Gonna make, make it ri-i-ight

Starting tomorrow... err.. today... the path to happiness, confidence, and brilliance.

I'm keeping a food diary to make sure I don't have anything too unhealthy or embarrassed to actually admit to. I need to change my diet so I don't have a damn heart attack from energy drinks.

I'm also going to write something I like about myself and something awesome that happened every single day, and something to improve on. This way I can help really analyze and help myself at the same time.

I want to really make a change.

I cannot sleep.

The idea that someone could ever envy me is the most boggling idea I've ever tried to understand. Yes, more complex than physics and changing sodas at the theatre. I guess it all goes back to the fact that I don't see what they see.

I see:
-A face that make-up sometimes help, but leaves me unsatisfied
-Crooked teeth
-Shy personality
-Nervous habits
-Too much skin
-Someone trying to hard to stand out in a crowd of a million

They tell me they see:
-Someone beautiful, "a thousand times out of their league"
-Always smiling
-Outgoing and a bit outrageous in casual conversation
-Confidence
-Thin
-Someone who stands out

...................................................................

I wish I felt comfortable. I have my moments, but really I think it's because I'll never be able to do what I yearn for...
I want to sing. It sucks when you're not good enough.
It makes you feel like you can't be good enough for anything... when you're not good enough to do what you love most. How am I supposed to ever feel confident?



"Open up the holes in my hand, feel the wall crack once again."

THE LAST MINI SNICKERS!

So... I've been listening to music for the last 4 hours. I love Automatic Loveletter. Juliet Simms has the most stunningly imperfect voice I've ever heard. Everything she sings I feel. It's magical.

There is one mini snickers left sitting before me from the several I had. There's also an empty mt. dew can next to my bed. Boy, am I healthy!

The reason I'm typing a blog is to make note that I'm perfectly content right now, and I need to remember that I'm okay with being alone and not doing all that much for the next time I am sad with myself.

I also have so many written pages I must type..... tomorrow? Maybe. I've been so busy lately!

I want to write secret messages, too!

You are the person I love to hate, hate to love, love to love, hate to hate. Every moment is new and fresh. It's hard to figure out what we are, if we are even anything. But no matter what you're there, present in my life. I can't rid myself of you, believe me I've tried. Something makes it last. I get jealous of you a lot, I feel insecure in your presence when I'm with a group... I don't think you know that. Yet, when it's only me and you I feel as if I could never do wrong. It's such a weird imbalance.

I feel like I have no idea who you are. I get jealous to see that you feel so much for the friends that I introduced you to. I want to be close to you. I want to know you, what goes on in that strange, immature head of yours. But you don't let me. You distract yourself from life, and ignore those pushing and pushing to be close to you while instead focusing on those who couldn't get away faster. I don't think you realize anything that is right in front of your eyes.

Sometimes, I use you. I hate that I do. I can see it, realize it, process it, and then I pretend that it's all okay, since I do love your company so much. Still, I use you for my addictions. Needing to be loved. Needing to buy things. Needing to sing. Needing to get away. You provide all those escapes. I don't like thinking that I'm abusing our friendship because you do mean the world to me. I don't think I've ever had a friend care so much about me as you do. You put forth all the effort that I've always wanted, and I think I take it for granted.

You are my life's greatest mystery. It's so hard to feel like I'm even close to you, and at the same time I feel like I'm closer than anyone could ever dream of to you. I suppose I wish you'd be more upfront. I hate having to crack codes and smiles and actions to find out how someone thinks and feels. I know you try, more with me than anyone else. I know you care. I know that I'm the one who knows the most about you. I feel so lucky to have that, to be able to say I know you best. But at the same time, I think there's a block. I think there's a whole other wall built up that I would give anything to tear down.

I want you to know that people think you're great. I want you to see that you're beautiful inside and out, and anything you are unhappy with can be changed. I want you to see that if you were to just disappear, people would be miserable. People would be affected. You make an impact. And normally I think, everyone has a right to their own life and that includes ending it. However, I'm quoting another friend to say, "The realities you talk about to justify suicide, don't exist for you. They just don't." You need to see that. I wish I could let you listen into conversations I've had where we talk about how wonderful you are. I wish I could let you read my thoughts about how you make me think and feel. You're extraordinary, talented, intelligent, and you could have the world. The only person standing in your way is you, let go of her.

I just started talking to you, and I believe in every way that you are beautiful. I catch you staring at me during conversations. I think it's because you are trying to analyze me so that you can fix me. You have that about you. You want everyone to be happy, and you don't put yourself first. I know this from just meeting you. You radiate possibility and joy and your beauty is too obvious for it to go unnoticed. I wish I could be like that. But I admire the fact that you have that, and that I don't. I wish so badly to be your real friend.

You're a sweetheart. You're always smiling. But you, I'm so worried about you. I think one day it might hit you that the fairy tale isn't exactly what you make it out to be in your head. I think you live your life with a lens that only lets you see things the way you want to see them, rather than how they actually are. It's a fantasy. I don't want to see you crushed by it. I think you're very mature for your age, and I think you've had so many grown up experiences. However, I think you're clinging to something that isn't real, and depending on it for your well-being. It isn't healthy.

You know I'm obsessed with you, to the point where people think I'm really weird. You've been my obsession my whole life. I'm so afraid that I'm losing you... Every single day. I want to be close to you more than anything. I want everyone I love to love you. I feel you are the greatest gift to this world... and I need to stop putting all that pressure on you. I make you feel inferior to my version of you. You think of yourself as this lowly, average being... and I see you as all that is great, grand, and wonderful in this world. I think someday you'll realize why, but until then I'll try my best to treat you as if you're exactly like everyone else.

I think you're delusional. I think you could be a good person. I think you could be my every heart's desire. But you threw that all away so long ago... and that changed me completely. You promised you wouldn't do it. I know, people say that all the time... But what I said I meant. I thought you did the same.

I really wish there wasn't an awkwardness between us. I love you so much. I think you're one of my best friends, and we relate so easily. But, there are these feelings on your side that I just don't understand or want any part of. And I don't mind that much, it's just I can never be totally comfortable. I'm constantly worried about how far apart we sit from each other and if you try to put your arm around me. I hate it. I hate that you want that closeness. I wish you could just want to talk to me and be like my brother.

