08.13.09
"Love
Love hangs herself
With the bedsheets in her cell
Threw myself on fires for you
10 good reasons to stay alive
10 good reasons that I can't find
Oh, give me a reason to be beautiful
So sick in his body, so sick in his soul
Oh, give me one reason to be beautiful
Oh, and everything I am
Love hates you
I live my life in ruins for you
And for all your secrets kept
I squashed the blossom and the blossom's dead
Oh, give me a reason to be beautiful
So sick in his body, so sick in his soul
Oh, and I will make myself so beautiful
Oh, and everything I am
Miles and miles of perfect skin
I swear I do, I fit right in
My love burns through everything
I cannot breathe
Miles and miles of perfect sin
I swear, I said, I fit right in
I fit right in your perfect skin
I cannot breathe
Hey, baby, take it all the way...down
Hey, baby, taste me anyway
Oh, you were born
So pretty oh summerbabe
We'll never know...
And fading like a rose
Give me a reason to be beautiful
So sick in his body, so sick in his soul
I'll give you my body, just sell me your soul
Oh, and everything I am will be bought and sold
Oh, and everything I am will turn hard and cold
And they say in the end
You'll get bitter just like them
And they steal your heart away
When the fire goes out you better learn to fake
It's better to rise than fade away.....
Hey you were right
Named a star for your eyes
Did you freeze did you weep
Turn to gold, baby, sleep
Hey honey mine
I was there all the time
And I weep at your feet
And it rains and rains"
Thursday, August 13, 2009
...
08.13.09
"Everytime that I sell myself to you
I feel a little bit cheaper than I need to
I wiil tear the petals off of you
Rose-red, I will make you tell the truth
Was she asking for it?
Was she asking nice?
Yeah, she was asking for it
Did she ask you twice?
Everytime that I stare into the sun
Angel dust and my dress just comes undone
Everytime that I stare into the sun
Be a model or just look like one
Well I'll rock it to the end
Do you think you can make me do it again?
Was she asking for it?
Was she asking nice?
Yeah, she was asking for it
Did she ask you twice?
If you live through this with me, I swear that I will die for you
And if you live through this with me, I swear that I will die for you
Was she asking for it?
Was she asking nice?
Yeah, she was asking for it
Did she ask you twice?"
"Everytime that I sell myself to you
I feel a little bit cheaper than I need to
I wiil tear the petals off of you
Rose-red, I will make you tell the truth
Was she asking for it?
Was she asking nice?
Yeah, she was asking for it
Did she ask you twice?
Everytime that I stare into the sun
Angel dust and my dress just comes undone
Everytime that I stare into the sun
Be a model or just look like one
Well I'll rock it to the end
Do you think you can make me do it again?
Was she asking for it?
Was she asking nice?
Yeah, she was asking for it
Did she ask you twice?
If you live through this with me, I swear that I will die for you
And if you live through this with me, I swear that I will die for you
Was she asking for it?
Was she asking nice?
Yeah, she was asking for it
Did she ask you twice?"
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
...
08.12.09
You know, the only time when you're honest about who you are is when the lights go out at night. It's because you don't have to face yourself and when you wake up in the morning you'll forget the truth anyways. Besides, if you do recall what you saw and said and heard you can pass it off as just another nightmare.
I'm scared of who I'm becoming. A wretched, washed up, sloth-like woman with no ideals, no standards. I can't bring myself to pick you apart and realize you're just the same as me. We should change you know. Take an axe to our present selves. Figuratively of course.
I wish I was with you for a real reason. Not just because you make me feel better about myself. You don't challenge me, you don't inspire me. Hell, all you do is flatter me; compliment me; dote on me. Or at least you do when you want me to stop bitching. And look at what you are. You're digusting, a slob and lazy. You drink too much and you pay too many women. Its not like I don't know, I'm just scared to think that I might not be able to score any better. It's sad that your shitty treatment actually makes me think a little better of myself. That's how fucked up my self-image is.
I thought I was in love once. I was sixteen and he had a year or three on me. I was wreckless and lovesick and couldn't keep my goddamn mouth shut, or my legs for that matter. He knew he had me trapped. Relationship dynamics were far beyond me. I moved too fast, or at least that's what I like to tell myself. I should just accept that he never intended on going anywhere with me. He just wanted me for the sex. His schedule often ran as such: He came to my house, he came in my house (and me) and he left. On occasion I might have been lucky to get a goodbye kiss. Bastard.
Since then I don't do love. Opening your legs is much easier than opening your heart.
You know, the only time when you're honest about who you are is when the lights go out at night. It's because you don't have to face yourself and when you wake up in the morning you'll forget the truth anyways. Besides, if you do recall what you saw and said and heard you can pass it off as just another nightmare.
I'm scared of who I'm becoming. A wretched, washed up, sloth-like woman with no ideals, no standards. I can't bring myself to pick you apart and realize you're just the same as me. We should change you know. Take an axe to our present selves. Figuratively of course.
I wish I was with you for a real reason. Not just because you make me feel better about myself. You don't challenge me, you don't inspire me. Hell, all you do is flatter me; compliment me; dote on me. Or at least you do when you want me to stop bitching. And look at what you are. You're digusting, a slob and lazy. You drink too much and you pay too many women. Its not like I don't know, I'm just scared to think that I might not be able to score any better. It's sad that your shitty treatment actually makes me think a little better of myself. That's how fucked up my self-image is.
I thought I was in love once. I was sixteen and he had a year or three on me. I was wreckless and lovesick and couldn't keep my goddamn mouth shut, or my legs for that matter. He knew he had me trapped. Relationship dynamics were far beyond me. I moved too fast, or at least that's what I like to tell myself. I should just accept that he never intended on going anywhere with me. He just wanted me for the sex. His schedule often ran as such: He came to my house, he came in my house (and me) and he left. On occasion I might have been lucky to get a goodbye kiss. Bastard.
Since then I don't do love. Opening your legs is much easier than opening your heart.
Monday, August 10, 2009
...
08.10.09
I have nothing to say because I have nothing to think. My mind is parched of the juices of existance. The blood that trickles from my veins is black and sour. I try to siphon my thoughts of emptiness into one single point; one pinnacle of reality. But the detonation of brilliance eludes me.
I wallow in my blankets. I overheat my body, sweating, hoping the poisons will crawl out from my pores. I close my eyes and see words written across my eyelids. These words.
My story is humiliating and it reeks of the mundane. I cannot look you in the eye. This inspiration is putrid and selfish and speaks to no one but me.
I wish that I could speak to you.
But when I am around you I am deprived of eloquence. My vocalizations turn simply to talk or worse... mutterings. And you dismiss me like everyone else because they challenge no thought for you. I know that I could invigorate your mind and yet I know that I can't.
We think alike... when I can think, and you're not scared to share your thoughts. But I am. As I said, my story is humiliating.
I have nothing to say because I have nothing to think. My mind is parched of the juices of existance. The blood that trickles from my veins is black and sour. I try to siphon my thoughts of emptiness into one single point; one pinnacle of reality. But the detonation of brilliance eludes me.
I wallow in my blankets. I overheat my body, sweating, hoping the poisons will crawl out from my pores. I close my eyes and see words written across my eyelids. These words.
My story is humiliating and it reeks of the mundane. I cannot look you in the eye. This inspiration is putrid and selfish and speaks to no one but me.
I wish that I could speak to you.
But when I am around you I am deprived of eloquence. My vocalizations turn simply to talk or worse... mutterings. And you dismiss me like everyone else because they challenge no thought for you. I know that I could invigorate your mind and yet I know that I can't.
We think alike... when I can think, and you're not scared to share your thoughts. But I am. As I said, my story is humiliating.
...
08.10.09
Sometimes he grasps my heart a little too hard. It feels like it's about to be wrenched out of my chest. And I'll look over and it will be beating away on the bed beside me. And my yearning becomes detached.
He knows he's got ahold of me and he likes to drag me along. Sometimes it's fun, but it mainly feels like skidding down a gravel road at full speed. I have no control. Sometimes I just wish he would reach in and steal my heart or puncture it so its no longer a part of me.
Sometimes he grasps my heart a little too hard. It feels like it's about to be wrenched out of my chest. And I'll look over and it will be beating away on the bed beside me. And my yearning becomes detached.
He knows he's got ahold of me and he likes to drag me along. Sometimes it's fun, but it mainly feels like skidding down a gravel road at full speed. I have no control. Sometimes I just wish he would reach in and steal my heart or puncture it so its no longer a part of me.
...
08.10.09
I want to be free to like a boy. I want to be asked out again. I like that part of the story. Afterwards, all they tell you is to live happily ever after, but they don't tell you what that means. They don't tell you because the story no longer matters. Nothing of interest. Life continues into monotony.
I want to be free to like a boy. I want to be asked out again. I like that part of the story. Afterwards, all they tell you is to live happily ever after, but they don't tell you what that means. They don't tell you because the story no longer matters. Nothing of interest. Life continues into monotony.
...
07.19.09
"He says I'm crazy
I say "Oh really?"
I'm going to jump on you on the bed.
Make me a monkey
Make me fall over
Make me a cradle
Hold me instead
I'm not going to say it
Okay I'll say it
Flying over stars
And over to your room
I'm caught in an ice storm
I'm caught in your eyes
I'm losing my mind
But I'm winning you
Send me you on Saturday
Or Thursday
I want to get to you tonight
Send me you on Sunday
Or Wednesday
I want to get this right
Maybe I'll come over
Do you want me to come over?
Can I sing to you, goodnight?
I just want pleasure
I just want heaven
I just want you tonight
Tonight!
'Cause this is going somewhere
Feels like forever
Can't I bite your hands
Your neck
Alright?
Send me you on Saturday
Or Thursday
I want to get to you tonight
Send me you on Sunday
Or Wednesday
I want to get this right
Send me you on Friday
Or monday
I want to get to you tonight
Send me you on Saturday
Or Tuesday
I want to get you right."
"He says I'm crazy
I say "Oh really?"
I'm going to jump on you on the bed.
Make me a monkey
Make me fall over
Make me a cradle
Hold me instead
I'm not going to say it
Okay I'll say it
Flying over stars
And over to your room
I'm caught in an ice storm
I'm caught in your eyes
I'm losing my mind
But I'm winning you
Send me you on Saturday
Or Thursday
I want to get to you tonight
Send me you on Sunday
Or Wednesday
I want to get this right
Maybe I'll come over
Do you want me to come over?
Can I sing to you, goodnight?
I just want pleasure
I just want heaven
I just want you tonight
Tonight!
'Cause this is going somewhere
Feels like forever
Can't I bite your hands
Your neck
Alright?
Send me you on Saturday
Or Thursday
I want to get to you tonight
Send me you on Sunday
Or Wednesday
I want to get this right
Send me you on Friday
Or monday
I want to get to you tonight
Send me you on Saturday
Or Tuesday
I want to get you right."
...
07.19.09
"I wind you up
Then I wait here
For the melancholy
I give you up
While you sit here
In all of your glory
I never thought you would
I never knew you could
But now you're gone
And I don't think I care
I sold your love
Down the river
For a bow and arrow
Euphoria has just been here
And she's looking terrible
I've never sunk this low
It's better if you go
When you're nearby
I see you
And want you to try
To love me
Like a monster
One last time
Control me
Like a father
One last time
Stay with me
Till I'm stronger
One last round
To kick me when I'm down
Don't kick me when I'm down
I never thought you would
I never understood
That's why I'm weak
And I want you to try
To make me an example
One last time
To drag me
Through the cycle
One last time
To make me a disciple
One last round
Will get me to the ground
You'll get me on the ground
I guess I'll see you around
I'll see you around"
"I wind you up
Then I wait here
For the melancholy
I give you up
While you sit here
In all of your glory
I never thought you would
I never knew you could
But now you're gone
And I don't think I care
I sold your love
Down the river
For a bow and arrow
Euphoria has just been here
And she's looking terrible
I've never sunk this low
It's better if you go
When you're nearby
I see you
And want you to try
To love me
Like a monster
One last time
Control me
Like a father
One last time
Stay with me
Till I'm stronger
One last round
To kick me when I'm down
Don't kick me when I'm down
I never thought you would
I never understood
That's why I'm weak
And I want you to try
To make me an example
One last time
To drag me
Through the cycle
One last time
To make me a disciple
One last round
Will get me to the ground
You'll get me on the ground
I guess I'll see you around
I'll see you around"
...
07.17.09
Who are we?
Inquired my friend
Inexistance perhaps
Scaled down to
Nothingness
Heartbeats are silenced
To an amplification so great
So great we believe it's there
Metronomical
Is that even a word?
We ask ourselves
And of course it is
We just said it
Creation
Unheard of?
Or unseen?
Perhaps both
Engineered articulation
Unfathomable
By those walking
In lines so great
They stretch the whole world
Until disintegration
The End
No the beginning
The essence
Of who we are
Defied
You and your brothers
And your heroes
And those unearthly
Gods
Do not exist
By my side
Or in the heavens
That are but
Skies
So blue
As blue as my sad
Who comes around
On occasions of
Exploration
Too see inside
The answer
To my friend's
Inquiry
Which has
Not to
This day been
Answered
Who are we?
Inquired my friend
Inexistance perhaps
Scaled down to
Nothingness
Heartbeats are silenced
To an amplification so great
So great we believe it's there
Metronomical
Is that even a word?
We ask ourselves
And of course it is
We just said it
Creation
Unheard of?
Or unseen?
Perhaps both
Engineered articulation
Unfathomable
By those walking
In lines so great
They stretch the whole world
Until disintegration
The End
No the beginning
The essence
Of who we are
Defied
You and your brothers
And your heroes
And those unearthly
Gods
Do not exist
By my side
Or in the heavens
That are but
Skies
So blue
As blue as my sad
Who comes around
On occasions of
Exploration
Too see inside
The answer
To my friend's
Inquiry
Which has
Not to
This day been
Answered
...
07.17.09
My fractional heart beats on
A filigree of blood and sadness
You inebriate me
You lead me on with your wiles
But this flesh of vermillion
Has a carnal need
Love was ephemeral
But my heart is still awake
My fractional heart beats on
A filigree of blood and sadness
You inebriate me
You lead me on with your wiles
But this flesh of vermillion
Has a carnal need
Love was ephemeral
But my heart is still awake
...
07.17.09
Existing in this stasis
Longing and savouring
A sojourn with you
Enamored 'till dawn
Dissolved, then sequestered
Destitute in this void
Automatous and cramped
I lust for cessation
Existing in this stasis
Longing and savouring
A sojourn with you
Enamored 'till dawn
Dissolved, then sequestered
Destitute in this void
Automatous and cramped
I lust for cessation
...
07.17.09
Farm life is simple, peaceful and Me. I love it here. I love the daily chores that keep my moving body coated with a film of healthy perspiration. I love how fit I feel. How I don't mind getting dirty and how, on a hot day, I can feel the water from the hose evaporating off of my skin.
I love the animals. More than anything, I love the animals. But I also love the plants. They feel so alive, but not just in a biologically sense; they seem to beam with wisdom. I honestly envy them. The way they dance to the music the wind orchestrates. And all the pretty colours. Colours I can only immitate.
I wonder if they love me back? If they look down at me with care and the desire to protect me. I hope so, because they remind me to love myself and all the people who love me. They are peace to my heart.
When I was little they were my playground and my hiding spot. They were like a lost country just for me. All for me. I was Pocahontas, I was Tinkerbell and most often I was just a monkey swinging in the trees. I felt so safe and just utterly fearless climbing those branches, or hidden in the long grass. I felt a sisterly love for all the flowers that I picked. I wanted to protect them and never allow them to become damaged.
