once upon a time there was a girl who wanted to put her fist through a mirror. she would tell everyone it was so that she could see what was on the other side, but really, it was so that she wouldn’t have to look at herself. that, and because she thought she might be able to steal a piece of glass when no one was looking, and use it to carve her heart out of her chest.

so when no one was watching, she went to the mirror and forced herself to be brave enough to open her eyes just this one last time. but to her suprise, she didn’t see her reflection. she didn’t see anything at all. confused, she stretched her hand up to touch the mirror and realized that the glass was missing, that she could fall through to the other side.

that’s exactly what happened.

things got even stranger, though, when she walked through this other world and found people staring at her — not because she was so disgusting but because they all wanted to look like her. at school, kids at different lunch tables fought to have her sit with them. she always got the answers right when she was picked by a teacher in class. her email inbox was overflowing with love letters from boys who could not live without her.

at first, it felt incredible, like a rocket was taking off under her skin every time she was out in public. but then, it got a little old. she didn’t want to give out her autograph when she bought a pack of gum at the gas station. she would wear a pink shirt, and by lunchtime, the rest of the school was wearing pink shirts, too. she got tired of smiling all the time in public.

she realized that things weren’t all that different on this side of the mirror. nobody really cared about her here. the reason people copied her and fawned over her had very little to do with who she was, and far more to do with who they needed her to be, to make up for some gaping hole in their own lives.

she decided she wanted to go back to the other side. but she had to do it when no one was watching, or they’d follow her there. the only problem was, there was never no one watching. she had nightmares about the people who trailed after her, who would cut themselves to pieces on the broken glass as they crawled through the mirror after her; how they’d lie bleeding on the floor and how the look in their eyes would change when they saw her on this side, unpopular and ordinary.

when she couldn’t stand another minute, she started to run. she knew there were people following, but she couldn’t stop to think about them. she was going to fly through the space in the mirror, no matter what it took. but when she got there, she smacked her head against the glass — it had been repaired. it was whole and thick and impossible to break through. she flattened her palms against it. where are you going? everyone asked. can we come, too? she didn’t answer. she just stood there, looking at her old life, without her in it.

pg 439, 440.
handle with care, jodi picoult.

this depression phase i’m going through is burning a hole in my pocket.

let’s see. i’ve spent about rm100 on cabs the week before this; my trip to the hospital yesterday cost exactly rm216.55; i bought two eyeliners in the past three weeks for like, rm70; all the random, stupid purchases are slowly adding up to insane amounts of money — like scented hand sanitizer, m&ms, black pantyhose, bottles after bottles of 2 liter mineral water, rose hair bands, wtf?; and i just got back from forever 21, where i went completely crazy and parted ways with rm148 for a blue dress and a plain grey top. the moment i walked out of the store, i realized that i don’t even like the color blue! wtf!

this is all your fault.

facebook is getting on my nerves. all these photos; all these happy faces and intimate groups of which i no longer wish to be part of; they’re punching holes in my thinly veiled calm demeanor. i cannot look away.

honestly, all i wanna do now is just fucking shoot someone, anyone.

…

…

paint a smile. or fake it. even force it, if need may arise. as i’ve been told over and over again, i’m pretty good at … presenting myself in the best light possible. okay, so here’s the bright side: i probably won’t get that job (i accept the fact that i am not nearly as tall or as thin or as pretty as the other 23 girls; so from now on i’ll start a new diet, and maybe get some plastic surgery yay :D FML), but at least that leaves me free for a new tattoo on friday. provided that benny isn’t too occupied.

:)

…

everything is failing on me. it’s like all i do is cry these days. wake up, cry. fag, cry. shower, cry. and another round of crying before i go to sleep. i don’t eat anymore. i don’t think i can stand to have food in my system, on top of all the misery. and i am not kidding when i say i need to see a skin doctor, now. frankly, i just want to go home.

…

so pretty, so smart.
such a waste of young heart.
don’t you see it’s wrong, can’t you get it right?
out of mind, out of sight.

…

call on all your girls, don’t forget the boys
put a lid on all that noise!
i’m a satellite heart, lost in the dark.