I'm so happy I found you. Yeah, you're young. Yeah, you live far away. Yeah, I've never met you. But you make me question everything I thought was normal. You make me see the lyrical beauty in sitting on my couch. You make me more creative. I don't know how. Your positive energy withstands through anything. I respect you so much for being the person you are despite everything you have gone through. I wish you were here. I wish I could actually spend real time with you, because I think we're meant to be friends. You feel like my soul mate, I don't mean that in a romantic way, but more like... your best qualities are the ones I lack. Your thoughts match mine. You said you were thinking of getting a star tattoo. Basically, I believe in you. Everything you say and do, because I don't know anybody else who had thoughts like yours at that age... except myself.

I desperately seek your approval, which I know I'll never get. You say things that make me happy, but I know you do it on purpose. I want you to like what I do. I want you to respect me and my art. But I honestly don't see that ever happening.

I miss you. I know we were never really close in the kind of way I wanted... but I don't think you really have that with anyone. Not completely. I want you to open up to not just me, but the world. I feel that is why you're always so disappointed.

I hope you'll be my friend, because you seem neat. :)

And to you... you had a breakthrough last night. You saw a glimmer of what could be. You felt appreciated. But you dismissed it, like you always do. I think you want to be messed up. You want to have no reason to live. The truth is, you're a pretty okay person. You have a pretty good life. You have reasons to be sad at times, but hey, things have been well above average lately. You're talented, but you second guess yourself to the point where it becomes self-destructive. You have a lot of love for people, but you don't know how to handle rejection. You're so afraid that people won't love you like you love them, that instead you pretend to hate them. You act like you don't care, but really you can't watch a half hour sitcom without crying. You think by being messed up, you'll seem stronger. Instead, ignoring the happiness and refusing to be bright and shiny makes you weak. You have all this potential... you're one of those people that wants more than just the average. You question EVERYTHING and never falter in your values. But you don't accept yourself, you don't accept your emotions, and you don't accept your power. You could obtain all that you dream of, but you're too scared. Being afraid is a waste of time, and you believe that being afraid makes you a waste of life. Everyone is scared to leap, but you have to learn to just let go, take a deep breath, and jump.

Dear Jessamyn

You're my best friend. You're the only person to ever treat me like a real best friend. Somehow who accepts me for all that I am, in every situation, good and bad, bitchy and sentimental, laughing and cutting, over-joyed and alone. Nothing scared you away from me. I offered to you my oddly sexual personality and stories you didn't necessarily want to here, and you took it all. You have never been against me.

We have the same sorts of interests, except your hipster stuff and my fashion police/how do I look? stuff. And we say things at the same time. We basically speak a different language most of the time. We don't even have to say anything when we're together to get each other. I know what you are thinking even when what you say doesn't match. I know you. You know me.

You are constantly making sure I'm okay. You cried at the thought of me hurting myself. You expressed how you would do anything for our friendship. You have been reciprocating everything I give. That sounds dirty. But really, you treat me how I have always wished a friend would treat me.

You're just this ray of sunshine in my life. With you as my friend, I'll never feel alone. You made me a priority, something other people just have never done.

And you're funny, smart, and great. You know how much I think of you, your talents, your beauty, and your humor. I love you.

Happiness.

It's almost 3:30 in the morning and I CANNOT SLEEP.

I am so happy thinking about my night. I honestly feel like I've never been so happy in my life. It makes me a little afraid that maybe I'm the only one who feels like this. Well, this extreme, I mean.

I just... feel magic. Everywhere. And I'm so awake. I had monster, that probably adds to the why I'm awake.

He makes me feel like I'm a rarity. Special. Worth it. It's the first time where I truly love someone to the point where their happiness is what matters, rather than my want to be the one to make them happy. If he were to tell me that it's done with tomorrow, I'd be sad, but as long as he's doing what's right for him, I'd be accepting and happy for him.

I keep writing about this.... that's annoying for blog readers, if I have any.
But I can't help it!

I feel good being me right now. I feel like I'm happy with my strengths and weaknesses, the way I talk, the way I look, the way people perceive me (good and bad). I feel... dare I say... confident. And I cannot wait to see what 2011 is going to bring me.

I repeat: I'm 19 now.

There are 3 minutes left to this day as I begin typing. 3 minutes left of my birthday. Today was perfect. I saw the people I love most in the world. I started the day waking with my sister and I think I said things to her in a sleepy haze. Then I was "kidnapped" by my friends Megan and Tia for lunch and had a fantastic time. Followed by that, Jessamyn and Sam came over and we watched forgetting sarah marshmall and Jessamyn helped me prepare for my evening. And then of course, my love came over and we had the most amazing time.

I've never felt so much happiness in one day! I just feel like endless possibilities shall follow and that this next year of my life is going to be exceptional. I love life. I love my friends. I love him.

Beauty.

Last night I saw my friend again.
I forgot how much I missed her,
and how much I needed her.

Though we spoke of many forgotten details,
some words we exchanged stood out.

But what I think of most,
is the way I was feeling.
That I wasn't alone, could never be alone,
and she would NEVER let me be alone again.

There's something about our friendship. Yeah, we're pretty fucking weird. But I love her. She's beautiful. She accepted me years ago when I had nobody else. And you know what? I love her mane, hipster clothes, and chaotic actions. I love her laugh, awkward moments, and our deep conversations.

And I'm so glad I got to be with my friend again.

I'm 19 now.

Why did I ever see something good in you? I FELT SO HORRIBLE for the feelings I had. The things that made me stop loving you. But YOU! You disgusting, lying bastard. You lied to me the whole way through, and I was stupid enough to believe I was actually cared for.

And I know that shouldn't hurt me now. And it shouldn't hurt me that someone I considered my friend didn't tell me about any of it even though they knew. But... I'm afraid I'll make the same mistake. I shudder thinking of who else I was unwillingly sharing myself with. I am disgusting thinking about how many nights I spent thinking nothing was going on when there was drugs and flirtation to be had.

I JUST HATE LYING.

I kissed a boy while I was dating another. I felt... like a devil. I felt horrible. But the guy I was with, seemed to revert back to being, well, a bad guy. And I was sad. I was lonely. And there was someone who told me the best stories of how he could treat me and I kissed him. And I came clean right away. That's the worst thing I've ever done. Ever. Well, to someone else. I've done far worse to myself.

This is a stupid blog post... But I'm so angry. It's my birthday and I'm sad.
I'm happy for the great things in my life but I'm terrified that it's all just lies, like it has been with everyone before. I feel like it's my fault. I feel like I'm not special. I feel like I'm the girl who's supposed to put up with being treated disrespectfully because I don't deserve any better. I feel like I may never be loved for me, respected, honored, and cherished by anyone. Is it so much to ask for a little honesty?


