there can be a smooth transition.
i think it just has to end.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
200th post
and they've almost all been about you.
sometimes i wonder if you ever miss anyone.
if you have ever had one single thought about someone else while we have been in a relationship.
i wonder if there has been that one person you felt bad about that one conversation because you knew you were being flirtatious, and you know that's what they wanted.
sometimes i wonder these things, but not enough anymore for it to be a problem.
im sitting in your room by myself, wondering these things, and i feel so inclined to snoop.
at the beginning of our relationship, i know i probably would of, i am ashamed to say.
i am proud now to say, that i would never do that. the first thing i did was sign you off myspace (ok so that was to check mine, but i could never invade privacy like that anyway), and now i am sitting reading like a good girl and not giving the journals you keep in your drawer a second thought.
i am proud to say that i love you, and i trust you, and the past does not matter, and just for the sake of it, i opened the draw just so i could shut it hard and know that i am perfectly ok not even touching them. I am proud to know that i have overcome all of those jealous curious feelings, and am 100% content knowing the things you decide to tell me.
i do not know if this will make you mad, that these thoughts even apear, or if it will bring you comfort at how quickly i shut them out. I did not even have to try to forget about them, i just did it, because they are silly now to the point where i laugh at my wandering mind like a child's imagination. I love you, and that is what matters. Let the tag on the sunflowers be that constant reminder (:
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
it is done.
we will all pretend it is temporary.
we will all pretend that we will come back together.
we will all hold our heads high and say our family is not falling apart.
we will all act this way, until the rest of the truth comes out.
So for the first time i can openly and publicly on this blog say that i am gay, and now the the band knows, we are looking for my replacement. I am going to teach this new girl how to sing, write, talk and walk the way i do, only a little different. This new girl will fill all the gaps i will leave in your photos. She will be at all of the shows. She will try to win over the fans. She won't stand up for herself or fight because she will want it so badly. She will be a Christian. She will always be on time. She might even have a little blue hair, i mean it is the trademark.
She however, will not have my heart. She will not have my love. She will not have my passion and my commitment. She won't have the most ridiculous things happen to her on the way to every practice and cause her to be an hour late. She won't connect with the fans the way i did. She won't sing the lyrics that i wrote, the way they were meant to be sung. She won't be singing for us, she will be singing for her. She won't want to build what we have, she will just want what we have to be hers. She won't have my sense of humor. She won't know our inside jokes. She won't know how much t-shirts are and when it's ok to to cut someone a deal. She won't know your girlfriends. She won't know who has been coming to our shows since the beginning. She won't be able to tell when one of you two are going to mess up on a harmony becuase of the way you sang the line before. She won't know when andrew is about to go off beat and stay in time with him. She won't flail her arms around and make ridiculous hand motions the entire show. She won't have your stories, your history, your families. She won't have my smile or my laugh. She won't have my brain or my skin or my red toes or my little thumbs. She won't cause conflict when soemthings wrong, because she will think it's right. She won't always tell the truth, because she won't know what is ok to say and what isn't. She actually, won't be anything like me.
And no, she won't be gay either... and that's what matters most to you, isn't it?
we will all pretend that we will come back together.
we will all hold our heads high and say our family is not falling apart.
we will all act this way, until the rest of the truth comes out.
So for the first time i can openly and publicly on this blog say that i am gay, and now the the band knows, we are looking for my replacement. I am going to teach this new girl how to sing, write, talk and walk the way i do, only a little different. This new girl will fill all the gaps i will leave in your photos. She will be at all of the shows. She will try to win over the fans. She won't stand up for herself or fight because she will want it so badly. She will be a Christian. She will always be on time. She might even have a little blue hair, i mean it is the trademark.
She however, will not have my heart. She will not have my love. She will not have my passion and my commitment. She won't have the most ridiculous things happen to her on the way to every practice and cause her to be an hour late. She won't connect with the fans the way i did. She won't sing the lyrics that i wrote, the way they were meant to be sung. She won't be singing for us, she will be singing for her. She won't want to build what we have, she will just want what we have to be hers. She won't have my sense of humor. She won't know our inside jokes. She won't know how much t-shirts are and when it's ok to to cut someone a deal. She won't know your girlfriends. She won't know who has been coming to our shows since the beginning. She won't be able to tell when one of you two are going to mess up on a harmony becuase of the way you sang the line before. She won't know when andrew is about to go off beat and stay in time with him. She won't flail her arms around and make ridiculous hand motions the entire show. She won't have your stories, your history, your families. She won't have my smile or my laugh. She won't have my brain or my skin or my red toes or my little thumbs. She won't cause conflict when soemthings wrong, because she will think it's right. She won't always tell the truth, because she won't know what is ok to say and what isn't. She actually, won't be anything like me.
