[[ And watch as the sun rips this blue sky away. ]]

 

.. All I wanted was a simple, "I love you"..
.. I guess that's a bit too much to ask.
.. Even for Valentine's day..




*sigh*

..I love the way I feel right now.
I love how everything slowly starts to go back to normal and then, right when I feel as if everything's going to get better, as I start to get comfortable, everything goes down that same fucking spiral.

My esteem has dropped so much since November. I find myself to be the ugliest, most worthless thing in the world. I look at myself in a mirror and want to cut my face off. I feel fat and uncomfortable in my own skin. I can't sleep. Last Friday when we curled up together in her car, I could barely sleep. I kept waking up to see if she was still laying beside me. If it was her arms around me that I felt rather than a blanket curled around me.

I hate how I'm so unstable and unable to concentrate in class.
I don't want this semester to start out shitty. I don't want everything to just go down the fucking drain again. I hate how I'm always the one to have to deal with all the shit that she can't deal with. I hate how whenever I need something, when I need her to be here for a shoulder for me to cry on, it doesn't happen..


I'm not high maintenance.
I don't demand things. 
I don't ask for her to change. 
I don't ask for her to change her habits or even to stop touching other girls when we're out.
I don't need presents on holidays or my birthday.
There's only one thing I need.

All I ask..
All I need..
.. Is just for her to tell me she loves me.

That's all I need. I don't need anything else. Just her. Just her love. Just her support.
Is that so much to ask for? To be loved by the person you've been with for over a year?
For things to just even out?

I haven't given up. I'm not going to just abandon her because I can't. I can't just give up on her and disappear.. I can't.
I love her..
I miss her.
I miss the way she looked at me.. The way she holds me.
The way she used to make it seem as if I were the most amazing, most beautiful, most important person in the world..
I miss the time when my heart didn't tremble in my chest on a daily basis for fear of her getting upset with me..

Meh.. Tears on the keyboard.. Time to stop....

Uugh..
So yeah..
Most of you, if not all of you, should know by this point that I had a bit of a mishap this morning around 3:30am-ish.

I was driving home and I had just gotten over the state street hill. Right before I got into Rutland Center a deer decided it wanted to cross the road.
Well.. Needless to say, she crashed into my car.  I hit her while decelerating from 60mph. My airbag didn't deploy or anything.
But yeah.. She rolled down the driver's side of my car. She didn't die instantaneously, though. She ended up suffering for about ten or so minutes before she really died.

I can still drive the car, but it's in bad condition.
I'm suffering from internal bruising from my let ankle all the way up my left side. I have whiplash too, so tomorrow in school please, for the love of GOD, be gentle.  
I don't know when I'll be driving, next.  I might end up having my car totalled and getting a new one or something like that. If not that I'll be getting the car fixed.
Since I did hit the deer, my insurance will cover it. But there's a $500.00 co-pay.  If I do get my car fixed, it might end up taking a while. It's all up to my parents on what they want to do.

I'm pretty pissed off. I'm just really glad that the deer's companion didn't decide to run across the road the same time she did, though.
I'm pretty sure I'd be dead.

So yeah..
I really hate life right now.
Heh'..

 Blaaahhh.

Lurky's leaving tomorrow.
I hope to GOD that we have a delay or a snowday tomorrow. I want to be able to see him again before he leaves for the bus station.
if anybody wants me to go out and get them, if you're in the carthage area that is, to see Lurky tomorrow if we have a delay or something, leave me a myspace message or comment or something. I check that thing like.. Every few minutes.
>=D

Uugh.
Fucking big brothers.
I had to argue with mine for him to give me the keys to my car so that I could be out of the house for a half hour.
Whe he was gone all day.
And when he had ruined my plans for today.
Effin' jerk.
=/

Anyway.
The puppy just jumped up into the bed. That means it's bed time.
Good night.
=]

.. I just read Kota and Phinney's entire 'Eat-My-Poon-it's-magically-delicious' conversation.. And then the UrbanDictionary.com post about the definition of 'Poon' from Tara.




.. I don't even know what to say.
I think I'm pretty much pooned-out for the day.
Lmao.

 

Liberate- to set free, as from imprisonment or bondage.

 

' Dead, your Majesty. Dead, my lords and gentlemen.

Dead, Right Reverends and Wrong Reverends of every order.

 Dead, men and women, born with Heavenly compassion in your hearts.

And dying thus around us everyday.'

 

Breaking free.

Breaking bonds.

Opening up.

Freedom.

 

 

Life seems to be holding that endless essence of self pity yet again these days. Whiny annoyances buzzing in my ear on a constant basis, putting themselves down in an attempt to gain pity from my person, when they should know by now that I don’t pity, I merely tend, ease the suffering, and push them on their way to finding their own path through the brush. But at this point, quite frankly, I’m done with it.  Jamie said she wanted to come home, though she didn’t. Danni texted me all last night, complaining as to how there must be something wrong with her because every relationship she gets into ends up with her being left for another person. Yet.. These relationships don’t last for longer than a week. She barely knows the person before claiming to love them only to be left behind.. How can people be so fickle? The human heart isn’t a plaything to just be tossed around. The more it is tossed, the more it will become bruised. Soon those bruises would burst into open cuts which will fester with time. Those festering wounds, with time, will heal and form scars, scars which will latch onto the person’s mental state and cause walls to form when it’s not even necessary.