Now this is all... behind me. The psychologically damaging effects, that lingers. The preoccupation about being close to someone again, it haunts me. And I don't exactly know how to talk about it. The broken state, the damaged heart, that's all there. But the boys, who made me briefly believe in love and then brought me down to nothing, are in the past. I bounced back from both. I'm okay. But... it's there. That constant fear. That... what if they're just using me? What if I'm not all they tell me I am? That will stay.


But somehow, I believe this time is right.
I think... it's different now.
And I am done holding back.
I want to be taken. I want to let my guard down.


It's time to forget the past,
where my scathed dreams lay...
and the moments that were supposed to last a lifetime,
faded away.


ALSO: There are probably many typos in this post. I'm sleepy.
And... I'm 19 now. Hooray....? I want to be 20. Still, I'm hoping this day is magical.

Nightmare part 3: The Neverending.

I have decided not to share this part with anyone.. because I want to write a book about my nightmare. I think the basic plot line is really cool and the ending is to die for ;)
So the ending shall be a mystery until the book is published.
But the title has you curious, yes? I can only hope.

My Nightmare. Part 2: Zombieland

Suddenly I was driving a broken down black car, the windows smashed in on both sides. I looked in the back seat and there were these creatures...

They looks like half dogs, half humans. They had bandages wrapped around their faces that left each one indistinguishable from the other. They were trying to kill me. I conveniently had a crowbar next to me I used to smash apart their bodies, mutilated their already distorted flesh into nothingness. The three creatures lay newly dead, and I drove calm and collected, trying to reach my destination.

This was the aftermath. The black rainbow had taken out almost everything. But somehow I managed to escape. Megan and I, we didn't die. We got out of there, but I couldn't remember it clearly. I didn't know where she was now, all I knew is that I had to get away from this place. But I had questions. So many questions.

It had become apparent that the black rainbow was a hoax. It was a simulated phenomenon used to draw so many people to that one particular spot so they could be taken out. But who did it? People traveled worldwide, it seemed nonsensical that another country did this. The radio still fizzled in and out, and I could hear the debate. Beyond these 50 miles of chaos, the world was still in order. But as I kept listening, swerving to avoid a severed body, I heard the panic in their voices. The science is impossible. This wasn't the work of a human. This isn't something from here. We've been invaded. Static.

The car was running low on gas. I didn't know where to stop. Invaded? I had settled into the idea that some work of the devil was at play here, I suppose hoping to believe in something spiritual in the few moments before I was supposed to die. Aliens. The one thing I had always feared for no explainable reason, and they were behind it all.

I saw no source. No a single encounter with anything alien-like. Those creatures... those were people. Hell, they could've been my family. The car stalls in the middle of a long, broken highway. I see flames a ways back, and blackness forward. I quickly decide forward is the only option. I take the crowbar with me, and begin to walk, stumbling from a head rush. A spotlight shines over me.

Several people walk towards me, their flashlights all pin-pointed on me. At first I'm relieved until I see they are all sick. Bits of flesh hang off their skin, foam drips from their mouths, and blank eyes stare at me with thirst and hunger. I clench my weapon tighter in my hand, preparing for what I have to do. I will not go down without a fight. I take one step backward, and they run.

The first creature to get to me goes straight toward my neck, and the crowbar slashes into their torso. I didn't I was strong enough to give such a powerful blow. I raise the bar higher and watch it cut up their weakened sternum. With my right foot I kick the thing off and onto the ground, and wind into a second blow to the head of the next monster approaching me. This one was very short, and I presumed had been a child. I bashed it's head once again and easily enough, it fell. At this moment, I could feel myself start to smile. I believed in myself. I believed enough to survive.

Three more reached me at once. I was clawed at and punched, never bitten. I stabbed one in the throat, blackened blood squirted onto my face. While trying to clear my eyes, another creature hit my ribcage, and I could hear the bones crack. I had to contort myself to take pressure off the left side of my body. Anger and desperation pulsed through me, feeding my energy. I hit them in the back of their legs, taking down the one that had broken my ribs. It managed to land on it's stomach, and I jammed the crowbar into it's spine and quickly retracted to hit the third in the stomach. The blow dizzied the thing, and I did the same sort of swing at it's throat, sending it's head flying ten feet away. There were still six more, but I felt confident now.

And as I turned to face the rest coming for me, an even brighter light shone over me. The zombies cowered, and I let my eyes adjust to see what was making them retreat.

A machine.

The Black Rainbow (song)

Dull brilliance in the pitch black night
A sign of salvation or the end
Traveling miles to see the sight
I want to go away

Each day grows stronger, brighter
Extending to soon be completed
I try to tell her, try to warn her
We need to go away

Dream of Black rainbow
They believe what their eyes
Tell them, but I know
You’re the devil in disguise
And now, we must go
If we’re to stay alive

My family is weakened by the power
Exuded from a force in nature
Unable to move, they’re cowered here
But they must go away

Time is too short to count and pray,
It has almost reached the horizon
My voice makes no difference, they all stay
But I must go away

Dream of Black rainbow
They believe what their eyes
Tell them, but I know
You’re the devil in disguise
And now, we must go
If we’re to stay alive

The world is quiet here
Obliterated by white flames
The end I feared
Explosions in the sky took them all away

Dream of Black rainbow
They believe what their eyes
Tell them, but I know
You’re the devil in disguise
And now, we must go
If we’re to stay alive

Explosions in the sky took them all away

My Nightmare. Part 1: The Black Rainbow

I need to write this out so I remember.

There was a black rainbow. Everyone from miles around wanted to come see it, it was something for the history books. A rainbow that shone with a dulled brilliance in the pitch black night sky. No one knew what it meant, and there was talk of it meaning the end of everything.

I was with my family, and I was one of those who thought this black rainbow was a sign of our demise. It'd disappear in the day time, but as night fell it was growing stronger and stronger. I tried to reach Sohrab, as he was away at school, but he would never answer any of my messages.

Megan came back to visit and see this incredible phenomenon, and I told her that it was a bad idea. That this rainbow is no good thing. We hear news that the following night it will be the brightest it will ever be, and it will finally reach the entire length of the sky, creating a full parabola shape. I knew it meant disaster, I was afraid there wasn't much time left.

As everyone awaits to see the rainbow complete, new theories come up. Jesus will appear before us the moment it happens. God will tell us why we are there. Nothing but beauty. I continued to try and get a hold of Sohrab, to talk to him one last time. To see if there was anything like this where he was. To see if maybe he has a chance, still.

We close in on the last few seconds before the rainbow completes, I run towards the house, to go in the basement, my best source of protection. Megan is at my house with my family, they're all on the deck watching in amazement. The moment happen. The black rainbow completes and for a moment, it seems that is all that was to occur. Then along the horizon, explosion after explosion erupts from no where. My family and Megan rush into the house to follow me, to the basement, where we wait to see if the explosions will reach us.