And no, she won't be gay either... and that's what matters most to you, isn't it?
if i am so ok with this, if i know it's the right thing to do, why am i crying? Why do i feel like i just gave up one of the only two solid things in my life? When did doing the right thing, and standing up for what you believe in start to hurt so bad.
why does it have to be like this?
why does it have to be like this?
so now
it's the morning and i'm waking up and i'm feeling good.
Maybe I'm wrong about these long talks. You are right about not talking 24/7, i think we both see that now. Things are starting to feel better to me.
but more importantly, Jim is on speaker phone with someone who keeps putting him on hold and playing polyphonic Beatles songs while he is waiting.
Maybe I'm wrong about these long talks. You are right about not talking 24/7, i think we both see that now. Things are starting to feel better to me.
but more importantly, Jim is on speaker phone with someone who keeps putting him on hold and playing polyphonic Beatles songs while he is waiting.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Friday, July 10th, 2009
I was just starting to get happy.
I don't want anything to change.
what a fucking death wish.
what a fucking death wish.
so i am trying
to do a few things. Yes, again that word comes up.
When i try to live in the present, everyone wants to know what i'm doing tomorrow.
When i try to stop planning, i start to feel hopeless and discombobulated.
When i try to do things for myself, i start trying so hard that i end up doing things against myself.
When i try to give you space, i am not sure when you need it.
When i try to hold good conversations, they dwindle.
When i try to do something sweet for you, later incidents cancel them out.
I am trying to live in the present. I am trying to stop planning. I am trying to do things for myself. I am trying to give you the space that you need to function. I am trying to hold good conversations. I am trying to do sweet things for you, but with all of these something keeps getting in the way.
When i try to live in the present, everyone wants to know what i'm doing tomorrow.
When i try to stop planning, i start to feel hopeless and discombobulated.
When i try to do things for myself, i start trying so hard that i end up doing things against myself.
When i try to give you space, i am not sure when you need it.
When i try to hold good conversations, they dwindle.
When i try to do something sweet for you, later incidents cancel them out.
trytrytrytryyyy.
never do.
never do.
I wish i could simply do and forget about all of these things weighing both of us down, but you have to try something and succeed before you can say that you have actually done it. You always have to try before you can do. In this circumstance my darling, i am going to try harder than i ever have. My entire life i always just stop if something is not easily accomplished. I obviously, will not do that this time.
i have never felt so determined
to fix something
i never thought would go wrong.
to fix something
i never thought would go wrong.
i love you.
i know the things that are standing in my way and i am going to overcome them.
i know the things that are standing in my way and i am going to overcome them.
I suppose it's just complex when saying the same things begins to bring about? rather than comfort. I also guess I am confused about some things. Do you want spontaneity because you are bored, or looking for things to be new, when at the same time i am so afraid of change? what can i do when we have come to the end of one road and have to turn onto another? I am too known for sitting at the fork rather then choosing a direct path. I leave bread crumbs back to the old roads hoping that some day i can get back there again, knowing it was the best road i ever set foot on. I have to come to terms that the soles in the shoes i have worn on past roads are threadbare and exposing my skin. I guess i am just afraid we will venture onto a new road with rocks and nails and broken glass rather than a grassy path soft on my old soul.
I absolutely cannot stand this.Then comes the other half of this predicament : How can we secure the same road when we cannot speak about why either of us are walking that way? We need to speak, and let our thought bubbles conjoin rather than extract bits from each other. These bits and pieces are forming all of these jumbled ideas in my mind that don't make any sense to me. I feel like we are pausing before we get a full thought because we are cushioning the idea for the other, but really all that days is fragment it. I need you to know that when i am only getting a selection of words from your thoughts, the few pieces of your thought pie, i cannot comprehend the whole. I am not getting angry at the idea, i am trying to understand. I am not getting frustrated at the things you are saying, i am getting frustrated at myself for not being able to sketch in the blanks in the big picture you are drawing out for me.
