I thought I had something to say.




I was wrong.

Letter to the Kids

Dear Life,

Everytime I think about the ways i've fucked up in school this semester and how that affects the rest of my life I get an acute squeezing sensation in my chest. I also get sharp stomach pains. And this is occassionaly associated with a thick and heavy feeling inbetween by eyes. Sometimes the anxiety makes it so I can't keep still. While others make it impossible to stay awake.

But I have to remind myself that what's done is done. and cannot be changed. and shouldn't be regretted. we all fuck up a bunch. and there's no rush in life. I've always wanted to speed through my life and get everything done as quickly and efficiently as possible. to the point of over doing it, burning myself out, and causing myself unneccessary emotional damage.

My life, at this point, is endless. If i don't get into school this semester and i'm still sure it's what I want to do I can try again next semester. If my GPA is fucked up and i have to work a long time and my BA takes me 6 years. That's ok. because normal people take time. people are allowed to take time.

I am not an overachiever. I have no need to be the greatest because I have nothing to prove to anyone. Only something to prove to myself. And I need to learn to be satisfied with myself and with what I have to offer.

Maybe it's time I took a step back. because i've been so pressured by myself for so long I lost track of what I really wanted to do. It seems so cliche. But maybe I need to get a better view of the bigger picture to figure out what my next step is.

If i do not succeed now that does not mean I will not succeed in the future. Because one thing has failed me it doesn't mean everything will. Because life has been bad at these moments it does not imply that it will be bad for the rest of my life.

I will fail classes this quarter. I'll fail mostly all of them. And it hasn't been because of depression or a bad school or being in a new place. It has been me. And the affects of these things on me. Constantly, people think I am excusing myself with these things. But i'm not. I'm explaining.

And everyone will judge me. At first I hated this thought most. that everyone would think i quit and i failed and think me less of a person. But I'm prepared for that. I may not be a success in other people's eyes. But I can't always be a failure in my own.

If not today then maybe tomorrow. and if not then than the day after that. It is not the end of the world to take a step back and look at things and change my life. It is not the end of everything I've worked for to fail.

I am failing. And i have to make that ok. And it will be ok.

I've felt recently like the things I do now will affect the rest of my life. And it's such a large burden to have on my back day to day. And i can't completely escape this frame of thought. But I have to realize... The things I do today will affect the rest of my life. But it will not ruin it. And that's what I've been afraid of. And that's what has been killing me and stressing me out and hurting me.

If I mess up, it will not ruin the rest of my life. It will not. I won't allow it to. I have the rest of my life to succeed. And one failure won't change that.

Please, please, from the bottom of my heart I'm hoping to really truly convince myself. And to remember.

It's going to be ok.

List Me To the Moon

To do by 11 o'clock:

Clean
Dress
Pack
Print all articles
Wash dishes
start and finish 5 page paper
take out garbage

That's it!!

To do by Monday:

Read all articles.
do... 2 study sheets.
One take home final
Prepare for one essay exam
coordinate when I'm moving home
and stuff....

To do before end of life:

relax a little.

I am filled with the silence, the music, and the screams of the entire world. They press on the cage of my insides and i feel like i am crying even when my eyes are dry and i am silent.

I want so desperately to not feel so alone.

Desolation

I'm sad. I feel isolated. I feel so alone. This entire time being in LA i've felt physically and emotionally alone.

But right now I feel like all of the great relationships i've worked to build in my life aren't so great because of my shortcomings and my needs. I feel distanced.

I feel deserted.

I feel like this entire time i was forming these relationships around gaurds to myself that I know never work anyways. And these guards, i will admit, are sometimes (and other times not) in response to the guards I see others building from me. I feel like everyone has distanced themselves from me. and in return I furthered the distance.

What was I supposed to do? continually push?

ANd now the distance that I have created has become so great that there are no longer connections enough to bridge the gap.

I feel so desperate and hopeless. I feel like nothing could help me anymore. Like the cold has soaked into my soul.

And the only thing that has been able to revive any life feelings within me I could call genuine have been from the books I've read and I want to shirk life and my responsibilites and my connections and all of my people to dissappear and unbecome and to evaporate and to be absorbed

into these false worlds made of words.

I want someone to talk to, simply enough. to talk-talk to. to completely open up to. about the one hundred meaningless things and the two hundred meaningful things. I've realized that my life is lacking in communication with other girls. Because we are a different species within ourselves with different forms of communication and support. and i really wish i had that right now. i really really wish i had that.

at one point i saw my depression as drowing. very similar to literal drowning. As in being pulled under by waves and losing the feeling of control and the sort of hush beneath water. and the gasping and fighting and pulling for air. and some people get too tired of fighting and they give up. and the rest of us have to hope that we find refuge. or are saved.

but the feelings i'm feeling now? they're much less violent and strong as a struggle for life against the cruel elements of nature. This doesn't feel like death. It is desolation. I am in a desert and I have enough food and water to last me long enough. The sun isn't hot enough to blister my skin or anything as dramatic as that. I'm simply on flat desert land and caked dirt. no moving sand. and as far as my eyes can see in either direction there is only this. I could be lost. I could be going in circles because there's no way to mark or direct. only emptiness and desert. I feel hopeless that I'll ever find civilization again and my voice seems to have dried out other than the conversations i'm holding within my mind. It's long and monotonous. and most of all it is lonely.

I feel so done and tired with friendships and relationships. I feel so tired of the guess and check and the love and hate and the hit or miss. I am so tired of being alone and pretending I need no one. I need people in my lives. I need a social network. I need friends to talk to, and friends to party with, and friends to hang out with, and friends for all of it with. I need any sort of society. I need civilization again.

I will include no justification for my thoughts for they're only merely that: thoughts and feelings. And I wish I had something to share it with other than faceless readers. or none at all.

In Four Years

It's amazing how much I miss the space my things took up.

Amazing how I can feel so over.

I don't have anything to say anymore. I'm not angry. I just have nothing more to say to you.

Helpless

The past few weeks have been a really hard time for me. I think I always say that. But difficult is an understatement.

There are different sorts of pain. And I think this is just a different kind. The only time that I can imagine being so unhappy was when Adam was gone. But then it was a different sort of pain. It was growing through experience and hardships.

I feel this is for nothing.

I have never been so hopeless and agonized. I have never dreaded each moment. My depression has never been such an incredible blow as this. I cannot get through every day. I cannot remain optomistic.

There is no other word for it than "hopeless." And it scares me. Because I don't know what this sort of agony is capable of. I don't know what I can do. I am unaware of the next step in this. Can it get worse? Will it get better?

I'm going home soon. And a part of me is so afraid that when I leave here this pain won't leave my body. I'm scared this will always haunt me. and follow me and overshadow my ever move. What sort of fear has this failure caused? What sort of chances will I lose because of that fear? What will I regret when I have time to see the larger picture? What will the rest of my life be like because of the decisions I have made today?

Every time I look back at last spring it still hurts me. It's still this wound that refuses to heal. Will this time in my life be the same? Will I always think of LA and will it always break my heart?

I'm afraid for the rest of my life because I'm afraid of tomorrow. I'm afraid that at the end of each day I won't be proud of who I am and I won't be able to say that I was brave. What has my life led me to? What have I led my life to? The whole world is before me and I'm afraid of doing the wrong things. And i'm afraid who I am.

The only thing that has come from this is that it has cemented my relationships at home. And I know who my real friends are. Not that I wasn't sure before. But now I know that I can let myself go when I need to. And that they'll be there to catch me. And I hope that one day I can be a good enough person and be strong enough to help them stand if they ever need me to. I have love in my life. From my family, from adolfo, and from adam. And if it weren't for those three pillars of support in my life I would be lost. Their love has kept me afloat while I have been drowning. The whole world is wrong for me now. Except for them.

life sucks a lot right now. I"m trying to be better. and maybe today won't be so bad.

I'm crocheting a scarf for adam. and i made a tree of wires and pretty things.

going home this weekend. and then next week for T-day. and then the weekend after that.


and then i think i'm home for good. thank god.

I feel like shit. i've cried so much all day it hurts to breathe and open my eyes. I tried to wash it all away and it only tightened my throat.

my head hurts. my body hurts. everything just hurts. everything is just so tired and sore and worn. I'm so drained.

It's just so... shitty. i haven't eaten and there's nothing to eat in my house. i've slept too much but i feel like it hasn't been long enough.

Brighter than Sunshine

I have a playlist of songs that make me feel as if my heart is opening. blooming. The songs touch me. ANd whether i'm in a wonderful mood or an awful one they move me.

And I love feeling like I have some sort of internal life and world. That only I get to be a part of. That no one can exploit.

I have a part of me that is sacred and wonderful and beautiful.

And I have seen this in so many people that I have loved, respected, and sometimes hated.

And it's nice to see it in myself.

I am in love with what is Essential Humanity. And nothing can take that away from me.

Today I feel at a loss. Misplaced. Like something just isn't right. uneasy.

I get this feeling often. So I won't give any importance to it.

I think it's masked hunger, homesickness, over slept petualentcy, and government aimed anger.

Don't ask. long story and maybe just a mood.

But still the resounding question is...

what am i doing with my life?

It sounds like only an excuse but i wouldreally like to pick a profession or field that in 30 - 40 years I won't regret. And i feel like my long term happiness and life satisfaction depend on my choices now.

And I reallly reallllly don't want to fuck this up.

MOst people don't put all this pressure on themselves. But if i don't have a plan or a "what to do next" i feel like i'm failing. I feel like it's ok to change paths and it's ok to take steps back occassionally. I think it's ok to be slow going.... as long as you know where you're going. what you're heading to. what the long term plan is. which is really just product of my parent's being proud of the goal oriented person they raised. but now i'm goalless.

i'm another one of those people that i just never wanted to be.

