Tag: actualybpd

Their Narrative (I)

(CW: Ableist Language/Slurs)

The disclosure’s taken a turn for the worst
People don’t see a declaration they see a curse
Or worse they lick their lips and see a chance
To express their neurosis guilt free at last!

Just imagine, accountability out the fucking window
You can let your empathy run at an all time low
If you feel anything, it takes sole priority
Cos your irrational supersedes any solidarity

And if they start to challenge that? Well it’s easy enough!
Just say they’re on a mad one; the stupid spasticated borderline cunt
And what if they catch wise and start to call you out on it?
Just call it abuse to your faux-victim mates on the LovedOnes Reddit

They can suppress it all they want, but it’ll never be enough
Not when you’re eyeing a free ride with your affinity bluff
With your coverted support peaking at a sorry looking glance
I can hear you now: “Ah the perks of retarded romance”

Sebastian Noël

Monster

I just wanted this to go like a theme park film roll
Snapshots of red cheeks, red berry slush in hand, golden rays dropping down
But then I had to go try putting you on the throne
Treating you like you got my six, not like the number 66, heading up Highwoods
For a picnic and walk under the canopies, oh please caress me under the trees
Take me for a meal, have me like mac and cheese, in front of the bees
Oh yes that’s how it were meant to be, but I started to think you my destiny
Oh that didn’t go down very well you see

Like cramming a cylinder in a square pocket
It started going wrong immediately
What do you mean you don’t fit in someone else shoes?
You mean to say not anyone can slide in comfortably?
Especially when your more Buttercup then Blossom
And your a stranger in Ballamory, but a local in Gotham

If only it stops right there
The reactive squirm after your nostrils hit that curdled milk
But when you tend to an open wound with another round of booze
I suddenly start to feel like I’m sharing the room with a Dybbuk

1 year, 2 year, 5 years isn’t enough apparently
To stop suspecting I’m on a receiving end of a coup
The moment you stop acting like a mirror I get suspect
“You’ll never trust anyone” you cried, and love, you might be right

I’ve role-played this night a million times
But I always play impostor with my feminine side
I think it could result in my Christabell
With an image of a poor young thing stuck in hell
I thought it might garner me some sympathy
Maybe people would start listening to me
Instead their disgust triggers my mania
All thanks to this cursed genitalia

But I’m seeing that I don’t deserve it, to be fair
Now when I’m on the receiving end of a terrified stare
Hand clutched to my phone, finding anyway to not be here any longer
I dunno how I’m looking to you guys, but to her I’m a clear monster
I’ve treated standing my ground like dropping an atom bomb
When a simple enquiry would’ve gotten the job done

Now it’s a matter of time till your gone
Till you’ve found a laid back yokel in Beeston
And when it’s 2024 and I’m down the community hall
With my new flame, who can take care of me no matter the fall
I’ll be pining for the low stake weekend away
Wild nights in the hostel restroom, by the end of the day
And when we stumble in two hours late for the poetry due
What’s the bet I’ll start getting them to wear your old shoes?

Sebastian Noël

FP

You’re
sick of hearing about it
I’m sick of thinking about it
Like a prefix, a disclaimer
Painting a context over everything
Everything I say, think or feel
Getting nostalgic doesn’t even feel good no more

I just
remember the plan; buzzwords spiking my drink
Being treated like an asset, an elixir, a cure
Like your pleasure, isn’t my pain
Like your familiar, isn’t my nightmare
So when people politely suggest to me, like Eureka
As if they’ve clocked on why the raven’s like the writing desk
That I just forget them, take my mind off ‘em, quick snap
Jesus Christ, as I jump out of my chair, Einstein walks among us!
But common sense and logic doesn’t have a stake in this conundrum
People gotta think I’m nursing a cocktail as the sun goes down
Time travelling to 2010 with comforting sigh
As if it’s welcome, as if it’s not involuntary
As if it doesn’t intrude at the worst of times
Times when I should be basking in the wealth of the present
But it’s logical too me, like I left a part of me behind
I’m shivering, the draft’s going through a hole in my soul
It’s that estrangement feeling, like a kid yearning for its parents
It’s that logical, that ingrained, it’s an auto-pilot feeling
When I’m back in control of course I steer away
It’s why I fear the idle thoughts like the bogeyman
Cos do you think I’d feel any better if that void got filled?
I didn’t forget the toxic shit that used to be there
The way it’d twist my mind, it’d leave my feelings behind
The way it made me feel ugly, the way it turned me into a freak
Filled to the brim the prose they used to whisper in my ear
Like “I regret dating a spastic like you”, straight out of
Shakespeare

I know
you’re sick of hearing it
I know you’re sick of them coming back like a bad sequel
I’m sick of it, sicker than I’ve ever been
So please just set aside a little prayer for me about it
Cos I wanna stop thinking about it too
But I can’t escape my favourite of all time
Cos when the anniversary creek’s it ugly head
On the 29th of the year’s tail end
I start thinking about my favourite person
But thinking about ’em’s my least favourite thing

Sebastian Noël

Logical

The sins of my ancestors become the sins of the now,
When my tongues honed where it could clash with a katana.
But my targets are the ones who pat me on the back,
Naturally the usual response to that is a stab in the back.