 

I admit, everybody has their moments of uncertainty. Lost between two extremes and not knowing which way to turn to escape what has befallen them. I understand, I really do. As most health teachers would say, adolescence is one of the most confusing times of our lives due to the raging hormones. But.. Seriously, people, come on. Stop screwing yourselves over. Whining over a fling which lasted maybe a few nights, claiming your heart was ripped out of your chest and stomped into the soil. If it hurt so much, then..

 

Why the hell do you keep doing it?

 

Common sense, loves. Common sense.

If your heart aches once you do something, yet you submit yourself to it again, why do you think it’ll be different? Yes, I understand, some relationships begin as the most magical thing in the world, then end to begin the next WWIII; a battles of words, threats, and immaturity. Yet.. Other relationships can start out great and remain that way.

Once falling in love, you give your heart to the person you fall for. And when doing that, you give them the power to destroy you. To blast you out of the water, to make you crumble where you stand. Walls form from these hurtful experiences. Walls build, trust slackens, belief in the words of those around you slowly begins to fade for fear of having nothing but more lies seeded into the depths of your mind. But once you find a new person, someone who sets those butterflies to flapping their wings in a flurry, what do you do then?
Hide?

Not let them in?

 

Darlings, I know I may seem as if I’m the most cheery person in the world. As if my trust holds no boundaries, as if everything’s just peachy keen.. But it’s not. I’ve been hurt just as much as the rest have. But I don’t close up. I don’t whine about it. It’s life. With the bad must come good, and vice versa. I know, it’s silly of me to leave myself open in such a manner, to keep on trusting and letting people in when, most of the time, all I want to do is hide myself from the world.. But I believe everybody needs second chances. I believe everybody should have the right to explain themselves and attempt to make it right.

 

‘Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.’

 

Never before have I heard truer words than those.

Life is about taking chances, launching yourself out there. Not locking yourself up in a bubble and expecting nothing bad to happen. Karma can’t flow if nothing happens in your life.

I don’t’ see that as ideal living..

Everybody in this world is like a pebble in a stream. As the current flows, the pebbles bounce along the bottom of the stream, following the current, following the pull of life. Though.. Hiding yourself up in a bubble, allowing your past pains to build up within your chest to fester and grow.. It makes you seem like you’re nothing more than a pebble that was washed up upon the shore. Watching everybody else pass you by while you remain where you are, never changing, never moving.. Slowly disengaging from the world. Barren of life, blind to the beauty of what can be seen, experienced, explored.

 

I said it before and I will say it again.

Choices.

One can’t go one day without making a choice. Without making some form of decision. To open your eyes is a choice you make every morning, be it insignificant or not, whether you do it or not is entirely up to you.

 

 

Truth, understanding the reality around you and never sinking into your

own delightful dreams. As much as you wish wither how hard things

are around you and the sorrow eating away all that hope away Believing

what you want to be and then what you are meant to be are two different things

that one must keep in mind. A dragon doesn't just guard a princess

within a tower or a knight doesn't ride a grand horse for show and tell.

Yet what does this little author know of fairy-tales and times of ever after?

Jesus could only let those rise up their hands and fall to their knees.

And yet what of those heads bowed and hands clasped?

Leaving, turning your back onto others and yourself to gain a better

understand for your own worth. Spitting and slapping those

 who cared right in front of you with their once yule-tied happy faces.

The voices in your head got to you again didn't they? Taking Persephone

footfalls forward are one thing but Hades is always waiting for his bride,

tainting and lusting for something he stole. And her tears

mark the harsh reality she must embark six months later.

Demeter's tears...

 

 

[[ Will you dance to this beat and hold your lover close? ]]

 

Things seem to progress in such weird ways.
And the entry before this one reads, Jes proposed to me [<3] and of course I said yes. We also went to prom together, which was amazing. Some people really do need to grow up and open their eyes to the fact that just because they say they want something done, doesn’t mean it’s going to happen. Save for a few disturbances, things seemed to flow just fine. Along with the proposal and prom, I learned that mum has been spying on my actions for a month or so now. And she knew about Jes and I being together. So I decided to confess to it and stop the lies. I’m grounded right now, for all the lies I’ve told, and mum isn’t the happiest camper in the world.. But at least she knows, and Jes and I should be able to hold a normal relationship now. I mean.. I love her. My mother should see this by how hard I’ve worked to keep it a secret. I didn’t tell mum about the proposal, nor about a few other things that have happened, but I have a right to my own personal life along with privacy. She’s invaded enough, I don’t need to tell her about all the intimate details.

 

Which is why I started this journal entry, why the first thing in it is the definition of Liberate. I feel liberated. I feel free. I don’t have to hide it anymore. The hard part is yet to come, though. I still need to tell dad, but.. Now that mum knows, by the time dad comes home, mum’ll be able to help me stand up to my father about everything. Help me explain it to him. Help me show him that.. Even though it may be a sin and go against everything he’s ever grown up knowing, and grown up attempting to teach me, this is who I am and by telling me that I can’t do it, won’t change the fact that this is the person that I was meant to be in the long run. I’m still frightened as to how it will turn out when father gets wind of it. But.. Well, that’s what back-up plans are for, right?

 

Enough with the theatrics, though.

Enough with the pretty wording, hidden meanings behind the words.

I just needed to get some stuff out there.

Get the urge to write off of my chest.

Release some of the ‘creative juices’ if I may.

Time to return to the real world.

