when 140 characters aren't enough, I blog about it.

Extracts from my journal: Abaddon 

Extracts from my journal: Abaddon 

Boundaries. We create them in any and all relationships, and yet those closest to us will act as if crossing those boundaries is nothing major. I trusted her, I trusted her so much so that I believed she would always have my back the same way I’d had hers. 
It’s funny how life works out though, when your so-called friend who supposedly has your best interests at heart, doesn’t even respect your boundaries and yet expects you to act as though nothing happened. She did it, she texted him and involved herself and told me that she cared – but in my eyes there’s no deeper betrayal than crossing my boundaries and acting as though you’ve done nothing wrong. Things began to fall apart from then, it was such a strange space to be in. 
From fasting with her to not wanting anything to do to her, the sweet woman I thought I knew showed me sides to her that reminded me of nothing either than Abaddon. There is no greater evil than the person trying to assimilate into whiteness to further their career with no concerns about how their actions affect other people. She went from “the white girl” kills my vibe to “she’s my friend” in the matter of a few hours and it baffled me, how quickly does one assimilate when they want to seem better? But she blended in, with all the devils in that environment and I watched on as she managed to alienate me and made it seem as though I was at fault, I accepted it. Because it’s never a nice thing outing someone, and even if I did the pain of harming someone I once cared about was excruciating for me. I couldn’t do it, so I held my breath and allowed myself to burn. Burning in the fires of the hell she’d managed to create. 
I lived in hell. The hell of being an angel in a place consumed by evil, in a place where people were just dead carcasses to any vulture that swept through that land, and slowly souls began to leave the space as though dementors thrived in that space. 
And those that survived being in that space managed to resuscitate themselves with a bit of chocolate, moving on as though the worst had happened to them and they need to run as far as they could because they in turn feared being murdered by that environment. 
You never truly understand how peoples boundaries are set up until their souls have been drained from them, when late nights become a norm and passion becomes a thing that you once possessed. 
Possessed, that’s how I was begging to feel, as though my being no longer owned itself, as though my body wouldn’t do what it needed to until someone else commanded it to do what they wanted. That’s what happens when your friends move from being a friend to violating every part of your privacy, they hold it over your head and try by all means to dominate a space that you’re in because they want to rid the world of you, they want to replace you and it’s unfortunate because we can all exist here without harming each other, but Satan thrives on people harming each other and I supposed that’s why she’s Abaddon to me, the destroyer of worlds.



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