Water and Sun to Soothe Me

So no one was there. Not Adolfo or Grace or my Mom. Only my dad. and he never knows what to do.

And so I sink into bed. not moving or blinking or speaking. barely breathing. I curl into a ball and I know that emotionally i'm falling into one million peices.

And my dad who never knows what to do tries to wake me even though i'm not sleeping. and he tries to get me up. he tries to call for help. But he doesn't get it. He never would.

In my dream I am so depressed I am paralyzed. And my dad is helpless. because he doesn't understand depression.

But I don't care. Tears fill and fall in my eyes but I'm not seeing anyways. I'm frozen. I'm constricted. Everything within me is contracting to help from falling apart. But i'm sinking and falling and i'm lost.

And my dad is on the phone. he's calling adam. And adam is there. he takes off his jacket. He is methodical.

And he climbs into bed with me. And something in me is comforted.

And then I wake up with him there. we're next to a fountain, a water fall. And the architecture of the building is magnificent and the sunlight filters in on slants and beautiful rays. The people walk by and their footsteps make echoes and everything is sort of tranquil. We're in an art museum. And It's ok. I look around and adam is still there.

He takes me by the hand telling me that sometimes it's just good to be here because it's a good place. Because the water and sun can soothe my heart. And he knows that. And he understands.

And he takes me by the hand leading me to different walls and stairs and elevators. And I'm in awe.

The Conflict

I"m considering going home. forever going I mean. I don't know what to think.

And i've heard the general feeling of how you start off owning things until eventually the things own you. I think i've come to that point. because one of the big things concerning me is what i'll do with my beautiful red couch. I mean... the stools and desk and coffee table and tv stand too. but mostly the couch. and i could just bring my bed home with me. use it and such. but i don't know about my beautiful red couch. which makes me sad.

well that and giving up my hopes and dreams, throwing in the towew, calling it quits. that sort of thing. and taking longer to finish school than originally planned.

which totally sucks.

but i don't know. i just don't know if this is really what i want to do. english i mean. I'ev come to the realization that i actually hate reading my homework. that i hate english literature. and i hate american literature.

the only thing, at this point, that i ENJOY reading is latin american and spanish poems and novels that've been translated. which is actually not help me at all in regards to careers or classes or being relatively happy in my life.

and so here's my arguement. I think i could do better in school at home. i feel like i'm wasting money by half assing classes here. I mean, as it is i spend a third of the week depressed. a third of the week at home and the rest i'm "ok." and i'm not happy. i'm just ok. and i get so depressed i can't get out of bed. i don't want to go to class. i don't want to do my homework. and i don't want to take care o fmyself. which is childish. but i let it happen. i don't go grocery shopping. i don't feed myself. i miss whole days of classes and keep it secret. what am i REALLY achieving? and i know i should give it more time or whatever but it's really now or never. because i'm supposed to register for my classes next quarter. and if i register and stay here longer than my dad will buy me a house here. and then i'll be stuck here until im done. wow. it's heavy.

and maybe if i go home i won't do any better about slacking off inmy classes but won't i at least be happier?

or what if i go home and think i'll be happier but in fact i'll be just as bad off if not worse.

i have to remember that i hated my job. and i hated how overbearing my family is. and so yes, being here is escaping me from that. i hated working at the office everyday. i hated it. and i hate family weekends. and then i'll have to deal with the dissapointment and feelings of failure. that i let myself down. because i can't even begin to describe what high standards i hold to myself. and because i'll be so insecure then i'll feel as if everyone else is looking down on me.

what then?

but then there's good stuff. i can go back to CSM and takedifferent classes. and maybe i'll find somethign that makes me happier. or maybe i'll just take better classes and try to get into a better school. and that'll be a lot better for me. or i think.

but i just don't know.

i want to move back home. but i don't know if in the end i'm just shafting myself. what if i allow myself to go back to community college and i just never leave? what if i get sucked into "the hole?"

But i'm SO unhappy can i really do nohting about it?

and if i were to move to the home-ish area maybe eventually i could move out with some friends. and take my red couch.

anyone have any advice? anyone willing to tell me what to do?

exhaustion and excitement

My birthday was relatively uneventful. Just some lunches here and a dinner there. But still absolutely wonderful due to my most awesome peoples that i love ever so very much.

home again this thursday.

it makes for fun to only have 3 days in between my home visits but also for exhaustion.

I should be doing homework and instead i'm spacing out on myspace. bad habit.

Here's my food situation: i have nothing to eat in my apartment. like noth-nothing. but i don't feel like going grocery cause i'm gonna leave in two days for 4 days and therefore waste my food. it has been recommended that i go grocery but only go a little bit. but that's SO inconvenient. so... for the next two days i'm surviving on whatever i can scavange here.

another thing: my phone is broken which is like three bits awful on bit irritating.

I feel the colors and set up of this blog is a thousand times more attractive than my other one.

Pass the Night

There have been times where the words of a writer have spoken to my soul. and awakened within me something powerful and natural and entirely myself but nothing like the self i'm aware of. The bed of the letters and the formations of the words have made me both uncomfortable, happy and satisfied. It had awoken within me new hungers and new heartaches.

that nothing else could fill.

I have wept for the loss of a life that was never mine and sometimes was never real.

Books and words have created me and destroyed me.

I long for the something more that my literature has promised me.

There's been a lot of reassesment as of late. and there's been BUNCHES i wanted to bloggerize. but they all came and went and so....

today is tuesday. that's all.

She was a Mermaid

Wanna know a secret? I have these cute little moles on the insides of each thigh. they match each other.

something else? My entire life I didn't want to get married because it seemed so strangely sexist. And then I fell in love and understood. Nature v. nurture. I guess we'll never know.

Adolfo is coming today. He's my favorite. And i'm sad that he's sad at home. But I hope he'll be happy here.

I found a poem by pablo neruda in regards to mermaids:


The Fable of the Mermaid and the Drunks
All those men were there inside,
when she came in totally naked.
They had been drinking: they began to spit.
Newly come from the river, she knew nothing.
She was a mermaid who had lost her way.
The insults flowed down her gleaming flesh.
Obscenities drowned her golden breasts.
Not knowing tears, she did not weep tears.
Not knowing clothes, she did not have clothes.
They blackened her with burnt corks and cigarette stubs,
and rolled around laughing on the tavern floor.
She did not speak because she had no speech.
Her eyes were the colour of distant love,
her twin arms were made of white topaz.
Her lips moved, silent, in a coral light,
and suddenly she went out by that door.
Entering the river she was cleaned,
shining like a white stone in the rain,
and without looking back she swam again
swam towards emptiness, swam towards death

Being Judgemental

She has this way of baring all of her teeth. like her mouth becomes a rectangle. it makes everyone of her looks look like a nervous smile. She looks so uncomfortable and awkward. and when she manages to keep her ninety degree mouth closed she looks too tight lipped. I feel she's very unattractive.

She has no prettiness or delicacy about her. or any mysteriousness. she isn't even cute. just awkward. But mostly it's her mouth that bothers me. When she talks it looks clumsy. The way her face moves makes me imagine a circus clown purposely and ungracefully tripping all over himself.

and then she tried to grow her hair. and cut it just right to hide it. but it didn't work. not completely, at least. I admit, her hair is cute but somehow her mouth still shines through.

Her ugliness makes me uncomfortable.

Pomegranate Wine

Two separate bodies with definitive lines traverse the mountains
in different directions
Their feet mold to rocks and desert
to meet again at midnight
and commune of one another as if made of bread
and pomegranate wine.

Their skin is cool
with moist lips
and silent bodies.
They taste of sun and sugar.
Or sweet in sweat.
They radiate and evaporate.


____________________________


They have been the creators of distance
of the conversions of meters to miles
of productivity and sustenance.

And they have been the creators of gardens.
And they dig shamelessly through dirt, with mud in between the fingers and always a thirst
searching for the threads of answers
to know whether this is blessing or curse.

They are never together but cannot be apart.
And they travel these starred hills
where spirits lay in waiting
for a God less vindictive.

And they all pray
for a blessing of a curse.

and peacefully
quiet and cautious
like white moon whispers

they begin.

Helpless

I not so secretly hate life.

I hate school. And I hate homework. I hate fucking LA. I hate cars and driving and plastic bags. I hate groceries and i hate cleaning. I hate apartments and elevators and idiot people. I hate the people I see on a daily basis.

I just hate life.


And I don't know what else to do.

I hate LA. I hate life. I hate everyone I know.

Oh yes. very much so.

History

I would erase the blog. start all over sort of thing. but i guess I'm just not that kind of person. one that prefers a clean slate. at least not with things like this.

I told myself for so long that I journal (and blog) because it's like an emotional photograph. I get to snap the picture and there it is. preserved. forever. And in 3 years when we don't remember how awful we looked in that haircut or when we all gather to laugh at nasty old outfits. Or when we want to be sentimental and say "awww. we were there once" the pictures are just there. for open viewing. which has it's drawbacks.

but they're memories nonetheless.

And I can't just erase all these years of exactly what i was feeling or what I was doing in all of these blogs. It's too private. and a lot of the times i'm ashamed of what i've written. but they're there. and with reason.

so that in years to come I can say "hey, I was there once. but I'm not anymore." So i can remember who i was. and reference who i am.

It seems silly to want to remember such bad awful things. But I feel like it's the only way I can really be honest with myself.

Sometimes i still miss you. like taking you off my christmas list. like not hearing that you're happy and wonderful in a world you've made. I'd like to hear that.

Sometimes i still resent you. compare and contrast. and remembering what it was like to be demeaned. I'm glad i don't have you to secretly rejoice when i can't complete something. or to laugh in my face when i make mistakes. I don't miss that.

