know everything, every tiny detail, it's all there, you don't even try to protect what's in your head don't even wait for me to leave to think of what you'll do once I'm gone I try to give you chances to confess confide in me I beg of you I know what you're thinking I know what you're feeling, I know what experience you're in, I know your drive, your reason You don't think you're doing anything wrong it'll be the retrospect that'll make you realize though I'm not sure you'll ever care you're breaking me please don't do this I've got so much more to lose than you for you'll never see me as worthy, for you love yourself the most, I'm another snack on your plate of life, I know to you I'll never be special... And you'll always be sure you deserve better than me... But please please, don't break me, please kill me.
Sometimes I wonder if suicides aren't in fact sad guardians of the meaning of life
At great periods you have always felt, deep within you, the temptation to commit suicide. You gave yourself to it, breached your own defenses. You were a child. The idea of suicide was a protest against life; by dying, you would escape this longing for death.
However great a man's fear of life, suicide remains the courageous act, the clear-headed act of a mathematician. The suicide has judged by the laws of chance -- so many odds against one that to live will be more miserable than to die. His sense of mathematics is greater than his sense of survival. But think how a sense of survival must clamor to be heard at the last moment, what excuses it must present of a totally unscientific nature.
