I Wish I May, I Wish I Might

Marlboro light,
Ash turning white,
First breath I breathe tonight.
Spark the light, inhale, feeling right,
Close my eyes and slowly die.

Overflow

What the fuck is real, and what is fake?
We always sit aimlessly pondering, "What of my fate?
How many lives can I touch, what does it take?
How can I do what I love, and stock a hearty plate?"

All of these questions pressing constantly, they've got me restless
It's kind of hard to fathom when you've alway been the "next best"
Trying to tame my thoughts with drugs and meaningless sex,
Have to be blind for not seeing that these things can't bring success.

"Do your best, no matter what" I've always been told,
But doing my best and getting nowhere's getting fucking old.
How can you stay warm if you're always buried in the snow?
A happy face to show, with demons in my soul.

I've sat through bullshit and believed way too many lies,
I've gotten way too many calls saying that friends have died,
Whether it be in body, or deceased in mind,
Gave up everything I've ever had, don't sleep at night.

And I pay the price.

What the fuck is real, what do I know?
It takes everything that I've got not to just fucking blow
It's hard to get somewhere if you don't know which way to go,
Surrounded by so many people but always alone.

It's not an easy path, it's a treacherous road.
My head is tired, my mind is weak, my story's been foretold.
Futile attempts to stand up straight, and not to fold,
Doing everything I can not to be bought or sold.

This story never seems to end its infinite cycle
I really hope one day I'll be able to get it right though
Forever blinded by the synthetic highs and lows
Until I'm all alone with my thoughts, after the night slows.

They always say it's all about the journey, not the end
But I always catch myself hoping that around the bend
Something will be there for me, even if it's just a friend.
The journey's killing me, there's only so long I can pretend.

Open wounds to mend.

Transition

Late nights still young, 

Just kids, and dumb,

Running from

All good that comes,

Hearts grow numb

Feelings are shunned

And everyone

Will soon become

All alone.

Scarred, skin and bones

Scared of unknown

And monotoned

In sinking boats 

That really float

But only go

Around a moat

In denial.

Nothing is worthwhile,

Thoughts on a turnstile

Extending for miles

Lined up in file

Falsified smiles

Cunning and guile

Spilt down an aisle

Tears trickle.

Wounds from a sickle

Endlessly fickle

Peer through a brick hole 

To see light.

Use all your might

Hop on a flight

Swallowing pride 

Know it feels right

New warmth inside 

Staleness has died

Little butterflies 

New and clear sight

Thinking "this must be life" 

You blossom. 

An old, fragile doorway, with paint wearing thin.

A beautiful day, a fading grin.

Leaves singing songs, with the help of the wind.

A dust riddled patio, beaten couches to sit. 

Red, gray and orange, a wall made of bricks.

Empty beer cans, and burnt cigarettes.

And I am content, among all of this. 

Star Tripper

Night is completely underrated. The crisp air. The solemness and severe lack of the bustling sound of society. The vast, infinite blackness of the sky, with subtle speckles of sparkling stars. There is no other time in which the world is so still and calm, and no better time to collect your thoughts.  I love night.  When the business of the day slows down, nobody is rushing to get to get to insignificant places or do meaningless things (that for some reason seem oh so important). The world is so hurried. There isn't enough time in the world to please anyone, it seems. This is why I like night time.  I'm alone, while humanity slumbers, to breathe, and to not be concerned with small worries that are brought about within normal waking hours.

History

I know that this is kind of an uncomfortable topic for a lot of people, and that a lot of people would much prefer to stay blind to things like this, but I feel like it's really important. I will be going into a lot of detail about it, and it might be disturbing to some. So if you wish, feel free to continue reading.  If you'd rather not, I'm not offended.

If you know me well, chances are that I've opened up to you about having struggled very seriously with depression throughout my life. There's no reason, there's not a specific incident that took place that triggered my bouts of low self-esteem. I had a great life, grew up in a loving family, had everything I could have ever asked for...it's not something that I have ever been able to control. I've just simply been depressed. 

I first noticed that it was a severe issue when I was eleven years old, when I had my first incident of legitimately contemplating suicide.  I had always dreamed of running away, to get away from everything, thinking that it would make everything better; but I had never before thought up a plan to take my own life. 

I sat awake for hours and hours, for weeks, thinking about how best to off myself.  I wrote countless suicide notes and hid them throughout my room.  I decided I was going to do it oldschool, shove a knife straight through my stomach and let myself bleed out.  Luckily, one of my parents was awake late that night when I went downstairs. I sat and reflected on the decision, and chose that I was going to be better.  Good Charlotte had recently released their video for "Hold On", and it hit pretty hard that it wasn't worth it and I needed to stay. 

Nobody knew a thing about it.  