I guess that's the way things go. Turns out i didn't need you afterall.

but i still hope you're happy. because i never wished you bad.

My life is under renovation.

Reorganization.





and untitled denial

Human Sacrifice.

I guess it's time that I come clean.

I have doubts. I have anger. I hold things against you.

I'm guilt ridden for all of this because I told you not to. But it's different. You still see her. You're still friends with her. Your friends bring her up and they like her more than they've ever even considered liking me. You have her things on your wall. You have a life completely removed from me. And I can't ever tell you not to. I can't tell you to not be friends with her. I can't tell you that you violated something deep grounded when she was in your house again. I can't tell you anything. You have a life completely removed from me.

I do not. I have given everything up. again.

You have not.

And i want more than anything to let go of that.




(I know we've lost something we'll never gain again. I know we're simply prolonging the inevitable)

I haven't told you this but I've come to realize you'll what I'll miss most.

http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/994/593/1600/saved.0.jpg

I thought i was pushed to my limit's end. I thought all of me was exhausted. I thought i had a load more heavy than I could bear.

And then i met morning anger.

Scattered Thoughts

you're stretching me and stretching me. Pulled thin.

I accidently touch myself and wish it were your hands instead.

What old things wasted. what old things wasted.

unsure and afraid.

breaking point.

You have no power on me now. no power on me now like you did before.

Your words and sad sentiments like rainy days long passed.

It's summer. Can we let ourselves be happy just for a bit?

I am now. now. now.

Do you Remember That?

"Let's Just Say it was a Memorable Impression"

A date?!?! what am i? absolutely crazy???

I thought i was supposed to be love hermitting. I thought things were supposed to stay casual. I mean, sure i've been entertaining ideas of casually seeing some people here and there. And sure, i complain all the time about being lonely and desperately horny... But a date?!

and don't tell me that one single date is nothing in terms of committment. that's a lot.

I've committed to interact with a boy for over an hour. me? pleasent for over an hour? What am i supposed to talk about with a person I don't know? no social lubricant.

dry interaction. with a stranger. in a very awkward situation.

And here i was contemplating my social inadequecies. and i've set myself up for a date. daaattteeeee.

What do I think is going to happen? oh god. what's going to happen?

I mean, we'll talk. maybe we'll snack. i'm hoping to god he doesn't expect to eat. you've all seen me eat. i'm messy. i can't be messy in front of a stranger in which i'm casually pleasently interacting with for over an hour.

And what if it goes well? what if i like him and he likes me? How does dating even go in our quasi adult world?! do i call him? wait for him to call me?

what if we like each other so much we go on a second date. and what if a third? do i have sex with him then? no... we have sex when we're ready.

I'm not even ready to trust someone enough to date and i'mthinking about being ready to fuck?

Adam's coming home in like six days. then what happens? I doubt times one million that we'll get back together but it'll be such an emotional mess. And i'm supposed to rope someone else into this? Isn't it bad enough that I've dragged other boys into it? god.

I'm so dumb. sssoooooo dumb.

ANd i'm so "jaded" and distrustful and angry that i barely believe we'll go out tomorrow. He'll call me and cancel. or he won't call and then we just won't go out. I have issues right now. As is obvious. I can't date someone now. I'm insane. people don't want to date insane people. and insane people shouldn't willingly date.

I need time. I need time to get over my issues, not be insane, and be ready. But who has that sort of time? I don't. I have the remnants of a night and the starts of a morning.

Date. God, who do i think i am?

There is no Truth. Not in this dead beat alley.

Fate has stopped along the way and this is our last chance. It never Comes back.

Take me one last time.

Passion

I'm pretty sure that I look much more like a doll than I did 5 years ago when I played one in the nutcracker. I think it's the curls.

Today someone guessed that I was 14. wow. talk about a demotion.

JohnFromTheBank called me today.... awkward. weekend plans... maybe. But he breaks my NoHMB rule... Although i tease Andrea all the time about making dating rules... It's ok, i usually break mine anyways.

I'm so in love with Clive Owen.

I hate School quite officially.

IceBreaker: If you were to tell the best story in the entire history of mankind in one word what would it be? why?

It's been officially decided...

Life with weather like this is one big ass bucket of crap.

Also:

time, life, people, boys, noise, days, waking, school, and work all suck as well.

(Sometimes i'm glad i don't have a gun. because PPMS time i'm likely to shoot first. think later.)

Note to self:

really now, just give it up.

Slowly Migrating back to old blog...

Due to counter i know there's like 1 person who checks this normally (ok, so there's 3)...

So, my email address is sydpanball22@hotmail.com I'll send the address to you.

Maria

I listen to this song as proof of your infidelity. You crazy cheating heart. Cheap heart. My intensity. Wasted intensity.

The mornings are always good. Renewed strength and renewed hope. There is no love in me anymore. Not for him or her. Not for them. The bastards, the liars, the always pretenders.

And somehow by twilight i'm always crying. For me now, not them any longer. In outrage, not saddness. This makes me stronger. Stronger. Stronger than them all.

Lovesick Lover your the one I want to save from this Haze.

And i want to live like this forever:

listening to gentle passionate classic guitar and reading. Taking long baths and fantasizing of kissing different lips. Of my hair all up with pins to make me feel refined but my legs bare of everything.

I want to live forever feeling so empty. But not the bad kind. THe good kind. clean. cleansed. free of everything weighing me down. Just empty. Empty stomach and mind. Simply echoes. Simply free. naked and unafraid. free.

But my own mortality, humanity affects eventually.

And in Holy Times

I feel so full and slow and drowsy with sex. I feel soaked in blood. I feel swollen with it. Every part of my body is aching and satisied.Every ounce of me is moaning.

Once and twice. And i'm ashamed and proud. Feel dirty. Feel free. And i feel like i can do this without him. That my sexuality isn't tied between the laces of his, the drawstrings of his, the fabric of his pants.

And then in quiet i fall asleep. Dream of biting his thighs. Dream of his fast moving hands. the way his body bends with orgasm. I hear his moans and feel him in my mouth. And i want to be on my knees again. So much a woman taking him. I know the every curve of him.

And so i wake and furiously, angrily I am again. I bite his name into the sheets and my hand clenches pillows with force. This is brutal and i force it. And it's hard and it chokes me. I cum again.

And immediately my whole self is heavy with it. tired and sluggish with it. drugged with it. And i search him out. wait a little longer. wish a little harder. Refuse to cry and i think of only the feeling of biting into his thighs. his hips.

Watching him jolt with pleasurepain. Wanting to bite all the way through.

How Could I Love You Still

He calls when sleeping. middle nights.

and my first reaction is that it's a dream. and i let myself roll comfortably into the sound of his voice, thinking "thank god he called."

But sleep fades and i'm outraged. "How could he simply call?" And i want to scream that i hate him. i hate him. That i didn't ever want to hear the sound of his voice.

But it's a lie. so we laugh and small talk. And i share my happy moments he no longer deserves to be apart of. And then the call dies.

Simply. without justification. without goodbye it simply drops. drops. and i'm left awake with his thought half finished. lonely again. can't sleep again. tossing and turning.

Already cried. Already came. nothing works. nothing works.

The night goes on and the cd finishes and only gradual time allows me sleep.

When did I deserve this?

I hate you. I hate you because I can't help but love you. I hate you because how much you've hurt me. And how you never really cared about that. I hate that i have to question whether or not you used me for sex. I hate that I've always known what a coward you are. I hate all the sweet things i've. I hate how i allowed myself to be your cake. Allowed myself to feel the guilt i've felt.

I hate how i can't just shake it.

I want to be free. free again. free from the hurt. even the hope. I want to be free of the memories. free of the fear.

I want these years to dissappear. I want May to never come. I need to get away. get away from the me that can't help but love you. take care of you. forgive you. always give to you.

I hate and need to be free of the self accusation within me. I've been this person for so long and used it as excuse.

I need to leave that behind. but i don't know how.

Road Tripping

Home from trip.

Many pictures taken.

Many miles passed.

Many realizations come.

Many moments to remember.

Bust mostly, Adolfo is a thousand times wonderful.

Details to come.

I guess nothing will ever be the same from here on out.

I guess i should have never expected anything more.



There is nothing poetic about heartbreaking fact.

At least you were nice enough to let me down easy

Liar

I don't think of you as an artist. You shape shifter. fake lover. with the paint on your face and too many pretensions.

I don't think of you as a man. You coward thing. weak thing. You lies and dust and kisses thing.

I don't think of you as a woman. Your thin bones and your lack of hair and your small breasts that i never wanted to kiss.

Artist man woman. Liar.

You remind me of too many books i've read and your always just raw, aren't you. Monotone is who you are. Monochramatic. anything but monogamous. You remind me of too many dirty things we pass over on street corners and shake our heads at. The nights get cold beneath newspapers, your fingers grey from ink. Your shoes with holes and licking lips.

Never mother abortioner. Too much alcohol abuser.

Couldn't even do those right, could you.

Shape shifter, fake lover. With your pictures and bad hair and secret vacations. I want to hold you down. cut your wrists for you. (you like that, don't you?) carve my name there for all the world to see.

You are mine. You were mine first and mine always. And it just tore you apart to know i never wanted you, didn't it?

Couldn't ever want such a play thing. such a pretender. bad actress with her bad lines. Bad actor with his bad lines. Which are you? tell me.

With your ink stained fingers and blood stained lines. give me a break. Self centered whore. Puppykitten licking at my feet thing.

How old are you again? I don't remember but i'm sure it's much too old for these games with no dice. Shake it. Take it. Work it. Feels good, doesn't it?

press against me a little harder and close your eyes a moment. And i've never hated anyone more. Liar. Faker. Pretender.

