to be called hard working and deserve success you have to actually work a lot. 

i dont like it

untitled

its a fight right.
its a fight to not harm yourself. i hear my own voice in my head, begging for pain, begging to punish myself for not being enough. for not going to uni or to work.
all this stupid stuff, that i measure myself at.
its okay its okay, to have to take breaks because of your mental health. my brain is a shitty place. its angry its mad agt me.
i know its okay. logically. i know. im sick and i need to take that into my calculations but its so difficult when in comparison to normal people my problems are .. stupid.
normal ppl dont need breaks because they .. slept too much. woke up late. didnt do their work in time. i missed uni yesterday and today. my brain is screaming and im trying to keep it under controll.
i know that i have blades. i found them while cleaning. i thought i threw all of them away.
i didnt.
i want to. i want to harm me. i want to punish myself. i dont know what else to do. i feel mad at myself. i wanna let it out somehow.
i used to go on runs for this. now im fat and useless.
gosh im so mad at myself. i wanna kill myself. i wanna.
i dont because i dont wanna make my friends sad. i dont want jonas to brush up against me and feel new wounds. and look at me with those sad eyes.
he would leave. he would. after a while if i relapse.
i dont know if  i could survive that. 

untitled #3

I think it says a shitton about how I feel about you by the way that even the thought that you might be in the same supermarket as me, even if its absurd, is making me have a panic attack and I cant watch old videos that i made to "save the moment" because Im scared of the memories or how I have nightmares about you visiting my flat and coming inside although I could juat not let you in but I know myself, I know that i will do it just like last time when you came and stole a kiss you didn't deserve.
Or how I still keep your note and remember your face so dearly, how I cant hear certain songs without wanting to cry.
I dont know how to let go even though I should. But then again. Does it really matter.

untitled #2

I bolt up when I look at the clock. Again I slept too much.
Used to having only a few minutes to get ready I jump out of my bed, starting to pick up some clothes from the ground just to decide to wear the same as yesterday. A quick glance in the mirror assures me to skip breakfast, as the fat aquired during the past few months could probably bring me through the next month or two without me even slightly looking thin.
I push my laptop in a bag, my keys in my pocket and I'm off.
Headphones blasting music in my ears help me to cope with the world around me while I feel like everyone is judging the fattie sitting on the tram with two bags.
As I arrive at uni I try to pick a place that hasn't too much people crowed there. I often succeed since no one wants to sit in the front, and so I spend the next two hours listening to mathematics that I already know, turning my pen around in my hands and checking my phone for messages that wont come because why would anyone text me?
When the class is over I slowly put my stuff away, bracing myself for the social interaction I am about to encounter, just to decide that today, I won't annoy anyone, that I won't waste anyones time with my existence.
I almost run to my next class, I catch a glance of the people who I spent my evenings learning with, hear their laughter and look at the ground so that no one can see the tears standing in my eyes again.
Weak.
I choose a place so far in the back that I most certainly won't see the blackboard but seeing it wouldn't change a thing anyways since I am just a stupid kid that won't achieve anything in life either way.
In the front I can see the back of the heads of people that I know. I would assume they are looking for me, but since I know how useless I am I am sure that they are relieved that they don't have to be around me today.
I barely listen to the lecture as I am trying to hide the fact that tears are almost streaming down my face. It's good that I picked a place this far back, no one is looking at me anyways.
After the lesson I freeze as my friends make their way up the stairs, ´before I hide beneath my table as they are looking around. I wait a few minutes until I am sure that they are gone before packing my stuff and quickly leaving, trying to think of a place where I can learn without bumping into anyone (aka annoying them). The library seems like my only option.
I quickly put my stuff in one of the lockers, only taking my folder and laptop, and hide myself for the next few hours between maths and science, desperatly trying to convince myself that I am not as stupid as I tell myself that I am.
Late in the evening I come home, after another exhausting tram ride full of people that were pressing against me. I pick something from the fridge, I don't even care, indulding myself in calories as my brain turns off for a bit. Thank god for eating disorders, although I'd prefer if I could purge but I don't wanna strain my relationship with my roommates even more. Maybe I should try throwing up in plastic bags again as I used to do at home and in my old flat, but where would I put that stuff?
So I just gain more weight, become more of a ball and hate myself more.
It's midnight when I am able to start gaming. Some people are online, I am talking, but I am constantly scared of someone getting mad at me, or even worse, me getting excited, happy and people muting me because I am just so annoying. It happened before.
I play shit, as perusual, ending in a depressed episode with tears streaming.
"I'm going to sleep, thanks for the games" I type in the chat before turning off Teamspeak, turning off the internet on my pc.
I know what I am going to do, it's obvious. But I try to delay it either way, staring at the silver metal laying beneath my computer screen. As I slowly grab it I catch a glance at my reflection in it, a fat face that is even more puffier due to crying.
As I place it on my skin, knowing that I deserve this pain, I cry once more only to be quiet and just feeling my deserved punishment.
I watch the blood pouring down my arm for a bit, if I even was able to get that deep, before trying to patch myself up, going to bed and falling asleep after crying some more, clutching my dog toy wanting it to be a human that could ease my pain for a bit.
But I am alone.
And always will be. 

The body of water that is life - untitled #1

Life seems to be a dark ocean,
Fog stops me from seeing far,
They're trying hard to hunt me down,
But tbh I just want to drown. 

My arms are heavy from swimming long,
My energy is about to fade.
I'd like to stop and have some rest,
To ease the fire in my chest. 

I can barely breathe,
Lungs are filled with water.
If nothing changes and this keeps going on,
It wont be long until im done.

But the ocean doesn't seem to have an end,
My demons start to catch up to me.
The end is near, thats what I see,
I guess this is how it had to be.

- Aki Silver, 18.08.16