Welcome To My Breakdown

So much on my mind these days that this is probably going to be a rambling stream of consciousness that no one will understand all of it and only a few will care. That works for me.
Have you ever you done anything so incredibly stupid yet so needed that you can't believe the intensity of the feelings it stirred up inside you? Given 150% to something, laid it all down, stripped yourself down more than you ever thought you could or should, only to be met with silence? Not dumbfounded silence, but complete and utter silence? The silence that translates into you can never even deal with this situation again. All doors closed, nailed shut, no light escaping, just complete and total blackness and that fucking silence. Well, that's my world right now. I want to scream and rage until I can never speak a word again. Cry until there will never ever be another tear available to me. I want to pound my head against the wall until I'm bleeding and full of something other than emptiness. I want to take back everything and nothing. I want to drown in this misery that I caused myself. I want some clothes, because I feel so naked and exposed to everything that I held away from myself. I didn't move the earth and I never will and I no longer want to. I want to live in a swirly purple and black and silver world, dreaming of and for nothing. I want to self destruct so completely that there won't be a shard left to recognize me by, and I just want to disappear so no one remembers my name. I want to cry to friends and feel better, but I don't ever want to open up again. I want to rid my life of all the Broken Boy Soldiers, but I can't because I'm the biggest one. And who says I don't get personal on here? Maybe I don't have anything else to say or maybe I just don't have the strength to say anymore.
Life isn't pink castles and apple blossoms, and there isn't any disguising that fact. Pretty things die in my presence and I've learned to accept that. I bought some pretty purple flowers at a farmer's market. The woman at the stand said what solid flowers they were and that they would last a minimum of 2 weeks. They're dead. I took a nap and I woke up and they were dead. I laughed, because I wasn't surprised. I looked up the flowers online to see if they were really sturdy and sure enough, the woman wasn't lying. It just goes to prove. But sometimes you want the pink castle and the Cinderella ending instead of the the Cinderella beginning. But in reality the girl doesn't go to the ball and never even sees the glass slipper. Sometimes even the daydreams are nothing more than jagged pieces of metal that slice and tear. People have always called me, some sarcastically, some not, a princess.... but I know so much better. I don't stand up to the complimentary things anymore, I've lost the ability to be that person. I remember the old days when I was oblivious to anything but my own world, my wants, my music, my control.... I want those back, but there is a price to be paid to get that back. it's not something as simple as drugs, it's a complete disassociation with the light and a total embrace of the black I used to cradle and love. I miss it and need it back. Maybe that's who I always was and the good was as fake as my hair color. I don't know, but I get the feeling I'm going to find out.
I'm so good at walking the self destruction line. I know where the edge is and I know where not to step. Now, I look at that line and think.... "That's the only thing I haven't fucked up, I've never crossed that line.". Maybe that's the wrong turn I talked about forever ago. I never pushed myself so far I couldn't get back. I think I did this time and this might be just what I needed. Or not. I'm not on some stupid suicidal mission, but I'm curious what's on the other side of the self destruction line. I never was before.

I was going to pimp some great music I've been listening to, but this isn't the time. Next time, I swear.