I don't list betrayals anymore but i vomit them in toilet seats like secrets. Whore.

Miles couldn't ever be enough distance. and i want nothing more than to spit in your face.

I love You

And he saves it. And there are pink ribbons in her hair. And the music says "i'm so hollow. i'm so hollow"

and she's in love again because she allows herself to be. FOr a moment, for a moment.

"it's just not enough. you deserve more than that."

Everyone assures her "you'll be fine. everything will be fine. It'll work out..."

and she wants to say thank you but deep down she's always known that. Always known she'd love again. Maybe someday. Always known that no matter what tomorrow will eb tomorrow.

So thank you. I know.

I do how I do. and this one isn't for you.

THis is for me.

The Sound of Fear

He reads and reads. and knows. always knows.

Never writes. never calls. never writes or calls.

And in the middle of the night with only a TV glow in her eyes, she turns to me with a look of fear. she says "please" and "heart broken twice" and i try to block out the fear there. laced there. saturated there. I'm the only one with hope left.

I'm the only one with fear.

I look forward to and dread each day. Please. Please. For the love of god.

And in paper dusty rooms with love songs and offical lettering she repeats "Lord, have mercy." like a plea to skies. Like a plea to skies.

And in the rain the water writes her name, they are praying too. They whisper softly:

He reads and reads and knows. Yet never says I love You Too.

March

Classes Ditched: @ least 10.
Wounds procured: bruised hip, wrist, and elbow. scratched finger and knee. Gash on elbow.
Times gone running: @ least 4
Weight Lost: -2
Letters written: 3
Times Cried: @ least 3

Summary: It's been a pretty humdrum month. Very low key. very contemplative. Nothing exciting or extreme in any sense of the word. Just chillin'... Spring break is most definately due.

And he says "it's ok to be like this, you're learning how to be only half of a person right now" and nothinghits home harder.

And the road has never seemed more furious and i've never been more afraid.

And all i can think about is how fucking much i miss you.

In the Sun

I picture you in the sun wondering what went wrong
And falling down on your knees asking for sympathy
And being caught in between all you wish for and all you seen
And trying to find anything you can feel that you can believe in

May God's love be with you
Always
May God's love be with you

I know i would apologize if i could see your eyes
'Cause when you showed me myself i became someone else
But i was caught in between all you wish for and all you need
I picture you fast asleep
A nightmare comes
You can't keep awake

May God's love be with you
Always
May God's love be with you

'Cause if i find
If i find my own way
How much will i find
If i find
If i find my own way
How much will i find
You

I don't know anymore
What it's for
I'm not even sure
If there is anyone who is in the sun
Will you help me to understand
'Cause i been caught in between all I wish for and all I need
Maybe you're not even sure what it's for
Any more than me
May God's love be with you
Always

- Joseph Arthur

We Might Last Longest

My life can be summed up in one moment:

I sat indian style in a basket of unfolded clothes in my humongous overly filled closet going through boxes of stuff i don't like looking at on a normal basis. There's a going away party going on in my house, sad songs are playing on my computer. And all i can seem to think about is finding my polaroid camera.

And of how young you look in those pictures.

Where Do We Go?

All peaks are followed by drops. drastic ones.

i feel melancholy. i want to go to bed and stay there. all day long.

(pout)

what are we doing here?

We're Back and You Tell Me I am Home.

I'm going to miss these shortcuts. I'm going to miss these roads. I'll miss the sunsets and rises. I'll miss the rain on my bad days and i'll miss my driveway.

Most of all i'll miss The City. My city. more my city than it was ever anyone's city.

Soon it'll be time to make another place my home but maybe i'll never be able to rid myself of the sentimentality of Home.

All life long she holds off hope knowing it will never come. She checks to find it empty.

Is dissapointed either way.

The Tide is High

Maybe i never meant to ruin them. maybe i never meant to fail. Maybe i never wanted to dissapoint.

But i did. I did and i do and it probably won't ever stop.

Maybe i was the one worth milk and sugar and no one ever saw it. Maybe i had the ability to be everything i wanted to be before I was ruined.

Maybe i'm ruined. maybe i'm temple walls thrown down and alters burnt out. Maybe all this time i was golden and i only looked everywhere else for it. Maybe all this time i was golden and i never knew it. Maybe all this time all i wanted was for you to see how golden i could be.

Time passes and life happens and we all negatively affect one another. Like arms amputated. She got it to a tee. I wonder if she has both of hers still.

I wonder if i ever had any at all. When is a good time? never. just never.

I wonder if you know my name come bedtime. I wonder if he masterbates and thinks of me as he cums.

Sometimes i fantasize about the story of O. the devotion there. And i wish you could want me enough to consume me. to consume me like that.

With each day passed i lose hope just a little bit more. a little bit more. Each day i take one stp closer to "them." To be just "them." I'll always be your memory. I'll always be the one. But day by da,y moment by moment i give up a little more. I break a little more.

Past midnight the ship sinks and you feel it. something there unnamed but felt anyways. Late nights and made dinners and far off hopeless hopes. That's all i am now, isn't it.

You don't read anymore. you don't write anymore. I know deep down you care cause that's the kind we are, the tattoo scar cares, you and i. Each time we love we engrave it on the walls and wait for them to crumble. They never do. they just grow full and more full. crowded and more crowded. Till you can barely make out each signature, each "i was here" with date. But even as they fade we trace our fingers there, places we've traced so many times it's just indented now. And we remember.

Bad days we remember all but the bad. Good days it's only the good. No matter what day it is there is still a void.

I wish i had some great life story to tell you, some moral to any of this. But there's none.

Only my suffering in my world. and your suffering in your world.

You'd think that we would commit some things to memory forever. to heart forever. but the feelings drift away, sift away until your grasping sand with open fingers.

Each letter i write to you, each letter i've written to you. the words, sounds and souls of them all. No matter how many i give it won't change the facts. Won't change the trembles, the mates, and all the sad memories.

I always believed in love but never soul mates. only marriage and work and loyalty. But mostly just love. forever love. did i ever not dissapoint you?

Is it so hard to ask for a little affirmation? The tears are few and far between but they come. For you only. like waiting waves. like lips long forgotten. I won't be the first driven with grief to insanity. I won't be the first to never forget you. We'll start a club and brand our thighs and chain ourselves in gold.

We'll throw up once a week to remind us of this sort of pain and cut our wrists to honor your memory. And as we frighten you more and more away we'll grow more and more devoted. Because giving up is not for our kind.

Is this quitting? is this giving up? hell, is this giving up without even trying?

Life Preview

Do you know what it's like growing up in a household centered on 70's soul music?

Let me illuminate the situation:

We, all five of us, have an embaressing penchant for sad sad love songs with cheesy cheesy lyrics. It's really our only bonding point. I mean, play a song that goes something like "too much too little too late to somethingsomething it's ooovvveerrr" and we all all at least know the chorus. And none of us can hear the word "suddenly" without adding a "sudden-lllyyyyy life has new meaning to meeeeeeeee. when there's beauty uuup aboove things you never take notice ooooof you wake up (pause for dramatic effect) and suddenly you're in loooveee." seriously. It's like a fucking boys choir. with girls. and nongod music. and 70's beats. and high pitched off key voices. DAMN.

Now this music, it doesn't just extend to the occassional record player, oh no. We all have our respective mix cds. and what do certain people do? people who won't be named as my sister. They listen to them on FULL blast on saturday mornings while showering.

But please, step back from the situation. give a look around...

sad love songs right now make me want to shoot MY FACE off. no joke. hands down.

and no, i can't be once, twice, or three times a lady. i do want him to make it like it was. it is too much too little too late. and NO i don't love it when we're cruising together. music is not played OR made for love. we can NOT cruise cross continent, thank you very fucking much.

and yes, while your parents were listening to the beatles or some other such hokey yellow ribbon bullshit mine were most likely getting high at makeout parties complete with slow jams and a disco ball. So, a warning to the kids: don't go to such parties. you'll be like mine, pretty damn awesome but still stuck with kids at like... 19.

they are pretty awesome though... those old pictures of my dad's afro and my mom's sexy flyaway hair cut. ::sigh::

i still hate sad love songs. hell, i take it back, i hate happy ones too. What should i do!?!? listen to daniel bedingfield for hours while reading old emails of how much he loves me?!

wonderful saturday...

overview of my night? Saw the girl that wants my exboyfriend who i want back. with cute hair. cute hair. stupid bitch.

Stream of Thought

I had a cry moment today.

I was in the car with my sister after a couple days of trying to form out the words i wanted to say. The streetlights were golden in the rain. The cold was creeping from my fingertips and the same song was playing over and over.

"Colors seem to fade" he sang. As if it were just for me.

And each syllable was like a contortion to my tounge. Like work. Like choking.

As if saying it then would make it more real than the whispers of my mind. More real than the nightmares and sad journal entries.

"Sometimes i'm afraid he'll come back and not love me anymore. And i guess that's what i get for still loving him. Becaus ei will no matter what he does when he comes back."

And my eyes stong and burned. ANd my fists clenched. and silently i bit down on my lip to hold it all down.

I'm so sick of having to expect the worst. I set the people in my life up for dissapointment. And everytime i love them there's a part of me that reminds me that they might never love me back. And i work so hard to tell myself to no longer hope.

And when they fail i'm just as dissapointed at my victory. Everytime i'm right about the people in my life it's bittersweet. More bitter than anything else.

And i'm sick of expecting the worst. hoping for the best. I want to hope an dhope and hope and let that be enough. I'm a good person. i know i am.

I make mistakes, i fuck a lot, i can be mean or judgemental. But i'm a good person deep down. because i can love and i can give and i try so hard not to be hurtful.