But as commotion outside calms down, my family goes upstairs, and is obliterated in the flames. Megan and I await downstairs, terrified that no one has returned. She's trying to get a hold of Tyler, to say goodbye to him one last time. I'm still trying to get a hold of Sohrab. We both knew we had so little time. We put away our phones and hugged each other tight, thinking maybe this is the way it was supposed to be. We prayed silently for the good fortune of our loves, and braced what was coming. The ground above us tore away, and we were grateful to have a best friend in our last moment. The explosions reached us, and all went black.

More computer lab thoughts.

This is one of those evenings where nothing really happens.
I see a friend.
I read a book.
I carry on in silence.
I await a text.
I comb my hair.
I carry on in silence.
Everything is drenched in dull light.
Everything is wrecked with bitter bored.

And then I feel like I'm in that place again. The one that I always go back to.
Is there any way to ever bring me back?
Back to the days when I was okay with a meaningless existence. Back to the days where I could wonder in the sunlight for hours with no destination in mind, fully aware that the journey was all that mattered. Back to being complete.

I wish I could play an instrument, I feel like that would help. I have all this music built up inside me, needing to be sung. But I can't ever really play it, and that makes me feel a certain sadness.

I've realized I don't post many happy things.
I believe in my talents more these days.
I believe less in who I am.
I believe in love so strong these days.
I believe less in friends.
I believe in happiness these days.
I believe less that I can obtain it.

My heart hurts. It always hurts. It's been hurting for so long now, and I'm afraid the only way to fix it is to reverse how it broke. But that means someone else needs to be there through the times the others weren't.
I feel like I don't have the power to fix it myself. I gave that away a long time ago. I let people take away all that was good about me.

Thoughts.

I'm sitting here in the lab of Friedrick, looking at the fresh scars on my arm. I'm sad because my posts lately have been like entries from a diary more than sharing work. I suppose that is what a blog is meant for, and I suppose I can use it this way. But it makes me feel uneasy, like too many things do these days.

Last night I was social (surprising, yes?). I actually talked to someone in my dorm besides my good friend from high school. I talked to a group of people actually. And more surprising? I felt okay. Sure, I wasn't enthralled by the conversation, but I was content being around these other people. I was content with not being alone. I find that I wish I could talk to new people more often. I wish I could talk to them without bringing up my weird qualities and getting strange looks. I wish that I could be what they think I am upon first sight. They think I'm ditsy, they think I love parties, they think I've never faced any real hurt. They think I only have one dimension.

But then they see... As casual conversation continues, I talk of my bloodlust, my angst, and my hatred for all music auto-tuned. I become more and more complicated to them, and I'm unsure of the response. I can't quite tell if this is a good thing or a bad thing to them, all I get by their facial expressions is that they weren't expecting it.

This is a dumb post. At least, I believe it is. But recently someone commented on here that made me believe more in myself. I now think, nothing I post is pointless. If I feel the need to write it, it must be necessary.

As for the scars on my arm, that's my weakness. Those are my doubts and fears that maybe my goals aren't possible. They scorch my skin. They attack my thoughts. But, alas, they are always there. Even as the scar fades, the feeling of torn flesh has scathed my memory, reminding me that I am no better than anyone else.

PS: I really wish my lap top was working.
And that I could write this book faster, but as I keep re-writing it, I get farther and farther from finishing.

Maybe there should be another word that means just as much

"You don't want to know."
I gazed off into the starry space above me. The uncovered ceiling chilled the atmosphere of the room. My nerves tickled my tongue, which I then bit to keep form speaking too soon.
I was waiting for him.

"Please? It's not like it's going to change my opinion of you. Or us." He tilted his head down to nuzzle me with the tip of his nose. He playfully tugged on my hair and continued to scratch my scalp.
He was good at egging me on.

I pulled my face towards his and lightly pressed my lips to his cheek.
"Maaaaybe..." I began with uncertainty. "Uh, I don't know," I giggled in frustration.
I felt him become more engaged.

"Come on..." His fingers traced my shoulder blade, down the small of my back. He could see my teeth flash in the darkness.
"...Yes?" He smiled.

"Okay," I laughed. "You just... make me feel things I'm too young to feel."
"What do you mean?"

I shifted. "Like... okay, now, for instance. All I can think of, all I can dream of is forever. I see the moment we decide that we're all each other needs. I see not only tomorrow but the day after, until there aren't anymore. Do you know what I mean? You're my person. You're the one I want to want me for as long as I'm alive."

There was a brief silence from him as I caught my breath from my previously strangling words.
I tightened my arms that were already wrapped around him, and in return, he kissed me.

But he didn't just kiss me. It was different. It wasn't typical, nor typically atypical.
This kiss was real. Emotions entangled and desire beyond our years erupted and all of it was genuine.
I felt him.


And I took this to be his way of telling me that I was his person, too.

Awake

I'm still awake.
And at this time, I'm afraid that I'll never understand unless I join the party.
Maybe all I have to do is take back a few drinks and socialize with people I never care to record to memory..
Because then I'll get it.
Then maybe my heart will stop hurting whenever people I love do the same thing.
Then maybe I'll see it's not what I thought.
Then maybe it'll be okay.


But this is just a thought.

I really, really, want one person to read my blog. I hope they do. I hope they avidly follow along and are captivated. Or concerned. Or pleased. I hope they feel something.

Dear World

This writing thing... isn't natural for me. Though it is easier than breathing.
I don't know what I'm meant to do. Probably because no one is meant to do anything. I'm stuck believing I have a reason. It's a shame, really.
I did find that my reality was better than my dreams this last weekend. It gave me hope. That I'm on the right track. But even the closest I get to perfection is just shy, and there's room for improvement.
When I was younger, I wanted nothing more than to be a singer. I filmed myself yelling away paparazzi, having interviews about my latest album, and singing every word that popped into my head. Back then, no thought was needed. I just was, I just was.
I want that back. That fire, that drive. That knowing, that love. I lost it when I was 12. I remember the exact moment. I remember being discouraged.
I may not be the most talented writer, singer, designer, dancer, actress, model, artist, dreamer... But if I just had the confidence, maybe I could do something with it.
Maybe I could just be, I could just be.

And I'll peel away the old label, the one that says "Best if used by," hoping to reaffirm my faith in having no expiration date.

I've got an itch to scratch....

But I don't wanna be dirty, I AM dirty.
I feel so sassy right now, I can't contain it.
I wanna be center stage and show the world what I can do.