Maybe I was just a silly girl, but that world was more of a home to me than my technical home was. My favourite memory is the dew on the soles of my feet from the early mornings in grandpa's back yard.
I missed the smell of the world. I love being home.
Farm life is simple, peaceful and Me. I love it here. I love the daily chores that keep my moving body coated with a film of healthy perspiration. I love how fit I feel. How I don't mind getting dirty and how, on a hot day, I can feel the water from the hose evaporating off of my skin.
I love the animals. More than anything, I love the animals. But I also love the plants. They feel so alive, but not just in a biologically sense; they seem to beam with wisdom. I honestly envy them. The way they dance to the music the wind orchestrates. And all the pretty colours. Colours I can only immitate.
I wonder if they love me back? If they look down at me with care and the desire to protect me. I hope so, because they remind me to love myself and all the people who love me. They are peace to my heart.
When I was little they were my playground and my hiding spot. They were like a lost country just for me. All for me. I was Pocahontas, I was Tinkerbell and most often I was just a monkey swinging in the trees. I felt so safe and just utterly fearless climbing those branches, or hidden in the long grass. I felt a sisterly love for all the flowers that I picked. I wanted to protect them and never allow them to become damaged.
Maybe I was just a silly girl, but that world was more of a home to me than my technical home was. My favourite memory is the dew on the soles of my feet from the early mornings in grandpa's back yard.
I missed the smell of the world. I love being home.
...
07.17.09
Lately, I've found myself stuck in thought. Nothing flows through my mind anymore. I'm really disappointed in myself. Perhaps I just need some inspiration.
Lately, I've found myself stuck in thought. Nothing flows through my mind anymore. I'm really disappointed in myself. Perhaps I just need some inspiration.
...
07.17.09
See through eyes
Into eyes
Up into the sky
A transparent self
My soul; the clouds
And it rains
See through eyes
Into eyes
Up into the sky
A transparent self
My soul; the clouds
And it rains
...
07.17.09
Why are people so fucking self-centered? I am so tired of people being so obnoxious and rude. They have no quelms with interruption and rejection of other people. Stop living your life like you are the only one here; you are surrounded by deserving people.
Why are people so fucking self-centered? I am so tired of people being so obnoxious and rude. They have no quelms with interruption and rejection of other people. Stop living your life like you are the only one here; you are surrounded by deserving people.
...
07.17.09
Don't ever question my authority over myself. I can walk without you, I can speak without you and I can still love without you. I am declaring my autonomy.
Don't ever question my authority over myself. I can walk without you, I can speak without you and I can still love without you. I am declaring my autonomy.
...
07.17.09
Intellectually I am capable of success. However, without enthusiasm I have no fuel. I'm still stuck in park.
Intellectually I am capable of success. However, without enthusiasm I have no fuel. I'm still stuck in park.
...
07.17.09
I just feel so used and so used up. I'm sick of trying to make everyone else happy. Why can't someone try to make me happy for once?
I just feel so used and so used up. I'm sick of trying to make everyone else happy. Why can't someone try to make me happy for once?
...
07.17.09
Her lips are so innocent
How beautiful, her eyes do tell the truth
She can't pretend that person she wishes to be
Because in the purest sense she's
so beautiful
Too beautiful
And if she walks in my direction
I'll just slip a smile
Let's let her know
As hidden as she thinks she is
Oh no, we can see right through
She's too beautiful
She's scared
So scared
Thoughts divided
By her differences
She's beautiful
Too beautiful
For me
Her lips are so innocent
How beautiful, her eyes do tell the truth
She can't pretend that person she wishes to be
Because in the purest sense she's
so beautiful
Too beautiful
And if she walks in my direction
I'll just slip a smile
Let's let her know
As hidden as she thinks she is
Oh no, we can see right through
She's too beautiful
She's scared
So scared
Thoughts divided
By her differences
She's beautiful
Too beautiful
For me
...
07.17.09
I write to myself because there is no one to write to. My words continue to go unheard. I used to share them with Him but these past months have gone by and nothing has been shared between us.
My prose, my poetry, my life, can remain my own. For years, for decades, and especially for this moment. I bless myself with this gift and it is happily received.
Move onwards my darling. The future is much happier than the past. So much happier than the present. I love you and you deserve this.
I write to myself because there is no one to write to. My words continue to go unheard. I used to share them with Him but these past months have gone by and nothing has been shared between us.
My prose, my poetry, my life, can remain my own. For years, for decades, and especially for this moment. I bless myself with this gift and it is happily received.
Move onwards my darling. The future is much happier than the past. So much happier than the present. I love you and you deserve this.
...
06.04.09
"You thought I liked your music, but I didn’t.Your chords are sour and your strums seep like slop into separate sounds. Your voice is too much like copper and I think your words are too strung and too stinging to celebrate the knots in your heart. But I’ll listen anyway. I’ll keep my eyes open and my gut shut.I have to, because without you I’d have no fuel. Your words are my fumes, your swears super unleaded. It pumps me until I can get out of bed. I guess my doctor would call it rage. I guess my mind would call it love.You thought I liked your music, but I don’t.I guess everyone else does because it shows them something different; something scary; something new. I guess I don’t because it’s what I hear in my head every second, and I don’t really like to share."
"You thought I liked your music, but I didn’t.Your chords are sour and your strums seep like slop into separate sounds. Your voice is too much like copper and I think your words are too strung and too stinging to celebrate the knots in your heart. But I’ll listen anyway. I’ll keep my eyes open and my gut shut.I have to, because without you I’d have no fuel. Your words are my fumes, your swears super unleaded. It pumps me until I can get out of bed. I guess my doctor would call it rage. I guess my mind would call it love.You thought I liked your music, but I don’t.I guess everyone else does because it shows them something different; something scary; something new. I guess I don’t because it’s what I hear in my head every second, and I don’t really like to share."
...
03.25.09
"Go ahead and tell me you'll leave again. you'll just come back running. Holding your scarred heart in hand. It's all the same and I'll take you for who you are, if you take me for everything. Do it all over again. It's all the same"
"Go ahead and tell me you'll leave again. you'll just come back running. Holding your scarred heart in hand. It's all the same and I'll take you for who you are, if you take me for everything. Do it all over again. It's all the same"
...
03.12.09
Where did the love go?
It vanished sometime along the way
There's no point chasing it
It will always get away
Where did the love go?
It vanished sometime along the way
There's no point chasing it
It will always get away
...
03.07.09
Maybe it's not okay
Have you ever thought?
It's not meant to be said
Aloud anymore
For a year or three
Whichever I feel
Till I can believe
Maybe it's not okay
Have you ever thought?
It's not meant to be said
Aloud anymore
For a year or three
Whichever I feel
Till I can believe
...
02.16.09
They say you need someone
Well you only need yourself
So happy I could
Maybe help you out
Alot are scared of me
For no one but themselves
Alot won't talk to me
To find the truth out
Running crazy
Running nowhere
Running crazy
And back again
You saw me on the streets
laughing at your cowardice
You're caught in his arms
And you won't break away
you're held there
but you don't see
the death you've bought yourself
no one knows but me
and i'll try to keep your secret
Running crazy
Running nowhere
Running crazy
And back again
The weak can't rise again
because they never took the fall
I knew you couldn't fly
held right to the ground
but i can stay up here
and i'll watch over you
Running crazy
Running nowhere
Running crazy
And back again
They say you need someone
Well you only need yourself
So happy I could
Maybe help you out
Alot are scared of me
For no one but themselves
Alot won't talk to me
To find the truth out
Running crazy
Running nowhere
Running crazy
And back again
You saw me on the streets
laughing at your cowardice
You're caught in his arms
And you won't break away
you're held there
but you don't see
the death you've bought yourself
no one knows but me
and i'll try to keep your secret
Running crazy
Running nowhere
Running crazy
And back again
The weak can't rise again
because they never took the fall
I knew you couldn't fly
held right to the ground
but i can stay up here
and i'll watch over you
Running crazy
Running nowhere
Running crazy
And back again
...
02.16.09
So aroused
I'm not aroused
You don't do anything to me
Staying in
All day long
And my curtains will stay closed
I'll fall asleep without you
I can't keep blank
another day
there's nothing to erase
except for you
but even then
I'll say why
I'll fall asleep without you
Maybe come in
Come inside me
we'll see what's going down
I'll fall asleep with you
So aroused
I'm not aroused
You don't do anything to me
Staying in
All day long
And my curtains will stay closed
I'll fall asleep without you
I can't keep blank
another day
there's nothing to erase
except for you
but even then
I'll say why
I'll fall asleep without you
Maybe come in
Come inside me
we'll see what's going down
I'll fall asleep with you
...
02.16.09
She stays up all night
wondering what to do
shred her body
or turn back time
why'd it happen?
she should have closed herself
but no she
Opened wide
and her soul escaped
I guess she didn't guess
the consequences
thought she'd be fine
maybe she would find
pleasure
to which she'd never had
but instead she found torment
she opened wide
and her soul escaped
Is this the end?
why should it be?
but she'll
Run and hide
and never find herself
She stays up all night
wondering what to do
shred her body
or turn back time
why'd it happen?
she should have closed herself
but no she
Opened wide
and her soul escaped
I guess she didn't guess
the consequences
thought she'd be fine
maybe she would find
pleasure
to which she'd never had
but instead she found torment
she opened wide
and her soul escaped
Is this the end?
why should it be?
but she'll
Run and hide
and never find herself
...
02.16.09
Here today
Why today?
I guess it's not tomorrow
Not alone
Disappeared together
Smile today
Not frown again
We're all here together
Nowhere
At last
Here today
Why today?
I guess it's not tomorrow
Not alone
Disappeared together
Smile today
Not frown again
We're all here together
Nowhere
At last
...
02.16.09
When you go out
To the streets downtown
You'll avert your eyes
Perhaps they'll be gone
Defaced walls
Homeless men
Trying to survive
Here in lies
Disgust undisguised
I guess they're see through
Unbelievable
Disgracing the streets
A sordid painting
At your feet
As though anything
Could ever fall
Fall below
That solid line
Only the human mind
Here in lies
Disgust undisguised
When you go out
To the streets downtown
You'll avert your eyes
Perhaps they'll be gone
Defaced walls
Homeless men
Trying to survive
Here in lies
Disgust undisguised
I guess they're see through
Unbelievable
Disgracing the streets
A sordid painting
At your feet
As though anything
Could ever fall
Fall below
That solid line
Only the human mind
Here in lies
Disgust undisguised
...
02.16.09
Open your eyes
So you can see me
Let's identify
So you'll still need me
We aren't alone
Surrounded by ourselves
It's dominating
You can't control yourself
Why can't it always be this way?
Exploration
To our new found selves
Hiding out
Whispering to no one else
Not a secret
The first time we heard it
But we've realized
It's a part of Us
Why can't it always be this way?
Open your eyes
So you can see me
Let's identify
So you'll still need me
We aren't alone
Surrounded by ourselves
It's dominating
You can't control yourself
Why can't it always be this way?
Exploration
To our new found selves
Hiding out
Whispering to no one else
Not a secret
The first time we heard it
But we've realized
It's a part of Us
Why can't it always be this way?
...
01.30.09
I'm going nowhere
Nowhere with this man
I feel more used
than loved
and I don't know
how to turn around
He can't see my eyes
Get me out
He can't see my eyes
Get me out
Come, come, come
Come on
I can't hear
my own self talk
Maybe I can think
but it makes no fucking difference
He can't see my eyes
Get me out
He can't see my eyes
Get me out
I'm going nowhere
Nowhere with this man
I feel more used
than loved
and I don't know
how to turn around
He can't see my eyes
Get me out
He can't see my eyes
Get me out
Come, come, come
Come on
I can't hear
my own self talk
Maybe I can think
but it makes no fucking difference
He can't see my eyes
Get me out
He can't see my eyes
Get me out
...
01.13.09
Tonight burnt my out
Hate and shout
You want to walk with me?
You never talk to me
you never even look me in the eyes
It's no suprise
Dishonesty
All the time with me
You say, you said, you say
That you need me
I know, I knew, I know
You don't treat me
Right
I'm running away tonight
Your stabs have
Ripped me to shreds
Left me for dead
And that won't be the end
Those unforgettable words
I can't stop the hurt
I won't let you come
When I run
You say, you said, you say
That you need me
I know, I knew, I know
You don't treat me
Right
I'm running away tonight
You don't need me
You just feed me
Lies
I'm running away tonight
You say, you said, you say
That you need me
I know, I knew, I know
You don't treat me right
I'm running away tonight
×××
Summer's gone by
I said goodbye
To life awhile ago
Warm winds
And my sins
Forgotten long ago
She said the sky
Will smile tonight
And then never again
She said our minds
Will open wide
Engulfing prayers on our fingertips
I think the flowers
Sold our power
to that man we once held dear
the hearts of thousands
Chased their husbands
Down the road to God knows where
That field so empty
and so lonely
has been long ago set free
Our minds were made
To change the ways
of things dealt in the past
Our impurities
so purely
Beautiful in every way
We'll rise against
The wind again
and fly away from here
The most important thing
We'll ever sing
Is how we love ourselves
We'll hear our names
And smile again
Happy for who we are
You've blessed our world
All of you girls
So please just love yourselves
Love yourself
×××
I ran away
today
chased my fears
to here
i smell the new
who knew
life could blister
sister
pop right out
and shout
in your face
your place
in this social hierarchy
you're not free
you're not free
from this destiny
you'll see
fate is a part of everything
and i've talked
the talk
to get to safety
maybe
closed my door
to horrors
it's warm inside
so we'll hide
from the world outside
we cry
but now we're stuck
and out of luck
in a place we cannot see
i guess we're not free
you're not free
from this destiny
you'll see
fate is a part of everything
×××
This city with its burnt out lights
Paints the face of no delight
The inspiration of the sins
To all the kids who live within
The broken streets at all hours
Makes you feel so unempowered
All the buildings with their crumbling stairs
Forgot long ago to hear our prayers
Bridges swaying in the wind
Encouraging apathy to no end
These parkades with their flickering lights
Makes us kids so impolite
The kids have nowhere to go
The kids have nothing to show
The kids have nowhere to go
Leaving here
We'll disappear
Skylines change
We'll never be the same
Tonight burnt my out
Hate and shout
You want to walk with me?
You never talk to me
you never even look me in the eyes
It's no suprise
Dishonesty
All the time with me
You say, you said, you say
That you need me
I know, I knew, I know
You don't treat me
Right
I'm running away tonight
Your stabs have
Ripped me to shreds
Left me for dead
And that won't be the end
Those unforgettable words
I can't stop the hurt
I won't let you come
When I run
You say, you said, you say
That you need me
I know, I knew, I know
You don't treat me
Right
I'm running away tonight
You don't need me
You just feed me
Lies
I'm running away tonight
You say, you said, you say
That you need me
I know, I knew, I know
You don't treat me right
I'm running away tonight
×××
Summer's gone by
I said goodbye
To life awhile ago
Warm winds
And my sins
Forgotten long ago
She said the sky
Will smile tonight
And then never again
She said our minds
Will open wide
Engulfing prayers on our fingertips
I think the flowers
Sold our power
to that man we once held dear
the hearts of thousands
Chased their husbands
Down the road to God knows where
That field so empty
and so lonely
has been long ago set free
Our minds were made
To change the ways
of things dealt in the past
Our impurities
so purely
Beautiful in every way
We'll rise against
The wind again
and fly away from here
The most important thing
We'll ever sing
Is how we love ourselves
We'll hear our names
And smile again
Happy for who we are
You've blessed our world
All of you girls
So please just love yourselves
Love yourself
×××
I ran away
today
chased my fears
to here
i smell the new
who knew
life could blister
sister
pop right out
and shout
in your face
your place
in this social hierarchy
you're not free
you're not free
from this destiny
you'll see
fate is a part of everything
and i've talked
the talk
to get to safety
maybe
closed my door
to horrors
it's warm inside
so we'll hide
from the world outside
we cry
but now we're stuck
and out of luck
in a place we cannot see
i guess we're not free
you're not free
from this destiny
you'll see
fate is a part of everything
×××
This city with its burnt out lights
Paints the face of no delight
The inspiration of the sins
To all the kids who live within
The broken streets at all hours
Makes you feel so unempowered
All the buildings with their crumbling stairs
Forgot long ago to hear our prayers
Bridges swaying in the wind
Encouraging apathy to no end
These parkades with their flickering lights
Makes us kids so impolite
The kids have nowhere to go
The kids have nothing to show
The kids have nowhere to go
Leaving here
We'll disappear
Skylines change
We'll never be the same
...