And maybe it's time i admit to myself that i deserve to expect the best. Because i'm the best i can be and it's time i expect that from the people around me.

Because i am worth loving. still loving. and he needs to. he needs to still love me. because i need him to prove me wrong. prove to me that i wasn't right when i said he didn't love me.

But at teh same time, i've had my fair share of love. of falling. of being. I just don't want it to be the time to let go.

I miss him. i miss him SO much. I miss being held. and not just by anyone. but by him. i miss feeling protected. i miss feeling beautiful. I miss him so much that i can't sleep. That all i can do is eat. That i have dreams upon dream upon nightmares upon nightmares of somethign so simple as a call. Because i've been waiting and waiting and as much as i hate it i know i can't stop.

I can't be a cutter. I can't just cut people out of my life. Connections with me never end cleanly. I just don't know how. And id on't even really want to start. i don't want to be the kind of personwho can close a door, turn a back and be alright. It's just not who i am. It's just not what i do.

I want and i want. i need and i need.

And for now, that's just going to have to be ok.

And Tonight...

I miss Batman. I miss Goldust. and Max and hell, even Bobby.

Most of all I miss you. I miss your dimples. I miss laughing. I miss playing. And hugging. and I miss the way you smell. I miss feeling breathless. I miss hearing "I love you" back.

I miss the way you'd wait for me. I miss having you in my bed. I miss you telling me what to do.

I miss your house. and your family. and the streets i had to turn on to get to your house.

I miss the way you talked to me. and the way you looked at things. I miss watching you draw and I miss the beauty in what you made.

I miss the smell of your room and the feel of your blankets. I miss the mornings we'd crawl in together.

I miss our sex. The sex i no longer remember.

I can't remember our last kiss. I guess people don't remember things like that because they think it'll be the last time. And then it just is. And it slips away and away and now i really have no clue.

You kissed the top of my head in the parking lot (the one where you first said i love you. the one we used to have sex in. the one where we cried so many times before. the one we smiled in so many times before) right before you left. And i think it made my heart hurt. But the last real kiss?

I remember that we didn't kiss the day i cried over lunch. Or the day we took a nap together. I can't remember what happened after that. It must have been when we had sex that one friday or tuesday or some day. January 13th. mayb elater, maybe sooner. That's the dayi cling to.

I don't remember what it's like...

i miss walking places with you. I miss the night with you. I miss your tv and your movies and i wonder of your house has changed at all.

I wonder if you've changed at all. Soetimes i think you'll coe back grown beyond me. You won't find me attractive anymore. interesting anymore. worthy anymore.

ANd i guess that's what i have to prepare for. and whatever comes is what i deserve for loving you. whether it be the worst or the best.

But i will say that I still wish I could go home to you everynight.

It's just gotten harder to dream.

Oh, and last night?

I began sewing my thing. and i made muffins. and i refuse to take a shower right now.

And In My Dream there were Pigs

Past couple of days have bee chock full of lonely moments. The kind where i don't want to be alone but there's no one to cal or no one to have come over, or nothing to take up my time. Doesn't happen often given that i'm with adolfo most waking moments. and that i don't usually mind being alone...

I miss my stupid adam.

I had a really bad dream last night and i felt like i couldn't wake up. my sister called me, solved the problem. I wanted to call him, make him whisper in sleepy voices that everything was alright.

We all know how much my dreams emotionally affect me. It's just so stressful. Not only do i get scared from teh dream but because it plays on so many phobias i get anxiety issues. and i just, it stresses me out. LIke i need to talk it out but who wants me to call them at too early in the morning to talk about my whacked out dreams that don't matter to real life anyways!?

::sigh:: i feel yucky.

:mega sigh:

i'm too emotional to type.

Baby

I think few people can say that they've been deeply surprisingly afraid of newborn babies.

they're just creeeeeepy. they give me the heebie jeebies. :blech: ew. ::shudder::

seriously though, i clicked on a photoblog and i swear the first picture was this newborn beign footprinted and somethign inside of me flinched, jumped, and clenched. and no, not my starfish. (rusty sheriff's badge?)

and i quickly closed the window. first reaction. now i'm going to bed and i might get nightmares. how awful.

Oh How i Pretend

Being Slutty is Fun...

Will You Help Me?

So here it is, plan and simple (is anything ever simple?):

I don't know how to go on without him. I don't know how to accept that it's over. that i've been defeated.

Because no matter how much i hope and how much i can convince myself. No matter how happy it makes me

He just doesn't want me anymore. He only calls once a week if even that. He never emails or messages or anything. And when he does it's perfunctory. But he hasn't emailed or messaged anyone else. He's incredibly Busy. I mean, if we were all in france would we spend all our time on the internet?

But how long will i make excuses for him? When will i learn not to?

I asked him and he couldn't even answer. He couldn't even say "sydney, this is over." Just avoided the question, red the rest of the emails, called to talk about nothings.

(they weren't really nothings. they were nothings that made my heart ache.)

He couldn't even answer through email. just a simple, "no."

Adolfo said we all know i wouldn't be satisfied with a yes or no answer... But anything would be better than just leaving it in the air as it is. Leaving me to draw my own conclusions so as to realize that i need to move on.

I don't want to move on.

Shouldn't forever mean at least a little while? Is giving in really giving up?




and if i stop letting him break my heart, what will take it's place?

Of Course

I'm tired. I'm cold. I don't want to go to work. My body is sore. I'm hungry. I can't sleep. I'm scared. I'm stressed. I'm worried. I'm cranky. Demanding. Needy.

I dread. I yell. I dance to make it go away. But then it doesn't go away. I felt proud when it said i lost two pounds. I felt ashamed to be proud. My hair is a mess. My hands don't seem to work. it's raining out.

I think i'll go eat worms.

What if he comes home and I realize I'm much more in love with all I idealized him to be?

Today i realized i'm an awful poet. and an awful writer. and now i have no idea what i'm doing with my life. what am i doing!?!?

And then there he stood in front of the class all balding and grey haired and for some incredibly unknown reason i was overcome by the urge to ask him, "was i really so awful to him so that he hates me now?"

As if this stranger full of poetry would know. As if any of the million people i've asked would know.

You haven't answered me yet.

I have a secret journal although i'm not inclined to secrets and all i write about is you. Even more so than here.

A Spy Among Us

It sat in the middle of the room
Watching us.

Acting as the
Critical eye of god.

Eavesdropping into our conversations.
Labeling us.
It thought to itself:
“This one here is pretentious.”
Or:
“That one needs to hush.”

And it’s grey foundation
Full of squeaks
Started to creep it
Away.

The orange and yellow arms
Processing the data
Whistling with excitement
Readying it for storage

In some great
World database.

So later,
In the middle of the night
When insomnia hits

Dressed in an alluring nightgown
With a cup of sweet tea
Destiny can come uncover it.
Log in.
Reply to some.
Trash the rest.

And organize our lives.

Freewrite: Write abou this big ol' hnk of something that was in front of the class covered.

On Cancer Fears

Homework: Change, cycles, loss

In some woman’s liver
Not so far away
A very friendly white blood cell
Approaches another.

They decide it is love at first sight.
They settle in, begin a family.
At first there are only a few children.

And these children,
Knowing nothing about
What is and isn’t socially acceptable
In today’s highly educated and civilized world
Begin to interbreed.

They slowly form a settlement, a town, a city:
A mass.

Until one day,
The kind host of this
White Celled Wonderland
Begins to have feel a pain.

But these self righteous cells
Will have no part in this nonsense.

This complaining and prodding and sampling
That the woman is simply condoning to.

There is no need to villianize
This mean old woman with
Her doctors and nurses and X-rays.
It is quite obvious.

They revolt and grow in power
Against this tyranny. Protesting,
“Human rights can’t stop our fights!!”

Until,
In some white blood cell
In some woman’s liver
Not so far away
A bit of radiation quite sweetly
Meets another.

They shake hands, introduce themselves,
Put their hard hats on and
Begin to work.

And with very advanced technology
And natural curiosity
As simple tourists
They rampage the city.

And soon,
The complex world of cancer
Crashes.

To save a
Much more intricate one.

Just to Get it off my chest

I'm like two steps beyond stressed.

I need a wind down. Here goes:

my mom is sick. again. and yes, this does make me very very apprehensive.

My sister is sick. again. and yes, this too makes me equally apprehensive.

I know i can do nothing about the two of them but i'm incredibly worried nonetheless.

And then: Sean (my cousin) just moved away. Cora's leaving in a month. That means two people gone from the office = stress stress stress

I'm leaving soon. omfg. stress.

Adam Blues = stress.

I haven't been sleeping or eating well.

Today while eating lunch (early lunch with too many helpings of food) i almost wanted to cry because i wanted to stop eating and couldn't. i just couldn't. it was frustrating and sad all at once. I think i have an eating disorder where i eat too much and figure my problems can be swallowed just as easily.

And i have really weird ass cramps. and school is going crazy. and blah.

I just want to sleep and sleep and sleep. And i want everyone to be healthy. healthy and happy.

If everyone were healthy and happy and i could get some sleep i would most definately be satisfied with life.

And i want it to stay sunshiney forever.

There. i feel a little bit better.

He called me. talked for 40 minutes. said he wrote me an email but didn't. Just a touch dissapointed.

But i got to talk to him. which was nice. all questions remain unanswered.

whatever.

When Will This Get Better?

I feel this need to talk to someone but i know it won't go anywhere. I don't even really need help. there's no advice to give. i jsut want to talk abou tit. to talk and talk and talk.

But who calls someone for that? how irritating. Instead i'll jsut yammer on and on and on here.

exciting.

I just don't see how we came to this. how i've become this. i'm like 2 steps to completely psycho. as it is i'm obsessed and ridiculous. but i feel like i can't help it. i can't help it. how DID we become this?

