WoM- Did everyone miss me? 'laughing' While I have everyone's attention, I was wondering if you guys wanted me to start updating this fic randomly, and maybe up another story up to update reguarly on Sundays instead. (I've got a few on my profile,) It's totally up to you guys, and I promise I won't abandon my poetry. Speaking of which...
Create
Why put my feelings on the chance
When I choose to love or hate
I won't be like that, screw romance
Why leave my life to fate?
You know how people are always saying how dangerous addictions are? How they ruin people and steal lives and all that stuff? That was always something I agreed with, something I would mock other people for getting involved with, always promising myself that I would never be like that. Like my friends since middle school who ruined themselves with their drug addictions, or my alcoholic father who was drunk every night he stumbled back into the house.
I'd always hate them for being so weak as to allow something that couldn't even think for itself to control them. It disgusted me to see them desperate for their next hit, and I just couldn't understand why someone would allow themselves to become like that. When I asked my mom about it one day, she gave me an answer that haunts me to this day.
"Sometimes, there are things about yourself you just have no control over," She told me with a sigh. "Even when you know it's bad for you, and that you should stop… some people keep on going on with their addictions because it makes them feel better about themselves. It gives them a joy nothing else in the world can bring, and by the time they're in too deep, it's too late to turn back,"
I rolled my eyes at that answer and scoffed before turning and walking away, still refusing to cut anyone any slack. As far as I saw it, it was all their fault. They should've taken better care of themselves.
Then I came down with my own addiction, and suddenly I understood what my mom meant.
I've got the talent, that I now know
And I just can't force myself to wait
I've paid my dues, both high and low
Though some were just way too late
I wasn't hooked to drugs or alcohol, though. Actually, I've never even called it an addiction out loud, because I knew how absolutely stupid that it would sound to people who didn't know what I was talking about, like being addicted to drugs used to sound stupid to me. Still, that's the only way I can describe it.
Even now, I can't stop myself, I can't control it. And every time I try, I feel like I'm murdering myself slowly on the inside. I hate feeling so dependent on anything else, I hate not being able to control these emotions, this amazing charge I get, but at the same time, I love it. Because I know that this feeling is mine and mine alone, and unlike people who need outside things to get them to feel good about themselves, I've got something right here inside of me that does the job even better.
When I first realized what I felt and what was happening to me, I tried to reason it all off. It made me feel good, and it never hurt anyone else, why should I stop? I never had to admit to other people how I felt, and when they actually praised me for what had going on for me, it made it even better. Suddenly, I was a Queen, completely untouchable by anyone else. That was the Deep End for me. That was when it became too late to turn back…
No one can ruin what I've got
Can't kill this thirst I cannot sate
No one can't chill a flame so hot
Or stop a high that feels this great
After that, my whole life circled around my addiction. School didn't matter to me anymore, friends and family obligations all faded. All that was there was me and this intense, passionate feeling that made me feel so alive.
That was probably both the best and worse time of my life. It felt like I was alone, and my home life was one constant screaming match after another, but at the same time, I could channel all that into my passion and get me through anything. It made me better then them, stronger then them, and I still wasn't hurting anyone but myself with it.
I mean, so what if my grades slipped a little? It didn't matter to me, I was never college material anyways, especially not after I figured out what I really wanted to do with my life. Who cares If my old man thought I was wasting my life? It was a better way to waste it then with one booze after another, right?
It didn't hurt anybody, that's what I kept telling myself. And other then my grades and the fighting, it didn't even hurt me. It was a harmless addiction, completely innocent. I had absolutely nothing to worry about, right?
That's when I met Addiction's 'beloved' cousin, Obsession.
Because I love to play this game
Even if I can't win checkmate
It gives me freedom, gives me fame
When I've nothing else to await
He seemed so harmless at first. Nothing about him would've suggested he was dangerous, from his looks to the way he'd stare at my feet instead of my eyes when he stammered while trying to talk to me. It was actually kind of flattering.
So, I decided there was no danger in talking to him, in letting him buy me drinks or compliment me in his own, breathless way. I've always been something of an attention hog, so I lapped it all up, never really serious when I'd flirt back. After all, I'd decided a long time ago my Addiction would be my first and last love. No man would ever be able to make me as happy…
I never saw any of the signs, and it was stupid of me to miss them, to keep up what I thought of as a string of endless pity-dates. I always figured it worked out best for both of us that way. If he thought of himself as my boyfriend, he'd keep all the other jerks off of me so I could get some peace, and he was certainly happier after we'd been 'dating' for a while, anyone with eyes could see that.
Then he proposed to me.
'Shocked' was probably about as huge an understatement as you can make about how I felt when he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. I said no right off the bat. Like I said before, I didn't love him. If anything, I saw him just a friend, and the guy I'd kiss from time to time. Not to mention the fact that I was only seventeen. I mean, NOBODY gets married at seventeen anymore!
Anyways, that kind of made me realize how serious he was about me, and I decided to cut it off before he got hurt anymore. I couldn't make myself fall in love with him, especially when my heart and soul belonged purely to my passion, and I figured that breaking it off meant he could find the perfect girl to settle down with if that was really what he wanted so badly.
I didn't know who he was looking for, but I did know that even if he saw her in me, I wasn't able to commit myself to time, not then and not ever. It made perfect sense that breaking up was the best thing for us to do.
Unfortunately, he didn't see it that way. That night, he came in during my job with a gun, He shot and killed three people before committing suicide, me among them.
When I woke up in the Ghost Zone, I was scare, pissed off and empty all at once. It took me a while to come to terms with what had happened to me, and when I did, it only made me angrier. I felt like I'd been cheated, cut down when I still had so much I wanted to do, and just because some punk was too weak to move on and see what I already knew.
Those days were Hell for me, one nothing after another, a constant agony of loss and pain. I wanted so badly to die, even though I was already dead, then I wanted to know why hadn't moved on. Hell would've been better then that nothingness in my opinion.
That's when my afterlife was saved by the half-ghost known as Plasmius, when he re-introduced me to my addiction. It was then that it hit me that that was why I was still here. I wasn't ready to leave this world just yet, to go anywhere without the very thing that defined my soul.
That's when I was reborn, with a new purpose and my old addiction.
So go on and scoff and criticize
What's behind my soul's iron gate
Through all the empty dreams and lies
I'll still remain here to create…
A lot of people don't understand me, either because they can't or won't. Those that won't I could care less about, but those who can't…
Well, all I can say is that a part of me hopes it stays that way for ya. After all, my addiction is both my blessing and my curse, and I'm not sure if everyone's willing to give up what I have all for one purpose, for one love that was too great to ignore.
Because I know that's what it is for me. My addiction, my love, my sole being, it all rests with my music, which the power inside of me I can't begin to understand that lets me make a song out of everything and nothing. Even when my guitars, (given to me by Plasmius) break in half, my music cannot, will not die.
So yeah, I know it probably sounds weird or stupid or creepy to you, but honestly I can't say I care. Because it's how I feel and if you can't understand that, that's your problem.
So yeah, I'll admit it; I'm Ember McLain and I'm addicted to my music, tomy ability to create…
WoM- There you go! This is for IwuvMyKenshyPoo, who wanted me to do Ember again, and all of you out there who write, draw or otherwise express yourself through art. It really is an addiction, ne?
Thanks to;
BlueMyst19
conan98002
IwuvMyKenshyPoo
Anne Camp aka Obi-quiet
Fey Phantom
misaoshiru
SummersSixEcho
wilted petal
Next Poem; January 29th
See you then!