I think we need to sit down and actually talk about things. We need to nail down what is frustrating, what we don't understand. We need to do this when we have more than five minutes alone to do it. We need to get this out of the way and past this. We need to compromise on things and what we are going to do to try to fix this. I do not think we can just fix it by us both trying to do separate things when we haven't really talked about everything. I mean, i don't feel like we have loads left to discuss, but i don't want the few little things left, whatever they may be to develop into anything else. I want to pin when this started, what caused it, and how to kill it. I want to fix it.
I am sorry if i am so entirely focused on fixing it, but that's what i do. I dedicate all of my time to helping other people with things they are going through, and i am just a problem solver. It drives me crazy when i can't fix something, and this is something that i cannot fix without you. If we have qualities that are clashing, we need to figure out how they can combine without colliding.
I also feel like the last couple times we have been together we have been out and doing things, or with other people for a good percentage of it. Maybe you feel like all we ever do is stay inside, but lately it has not been like that, and i miss it.
All i want is for us to lie down in each others arms and put all of this behind us, fall asleep next to each other and wake up with everything being perfect again. I know it won't be that easy, but maybe it could be a start.
I think we need to sit down and actually talk about things. We need to nail down what is frustrating, what we don't understand. We need to do this when we have more than five minutes alone to do it. We need to get this out of the way and past this. We need to compromise on things and what we are going to do to try to fix this. I do not think we can just fix it by us both trying to do separate things when we haven't really talked about everything. I mean, i don't feel like we have loads left to discuss, but i don't want the few little things left, whatever they may be to develop into anything else. I want to pin when this started, what caused it, and how to kill it. I want to fix it.
I am sorry if i am so entirely focused on fixing it, but that's what i do. I dedicate all of my time to helping other people with things they are going through, and i am just a problem solver. It drives me crazy when i can't fix something, and this is something that i cannot fix without you. If we have qualities that are clashing, we need to figure out how they can combine without colliding.
I also feel like the last couple times we have been together we have been out and doing things, or with other people for a good percentage of it. Maybe you feel like all we ever do is stay inside, but lately it has not been like that, and i miss it.
All i want is for us to lie down in each others arms and put all of this behind us, fall asleep next to each other and wake up with everything being perfect again. I know it won't be that easy, but maybe it could be a start.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
writing
writing is good.
insanity, not so much.
When did all of this start? Can i pinpoint a month, a week, a day?
Yes, i can. That day i felt like a third wheel. That was the catalyst of all of this. Perhaps, i do not know. Those feelings that day were resolved with a long conversation. They're gone and obliterated.
I AM JUST INSECURE.
That is all i am. i have this problem of picking up my life and putting it into other places, other people's stories, other events and occurrences that are in no way relevant to the life i lead.
I am trying to write. I really am. It's just not working. For me there is no escape. Writing used to be, i suppose. I tried art. I tried reading. Hell, i even went back to cutting, ashamedly, and none of the old tricks had the same fire. Every match had already been struck and the flame dwindled.
It's worse than you think. I am not eating. I am sleeping even less.
I'm scared,I'm scared of losing, i've never really been a winner. I'm afraid i'm going to lose my band, my family, and then myself. Losing myself, would mean losing you.
You see the biggest problem is notthe actual problems, it's what the problems make me feel like. I feel as if the smallest thing throws me for aloop, then i know that i'm going insane, so i worry. Then when i worry i know it's contagious, that you will worry. Then knowing that you worry makes me feel terrible, and worry more. Then i try to resolve it. Resolutions seem to be found by resolving the base problem, which is usually nothing and irrational and therefor, cannot be solved. Knowing that i cannot solve the base problem makes me feel unstable and as if everything in my life is shaking.
I guess I've got a little poetry in me.
AND IM SO IRRITATED.
everyone everywhere makes me so angry and it's so frustrating. I'm so frustrated with myself and just fed up with this person i am becoming. adsjhfasd.
The worst part is knowing everything i'm doing.
tonight i turned around and when you got in my car, it was unreal. I literally felt as if i were watching a movie.