 

[[Can you breathe crystallized passion into tears? ]]

'I want the whole world to know it so this is how I show it...
I scream to the world because I'm not at all shy,
I can't keep it in and i'm not ready to lie.
They don't want us together well that's to bad for them..
But I know we'll be together forever til the end.
I'll write across the brightest night sky all my feelings and more
I'll rope the moon just for you to see all the wonderful things you mean to me.
We make memories, times I sure wouldn't surpass
And lying here with you makes me realize I strongly hope this lasts.
So with each passing moment and with every day that goes by
I'll have it be certain in your mind you'll never have to wonder why..?
So as this passage comes to a close please always remember this..
I will be here for you always because not a moment will I miss...'


[ She proposed.  
10:30pm, Thursday May 17th, 2007]
                            I'm so happy.

 WRITE LOVE ON HER ARMS by Jamie Tworkowski

Pedro the Lion is loud in the speakers, and the city waits just outside our open windows. She sits and sings, legs crossed in the passenger seat, her pretty voice hiding in the volume. Music is a safe place and Pedro is her favorite. It hits me that she won't see this skyline for several weeks, and we will be without her. I lean forward, knowing this will be written, and I ask what she'd say if her story had an audience. She smiles. "Tell them to look up. Tell them to remember the stars."

I would rather write her a song, because songs don't wait to resolve, and because songs mean so much to her. Stories wait for endings, but songs are brave things bold enough to sing when all they know is darkness. These words, like most words, will be written next to midnight, between hurricane and harbor, as both claim to save her.

Renee is 19. When I meet her, cocaine is fresh in her system. She hasn't slept in 36 hours and she won't for another 24. It is a familiar blur of coke, pot, pills and alcohol. She has agreed to meet us, to listen and to let us pray. We ask Renee to come with us, to leave this broken night. She says she'll go to rehab tomorrow, but she isn't ready now. It is too great a change. We pray and say goodbye and it is hard to leave without her.

She has known such great pain; haunted dreams as a child, the near-constant presence of evil ever since. She has felt the touch of awful naked men, battled depression and addiction, and attempted suicide. Her arms remember razor blades, fifty scars that speak of self-inflicted wounds. Six hours after I meet her, she is feeling trapped, two groups of "friends" offering opposite ideas. Everyone is asleep. The sun is rising. She drinks long from a bottle of liquor, takes a razor blade from the table and locks herself in the bathroom. She cuts herself, using the blade to write "FUCK UP" large across her left forearm.

The nurse at the treatment center finds the wound several hours later. The center has no detox, names her too great a risk, and does not accept her. For the next five days, she is ours to love. We become her hospital and the possibility of healing fills our living room with life. It is unspoken and there are only a few of us, but we will be her church, the body of Christ coming alive to meet her needs, to write love on her arms.

She is full of contrast, more alive and closer to death than anyone I've known, like a Johnny Cash song or some theatre star. She owns attitude and humor beyond her 19 years, and when she tells me her story, she is humble and quiet and kind, shaped by the pain of a hundred lifetimes. I sit privileged but breaking as she shares. Her life has been so dark yet there is some soft hope in her words, and on consecutive evenings, I watch the prettiest girls in the room tell her that she's beautiful. I think it's God reminding her.

I've never walked this road, but I decide that if we're going to run a five-day rehab, it is going to be the coolest in the country. It is going to be rock and roll. We start with the basics; lots of fun, too much Starbucks and way too many cigarettes.

Thursday night she is in the balcony for Band Marino, Orlando's finest. They are indie-folk-fabulous, a movement disguised as a circus. She loves them and she smiles when I point out the A&R man from Atlantic Europe, in town from London just to catch this show.

She is in good seats when the Magic beat the Sonics the next night, screaming like a lifelong fan with every Dwight Howard dunk. On the way home, we stop for more coffee and books, Blue Like Jazz and (Anne Lamott's) Travelling Mercies.

On Saturday, the Taste of Chaos tour is in town and I'm not even sure we can get in, but doors do open and minutes after parking, we are on stage for Thrice, one of her favorite bands. She stands ten feet from the drummer, smiling constantly. It is a bright moment there in the music, as light and rain collide above the stage. It feels like healing. It is certainly hope.

Sunday night is church and many gather after the service to pray for Renee, this her last night before entering rehab. Some are strangers but all are friends tonight. The prayers move from broken to bold, all encouraging. We're talking to God but I think as much, we're talking to her, telling her she's loved, saying she does not go alone. One among us knows her best. Ryan sits in the corner strumming an acoustic guitar, singing songs she's inspired.

After church our house fills with friends, there for a few more moments before goodbye. Everyone has some gift for her, some note or hug or piece of encouragement. She pulls me aside and tells me she would like to give me something. I smile surprised, wondering what it could be. We walk through the crowded living room, to the garage and her stuff.

She hands me her last razor blade, tells me it is the one she used to cut her arm and her last lines of cocaine five nights before. She's had it with her ever since, shares that tonight will be the hardest night and she shouldn't have it. I hold it carefully, thank her and know instantly that this moment, this gift, will stay with me. It hits me to wonder if this great feeling is what Christ knows when we surrender our broken hearts, when we trade death for life.

As we arrive at the treatment center, she finishes: "The stars are always there but we miss them in the dirt and clouds. We miss them in the storms. Tell them to remember hope. We have hope."

I have watched life come back to her, and it has been a privilege. When our time with her began, someone suggested shifts but that is the language of business. Love is something better. I have been challenged and changed, reminded that love is that simple answer to so many of our hardest questions. Don Miller says we're called to hold our hands against the wounds of a broken world, to stop the bleeding. I agree so greatly.

