Friday, January 3, 2014

Helplessly , Ineffective

 Helpless. This word pretty much sums up, how I've been feeling the last month to now. Right now that's all I can feel, like I'm this small little girl that can't even handle her own demons - that look like child's play compared to some - but wants to help everyone else.
If you couldn't tell by now, I'm in a web of emotions I can't handle. I usually write poems when I feel like this, but I'm not in the mood to tangle my emotions in metaphors.

I can't pick up everyone who's hurt and just hug and hold them until their pain dissipates.

The ones who are going through so much pain, feeling so unloved dealing suffering with depression, anorexia, bipolar-ism, anxiety and all the other mental distress. They're forced to live go through the notions with society - If they're still a minor, by law and can't skip school - being looked as an outcast,emo, loser, and just that kid , who everyone either stear clears from because :

 " That kid has issues, did you know he cuts himself" said by annoying peppy,judgemental, yet popular girl.
 " He does?" looks warily in disgust at the emo ," Ew. He's probably another one of those attention - seekers. Don't look at him, let's get away from people like that"

Or they talk about the kid, and make jokes of his problems :

" His Dad, died in a car-wreck last week, and he's forced to live with his b**chy aunt." The girl cups her hand around the 'popular boys' ear.
" So what, faggot. Grow some balls, my mom and dad died when I was three. But you don't see me making myself bleed. " The 'popular' guys say his words slashing throught the  emo's  heart. Then to top it all off he spits on him.

Maybe their aren't people THAT cruel, wait no their are moronic teenagers like that now-a-days. And that hurts.

Then there's me, and  - since I'm one in a billion and theirs 7 billion people in the world - 700 thousand people who feel like me. Who want to help them, to hold their hands and reassure them that their is life beyond this damn tunnel.

But if I'm going to make a post like this, truly tackling my emotions.
I'm definetly not a Saint.

I made fun of him, and I called he names like : phycho , and he should go back to Juvy.
 I was that girl, but then I started to recognize something different about him, when I was forced to by school circumstances  God to sit acrosss from him. I realized that their was something deeper about him, that he wasn't some weird Emo who draws evil.
I realize he was just a boy, a boy in pain crying out for help.
Now, him's my friend, Now I love him as the amazing person him is. Now, I encourage him not to loose sight, to not give up. Not to leave me. But, he still doesn't know how important him is. He doesn't know why he should really live, and he's just not seeing. And no matter what I say, and what I don't I can't take his demons away. Because I'm a 13 year old girl.

I just realised that he isn't the crazy guy from school who gives everyone a death-stare, who was put in juvy for beating the shiz out of someone. That he's not the jerk who called me all those name countless of times.
Well, he's some of those things.
I don't know him well,
so why should I pass judgement?

He is facing his own demons, that talk shit, and whisper just SHIT about him not people important. That encourage him to just give up on life, no one would care. No one would notice. But he doesn't know, that someone does. Maybe genuinely it's not me ( And my readers all groan and whisper B----) because I don't know him. But there's someone out there who does care.

Who is there.

I want to be there.

I need to be there.

Alot of you may not be religios but I am. I'm a wishy-washy Christian who feels like I failed God so much, that he's not looking at me . . . But that's another post, for another day.
I feel as if God presented him infront of me, to make a difference in his life. I'm not saying I'm just soo important. I'm saying I KNOW, God wants me to help him. I know I want to help him, but I find myself at loss of words so many times.

I can't even begin on the countless thought I've had
of me discovering him's dead. 
Discovering I wasn't good enough
That I failed him.
do it.


Christians have the knowledge of God and his miricales.
Writers have a way with words, a way to silence a 
room with some well chosen letter strewed into words 
constructing inspiring speeches.

But, I don't know how to use those skills for good majority of the time.
Because I'm helpess, I'm too small.
I can't handle things, I've never been able to.
I scream, I cry, I get narly headaches, and feel like I need to pukke ( Right Now) when
I feel to much. Because I can't deal.

I'm helpless.


Then, I went online to looks at quotes of helplessness, and they all had something to do with people being to lazy to get up and act.
I am acting, I am doing things their just not big enought,
their not curing the pain I hear in 
him's voice.
There not making things better, that's where I feel like i

In many situations I feel like my words are being ineffectively, inadequate to help. But I'm going to keep trying.

- Ony

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