إنه مجرد وهم

expressive free-writing blog. all rights reserved to Reem AL-Abdullah, 2018(c)

Category: mental illness

They say, if you can imagine it..

When it’s time, I’ll be leaving with no explanation.

You, dear reader, shall be so accommodated to the fact that I’d talk it out, not realizing that it’s merely part of their orders. They give me the power to wield my silver tongue only when it works well with their plan. To keep me around; like the empty knight armor I am.

Here I am, now; attempting to explain what I can, yet you’d think you’ve heard it all before; feel safe that I still won’t be going anywhere, but really you’re just unaware of the overflow that pushed you down the wretched riverbed of words, you’d try to keep up with my stream, yet unlike promised, it shall never lead you down to my oceans. Deceptively enough; my once were gentle waters shall rather take you six feet under; down my dry, unmarked pit.

A scratch in space-time, tearing you apart ripple by ripple.

You shall not recognize my voice when I cry from it, when I cry for help; but I already am long gone.. Like a deafening echo of a howl that wrenches your stomach; I’d remain lost in my own endless vacuum; the still, pitch-black abyss. However bit by bit, I shall drive you mad along with me. still.

Despite the moonlight shining through a clear night sky; despite the fact that you were so sure of each action you ever took on my behalf. You could never understand a single word in its regard till you let it destroy you, too.

Are you willing to lose your breath to it? drown your conscious existence whilst still in the prime of being alive?

You might think you cannot fathom what they are, but.. it can be done. Just pay attention.


cigarette bud talk

feel your tongue curl in your mouth as you choke on your words that you should’ve said ages ago.

they fermented, they’re your bad breath and that sour taste you leave in the new woman’s mouth.

“why do you taste this way” she’d ask, hopeful you had lunch but really, you had none for two weeks now; you smile as she says you look healthier, but it’s only the rum and endless cigarettes you poison yourself with at night to fall asleep; lucid dreaming of memories you once thought were your whole life.

it’s the baggy sweater she bought you assuming your health; but you never got naked for her, she can’t see your rib cage breaking through your skin trying to spit out your heart.

i’m just a piece of shit now. they say.

but she’ll never know, if you haven’t either.


i can’t begin to explain how i pretend to be human.

yes, i “feel”.. to a certain degree?

i mean, i’m moody due to my bpd and i express! -for fuck’s sake, i am right now- but it’s different than what’s around me.. what’s supposed to be.

i know how to prefect something i’m not, surpassing ridiculous limits; you really have no idea, and it’s not out of malice, rather i feel.. obligated? to remain with the status quo? but technically i’m not!? i don’t know. all i know is that i’m reading this song’s lyrics about heartbreak and loss, and though i supposedly am going through the same thing; it’s rather betrayal i’m feeling that’s hurting my pride and the image of how things should still be.

my distraction is gone, what helps me pretend, that is it.

i’m too detached. to the extent where i want to go all the way; hoping at least i’d feel at peace, not this fake normal- well kept crazy!

why do i crave objectivity so much..


i physically want to crawl on all fours till i find your arms, unhinge my jaws and devour your chest, till i find home, drown myself in your fears; that’s where i belong. i might be your worst nightmare, but that only means you’re my safety, lover. i don’t understand most of what goes around me; the world is confusingly upside-down, most of the time. that’s why i hold on tightly to what i barely comprehend, that being you, as you scream pleading for our soundings to turn a one eighty, back to your heaven; to my living hell. 


it is a weird form of sadness; sourceless, painless, though its presence is very much so, sensible it cannot be missed.
indeed, it comes from nowhere. yet even so, it is persistent! maddening…. 

it not only begs, but fights to be noticed; and how could it not be? how could something that consistently hits you in the face, out of the fucking blue not get merely noticed!? 

mhm.. damned are the ones whom understand this.. via experience.

Autumn Amidst Spring 

I wish these horrid thoughts would leave me alone.

I wish I could be free from them..


but they’re engrossed within my core.

it almost feels like that if I let go, I’d lose them?

thus consequently, losing most parts of my..self.


I’ll continue to cry out; why do we fall when we’re supposed to bloom!?