01.11.09
" I feel so numb.I hate parents. I just hate them.They dont realize how terrible they can make our lives. It's so easy to do and they don't even care. They care about their happiness and what they think is right, not even taking into consideration we are our own people with our own minds and needs.If she wants her to be happy, this is NOT the way to do it.I just dont know what to doHannah told her mom last night.This morning her mom found Hannah's camera with pictures of us kissing.Hannah's mom makes her call me and her mom talks to me saying I'm never allowed to talk to her again. On the computer, on the phone, anywhere. ever. until she's 18.She's "not comfortable with this" and she's "sure I'm a nice girl, but she's going to have to ask me to leave her daughter alone." She " doesn't want to have to call my mom."I just stood there shaking. What could I say?Hannah's bawling, I can't cry because I'm at the barn and my grandma was there to pick me up.I'm so upsetI'm sitting here bawling my eyes out.I dont even know what to doI dont know what to doShe doesn't deserve this, not at all. She's such a good person, she doesn't deserve to have all this shit happen.All she could say to me over and over again while she was bawling was "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you."I don't know what to do.I just want to go save her. I dont want this to happen to her.She told her mom for me. She thought maybe it would make it easier for us to be together.-- and for anyone still confused, Hannah is my girlfriend. She told her mom she likes girls last night.She doesn't deserve this shit.oh my fuck I hate life"
" I feel so numb.I hate parents. I just hate them.They dont realize how terrible they can make our lives. It's so easy to do and they don't even care. They care about their happiness and what they think is right, not even taking into consideration we are our own people with our own minds and needs.If she wants her to be happy, this is NOT the way to do it.I just dont know what to doHannah told her mom last night.This morning her mom found Hannah's camera with pictures of us kissing.Hannah's mom makes her call me and her mom talks to me saying I'm never allowed to talk to her again. On the computer, on the phone, anywhere. ever. until she's 18.She's "not comfortable with this" and she's "sure I'm a nice girl, but she's going to have to ask me to leave her daughter alone." She " doesn't want to have to call my mom."I just stood there shaking. What could I say?Hannah's bawling, I can't cry because I'm at the barn and my grandma was there to pick me up.I'm so upsetI'm sitting here bawling my eyes out.I dont even know what to doI dont know what to doShe doesn't deserve this, not at all. She's such a good person, she doesn't deserve to have all this shit happen.All she could say to me over and over again while she was bawling was "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you."I don't know what to do.I just want to go save her. I dont want this to happen to her.She told her mom for me. She thought maybe it would make it easier for us to be together.-- and for anyone still confused, Hannah is my girlfriend. She told her mom she likes girls last night.She doesn't deserve this shit.oh my fuck I hate life"
...
01.11.09
There's nothing in this world
Nothing for me
And people say to dream
Fantasies aren't gonna live out
No one talks
Only scream and shout
Open your legs, open your ears
Open your heart
But what can you really hear?
Nobody gets it
But they say they do
You say you think
But it's not really you
Maybe you're right
Maybe I'm wrong
Either way I'm still gonna fight
I piss on you now
Cause you pissed on me then
Now everything is coming around
How can you even say
That you can see
When blindness fills your ways
Nobody gets it
But they say they do
You say that you think
But it's not really you
How can you say
You know what I need
You say I'm unlocked
Perhaps I've been freed
Well lock me back up
Lock me back up
Lock me back up
Away from here
Keep me out of this fucked up world
Nobody gets it
But they say that they do
If you say that you're thinking
Then I'm glad I'm not you
There's nothing in this world
Nothing for me
And people say to dream
Fantasies aren't gonna live out
No one talks
Only scream and shout
Open your legs, open your ears
Open your heart
But what can you really hear?
Nobody gets it
But they say they do
You say you think
But it's not really you
Maybe you're right
Maybe I'm wrong
Either way I'm still gonna fight
I piss on you now
Cause you pissed on me then
Now everything is coming around
How can you even say
That you can see
When blindness fills your ways
Nobody gets it
But they say they do
You say that you think
But it's not really you
How can you say
You know what I need
You say I'm unlocked
Perhaps I've been freed
Well lock me back up
Lock me back up
Lock me back up
Away from here
Keep me out of this fucked up world
Nobody gets it
But they say that they do
If you say that you're thinking
Then I'm glad I'm not you
...
01.02.09
And take my life away. Possibly. Not by death, but by stealing everything I have. I can't quite wrap my head around the concept. So I'll nod and go along. I've been in hanging in too long. I think it's time to sleep. And sleep for quite some time. I need a chance to be fully awake. My grasp of the situation has long since slid away. My mind's grip is obviously weak. So I'll just let myself fall. Fall into a deep sleep.
And take my life away. Possibly. Not by death, but by stealing everything I have. I can't quite wrap my head around the concept. So I'll nod and go along. I've been in hanging in too long. I think it's time to sleep. And sleep for quite some time. I need a chance to be fully awake. My grasp of the situation has long since slid away. My mind's grip is obviously weak. So I'll just let myself fall. Fall into a deep sleep.
...
12.23.08
You said that I would go to show
The world something it did not know
You said you loved me oh so dear
That we could run away from here
You held me tight in your arms
Protected from the world's harms
Tucked me in with a goodnight kiss
You smiled and said 'have sweet dreams Kris'
I've always thought you were so strong
So I'm writing you this song
You said we were all you had
What had kept you from being sad
The only thing you had done right
The rest of life brought no delight
I want you to know I feel the same
Each and every step of the way
You've held me up through thick and thin
And provided me strength from within
I've always thought you were so strong
So I'm writing you this song
You said that I would go to show
The world something it did not know
You said you loved me oh so dear
That we could run away from here
You held me tight in your arms
Protected from the world's harms
Tucked me in with a goodnight kiss
You smiled and said 'have sweet dreams Kris'
I've always thought you were so strong
So I'm writing you this song
You said we were all you had
What had kept you from being sad
The only thing you had done right
The rest of life brought no delight
I want you to know I feel the same
Each and every step of the way
You've held me up through thick and thin
And provided me strength from within
I've always thought you were so strong
So I'm writing you this song
...
10.09.08
All I see is black and white
I like how you're so goddamned tight
You're holding all of my interest
Written words with my address
Were held together by your powers
Ripped apart and now devoured
Stripped away from my ideals
I feel so naked and revealed
You opened up with deception
Little known was your intention
To cut a shape so unlike me
Those eyes so black with apathy
Insert yourself in this curtain
Close my eyes, I'm left uncertain
Veered off the path that I had woven
Forced wherever you have chosen
My life leads on right to your hand
Brush away that single strand
To you my life is vision clear
Without my eyes I'm drenched in fear
You opened up with deception
Little known was your intention
To cut a shape so unlike me
Those eyes so black with apathy
You will fall into them
Can't crawl out of them
No hopes of sight
No way to fight
So brace yourself
And pray for help
Those eyes so black with apathy
All I see is black and white
I like how you're so goddamned tight
You're holding all of my interest
Written words with my address
Were held together by your powers
Ripped apart and now devoured
Stripped away from my ideals
I feel so naked and revealed
You opened up with deception
Little known was your intention
To cut a shape so unlike me
Those eyes so black with apathy
Insert yourself in this curtain
Close my eyes, I'm left uncertain
Veered off the path that I had woven
Forced wherever you have chosen
My life leads on right to your hand
Brush away that single strand
To you my life is vision clear
Without my eyes I'm drenched in fear
You opened up with deception
Little known was your intention
To cut a shape so unlike me
Those eyes so black with apathy
You will fall into them
Can't crawl out of them
No hopes of sight
No way to fight
So brace yourself
And pray for help
Those eyes so black with apathy
...
09.27.08
I wake up every morning to this headache of you
Beat my walls till I fall but you won't get the truth
You think this lie is all fine
Until I cut your time
Strip me down, just for now
But you still won't take me down
My head's up high, so high
For you I won't comply
So why oh why oh why
Do I even stay?
The image of me shreds your eyes
You thought you could handle me, well it's your demise
You know the red skin of my lips
Spits out anger that rips
I'll leave you in shreds
Alone in your bed
So now you feel the hurt
That I never deserved
So why oh why oh why
Do I even
Stay
Away from me
I wake up every morning to this headache of you
Beat my walls till I fall but you won't get the truth
You think this lie is all fine
Until I cut your time
Strip me down, just for now
But you still won't take me down
My head's up high, so high
For you I won't comply
So why oh why oh why
Do I even stay?
The image of me shreds your eyes
You thought you could handle me, well it's your demise
You know the red skin of my lips
Spits out anger that rips
I'll leave you in shreds
Alone in your bed
So now you feel the hurt
That I never deserved
So why oh why oh why
Do I even
Stay
Away from me
...
09.23.08
I guess my life goes on like this
Unexcited happiness
'Cause past days can't turn around
And nothing else that I have found
Have skewed my eyes so I can see
Another part inside of me
I have to open to my why's
And find out if I'm just a lie
But maybe when I open wide
Symmetry is all I'll find
That is why I'm here today
Define my life and my ways
You can't see yourself
So just be yourself
But I just appear
To be society's mirror
...
I wish I were clear
I guess my life proceeds this way
A canvas white with bits of gray
Nothing said that is profound
Not a voice but just a sound
A guilty face with no real shame
Regardless, feels it is to blame
There's nothing left to see or feel
Living my life so concealed
I guess I'd like to break away
Find myself and live with say
Do things for myself at last
And put this person in my past
You can't see yourself
So just be yourself
Then maybe I could notice
What me really is
...
Wouldn't that be fabulous?
I guess my life goes on like this
Unexcited happiness
'Cause past days can't turn around
And nothing else that I have found
Have skewed my eyes so I can see
Another part inside of me
I have to open to my why's
And find out if I'm just a lie
But maybe when I open wide
Symmetry is all I'll find
That is why I'm here today
Define my life and my ways
You can't see yourself
So just be yourself
But I just appear
To be society's mirror
...
I wish I were clear
I guess my life proceeds this way
A canvas white with bits of gray
Nothing said that is profound
Not a voice but just a sound
A guilty face with no real shame
Regardless, feels it is to blame
There's nothing left to see or feel
Living my life so concealed
I guess I'd like to break away
Find myself and live with say
Do things for myself at last
And put this person in my past
You can't see yourself
So just be yourself
Then maybe I could notice
What me really is
...
Wouldn't that be fabulous?
...
08.27.08
I'm so thirsty. Thirsty for something better. Something to quench my life. Something to fill my body with invigorating taste. but what can I say? My life has never tasted more bland.
I'm so thirsty. Thirsty for something better. Something to quench my life. Something to fill my body with invigorating taste. but what can I say? My life has never tasted more bland.
...
08.11.08
I guess the first thing that happens when I wake up is I taste the weather. I taste it in my hair, on my fingertips and across my stomach. I digest it and feel my mood. The world is painful you know. Like running down a rocky hill. The rocks twisting your ankles and grazing your skin. God forbid that you should fall. Perhaps to a happy ending. Perhaps not.
The sky shakes my mind. Tells me to be a better person. I've always failed to comply. Maybe that's why my skin is stained with bland memories. Gray turned to brown. Drifting smoothness.
The clouds scream at me with their light silence. That peace I've never achieved. Maybe that's why my pupils are too dilated and I feel that instant stab as the clouds let the light skitter through playfully. And that light is the very essence of my pain. That I am not. That I will never be. That which escapes my heart and any realm of comprehension.
And that is another today and probably another tomorrow. Definitely was the past forever yesterdays. I'm only a child you know. My brain leaks with potential. Potential for society. But no potential for life.
I've forgotten my name. My true name. The one the sky calls me. I've forgotten how to listen. And forgotten how to see, smell, feel or taste. My friends say I'm pretty and that boy says I'm beautiful but the sky knows I'm ugly. I'm ugly as hell.
I only care about being seen. Becoming something to recognize and to expect. A stain that you can't wash out. I starve myself by eating too much and I'm forever tired from sleeping all I want. I'm a mundane crinkle in the film of life.
I guess the first thing that happens when I wake up is I taste the weather. I taste it in my hair, on my fingertips and across my stomach. I digest it and feel my mood. The world is painful you know. Like running down a rocky hill. The rocks twisting your ankles and grazing your skin. God forbid that you should fall. Perhaps to a happy ending. Perhaps not.
The sky shakes my mind. Tells me to be a better person. I've always failed to comply. Maybe that's why my skin is stained with bland memories. Gray turned to brown. Drifting smoothness.
The clouds scream at me with their light silence. That peace I've never achieved. Maybe that's why my pupils are too dilated and I feel that instant stab as the clouds let the light skitter through playfully. And that light is the very essence of my pain. That I am not. That I will never be. That which escapes my heart and any realm of comprehension.
And that is another today and probably another tomorrow. Definitely was the past forever yesterdays. I'm only a child you know. My brain leaks with potential. Potential for society. But no potential for life.
I've forgotten my name. My true name. The one the sky calls me. I've forgotten how to listen. And forgotten how to see, smell, feel or taste. My friends say I'm pretty and that boy says I'm beautiful but the sky knows I'm ugly. I'm ugly as hell.
I only care about being seen. Becoming something to recognize and to expect. A stain that you can't wash out. I starve myself by eating too much and I'm forever tired from sleeping all I want. I'm a mundane crinkle in the film of life.
...
08.11.08
Secretly enveloping you
Constantly sucked in by you
Never know what I might do
With myself stuck into you
I can't stop to think
You always exhilirate me
Constantly easing me
Eyes softening at me
Maybe you're just teasing me
I can't stop to think
Hardly remember yesterday
I just want to get away
Can't get in touch anyways
My life ends from yours today
So I can think for awhile
Because I miss myself
Secretly enveloping you
Constantly sucked in by you
Never know what I might do
With myself stuck into you
I can't stop to think
You always exhilirate me
Constantly easing me
Eyes softening at me
Maybe you're just teasing me
I can't stop to think
Hardly remember yesterday
I just want to get away
Can't get in touch anyways
My life ends from yours today
So I can think for awhile
Because I miss myself
...
08.09.08
I woke up mourning
I woke up dead today
I'd aged a thousand years
Or more
I flinch when you are nice
You kill me with a single word
When angels fuck and devils kiss
I'm sure
I'll bask in your forever
You just waste my time
I want to drag you down with me
I wanted to help destroy the world
I wanted to be that special girl
Everybody's got a little something to hide but me
Everybody's got a little someone to crush but me
I'm living in humid teenage mediocrity
Everybody's got a little someone to trust but me
I dreamed that I was you
I dreamed my ego died
Sad, who loves you more than I do?