Over and over and over and over. i think the same like 3 thoughts all fucking day long.

so many ridiculous questions i don't even want to know the answers to. statements whose response i can't begin to hear.

why. why. why the fuck did this happen? what did this to us? how could this happen? how?

I can't sleep. i can't think. i can't focus. the only thing there is you. you. you. you.

everyone keeps telling me to stop. but i can't seem to.

I tell myself things liek "maybe you should lay off the internet for a while.." cause i know if i weren't to check then i wouldn't know and i woudln't obsess and it'd get better...

But i can't help it. i can't help it. i can't help it.

I like repeating things 3 times. it's pretty ineffective but makes me feel a little better.

How could he?

To my All

I'm sorry my hair never flowed in the wind. That i never wore colors that brought out my eyes. I'm sorry i was neither mesmerizing or intoxicating. I'm sorry i wasn't sweet voiced or sweet anything, really.

I'm sorry that i was no writer's cliche. Or artist's conception. I'm sorry i wasn't beautiful.

I don't think i've ever known how to be.

I'm sorry for never knowing my heritage but somehow bending back to the same weak willed woman role. I'm sorry for reading too much and never memorizing poetry. I'm sorry i couldn't paint or draw or smear my hands with colors and make something we could all call art.

I'm sorry that when it rained my hair never worked. that when i was happy i wasn't also pretty. I'm sorry storms were never romantic to me. That your heart never caught at sight of me. I'm sorry that i could never be model pretty. model thin. model clean.

I'm sorry i've never known how to be deep, dark, or jaded. I was only always complex. there's a difference. I'm sorry i never learned the difference between love and passion. intelligence and wisdom. I'm sorry i've never taken consequences into thought.

I'm sorry I don't look good in dresses. That i'm nothing romantic.

I think i'm even sorry that my hair was never lighter. That my skin was always brown. Because we all know that brown girls aren't beautiful.

I'm sorry i didn't even have pretty asian girl hair. Mine just frizzes. I didn't even have typical asian features.

I'm sorry i wasn't blonde and pretty. I'm sorry i was neither strong or delicate. I wasn't ever frail or well built.

I'm sorry if i never had a compatible sense of humor. Or i wasn't fun enough. or carefree enough or anything enough. When i tried i guess it all came out wrong.

I'm sorry i couldn't play any instrument or sing at all. I was never musically inclined.

I'm sorry i never wrote good poetry. or good stories. and always wished i could.

I'm sorry for wishing. i'm sorry for hoping. i'm sorry for everytime i made you feel like a dissapointment. you weren't. i'm sorry for claiming that i've worked so hard. i'm sorry for giving up.

I'm sorry for wanting you. or needing you.

I'm sorry my eyes never sparkled or twinkled or shone. that my smile didn't either. I don't have the ability to be rosy. or graceful. That being sad is confused with wishful. and thoughtful with angry.

I'm sorry i didn't laugh more. That i cried too much. that i was never comforting to hug.

I'm sorry that i've always been hard to fall in love with. But so easy out.







(I'm only half a body without your embrace.)

In a Nutshell

I'm jealous.I'm jealous.I'm jealous.I'm jealous.I'm jealous.I'm jealous.I'm jealous.I'm jealous.I'm jealous.I'm jealous.I'm jealous.I'm jealous.I'm jealous.I'm jealous.I'm jealous.I'm jealous.I'm jealous.

I, Sydney Tan, am (which doesn't happen that often) confessedly jealous.

Jealous.

Stupid girls with their stupid hair and stupid pretty smiles. Stupid girls with stupid arms and stupistupidstupid happy looks. Stupid girls being everything i'm not except i'm stupid too. stupid stupid. stupid. stupid.

Stupid hope. and stupid jealousy. stupid heart. and stupid dissapointment.

Stupid girls with stupid names and stupid everythings.

Stupid girls who probably fall for your sensitivity and light colored eyes. and your hair. and your perfect body. and your godforsakingly cute dimples. stupid stupid girls. stupid girls who probably don't complain about your facial hair and love the same kind of music as you. that, when you take them home, probably get along swimmingly with your friends. Stupid girls all better than me in a thousand different ways.

(sigh+ pout + sad love song = sniffle)

Stupid ___ with his nice cuddling body. and Eric's awesome everything. stupid me trying to split things up. and it not working because i love you still. godfuckingdamnit. stupid stupid stupid.

Stupid saddness and stupid love. stupid stupid love. stupid clingy feelings stupid pushing people away. stupid distance. stupid poems and stupid songs.

And i guess while i'm complaining i should add: Stupid me. stupid stupid me. for 1) being perpetually awful 2) perpetually awful to you 3) forbeing perpetually awful and pushig you away 4) being perpetually awful, pushing you away, and then sincerely hoping for you to meet someone new. and 5) having all of that be my fault.

stupid life. stupid stupid stupid life.

Sleepover Sunday

I waited all week for word. Received none. Come sleepover morning there it was. Simply only.

A note.

That's it.

Spent all day dissapointed. Cried for you to pass the the time.

Counted down the days till you'd be home again.

family yelling. pms and guilt. wanted you here.

Thought about god and church and how maybe i'll start going. maybe i'll start believing.

Would anyone believe me?

wanted warmth.

And It's You

I am happy.

I mean, i have my emotional moments still. but for the most part: i'm happy.

completely wonderfully deliriously happy.

I have awesome friends. no contest.

I have no drama. (not really anyways.)

And i'm absolutely completely wonderfully deliriously happily in love.

And that's enough for me right now. Everyone says i'm being ridiculous. That i should give it up already or that i'm investing too much into things too quickly or whatever. That maybe i'm pulhing things from sky castles or happy memories or this pleasent gap called my ass.

And i am. i know that deep down as much as i don't want to admit it.

But for right now... I really need to be happy. I need to wake up each morning and not mind it too much. I need to keep my head up and the work rolling. I need to be ok right now.

And if that means i'm going to allow myself to hopelessly love adam then so be it. So what if he never sends message or email. or that he doesn't call. that he probably never thinks of me. that he's going to start moving on too.

That's ok. i want him to be happy too. and he's going to do whatever he needs to to be happy.

But for right now the only thing really pulling me through is Adolfo (unwaveringly)

and sometimes the knowledge that you have my heart.

I smile to myself about it all day. i think of you and smile.

and that's what i need.

so everyone who thinks it's wrong can try and find somethign better for me.

They aren't going to Find it.

is there still hope?

You All Know You're Jealous

First post of the day:

::megasigh:: he so called me. he called me. he called me.

:sigh:

i'm such a silly girl thing. i'm so excited that i don't eve have my glasses on.

that and i'm freezing my ass off.

god! i don't even knowwhat we talked about! ew. next time i'm so going stalker on his ass and recording the conversation. LOL. no really.

he said he'd call me again. so yay for that?

PS perfect timing. i regret nothing. yea. take that.

i'm lying. i'm going to wake up one day and realize i fucked up a good chance with a really great guy for someone who might not ever love me agian. AWESOME.

i don't care much for that anymore. the fact that he might not loveme back.

the way i figure it... I Love Him. And that enough for me.


ew. and i SO spilled the beans. i'm ashamed. he says "so tell me about this new guy you're dating?"and me being who i am, which is a complete and total dolt i say "oh. well we're not"

"you're not dating anymore? why? what happened?" and i i just COMPLETELY blurt out in half a breathe : "yeawellthethingisirealizedi'mstillinlovewithyousoiwaslikeyea?no.andsowe'renot. but that's besides the points. ADOLFO'SBEENREALLYGOOD!"

and theni breathed. and talked abotu adolfo's new shirt. he allowed for this changeof subject. THANK GOD.

when i first heard his voice i was so happy i almost cried. ALMOST. didn't. i will when i go tak ea shower.

AND NEXT WEEK ON DAYS OF OUR SYDNEY:

we'll count all the ways we canoverthink and over feel into a 10 minute phone call.


ps. we all know i am.

A Lesson on Longing, Mistakes, And Distance

Assignment: Tell about a dream you've had.

She kneels before him.
THe rough ground imprints her knees.
She winces in pain.
And hides it.

He lays in window Light.
He's sick or tired.
Perhaps both.
beseeching.

And he places his hand
against the bare of her neck.

THe blankets and sheets lie
in knots.

He pulls her in.
Meets no resistance.

They rest their heads
Against one another
And breathe.

Too afraid to kiss.
They breathe.

There are no words.

Utitled For Now

And she says:
"please. Not now.
I'm not ready for this."

And he disregards her.
Pour his heart out anyway
onto the floor
Allows it

to wet her ankles
the edge of her skirt.
get into her shoes.

to increase her discomfort.

And all she can do
is cup her hands
To bail the water out.

A Secret Letter

Dear You,

I miss you something terrible. It's awful. awful awful. All words fail me.

I think o fyou. constantly. and i almost wish you'd tell me to quit it. that you're over me.

This week i'm officially "breaking up" with my new him. although i never considered us officially dating. You were always just my boyfriend.

I'm trying so hard to be happy. and i am. when i'm with adolfo. when i'm with andrea. these breathing times when i can sorta let it go.

But i don't ever forget.

I desperately wish there was something i could do. There isn't.

Please forgive me in my lapse of good judgement. Forgive me in my weakness.

"It's a mother fucker. being here without you. I won't ever be the same."

I feel as if i'm being pathetic. and desperate. please come prove me wrong.

I am queen of emotional confessions.

dear you,

I miss you terribly. awfully. unbearably.

please come put me back together.

Yours Always.