In other news, here's some random lines from my notebook:

Forget the paper,
etch these words into skin
Broken shades of maroon
to enhance lines running thin

Did you remember?
Unless lost by a clock,
no you're not alone here
in your world beyond the tick tocks

I'll take you back
I'll save you, save you
Don't look back now
there's nothing there left for you.

MEOW! I'm working on turning that into a song. Coming very slowly.
I have a new goal. I will feel accomplished the moment I inspire someone enough to have them tattoo my words on them.

Whispered Life.

I feel inspired. Not by the vast depth of my dreams but rather the complex simplicity in sipping a soda. By the tedious task of texting. By the sheer magnitude of one short phrase.

This is my place. I belong here. I belong with those who were mad before me.

How is a raven like a writing desk?
I haven't the slightest idea.
Yet, I know in my heart lies an answer beyond my wildest dreams.

December 7th 2012 will be the moment. The moment for what? I'm not quite sure. But it is.

I know what is because it's not what isn't.

Ouch.

It's happening again!
That whole heart hurting thing.

It's just not fair. >.<
To the point where it breaks my heart. Shatters it completely. It turned into slate and broke into 19 pieces.

Somebody make this go away!

I just want to belong.

I fucking hate my life sometimes. I don't even know why. If I'm up too late with too many thoughts I just realize how much everything has changed, and how the people who I always thought would be there, left, and changed into the people they said they never would be.

Meow.

And a lot of times, my heart hurts. I think it's because I'm so afraid I'm going to be replaced. I'm afraid everyone will find better people, and forget me. I'm afraid I'm nothing special, one in a million, and there's even more people who are like me only completely awesome. I'm afraid that no one will want me anymore. I'm afraid that because they are all starting new lives with new people, I won't fit in. I feel like I won't belong.

Merrr.

Completely Honest

When other people I know tell me they want to be writers, these thoughts come to mind in this exact order...

1) That's awesome! I totally get it.
2) Does that mean they constantly criticize me?
3) Does that mean I constantly criticize them?
4) I don't know how to feel about that.


I love that so many of my friends love writing, but it makes me less and less attracted to doing so myself. It makes me feel like writing has lost it's unique touch. I feel like I can't claim it's mine because it'd take it away from somebody else.
I don't know what to be. I don't know what my "thing" is. I feel really unsure. Hell, that's probably why I haven't declared a major.

Also... I'm finally content with the idea that only like 3 people read my blog.
Because this is my feel good place.
where dreams can come true?
That's a little far.

But I like it here.

I stood up for myself...

:)

I'll try to not let that go to my head.

Music I love.

1. Coheed and Cambria. Please listen to The Light & The Glass.
2. Devics. Obsessed with their album My Beautiful Sinking Ship.
3. I Will Follow You Into The Dark by Death Cab for Cutie.
4. Alesana. On and off with them but they definitely have some decent songs.
5. Atreyu. Just started listening to their older stuff .
6. Bang Camaro. Decent sound.
7. The Pretty Reckless. LOVE.
8. Children of Bodom. I am obsessed with Hatebreeder album.
9. Kid A album by Radiohead.
10. A Day To Remember, they're pretty good from what I've heard so far.
11. Death Angel... I actually really like them. Don't make fun of me.
12. Dimmu Borgir. Love love.
13. Dispatch, so dig them.
14. Fireflight! Great, acoustics even better.
15. Firewind, pretty good.
16. Gaelle.. sometimes.
17. Garbage
18. Gogol Bordello, hell yeah.
19. I Set My Friends On Fire, okay so I love their name more than their songs, but still.
20. Infected mushroom, but the less trance stuff by them.
21. Kamelot, everytime I listen to them I feel like I'm on an adventure.
22. Kylesa, album spiral shadow
23. Lamb of God. Adore.
24. Mirah, that chick is awesome.
25. Miss May I, pretty quality stuff.
26. Napoleon XIV, hilarious.
27. Nine Inch Nails, been getting into them more and more.
28. Oranssi Pazuzu, the best psychedelic black metal.
29. Ozzy, can't go wrong there.
30. Rise against, what I've heard so far I like.
31. White Zombie/Rob Zombie, well, of course.
32. Saosin, yes yes yes
33. Sevendust. Don't judge me..
34. Slayer, classic.
35. Through The Glass by Stone Sour. Anything else by them can die.
36. Tristania, it's a bonus that the chick is hot.
37. VersaEmerge is pretty solid.
38. We Are The Fallen, the chick is hot for them too.


Obviously for me Avenged Sevenfold will always be my favorite, these are just the things I've been listening to lately..

here's a really good question...
why should I have friends that automatically assume I'm mad at someone instead of telling the truth when I can't hang out?
MAYBE... just maybe... I was being honest. MAYBE I'm not mad at anyone.
Ugh.
I have a couple friends who really care about me, who don't pick other people over me consistently. And then I have my friends who were kept me sane last year, but now they have other priorities, and I'm not one of them.
I don't need people who don't value me.

I feel this little piece of my heart that is broken. Because I let someone else chip it. They chipped my heart and ran away with a tiny sliver, and now I can never fix the little broken piece. I can't fix my heart because it's not completely whole.. It never will be again.

I don't know how to live with a damaged heart.

Myth of Me.

If no one will catch me when I jump, then I'll fix myself when I'm broken.

I thought of this phrase the other day.. when I thought about my attitude towards being heartbroken. I've changed my perspective. I don't think it can destroy me.

But this doesn't mean I'm worried about heart break right now. Actually.. I'm the opposite. I feel so secure in my relationship that I'm so happy, even though I haven't seen him since August.

Right now, more than ever, I actually rely on myself for happiness. And thank goodness. I'm finding everyday it gets easier. And I don't need surface level friendships, drugs, or alcohol. I do need music and writing, though. Ooh and design, my new obsession.

I think I'm on the right path. Life is trying to shake me up again but I won't let it. Nothing and no one can have power over me.

I'm in control.

Update.

My best guy friend doesn't think his life is meaningful.
He doesn't think he's worth anything.

My best girl friend doesn't think she's special.
She doesn't think she's worth anything.

And I... don't think my presence is necessary.
I don't think I'm worth anything.


And I don't know what to do.
Maybe if there were more people I could relate to things would work out.


Also as an aside, Bon Iver... is stupid. I'm going to go right out and say his stuff is good if you're high out of your mind, but I really hope this hipster stuff gets done with real fast. But judging by the amount of uggs and flannel scarves I see everywhere, this is another one of those fads that is, unfortunately, here to stay.


And finally, I just can't wait to til Thanksgiving, when I can feel like life is normal.