I know you lied
I'll bask in your forever
Fucking waste of time
Angels fuck and devils screw
I wanted to heal me and then destroy the world
Piss in your heart and be that special girl
Everybody's got a little something to hide but me
Everybody's got a little someone to crush but me
I'm living in teenage negative mediocrity
Everybody's got a little someone to trust but me.
I woke up mourning
I woke up dead today
I'd aged a thousand years
Or more
I flinch when you are nice
You kill me with a single word
When angels fuck and devils kiss
I'm sure
I'll bask in your forever
You just waste my time
I want to drag you down with me
I wanted to help destroy the world
I wanted to be that special girl
Everybody's got a little something to hide but me
Everybody's got a little someone to crush but me
I'm living in humid teenage mediocrity
Everybody's got a little someone to trust but me
I dreamed that I was you
I dreamed my ego died
Sad, who loves you more than I do?
I know you lied
I'll bask in your forever
Fucking waste of time
Angels fuck and devils screw
I wanted to heal me and then destroy the world
Piss in your heart and be that special girl
Everybody's got a little something to hide but me
Everybody's got a little someone to crush but me
I'm living in teenage negative mediocrity
Everybody's got a little someone to trust but me.
...
06.18.08
And today I cried. There was no comfort to be found. My beaten up couch couldn't fit my body. Not like you do. But you weren't there because you were busy trying to comfort someone else. Yourself. I hit you and I hit you hard. Your face, marred and swollen, could never look back at me.
And maybe I had really hoped that I would miss. I didn't want to hit you, but I can't listen to myself. I don't seem to be able to. I listen to someone else, that bitch, the one who hates me. The one who wants to destroy every bit of me which means she must destroy you. She knows you're taking me away. That I'm holding you so close. But that can't happen. She must ruin everything.
And then the guilt hit. It hit harder than I hit you. My body stops, takes a breath and then it fulminates with sobs. As she consoles me I no longer listen to her because it's NOT okay. If only I had been able to disregard her utterances before. Before I could break you.
And I tried to make it better but my touches were nocent and my tears stung you. You couldn't see me or you would have noticed that my eyes were telling the truth. It wasn't me. It was her. And I'm still behind this face... occasionally.
And I hope you come back and stay with me. I promise I will hit that bitch before I ever hit you again. I love you more than the whole world. You can help me escape from her.
And then maybe our tears will evaporate and never return.
And today I cried. There was no comfort to be found. My beaten up couch couldn't fit my body. Not like you do. But you weren't there because you were busy trying to comfort someone else. Yourself. I hit you and I hit you hard. Your face, marred and swollen, could never look back at me.
And maybe I had really hoped that I would miss. I didn't want to hit you, but I can't listen to myself. I don't seem to be able to. I listen to someone else, that bitch, the one who hates me. The one who wants to destroy every bit of me which means she must destroy you. She knows you're taking me away. That I'm holding you so close. But that can't happen. She must ruin everything.
And then the guilt hit. It hit harder than I hit you. My body stops, takes a breath and then it fulminates with sobs. As she consoles me I no longer listen to her because it's NOT okay. If only I had been able to disregard her utterances before. Before I could break you.
And I tried to make it better but my touches were nocent and my tears stung you. You couldn't see me or you would have noticed that my eyes were telling the truth. It wasn't me. It was her. And I'm still behind this face... occasionally.
And I hope you come back and stay with me. I promise I will hit that bitch before I ever hit you again. I love you more than the whole world. You can help me escape from her.
And then maybe our tears will evaporate and never return.
...
06.18.08
Dylan: I want to die when there’s rain. The rain will wash away the tears.
Mason: But the tears will pool around you and surround you in sorrow and misery.
Dylan: But by then I’ll be gone. I don’t intend on staying for more than a second after I die.
Mason: Where will you go?
Dylan: Nowhere in particular, somewhere different I suppose…. To the night maybe.
Mason: Why? The night can’t stay forever.
Dylan: It’s always night somewhere in the world. At least I won’t be able to see that I have no shadow… or perhaps I am one.
Mason: Eventually you have to go to the light. Isn’t that the point of death? To find the light?
Dylan: Everyone always goes towards the light. The light blinds you and prevents you from seeing into the dark. Maybe that’s where the truth is. I need to protect myself I need to be able to see.
Mason: Everyone follows the light for a reason. It leads you to Heaven.
Dylan: Have you ever considered that Heaven never appealed to me?
Mason: Is it not preferable to Hell?
Dylan: How so?
Mason: An eternal cycle of pain as opposed to complete happiness? It’s not difficult to say which is better.
Dylan: Maybe to you happiness is the ultimate goal. I don’t think there’d be any point to existence without feeling at least some form of pain. My equilibrium would dissolve. I need to stay balanced or I may fall into an abyss of unconscious existence.
Mason: Would that not relieve you? To take a rest and sleep for awhile?
Dylan: Sleep has always been a restraint of my human body and once I’m rid of it I see no need for sleep.
Mason: I find sleep to be the only way to escape the troubles of this world.
Dylan: I just see it as a way of forgetting for awhile but that makes it so much worse when you remember.
Mason: At least you’re not in constant pain.
Dylan: If it’s constant I can learn to ignore it. Constant pain is much better than random stabs.
Mason: But death would have no pain. Eternal sleep, you’ll never wake up.
Dylan: Then you won’t be able to think.
Mason: Maybe I don’t want to think.
Dylan: Then how can you even register that you’re not in pain? How do you know that you’re still there?
Mason: Because you can dream.
Dylan: Well I dream too, but unlike you I can follow those dreams and make them reality.
Mason: Those aren’t the kind of dreams I’m talking about. My dreams are for escaping what’s really going on; nothing to do with my aspirations.
Dylan: Dreams aren’t my aspirations, they’re my subconscious thoughts. It’s the ability to let go of the structured thinking that society has implanted in us. You let yourself go and you dream and if you can only accomplish that while you sleep then you don’t know how to actually think.
Mason: I don’t understand what you mean.
Dylan: Well I guess it’s like a song. The lyrics are like your conscious thoughts; they’re obvious, easy to understand. But then there’s the music; it’s a lot less obvious, more abstract, and less direct but it’s much more intense. It’s the whole essence of the song, without the music the lyrics are much less meaningful. If you can’t dream at will you’re missing the essence of life.
Mason: So does that make music an escape for you?
Dylan: No, it’s the outlet of my dreams. When I can’t express through words I express through sounds and feelings. When you listen to a song you’re listening to a dream.
Mason: Then when can you ever escape?
Dylan: I don’t and I don’t want to. The beauty of life is expression and the beauty of death is expression. I learn to feel and I learn to appreciate every feeling, it’s what makes me human. What else could be the point of life?
Mason: I think life is a test. It prepares you for death but when it’s over you don’t have to suffer anymore. You just sleep.
Dylan: Then what would you be preparing for if death is just nothing but no feelings or true existence.
Mason: You prepare for nothing by doing something. If you know it’s just over when you die you’ll live life to the fullest.
Dylan: By escaping from feelings you’re living life to the fullest? It just seems like you’re hiding from it.
Mason: I only hide from the feelings that bring me down.
Dylan: Emotions can’t bring you down. They lift you above a mundane existence.
Mason: Even hate?
Dylan: Without hate you can’t love and without sadness you can’t feel joy. Contrast allows you to see things more clearly.
Mason: And what if you could only feel one emotion?
Dylan: Then that emotion would be nothing. You wouldn’t be able to define it or even really feel it.
Mason: You still feel it, regardless if you’ve known any other.
Dylan: Contrast and variety is everything. The more colours you have in a picture the more detail there will be. The fewer colours there are the less you can see. If a picture only has one colour, and one shade, you see nothing.
Mason: I’ve seen people who’ve lost their sight. They seem to get along fine.
Dylan: It’s not like losing a sense. That’s a really terrible thing to happen and you’ll miss what you had, but eventually you learn to deal with it and continue living your life. Losing your emotions is like losing your soul.
Mason: Your life isn’t defined by your emotions, they’re unnecessary. If your brain still functions and your body remains complete you will live.
Dylan: Then you’re not really leading a full life anymore. Your life becomes empty and with nothing for you to express life becomes monotonous. That is merely subsistence, you may still be alive, but you’re not truly living.
Mason: Life is monotonous anyways, you eat, you sleep and you wake to a life of pain. Death will free you from all that.
Dylan: If you just want to sleep why are you even still here? Why haven’t you left? Why are you alive? It seems like you’re scared of death and scared of facing the truth. Death is more than life and that scares you because you can’t handle life as it is.
Mason: You love life because you think there’s a point to it. You also love death because you think that it’s something to relish. I don’t see it the same. Life has always just been there, something forced upon me that I need to go through with. Death is just the end of that. I want to just sleep because life was never enjoyable to me. I hate my identity. If death is something more, I will live eternally with hatred towards what I am. I stay here for other reasons. I stay here because of who I love, not because of life itself.
Dylan: Love for others is enough beauty to mask all the abominable things in this world.
Mason: Love is the most powerful emotion; it makes me scared to die.
Dylan: Those who love you will always find you and when you die you’ll be with them eternally.
Mason: The way you describe it, you make death sound beautiful.
Dylan: Perhaps it is. I hear tomorrow calls for rain.
Dylan: I want to die when there’s rain. The rain will wash away the tears.
Mason: But the tears will pool around you and surround you in sorrow and misery.
Dylan: But by then I’ll be gone. I don’t intend on staying for more than a second after I die.
Mason: Where will you go?
Dylan: Nowhere in particular, somewhere different I suppose…. To the night maybe.
Mason: Why? The night can’t stay forever.
Dylan: It’s always night somewhere in the world. At least I won’t be able to see that I have no shadow… or perhaps I am one.
Mason: Eventually you have to go to the light. Isn’t that the point of death? To find the light?
Dylan: Everyone always goes towards the light. The light blinds you and prevents you from seeing into the dark. Maybe that’s where the truth is. I need to protect myself I need to be able to see.
Mason: Everyone follows the light for a reason. It leads you to Heaven.
Dylan: Have you ever considered that Heaven never appealed to me?
Mason: Is it not preferable to Hell?
Dylan: How so?
Mason: An eternal cycle of pain as opposed to complete happiness? It’s not difficult to say which is better.
Dylan: Maybe to you happiness is the ultimate goal. I don’t think there’d be any point to existence without feeling at least some form of pain. My equilibrium would dissolve. I need to stay balanced or I may fall into an abyss of unconscious existence.
Mason: Would that not relieve you? To take a rest and sleep for awhile?
Dylan: Sleep has always been a restraint of my human body and once I’m rid of it I see no need for sleep.
Mason: I find sleep to be the only way to escape the troubles of this world.
Dylan: I just see it as a way of forgetting for awhile but that makes it so much worse when you remember.
Mason: At least you’re not in constant pain.
Dylan: If it’s constant I can learn to ignore it. Constant pain is much better than random stabs.
Mason: But death would have no pain. Eternal sleep, you’ll never wake up.
Dylan: Then you won’t be able to think.
Mason: Maybe I don’t want to think.
Dylan: Then how can you even register that you’re not in pain? How do you know that you’re still there?
Mason: Because you can dream.
Dylan: Well I dream too, but unlike you I can follow those dreams and make them reality.
Mason: Those aren’t the kind of dreams I’m talking about. My dreams are for escaping what’s really going on; nothing to do with my aspirations.
Dylan: Dreams aren’t my aspirations, they’re my subconscious thoughts. It’s the ability to let go of the structured thinking that society has implanted in us. You let yourself go and you dream and if you can only accomplish that while you sleep then you don’t know how to actually think.
Mason: I don’t understand what you mean.
Dylan: Well I guess it’s like a song. The lyrics are like your conscious thoughts; they’re obvious, easy to understand. But then there’s the music; it’s a lot less obvious, more abstract, and less direct but it’s much more intense. It’s the whole essence of the song, without the music the lyrics are much less meaningful. If you can’t dream at will you’re missing the essence of life.
Mason: So does that make music an escape for you?
Dylan: No, it’s the outlet of my dreams. When I can’t express through words I express through sounds and feelings. When you listen to a song you’re listening to a dream.
Mason: Then when can you ever escape?
Dylan: I don’t and I don’t want to. The beauty of life is expression and the beauty of death is expression. I learn to feel and I learn to appreciate every feeling, it’s what makes me human. What else could be the point of life?
Mason: I think life is a test. It prepares you for death but when it’s over you don’t have to suffer anymore. You just sleep.
Dylan: Then what would you be preparing for if death is just nothing but no feelings or true existence.
Mason: You prepare for nothing by doing something. If you know it’s just over when you die you’ll live life to the fullest.
Dylan: By escaping from feelings you’re living life to the fullest? It just seems like you’re hiding from it.
Mason: I only hide from the feelings that bring me down.
Dylan: Emotions can’t bring you down. They lift you above a mundane existence.
Mason: Even hate?
Dylan: Without hate you can’t love and without sadness you can’t feel joy. Contrast allows you to see things more clearly.
Mason: And what if you could only feel one emotion?
Dylan: Then that emotion would be nothing. You wouldn’t be able to define it or even really feel it.
Mason: You still feel it, regardless if you’ve known any other.
Dylan: Contrast and variety is everything. The more colours you have in a picture the more detail there will be. The fewer colours there are the less you can see. If a picture only has one colour, and one shade, you see nothing.
Mason: I’ve seen people who’ve lost their sight. They seem to get along fine.
Dylan: It’s not like losing a sense. That’s a really terrible thing to happen and you’ll miss what you had, but eventually you learn to deal with it and continue living your life. Losing your emotions is like losing your soul.
Mason: Your life isn’t defined by your emotions, they’re unnecessary. If your brain still functions and your body remains complete you will live.
Dylan: Then you’re not really leading a full life anymore. Your life becomes empty and with nothing for you to express life becomes monotonous. That is merely subsistence, you may still be alive, but you’re not truly living.
Mason: Life is monotonous anyways, you eat, you sleep and you wake to a life of pain. Death will free you from all that.
Dylan: If you just want to sleep why are you even still here? Why haven’t you left? Why are you alive? It seems like you’re scared of death and scared of facing the truth. Death is more than life and that scares you because you can’t handle life as it is.
Mason: You love life because you think there’s a point to it. You also love death because you think that it’s something to relish. I don’t see it the same. Life has always just been there, something forced upon me that I need to go through with. Death is just the end of that. I want to just sleep because life was never enjoyable to me. I hate my identity. If death is something more, I will live eternally with hatred towards what I am. I stay here for other reasons. I stay here because of who I love, not because of life itself.
Dylan: Love for others is enough beauty to mask all the abominable things in this world.
Mason: Love is the most powerful emotion; it makes me scared to die.
Dylan: Those who love you will always find you and when you die you’ll be with them eternally.
Mason: The way you describe it, you make death sound beautiful.
Dylan: Perhaps it is. I hear tomorrow calls for rain.
...
06.11.08
Estranged thoughts surround my mind asking who we are
Golden leaves flutter down, dancing tunes across the sky
Flecks of light skitter across my irises of blue
Words are forming on your lips and I know I love you too
Brightening rays bounce against my upturned palms
Cirrus clouds flit playfully, sweeping through the heavens
Cascades of sound swoop in and engulf the air
My gaze intensifies yet softens, divulging how much I care
The wind begins conducting the dances of the trees
Swirling dust strokes my dress and drifts lazily away
I smile, breathing in the scent of new
This moment should be eternal; eternally with you
Estranged thoughts surround my mind asking who we are
Golden leaves flutter down, dancing tunes across the sky
Flecks of light skitter across my irises of blue
Words are forming on your lips and I know I love you too
Brightening rays bounce against my upturned palms
Cirrus clouds flit playfully, sweeping through the heavens
Cascades of sound swoop in and engulf the air
My gaze intensifies yet softens, divulging how much I care
The wind begins conducting the dances of the trees
Swirling dust strokes my dress and drifts lazily away
I smile, breathing in the scent of new
This moment should be eternal; eternally with you
...