Why do i feel this way? why am i looking into everything so fucking hard? Why do i think that everything you say sounds dismissive, like your tone sounds as if you don't want me there? Why am i making up these things? Why do i think about it none stop?
WHY DOES THERE ALWAYS HAVE TO BE SOMETHING WRONG?!
why can i not simply accept when things are sturdy and sound, when things are perfect. I've said it before, and i'll say it again..
why do i always make the problem?
answer: it's just the way i am.
why can't i change?
insanity, not so much.
When did all of this start? Can i pinpoint a month, a week, a day?
Yes, i can. That day i felt like a third wheel. That was the catalyst of all of this. Perhaps, i do not know. Those feelings that day were resolved with a long conversation. They're gone and obliterated.
I AM JUST INSECURE.
That is all i am. i have this problem of picking up my life and putting it into other places, other people's stories, other events and occurrences that are in no way relevant to the life i lead.
I am trying to write. I really am. It's just not working. For me there is no escape. Writing used to be, i suppose. I tried art. I tried reading. Hell, i even went back to cutting, ashamedly, and none of the old tricks had the same fire. Every match had already been struck and the flame dwindled.
It's worse than you think. I am not eating. I am sleeping even less.
I'm scared,I'm scared of losing, i've never really been a winner. I'm afraid i'm going to lose my band, my family, and then myself. Losing myself, would mean losing you.
You see the biggest problem is notthe actual problems, it's what the problems make me feel like. I feel as if the smallest thing throws me for aloop, then i know that i'm going insane, so i worry. Then when i worry i know it's contagious, that you will worry. Then knowing that you worry makes me feel terrible, and worry more. Then i try to resolve it. Resolutions seem to be found by resolving the base problem, which is usually nothing and irrational and therefor, cannot be solved. Knowing that i cannot solve the base problem makes me feel unstable and as if everything in my life is shaking.
I guess I've got a little poetry in me.
AND IM SO IRRITATED.
everyone everywhere makes me so angry and it's so frustrating. I'm so frustrated with myself and just fed up with this person i am becoming. adsjhfasd.
The worst part is knowing everything i'm doing.
tonight i turned around and when you got in my car, it was unreal. I literally felt as if i were watching a movie.
Why do i feel this way? why am i looking into everything so fucking hard? Why do i think that everything you say sounds dismissive, like your tone sounds as if you don't want me there? Why am i making up these things? Why do i think about it none stop?
WHY DOES THERE ALWAYS HAVE TO BE SOMETHING WRONG?!
why can i not simply accept when things are sturdy and sound, when things are perfect. I've said it before, and i'll say it again..
why do i always make the problem?
answer: it's just the way i am.
why can't i change?
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
3/23/09
Note: I wrote this awhile ago, and post it hesitantly, but do keep in mind this is fiction and all parts resembling reality are merely inspiration.
She spent the weekend on ice, not in the bad way though. She was not slipping and falling at every turn. Rather, she was gracefully drifting through each situation which presented itself to her.
Friday went the fastest. With work ending four or five hours early (who's counting?),a cigarette on the ride home and a forbidden call wading through the receiver on her phone. She slept her version of sleeping and wept her version of crying. Lying awake and watching the clock flick by in numerical responses, the greatest killer she knew. Even living was a form of suicide if you let time kill you.
Awaking from nothing and jumping into the same thing, an uneventful day. A stage presence amplified and a mic too loud. These things are her life. These things make her happy. A smile on her face was a mere mirror image, the horizontally placed mirrors showing the merge of grace, resulting in a faulty frown. She was displeased with herself for longing for the affection she had long displaced to escape from. His silence was deserved, and desolate.No type of liquid passion, even the thin vapors of his delusive acceptance, could not fill the insides of her bones. Her plastered marrow was preserved, but loosely knit. Every shift of weight and every step would shake the demode dust in her .
"My bones cry out aching, dry and breaking." She said it aloud. No one so much as twitched in response. Dry as a desert, she deserted contemporary means.
The drive home was long. The sky was perfected in tones that even she could appreciate. Each star a melodic pluck on the lines of the harp set in the sky, reverberating against the shade of the sky, an open space between strings.
The next day the rolling of the tires beneath her felt routine, and so soon. Another day, another place, another song, ten more faces to remember and names to forget.
