Ctrl+Z. Ctrl+Me.

"Just living is not enough", said the butterfly, "one must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower."
— Hans Christian Andersen.

i've given all i can.

"I'll take a quiet life, a handshake of carbon monoxide."


The Diary of the Sick and Lost.

The battle within myself
to decide what's right and what's wrong.
The dilemma at a fork road
to decide which path to take.


I could not bear to give it up,
told myself it was the last.
One last time,
and never again.

It failed,
the willpower toppling over.
The habit was not bad,
but it could not be kicked.

I could not bear to stop myself any longer
for it has grown onto me
becoming a part of me.
I would need some shaking.

It was an effective remedy.
I would question myself,
why remove the cure
if the cure isn't killing me.

It will always be my escape,
my wonderland, my paradise.


I would look at the cartoons,
read the dialogues,
get locked up and engrossed
in that fantasy world.

I would ask myself
if I wished I could be like her.
I would love to be like her
a character so fictional, so impossible.

I would ask myself
if it could possibly be real.
The backstory so intriguing,
I couldn't keep my mind off it.

It was an addiction
I could not let go off.
I wonder why I get so hooked
why I want it to be real.

It was a form of escape
to forget about what reality is really like.


Escapades are addictive.
Running away from responsibility,
floating away from caring about feelings,
disappearing, just disappearing.

Disappearing into a world
where nothing could hold me back,
where nothing could hold us back,
and I would feel so safe.

A sanctuary where I could be
a safe place where I could stay
hiding away from interactions
hiding away from being someone I'm not.

When the bubble bursts,
the high walls are forced down.
The sanctuary shatters,
a safe haven exists no more.

It was a plan to escape,
to run away to become myself again.


I could not look back any longer.
I wanted to move forward.
Let go of unwanted thoughts,
let go of unhappy feelings.

I wanted to bring in the new
the happy thoughts and the happy feelings.
I wanted to tell myself
everything is alright now.

I wanted to tell myself,
I'm safe now.
Those images, those thoughts worried me no more.
But they never stop coming back.

Stop thinking of others as being filthy,
stop thinking of others as being scheming.
The world ain't as hostile,
as I'm imagining it out to be.

The thoughts blocked out reality.
Getting addicted to thinking was an escape.


And it made me wonder,
if ultimately all I wanted to do was run.

Run away, run away,
to a safe place,
to a quiet place,
where I could just be me.


For a minute there,
I lost myself, I lost myself.



it's not enough.


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