06.08.08
Stayed up three quarters of the night
Drinking tea with lime
I couldn't see in the mirror
It was fogged and blurred my sight
My effigy looks back at me
with a solemn stare
but I can't clear it or endear it
I'm afraid I'll never be set free
Stayed up three quarters of the night
Drinking tea with lime
I couldn't see in the mirror
It was fogged and blurred my sight
My effigy looks back at me
with a solemn stare
but I can't clear it or endear it
I'm afraid I'll never be set free
...
06.07.08
I have been awake for over an hour but the idea of actually getting out of bed isn’t really inviting. I normally lay here for hours after actually waking up. This is my hideout, my sanctuary; this is where I stay to avoid all my problems. Its only noon anyways, so why should I get up? Hell, I could lay here for a few more hours before anyone would bother coming to get me.
I can hear my mom walking around downstairs. She’s probably been up for a good 4 or 5 hours. Whatever, it’s not like she really wants me around her anyways. We don’t get along. It wouldn’t be much of a stretch to say we hate each other. I try to tolerate her but sometimes she just pisses me off.
In here everything seems so simple. My room is really pretty. My walls are a happy yellow and my bedding and curtains are red and orange. It seems so energized compared to the drab world outside. My life isn’t exactly fun at the moment. Actually it’s pretty much the opposite, although my mom would just say I’m full of too much angst.
Maybe I should just call Shane and say I’m not feeling too well. That way I won’t have to head to his house to hang out and he won’t feel that I ditched, even though I totally would be. I mean Shane’s great, and he’s one of my best friends but seeing his friends just makes me feel sick. I can’t stand being around them. Not because there’s anything wrong with them, but because there’s something obviously wrong with me. I do not fit in with them at all.
When I’m around them I can’t fucking talk. If I say anything it feels stupid and pointless and they look at me like I’m an idiot. I can’t stand it. Why can’t I just be funny and amazingly interesting? And as an added bonus why couldn’t I be one of those extraordinarily pretty girls? That would always help. But no I’m just one of those plain, boring people who are decent at everything but have lame interests that no one gives a shit about. I don’t have much to work with.
I don’t think that it helps that I’m pretty much in love with one of them. Well love is a huge over exaggeration but you get what I’m saying.
I always wonder why I think he’s so great or why I’m even attracted to him. Most people would probably say its indefinable. I, however, disagree. I know why I noticed him, but I wish that wasn’t why. It’s always the reason why I fall for boys and I wish that for once it could be different. I barely know him.
I never get to know a guy before I like him. Maybe I live on the notion that as I get to know him he’ll think I’m amazing and he’ll like me as well. Because what’s the chance that a guy will just suddenly like you when he’s known you forever and you haven’t changed? Practically zero. At least this way I can convince myself that I might stand a chance. The only problem with this is that I’m always the one who’s disappointed. He always turns out to be a jerk, or someone I would never be able to connect with.
But what really makes me notice a boy in the first place is when I think he has noticed me. Like when he looks at me for about a second longer than he looks at anyone else. Or when he actually sees you and takes notice. The only problem is that I always imagine that it happens, when it really never has.
I remember talking to him about something but I wasn’t really looking at him because at this point I hadn’t even noticed how amazing he was. Then I looked over at him and I don’t even know what happened. Magically I realized he was friggen gorgeous. He was looking at me like I was pretty and it made me feel pretty. I never feel pretty.
So that’s how it happened. Stupid isn’t it? I basically like him for how he made me feel, in that one split second. He doesn’t even look at me like that anymore, but all I keep remembering is that he did, once, and I probably just imagined it.
And that’s as far as my life has proceeded in these last 4 months. Nothing has happened. I have really been trying to get him to notice me, but I must be invisible.
The clock now says 12:45 and I know that I need to call Shane or else get the hell out of bed. Great, my phone isn’t even in the holder because I left it downstairs after talking to London.
London is my best friend. Well one of them. It’s nearly impossible to decide which one is actually the best. I mean seriously, what even defines a good friend? But that’s a whole other subject that I really don’t feel like exploring right now. I just know that I’m not one of them.
I’m really cold without my blanket and seeing as I’m really smart I’m only wearing a tank top and shorts. Thank god my slippers are right here so my feet don’t freeze. I leave my room and I jump down the last few stairs and nearly land on my dog. She runs away, her fat bouncing on her sides.
I go down another flight of stairs and go to the computer desk to find my phone. It’s not there. I shift the papers on the desk. Still no phone. I remember sitting on the couch last night while talking to London. I turn around, the phone isn’t there. I pull out the cushions, and voila! There’s my phone. Great, it’s been turned on all night and the battery is almost dead.
I go back up the stairs and stop in the living room to grab another phone. I dial Shane’s number. It rings once and he answers it. I always find that really strange, what does he do all day? Sit there and wait for people to phone him?
“Hi Shane.”
“Hey, when are you coming? Everyone else is already here”
“Uhh…. I’m not sure. I just woke up and I need to shower and get ready. I’m not feeling too hot right now.”
“Well I thought you and London were coming together?”
“Oh shit. I totally forgot she was coming. Ugh, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
I hang up and go back to my room and grab some clothes. I guess I’ll have to go because of London. Five minutes later I’m in the shower and the water is quickly warming me up. I wash my hair and quickly shave. I turn off the water and towel myself dry and wrap the towel around my head. I pull on some capris and a cute tank top. I walk over to the mirror.
I look at myself. As usual I don’t look too great. My face is red and broken out. I feel like crying. I reach over to the shelf and pull out my makeup. I quickly go to work covering up my imperfections. I powder my face. Now I don’t look so terrible. I grab some eyeliner and gently glide it along my top lashes. I pull out an eye shadow brush and sweep the wine coloured powder onto my eyelids, blending the colour up to my brows. I pull out the eyelash curlers and give them a quick curl.
My eyes are the only thing I like about my looks. They are a gorgeous blue or green depending on the day. Today they are blue and as I look at myself in the mirror they are the only thing you can possibly notice about my face. They have a great contrast to my dark brown hair and my eyelashes, which are super long, frame them perfectly.
I stand back and look at myself. Maybe today I’ll be noticeable. I doubt it though. I always feel like I’m just sort of there; in the way. I’m the sort of person you’d just walk by without actually looking at. I always envy those people who make you want to stare. I want to be one of those girls who can wear a Mohawk and combat boots with ease, with their piercings glittering at you. I want to be a punk rocker. Sadly, I’m not pretty enough to pull it off.
I grab my purse and pull on my high tops and book it out the door. I hate living in this crap neighborhood when all of my friends live elsewhere. I’m not one to want to spend any of my little cash on the bus so I’m stuck walking. I pull on my headphones and crank up my music. I flip through my songs until I find a particularly loud and angry one and I start to walk just a bit quicker.
These long walks always get me thinking, and today is no different. The music chooses my pace and thankfully most of my music is hard and fast so I don’t take ages to get there. As I listen to the songs I truly wish that I had some sort of musical talent. I love writing and poetry; creating metaphors and symbolisms and drawing an image in the reader’s mind. To me music is just like that. The words tell the story but the music manipulates your thoughts and changes your opinions. It sets the tone and mood and makes you consider their opinions differently. I love it.
I look up and notice I’m getting near my high school. I’m glad I’m out for the summer but I also miss the people I don’t see outside of school. I don’t particularly miss the classes though seeing as I’m a slacker and can’t manage my time whatsoever.
I turn my music to a slower song and slacken my pace a bit. I want to slow my body down before I get there. I really doubt he fancies panting girls with bright red faces. I compulsively start fiddling with my hair trying to tell if any of it has been blown out of place. I really can’t tell and start worrying that I might look stupid when I show up. I start chewing on my fingernails. They hurt, but I can’t stop. I look down and they’re uneven. I want to cry. I don’t know why, these stupid little things shouldn’t bother me.
I’m only two blocks away and I start to feel sick. I try to concentrate on my breathing and tell my body to calm down. It’s working a bit. I reach in my purse and grab some lip gloss and quickly apply it. It makes me feel more confident. My steps get bigger and I remember to act beautiful. If I pretend, I might be able to convince him that I actually am beautiful.
I walk up the steps and ring the doorbell trying to look nonchalantly away. I don’t want him to notice that I’ve noticed him. I want him to notice me because I’m me. I’m starting to confuse myself and try to stop my brain from making no sense. Before my thoughts have been able to rearrange themselves, Shane opens the door.
I can’t seem to breathe properly and I feel really sick. I somehow manage to force myself to smile at Shane and walk in the door. I make sure not to look into the living room in case he’s in there. I untie my shoes and kick them off. Then I turn and slowly walk into the living room, concentrating on not looking at him. I sit down. I quietly greet everyone and then I look at Shane and say in a slightly sardonic tone, “I was supposed to call London once I got here so she didn’t have to sit around with you lot and feel totally awkward.”
Shane smiled. He knew my sense of humour was bitchy-casual and went to get me a phone. I took it from him and dialed London. “Get your ass over here before I die. You know how much I fancy sitting around with this bunch of idiots.”
She laughed. “I’ll be there in about 5 minutes. I hope you can survive that long”
I hang up the phone. He says something. I accidentally look at him and I am blown away once again.
There he was. Tall, trendy and gorgeous. Aaron. The hottest guy I’ve ever seen. He was looking at me and I really hope that I didn’t give myself away. I notice my cheeks are turning pink and quickly look at my hands.
Five minutes of agony. I make sure not to even look in his general direction. I hear the doorbell and leap to my feet. I open the door and fling my arms around London. We both squeal with over exaggerated happiness. We want to look impressive.
She pokes her head inside and says, “Yeah we’ll just be outside for about 5 minutes, I need to talk to my gorgey pal.” I shut the door and we walk out into the middle of the lawn and sit down.
“So??? What’s in your brain at the moment??” I ask. I’m exceptionally curious as to what she has to tell me that can’t be heard by ‘The Lads’ as we refer to them.
“I just want to know if we’ve got any plans to trap the gorgeous blokes inside that house. I mean you’ve pretty much got it guaranteed that Aaron will be after you, but what about me? I’m pretty sure Cayden doesn’t even like me. Not even remotely. I need something to make him go ‘phwaaaa she’s gorgeous’.” I laugh at her craziness.
“Guaranteed that he’ll be after me? I’m pretty sure I ruined any hope of him wanting me at all. I mean he caught me looking at him. He’s bound to think I’m a creeper now. Plus boys don’t even like me so can you stop making it seem like every boy is madly in love with me?”
“Well honestly, you need to stop acting like they don’t. You have had countless boys following you around wanting to date you while I’ve been sitting here getting nothing. You have no idea how lucky you are.”
“Well I hope you’re right but honestly, I barely know most of them, so why would I want to date them? Plus I’m sure lots of guys like you. They’re probably just too shy to tell you.”
“First off, you barely know Aaron so why do you want to date him? And secondly, I know you’re just saying that to make me feel better. I know guys don’t generally like me, which is why I need ideas, sooooo do you have any?”
“Just be funny and happy and smile a lot? I have no idea, I’m not an expert.”
“Fine, let’s try that and see what happens.”
I watch London stand up and plaster a huge smile on her face and start laughing. I follow her back to the house and we walk in together. We both start laughing as if we had just shared an awesome joke and I gently tug off my sweater to reveal my shoulders.
The Lads look up at us and I blush. Aaron is looking directly at me. I want him to look at me but at the same time I don’t. I’m scared that if he looks at me he might notice that I’m not pretty. I don’t want him to notice that.
I quickly pull my sweater back up realizing that I’m not comfortable with my body. I quickly zip it up and go into the kitchen. I feel like crying. Why can’t I just have a beautiful body that I could love? But no, I’m stuck with this crap one.
I grab a glass of water and walk back out into the living room. I purposefully walk to the opposite side of the room so I don’t have to sit next to Aaron or potentially talk to him. That would be disastrous. He’d probably think I’m some sort of annoying idiot.
I start talking to London and the conversation quickly turns to random funny moments that have happened to us. We both are laughing incredibly hard in order to appear interesting and amusing. When the guys ask us what we’re laughing at we just pretend we’re laughing too hard to speak. I don’t want them to know what we’re laughing at in case they don’t find it funny.
The guys start playing video games so we both stop laughing. We feel hurt because we’re being ignored. Why don’t they want to talk to us? Why don’t they like us? I feel like such a lame reject.
Shane walks over and starts to talk to us. He’s a nice guy, he really is, but we’re not interested in him in that way. I can’t really say why, but I’ve never been attracted to him.
He’s my shelter in situations like this. I talk to him because I can be comfortable around him and I rarely feel comfortable around guys. This is how it will be the entire time until we leave. We will talk to Shane until we leave and feel like shit because the guys we want don’t even see us.
~*~
I’m now sitting in the backseat of a car on my way to London’s house and London is sitting beside me. We never say much on the rides home because we don’t want her mom to hear us. We’re pulling up to her house and as the car stops we undo our seatbelts. I open the door and step carefully out of her car. I reach back in and grab my purse and then firmly close the door.
I’m behind London as she opens the door into her porch and we go inside and take off our shoes.
We take off towards the stairs and practically leap down the whole flight.
“Want some chips or something? Pop maybe?” London asks me.
“Sure”
I collapse on the futon and start digging through my bag. I pull out my journal and start writing a poem but I get stuck. I look at the paper and realize the words mean nothing and quickly scratch them out. I close my journal and chuck it on the floor......
To be continued..
I have been awake for over an hour but the idea of actually getting out of bed isn’t really inviting. I normally lay here for hours after actually waking up. This is my hideout, my sanctuary; this is where I stay to avoid all my problems. Its only noon anyways, so why should I get up? Hell, I could lay here for a few more hours before anyone would bother coming to get me.
I can hear my mom walking around downstairs. She’s probably been up for a good 4 or 5 hours. Whatever, it’s not like she really wants me around her anyways. We don’t get along. It wouldn’t be much of a stretch to say we hate each other. I try to tolerate her but sometimes she just pisses me off.
In here everything seems so simple. My room is really pretty. My walls are a happy yellow and my bedding and curtains are red and orange. It seems so energized compared to the drab world outside. My life isn’t exactly fun at the moment. Actually it’s pretty much the opposite, although my mom would just say I’m full of too much angst.
Maybe I should just call Shane and say I’m not feeling too well. That way I won’t have to head to his house to hang out and he won’t feel that I ditched, even though I totally would be. I mean Shane’s great, and he’s one of my best friends but seeing his friends just makes me feel sick. I can’t stand being around them. Not because there’s anything wrong with them, but because there’s something obviously wrong with me. I do not fit in with them at all.
When I’m around them I can’t fucking talk. If I say anything it feels stupid and pointless and they look at me like I’m an idiot. I can’t stand it. Why can’t I just be funny and amazingly interesting? And as an added bonus why couldn’t I be one of those extraordinarily pretty girls? That would always help. But no I’m just one of those plain, boring people who are decent at everything but have lame interests that no one gives a shit about. I don’t have much to work with.
I don’t think that it helps that I’m pretty much in love with one of them. Well love is a huge over exaggeration but you get what I’m saying.
