| Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs- A Copywrited Title I've Completely Ripped Off |
[Jun. 14th, 2009|09:11 pm] |
So.
I'm about 30 pages away from finishing The Perks of Being a Wallflower for the second time. This book makes me feel so, so many strange, indescribable feelings. Not good, not bad, just... strange.
It's been so long since I've felt infinite. I miss it, but I can't remember what the missed feeling feels like.
Whew.
It's been entirely too long since I've updated this journal and entirely too long since I've had a reason to.
I still don't have a reason to. But it seemed like the right thing to do.
So I am.
I don't have any witty, smart, deep or poetic things to write. I don't have any feelings to share. I just... can't anymore. It just won't come out.
So I'll leave with this, then. I guess.
Just because it felt right. |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 24th, 2006|09:13 pm] |
Richard Cory
Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored and imperially slim.
And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said Good morning
And he glittered when he walked.
And he was rich, yes richer than a king,
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish we were in his place.
So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.
- Edwin Arlington Robinson |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 6th, 2006|06:45 pm] |
The world was on fire
No one could save me but you.
Literacy flies through my mind constantly. The urge to speak, but having no words to say. The urge to act, but knowing the REaction would be unsatisfying and contemptible. I foresee a boundary of animosity and friction. I see the beginnings of it now. The wall is building, with no one that has the power to cease it. Would we stop it if we could?
Everything I see and feel is a blur. There is no definition to what goes on around me, there is no focus. It's all a haze to me now. There is a film over my heart.
I've blocked myself from the world in fear of being hurt. I choose my words carefully now. I do not waste my breath on things that should not, nor need not, be heard. I walk quickly and reflex slowly. I commit and follow my own paths. I do not fall victim to circumstance or chance. That is for me to decide. I trust no one; not even myself. I cannot AFFORD to, I've already lost entirely too much as it is. I have nothing left to give or to have taken from me.
I have my words and I have my mind. I need no one else.
I feel inferior to the people who are most important. I am not one of them.
Me, myself, and I. |
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| Vertigo |
[Sep. 2nd, 2006|09:41 pm] |
We'll crucify the insincere tonight
We'll make things right, we'll feel it all tonight
We'll find a way to offer up the night tonight
The indescribable moments of your life tonight
The impossible is possible tonight
Believe in me as I believe in you, tonight
Tonight, Tonight.
We come as a pact, we come as one. We stand for all the forsaken and all in the minority. We stand for all in the dark....
And to all that are satisfied with that.
I am all that I can be. |
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| All I loved, I loved alone |
[Aug. 30th, 2006|06:29 pm] |
42 unmarked harmonies and 7 bottles of cyanide.
Our perverseness and human nature create endless labyrinths to execute through. Our skill and preciseness place us below or above the rank of superiority. Those of a genius intellect see in different visions than we alone can, as do those with psychopathic tendencies. I see through eyes of silence and I talk in a voice that is not my own. Hearts of sad and minds of mad are one in the same when placed on the same level. If we are what we choose to be, and we trust in what we choose to see, then why I ask, do I come up so short?
I see art in a room filled of lit candles. The way the light casts shadows on your face makes you seem vulnerable and refrained, with an undertone of boldness. Golden skin in dim light can bring me to my knees.
In the meantime, I will give you half of what I can and hope that it will suffice. If it doesn't, then I have come up short yet again. I did not choose this, and I do not trust in this.
My brain is an ink spill. My face is emotionless. I am your canvas; paint your picture. |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 21st, 2006|07:46 pm] |
Do you exemplify what is right or do you objectify what is wrong? Why do we talk out of context about insignificant subjects when those without voices have no courage to speak at all? Certain questions lead to answers. Others bring up. There are too many unshared thoughts and feelings. There are too many secrets and too many hidden gestures.
There are too many others.
"I've been looking in the mirror for so long... that I've come to believe my souls on the other side. All of the little pieces, falling... shatter. Shards of me, too sharp to put... back together. Too small to matter... but big enough to cut me into so many little pieces. If I try to touch, then I bleed... I bleed... and I breathe... I breathe...
No more."
 |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 1st, 2006|09:33 pm] |
Bible verses and worn out curses
(So, so sick)
Chronicles of my timid trials
(Collection of metaphors)
Wasting time on pseudoscience
(Countless disappointments)
Rhythm skips a beat.