Road Tripping. Can you Dig it?

ok! like the fiftieth entry for the day... but to FINALLY talk about my weekend!

like omg.

let's make a list:

1. left for LA on friday afternoon around 3ish. stuck in traffic for EVER. played double digits and out of state. beginning of bruise. danced and made traffic friends (by friends i mean people who gave us crazy looks or shook their heads in disdane). Adolfo drove most of it. me clocking in 3 or 4 hours and int hat time going only 100 miles. give or take.
2. Ate at the apricot tree. wasn't so bad.
3. Arrived in LA at around 12 ish. 1ish. was lost in LA for a bit. we drove through: historic filipino town, beverly hills, korea town, ended in little tokyo. finally find hotel. Check in. change. pillow fight. sleep.
4. Went and saw Cal State LA. it was pretty. a touch sun shiney. i liked, indeed.considering major in english - creative writing. and then a minor in french or spanish lit?
5. Breakfast in... where was it? no! it was like 12ish. and we walked around this... i don't know what to call it... mexican district? either way, it was like the LA equivalent to Mission. and then walked through the Jewelry District.... (we were lost on foot. silly in deed.) soon change to banking/ financial district? find park. find restaurant. REALLY good pasta at CPK. indeed. walk back to car like 50 million blocks away. go through big scary tunnel.
6. Back to Hotel. check out their Japanese tea garden. see little old ladies in kimonos... like... erall japanese people. in real kimonos. lol. watch a movie. take a nap.
7. Drove past china town and thai town. Hollywood blvd. shopping + walking + eating. clothes.
8. Hotel. Ready.
9. Clubbing on Santa Monica Blvd. oh yes.
10. Hotel. warm clothes. walk around little tokyo at 3ish in the morning taking pictures. getting scared by darklike people behind mission fences. still traffic on highway.
11. Hotel again. change + scary movie turn off early + sleep.
12. Awake at 10:30. check out at 12.
13. Sunset Blvd. Breakfast at IHOP. lol.
14. Beverly hills again. Rodeo Drive. Obscene comments for rich white snotty people.
15. road home.
16. Adolfo drives. confirmation of bruise. stop at Andersen's. was aaaaaaaawwwwwwwfffuuulllll. fun drives. and love and such.
17. home around 930ish?

For picture coverage try : http://codezlenom.blogspot.com

I would write about all the happy golden moments inbetween but i'll save those inside me better. sacred. private.

Twenty Somethings

I'm having eczema breakouts everywhere. it's pretty gross. I think it's a shower thing... But no one believes me... Zelda Sayer Fitzgerald used to have eczema breakouts. Hers were stress induced. and it'd get so bad throughout her entire body and she wouldn't be able to move. Yea, book i read.

Either way,

I'm so sad about my somethingsomething that i can't seem to sleep. I wish i knew what to do. I wish i knew how to fix it. But really, there's no way. no way to fix anything. It's just something i have to deal with and bare.

Bear...

(sigh)

I guess it's just another way of Life that sucks fuckign ass. I'm listening to my sad songs playlist on iTunes. And i'm deathly in love with the eels.

Do i have anything important to say at this point in time?

nah. I never do.

Except that it's laura's bday tomorrow.

And These Are the Moments of Life

A Moment

I'll listen to this message a thousand times. Just to hear your voice.

I'll write a thousand letters that i'll never send or post.

But it all comes down to this:

I'm sorry for all the times i took you for granted.

Clubbing last night.

Fun. like always. :mega sigh: how i do love clubbing.

How i do love adolfo.

And dancning.

And dancing with adolfo.

::megamegasigh::

Getting ready and cleaning up before leaving to LA. am VERY tired. room QUITE a mess. much homework to be done. what a weekend.

I know what i want. I know what i need. I feel like my life is falling apart and there's a very immature part of me that does in fact, want to go get my razor, cry in a corner and make pretty patterns.

And then i'm glad i grew out of that. Yes, it's my first instinct at times like this, when it feels like everything is spinning out of control and my life is no longer mine. But i don't.

But i do know what i need:

my center.

I need you here wordless and understanding. Defensive and protective: of me. not yourself. Just like always.

I want that easy fit. i want that. i want that. I want the sound of you around me, your familiar smell.

But you're not here.

_______


I"m considering dropping a class or two. i'm like borderline breakdown at this point.

On Thursday Nights the Lights Dim

(homework: poem on another culture)

Shoulder to shoulder
The bodies move.
Shirts thrown,
Skirts rolled.
The flash of skin
In darkness

Illuminated momentarily.

Everyone dips and curls
Sensually.

“Shh,” she whispers
As her hand finds yours:
Pulls you in.
Pull you out.

Breathless.

And she stands before you,
Hips swinging.

Affirmation of Immortality.

Your eyes shut.
Your heart to the music beat.

And the crowd pushes closer.
Pushes closer.

And He's Waiting

(freewrite: "imagine you're in a room within your heart. in this order. What do you hear? there is a window. what do you see outside of it? Someone is there, who is it? What are they doing? THere's a door, it's locked, what opens it?)


The bass is high,
It speeds and slows:
Moving.

The sky outside is scarlet:
It sings.

And in the corner he stands
Dressed in black.
Cool as ever.

His graceful hands trace beauties
You could never keep without him
Onto the walls with a thin, black brush.

He stops.
He sees you—
Watching him.
Enchanted.

He cries for you.

His sighs
And tears

Washing away the locks
And doors
And walls.

Love comes.

Everything clears:
The sunset
The paintings
The music.

There is nothing.

I just wish i knew he was reading. That he still cared.

Brandy Morning

Fell asleep against his knee, the most comforting thing after it's been so long.

Woke to watch the sunrise through red lace curtains.

A touch of shame. embaressment. Mostly just gratitude on the most romantic drive home ever. THe fog settling over houses, above it all, the sun rising, full moon still low.

His warmth.

After such a long night. of calling too many people. or not enough.

There's nothing like Betrayal

how could you?

how could you lie to me like that? abotu something that mattered so much to me.

and just turn to her like happy and your back on me again.

you fucking asshole. you ASSHOLE.

yea i bet she's fucking happy you went to france. so glad you had a safe trip and you're nothing but puppy smiles tripping over yourself to apologize.

what a fucking liar.

why would you do that. WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT.

why would i do this? ask questions i'm not ready to hear the truth for. look through thigns i'm not ready to see. break walls i'mnot ready to walk over.

i just can't believe you would do that to me. You of all people.

"oh, i'm so sorry. she meant nothing to me. i was SO awful to say those things. i only did it because she made me. i'm a snivelling pathetic little shit with no sense of loyalty. no sense of love."

wow.

honestly, i'm completely taken aback, shocked. I didn't think you had the power to be such an outright asshole. no, really, of anyone i know you were the last i figured that could do such a fuck-ass dick thing. and know it. yea, so you've hurt me. but that could take a back burner, blamed on myself. but this? wow. i applaud your skill.

i guess i just figured... with how much you meant to me, that i could ever mean so little to you.

I just remembered the time you put that box beneath my car to find after school. It was raining. there were trinkets inside. I was your queen. Like a treasure hunt i followed you to the restaurant. And there you were, waiting with flowers.

How i loved you then.

do you remember what we did last valentines? i can't seem to remember...

We made so many days important they all swim together. birthdays, anniversaries, last days together for a week.

god, how i love you.

Haikus

02/07/06
(assignment: write five haikus)

______________________


The warmth of his breath
Gasping along my bare neck—
Against the cold night.



____________________________


The large orange Moon
Hangs low over distant lights.
Waves crash onto our feet.



________________________


Cars sliding past with
Rainbow water trails flying
Against the highway.



_________________________

Tangled through her hair
He pulls in closer. Closer.
Breathless sighs, melting.



_________________


The beautiful boy
In the loud music club light
Kisses other boys.



_____________________


Her smooth polished hands
Fall into the thick dark mud
Without shame or guilt.

I haven't cleared you from my room. my life. I wake up and I hold the gifts you've given me. your pictures still on my wall, your name at the tip of my tounge.

I don't expect anymore. i barely wait.

i don't want to think of how i've hurt you. I've been so absorbed in my own pain and your own apparent apathy (defense, i know) that i didn't stop to think. To think how angry you might be. How so much of this is my fault.

I was ridiculous to think you could forgive me all my mistakes.

I'm sorry. so sorry.

Unplayed Piano

I don't know why you never call. WHy i expect you to. Why i send emails. why i think of it all day long.

Are you angry? angry how quickly i've grown used to another boy's lips. How i can't remember how you and i used to be.

It's not the kissing i miss. Not the sex like i thought it would be. Maybe it isn't even the love. Because we've gone over and over what love meant to me.

It's the way you read me. Knew me. picked up all my signals and gave me what i needed. it's the easy body language. the comfort. the safety. The way my body could fit perfectly into yours and have that not taken out of context.

sometimes i miss the pain. the affirmation of reality.

I always thought you and i didn't have real conversations. I've only just realized it was only the sound of one anothers voice we needed.

Remember when i told you that really crappy shampoo analogy? If anything I hope we both learned that lesson.

Because sometimes i think back to all the times i could have kissed you. and didn't. The times i could have just let you love me. and didn't. all the time i wasted hating andhurting and pushing and pushing and pushing you away.

And now there's nothing left. no love. no sweet. no goodnight calls or reminders. there's nothing.

No matter what i do or how hard i try there's still only nothing. Not hope or wishing or faith could change it. Nothing.

Here is our lesson. Here is our regret.

strike that. here is my lesson. my regret.

I'm glad you've learned to live.







__________________________________



PS i would have done anything for you. would have died for you. given my everything only and always to simply belong to you. you could have beaten, bruised, and branded me. if only itmeant i could prove how much i loved you. how yours i really was. Chained me, raped me, hidden me. As long as you kept me. as long as i loved you. 'tell it like you still believe the end of the centruy is a change for you and me.'