I always wonder why I think he’s so great or why I’m even attracted to him. Most people would probably say its indefinable. I, however, disagree. I know why I noticed him, but I wish that wasn’t why. It’s always the reason why I fall for boys and I wish that for once it could be different. I barely know him.
I never get to know a guy before I like him. Maybe I live on the notion that as I get to know him he’ll think I’m amazing and he’ll like me as well. Because what’s the chance that a guy will just suddenly like you when he’s known you forever and you haven’t changed? Practically zero. At least this way I can convince myself that I might stand a chance. The only problem with this is that I’m always the one who’s disappointed. He always turns out to be a jerk, or someone I would never be able to connect with.
But what really makes me notice a boy in the first place is when I think he has noticed me. Like when he looks at me for about a second longer than he looks at anyone else. Or when he actually sees you and takes notice. The only problem is that I always imagine that it happens, when it really never has.
I remember talking to him about something but I wasn’t really looking at him because at this point I hadn’t even noticed how amazing he was. Then I looked over at him and I don’t even know what happened. Magically I realized he was friggen gorgeous. He was looking at me like I was pretty and it made me feel pretty. I never feel pretty.
So that’s how it happened. Stupid isn’t it? I basically like him for how he made me feel, in that one split second. He doesn’t even look at me like that anymore, but all I keep remembering is that he did, once, and I probably just imagined it.
And that’s as far as my life has proceeded in these last 4 months. Nothing has happened. I have really been trying to get him to notice me, but I must be invisible.
The clock now says 12:45 and I know that I need to call Shane or else get the hell out of bed. Great, my phone isn’t even in the holder because I left it downstairs after talking to London.
London is my best friend. Well one of them. It’s nearly impossible to decide which one is actually the best. I mean seriously, what even defines a good friend? But that’s a whole other subject that I really don’t feel like exploring right now. I just know that I’m not one of them.
I’m really cold without my blanket and seeing as I’m really smart I’m only wearing a tank top and shorts. Thank god my slippers are right here so my feet don’t freeze. I leave my room and I jump down the last few stairs and nearly land on my dog. She runs away, her fat bouncing on her sides.
I go down another flight of stairs and go to the computer desk to find my phone. It’s not there. I shift the papers on the desk. Still no phone. I remember sitting on the couch last night while talking to London. I turn around, the phone isn’t there. I pull out the cushions, and voila! There’s my phone. Great, it’s been turned on all night and the battery is almost dead.
I go back up the stairs and stop in the living room to grab another phone. I dial Shane’s number. It rings once and he answers it. I always find that really strange, what does he do all day? Sit there and wait for people to phone him?
“Hi Shane.”
“Hey, when are you coming? Everyone else is already here”
“Uhh…. I’m not sure. I just woke up and I need to shower and get ready. I’m not feeling too hot right now.”
“Well I thought you and London were coming together?”
“Oh shit. I totally forgot she was coming. Ugh, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
I hang up and go back to my room and grab some clothes. I guess I’ll have to go because of London. Five minutes later I’m in the shower and the water is quickly warming me up. I wash my hair and quickly shave. I turn off the water and towel myself dry and wrap the towel around my head. I pull on some capris and a cute tank top. I walk over to the mirror.
I look at myself. As usual I don’t look too great. My face is red and broken out. I feel like crying. I reach over to the shelf and pull out my makeup. I quickly go to work covering up my imperfections. I powder my face. Now I don’t look so terrible. I grab some eyeliner and gently glide it along my top lashes. I pull out an eye shadow brush and sweep the wine coloured powder onto my eyelids, blending the colour up to my brows. I pull out the eyelash curlers and give them a quick curl.
My eyes are the only thing I like about my looks. They are a gorgeous blue or green depending on the day. Today they are blue and as I look at myself in the mirror they are the only thing you can possibly notice about my face. They have a great contrast to my dark brown hair and my eyelashes, which are super long, frame them perfectly.
I stand back and look at myself. Maybe today I’ll be noticeable. I doubt it though. I always feel like I’m just sort of there; in the way. I’m the sort of person you’d just walk by without actually looking at. I always envy those people who make you want to stare. I want to be one of those girls who can wear a Mohawk and combat boots with ease, with their piercings glittering at you. I want to be a punk rocker. Sadly, I’m not pretty enough to pull it off.
I grab my purse and pull on my high tops and book it out the door. I hate living in this crap neighborhood when all of my friends live elsewhere. I’m not one to want to spend any of my little cash on the bus so I’m stuck walking. I pull on my headphones and crank up my music. I flip through my songs until I find a particularly loud and angry one and I start to walk just a bit quicker.
These long walks always get me thinking, and today is no different. The music chooses my pace and thankfully most of my music is hard and fast so I don’t take ages to get there. As I listen to the songs I truly wish that I had some sort of musical talent. I love writing and poetry; creating metaphors and symbolisms and drawing an image in the reader’s mind. To me music is just like that. The words tell the story but the music manipulates your thoughts and changes your opinions. It sets the tone and mood and makes you consider their opinions differently. I love it.
I look up and notice I’m getting near my high school. I’m glad I’m out for the summer but I also miss the people I don’t see outside of school. I don’t particularly miss the classes though seeing as I’m a slacker and can’t manage my time whatsoever.
I turn my music to a slower song and slacken my pace a bit. I want to slow my body down before I get there. I really doubt he fancies panting girls with bright red faces. I compulsively start fiddling with my hair trying to tell if any of it has been blown out of place. I really can’t tell and start worrying that I might look stupid when I show up. I start chewing on my fingernails. They hurt, but I can’t stop. I look down and they’re uneven. I want to cry. I don’t know why, these stupid little things shouldn’t bother me.
I’m only two blocks away and I start to feel sick. I try to concentrate on my breathing and tell my body to calm down. It’s working a bit. I reach in my purse and grab some lip gloss and quickly apply it. It makes me feel more confident. My steps get bigger and I remember to act beautiful. If I pretend, I might be able to convince him that I actually am beautiful.
I walk up the steps and ring the doorbell trying to look nonchalantly away. I don’t want him to notice that I’ve noticed him. I want him to notice me because I’m me. I’m starting to confuse myself and try to stop my brain from making no sense. Before my thoughts have been able to rearrange themselves, Shane opens the door.
I can’t seem to breathe properly and I feel really sick. I somehow manage to force myself to smile at Shane and walk in the door. I make sure not to look into the living room in case he’s in there. I untie my shoes and kick them off. Then I turn and slowly walk into the living room, concentrating on not looking at him. I sit down. I quietly greet everyone and then I look at Shane and say in a slightly sardonic tone, “I was supposed to call London once I got here so she didn’t have to sit around with you lot and feel totally awkward.”
Shane smiled. He knew my sense of humour was bitchy-casual and went to get me a phone. I took it from him and dialed London. “Get your ass over here before I die. You know how much I fancy sitting around with this bunch of idiots.”
She laughed. “I’ll be there in about 5 minutes. I hope you can survive that long”
I hang up the phone. He says something. I accidentally look at him and I am blown away once again.
There he was. Tall, trendy and gorgeous. Aaron. The hottest guy I’ve ever seen. He was looking at me and I really hope that I didn’t give myself away. I notice my cheeks are turning pink and quickly look at my hands.
Five minutes of agony. I make sure not to even look in his general direction. I hear the doorbell and leap to my feet. I open the door and fling my arms around London. We both squeal with over exaggerated happiness. We want to look impressive.
She pokes her head inside and says, “Yeah we’ll just be outside for about 5 minutes, I need to talk to my gorgey pal.” I shut the door and we walk out into the middle of the lawn and sit down.
“So??? What’s in your brain at the moment??” I ask. I’m exceptionally curious as to what she has to tell me that can’t be heard by ‘The Lads’ as we refer to them.
“I just want to know if we’ve got any plans to trap the gorgeous blokes inside that house. I mean you’ve pretty much got it guaranteed that Aaron will be after you, but what about me? I’m pretty sure Cayden doesn’t even like me. Not even remotely. I need something to make him go ‘phwaaaa she’s gorgeous’.” I laugh at her craziness.
“Guaranteed that he’ll be after me? I’m pretty sure I ruined any hope of him wanting me at all. I mean he caught me looking at him. He’s bound to think I’m a creeper now. Plus boys don’t even like me so can you stop making it seem like every boy is madly in love with me?”
“Well honestly, you need to stop acting like they don’t. You have had countless boys following you around wanting to date you while I’ve been sitting here getting nothing. You have no idea how lucky you are.”
“Well I hope you’re right but honestly, I barely know most of them, so why would I want to date them? Plus I’m sure lots of guys like you. They’re probably just too shy to tell you.”
“First off, you barely know Aaron so why do you want to date him? And secondly, I know you’re just saying that to make me feel better. I know guys don’t generally like me, which is why I need ideas, sooooo do you have any?”
“Just be funny and happy and smile a lot? I have no idea, I’m not an expert.”
“Fine, let’s try that and see what happens.”
I watch London stand up and plaster a huge smile on her face and start laughing. I follow her back to the house and we walk in together. We both start laughing as if we had just shared an awesome joke and I gently tug off my sweater to reveal my shoulders.
The Lads look up at us and I blush. Aaron is looking directly at me. I want him to look at me but at the same time I don’t. I’m scared that if he looks at me he might notice that I’m not pretty. I don’t want him to notice that.
I quickly pull my sweater back up realizing that I’m not comfortable with my body. I quickly zip it up and go into the kitchen. I feel like crying. Why can’t I just have a beautiful body that I could love? But no, I’m stuck with this crap one.
I grab a glass of water and walk back out into the living room. I purposefully walk to the opposite side of the room so I don’t have to sit next to Aaron or potentially talk to him. That would be disastrous. He’d probably think I’m some sort of annoying idiot.
I start talking to London and the conversation quickly turns to random funny moments that have happened to us. We both are laughing incredibly hard in order to appear interesting and amusing. When the guys ask us what we’re laughing at we just pretend we’re laughing too hard to speak. I don’t want them to know what we’re laughing at in case they don’t find it funny.
The guys start playing video games so we both stop laughing. We feel hurt because we’re being ignored. Why don’t they want to talk to us? Why don’t they like us? I feel like such a lame reject.
Shane walks over and starts to talk to us. He’s a nice guy, he really is, but we’re not interested in him in that way. I can’t really say why, but I’ve never been attracted to him.
He’s my shelter in situations like this. I talk to him because I can be comfortable around him and I rarely feel comfortable around guys. This is how it will be the entire time until we leave. We will talk to Shane until we leave and feel like shit because the guys we want don’t even see us.
~*~
I’m now sitting in the backseat of a car on my way to London’s house and London is sitting beside me. We never say much on the rides home because we don’t want her mom to hear us. We’re pulling up to her house and as the car stops we undo our seatbelts. I open the door and step carefully out of her car. I reach back in and grab my purse and then firmly close the door.
I’m behind London as she opens the door into her porch and we go inside and take off our shoes.
We take off towards the stairs and practically leap down the whole flight.
“Want some chips or something? Pop maybe?” London asks me.
“Sure”
I collapse on the futon and start digging through my bag. I pull out my journal and start writing a poem but I get stuck. I look at the paper and realize the words mean nothing and quickly scratch them out. I close my journal and chuck it on the floor......
To be continued..
...
06.02.08
My life was always full
You made it overflow
Spilling from these eyes
Scathing jewels who've lost their glow
And as I twirl my life away
Clarity exchanges itself for blur
I can't make it stop or go away
Things will never be as they were
My life was always full
You made it overflow
Spilling from these eyes
Scathing jewels who've lost their glow
And as I twirl my life away
Clarity exchanges itself for blur
I can't make it stop or go away
Things will never be as they were
...
05.30.08
Maybe we weren't meant to be. It always ends in my tears and my hurt. I feel insecure and alone even when you're right there. I know I make mistakes but you never seem to forgive them. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I wanted you so bad. I thought you were beautiful and perfect. And you are beautiful. But not so perfect. When I did get you it didn't turn into what I wanted. There's always a fight and always an upset. We're both hurting. Emotionally and physically drained. I want you to understand but I don't know how to tell you. We're supposed to be a team. We're supposed to carry the same tempo. Two metronomes ticking together. But we're always off beat. I annoy you. You hurt me. I feel incompetent. I've tried to understand but it just isn't working. you won't accept that maybe you're doing something wrong. And you are. So many things. But sweetie I love you and I need desperately for this to work. Without you I have nothing. I can't do this on my own. So I'll keep trying and I'll keep failing but maybe you'll realize you have to try too. //*
I don't understand why I got myself into this. So much commitment and so many emotions. And I said I wanted this forever. Now I'm not so sure. //*
I love you so much. You are my best friend. And maybe you're not the prettiest but I can trust you. I can cry on your shoulder and tell you secrets. You always forgive me. And I gave you up for someone I thought was more beautiful. Now I cry, realizing I made such a big mistake. You were always there for me, and you still are even when I ignore you for my other. You make me smile. You make me laugh. We just fit. But I've already gone too far to change directions. I'm so sorry I never saw this before. But every second I have with you will be my happiest moments. I wish we could take on this adventure together but I made my decision and I have to stick with it. But I need you to know and acknowledge that there will never be someone else like you and no one could ever replace you. I'll remember you forever and you'll always be the one that I truly loved the most with all my heart,
Kristyn xoxoxox
Maybe we weren't meant to be. It always ends in my tears and my hurt. I feel insecure and alone even when you're right there. I know I make mistakes but you never seem to forgive them. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I wanted you so bad. I thought you were beautiful and perfect. And you are beautiful. But not so perfect. When I did get you it didn't turn into what I wanted. There's always a fight and always an upset. We're both hurting. Emotionally and physically drained. I want you to understand but I don't know how to tell you. We're supposed to be a team. We're supposed to carry the same tempo. Two metronomes ticking together. But we're always off beat. I annoy you. You hurt me. I feel incompetent. I've tried to understand but it just isn't working. you won't accept that maybe you're doing something wrong. And you are. So many things. But sweetie I love you and I need desperately for this to work. Without you I have nothing. I can't do this on my own. So I'll keep trying and I'll keep failing but maybe you'll realize you have to try too. //*
I don't understand why I got myself into this. So much commitment and so many emotions. And I said I wanted this forever. Now I'm not so sure. //*
I love you so much. You are my best friend. And maybe you're not the prettiest but I can trust you. I can cry on your shoulder and tell you secrets. You always forgive me. And I gave you up for someone I thought was more beautiful. Now I cry, realizing I made such a big mistake. You were always there for me, and you still are even when I ignore you for my other. You make me smile. You make me laugh. We just fit. But I've already gone too far to change directions. I'm so sorry I never saw this before. But every second I have with you will be my happiest moments. I wish we could take on this adventure together but I made my decision and I have to stick with it. But I need you to know and acknowledge that there will never be someone else like you and no one could ever replace you. I'll remember you forever and you'll always be the one that I truly loved the most with all my heart,
Kristyn xoxoxox
...
05.28.08
And maybe white screams pure to you
But on this blood drenched floor
Nothing so human and so raw
Could paint less than beauty
This visage drifts through your mind
Scars will never fade away; art is forever
//////////////////////////////////////////////////
I love how your life rhymes
It has that perfect meter and style
Shakespeare could have written you
Beautiful soliloquy written in Iambic Pentameter
And then there is me....
I'm not made of words
You can't enunciate me
I make no sound in your mind
Picasso could have painted me
Lopsided and unreal
But perhaps not...