…

i’m spun out so far
you stop, i start
but i’ll be true to you.

…

i hear you’re living out of state,
running in a whole new scene
you know,
i haven’t slept in weeks
you’re the only thing i see.

…

i’m a satellite heart, lost in the dark
i’m spun out so far
you stop i start
but i’ll be true to you.

the best way i can try.

…

meet me on the equinox, meet me half way when the sun is perched at its’ highest peak in the middle of the day. let me give my love to you, let me take your hand as we walk in the dimming light … but darling understand that everything, everything ends; that everything, everything ends.

meet me on your best behavior, meet me at your worst for there will be no stone unturned or bubble left to burst. let me lay beside you, darling, let me be your man and let our bodies intertwine … but darling understand that everything, everything ends; that everything, everything ends.

everything,

everything,

everything ends.

…

once upon a time, i fell in love. i fell hard, and i fell a long, long way down. to that end, i gave him my heart and my soul, my body and my mind. i promised him eternity and forever and always; i compromised and created time and carefully navigated my way through the ugly scenes of being in a relationship. we drew a map of future, we built a bridge of which to get from here to wherever it was we wanted to be five, ten, fifteen years from now. too late i realized the bridge was made of thorns and unsteady, rotting wood — which may not be steady enough to hold us both, and the weight of our combined pride and conviction and tenacity. and that in order to cross over, i would be leaving part of myself behind. too late i realized, i could not imagine being without him, and at the same time i could not imagine the opposite. too late i realized i was far too attached, and that to separate myself, i would be abandoning a vital part of myself with him. the heart.

i will be answer
at the end of the line.

in the burning of uncertainty
i will be your solid ground.
if it takes my whole life,
i won’t break
i won’t bend.

cast me gently
into water
for the night has been unkind.

once upon a time, i fell in love. in between then and now, i lost everything else that made me who i used to be; like peeling back layers after layers after layers only to find absolutely nothing left.

forgive me, for i cannot and will not do likewise in this case.

i will not, ever again.

…

she walked under the conviction of her own pride. loosely shackled chains trailed behind her — past drama, history at a glance, a metafuckingphor. nobody said it would be easy; but who said it was going to bruise?; did anyone tell her it would slap, hit her in the face?; nobody said it was bound to leave her breathless and bleeding and broken. a little bit of warning would have been nice. desperately, she tried flagging down a cab. at three in the morning, its absence was not unexpected. but did she want to go back there tonight? did she? the words, the harsh, harsh words rang in her mind. slut. dirty. disgusting. slut. each flashed red in front of her eyes, while the tears streamed down silently. she said the words out loud. tested it, weighed it on her tongue. not good. she felt his hand on her arm, pulling her back, pushing, pulling. they would mark tomorrow. she closed her eyes, and tried to find her happy place. stop. let go. was she waiting for someone to put her back in her place? put her together.

she walked. under the conviction of her own pride.

…

“i’ll try!” she said as he walked away, “try not to lose you.” two vibrant hearts could change; nothing tears the being more than deception, unmasked fear. “i’ll be here waiting,” tested and secure. nothing hurts my world, just affects the ones around me. when sin’s deep in my blood, you’ll be the one to fall. “i wish i could be the one, the one who won’t care at all. but being the one on the stand, i know the way to go, no one’s guiding me. when time soaked with blood turns its back, i know it’s hard to fall. confided in me was your heart. i know it’s hurting you, but it’s killing me.” nothing will last in this life. our time is spent constructing, now you’re perfecting a world meant to sin. constrict your hands around me, squeeze till i cannot breathe; this air tastes dead inside me, contribute to our plague, break all your promises, tear down this steadfast wall, restraints are useless here, tasting salvation’s near.

…

killing you, or killing myself. is it possible to self explode from sheer frustration and raw disappointment? i am so close. too close. i don’t know if i’m just pissed off, or … just seriously hurt. i always knew you’d do it again. and i always knew you wouldn’t be sorry about it, after. it’s like. i don’t know. i really don’t know. i just need to get the fuck out of here.

:(

…