My Secrets, My Nightmares

Posted: July 19, 2014 in Uncategorized

Every night I lie awake, pondering about what dreadful mistake I will make tomorrow based on the ones I made today. I think of the failures I have done, the ones I’m doing, and the ones I will do simply because failure is inevitable. What is the point to look towards the new day dawning at the crest of the continuous sky when all there is, are dark and stormy clouds towering and expanding as vast as the sun’s rays? When someone asks me of what I dreamt about, I usually say nothing or some fleeing memory of happier times. What I don’t tell them, what I keep inside, is the truth. The truth is, I dream of death. I don’t mean to dream of death and who means to? I dream of such darkness because it is ultimately what I fear the most and to conquer the fear, you must face it head on. So there is no point in looking for that ray of sunshine because the forecast is a gray-cast clouds for as long as I exist. Fear what you dream so that you get it over with because fearing death is like fearing to breathe, while we don’t want to think about it, it is truly inevitable.

My nightmares are not always death, sometimes it can be happier things like having friends or finding love, both of which I never excel at, but in all honesty, never commit to trying. When having friends, you only want to think about how many things in common you have with each other and how entertained you are in each other’s company. What you refuse to think about is the fact that in five or ten years, you will most likely never talk to them ever again for one reason or another. The similar aspect goes for relationships, while you’re stuck on cloud nine, I would ponder the successfulness of what is to come and how soon it may all wither again to nonexistence. However, it is not like I try to make this happen, I just become realistic at the most inconvenient times and question “now that it has started, how long until it ends?” By asking this, I do not mean that I would want it to end, after all, why start something if you don’t care about breathing life into it? I only mean that the probability of failure is relatively high given that I am featured in the equation, and that is the problem, me.

Along with death and happiness, one more fear is my secrets, the things I know as fact, but only other people know as rumors in the wind. Some of the things I know can destroy me simply because it would turn everyone against me. While I am not entirely too afraid of this, simply because it has already happened, it is not something I would gladly look forward to. Everyone knows a few of my secrets because in some aspects, I am an open book. However, most of the time, there are things that I keep secret so no one knows. Things like: What really led to my sophomore year of high school being so dangerous?, or Who do I really blame for my parents’ divorce and the grudges that still linger over a decade later?, then there is the one I fear most, what kind of monster am I since no one knows?. To know the answers to these questions and many like them, you would have to know me better than I know myself. My secrets are the nightmares locked in the dark and creped corners of my heart at which are only accessed during my darkest times and may never see the light of day. My secrets are my nightmares. My nightmares are my monster. And my monster is me.

“The whole blear world
of smoke and twisted steel
around my head in a railroad
car, and my mind wandering
past the rust into futurity:
I saw the sun go down
in a carnal and primeval
world, leaving darkness
to cover my railroad train
because the other side of the
world was waiting for dawn.” 
 Allen Ginsberg


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