I don't have that beauty
No matter how abstract
And maybe white screams pure to you
But on this blood drenched floor
Nothing so human and so raw
Could paint less than beauty
This visage drifts through your mind
Scars will never fade away; art is forever
//////////////////////////////////////////////////
I love how your life rhymes
It has that perfect meter and style
Shakespeare could have written you
Beautiful soliloquy written in Iambic Pentameter
And then there is me....
I'm not made of words
You can't enunciate me
I make no sound in your mind
Picasso could have painted me
Lopsided and unreal
But perhaps not...
I don't have that beauty
No matter how abstract
...
05.10.08
Every day the same thoughts circle through my mind. They're like my favourite CD that I can't hear enough of. My eyes smile. People ask what I'm thinking about. I tell them its nothing. These are my thoughts. My secrets. Secrets that were created with you.
I would love to scream it to the whole world, but attempting to put it into words would vanquish the affection I feel towards them. These are at the very center point of my interior. These are the only thoughts that never drift away, not even for a second. The only thoughts that won't allow me to clear my mind. They cluster before me as I try to sleep and fill my dreams with nostalgia.
I feel your warmth and inhale your scent. My heart tries to catch your beat and the thought of you lifts my soul. And then I'm pulled back into reality. You're still floating at the back of my conscious but you've been reduced to a memory. I want to bring you back, to feel you there even when you're not. My throat aches and my head pounds, I can feel my forehead creasing. But I force myself not to cry.
I can't get out of bed for fear the memories will be forgotten, even for an instant. I lay there, hugging my pillow, trying to bring you back to me. These thoughts should be real. Waking up to your angles casually holding me in place at your side. Your cheek scratching mine in a gentle way. Instead I awake to nothing; a pillow and blankets whose warmth is not nearly as fulfilling as yours.
I finally get up and peel my clothes off. I step into the pounding water that seers my skin, but this heat is not nearly as intense as yours. As the water evaporates I write your name in a heart on the steamy shower wall and smile to myself. The hot water pours down my back trying to relax my aching muscles. It fails because my entire being never stops aching for you.
Every day when I get home I hope for a hint that you're thinking of me too. I hope that you understand this pain and this pleasure, combined into a warped sense of fear that has been trapped by ecstacy. The ache hurts but without it I'd be lost. Its the only thing that keeps me from believing that the joy was imagined. No pain could be felt in such levels without an equal sense of joy.
I'll hope that maybe just once you'll call me and tell me a secret. And I'll count down each day until I see you. When that day finally comes I'll forget what I wanted to do and what exactly I needed to say. And each time the process repeats and I'll always regret that I never let you know exactly how I feel.
Every day the same thoughts circle through my mind. They're like my favourite CD that I can't hear enough of. My eyes smile. People ask what I'm thinking about. I tell them its nothing. These are my thoughts. My secrets. Secrets that were created with you.
I would love to scream it to the whole world, but attempting to put it into words would vanquish the affection I feel towards them. These are at the very center point of my interior. These are the only thoughts that never drift away, not even for a second. The only thoughts that won't allow me to clear my mind. They cluster before me as I try to sleep and fill my dreams with nostalgia.
I feel your warmth and inhale your scent. My heart tries to catch your beat and the thought of you lifts my soul. And then I'm pulled back into reality. You're still floating at the back of my conscious but you've been reduced to a memory. I want to bring you back, to feel you there even when you're not. My throat aches and my head pounds, I can feel my forehead creasing. But I force myself not to cry.
I can't get out of bed for fear the memories will be forgotten, even for an instant. I lay there, hugging my pillow, trying to bring you back to me. These thoughts should be real. Waking up to your angles casually holding me in place at your side. Your cheek scratching mine in a gentle way. Instead I awake to nothing; a pillow and blankets whose warmth is not nearly as fulfilling as yours.
I finally get up and peel my clothes off. I step into the pounding water that seers my skin, but this heat is not nearly as intense as yours. As the water evaporates I write your name in a heart on the steamy shower wall and smile to myself. The hot water pours down my back trying to relax my aching muscles. It fails because my entire being never stops aching for you.
Every day when I get home I hope for a hint that you're thinking of me too. I hope that you understand this pain and this pleasure, combined into a warped sense of fear that has been trapped by ecstacy. The ache hurts but without it I'd be lost. Its the only thing that keeps me from believing that the joy was imagined. No pain could be felt in such levels without an equal sense of joy.
I'll hope that maybe just once you'll call me and tell me a secret. And I'll count down each day until I see you. When that day finally comes I'll forget what I wanted to do and what exactly I needed to say. And each time the process repeats and I'll always regret that I never let you know exactly how I feel.
...
05.07.08
Sometimes my nights are entirely sleepless wondering how this came to be. When I was younger I hoped my future would be flawed with perfection. Now that I'm older, that future is my past and it is far from how I envisioned it. No windless nights spent glancing at the stars looking for that image that would explain the world. No perfection has been obtained, lost or even missed. No soul has joined mine to create something new, a reaction, a spark, or even an imbalance to my current equilibrium. My heart has never outraced my mind, nor has it stopped for long enough to truly appreciate its beat. It has been monotonously continuing throughout my life.
Not once have my decisions been made by something other than my mind. Time has never slowed, stopped or even raced by. It has always been continual. I have not experienced what others seem to live for. This makes me question my purposes. Perhaps I am only here to be half complete. To be the product that never made it to the shelves but rather was thrown away. Or perhaps I will make it to the shelves accidentally and merely cause disappointment and tears. I will not cause a single smile.
Not once have I understood another being, nevermind to the point where I knew them as well as myself. My heart has never smiled, although my face surely has. Perhaps that indicates that I've never truly smiled and am merely an imitation meant to trick those not searching for a defect. I have never been asked to dance and been twirled as though I were the world. No one has ever told me that I mean more than the world to them. But I am incapable of conducting such feelings.
As I look into the future that will one day be my past, I no longer hope for beauty. I have come to the realization that I have no understanding of what beauty actually is. I can convince myself that the truth of the matter is that everything is beautiful. But I now know that just means that nothing is beautiful. I can only hope that someone might come along who has been tricked into believing that something is beautiful and maybe that something is me.
Sometimes my nights are entirely sleepless wondering how this came to be. When I was younger I hoped my future would be flawed with perfection. Now that I'm older, that future is my past and it is far from how I envisioned it. No windless nights spent glancing at the stars looking for that image that would explain the world. No perfection has been obtained, lost or even missed. No soul has joined mine to create something new, a reaction, a spark, or even an imbalance to my current equilibrium. My heart has never outraced my mind, nor has it stopped for long enough to truly appreciate its beat. It has been monotonously continuing throughout my life.
Not once have my decisions been made by something other than my mind. Time has never slowed, stopped or even raced by. It has always been continual. I have not experienced what others seem to live for. This makes me question my purposes. Perhaps I am only here to be half complete. To be the product that never made it to the shelves but rather was thrown away. Or perhaps I will make it to the shelves accidentally and merely cause disappointment and tears. I will not cause a single smile.
Not once have I understood another being, nevermind to the point where I knew them as well as myself. My heart has never smiled, although my face surely has. Perhaps that indicates that I've never truly smiled and am merely an imitation meant to trick those not searching for a defect. I have never been asked to dance and been twirled as though I were the world. No one has ever told me that I mean more than the world to them. But I am incapable of conducting such feelings.
As I look into the future that will one day be my past, I no longer hope for beauty. I have come to the realization that I have no understanding of what beauty actually is. I can convince myself that the truth of the matter is that everything is beautiful. But I now know that just means that nothing is beautiful. I can only hope that someone might come along who has been tricked into believing that something is beautiful and maybe that something is me.
...
05.07.08
"I left the hotel shortly thereafter and, very soon after that, I fell in love. Love was frightening and it hurt - not only during, but afterward - when I fell out of love. But that is another story.
I would like to fall in love again but my only hope is that love doesn't happen to me so often after this. I don't want to get so used to falling in love that I get curious to experience something more extreme - whatever that may be.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
When I was younger I used to worry so much about being alone - of being unlovable or incapable of love. As the years went on, my worries changed. I worried that I had become incapable of having a relationship, of offering intimacy. I felt as though the world lived inside a warm house at night and I was outside, and I couldn't be seen - because I was out there in the night. But now I am inside that house and it feels just the same.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
And yet in the end did we ever really give each other completely to the other? Do either of us know how to really share ourselves? Imagine the house is on fire and I reach to save that one thing - what is it? Do you know? Imagine that I am drowning and I reach within myself to save that one memory which is me - what is it? Do you know? What things would either of us reach for? Neither of us know.
========================================
She says that one of the cruelest things you can do to another person is pretend that you care about them more than you really do. I'm not sure if she means this about me or if she means this about herself. I ask her and she says she doesn't know.
She says: I'm sorry, but I just stopped being in love. It happened. I woke up and it was gone and it scared me and I felt like I was lying and hollow pretending to be "the wife". And I just can't do it anymore. I love you but I'm not in love.
I say: But I still love you.
She says: Do you? Really?
I say: Yes.
She says: Then I'm hurting you. Please stop asking me to say these things to you."
"I left the hotel shortly thereafter and, very soon after that, I fell in love. Love was frightening and it hurt - not only during, but afterward - when I fell out of love. But that is another story.
I would like to fall in love again but my only hope is that love doesn't happen to me so often after this. I don't want to get so used to falling in love that I get curious to experience something more extreme - whatever that may be.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
When I was younger I used to worry so much about being alone - of being unlovable or incapable of love. As the years went on, my worries changed. I worried that I had become incapable of having a relationship, of offering intimacy. I felt as though the world lived inside a warm house at night and I was outside, and I couldn't be seen - because I was out there in the night. But now I am inside that house and it feels just the same.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
And yet in the end did we ever really give each other completely to the other? Do either of us know how to really share ourselves? Imagine the house is on fire and I reach to save that one thing - what is it? Do you know? Imagine that I am drowning and I reach within myself to save that one memory which is me - what is it? Do you know? What things would either of us reach for? Neither of us know.
========================================
She says that one of the cruelest things you can do to another person is pretend that you care about them more than you really do. I'm not sure if she means this about me or if she means this about herself. I ask her and she says she doesn't know.
She says: I'm sorry, but I just stopped being in love. It happened. I woke up and it was gone and it scared me and I felt like I was lying and hollow pretending to be "the wife". And I just can't do it anymore. I love you but I'm not in love.
I say: But I still love you.
She says: Do you? Really?
I say: Yes.
She says: Then I'm hurting you. Please stop asking me to say these things to you."
...
04.30.08
"Time, Baby - so much, so much time left until the end of my life - sometimes I go crazy at how slowly time passes yet how quickly my body ages.
But I shouldn't allow myself to think like this. I have to remind myself that time only frightens me when I think of having to spend it alone. Sometimes I scare myself with how many of my thoughts revolve around making me feel better about sleeping alone in a room."
"Time, Baby - so much, so much time left until the end of my life - sometimes I go crazy at how slowly time passes yet how quickly my body ages.
But I shouldn't allow myself to think like this. I have to remind myself that time only frightens me when I think of having to spend it alone. Sometimes I scare myself with how many of my thoughts revolve around making me feel better about sleeping alone in a room."
...
04.23.08
" And Caitlin smiled. I wanted to put her smile in my pocket to look at over and over. "
" And Caitlin smiled. I wanted to put her smile in my pocket to look at over and over. "
...
04.22.08
I stop to hear it beating
Try to match your breathing
And that inch of skin
Rips and bleeds me in
And I allow a quiver
So you might deliver
A promise of a touch
No one else could mean this much
So I can't explain it
Articulations of my tongue
Voices silenced yet had sung
Gazes held for far too long
Yet had never once felt wrong
Lying down side by side
Completely lost in your brown eyes
Dampened by your heat
Nothing left to want but sleep
So I can't explain it
I love you
You make my colours
You are my light
I stop to hear it beating
Try to match your breathing
And that inch of skin
Rips and bleeds me in
And I allow a quiver
So you might deliver
A promise of a touch
No one else could mean this much
So I can't explain it
Articulations of my tongue
Voices silenced yet had sung
Gazes held for far too long
Yet had never once felt wrong
Lying down side by side
Completely lost in your brown eyes
Dampened by your heat
Nothing left to want but sleep
So I can't explain it
I love you
You make my colours
You are my light
...
04.21.08
"One day Cathy, myself, and a street kid -- a male exotic dancer on his day off -- were discussing death over a plate of fries with gravy at Tat's Coffee Inn. The question was, "What do you think death is like?" Cathy said it was like you're in a store and a friend drives up to the front door in a beautiful car and says "Hop in -- let's go on a trip!" And so you go out for a spin. And once you're out on the road and having a great time, suddenly your friend turns to you and says, "Oh, by the way, you're dead," and you realize that they're right, but it doesn't matter because you're happy and this is an adventure and this is fine.
Once, on a morning after a particularly noisy night, Cathy and I were walking down Drake Street and we saw a crow standing in a puddle, motionless, the sky reflected on its surface so that it looked as though the crow was standing on the sky. Cathy then told me that she thinks that there is a secret world just underneath the surface of our own world. She said that the secret world was more important than the one we live in. "Just image how surprised fish would be," she said, "if they all knew all the action going on just on the other side of the water. Or just imagine yourself being able to breathe underwater and living with the fish. They secret world is that close and it's THAT different."
I said that the secret world reminded me of the world of sleep where time and gravity and things like that don't matter. She said that maybe they were both the same thing.
...
Cathy wanted to see the water reservoir up the Capilano Canyon, up behind Cleveland Dam. She wouldn't tell me why until we got there, but she seemed in an obviously unhappy state and playing tour guide was the least I could do to cheer her up. And so we took the bus to the North Shore to the mountains overlooking the city.
The bus climed up Capilano Road, past the suburban houses nested inside the tall Douglas firs, hemlocks and cedars. These houses seemed far enough away from my present life as to seem like China.
Further up the mountain, the late-afternoon sky was cloudy and dark. When the wet air from the Pacific Ocean hits the mountains, it dumps all of its wetness right there. The sky was just starting to rain as we got off the bus near the Cleveland Dam and, as we crossed the road, I could tell we were going to get soaked.
The reservoir itself was a short walk away and was quickly enough pointed out to Cathy, but she looked disappointed when she saw it, though -- the large, loch-like lake stretching back into the steep, dark, mountain valley. She said, "like what's with the barbed wire fence -- you mean we can't go in and touch the water?"
I said we couldn't -- not from where we were.
"We have another option?"
I said we did, but it would involve some tromping through the woods and she said this was just fine, and so we headed up the road past a sign saying: WATERSHED: NO ADMITTANCE to a place where we used to have outdoor parties when I was in high school.
Cathy silently smoked a cigarette and clutched her purse to her side as we walked past a gate and up the dirt access road. The mountains above us were cloaked in mist up at their tops and we heard only the occasional bird noise as we cut off the road and into the trees. Cathy was immediately drenched as we cut through the underbrush of salmonberry bushes, grasses, and juvenille firs. Her big hair was filled with spider-webs and fir needles and dead huckleberry leaves; her black jeans were wet and clammy at her ankles. I asked her if she wanted to go back but she said, no, we had to continue and so we did, tromping deep into the black echo-free woods until we saw the glint of water ahead of us -- the reservoir. Cathy then said to me, "Stop -- don't move," and I froze.
I thought she had seen a bear or had pulled a gun out of her purse. I turned around and she had frozen in mid-motion. She said, "I bet if we froze right here and didn't move and didn't breathe we could stop time."
And so we stood there, deep in the woods, frozen in mid-motion, trying to stop time.