We often ask God to show up. We pray prayers of rescue. Perhaps God would ask us to be that rescue, to be His body, to move for things that matter. He is not invisible when we come alive. I might be simple but more and more, I believe God works in love, speaks in love, is revealed in our love. I have seen that this week and honestly, it has been simple: Take a broken girl, treat her like a famous princess, give her the best seats in the house. Buy her coffee and cigarettes for the coming down, books and bathroom things for the days ahead. Tell her something true when all she's known are lies. Tell her God loves her. Tell her about forgiveness, the possibility of freedom, tell her she was made to dance in white dresses. All these things are true.

We are only asked to love, to offer hope to the many hopeless. We don't get to choose all the endings, but we are asked to play the rescuers. We won't solve all mysteries and our hearts will certainly break in such a vulnerable life, but it is the best way. We were made to be lovers bold in broken places, pouring ourselves out again and again until we're called home.

I have learned so much in one week with one brave girl. She is alive now, in the patience and safety of rehab, covered in marks of madness but choosing to believe that God makes things new, that He meant hope and healing in the stars. She would ask you to remember.

Listen up!
in school tomorrow, donate some amount of money -- ANY amount of money -- be it change or whatever. 
Just do it. We NEED to get her home.

Goal:
$149.00-$169.00

If you can't get me the money during the school day, then just call my cell phone [ 286 2128 ] and we'll arrange a time to meet up n' such.


Please, please, please!
Let's get her home.

If you can raise up enough money every weekend to get a bottle of vodka, then you sure as hell can donate a few dollars to getting a girl home.

I waited so long for a choice that wasn't mine
For a path I could never walk down
I guess in the end we all take our time
but i tried to backpedal, I know it's not right.

I drew out my future in pencil,
so it could come off easier than easy
but since everything changes, and it all re-arranges
It stays in the back of my mind.


So now I'm sitting on my back porch
waiting for this friend of mine
but my friend hung up
my heart on a clock
and he will watch it idily tick by.


And they prey on my thoughts after midnight
While I watch the "I love you"s in the sky
They say "It's no use, you're hung on a noose"
but I will try and I'll try and I'll try

So goodbye, my mirror and crown
goodbye my brown eyed boy blues
My hopes all used up
And I drowned in a cup
I know there's nothing I can do
Nothing, I can do.

Well, the animals laugh from the dark of the wilderness. A baby cries hard in an apartment complex, as I pass in a car buried under the influence. The city's driving me out of my mind. I’ve seen a child, he's caught in the sad trap of gravity. He falls from the lowest branch of the apple tree and lands in the grass and weeps for his dignity. Next time he will not aim so high. Yeah, next time, neither will I. Now, a mother takes loans out, sends her kids off to colleges. Her family’s reduced to names on a shopping list. While, a coroner kneels beneath a great, wooden crucifix. He knows there's worse things than being alone. I’ve learned to retreat at the first sign of danger. I mean, why wait around, if it's just to surrender? An ambition, I’ve found, can lead only to failure. I do not read the reviews.

 

No, I am not singing for you.

Well, I stood dropping a coin into the pit of a well. And I would throw my whole billfold if I thought it would help. With all these wishes I make, I should buy something real, at least a telephone call home. Well, My teachers, they built this retaining wall memory, all those multiple choices I answered so quickly. And got my grades back and forgot just as easily, but at least I got an A. And so I don't have them to blame. Well, I should stop pointing fingers; reserve my judgment of all those public action figures, the cowboy presidents. So loud behind the bullhorn so proud they can't admit when they've made a mistake. While poison ink spews from a speechwriter's pen, he knows he don't have to say it, so it, it don't bother him. "Honesty" "Accuracy" is just "Popular Opinion." And the approval rating is high, and so someone's gonna’ die. Well, ABC, NBC, CBS: Bullshit. They give us fact or fiction? I guess an even split. And each new act of war is tonight's entertainment. We're still the pawns in their game. As they take eye for an eye until no one can see, we must stumble blindly forward, repeating history. Well, I guess we all fit into your slogan on that fast food marquee: Red blooded, White skinned oh and the Blues. Oh and the Blues! I got the Blues! That's me! That's me!

Well, I awoke in relief. My sheets and tubes were all tangled weak from whiskey and pills, in a Chicago hospital. And my father was there, in a chair by the window, staring so far away. I tried talking, just whispered, "...so sorry...so selfish.." He stopped me and said, "Child I love you regardless and there is nothing you could do that would ever change this. I'm not angry. It happens. But you just can't do it again." And so now I try to keep up, I’ve been exchanging my currency. While a million objects pass through my periphery. Now I’m rubbing my eyes ‘cause they’re starting to bother me. I’ve been staring too long at the screen. But where was it when I first heard that sweet sound of humility? It came to my ears in the goddamn loveliest melody. How grateful I was then to be part of the mystery, to love and to be loved. Let's just hope that is enough.

[.I just can’t see things working out

the way I planned them in my head.]

 

You know… I started this entry with intention of putting something down.

To spill my heart out.

To sob while slamming down on the keys to get my stresses off of my chest.

..But I’m afraid to.

I don’t want to hurt anybody.

I don’t want to offend anybody.

…I don’t want to make anything worse.

 

I’m afraid.

I’ll admit to it.

I’m afraid of the dumbest things.