He opens up his chest and I’m straight on the defence,
What the fuck does he mean when he says that?
Is he trying to brush my pain aside to make a point?
He says “I mean it’s not like how you go through it.”
The fact he didn’t take a decade to proof read every sentence,
That can only be a slight against me, perfect and precise.
So how about I take my drink and show him 2 fingers,
The most logical course of action to that.

He scratches the record to a screeching halt,
“What the fuck’s the matter?” He intervenes.
I wanna tell him how’s he’s not seeing me,
But who on the earth is seeing me,
If me hasn’t been me for this long,
Are they even me, is me even me anymore?
“I dunno.” As I stall for for some amount of time.
He came to this war with a bouquet and I still grazed him.

That’s the catch 22; I’m not seeing him,
A few Thyroids short and I’m not seeing anyone.
I’m seeing words and phrases that I’m trying to recognise,
Clutching my bug-net looking for the bogeyman.
THERE! I know someone who talked to me like that,
A past abuser from a eon gone by.
You thought that’d one would slip by me?
“What have I done to be suspicious?” He asks.
What you’ve done? Well you’ve done nothing,
But everyone at one point done nothing,
Until they start to do something,
And out of nowhere they’ve done everything.

Burn a bridge on a hunch,
Carjack your heart out on a probably,
I’m so dependant on the kindness of others,
While still backed up against the wall.
When a scratch goes down like decapitation,
You can’t take any chances on that.
Treat my company like a rental,
One wrong move it’s revoked from you.
“How can I be expected to love someone
Whose hand is always circling the eject button?”
Like I dunno man, but what’s the alternative?
Cos I’m getting too old to nurse another wound,
When it’s week 2 chained to my bedroom,
Keeping my psyche together with PV glue,
As yet another chance to succeed is doomed.
Another degree flies on by, another career down the drain,
The hand outs will stop, and I’ll be marking my grave.

– Sebastian Noël (For Mental Health Awareness Week)

Paranoid Patty: Decent

That’ll be £5.50 for the underground,
Just to come face to face with another educator,
As they deconstruct the many ways you fucked it this time.
Face sunk into your own scarf, revelling in your stench,
Clutching your Yabba-Fro-Chino, passing Euston.
Tastes like shit, makes your plasma pass at a snail’s rate,
Eons better than pushing trash down to avoid hunger.
Already feels like your insides are gonna give out.
Heart attack on the Hammersmith line, no hope there,
They’d sooner kick your corpse on the tracks to make it home.

The world around you is coming apart,
And that’s to say nothing of the world inside.
Millions of miles before anyone knows your name,
Even then it’s usually in infamy.
Ping! From your Facebook;
“Why can’t you come to this party you can’t afford?”
Ping! From your inbox;
“Why can’t you come home for xmas?
Fake a smile and share some crap food
With the very people who left the scars on your mind?”
She looks down, traces the cuts on her hands,
She wasn’t even sad when she made them last night.
She just wanted to get the same reaction from the outside,
As they’d give if they could see her insides.
The sigh from the bus driver, the looks from her classmates,
From being scared, broken and ruined.

She covers her mock exam results when she gets them.
She doesn’t wanna know if she’s fucked it all again.
She doesn’t wanna know if her momma were right.
She doesn’t wanna know if the voice in her head called it.
Little trip past the corner shop on her way home,
Maybe a little wine to shred time off this episode.
Gets to her room, collapsed in front of the screen.
She’s crying for help but she doesn’t know what she wants,
Cos she doesn’t believe when her friends say they miss her,
Cos she doesn’t believe it when her boy says he loves her.
What Sasquatch or deity is she looking for?
What they gotta say to make it all go away?
Her skin sags like it’s not connected to her body anymore,
Her psyche feels like 5 years out of sync.
Just reminds her she’s got no control of her body.
Anything she could be proud of is pouring from her fingers;
She can’t write any lines no more,
She can’t fuck to save her life no more,
And everytime she vocalises that, she makes someone cry.
So sit tight, mouth shut, as it all melts away.
Scratch your scalp as your hair’s coming out,
Readjust your eye as it’s falling from your sockets.
Your hearts beating extra drums out of sync,
Bed sheets ruined, as your life seeps out of your pores.
Finish the wine, try and lose consciousness for tonight,
Maybe it’ll be better tomorrow.

That’s what you said last night.