In This Moment

Slow down to hyper speed
The rhythm of eternity
Mind reels into subconscious melody
From memory

Slow down to hyper speed
The pressure of eternity
Colors blur into phantasmal entity
From memory

I don't feel alive
In this moment
I don't believe
In this moment
And I am lost
Forever
In this moment

Ticking time into candy
Synthetic taste of destiny
Senses stalled into casual intimacy
From energy

Ticking time into candy
Sudden rush into destiny
Sound shocked into emotionless clarity
From energy

I don't feel alive
In this moment
I don't believe
In this moment
And I am lost
Forever
In this moment

End it all
In this moment
We will fall
In this moment
And God is lost
Forever
In this moment

Ripped apart, the crashing pause
Collides into unnecessary cause
And torn away
Space fades
In this moment

I don't feel alive
In this moment
I don't believe
In this moment
And I am lost
Forever
In this moment

End it all
In this moment
We will fall
In this moment
And God is lost
Forever
In this moment

I don't feel alive
In this moment

Hold On Just A Moment Longer

Hold on just a moment longer
Let the darkness take you
I promise it will be alright
I will not forsake you

Look up to the stars
See them, trust them
Memories fade
In headlights of cars

Hold on just a moment longer
Let the pain attack you
I promise it will be alright
I will come back for you

Look up to Heaven
See it, trust it
Details explained
In love forgotten

Hold on just a moment longer
Let them tell lies to you
I promise it will be alright
My faith resides in you

Look into my eyes
See them, trust them
Look away from love
Fear still remains
Inside wounded time.

Secrets Suck

When I see those words
My heart steadily breaks
To every syllable that validates insecurity

When I see that nothing
My head vividly dizzies
To every insignificant meaningful action

And no one knows this happens
That I'm so easily distraught
And I can't help it, I want to stop it

And I wish they knew this happened
So I'd never have to feel little
And I could believe everything I am told.

Grinding teeth down to happiness

Grinding teeth
Down to happiness
I was able to grow up today
I was able to give my life away
I made it somewhere I don't believe in.

I don't believe.

Grinding teeth
Down to happiness
I was able to move on today
I was able to give my love away
I gave it to someone I don't believe in.

I don't believe.

Grinding teeth
Down to happiness
I was able to end life today
I was able to give my heart away
I tossed it to the God I don't believe in.

I don't believe.
I don't believe.

I dare you.

A lizard lost in tongues
Waiting for the shoe to fall
In the corner she can't be
Line them up against the wall

Revolver to the head
I dare you
Pull, pull the trigger
Revolver to the head
I dare you
Pull, pull the trigger

Ramble in synchronicity
Waiting for the song to play
Where did all the love go to
There is no day but today

Revolver to the head
I dare you
Pull, pull the trigger
Revolver to the head
I dare you
Pull, pull the trigger

STOP! PAUSE! REWIND! K, Play.
No, FAST FORWARD! K, Play.

Because you don't control me
Pull the trigger baby
Go ahead, try to take me

Revolver to the head
I dare you
Pull, pull the trigger
Revolver to the head
I dare you
Pull, pull the trigger

Go ahead, try to take me
Go ahead, try to take me

Backfired because I'm already dead.

The Best He Ever Had

I found out 'round 9 o clock the yesterday
She wasn't in a steady state of mind
Drank too much her soul away
Shot up a quick escape
And that was all her story had to say

It happened 'round Saturday a week ago
He wasn't in a steady state of mind
Hot with sore testosterone
Wanted that girl to blow
So shoved it down her throat to choke that ho

Now she's dead
But that was an accident
Drugs and sex are just for fun
But the high was overdone
At least she was the best he ever had

Her parents found out after it was too late
They weren't in a steady state of mind
Claimed that stupid slut deserved
All that he gave to her
Her place in hell was already reserved

It happened today at the church on the square
He wasn't in a steady state of mind
Guests at the funeral scared
Of the man unprepared
To talk about the girl he didn't spare

Now she's dead
But that was an accident
Drugs and sex are just for fun
But the high was overdone
At least she was the best he ever had

Well come up and claim your prize, man, hurry
For ending such a pathetic life
Oh come now don't be worried
No one blames your fury
The devil deems a man like you worthy

Now she's dead
But that was an accident
Thank drugs and sex and his fun
He rid the world of the one
Sad girl who was the best he ever had

Now she's dead
But that was accident
Drugs and sex meant just for fun
But the high was overdone
Remembered as the best he ever had

Black Mamba Venom

Today I feel good.

I feel loved. Jessamyn is amazing. I adore her. I miss Sohrab, but we'll be together soon. I love him and everything he says. I get to be a pirate later. I got the best grade in discussion classes on my paper that I didn't put any real effort into. I am happy with my appearance today. My hip piercing is healing great. I got cool new shoes :P. Static electricity is not my friend because I've been shocked on 4 different surfaces but I am fine with that. Last night I had noodles and company. Tonight I see Kevin and Schneidy and that's exciting. California boys are awesome at keeping me amused. I have great new music. Lady gaga bracelet has been found. I finally get to do my laundry today. I'm going home :) I've had 2.75 energy drinks, that's probably the part that is making me write this pointless blog. The way I feel right now, makes life worth it.

I have a poem to post later, and I'll probably have more shenanigan writing.

"It's a great day to be alive, I know the sun's still shining when I close my eyes."

Together.

I was used and abused
Set off the devil's fuse
Beaten and mistreated
My virginity was cheated

You knew death, no breath
He choked on devil's meth
Alone in danger zone
Without him there to see you grow

We've all led fucked up lives
Pretend we're normal
Dictate our children to carry on the lies
We stay in denial
But disclose secrets for the compromise
And the system continues
Whether this is our demise or our key to the skies
Doesn't really matter
Because it's how we stay together

Awake the recesses of heart

I'm such a cheesy rhymer...

Centuries, I have lived
Seen the rise and fall
A world alone
Lost with failing call
Seen the healed and dead
A corpse alone
Decapitated
Seen the fake and real
A shell alone
Eyes that cannot feel

Awake the recesses of heart
Create solid ground
Awake the recesses of heart
Equate yourself found

Centuries, we have lived
Been the fall and rise
We are alone
Lost with no allies
Been the dead and healed
They are alone
In death is revealed
Been the real and fake
Mimic alone
The soul and eyes make

Awake the recesses of heart
Create solid ground
Awake the recesses of heart
Equate yourself found

Crash into nocturnal phantasm
Splintering authenticity, forgiving evil
Forget all severed fantasy
Separating synchronicity, revert primeval

Awake the recesses of heart
Create solid ground
Awake the recesses of heart
Equate yourself found
Awake the recesses of the heart
Awake the soul
Awake the recesses of the heart
Awake our souls

What I love about life

So this list is needed to make me start thinking more positively. Just a small list.

