I Cannot Run

I Cannot Run

A Stage Play by G.C. Seguin
"

I cannot hide.

"
I once was afraid of many things.
Spiders, bees, heights, monsters under the bed, ghosts, and even my mother who as a child, I believed was secretly an evil imposter from hell but now,
I don't see the reason to be afraid.
Spiders don't bite unless you disturb them, bees are the same, if I fall from a tall height then at least I have time to scream "NO HANDS!", monsters under the bed are highly unlikely (although seeing how far genetic experiments and research has gone, it could happen), ghosts are only merely figments of our imagination, and my mother was just hot headed.
I'm not even afraid of death.
People say that there is not one person on earth who isn't afraid of death but hon, you could say that I'm on Neptune right now enjoying a nice steaming cup of galactic acid.
If I die, so be it.
If I don't, then I wonder how many big bangs there'll be until I finally disappear from existence.
You see?
Death is inevitable and fearing it is pointless.
Since our brains are wired to force us to be afraid of certain things that could pose a threat to us, we tend to fear death in the hopes that one day we can defeat it.
It's impossible to defeat a concept.
Let's face it.
When was the last time you've heard of a scientist studying ways to make humans eternal?
Not once.
They've only talked about what would happen if humans were to live for an eternity and that is all that has happened and all that will.
So here I am rambling about eternal life, death, fears, etc and I still yet haven't explained why.

Because I'm an idiot.
I find life to be completely meaningless considering that the universe is so vast and without life nothing will really change other than the temperatures, looks, etc.
Small things that don't really matter that much.
The reason why I think this is because I like to think that life is meaningless.
Why?
Because if life is meaningless, then why do we still live it?
Why do we still care?
Because we love it.
We love every second of it and how I wish that I could love it too.
The only problem is,
I don't.
Now I may be sounding a lot like a babbling teenage train wreck who just needs a bit of therapy from her school counselor but I am not in love with life.
I hate a lot of it.
I hate things about it so much that I just wanna strangle it until there is no IT in it.
At the same time, I love a lot of it.
I love things about it so much that they make me feel nice and warm and comforted.
That is where the boundary is built.
I ask myself every day why I feel so much hatred and it's because I made me this way.

I wasn't raised by my parents.
I was raised by me.
Only me.
I decided on the person that I am.
I created her.
If my parents were to leave my life, it wouldn't have made any difference.
You see...
We are alone inside of our minds.
That is why we are individuals.
When someone hears voices inside their head or struggle with multiple personalities, that is not two people who live within them.
It is one who likes to argue with itself.

I argue with myself sometimes but I suppose we all do.
You may be wondering why I'm even talking about this and the reason is that there is something that most people would consider wrong growing within me.
I once watched as one of my friends suffered from the loss of his little sister and when I was ten years old, it killed him.
He used his suffering to end himself and I took the blame for it because I was an emotional wreck.
And then I matured.
Years later and I am better than I've ever been before and yet something is still eating away at me.
After he died, I clung to my dog who I felt was the closest thing I had.
When she died too, I had never felt so alone in my entire life.

I didn't want to dump it all on my friends because honestly, it's not their problem and they have problems of their own.
So I kept it to myself and let myself choke on the aftermath.
I did it all.
I still use the pain meds for when it gets too far.
Have you ever choked on water?
You know that feeling when the water gets in your nose and it goes down your windpipe?
That burning, tickling, and irritated sensation?
Let's just say that I purposefully put myself through a lot of that to ease the emotional pain and distract myself with real pain.
It worked for a little while.
And then I got tired of it and stopped and just faced my life the way I should've faced it from the beginning.
Don't get me wrong.
I want to continue living my life until I have fulfilled my goals and aspirations, then I would be okay with dying by being sniped in the middle of a gun fight but back then, my decisions were entirely based upon my emotional state.
I've taught myself how to use logic and ethical reasoning to bypass those consequences but I know that I won't be able to for very long.
So here's what I've been thinking for the pass few hours:

I feel like a monster.
I let people die.
I love the look of blood.
I hate looking at myself.
I hate the look of someone dying,
but I love the look of tragedy.
It's all scattered about in my head.
I can't seem to fix it.
My mind is dying.
My lungs feel as if they're ripping apart.
I sometimes forget to breathe all-together.

I hate it when people compliment me because I don't find it helpful and it's embarrassing,
Yes.
It's always me, myself, and I.
Isn't it?
Is that all?
Is it just me?
Thriving helplessly in a sinking ship.
Calling breathlessly in the ruins of thought and emotion.

That is what I am.
It's not beautiful.
So please don't look.
Please don't look at me.
I'm not worth the glance.
I seem so strong on the outside but in truth,
I am screaming quietly on the inside.
It's like I'm opening my mouth but the sounds won't pierce the air.
I despise it.

I despise myself.
But that's okay.
She hates me too.
It's been settled.
If I can just tolerate it.
If I can just live.

I wouldn't be so miserable.

There's this song that I liked when I was a kid.
A piece of the lyrics read,
"I cannot run. I cannot hide. I cannot see. I cannot find. I cannot move. I cannot leave you."
But I'm running.
I have nowhere to hide but I will run.
I am blind and I feel as if those pain meds have really knocked my nerves off-balance,
but I'm running.
I'm running from that monster that I thought was under the bed,
But is really inside me.

That's okay.
It's all okay.
I am perfectly okay.

© 2016 G.C. Seguin


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Added on August 6, 2016
Last Updated on August 6, 2016
Tags: depression, sad, emotional, meaningful, inspiring, devastating, thoughts, feelings, idk

Author

G.C. Seguin
G.C. Seguin

Essex, VT



About
My favorite books are mostly horror novels or novels with a lot of feeling and truth. I began writing in elementary school in a little journal and haven't stopped since. Every now and then, my poems a.. more..

Writing