The scattered remain, the rest is missing.

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There’s this red censoring flag in my mind blurring out all thoughts I’ve been needing to put into perspective. I can’t get a hold of things in the middle of this despair, hunger, lust, desperation and guilt. What am I doing? What am I thinking? This isn’t me. What is me? 

Images flash in my mind. The past, the present… the future. My mind is on ecstasy; everything is just nice to touch, to hear, to taste. And yet there’s nothing to satisfy those senseless needs. I don’t have an elevated sense of touch, taste nor hearing. Just an elevated sense of hunger, need, lust, pride. Everything is moving so fast with a regular pulse and I’m just stuck trying to fight for air.

My imagination is running a marathon with the stamina only athletes wish could achieve. I just want it to stop.

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Why does everything happen with the taste of liquid courage in your mouth, and the strong bass line pushing your heart to urge, to move? With a hazy veil clouding my memory that’s getting more and more opaque as time ticks days away, I’m left with echoes and colors. Words I’ve saved and smiles I’ve kept slowly lose their meaning and leave me wondering about what I’m doing to myself. I feel like I’m a timebomb waiting to explode, slowly lurring in preys to take down with me. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I’ll admit, the first thing I’m trying to do is to save my own ass. Save it from the embarrassment, from the fall, from the nothing that will come out of this.  

What a stupid little girl. What a stupid little girl. What a stupid little girl. 

I’m unsure of where I stand, yet this new search for thrill and the unknown has got me wandering in places I never would’ve stepped foot in a week ago. It’s all part of a game. We are creatures with the skill to think, and thinking has gotten my in deep seas with hurricanes and whirlpools. As the clouds rush in to drop massive amounts of rain and gray fills my whole sight, I’m lying here, wishing for that green dot to appear. For a smile. For an acknowledgment. I’m not supposed to be like this, because I’m one out of many, in a far more distant place. It’s been awhile since I’ve played with someone who knew the game better than I did, with more grace and tact than everyone else I’ve played with. All my bluffs are being called and my pokerface is not working. I need bigger shades to hide these longing eyes and a veil to hide my blushing cheeks and shy smile. All my cards are low but everything on the table makes me feel like I might have a shot of winning this round. 

What am I playing for? I don’t need the money. My pot is running out. The gamble… the gamble. The thrill of knowing I’ll get it next round and the one after that. The pride in saying I beat all of them. But with these low cards? 

Then my mind flashes to video games I’d play when I was younger. On how my victory was well played out and planned by my father who only wanted me to win for confidence and for fair play…

This is not fair play! Who am I in this game with anyway? The guilt and secrecy of my vice has led me to speak of this to no one while the growing bubbling need for victory is consuming me more and more by the hour. The regret of knowing I would’ve had higher chances of winning and scoring if I had jumped on the wagon earlier is killing me. But knowing that a career out of this is not even thinkable and just takes me down three steps behind just when I’ve gotten over the fear of the first one. This is a never ending cycle that only time will end. 

As time ticks closeness away and distances me more and more, it is my only ally now. The only one who can bring me back to my senses. I try to kid myself into thinking that everything happens for a reason and that this is all the result of my doings. If I had handled it differently I would probably be standing from a different chair right now.

But I’m not. And I’ve got to deal with this like a big girl. Like the same nonchalant and intriguing girl you wanted to take home the last time but didn’t let you. The one you asked for a kiss. Because that what lurred you in, in the first place. Now as seconds pass and the green dot is nowhere to be found, I’m sitting here hoping that the other ones are as worthy as I am. Because I know your game and I’m on to you. I wouldn’t have played your game any differently if I was in your shoes. It’s just that it’s been a while that I’ve been on the receiving end and I’ve forgotten how shitty it was.