1) Being a woman. Yeah, that's right. Women are sexy. Women are strong. Women get to have babies. But don't get me wrong, I love to be the big spoon sometimes.

2) Suits. Barney Stinson has it right.

3) Laser tag. Such a blast, even if you have no idea what a base is or how to aim.

4) Masturbation. I'm going there. And going there and going there and uhhh ohhh. That's the stuff.

5) Making out. Nothing beats kissing. Nothing.

6) Blogs. WHAT UP! I love writing here. It's semi public and semi private. It means that people can at least try to understand me.

7) Megan Fox. She had to be on the list.

8) Taylor Momsen. My new female crush, I may want her more than Megan Fox... I can't decided. But when this girl sings in her lingerie, I go crazy.

9) NPH himself. Anything he does I love.

10) Joss Whedon. Anybody who disagrees can never talk to me again.

11) Musicals. I can't say where I'd be now if I had never seen Rent. That show changed everything for me. Actually, it really made me grow up in 8th grade, and made me start dealing with some adult themes at 13.

12) Make-up. I still want to drop out of UW Madison and go to a cosmetology school and do make-up for TV and movies or Kim Kardashian.

13) Sonny. He's always there.

14) Jessica. She's my other half.

15) Megan. I'm kind of obsessed with her haha. Though we both do things to frustrate each other, I want her approval more than anyone else's.

16) Tia. She radiates light and beauty.

17) Bimpe. She tells me like it is when I reallllly don't want to hear it.

18) Leland. He keeps me going on a daily basis here at school.

19) Sam. He's never been anything but awesome to me.

20) Jessamyn. She fucking rocks. I love this girl, and she's my best gal.

21) Sohrab. I wish there was a way to explain how happy he makes me. The highlight of my day, every day, whether or not we are together. There's just something about him.

22) Avenged Sevenfold. If you don't like them, I don't want to hear your opinion. These guys just make life more exhilarating.

23) Hair dye. Yes, I'm lame.

24) The word "awesome." It's just the best one.

25) Jawbreakers. I CAN'T STOP EATING THEM HERE! It's so bad for my teeth.

26) Writing. I'm writing a book. I hope a lot of people will like it. I hope I'll like it haha. I'm my own worst critic of course.

The most ridiculous feeling

When he texts me that goofy smiley =), my heart flutters.
And if I so happen to say something that grants me the even more special =D grin, my spirits are lifted.
He takes the world away, it's just us.

And I couldn't be happier than here with him, miles apart, giggling in response to every electronic love note.

I'll admit it

I'm weak. That's why I write here. That's why I believe if I ever am bothersome to anyone, they'll want to walk away from me forever.

So why should anyone care how I feel
I'm another pathetic excuse wanting reason to be real

So I'm dramatic. Leland said to me tonight that people shouldn't complain about heartbreak when they are those who are starving. My sister will be the first to tell you, I don't care about starving people.

Isn't that just disgusting? I hate just how selfish I can be.

So why should anyone care about me
I'm another pathetic morsel wanting reason for misery

I want it all to stop bothering me. I want to not need what I need. I want to not feel what I feel. Maybe this time it'll work.

Talk.

Talk is cheap.
It's all just semantics.
Why do you bother?
Leave me alone to panic.

Talk is cheap.
Words are just lies.
Why do you linger?
Leave me alone to die.

You know what I need?
Just one hit, just one cut,
Then I'm free.
Just one pill, just one touch,
Baby that's all that I need.

Talk is cheap.
Speech is censored.
Show me your mind,
Leave me alone answered.

Talk is cheap.
Addiction's expensive
Show me your drugs,
Leave me alone to live.

You know what I need?
Just one hit, just one cut,
Then I'm free.
Just one pill, just one touch,
Baby that's all that I need.

Numb.

Dear Self,

Today I realized my problem.

You broke me. You were the little chip that shattered the glass. You destroyed everything.

And I'm not putting all the blame on you, because I forgave you. I forgave you when it started. I knew it wasn't completely your fault.

But then again, these things don't just happen to everyone.

Don't hate your thoughts. It'll be okay, because to quote the wise, "every body's got to die sometime."


**********************************************************************************

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He was what I wanted. Wasn't he? I sacrificed everything for him, I broke the heart of a boy I deeply cared for. And now he wanted to kiss me, and I had no reason not to. I leaned in, hoping my decision would be validated by the soon to explode sparks of true love. He was aggressive. I felt lips, I felt too much tongue. I felt a bite. I felt cold hands. I felt... nothing. I wanted to cry but I was too numb. I let him kiss me. I let him take away any part of me that was good with his lips. I let myself disappear into the absence of love and into the emptiness of physical desire.

Why wasn't this magical? Why didn't cliche phrases come to mind? Why did I want to pull away? And most startling, why couldn't I? Question after question ran through my head as I ignored what was happening. I separated myself from the reality, a boy s from my pathetic body that let a boy kiss her when he didn't love her. The body that was too numb to stand up and walk away. He pulled away to take a breath and smiled at me. I regained feeling in my fingertips, legs, and lips. He was expecting more. He can't touch me again, I thought. I'll freeze .I won't be able to push him off. I need to get away.

**********************************************************************************

**********************************************************************************

There were these nights. I never mentioned them before, I didn't think they were significant. These nights, when things happened. Things that shouldn't have happened. I didn't know anything was wrong. At least, not until it was too late. Too late to understand. Too late to fix.

After... it... happened, I'd lie awake in bed staring into all corners of the room. I swear, I saw this ghost. He came back every night, right after. A tall, skinny silhouette of a man, wearing a trench coat and hat. He would pace back and forth in front of me. I didn't know what he wanted, but he made me feel cold. He made me feel numb. I couldn't do anything I wanted to: hide, cover myself with a shield of blankets, run to my parents. I just stared. My heart would pound harder and harder, until I settled into the fear. I replaced my caution with curiosity. I called out to him.


**********************************************************************************

**********************************************************************************

These nights, they're just so hard to talk about. I don't want to use the wrong language. I don't want to be misunderstood. I wasn't mad it happened. It didn't fill me with resentment. I was accepting. I was confused, sure, but accepting nonetheless.

These nights, nobody could see the good in them. If I told someone they'd say how sorry they were that I had to experience that. They'd say, you must be troubled. They'd say, you should get some help. They'd say, you should talk to someone. They'd ask, do your parents know?