Sebastian Noël

You Cannot Claim Isolation, Then Swipe Away The Hand That Heals

Hey Seb, Please Seb, Why Seb,
Please talk to me Seb, Hey Seb
Why Seb, How Seb, Please Seb
Can’t you see me? Can’t you hear me?
Please Seb, Hey Seb, Answer us Seb
Can’t you feel me? Can’t you touch me?
Let me know I’m still real, Please I gotta know
That you can see me, that I can still be?
Open the door Seb, Please Seb
Or did you give up? And only a spectre remains?
Why Seb, Answer the phone Seb, Please
Why did you decide to see through me
Is that why I can’t prophesize you
Stay alive, Please, Why Seb
Don’t you see me? Don’t you need me?
You could’ve called me anytime
Why wait till your writhing
You can end the suffering anytime
You know you could
Why keep going Seb? Please stop it
Touch me Seb, Why, Love me, Please
Don’t you believe me? Please
Why continue not to see me?
Why can’t you embrace me?
What keeps you in the torture chamber?
Come on Seb, Please, Why can’t you? Please
Illuminate my collided crystallines
Permeate my gilded leather
Contextualize my deserted skin
Oh god why? Anything Please, I can’t watch
Penalise my eyes, bypass corroded ties
Why do you want me to watch you die?
Anything to brutalise
The one man you want to pulverise
Stop it Seb, We care about you Seb, Stop, Please
Why you wanna hurt so bad?
How can you hate anything that bad?
Why Seb, Please Seb, No Seb, Stop Seb

Sebastian Noël

Gone (W.I.P)

She shatters the sound barrier
With a silent mouth and detached glass
As the respiratory routine escapes her
It’s time to dissolve from the very time itself

With her iris now pillaging it’s shade
From every other faucet of her surrounding
As the scalp’s flowing red keeps the sunlight
Peeking from the fringe to survey the surrounding
Grasps turn into scuttles
As the portal’s to the gazes overpopulate
There’s no direction to go to incite some relief
This is the reality of the rest of the night henceforth

A̵̯̓ͯ̈́̊ͭͯͩ̀̚Ă̡̹̟͉̫̖̖̗̫̜̓ͦ͜Ā̷̭̙̪̭̪̙̖̔̍͂Ȁ͍̞̦̻̫̪̙͛ͬ́̿ͨ̓̿͛͢͡͞ͅA͒ͤ҉̭͞ͅA̧̡̬͎̬̪̝ͩ̓ͪ̚H̍̐̉̂ͣ́҉̘̲͈̟̺̪Ḧ̵͙̫̤͚̳͈̗̰̜́͂̍̄̂̍͢H̨̏ͯ҉͚͔͖̲̺R̨̩̹̩̅ͤ̊̋̄͂ͥ͝Ŗ̳̩̫ͫ̓̒̊̊͘U̥̱̱̗͉͚̜̯ͫͤͤ̅͛ͪ̉̒Ų̦̩̮͕̗̞͈̼͂̔ͣ́G̙̖͚̦̠̞͙͎̩͐͂̍̐̊̐̈́̚G͍̲͓̝̖̦̺̠̑̿ͨͅH̙̣̰͈̟̫̫̊̔̊̅ͮ̇̆͊͆Hͤ̇ͦ̋̋̚͡͏̝͉A̡̛̳͈͔̘̜̔̓͜Ḁ̫͗͒̊̽͊A̜̬̳̜̲͆ͯͯ͑̂́Ḁ̢͕̤̮̬͛͌͋̇̊ͨͪ̓̋͜ͅA̗̭ͮ̈́̇̔͋ͤ̈̉́͘G͐̈̅̇̚҉̢̗͍̲͕͟H̶̛̭͓̯̦͊̾ͭ̾͊̆́ͅH̴̷̛̹̃ͥ͆̅H̰̪͚͇̟̤̝͚ͣͤ͒̈́̈́ͪ͞Ḫ̗̟̭̇͛̎̏́̚ͅ

She’s gone, gone gone gone
Gone to somewhere beyond comprehension
He tries to follow you with tap water and lexicons
But such things don’t exist where she is now
With shutter eye visionscape
Stitched facial features
As the voids they covet send you straight to hell
A stethoscope prison, a smartphone filter ghetto
Gone gone gone gone gone

And he’s gone gone
Course he did what else would he do?
Why would he appear this time?
With the knowledge to set you free
Course he ain’t bloody here
Gone, gone, as I am too
I can’t return as is
She’ll have to enter stasis again

Sebastian Noël

It Never Ends

The biggest mistake we make as a species
Is that we think that it could ever end
No path to enlightenment ever concludes
No evil targeting your lively hood ever relents
Is the thought that drives people to the grave
That no Miami tinted destination will greet you
The reward comes with doing the act itself
No drug on the earth with emancipate you
The struggle never ends
The nightmare never ends
Self-betterment never ends
Progress never halts
Growth is never stunted
The light is never in reach
The goal is always out of reach
The reach is inconceivable

Cos where does that leave us?
Sitting with our mouths a gape
Waiting for the drip feed to release us
Never opening our eyes to how it enslaves us
The beginning never ends
The learning never ends
The pain won’t let up
The cure isn’t gonna come
Demands won’t stop coming in
The possibilities won’t expand
Yet the solution never changes
The climax is never unattractive
A finale won’t ever spoil
As your motivation, or as your reason
But the 3rd act doesn’t exist
The 74th act is never the last
The book isn’t gonna close
Cos the end has no end

Sebastian Noël