But.. At least my fears aren’t an illusion.

I’m afraid of losing my family.

I’m afraid of changes.

I’m afraid of hurting those who I care for.

I’m afraid of losing what I’ve let close to me.

I will admit.. I’ve been crying. I feel as if it’s all my fault that my parents are as unhappy as they are, as if I can do better to please them or something.. But I don’t know what to do. When I cry, I don’t burden them with my problems. When I get hurt, I don’t bother to mention it. When I’m hurting, I don’t utter a sound. I do my chores like a ‘good-little-girl’. I haven’t brought up anything that could possibly upset them.. I’m trying to be the best that I can be. I’m trying to be ‘perfect’ for them. But every time I try I just feel like more of a fuck up than anything else. I’m really at a loss for what to do now. I want to do something, I want to help, I want to make father happy again.. I don’t want to hear that he wants to kill himself.. Or not come home. I don’t want to hear him tell me that I’m selfish, that I’m a horrible daughter, that I’m a disgrace to the family for being what I am.

 

What more can I give them?
Upholding a façade of something they want from me.. It won’t last. They have to see me for me at some point. They have to open they’re eyes at some point and realize, ‘Hey.. My daughter’s never going to go out and get married to a nice gentleman. She’s probably never going to go out and look for a guy. She’s probably not going to ever produce grandchildren for us. My daughter’s gay.’

Honestly, what’s so bad about it?  I’m not a whore, I don’t bother to go out and get myself intoxicated with everything and anything I can find. I have respect for myself; I don’t do anything that can hurt me. If anything, I’m doing something to better my condition. I’m being honest with myself – I’m not lying to myself and suppressing who I am and what I am for the sake of pleasing them. I’m not cutting off the air supply to my body and letting myself slowly shrivel up and die anymore.

..But I’m terrified.

 

‘Zach’ (9:40:38 PM): Is it? Are you paving your way towards freiheit? From the persecution of your family and homophobes and all that nonsense?

AProdigysEpitaph: (9:42:04 PM) Well.. I'm afraid of leaving my family, because I'm afraid of having them hate me more than what they already do. I'm afraid of being completely excommunicated. But... Upon a whim, I can pack my bags and move to South Carolina with Jes in the summer... If I got my school transcript sent over to a school in South Carolina n' got my stuff ready for such a venture.. I'm terrified, though.

‘Zach’ (9:43:14 PM): What would you regret more? Hurting those that hurt you, or missing a great opportunity?

AProdigysEpitaph: (9:45:04 PM) I'm afraid that I'm going to lose the only thing that I ever really had in life.  I mean.. I KNOW that if I decide to go with her, instead of having her leave me behind, my parents would probably hate me for the rest of my life. They'd hate me for choosing a gay woman over their 'familial love'. I'd regret it with every ounce of compassion within my physical, spiritual, and emotional entirety. But.. If I have her leave me behind, I'll probably break down and have my heart crushed with the distance.

 

 

|| Cause the colors are always changing,
So stare up through the clouds .
And at least you know –
You're always looking up.  ||

Is it wrong.. No, is it selfish to find something that’s just so wonderful.. That you don’t want to let it go? You close your arms in around it in a gentle embrace and you hold onto it as if it was the source of your life. That’s how I feel..
To me.. Jes is like .. The sun to my sky. The air that I breathe.
She’s my everything, as sappy and repetitive as it sounds.

I’m really afraid of having her disappear on me. And.. I’m terrified of the consequences if I were to leave with her.  I mean.. After my senior year in high school, I have no regrets in packing my bags and leaving to go move somewhere else and start college.. But.. Before my senior year? If I were to move now, I’d only have a half of a year in any other state to finish whatever class requirements, and then I’ll graduate. That wouldn’t be enough time for me to pick out a college and have everything settled in and planned out. Not to mention I’ll be dealing with separation anxiety from the only people I ever knew to constantly be in my life no matter what happened.. And I’ll be attempting to adjust to a new surrounding, different circumstances and limitations, and sort through my current situations to assess what I can and cannot do.  Things will be rough and I don’t know if that much at one time would really work out for me.

 

It’s amazing how much can happen in such a short amount of time. How much can go terribly wrong, yet how much can go unspeakably right. I always seem to look at things from all directions, and all possibilities are taken into consideration.. But it still frightens me to death.. I don’t want to ruin good things or cause troubles that I won’t be able to fix. Situations that could never be reversed.. I’m terribly paranoid of failure, and terrified of losing the things that, I’ve been taught, should be the most important to a person.

Moral values versus Emotions.

Tricky, tricky.

 

[. And we run away,
Cause the sky looks different

When you're in another state.
It's everything I've always wanted,
And everything I've worked so hard for .]

 

Well..

Whatever happens.

I love her, and that’s all that it really comes down to.

Helpless-

1. unable to help oneself; weak or dependent
2. deprived of strength or power; powerless; incapacitated

 

 

 

A feeling.

Something most people feel, though  not many hold onto.

Standing off to the side while watching the ones you love suffer, hating yourself for not knowing what to do.. Not being able to do anything to help them. Just wishing that something would come up that you could jump upon and hold to your advantage to ‘save the day’.

The ache within your heart while powerlessly witnessing the hardships loved ones undergo. Self loathing rooting itself deeply within one’s subconscious. Finding themselves to be selfish for ever complaining about their aches and pains which follow everybody in the trek of life.

[somebody get help me through this nightmare

i can’t control myself.]

Though life goes on.