Having reliance on
Epiphanies of disillusionment
Medicated psyche of the insane
My blood on the walls is a sign
A thousand screams in time
Silhouettes say silent prayers
Prodigy is knocking at my door.
24/7. Flashback.
What a wonder
We're gullible to our dreams
Gnashing teeth and blushing cheeks.
Our hands are behind our backs
They have entirely too much to say.
We crawl at each others feet
We hang on every word
My name is sacred in your mouth.
Maybe black holes hold all of our secrets. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 30th, 2006|08:31 pm] |
I clench my fists and bite my tongue with every breath I take.
I walk on glass with every word I say and every move I make.
Tugging on heartstrings turns into balancing on tight ropes, and expressions turn into shadows of regret and anxiousness on our faces.
When I close my eyes I see black. When I open them I see the same.
Songs of pleasant dreams and love have seemed to morph into screeches, static, and formatted tones of sound that only my heart hears.
The feeling of body heat and whispers of sweet nothings bring people to an immediate stop, as if some invisible barrier has been crossed.
Those who cross that barrier are taken to another state of mind and experience colors, sounds, and emotions like nothing that I myself will ever have the pleasure of knowing.
I'll be behind the barrier with screeches, static and black as long as I can stand it.
Sometimes it's comforting, being behind this barrier. I have my thoughts, heart, and soul to myself. They are safe in my keeping, and invulnerable to being crushed upon by some unlikely stranger that I will never TRULY know.
When you are your only lover, everything is perfect.
I'll carry my cross across my back as you stare on with disregard. I wear this crown of thorns for you, and only you.
I break myself down in hopes of gaining my own respect.
I bury myself in jealousy and animosity to gain sympathy from myself.
I'll put my burdens in my pocket, lay my cross down, and hold my head up high.
I'll make a new chapter for myself, a chapter without you in it.
Have fun on the other side of the barrier. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 25th, 2006|09:12 pm] |
Every secret I have holds an undeniable fraction of insanity. My secrets hold me back. But my lips will always be sealed.
Close your eyes and open your heart. Turn off your mind and turn on the love. Just live.
I'm past the point of desperation. On my way to death. I took a pitstop at pathetic, now I'm back on the road. I don't know when I'll get there.
When will it be my turn to live?
Love me or leave me. Save me the time.
I don't belong. Love never wanted me.
.enolaeidottnawtnodI
But I've learned to accept it. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 22nd, 2006|08:15 pm] |
Come.
Rest your soiled and sinful hands in mine.
Look through me with your amorous glass eyes.
Disect my mind and decipher each word whisper.
I'll return the thought by burning your name on my skin.
My personal book of nothings and failures.
We'll run through meadows of black and gray.
Empty smiles and artificial laughs.
White on white.
We'll have the time of our lives.
Breathe on my neck and walk away.
We can sit and stare into the ink that is darkness.
Speaking muted words and stepping back 2 spaces for each hit missed.
There is no fantasy.
What is black is real.
What is us is not.
Beautiful lies enriched in apathetical values.
We'll stand and watch the colors fade.
We'll keep blank expressions and have no concern.
We'll waltz to static.
Hand in hand.
We'll walk into nothing.
We'll have the time of our lives. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 20th, 2006|02:10 am] |
When they sky bleeds blankets of gray,
and the air is heavy with dreariness and dismal aura
When in the dewdrops on the blades of grass you can see your future,
and you start to value the small things in life
When nothing seems as important as the faithful energy locked in the glance of two lovers,
and you wouldn't have it any other way
When you cry as you sleep under the stars and sing childhood hymns in your mind,
and think about how your heart used to be
When it valued nothing more than a reassuring hug from a parent,
and nothing could've possibly made you more happy than that
When your world collapses and you repress all of the childhood memories,
and you beg your mind to let you remember at least how it used to feel
At least how it used to feel.
That's when you know you've grown up.
How it used to be in the simple glee of a young life.
How happy the simplest things could make you.
How the tragedies that occured changed your life and molded your world into what it is today.
The pains a young heart experiences are never truly forgotten.
All friends are your best friends, and you have no secrets to bare.