Seeing the broken down one room school filled her heart with pings of hope.
Her downfall was inevitable. It is quite the wonder how it was all documented, though none took noticed. An excerpt from her journal is all it would have taken to open the blindest eyes to light.
"If all sin shall be repent and washed away, save for blasphemy and the sins I have encompassed myself in, then why try to wash clean the dirt from my face? If I am the damned, then who is foolish enough to repent a lost cause? If I am lost, why should i search for a map that God's rage has burned in the Hell He created? All men are apt to sin and the sin I'm in, Oh the sin I'm in. Shall I not try to wade my way past clouds to Heaven's gates with sin around my knees as thick as murkish moss water? Why, God, would You encourage the lost to stay lost? Why woudl You, God, dispel mistakes to a permanent board. Why, God, are you keeping score when we believe our sins to be erased? Why have You damned me?"
The one room school house was boarded up for the most part. A broken window was visible and vines crept up each side, surpassing perfect opportunities to break in. One step left the way into the door, though completely unnecessary. The field around was plowed and forgotten. The high school is still directly across the road, oddly placed in the surrounding champaign. The very first time she ever passed the original school house, ideas pervaded through her body. A rope, and god willing a rafter to hang it from. She was never a boy scout, so the knots may be a trick; but a noose did not have to be perfect. The boards would remain up. The body would appear as a trick of the eyes to the cars which passed, a vine misplaced, an old board falling to the ground.
She grew giddy over discussing the hunt for her body with herself. Would they think she had run away? Would they think she was kidnapped?
Perhaps a pair of wide eyed lovers would make their way into the room, looking for fulfilling love and finding a hollowed out neck. How long would her body swing? Who would notice her absence first? How the world would shake at the news and the hypocrisy.
A smile spread across her face, revealing teeth crooked with compassion for the imperfect.
These things are her life. These things make her happy.
There are two ways this story ends. She pleads for the first. The thoughts consuming her until she makes her way to the one room school house, and attaches herself to the building where her thoughts were left.
The other is the reality of it all.
Who would be the first to notice her absence? She knew.
She was glad. She loved you.
You kept her sane.
Don't you dare leave.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
you see
i dont have anyone else.
i dont have anyone to knock on my door
or hang out with when you are not here.
i have given everyone i had like that, up for you.
i
have
no
one
except
for
you.
and that's the hardest part.
and yea, its still unhealthy.
im crying
and im pissed
all because you have
other people in your life.
im not good for you, im not.
i dont have anyone to knock on my door
or hang out with when you are not here.
i have given everyone i had like that, up for you.
i
have
no
one
except
for
you.
and that's the hardest part.
and yea, its still unhealthy.
im crying
and im pissed
all because you have
other people in your life.
im not good for you, im not.
it isn't your fault
and i would never really say it
because there was nothing that
you could have really done,
but i just needed you last night
and you were
nowhere
to be
found.
because there was nothing that
you could have really done,
but i just needed you last night
and you were
nowhere
to be
found.
Friday, July 10, 2009
today was almost ok.
until i got home.
being sick all day was fine.
being alone all day was almost enjoyable (could have used the obvious presence of one).
working was necessary.
drive home was not so shabby.
coming home was another story.
drunk adults ar ento so great.
food a mess all over the counter, the table.
nothing for me to eat.
not even a vegetarian feel good meal, just bread.
oh and the real kicker?
half of my family will probably be unemployed by the month if RC's shuts down.
there goes my mother's job.
there goes my sister(who also just found out her college loans didn't actually go through)'s job.
my stepfather is retired.
i apparently spend way too much money.
although i am picking up extra hours, even spending my own money on gas will seem like a burden if my family doesn't have any money.
i have no idea what we will do.
i have the type of family, who cannot be happy without money.. it is quite sad.
i could be ok, but i could not live and see my family in torment like that.