Spiraling endlessly through one period of time to another.

Switching back and forth, back and forth.

Good, bad, good, bad, joyous, terrible..

..Utopia..

..Oblivion.

Pathetic cries from youngsters filling the ears of adults who, despite their obligatory need to tend to silly mishaps, annoyédly lift themselves up from the depths of their self pity to sooth the younger generation, only to, later in life, abandon them to their own discoveries of how selfish they were to complain over silly bumps and bruises.

Who amongst you speak words of love and actually mean them?

[fuckinghypocrites]

 

 

Words of love can be expressed upon a whim, though to actually mean the words that are spoken takes an eternity to understand. If you love someone, you want them to be happy. No matter what. Even if your heart were to ache, or you felt as if you wanted to kill yourself over the decisions that are made, you would still smile, and look forward to an attempted better future for the person who you care for.  You don’t claim to love a person, and then when everything is over and done with, you attempt to ruin their lives – their sanity – with immature words hidden behind false tears which only stain one’s cheeks to make the person feel even worse about themselves. You don’t murmur curses and afflictive taunts to the face of an old lover merely to see them put a blade to their flesh. Make them cry for hours upon end and slowly hate themselves for things that they shouldn’t even be plagued with.

 

What has humanity come to?

Tears spill down the cheeks of the innocent, though ignored by those who should care for the same trick had been played over and over again in their lives; a tape set on rewind and replayed over and over again to bring back the memories which would much rather be forgotten than relived.

Those who are worthy of more than what they are given closing their eyes at night only to see the horrors of yesterday. Punishing themselves in silence in an attempt at redemption, when no such punishment is needed. Trembling hands of terrified lovers attempting to sooth away the pains of the past without knowing if their attempts would even break the surface. Whispered prayers into the empty night sky begging deities to grant them the strength to bring back happiness into the lives that mean the most to them, frightened that everything will merely crash down around them and once more bring them back into the broken down existence which previously had been put up with only to live from one day to the next.

[do you see how much

i need you right now?]

 

Theatrics can only get us but so far in life.

And ignorance is not bliss.

If the youth of today will be the leaders of tomorrow, why not educate?

Living in the dark has never brought anyone to excel in life.

 

.We.

.Will.

.Fall.

 

And when the elderly of tomorrow look towards those who brought what once was the land of opportunities to ashes, they will know.

They will know.

 

Outstretched hands and soothing words can only go but so far.

But actions, my friends; Actions is what will speak louder than any caress of the skin, or any murmur of encouragement.

To whisper to your lover that you will never leave them.

The words alone hold powerful meaning, but without the intent or the effort behind such words, who would believe? A two cent whore on the street can murmur the same promises of never-ending loyalty, but once the night of intercourse is through – once the money is exchanged – those promises will show their true faces; their hollow existences. Empty words bear broken hearts. Broken hearts bring lack of trust.

Reap what you sow, children.

Reap what you sow.

No matter how sincere your words may be.

No matter how truthful your intentions.

No matter how pure your heart.

This isn’t a fairytale.

If you get a cut, you will bleed.

Mommy can’t take your hand anymore, loves.

Mommy can’t kiss everything and make it better.

Mommy won’t always be around to get you out of the ruts you get yourselves into.

The time must come when you need to get up and take charge of life. The time must come when one must open their eyes and see life for what it is; stop living in a fantasy and realize that nothing is all milk and honey.
When you get hit, it will hurt.

If you get burned, it will sting.

But everything will heal in due time. Every broken bone, every little cut, every little bruise.

Life.. Goes.. On.

 

 

Dear Jes,

I know my words may seem repetitive, and not many actions have been brought about to prove my intentions, but.. I promise. I’m not going to do what many others have done to you. I’m not going to hit you, I’m not going to scream at you, I’m not going to take offense to your playful behavior. I’ll never glare at you and tell you to ‘shut up and grow up’. I’m never going to tell you that any of your aspirations are stupid and you should do something else instead. I fell in love with you for the person you are – flaws and all – and I strive to be everything I can be for you. I know there are a few things that I may still need to prove to you. I know that you are ‘broken’. I know that you have been misused, neglected, mistreated.. I know that past experiences have left you aching and defensive for you don’t want them to happen again, but I swear to you on my life that, no matter what,  I will always be here for you and that my intentions will always remain as pure as they were the first day I met you. The first time we kissed. The first moment that I realized that I wanted to be with you.. The first morning I woke up to see your smiling face.   I love you. You mean the world to me. You are, in fact, my everything.

A beating heart and a microphone,

A ticking clock in an empty home.

Still tells of these times so long ago,

And even though I’ve come so far,

I know I’ve got so far to go –

And any day now Ill explode.

 

In the case of Columbine;

In the case of the Amish School Shooting;

In the case of the Virginia Tech;

In the case of humanity –

 

 [ i tried so hard..

and got so far..]

 

There are things in this world that many people don’t understand.

But the one thing that most people fail to be able to comprehend is:

How can someone take the lives of other people?

 

I don’t know.

And I don’t pretend to know.

I live a life based on the idea of philanthropy,

I don’t even bother to attempt to understand the mind of a misanthrope.

Yes, I do understand that there are a lot of very.. Horrid people out there. I see where humanity has its faults. Where the weaknesses may lie. But.. Doesn’t everybody –  doesn’t everything –  have a weakness?

 

Massacre - 

1. the unnecessary, indiscriminate killing of a large number of human beings or animals, as in barbarous warfare or persecution or for revenge or plunder.
2. a general slaughter, as of persons or animals.