You have nothing to regret and therefore nothing to hide.
You welcome the future with wide and open arms.
Young love is an honest love like no other.
But I've grown out of young love.
I've grown out of life itself.
"How the hell did we wind up like this
Why weren't we able
To see the signs that we missed
And try to turn the tables..." |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 19th, 2006|02:04 pm] |
"And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had."
I've given all I can.
I'm drained dry of all feeling and emotion.
I've been open to reception of blame and defamation for too long now.
And through it all I've lost myself.
I'm in the background now.
Everything I see is in hues of gray.
Look right through me.
Young hearts and fake smiles.
Every word is nonsense wrapped in a packaged lie.
Writing alibis and hiding heavy hearts.
Sugar coated dreams and second stars to the right.
"If heaven and hell decide
that they both are satisfied
illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs
if there's no one beside you when your soul embarks
then I will follow you into the dark."
My eyes have no more tears to hold. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 16th, 2006|09:27 pm] |
This is what you get.
Every scar given was deserved. Every heart broken was earned. You put yourself in this corner.
Like every unspeakable thought running through your head during a moment of silence. Like every inferior glance given out of jealousy. Like the nights you escape to your bed where you wrack your brain for answers.
Just like that.
This is what you get.
I can play pretend. I have the power to make your world and then tear it down. I have many masks and many costumes. I come in different packaging all the time.
Every breath you take is in spite and resentment. Every devious move you make is in demand of controversy and sympathy.
You make alliances with the devil every drink you take.
Nothing matters anymore. Things are damanged beyond repair.
I hope you're happy, now that you've invaded my brain and broken my heart. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 14th, 2006|12:41 am] |
It's pouring here. It's pouring jealousy, apathy and curiosity.
You're the stream of thoughts that flow out of this heart and hand. But... You knew that already, didn't you?
I think that I'm just a possibility to you now. A 'what could have been'.
"The hand behind this pen relives a failure everyday."
In one instant in life, I saw hate, digust and anger. I saw struggle and strife. I saw addictions and deceit. Succeeding this instant, I saw a future. A future of change, a future of security and trust. A future of 'what could be'.
Insecurities and doubts are what keep us from reaching our goals. So many unshared secrets, so many second guesses. Heads turned out of embarassment. Bathing in self loathing and settling for a life unwanted.
'What could have been' is what could very easily BE. There is no such word as 'been' or 'past' in love. Trust in fate and trust in yourself are the keys to changing 'what could have been' into 'what is'.
It's never too late to rewind the hands of time. Set your watch back an hour and see what it can do. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 12th, 2006|09:15 pm] |
It's all or nothing. The ones willing to risk it all are the ones that get the biggest rewards.
But sometimes they loose it all.
But isn't that the definition of 'risk'?
Life is a risk. Risks can lead to tragedies. Tragedies can kill you.
Life is a risk. Risks can lead to beauty. Beauty can lead to life.
I'm alive. But i'm not really living.
"I am not worried...
I am not overly concerned.
With the status of my emotions
Oh, she says, we're changing.
But we're always changing."
Wasted life is what was. Wasted love is what is.
What will be?
Imagery is nothing without meaning behind it. Bodies are nothing without lives behind them. Music is nothing without a feeling behind it. Words are nothing without a story behind them. Life is nothing without love behind it. Love is nothing without commitment behind it.
I am nothing without you behind me.
Where do the words end and I begin?
I'm not sure anymore.
I'm alive... but I'm not really living.
Yet.
*Edit... Fuck this life. I can't take this anymore, I really can't. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 8th, 2006|12:05 am] |
I don't like being surrounded.
I miss the comfort of privacy.
Cryptic messages. Reading mixed signals. Let me know if i'm worth it. Please.
It's killing me. I need to know.
"Well maybe there's a god above, but all i've ever learned from love was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you..."
Hallelujah.
It'd been too long. I'd forgotten how it felt. From my lips you've drawn my hallelujah.
You've drawn more than my hallelujah. You've drawn every emotion, every feeling, every hope, every wish, every dream. Every sense of belonging. Every ideal of feeling wanted. Every last trace of certainty in myself.
There are no words to explain it. None.