My mother built a life from nothing, lost it all and started over again. She does not deserve to start from scratch again. I have taken for granted the life that i have always had. I feel that everything is about to change. One by one secrets are coming out, families will fall apart and relationships abolished.
being sick all day was fine.
being alone all day was almost enjoyable (could have used the obvious presence of one).
working was necessary.
drive home was not so shabby.
coming home was another story.
drunk adults ar ento so great.
food a mess all over the counter, the table.
nothing for me to eat.
not even a vegetarian feel good meal, just bread.
oh and the real kicker?
half of my family will probably be unemployed by the month if RC's shuts down.
there goes my mother's job.
there goes my sister(who also just found out her college loans didn't actually go through)'s job.
my stepfather is retired.
i apparently spend way too much money.
although i am picking up extra hours, even spending my own money on gas will seem like a burden if my family doesn't have any money.
i have no idea what we will do.
i have the type of family, who cannot be happy without money.. it is quite sad.
i could be ok, but i could not live and see my family in torment like that.
My mother built a life from nothing, lost it all and started over again. She does not deserve to start from scratch again. I have taken for granted the life that i have always had. I feel that everything is about to change. One by one secrets are coming out, families will fall apart and relationships abolished.
I was just starting to get happy.
I don't want anything to change.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
notes i've been keeping.
"I've managed to exit atop this hill with no lifeline or life support. the people flood past to the front of the stage and i sit still. they are flowing rivers, i am a stopped dam. my life is not present, but my heart pumps, my organs function. i am alive, but i am not living. though i can live without you, i would never try. though i could survive without you, i woudl always want to die."
"will i wake to find you waiting by my bedside.."
-copeland
"the rocket summer + mayday parade = etna green"
"hoosier racing tires"
"indie community sings me to sleep"
"will i wake to find you waiting by my bedside.."
-copeland
"tree painting with pin ons"
"the rocket summer + mayday parade = etna green"
"i've got a gift for making people fall for me: i only publicize this in hope it will alter the charm"
"hoosier racing tires"
i have been absent
for over two weeks.
on vacation and reunited with pencils and paper, i began writing again in every location possible.
my pull to the computer has dwindled and i am finding it hard to even begin to express the things i have been feeling the past couple weeks. I can however, retype them.
on vacation and reunited with pencils and paper, i began writing again in every location possible.
my pull to the computer has dwindled and i am finding it hard to even begin to express the things i have been feeling the past couple weeks. I can however, retype them.
"Inhibition seems to be lost with childhood, then gradually regained with age. Shame it's not a quality that sticks...
My expectations were low, but the minor dances have reinstated points of my faith in society. Dance on, please. Dance on."
My expectations were low, but the minor dances have reinstated points of my faith in society. Dance on, please. Dance on."
"Why am I so nervous?
... because you look at her the way i wish you looked at me and i just don't get it."
... because you look at her the way i wish you looked at me and i just don't get it."
Our long long talk. Ohhh, our wires were buzzing. There have only been a few of these great, deep talks, but when they occur you have no idea how wonderful they make me feel. My insides soar about the prolonged exchange of words. Even if they do not happen as often as they could, knowing these conversations are bubbling inside us and could break into a rolling boil at any time excites me. We have everything I have ever wanted, and a few points more I would have never succeeded in imagining. This night was my favorite. Yes, it could have happened anywhere, but it didn't. It happened when i was feeling weak and vulnerable. We had this conversation at the perfect moment. The level we do not usually connect on, sparked and ignited and made a warm glowing fire inside me that flickered all night.
"I am 17. Seventeen: I've only just passed through the shallow end of my life's pool, but I'm already drowning. As I'm breaking surface and gasping for one, miniscule wisp of oxygen to satisfy my lungs, the h2o pervades. It spreads through the outside of my repiratory system, slinking by the mucus in my lung cavity as if it were oil. The extra weight creates a pressure worse than driving through the mountains or the force of a boulder on a broken legs. Such. Huge. Pains.
When you are younger, everything seems magnificently LARGE. From those giant Sunday brunch waffles to the firetrucks downtown, straight up to the skyscrapers you ventured upon in New York City with your Father a month before terrorists hijacked planes to fly off course and crash straight into their towering beauty. As you grow older, these things sometimes change; you begin to want more. "More waffles pleeeaasee!" you would say to your mother on Sunday. "More fire and excitement!" you would cry at the idle firetruck in which your interest has faded. As far as those towers went, my god they were massive, but other gods wanted them down. It is amazing how simultaneuosly you grow and everything else around you shrinks. the roads, the love, the awareness.