I started struggling in school, which was never even close to an issue before.  I started to be deviant, and lying about everything, whether it was even a big deal or not.  I could not figure out how to be happy, and it was taking a serious toll on me, physically and emotionally. 

Years went by, and I was doing a lot better. I'd still feel low every now and then, I mean, it's not like I was all cheery and happy all the time, but I hadn't thought about suicide in a very long time. I was playing highschool sports, had a good group of friends, traveling and playing music that I loved, and I was never alone with my thoughts.  I felt like the intentions I had beed repressing for so long were finally gone for good.  But then one night, I had a dream.

Yes, I know it's just a dream, but it scared the living shit out of me: 

I was sitting in a room with a circular table, and a light.  All you could see was the table and infinite blackness around it. 

Upon the table there was a gun, and a single bullet. 

I looked curiously at it, loaded the round into the chamber, stuck it into my mouth and pulled the trigger.

I floated out of my body and watched myself die.

This dream wasn't only scary because of the content of the dream; this dream meant something much more detrimental.  This dream brought awareness to the fact that those thoughts that I'd tried so hard to get rid of, those thoughts that I never wanted to ever cross my mind again...they had been laying dormant in the back of my head.  They weren't gone.  They were just sitting there in my subconscious, waiting for the perfect time to return.

I tried my best to never let it show.  Still, nobody had a clue about what was going on deep in my mind.  I'd hidden it and put up facades for almost ten years, and nobody knew a fucking thing about it.  I had too much pride.  

I started abusing substances, always trying to numb myself to my own thoughts, but of course it only hurt me worse.  

One day in the summer of 2012, everything finally exploded inside of me. I decided I was finally done.  

I drank an entire bottle of whiskey and drove through Logan Canyon at speeds greatly exceeding the limit, hoping that something would go wrong on the way over and that it would all look like an accident.  If I were to make it to Bear Lake, I was going to watch my last sunrise, and then on the way back, clip a guard rail and roll my car into a ravine hundreds of feet below.  I knew that canyon road like the back of my hand; I knew exactly where to flip my car so that it would be the most effective.  As I was flying down the road, a certain song came on on my iPod's shuffle.  "Amber" by Stick To Your Guns.  If you don't know what the song is about, it's about (in a very brief summary) a young girl who wants to die, but she doesn't know how much she means to everyone. It's about realization of self worth.  

That song came on, and it had to be fate.  I pulled over, broke down, and bawled for a very long time.  If it weren't for that song, it's pretty safe to say that I wouldn't be here. 

Since then, I've become much more open about my depression.  The reason being, I feel like it has helped me out in ways that nothing else could.  I'm too prideful to go to see a therapist about it.  I feel like the fact that people know about it makes it that much harder for me to ever be able to go through with it.  By letting you know, it's not that I'm seeking attention.  It's about the fact that I'm proud that I've overcome it, and dealt with it for so long. It's about showing that I trust that people actually care about me.  It's about holding MYSELF accountable, because I would never want someone to feel like it was their fault if I went through with it.

If you end up reading this, don't treat me any differently, like I'm unstable or need help. It's not like that at all. I'm perfectly healthy, and while I have breakdowns every now and then, I've come to realize that it's completely normal, and everyone does.

If you're ever dealing with depression, know that you're not alone in it. You're never alone. People legitimately want to help, and they care about you.  You are loved.  If you're ever feeling down at all, I encourage you to open up about it to someone. Anyone. It's so much better than keeping everything bottled up, because one day that bottle will blow up. It's the best thing that I've ever done for myself.

You can let it consume you, or you can be proud of what you've learned about yourself and who you've become because of it. 

Rant.

Since when did everyone become so damn scared of life? I swear to god, nobody DOES anything anymore.  I see so many people building their dream lives over social media platforms, rather than actually building their dreams to be lived out, and being too fucking scared to take a chance on anyone, because nobody wants to get hurt.

EVERYTHING that is worth it in life is going to hurt you at one point, to some degree or another.

You fail a class, and you lose a scholarship.  Detrimental.  Are you completely giving up on your degree? Hell no. 

You go snowboarding and break your wrist.  Are you going to stop snowboarding? I hope not. 

And so on.

Get over your glorified ideas of what life should be based around twitter and "__ Things You Should Know About ____" blogs, because life is not even close to that way.

End all these bullshit trends like awful grammar, "side hoes", and the rest of the monstrosity that has plagued our generation.  Go out and fucking do things.  Go meet someone new.  Go on dates.  Take a chance on that nice guy that you're so positive will end up turning into a complete asshole.  Go adventure.  Engage in risky behavior.  Get your adrenaline going.  Make moves and stake your claim.  You're going to be miserable, and that will never stop as long as you keep waiting for things to magically happen, rather than taking the initiative to make them. 

If you were to die today, would you be satisfied with what you accomplished with your time here?

No?

That's on you.

Stop being scared of life.