Bound by Fear

At school today my religion class was taking notes on 'Difficult Teachings' in Catholicism. Alike to almost every one of those classes, we got severely off track to the point where I cannot even remember how the conversation strayed so quickly (yet I presume one of the main factors is that the class itself is mildly uninteresting).

Suddenly this kid (who will remain anonymous considering how badly I despise him after him getting me into detention three times) asked a question revolving emotions and which ones were the strongest.

Everyone (glad and desperate to keep the slightly-more-interesting-conversation alive) starts saying generic things including love, happiness, rainbows, candy, blah blah blah. After hearing enough, I decide to raise my hand, 'fear'. I say.

The pick-me-girl of the class laughs in her shallow, stuck-up way, and the teacher rolls her eyes but asks me to continue.

Me, most likely having said more words in that class than I ever have before, shakes my head.

Of course no one believes me as usually the sadder emotions and people depicted as silent, sad, anti-social, or depressed, get pushed to the bottom.

Anyways, our ever-distracted class somehow branched into conversations revolving horror movies. I continue to read my book and half-heartedly listen to the conversation while thinking my own thoughts (I'm just saying that neither the conversation nor the book was intellectually difficult).

Now I must make a confession: I am not an Empath. I have trouble feeling what other people feel and my levels of sympathy are close to zero. I try I really do, but I just lose interest in things, it's like life is compared to watching grass grow.

But sometimes the only feelings that I do have are feelings that I want, that is the origin of why I said fear was one of the strongest emotions, it's because I want it to be true.

Why? You might ask. Why would I want to be scared?

Well my answer is short, simple, and easy: In a world or black and white, I'll take any other colour I can. you know, just to spice things up a bit.

Getting scared is fun sometimes, it has its own unique and special thrill.

My mind may seem narrow, but my imagination is infinite. I can create stories conflicting ghosts and monsters, theories that I repeat to myself to make them true, and then tell them to others to convince myself better of it.

But the best part is: it works.

Now I get to look underneath my bed, in the closet, behind my shelf, and it all feels real.

I watch horror movies as well (Those that aren't boring and completely stupid where the main character runs into the scary cave, runs up the stairs instead of outside the house, or pelted with much plot amour that you know there is nothing to be afraid of- trust me, you'll know what I'm talking about if you watch 78% of 'horror' themed movies).

One thing to know about me is that I am very gullible to my own lies. If I tell myself that there are cameras in my room, then I'll believe it. You may think that it is dumb, but the mind can go to many different areas-some partially scary-if it wants to.

One day I came across this thing on the vast internet saying that if you can touch your finger on the other side of your mirror, then it is a good quality mirror, but also a one-sided one. If there is a space in between you and your finger's reflection, then it is two-sided. Of course even though I'm saying that I don't believe it, I still like that thrill. I particularly enjoyed the thrill when I discovered that I indeed did have a space in between my mirror.

A couple of months ago I was a partial lucid dreamer. I never fully graduated because I couldn't. I was self-taught and therefore screwed up on the order in learning the skill. Instead of starting with the 'dream' part, I started with the 'lucid' part, only increasing the number of nightmares imposed on me, only this time I had no escape. There were vivid creatures flying at me, humiliating me, taking everything that I loved and tearing it to shreds in front of my eyes as if they were just wisps of paper.

I want revenge on the monsters that broke both everything that I was attached to, and myself along with it. It was an instinct that fired up inside of me for a twisted, sick kind of satisfaction that I daresay never ends well or how it is intended.

I learned something before I left though. I learned that if you don't want to feel sadness, retreat yourself. Stop feeling at all.

Therefore though all that, I gave myself several rules which I now stick to like a religion:

Rule #1. Conceal emotions. They don't care. Every single shade of anger can be concealed, hidden away, and forgotten. Just make sure you don't fail or everything will come tumbling down.

-However in a note to that, doing it too much causes one to lose themselves, pieces of them leave until one day all they are is a walking corpse with no emotion. Someday even that corpse will lie and sleep forever.

Rule #2. Stop caring about what they say.

-If they bother you, so what? People are to sucked on their own world, their own insecurities, who likes them, that they couldn't care less about what you do. They only do that to boost themselves and even though it usually works, no one is going to change how they see you. It's not like they'll actually ever see you for who you are though, they see you for who they want to.

Rule #3. There's no end in this life.

-This rule basically sums up both the previous two rules, and every other one in the history of the universe. I mean, in truth, only the prophet Elijah from the Bible ever got out of this world alive, the rest of us won't. Be happy with that, be okay with it. Live how you want to and don't let them all dictate what you want to be.

Before I go, I'd like to warn you of one thing that can either make or break everything: Don't go down any of these roads unless if you are utterly confident you won't back down. Because once you're gone, there's no telling when, how, or if you'll be back.

For the lack of people that will read what has been going on in my mind, so long.

~Ataraxia