The passion and inspiration were always your tallest towers, but they too have been exterminated. Some of these things that hover, then shrink change you, like a piece of melting plastic. You warp into the appropriate shape, depending on the lick of the flames. You would think your life's pool would put these out, but not only is the water in your lungs, it's in the fire. As aspects of life begin to change, and (presumably) inevitably shrink, your pool grows. Your life gets deeper, wider (or maybe even more narrow) and the calm of the water turns off.
The whirlpool struggle begins.
You turn 12 and realize our blood is glowing into the the water. You turn 15.5 andthe pool widens vertically. You turn 16 and try a few backstrokes. When 17 hits you, you realize you are in the fucking ocean.
Suuuuuure, I have a life raft and the most beautiful hands I've ever held there to pull me out, but I realized I have been making a terrible mistake. As the pressure increased I franticly swam for the surface, i swear i was so close, then somehow my head hit coral and sand then broke into two pieces, rather than breaking the surface. I KEEP SWIMMING DOWN.
I suppose at this point, coral-rock bottom, you only have so many choices.
1. Give up.
2. Die.
3. Swallow, quick. Breathe in.
4.Run?
5.Jump, push, cry, fret.
6.Swim.
Aside from these responses, I have chosen another. I will not indulge in death. There goes 1,2,3. I cannot run away from this water. I won't fret any longer. I could swim, but my effort is lost. I would rather
When you are younger, everything seems magnificently LARGE. From those giant Sunday brunch waffles to the firetrucks downtown, straight up to the skyscrapers you ventured upon in New York City with your Father a month before terrorists hijacked planes to fly off course and crash straight into their towering beauty. As you grow older, these things sometimes change; you begin to want more. "More waffles pleeeaasee!" you would say to your mother on Sunday. "More fire and excitement!" you would cry at the idle firetruck in which your interest has faded. As far as those towers went, my god they were massive, but other gods wanted them down. It is amazing how simultaneuosly you grow and everything else around you shrinks. the roads, the love, the awareness.
The passion and inspiration were always your tallest towers, but they too have been exterminated. Some of these things that hover, then shrink change you, like a piece of melting plastic. You warp into the appropriate shape, depending on the lick of the flames. You would think your life's pool would put these out, but not only is the water in your lungs, it's in the fire. As aspects of life begin to change, and (presumably) inevitably shrink, your pool grows. Your life gets deeper, wider (or maybe even more narrow) and the calm of the water turns off.
The whirlpool struggle begins.
You turn 12 and realize our blood is glowing into the the water. You turn 15.5 andthe pool widens vertically. You turn 16 and try a few backstrokes. When 17 hits you, you realize you are in the fucking ocean.
Suuuuuure, I have a life raft and the most beautiful hands I've ever held there to pull me out, but I realized I have been making a terrible mistake. As the pressure increased I franticly swam for the surface, i swear i was so close, then somehow my head hit coral and sand then broke into two pieces, rather than breaking the surface. I KEEP SWIMMING DOWN.
I suppose at this point, coral-rock bottom, you only have so many choices.
1. Give up.
2. Die.
3. Swallow, quick. Breathe in.
4.Run?
5.Jump, push, cry, fret.
6.Swim.
Aside from these responses, I have chosen another. I will not indulge in death. There goes 1,2,3. I cannot run away from this water. I won't fret any longer. I could swim, but my effort is lost. I would rather
Float Out of my ocean.
leaving my double life and split head behind me."
"I will not resist anymore. It is time to harness my ideas and put them to work, my work. Though, my hands do not captivate the beauty of my mind, so intrinsic."
As for the current, how am I doing? How am I personally holding up? I dunno. The break with the band is serving well. That spilt in my head has severed off and the other side is starting to patch itself, like and earth worm of sorts. What happens when the break is over though? I do not think i will ever be ready for it to end, the break or the band.
Wishing my words would collide.
and reminding myself to be careful what i wish for.
Oh forget it. Offff to the zoooo tomorrow!
As for the current, how am I doing? How am I personally holding up? I dunno. The break with the band is serving well. That spilt in my head has severed off and the other side is starting to patch itself, like and earth worm of sorts. What happens when the break is over though? I do not think i will ever be ready for it to end, the break or the band.
Wishing my words would collide.
and reminding myself to be careful what i wish for.
Oh forget it. Offff to the zoooo tomorrow!
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