Internet journal

to start with, this blog / logs will NOT be strictly about mental illness or the system experience, its about love & between the humane experience

my name is lacey nico bit, i am as of now a young adult in collage, i am a alter in a system, its believed that i was split to keep a status qou when really young and often trigger a lot of our ptsd

putting besides how much of our identity we cant help, or cant change, or need, seeing yourself so intimately and deeply in someone so.. awfully disgusting dreading the sound of your own voice alike youre about to be attacked or belittled

what about seeing someone in yourself?

youre only comforted by what they like, you believe that what they say has mirror what you believe, youre in a situation a standstill, its horrible to hear, it hurts to say those things but they say them like it wont stop them from sleeping, will i hurt others this bad if i keep hurting myself?, staying ignorant dosent feel blissful for the mold could never be fit of the girl i though would be the most loved, much less of the executioner holding the axe

they subscribed to the idea that a person could be a monster, alongside homophobic remarks of love; one could become a monster if theyre too disliked, the idea gets lost in intents and foggy memories, alas weve learnt to own most of the unsavory parts of ourselfs

however, what about love?

would i ever seek to be a monster actively? never again. the point is to not mind such remarks, that no matter that everyone deserves a space to rest and be safe with a social group

its odd seeing how much hurt they have caused, and only being a sort of mirror, i didint get to talk to my little brother for a long time because of someone elses fear that id crush him in what id think is a loving hug

i didint even do anything; i only did what i though was right

toughlove would make us stronger, right?, being opportunist would lead us to the best prizes, and working our hardest to the highest praise

im still a ruthless asshole, and love cannot fix a person, but habits change people are supposed to grow, only nurture and care can soften up a person, and if theyd rather run thier head onto a wall smashing into shards, to be mean is to self destruct

do not put your hands in the fire for someone who wants to burn

we all would love to help those weve grown close to through tough situations of negativity, sharing troubles dosent have to be sharing the weight though and even if you did; its still weight i know id fight any fight if a loved one asked however it might be different, i will bare my teeth and let out the aggressions i have nothing else to maul for, the inhumane need to hunt to stay alive that chases us even when trying to be the bigger person, to intimidate a bully all for the sake of our loved ones comfort though, you dont need to bleed to offer another a soft hug (and if you did, would they clean up that blood? would they put bandages of you alike a brother, would it be a lover to still kiss broken lips?, or would you spit out teerh & bleed out?)

love cannot fix a person, if i hadnt softened up i woulent had seen that love is everywhere though that its the mere fabric of our universe, that we need to embrace even what we dont understand or know, another wont redeem you, all they can do is hold you like porcelain and that was enough to change my mind about who should live or die

kindness overruled

to share how to go forward, i wasnt a good person, i wasnt a good son or a good brother at all, this is not my second chance but it was my call to action, (look nobody needs to forgive anybody but the least you have to do is accept help when its actually coming and not just to seem like a good guy infront of others) i only did what i though was right i was full of hate and anxiety, i only wanted us to be able to survive but it wasent need but, but but how about doing what we enjoy, do we just make eachother angry just to feel something? how about remembering what tears of joy feel like, what about seeing eye to eye in a literal sense

its a different kind of devotion, when you know you mightve as well rather had been isolated; that you disliked being alive as it comes, but that now; you like living you love the sky for the wind and you embrace the earth for the sweet fruit that grows on trees and the love of the sunshine, and still youd rather have it all end

than to fold over surrender your beliefs, your wisdom, and accept a life without those hands that held you like porcelain

love is asking to pray to a god you dont believe in