It’s an odd kind of chaotic control that takes place when you’re the one orchestrating your own destruction. You know what makes yourself tick better than anyone and what can hurt you the absolute most. The side of you that’s set on self-destruction has no hesitation with pressing those buttons until you both fall to your eventual defeat. The life you worked so hard to build up around you comes crumbling down, one piece at a time, at the will of whatever is exploding inside of you.
Once you activate the trigger to that bomb, there is no stopping it. The only thing the slightly stable part of yourself can do is wait patiently for the ground to collapse beneath your feet and suck you in. But it starts out slowly…
I begun to spiral. I didn’t notice at first because I was beginning to enjoy the ride down to rock bottom a little more than I probably should’ve. I had too much respect for my loved ones to let them know that I was killing myself slowly in my vices. So I continued to spiral until I dismantled every piece of myself and the life that I was running from.
I found my broken self somewhere in purgatory; stuck in the in between, unsure if I should keep tumbling downwards or fight my way back up.
So I tumbled until there was no where left to go.
A letter from myself in Purgatory:
Please never forget what it feels like to spiral out of control; to lose the firm grip you once had on your soul. Never forget the chilling heat of the devils breathe on the back of your neck as he began to pull you under into Purgatory. Don’t lose touch with the numbness you felt in the hollow pit of your chest and how it could only be filled by that metallic stench when you would slice your flesh.
Though this has passed, remember this feeling.
I’m spiraling. I’m spinning. I’m losing hold of my mind. The f*cks I used to give have been swallowed by the tornado forming on the soles of my feet, waiting to suck the rest of me in. There’s nowhere to go when the speed controls my toes. So I smoke weed, snort coke, pop addies, shoot and toke.
There’s a happiness found at rock bottom. Your soul can exist is the rawness of its essence, the griminess of its reality, and the eternity of your damned spirit. Succumb to the will of the tornado on the soles of your feet. Allow the flames of hell to lick your cheeks, and welcome the warmth of the demonic embrace.
My love, take passion in your vices, but do not allow them to define you. Fixate your mind on simple immediate pleasures and enjoy every minute of your time trekking through the bottom of your soul. Once you’ve left, don’t miss it for long. Before you catch your breathe, a tornado will form again on the soles of your feet and suck you down once more.
I survived my self destruction. Watching me tear myself limb from limb, physically, mentally, and spiritually was one of the most painfully liberating experiences I’ve ever had the pleasure of falling into.
My life ended in a tragic explosion that I felt I had no control over. But my life was recreated in the image of everything I’ve ever wanted it to be.
And, I survived.
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