Talking

Sometimes I want to talk to someone
Usually my online friends
Usually because I'm upset or I'm feeling redundant
But at the same time I can't
All I can do is watch them talk to each other
I'd private message them but they wouldn't check unless I asked them to, and I just.. Can't
I hate when it happens
It hate more when it happens at the same time as someone who is usually distant and upset finally being present and somewhat happy
I wind up feeling pushed out, unnecessary
Someone said something to me once, that I need to get used to people not talking to me much
I guess they were right
I need to get used to being alone, to having no one
Maybe that's the only way to protect ourselves from other people
But it's also easier said than done. My resolve has been better recently but it's still bad
I just.. Don't know what to do in situations like this
When I'm sat, watching them talk, wishing I could say.. Anything
But I can't..
They'd never know.. Wouldn't realise till it was too late..
But of course I'm bound by a promise from the past, one that shouldn't even matter to me anymore but for some reason it does
Sometimes it's the only thing that keeps me tethered here, I think
But what would I know..
I'm just a voice in the wind

AKs/Feastlings (The Brothers)

Tall men with shaggy hair, their skin colours alternating like those of a human. Eyes a startling array of blues and purples, very few with green tints in their eyes. They usually wear ripped shirts, baggy pants, and gentle smiles. They are in themselves a lie.
Watch their eyes change, the colour draining out of them to flood their skin, leaving the whites of their eyes stained the colour of their normal skin, their irises a bleached white. Watch their grins turn feral, they need not grow in size and instead they grow smaller, though not by much. Sharp black teeth sprout from blood red gums as their skin grows taught on their face, their skull nearly visible. Gaze upon them, the beasts that stand and instil fear in the hearts and minds of others. Listen to the frequencies, the waves of power radiating off them, capable of killing a man. Or sustaining one. Listen to the brutal laughter, the human voice which echoes from their chests. Listen to the deep roar which can crumble buildings, and their deafening whistle that can shatter glass. Feel their influence, their control. These are not the ones who went wrong. Stand in awe of these skin and bones monsters, their strength hidden deep within, making you dare to believe them weak.
Feel their sharp claws grating against your rib cage, their teeth ripping away your flesh. Whimper at the glee in their eyes as they feast, sustaining you, amplifying your pain, eating you alive. Cower as they devour your organs, your strength. Cry as they rip out your heart, slipping it into their bags and biting through your delicate skull. Endure the crunching, scraping, grinding, snapping, breaking of who you are as they take your brain for their sustenance.
And rejoice as you wake within your body, your eyes new, smiling gently and watching your prey. Feel the power vibrating beneath your skin, writhing and waiting, a kaleidoscope of voices echoing in your mind, welcoming you, guiding you. Celebrate, for you are a lucky one. You are a worthy one. And you are no longer a no one.
You are an AK. You are a Feastling.
Now join your brothers.

I'm 100% No One Reads This Anymore

Maybe I'm a goody two shoes
Or maybe I'm just a wimp
Maybe I'm a dork or a dweeb or a prude

Idk.

But I have really big problems with when my family do/ talk about illegal or controversial things positively.

Even if it's legal in another country it makes me feel uncomfortable.
Well, that and childish.

I don't even know why, all I know is it makes me want to run away from the conversation/act.

But I can't usually.

And it makes me frustrated, it makes me sad and angry and uncomfortable and just so.. Unhappy.

Yeah.

Is life just one big gimmick?
Is there something in it?
I don't know.
Is life just about fact?
This means this and that.
I suppose so?
What am I doing wrong?
Writing this weird "song?"
I doubt it.

I don't know how to ask for help.
Well, I know how to, because that is simple.
I guess I just don't know how to allow myself to ask for help.
How to say "can I talk to someone"

I sit and stare at my phone, mouth silently opening and closing.
It's no use. You won't speak.

I can't make people with bigger problems listen to my whining.
So recently I've taken to writing post's I'll never publish, then deleting them. At least then I get to vent, just to open space. To nobody. To the sarcastic persona I characterize here.
That would be MS Sarcastic Persona to you.
 Sometimes I think about leaving. Not leaving home, or life, but leaving the online.
I don't know why I think of that, all my support is here, online.
Most, not all. Idiot.
Whatever. But it's true, the majority of my support comes from my online friends.. leaving would only hurt me and them.

It ties into my self sabbotage theory.
I think that I sabbotage myself, stop myself from being who I can be.
I've had two main turning points in my life so far, both being when I moved school. At my first primary school I was content, I was happy. A sweet little smart duckling. The I moved to a different primary school and, well I became quite violent. I settled down again upon going to secondary school, but I do wonder where my self sabbotaging went, and also where all that anger and violence went.. and where it started..

I'm going to post this. I've decided I will.