Tulip's Tales

I said too much. Always do.

Sitting in the middle watching all around me, I see so much I don't like.

That was the way it was.

The way it is may be the way it seemed long ago but it is the way of the future as well.

Circle of life, circle of something.

Need to be part of a group, but which to choose.

Guidelines come in many forms.

Craving the unattainable.

Is that the way it is?

Tasting the forbidden.

Live.

Falsehoods anger.

Sharing it all.

Read the meaning

in my



eyes

food
love
family
money
mas
aspirin
computer
mushroom soup
'za toppings
me
crack
break
fallingscaredcan'tagainlight
voiceyou
strength
fear
loud
louder
loudest
small
dopeyshovelingcrunch


addict

Why are you here? Why do you put up with this shit? Do you like it? You must. You like being hit and called names. Otherwise why would you be here?

You're stupid. I can't believe I'm still wasting my time with you. You're lucky I keep you around. Where do you think you'd be without me? Probably on the streets pulling tricks to feed your habit.

Are those tears in your eyes? Getting a little sad? I can make you really cry if you don't shut up. You don't like being smacked around? Then SHUT the fuck UP! How hard is that to figure out? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Waste of skin. Why don't you just kill yourself. That would make it a lot easier for everyone. Or leave. Just get out of my face before I smash it.

Don't. Talk. Back.

Your perception is your reality. Fuck off. No one has any idea what this reality is like.

This is everything and nothing, but more like nothing than anything. There is no hope, nothing left to do or say, nothing worth anything. Why continue? To have things wrecked and damaged even further? To hurt forever.

I have no control over anything - fucking life happens whether I'm here or not.

Here or not? I do control that.

Driving seemingly aimlessly around. Stop go stop go stop go. Appear normal. Crying, driving, talking, writing. Want to tell the young man at internet place how much of an impact talking to him had for me. More guilt remembering my babies; things forever missed.

The nothing and everything overwhelms my senses with memories and thoughts and feelings. I can't get everything out and not in any order just a bunch of rambling and babbling. Will anyone know what this is really like? After rage and broken hearts will the realisation come?

Prolonging the inevitable or truly wanting and needing to communicate that which will be forever silenced? Heading out knowing somewhere but not exact. Stop again, why water is any one's guess.

Nicotine, something from long ago. That other time. Nine years. Head again fucked up or just stolen innocence. Robbed.

There is no need to settle anything and I have no fear. It starts and then it ends. Between, things happen based on where you are and when, that's all. Created to be whatever someone else wants and serve needs. No longer.

Sitting staring at the trees. A few more words, forever love, sorry so sorry. Turn. Hiss. Cool.

Intense pain. My head is clouded. My eyes can see only pin pricks of life. My heart is going to implode. I cannot get my breath, there are weights in my lungs, I gasp over and over in the hopes that each will be the last but the rise and fall of my chest tells me it's not over. Carrying on and on and on. Bouncing from one edge to another, back and forth like a ball in a pinball machine. Ringing off bumpers then smashing into walls, being thrown around. Grasping at family and friends in an attempt to stabilize myself. Dragging them along without their consent.

So many relationships forever damaged through my fucked up head. Relationships that can't be mended. Actions that can never be taken back. Words that hurt far more than any slap. No one will ever forgive. When things get better no one is sure if it really is or if it's another mask. An illusion played so reality is unknown.

I crawl out of the shell, shedding it like a prosthetic skin. Discomfort. I am crippled and incapacitated, withered and grey, fingers twisted into tight balls and toes curled tightly under. Chin on chest, eyes cast downward. Withdrawn, incompetent, unable to function, bound by straps, no movement, useless. If that could be seen, would others feel differently? Would the monster be disregarded as a side effect?

No one knows me, thoughts; I don't know me. Good constantly shadowed by a fear of going back. Things done - really me or blame my head and lack of or too much of whatever? Choices made - were they mine? Use them as a crutch or live with constant guilt and loathing? Without excuse, none should have happened. I should have stopped and started and shut down but carried on.

Has it been three minutes? My head spins and I count. Click send. One, two, three. Deep breaths. Four, five, turn it up. Noisy, still conscious to hear. Why? This was supposed to be fool proof. Fuck fuck fuck fuck ... not again. Didn't do enough research?

Is there some deity intervening; are angels hovering? Perhaps. The noise is subsiding. I feel blackness settle throughout my body, the pot boiling rapidly, emotions thoughts feelings nothing.

Ripped from the womb into blinding light, unceremoniously slapped on the behind, take the first tentative breath and release a cry to announce arrival. Lying spent, inflicting abuse on my loves, here.

Be thankful. Fuck off. Anger and rage streaming through my blood. Helped back into my spot while flailing and having a tantrum. No miracles, just simple physics. Needed to concentrate to lungs.

Rational. There is nothing to do. No one cares.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Twinkle twinkle little star
How I wonder what you are
Up above the world so high
Like a diamond in the sky
Twinkle twinkle little star
How I wonder what you are

What's another one? How many have I sung in my head? I count the songs with my fingers as I sing, then put a scratch on the wall for each time I reach ten. Upon checking, I feel three groups of five scratches, which ten equals one hundred fifty. Will it be time soon? Will I finally get something, anything to soothe my throat. My throat feels sealed shut; I'm not sure anything could get past my swollen tongue anyway. Saliva has long since left my mouth; the moisture needed in other areas of my body in need of hydration.