 

Columbine –   April 20, 1999.

Two teenage students, Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, carried out a shooting rampage, killing twelve students and a teacher, as well as wounding twenty-four others, before committing suicide.

 

 

Amish Massacre –   October 2, 2006.

A gunman [Charles Carl Roberts IV] took hostages and eventually killed five girls (aged 7–13) and then killed himself at West Nickel Mines School, a one-room Amish schoolhouse in Nickel Mines, a village in Bart Township of Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.

 

Virginia Tech –   April 16, 2007.

A university shooting that took place as two separate attacks approximately two hours apart on Monday, April 16, 2007 on the campus of the Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University in Blacksburg, Virginia, United States. A gunman [Cho Seung-hui] killed thirty-two people and injured twenty-nine before committing suicide, making it the deadliest killing spree in modern U.S. history.

 

 

 

What drives these people?

What in the world corrupts these people to put them in a mental state where they can commit such horrid deeds?
The killing of children?

The killing of peers?

The taking of human life in general is an unspeakable act. I mean.. I read of a bombing in 1920 where a guy destroyed a grade school building, killing 45 children ranging from the grades of second to sixth all because he was having trouble on his farm.
Oh yeaaah. Let’s go kill innocent children because I’m having money problems with the farm.

Jeeez.

And another shooting where a 53 year old guy walked into a school, threatening that he had a bomb strapped to him. He then took six female hostages, sexually assaulted them, and released four. He later killed one of them before the other hostage managed to get away safely. He then committed suicide.

 

Did you know.. A survivor of the holocaust died in the VA Tech shooting?

After the holocaust, him and his family fled to Israel before making it to the united states where he tried to start a life.

What happens?

He gets killed in a shooting by a  South Korean.

 

Whatever happened to ‘Thou shalt not kill’?

[ in the end..

it doesn’t even matter. ]

 

 

|| Time is a valuable thing,
Watch it fly by as the pendulum swings.
Watch it count down to the end of the day,
The clock ticks life away
It’s so unreal.. ||

 

Humanity is slowly falling apart.

Morals are lost at the bottom of a bottle,

Or in the void of a syringe.

Honour plays no role within the lives of the majority of the populace, and those who still hold onto the dying art of living are ridiculed for it.

Since when has respect for yourself and other human beings become an outdated act of olde?
Since when is humility merely a charade used to get someone in bed?

A facade of innocence intimidating ignorant hosts to move forward in life.

 

Since when has human kind been forced to degrade themselves to live?

 

“Look to our youth, for they are the leaders of tomorrow.”

In all honesty, at times I fear what will become of our youth while growing up in today’s world.

I mean.. Come on.

-We’re the most obese country.

-Every few seconds another violent videogame is put on the market.

[I’m not complaining, I like violent videogames, but still.]

-A high divorce rate amongst heterosexuals leading to children having to move between two parents.

-Drug abuse and integration at a young age.

-Alcohol abuse and integration at a young age.

-High sexual assault rates.

-School violence.

-Parents not talking to their kids.

 

Kids are pretty mean these days too.

Doctors are also going as low as to diagnose five-year-olds with depression, putting the kids on chemicals that screw their internal systems up for life and make things worse, not better. Creating a dependency on the medication to uphold some form of equilibrium within unstable bodies.

Our race really does amaze me at times.

 

Every few seconds a new ‘miracle’ cure comes onto the market.

..Do they have one for stupidity, yet?

 

[. Your Voice is wasted ‘cause I’m not listening .]

 

 

 

It’s been a while.

It seems like only yesterday did I sit down and take some time out to write away at what I’ve bee thinking – What I’ve been feeling. Though now that I actually get the time for it, look at the date to the last real entry I typed; it’s been almost a month. It’s amazing how silly little things can take up one’s life to a point where once-was daily habits are pushed off to the side and hidden amongst past memories only to be brought about with a craving to return to an old habit. Don’t take me wrong, I’m not complaining, but I kind of miss my periods of time where I’d just sit down at the computer or in my room with a notebook and write to my heart’s content. Little stories that never made it in my eyes, poems holding hidden meanings that reflect on daily life, if not in life in general. I was recently asked if I write outside of my older habits, and.. Well. In all honesty, I don’t know. Other else than the little stories I create for my own amusement before throwing them away, I don’t really write much anymore. It’s almost as if my once-was creativity is starting to fade and suffocate within the clutches of time.  Yet, as long as my imagination and inner child remain safe from Father Time’s clutches, I guess I have nothing to complain about.

 

Drama, drama.

[Freeze me in this moment,

Thaw me in ten years —

When the fires burn out,

And the smoke clears.]

Relationships coming to an end while new, unexplored territories are granted to unsuspecting individuals,
drying the tears for a brief moment in compensation for life’s troubles. Whispered words of unjustly hate being murmured from dull lips only to fuel further troubles when one should just let go and move on, let things be the way they are and move forward with life, rather than cling to something that can no longer be. With every end, something new must begin. Life doesn’t just stop when an event takes place it keeps moving forward, whether you like it or not. The current will ever-flow, moping and dragging your feet won’t change the fact that things happen, life happens. Even if you want the world to stop, it’s not going to stop turning. That’s the only annoying thing about this entire game called life, there isn’t a pause button.

 

Let’s un-write these pages and replace them with our own words.