Nightmares and Dying Wishes

Her voice is weak through the hallway. Sounds of showers and rising steam. She calls you. feeble.

THe last word we've ever wanted to describe her. Sick. Tired. older.

WE never wanted to realize your mortality. "please" you say, begging. This can't be true, this can't be true.

But it is. One by one her organs revolt. test after test. knife after knife. surgery after surgery.

It approaches.

You never want to grow up. not in that way. not in that way. Never want to be the adult. Never want your mother in the ground.


She is strong and beautiful. Thin and tall. She is wonderful. wonderful.

Goddess in god. Light in light. How many words will never begin to describe her?




"Please," I say.

On her knees praying: begging.

I'd give up the world to keep her.

Believe

And he says "just like you said it would"

and i know he's addressing me. and my heart goes out to him. the same hear that's been his these so many years. And i know the situation and the inappropriateness of it all...

I feel like a liar. Like someone with no heart. Like this entire time i've been doing these awful things and saying these awful thoughts and feeling these awful feelings. And they were all undeserved. inappropriate. Wrong. Just wrong.

Sometimes i forget about the seperate lives rule and in the back of my mind i think "oh, i'll just tell him later" but there is no later.

he no longer addresses me.

I shouldn't care, shouldn't mind. I've a new 'he' now. full of jealousy and history and sweet thoughts.

"just like you said i would." over and over it plays in my mind. you remember me. you think of me. maybe once you took me to heart. maybe now you still do.

And that's enough. just like you said it would be.

I never meant to Love you still.

Depth is Overrated

Things that make me sad:

1. when congressmen (women too) only contact voters seeking "donations."
2. When certain people don't answer certain calls after someone who will remain unamed (me) finaly gets over the big gulp of hurt pride enough to call.
3. the fact that my cousin can't come home yet. stupid military.
4. the fact that i'm such a horrid prude, sometimes.
5. being so tired i have chest pains and am on the verge of crying all day long.
6. the main form of communication with a best friend of mine is accusatory blog entries. It's ok, i still love you.
7. being interminably irritated with my dad for no reason. i feel bad but can't stop it.
8. having too many periods. can anyone say my third in like 9 weeks?
9. the thought and fear of moving away to be alone after it's taken so long to find friends that are worth it and then when you move they'll learn how to live without you and then you won't be friends anymore.
10. (this one makes me the most sad) SCHOOL.


Things that make me feel sexy:

1. doing homework fresh from teh shower on my bed naked
2. dancing in clubs with barely shirts on
3. giving eyes
4. adolfo
5. wearing skirts. and/or high heels
6. low cut shirts and push up bras
7. wow... so it's been a stretch to think of that many. i give up.

What a stupid night

Dream 1:

I was angry and so i wrote a text mesage to someone. said something along the lines of "yea. my aunt and cousin think so too. god. they're so nosy." they find my cell phone. find the text message. they cry and leave. angry.

I'm so guilty i don't know how to bear it.

Dream 2:

there's a damily party and two large cats. One looks like it could be a cheetah mixed with a bengal. It's roaming and running the streets while all the kids chase after it. it confuses me. I continue to walk and there's a larger lion cat in a cage. EVeryone stands and wants to touch it. I see her chains and begin to cry. And through the tears i see her flesh rotting in several places. THere's holes in her body where you can see her insides. I start screaming fo rthem to let her go. She needs help, is the thing. She'll die, is the thing. They'll all get in trouble if someone finds her here like this.

I'm so guilty i don't know how to bear it.

____


I wake up feeling sick.

i fucking hate you. i hate teh power you haveove rme. i hate how you constantly dissapoint me. Do you realizet aht? YOU FUCKING DISSAPOINT ME.

how's that for hurtful. how's that for mean.

well how about this one.

i'm dating someone new. i'm dating someone better for me. i'm dating someone you'd hate to see me dating.

take that. take all of that. yes it's mean. yes it's unfair.

yes it's a thousand times selfish.

but of all people you're not allowed to hold any of that against me. ANY OF THAT AGAINST ME.

you're a bastard. a fucking jerk.

WHY THE FUCK COUDLN'T I BE ENOUGH?!

I hope you're miserable without me. because you'll never get me back. you'll never get me back. you'll never get me back.


(andi know you'll never try and i'll let that hurt me further)

On a Scale of 1 to 10:

The past couple of days : 2
Yesterday : 8.4
Last night : 10
This morning: 10
Right now: if we're lucky we'll say 3.

If she sent one in this is what they'd say:

"I never said I love you."

"I hope you realize that Paris is worthless without me."

"I love him when he makes me cum."

"I'm too afraid and confused to let you break me down."

She has a Secret Diary

This isn't the first time. Won't be the last.

You call it unlove. I call it unlove.

Let's just call it niether of us care anymore.

Forget those days. forget those hurts. Forget the whatever fell between.

Forget it all because you have to.Forget it because nothing will ever change the fact that i'm not strong enough for you.

Because I'll always love you.

And that won't ever be enough. (just like you loving me won't be enough.)

_____

In dirty white washed bathrooms she leaned her head against the walls and cried. Yes, cried for lost loves. And afterwards she didn't call you... Called a closer someone. Of course she didn't tell. She wouldn't have told you either. It was just the comfort of another voice. The comfort.

Always, all those years, I saw it as you were dark and jaded. Hard and tough. Everything i couldn't be.

And I could be a believer, a hoper, a lover, a magic in disguise come smile with me.

But that's not who you are anymore. Not who i am.

Together (but not together) we've grown up and grown strong and let's be honest, we don't need each other anymore.

If anything... I need you so i can believe again. If anything... You need me to be angry at.

M31 (Her Location in Space Against a Field of Nothing)

I have seen the rings of Saturn.

Pleiades, her sisters.
Orion’s nebulaic sword.
The red war of Mars.
The connection between
Aldeberan, Antares, Aquarius.
The Dog Star.
North Star.
Majors and Minors.
Twins.

The haze of Andromeda from light years away.
Her screams above the cliffs.

And I have stood there too,
Hair flying into the wind
Soaked and curled with saltwater spray.
Chains along my arms.
Eyes searching the sky.

Feeling the weight of infinity.
Of self-sacrifice
Looking back in time.
Fearless.

Prepared for Salvation.

(Homework Assignment: poem on ordinary extaordinary)

The Summer Prelude

The Spring enters with trepidation.

A young, naked girl dipping
The end of her toes in a lake.

Slowly,
Afraid of cold.

A foot comes next.
Bare leg.
Goosebumps along her body.

Sunshine is not constant.

Diving or screaming,
Hiding or smiling,
Between the waves of clouds.
Teasing.
Begging.

“Jump in,”
She says.

(freewrite excercise: Begin a poem with 'the spring enters with...')

Second Edition

And (as contrary to previous posts as it is)

for the first time in a while (a bit, perhaps?)

I miss him. I realize how much i loved him and i miss that.

And the sad part is... I think most about his body. The way it moved. the way it looked. how undressed and golden we were at one point. Plain faced: I found him utterly breathtakingly beautiful. And not in the sense to demean his masculinity (cause apparently i do that often to boys around me.) But because he was. and because i loved him. I know there were bad times. But more often than that were those heart swelling good ones. Where it didn't hurt. When looking at it all didn't hurt.

Times when i wasn't ashamed or embaressed. times when i could feel. oh feel.

But it was so easy to be angry while he was so hairy. So dirty. So equally cold.

I suppose there's a lot to be said for comfort and sex.

Tuesday? Indeed.

I feel quite accomplished today. I did all of the following:

woke up early
took a shower
did my homework in bed
got out of the house early enough to grab a chai
made it to school and class early enough to read
completely focused in math class
went to all my classes
made of list of everythign that needed to be done and when for the entire week
bought my film book, registered in both places, and emailed my teacher.
read all 30 pages of the Keats poems i needed.
went to class again, finished lab.
went home early.
worked on math for like 10 minutes.


See! i'm proud... aren't you?

Unloading.

Sometimse i get sick of wearing my ring. Albeit Pretty...


Sometimes i get sick of hearing of him. I don't want to know whose going to whose house where i wasn't invited. I'm sick of people thinking i'm not over it. and i'm sick of people not getting over it themselves.

He's left me. He's broken my heart. And so i'm moving on with my life. I refuse to make any apologies about it anymore.

I've been sad. I've been hurt. I've been so many goddamn things.

But now, I'm angry. I'm hateful. I'm bitter. And for the first time i'll admit... It's his fault. There's a list of thigns i like to blame on him. slightly because it gives me excuse and justifies my actions. partly beacause he inspired it. I trust less than i used to. I believe in myself a whole lot less than i was prepared for. I'm scared and i let that rule my actions. Which is slightly his fault. He has instilled the belief in me (ok, we'll be honest, he didn't putit there. but he sure as hell reinforced it) that i'm just not good enough. I'm practically impossible to love. I'm emotionally inaccessible in ridiculous ways and i'm just all around unmanagable. And yes, that's my fault....

But i will no longer feel guilty for hurting.

He's left me. He's left me. He's left me.

He doesn't call. he doesn't make attempts.

If he really cared he could have tried to save it.

And that's ok. I've come to terms with that. For all these past months id tell myself, like a mantra "a lot can be said for hope and love" and i was always secretly hoping you wouldn't leave. that you'd realize i could be worth staying. I kept wishing, very selfishly wishing that you'd stay. Deep inside me i still harbored the hope that you'd get so far as into the plane until it hit you. Movie style.

But you won't realize. and you won't stay. You won't turn back around and climb up my window sill.

And now, even if you did... I wouldn't take you back.

Door Closed.

I Loved You. I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for. But "us" has ended.