Now: I believe that you've had most of your important memories by the time you're thirty. After that, memory becomes water overflowing into an already full cup. New experiences just don't register in the same way or with the same impact. I could be shooting heroin with the Princess of Wales, naked in a crashing jet, and the experience still couldn't compare to the time the cops chased us after we threw the Taylors' patio furniture into their pool in the eleventh grade. You know what I mean.
I think Cathy at some level also felt this way, too -- and that she realized all of her important memories would be soon enough taken -- that she had X-number of years ahead of her of falling for the wrong guys -- mistreaters and abusers -- and that all of her memory would the be used up in sadness and dead ends and being hurt, and at the end of it all there would be... nothing -- no more new feelings.
Sometimes I think the people to feel the saddest for are people who are unable to connect with the profound -- people such as my boring brother-in-law, a hearty type so concerned with normality and fitting in that he eliminates any possibility of uniqueness for himself and his own personality. I wonder if some day, when he is older, he will wake up and the deeper part of him will realize that he has never allowed himself to truly exist, and he will cry with regret and shame and grief.
And then sometimes I think the people to feel saddest for are people who once knew what profoundness was, but who lost or became numb to the sensation of wonder -- people who closed the doors that lead us into the secret world -- or who had the doors closed for them by time and neglect and decisions made in times of weakness.
What happened was this: Cathy and I walked to the edge of the reservoir's water and from her purse she removed a Ziploc baggie containing two filmy-tailed, rather stupid looking goldfish that Pup-Tent had bought for her the week before in an isolated moment of kindness. We sat down on the smooth rocks next to the spotless, clean, infinitely dark and deep lake water. She said to me, "You only get one chance to fall in love for the first time, don't you?" And I said, "Well, at least you got the chance. A lot of people are still waiting."
She then poked into the glassy still water, made small ripples, and threw a stone or two. Then she took the baggie, placed it under the water and punctured the membrane with her sharp black fingernails. "Bye-bye fishies," she said as the two languidly wriggled away down into the depths. "Make sure you two stay together. You're the only chance that either of you is ever going to get."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Compromise is said to be the way of the world and yet I find myself feeling sick trying to accept what it has done to me:the little yellow pills, the lost sleep. But I don't think this is anything new in the world.
This is not to say my life is bad. I know it isn't...but my life is not what I expected it might have been when I was younger. Maybe you yourself deal with this issue better than me. Maybe you have been lucky enough to never have inner voices question you about your own path--or maybe you answered the questioning and came out on the other side. I don't feel sorry for myself in any way. I am merely coming to grips with what I know the world is truly like.
Sometimes I want to go to sleep and merge with the foggy world of dreams and not return to this, our real world. Sometimes I look back on my life and am surprised at the lack of kind things I have done. Sometimes I just feel that there must be another road that can be walked--away from this --either against my will or by default. "
"One day Cathy, myself, and a street kid -- a male exotic dancer on his day off -- were discussing death over a plate of fries with gravy at Tat's Coffee Inn. The question was, "What do you think death is like?" Cathy said it was like you're in a store and a friend drives up to the front door in a beautiful car and says "Hop in -- let's go on a trip!" And so you go out for a spin. And once you're out on the road and having a great time, suddenly your friend turns to you and says, "Oh, by the way, you're dead," and you realize that they're right, but it doesn't matter because you're happy and this is an adventure and this is fine.
Once, on a morning after a particularly noisy night, Cathy and I were walking down Drake Street and we saw a crow standing in a puddle, motionless, the sky reflected on its surface so that it looked as though the crow was standing on the sky. Cathy then told me that she thinks that there is a secret world just underneath the surface of our own world. She said that the secret world was more important than the one we live in. "Just image how surprised fish would be," she said, "if they all knew all the action going on just on the other side of the water. Or just imagine yourself being able to breathe underwater and living with the fish. They secret world is that close and it's THAT different."
I said that the secret world reminded me of the world of sleep where time and gravity and things like that don't matter. She said that maybe they were both the same thing.
...
Cathy wanted to see the water reservoir up the Capilano Canyon, up behind Cleveland Dam. She wouldn't tell me why until we got there, but she seemed in an obviously unhappy state and playing tour guide was the least I could do to cheer her up. And so we took the bus to the North Shore to the mountains overlooking the city.
The bus climed up Capilano Road, past the suburban houses nested inside the tall Douglas firs, hemlocks and cedars. These houses seemed far enough away from my present life as to seem like China.
Further up the mountain, the late-afternoon sky was cloudy and dark. When the wet air from the Pacific Ocean hits the mountains, it dumps all of its wetness right there. The sky was just starting to rain as we got off the bus near the Cleveland Dam and, as we crossed the road, I could tell we were going to get soaked.
The reservoir itself was a short walk away and was quickly enough pointed out to Cathy, but she looked disappointed when she saw it, though -- the large, loch-like lake stretching back into the steep, dark, mountain valley. She said, "like what's with the barbed wire fence -- you mean we can't go in and touch the water?"
I said we couldn't -- not from where we were.
"We have another option?"
I said we did, but it would involve some tromping through the woods and she said this was just fine, and so we headed up the road past a sign saying: WATERSHED: NO ADMITTANCE to a place where we used to have outdoor parties when I was in high school.
Cathy silently smoked a cigarette and clutched her purse to her side as we walked past a gate and up the dirt access road. The mountains above us were cloaked in mist up at their tops and we heard only the occasional bird noise as we cut off the road and into the trees. Cathy was immediately drenched as we cut through the underbrush of salmonberry bushes, grasses, and juvenille firs. Her big hair was filled with spider-webs and fir needles and dead huckleberry leaves; her black jeans were wet and clammy at her ankles. I asked her if she wanted to go back but she said, no, we had to continue and so we did, tromping deep into the black echo-free woods until we saw the glint of water ahead of us -- the reservoir. Cathy then said to me, "Stop -- don't move," and I froze.
I thought she had seen a bear or had pulled a gun out of her purse. I turned around and she had frozen in mid-motion. She said, "I bet if we froze right here and didn't move and didn't breathe we could stop time."
And so we stood there, deep in the woods, frozen in mid-motion, trying to stop time.
Now: I believe that you've had most of your important memories by the time you're thirty. After that, memory becomes water overflowing into an already full cup. New experiences just don't register in the same way or with the same impact. I could be shooting heroin with the Princess of Wales, naked in a crashing jet, and the experience still couldn't compare to the time the cops chased us after we threw the Taylors' patio furniture into their pool in the eleventh grade. You know what I mean.
I think Cathy at some level also felt this way, too -- and that she realized all of her important memories would be soon enough taken -- that she had X-number of years ahead of her of falling for the wrong guys -- mistreaters and abusers -- and that all of her memory would the be used up in sadness and dead ends and being hurt, and at the end of it all there would be... nothing -- no more new feelings.
Sometimes I think the people to feel the saddest for are people who are unable to connect with the profound -- people such as my boring brother-in-law, a hearty type so concerned with normality and fitting in that he eliminates any possibility of uniqueness for himself and his own personality. I wonder if some day, when he is older, he will wake up and the deeper part of him will realize that he has never allowed himself to truly exist, and he will cry with regret and shame and grief.
And then sometimes I think the people to feel saddest for are people who once knew what profoundness was, but who lost or became numb to the sensation of wonder -- people who closed the doors that lead us into the secret world -- or who had the doors closed for them by time and neglect and decisions made in times of weakness.
What happened was this: Cathy and I walked to the edge of the reservoir's water and from her purse she removed a Ziploc baggie containing two filmy-tailed, rather stupid looking goldfish that Pup-Tent had bought for her the week before in an isolated moment of kindness. We sat down on the smooth rocks next to the spotless, clean, infinitely dark and deep lake water. She said to me, "You only get one chance to fall in love for the first time, don't you?" And I said, "Well, at least you got the chance. A lot of people are still waiting."
She then poked into the glassy still water, made small ripples, and threw a stone or two. Then she took the baggie, placed it under the water and punctured the membrane with her sharp black fingernails. "Bye-bye fishies," she said as the two languidly wriggled away down into the depths. "Make sure you two stay together. You're the only chance that either of you is ever going to get."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Compromise is said to be the way of the world and yet I find myself feeling sick trying to accept what it has done to me:the little yellow pills, the lost sleep. But I don't think this is anything new in the world.
This is not to say my life is bad. I know it isn't...but my life is not what I expected it might have been when I was younger. Maybe you yourself deal with this issue better than me. Maybe you have been lucky enough to never have inner voices question you about your own path--or maybe you answered the questioning and came out on the other side. I don't feel sorry for myself in any way. I am merely coming to grips with what I know the world is truly like.
Sometimes I want to go to sleep and merge with the foggy world of dreams and not return to this, our real world. Sometimes I look back on my life and am surprised at the lack of kind things I have done. Sometimes I just feel that there must be another road that can be walked--away from this --either against my will or by default. "
...
04.20.08
These frost-bitten eyes show you your reflection
But all they'll let you see are your imperfections
The tears on these cheeks are your escaping ambitions
And this wind blown hair offers no forgiveness
This mind has closed; no words can penetrate it
These frost-bitten eyes show you your reflection
But all they'll let you see are your imperfections
The tears on these cheeks are your escaping ambitions
And this wind blown hair offers no forgiveness
This mind has closed; no words can penetrate it
...
04.15.08
Last time you told me to smile, my lips parted. I looked pretty. I lacked reality. You promised me despondency by telling me to smile. And would you even know? Could you even tell? You should have known. You brought it upon me. Had you even looked it would have been distinct. I was ostensibly happy. But you missed the truth.
Last time you told me to smile, my lips parted. I looked pretty. I lacked reality. You promised me despondency by telling me to smile. And would you even know? Could you even tell? You should have known. You brought it upon me. Had you even looked it would have been distinct. I was ostensibly happy. But you missed the truth.
...
...
04.10.08
"Somewhere between my bra and my hoodie, I realized I’ve never lied to you, ever, and so I think you should know this, and learn it:I love you the most, but you’re not the only.There is one who curls up on my bed and ticks theology. We take String Theory and make it Cat’s Cradle, bending formulas of space and place until they’re just another excuse to kiss. It’s fun but I lie awake at night and wonder if the galaxy enjoys being used as a pawn for a fun night in my underwear. I suspect the answer is “no” so I keep the curtains shut to blank the stars, in case they see me and go, “No, this isn’t right.” I never give into him and we wrestle until he gives up and passes out, and I curl away. In the morning I feel like a little kid who’s just won Monopoly. It’s a smile like that.There is one who knows he looks like a movie star, and that makes me hate him. He pouts until he pounces, and growls “why don’t you care” when I roll him away. I wish he were boring because I’m afraid of his face, he’s too beautiful, but we talk about art, and film, and the crumbles of people who used to get better drinks than us at parties. He tugs at my hair and my hands and my hem, but I kick him away until we’re both bruised and then sleep on his chest so we both breathe the same. In the morning I feel like I have a cool date to the prom. It’s a smile like that.There is one who smokes cigarettes in the church confessional. He calls me from Tokyo hotels to play a new guitar riff. He found me Hello Kitty band-aids. He makes me wear sunglasses with him on the subway. We jump on the bed with music too loud and our wine stains the ceiling, and then he traces my wrist-veins with his fingers and talks about a house in Nashville, in Montreal, in Mexico. “You can have your own bed,” he taunts and I tell him that’s good, since he refuses to leave mine. We sleep outside the lines, him on the covers and me under them. In the morning I feel like I’m getting ice cream for breakfast in a blanket fort. It’s a smile like that.But last night I was alone, and I had a dream that I was with you, the way I should be with you, and it didn’t feel like a win or a game or a party. Your scratched arms were my borders and your breath was my clock, and I was like, good. And I can’t quite mount the feeling to the wall, not yet, but I think its closest partner was relief.In the morning, I woke up and I was alone. It felt like something had been stolen.I sobbed and then I went to brunch and ate amazing toast. I kept myself outside all day and had my phone switched off. And somewhere between the tea and the sidewalk, I realized something else: You’re the only person I’ve never lied to, and that’s a big deal.I think I’m trapped in the city, at least until summer. It’s cracking my heart, but it’s pretty set. Get here before then so we can drink wine and dance on the couch. Maybe after two bottles, we’ll admit what has to happen."
"Somewhere between my bra and my hoodie, I realized I’ve never lied to you, ever, and so I think you should know this, and learn it:I love you the most, but you’re not the only.There is one who curls up on my bed and ticks theology. We take String Theory and make it Cat’s Cradle, bending formulas of space and place until they’re just another excuse to kiss. It’s fun but I lie awake at night and wonder if the galaxy enjoys being used as a pawn for a fun night in my underwear. I suspect the answer is “no” so I keep the curtains shut to blank the stars, in case they see me and go, “No, this isn’t right.” I never give into him and we wrestle until he gives up and passes out, and I curl away. In the morning I feel like a little kid who’s just won Monopoly. It’s a smile like that.There is one who knows he looks like a movie star, and that makes me hate him. He pouts until he pounces, and growls “why don’t you care” when I roll him away. I wish he were boring because I’m afraid of his face, he’s too beautiful, but we talk about art, and film, and the crumbles of people who used to get better drinks than us at parties. He tugs at my hair and my hands and my hem, but I kick him away until we’re both bruised and then sleep on his chest so we both breathe the same. In the morning I feel like I have a cool date to the prom. It’s a smile like that.There is one who smokes cigarettes in the church confessional. He calls me from Tokyo hotels to play a new guitar riff. He found me Hello Kitty band-aids. He makes me wear sunglasses with him on the subway. We jump on the bed with music too loud and our wine stains the ceiling, and then he traces my wrist-veins with his fingers and talks about a house in Nashville, in Montreal, in Mexico. “You can have your own bed,” he taunts and I tell him that’s good, since he refuses to leave mine. We sleep outside the lines, him on the covers and me under them. In the morning I feel like I’m getting ice cream for breakfast in a blanket fort. It’s a smile like that.But last night I was alone, and I had a dream that I was with you, the way I should be with you, and it didn’t feel like a win or a game or a party. Your scratched arms were my borders and your breath was my clock, and I was like, good. And I can’t quite mount the feeling to the wall, not yet, but I think its closest partner was relief.In the morning, I woke up and I was alone. It felt like something had been stolen.I sobbed and then I went to brunch and ate amazing toast. I kept myself outside all day and had my phone switched off. And somewhere between the tea and the sidewalk, I realized something else: You’re the only person I’ve never lied to, and that’s a big deal.I think I’m trapped in the city, at least until summer. It’s cracking my heart, but it’s pretty set. Get here before then so we can drink wine and dance on the couch. Maybe after two bottles, we’ll admit what has to happen."
...
04.10.08
Although I'm pretty I'm surrounded by too much beauty to be noticed
```````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
You look at him
But you don't glance at me
I'm just your friend
But I disagree
We could be lovers
J'aime ton esprit
But I know you'll never feel
That way about me
...............................................................
Why can't I come out and be free
Rather than just staying hidden
In a darkness so enveloping....
.........................................................................................................
My thought are sinking...
I can't stop thinking
About who I am
And what I'm not
What exactly have I got?
............................................................................................
~Perhaps one day I'll live~
Although I'm pretty I'm surrounded by too much beauty to be noticed
```````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
You look at him
But you don't glance at me
I'm just your friend
But I disagree
We could be lovers
J'aime ton esprit
But I know you'll never feel
That way about me
...............................................................
Why can't I come out and be free
Rather than just staying hidden
In a darkness so enveloping....
.........................................................................................................
My thought are sinking...
I can't stop thinking
About who I am
And what I'm not
What exactly have I got?
............................................................................................
~Perhaps one day I'll live~
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