 

Peace;

Ah, what a wonderful thing. Even though some drama and heartbreak seems to still flutter about, it seems more like a sort of calm has finally been reached. Yes, under the surface of the water currents still tumble back and forth with conflicting ideas, emotions, longings, but that’s an inescapable aspect of human life. There’s always going to be someone, somewhere who’s not happy and hiding it to try and keep immediate loved ones in a state of comfort, not wishing to trouble others further with silly problems which could be talked about and solved within a matter of seconds. But.. I guess everybody has their own method of dealing with things.

Silly, silly darlings.

If only you would learn, that if you keep things on the inside it’ll only tear you asunder in the long run. Come, come now and open up. The world is too pretty for angelic faces to wear a mask of tear-stained agony; a self-imposed prison where the ones giving out the sentencing punish you unjustly merely for made-up reasons of why you deserve to live the way you do, feel the things you do, hurt the way you do. Why waste life away in such a horrid manner when there are so many beautiful things that can replace what you have learned to be the norm when it was only a part of life that should have been experienced then left behind where it belongs – In The Past.
Silly, silly darlings..

 

Cloudy days shifting forth to produce a smiling sky.
The rain comes and the rain goes. Hard times don’t last forever. It’s silly how people seem to sulk in the moment when going through the ordeals of life that seem to be mandatory for everybody to go through; sulking, whining, asking a sky devoted to silence why such a burden has befallen them, only to look back at those silly moments and laugh at how youth can bring about the oddest traits in one’s personality.

Using the key to unlock places within you that you may not see in yourself, but others see as you grow up.

 

Live, darlings.

Live.

 

 

And there you have it.

My monologue of sorts.

 

[.We’re falling in love with.. The battle over risk versus reason.]

 

“Driving all night..

One more city that will forget our names.”

 

So apparently I don’t exist today…

All day it seems as if mother has been ignoring me.. It hurts. It always does when they do this. The one thing I don’t understand is.. Why they don’t just.. Accept. Why they hold onto the past and won’t just open their eyes to the changing of the world around them. Why they don’t hold onto promises made when their children were younger; yes, we were small, but we remember.

 [[ Forgive me for all the things I’ve done to hurt you, but in turn, remember all the words spoken which bit deeper than any poison could flow. Though the nursery rhyme states that “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me”, the words uttered from the lips of a parent to the ears of a child can do far more than just hurt. As children grow, they change; as they change they learn about themselves and make decisions about themselves that, in the long run, shape them to the person who they are going to be. A parent’s job is to guide their child through life, though with such guidance they also must take a step back and allow for self exploration. The love a parent holds for a child is to be unconditional, no matter what mistakes are made or choices are taken. Open your eyes.. Please. I am who I am; I am who I was raised to be. I work as hard as I can to do the right thing within your eyes, but the right thing always has flaws.. And those flaws are always exploded up in my face. I’m not perfect, I never have been and I never will be.. I’m just trying to be myself. My views on life may be different. My beliefs and values may be different. My preferences may be different, but.. I’m still the same little girl who held your hand when crossing the street. The same little girl who always was willing to help; always curious about what was going on. I’m still the same person.. Why can’t you see that? ]]

 

And all these stupid silly songs

Keep trying to catch your ear.

I’m trying desperately…

It’s just so hard to persevere.

And even if you listen,

I’ve never had much to say.

‘Cause it’s the same ol’ song.. I’ve written for the day.

 

Shelter me oh genius words;

Just give me strength..

To pen these things, and give me peace to well her wings

And oh..

Oh, carry on, all you minstrels of the world.

We will catch our lady’s ear, we will win for us the girl.

 

And all these minstrels through the ages;

That is really all we are,

Simply singing for the girl – That makes us try so very hard.

To craft the perfect limerick,

To wield unending woe.

To write such silly songs

And the difference never know.

Shelter me oh genius words;

Just give me strength..

To pen these things, and give me peace to well her wings

And oh..

Oh, carry on, all you minstrels of the world.

We will catch our lady’s ear, we will win for us the girl.

 

And I’ll hold onto the dream –

Of this beggar’s plea and optimistic fantasy.

Just hold the hand and drop the knee,

You’re facing love

You’re.. Embracing melody.

 

 

I admit my weaknesses.

I admit my mistakes.

I try to learn from everything and anything that I’ve done wrong, and at least I admit to the flaws that I have. Nobody’s perfect.. I don’t think anybody was meant to be perfect. All parents were teenagers once. All parents went against their parents to discover themselves, to test their boundaries, yet they take on the role of a hypocrite for they don’t wish to admit to it and punish their children for doing exactly what they did in their own youth; if not to the same extent then to worse extents or lighter ones. Pain is a part of life. Without it, no one can learn to be strong. No one can excel in life, no one would ever move forward. With every pleasure some form of pain must occur as well. It’s part of the balance, I guess. Though.. There doesn’t seem to be much of a balance around these parts as of late.

 

So apparently my right to expression through the words you are now reading is being hindered. My words must now be kept to myself, and if not that, hidden amongst other words for only those who are clever enough to read what I have to say to find out. But.. Isn’t that what I used to do anyway? Hide meanings and messages amongst stories and poetry for the readers to pick out? What fun this will be.

 

My confessions seem to be caught at a stand still, emotions run dry and words hidden amongst my mental cosmos, refusing to allow me to win this little game of hide and seek. Maybe next time will I actually dig down and try to get rid of some thoughts that have been bugging me. Until then, I guess I’ll leave it at that.