Sometimes I wish that you'd take it back. But if it ever left me now... I wouldn't be complete. A part of my soul would be missing. Forever.
"It's not a cry that you hear at night, and it's not somebody who's seen the light; It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah."
Please.
Hallelujah. |
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| Waltz Moore |
[Jul. 1st, 2006|07:54 pm] |
Fingertips graze the surface of the unattainable. Things I will never be. Expectations I will never live up to. I'm put in my place again... somehow I always end up here. Why is everything I do in the hopes of impressing someone?
"I can't remember the last time i've seen my own eyes..."
I don't understand why I just can't be happy. The standard bar rises. Dark closet corners gather dust. Skeletons sit in the distance, laughing. Dark undertones flicker light. Adolescent insecurities visit again.
"I'm staring in the mirror, looking back at the person I hate..."
We choose our own destinies. You aren't worth it. You'll never be worth it.
.railahcusmI
I'm sorry. |
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| In The Background... |
[Jun. 25th, 2006|10:42 pm] |
Two entries, one day. Maybe I should spend less time on the computer and more time learning to be appreciative of what I have.
Maybe I should spend less time over-analyzing every word you write/say and more time trying to put my family back together.
Maybe I should spend less time trying to be like everybody else and more time finding who I really am.
Funny how the things that I hate in people are the things that I am made of.
Funny how the people I envy are the people that I could easily be.
Funny how getting hurt anonymously hurts worse than a person you love hurting you.
When the only form of true happiness you've ever felt appears to you in a dream, when the emotions get so strong that you think your head is going to cave in, when the line between real life and fantasy is blurred subliminally, when 'true love' is nothing short of a hallucination...
Where nothing is ever as it seems. Where everything you've ever wanted is out of reach. Where the people are just shadows. Where the moon never glows. Where immorality is persistent. Where love equals pain. This is home.
This will always be home.
"I wish you would step back from that ledge, my friend..." |
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| Writing is the only thing that's ever made me feel anything above worthless. |
[Jun. 25th, 2006|02:22 pm] |
Once young, never naive...
Reality
Imagination, reality left behind
Fiction growing thicker, feelings undefined
Lost in my own abyss,
and though I created the way,
Im searching for the exit
To my self-fashioned ascendancy.
Handicapped of authority,
Especially over myself,
I cleanse through fractioned imagery,
And bleed unto my wealth.
Not wealth, you see, as in riches;
But cognition, of this I creed
My knowledge acts as a drain,
Abating my misery.
Though no pain, no suffering, no anguish
During this comatose;
There still remains the knowledge,
That this is not actuality.
As I bid farewell to my Eden,
I prepare myself for the truth;
I have to face reality,
Straight on, in the face
Or I will never find true happiness,
And my paradise will never surface.
A Heart Divided, A Mind Erupt
The bitter ending, closing near
The desolation, the confusion, the fear
The never-ending sorrow, too much to bear
The aching pains of heartache, tugging on strings
I never knew were there.
In a fog, in a haze
I get lost in a hopeless gaze
My heart is divided
My mind is erupt
And yet my smile remains
Vacant, but nevertheless present
And my soul is still a resident
Of a body
That never quite gives in.
Breathe
Contracting and constricting,
Relaxing and releasing,
And tightening up again;
Pausing and choking,
Heaving and thrashing,
Missing what had been;
Calming and idling,
Stilling and lingering,
Knowing what is to befall;
Regretting and reflecting,
Praying and weeping,
Waiting for Gods final call.
Mirrors
The mirror falls to the floor
Breaking into hundreds of tiny pieces
Youre amused at how it doesnt put itself together again
Reminiscent of the way your life has always been
You stop and stare at each of the pieces
Theyre all out of place
They're all wrong
But they come from the same plateau
The same mirror
Created the same
Created together
Created with no thought put into how hopeless they seem
When they fall apart
Together as a whole they are strong
They are one
Separated, they are powerless
They are... nothing.
But now youre just rambling, arent you?
You sweep up the pieces and walk your way toward disposing of them
But against your better judgment, you stop
You decide to glue the pieces back together
To make something out of these pieces that no one would find use for
To make something new out of what had happened in the past
True, the reflection would never be perfect again
But its always better to have an imperfect mirror
Than to not have one at all.
~All by me |
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