Little Jack Horner
sat in a corner
eating his christmas or was it pudding no ch...

Losing my focus, I feel around once again, hoping against hoping and wishing with all my might that I will find a crack or crevice or something that will let me see how to get out. I listen closely as my hands move over the wall, but am still startled when I hear the familiar bump of someone starting to open the door.

Something to drink, finally!

I close my eyes to avoid the punishment of the glaringly bright light and move myself up against the back wall in anticipation of the box being roughly pushed into my legs. The box that is my lifeline. The box that has provided my sustenance. However, while I can see the light through my closed eyelids, nothing happens. No box, no noise, nothing.

I wait. No sound. Nothing but the light so strong I feel heat on my face. I open my eyes and the door quickly slams shut.

I startle awake, having just had the worst nightmare ever. Being kidnapped and ... oh my god. It's isn't a nightmare; it is here and now. My eyes are open but I can't see anything. It smells damp and dirty. I give a quick intake of breath as something crawls across my hand and pull my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them in an attempt to make myself as small as possible.

I turn toward a scraping noise on my left, having no idea what to expect. Suddenly I am flooded in bright light and something bumps into my knees. As quickly as it came, the darkness is back, enveloping me in silence.

I reach out and touch what feels like a cardboard box. Further examination and smell reveal some sort of food, although I'm not sure what. I reach in and feel a glass .. water I hope, but as I bring it closer to my nose I realize it is milk, slightly sour milk.

Why am I here and what is this place? Where is this place? What time is it? I have to pee. I'm so dumb! Why did I go so close to the van? Why didn't I kick harder or scream louder? Because my face was being ground into the mud and dirt on the carpet, while he punched me repeatedly. He said he would kill me if I so much as opened my eyes. I kept them shut tight. Why didn't I just pause and turn toward my car instead of allowing him to lead me by the elbow? Why didn't I try to flee sooner?

Have you felt fear? Have you experienced that bone chilling moment when you know that you screwed up? When your stomach crawls up into your throat and all the hairs on your body raise as you frantically begin to try to figure a way out of the situation?

When I was about 10, I was at a little country fair with my grandparents. There was a midway and livestock area, as well as the ladies' events of baked goods and homemade items. I was given a few dollars to spend on the midway. I found this ride that went around but didn't go off the ground - the cars sort of swooped toward each other and looked like they would cross, when in fact they safely passed and the ride continued on. The scruffy man who operated the ride let me have extra turns. After a few times, he told me not to worry about tickets. It was kind of weird but who cared? My grandma was in the fair part, trying to win prizes with her jams and pies and doughnuts, my grampa was checking out the tractors, and I had a lot of time to kill with not a lot of money. After a few more turns, the man said the ride needed a break and he put a closed sign on the gate. As I turned away, he called me to come over to him. He asked if I liked the free rides - oh, yes very much! He said nothing in life is free and could I pay him back? The way he looked at me started a feeling in my stomach; a sick bubbling feeling that started slowly oozing its way up my esophagus. I asked if he wanted to go see my grandma's stuff and then maybe I could get some money from her, but he grabbed my hand and said he just wanted me to go over there with him for a bit. I had no idea where over there was but I knew I shouldn't even start to go there; I had a flash of what could happen if I went with him. In a moment of flight or fight, I pulled him toward the arena door, loudly announcing all the things we would see inside. I eventually found my grandma, introduced the 'nice ride man' and sat down firmly beside her. I did not leave her side the remainder of the day. I didn't get raped or assaulted or killed. Survival of the smartest or luck that I was in a common area and had opportunity to get help? One will never know.

I survived that, I can survive this, but what is this? After dragging me into the van, throwing me down and kneeling on me to get across to the driver's seat, bashing and threatening me into submission, he drove around. He eventually settled down and quit hitting and swearing at me, but he never took his meaty hand off the back of my neck, asserting himself over me.

I had always thought of myself as cocky and never worried about a situation like this. I felt I would just lose my freakin' mind, come unglued and freak out on the whoever tried anything with me and that I would win. How stupid I had been.

He stopped at a fast food place, telling me to move further into the back and that if I made any dumb moves, he would kill me. He showed me a hunting knife he had in his boot and something in his tone made me know he wouldn't hesitate to use it.

When we eventually arrived at our destination, it was dark outside. He put the keys in his pocket and twisted his girth around in the seat, and told me to sit up toward the back of the van. I did so and was rewarded with my wrists, eyes and mouth being bound with duct tape. He roughly pushed me out of the van and hooked his hand up through my arm and into the hair at the back of my neck. We walked down a few steps before I heard open a door and he directed me through. I heard another door open and felt myself being led down creaky steps. It smelled damp and almost as fetid as the man. I heard him fumble with something, maybe a lock or latch, and then I was pushed and fell to the ground.

The night is cold and the wind is blowing hard through the trees.