As if my parents knowing could make every ugly thing in this world beautiful again. As if they had this ability to make it all okay. Not that it wasn't okay, it was. Because you see, my turmoil comes from hiding this secret. Making it a secret, makes it mean more than it should. It gives it power.

They were just these nights. They're just memories now. They're just words. These nights don't have to mean anything. There is no one at fault for them, everyone involved was clueless. Especially me. Not to defend myself or anything, not to play the role of a victim.

It was okay. I was numb, but I was okay. He touched me, and I couldn't move anymore. I let him kiss me. I let him kiss more than my lips. I let him put his hands on me. In me. I said I'd never tell the times he realized I was awake. I was always awake. I let him take away any part of me that was good.

These nights, they weren't big deal. They just happened is all. I could have stopped them if I didn't think they were alright.

These nights, I don't think they were significant.

Misery

La la la la la.

Today is a lovely sort of day.
The kind that doesn't come around to often.

My heart is excited with anticipation,
and full with love.

Music is found in every sound,
dance is found in every step.

:D

Life can be beautiful.

But only for a little while,
because I'm too far gone to be saved.

Fiction.

That's the title of my first book. Now I just gotta write the damned thing.

Follows the tale of an average adolescent with average experiences.

PLOT LINE
Girl meets boy. Girl falls in love with boy. Girl meets other boy. Girl falls in love with other boy. Drama. Girl has unexpected fate. WHEEEE that's so original....

Elements to add to text:
Motifs - Music player, the type of lighting, fiction vs truth, time
Style - More old english romanatic era kind of stuff without the descriptions of freakin plants..
AMBIGUOUS ENDING, of course
Structure - Messy, jumping through time with the use of a music player

I have the whole thing playing in my mind and in my dreams. It was inspired by my this I believe and by previous stories I was working on. I just have to actually get the motivation to do it.

The Clock - Play version *very short* *first draft*

Stage Directions: Room is black, lights slowly begin to fade on, but stay dim. There is a grandfather clock stage right, ticking loudly. The ticks are not evenly paced, the time is seeming to get slower and slower. There is a book shelf stage left with a picture of a woman sitting high on the shelf. There is a window far stage right, to the side of the clock. It’s storming outside. You can just barely hear the pouring rain. A spotlight shines on a man sitting in a chair. I’d like to have music softly playing throughout the whole piece that matches the mood of each moment. The man is telling his story to the audience.

MAN (spoken dramatically, uneasily, acts as if he is in pain): Hour by hour. Minute by minute. Second by second. Tick, tiick, tiiick. The droning of the clock never ceases. Each second seems to modify in length, growing idler each instant; the shifting countdown of my sanity.

The man stands, spins slowly about the room. He walks toward the bookshelf, fixates on the picture. He looks down, sad, and then turns from it walking stage right and upstage angrily.

MAN (spoken in dream-like tone but with angered emotion): Weary of the unrelenting life surrounding me, I create an empty vortex of artificial existence. (While covering his ears and frustrated) Tick, tiick, tiiick. I must stay far away from this place, this deed, this crime. No one can accept the monstrous mask I so gallantly wear tonight. Other humans by nature are judgmentally sanctified and blessedly errant. (Walks stage left, and then paces back and forth until stage directions call to stop) By all that commands me, let it be. I accept the mendacity in the hearts of those I used to recognize to be all knowing and righteous. I allow myself to be a part of this whole, but my recent tribulation hath left me alone with shadows of demonic tones. One must find the balance between forgiven evil and the devil possessing the soul. Lightning swirls and dances outside my window in the gray, celestial sky. My eyes glow with every thunderous illumination.

There is a pause as the MAN walks back over to the picture frame. He strokes the edges, looking nostalgic. He goes and sits back down in the chair. Stage left, further left than the book shelf, there are shadows visible but nothing more. The light is shone upon this scene and upon the man in the chair and the clock. Only those three spotlights. The figures are just silhouettes of a man and woman. First appearing in a romantic embrace.

MAN: Before was different. Before, there was an unfaltering ray of everlasting light. (couple pulls away but keeps their hands laced together) The divine, honest light. There was a soul. (Blackness except for the clock, in normal time)

MAN: Tick, tick, tick. I am reminded of the grand clock in the corner of the room. Its paint is chipping away along with each movement of the secondhand. Time has resumed at a steady pace. I am losing faith that I could revert back to my stable mind. Tick, tick. (Light shines back on the man and couple, who are still hands en-laced and staring at one another)

MAN: Before, I was lively, I was open, I was free. Before was everything.
(The man in the couple pulls out a box and gets down on his knee, flips the cover open. The woman lightly jumps and then the two embrace. Then the room gets lighter, the whole space, no more spotlights are used)
The room becomes a faint blue.

The MAN stands and steps closer to the couple, staring at their love. Then the man in the couple pulls away from the embrace and pulls out a dagger. He begins stabbing the woman, slicing her torso and finally her throat. The room gets dark again except for the light on the clock and the MAN and the faint light coming from the window.. The MAN makes a gasp of pain and falls to the ground, then stares above himself. Light shadows appear above him, but there are only from the tree outside the window. He thinks these shadows are coming from somewhere else. He speaks of his circumstance, his breathing is sharp, it’s obvious he is being tormented.

MAN: Power surges through my body, and every nerve-ending wakes, generating a current pulsing through me like flames in my veins. My heart beat flutters and falters as I look up at the shadows. (In fear) They are here, above me. I look at the abysmal figures taunting me. (A loud ringing disturbing noise plays) Their sadistic language rings in my ears! (Unsteadily gets up from ground) I must hide.

The man trips a lot while walking the short distance to the table and ducks underneath it, getting close to the floor and covering his eyes. You can still hear the ringing noise.

MAN: (Grunting)I cower beneath my table and sink into the depths of the tile floor, shielding my eyes from the blinding darkness.
(Words “monster” “murder” and “remember Lenore” whisper repeatedly after about ten seconds man speaks again)
I feel the shadows whisper at the nape of my neck. They keep me sad, they keep me cursed. (Sad and dramatic) They keep me. (Voices stop, man uncovers his eyes and holds head up) Then silence.

MAN: Silence…(climbing out from under the table) growing louder, mocking me! (Standing now) The solitude is treacherous enough, but silence!

(Light flashes on couple scene again with the man standing over the dead woman’s corpse. The MAN falls to his knees and stares at the scene before him) Chiming in with an electroweak force, killing the energy within me. (Begins to fall forward but clock interrupts him, when the clock ticks the scene with the woman and man is black again. Light is shone on the clock, and thunder booms. The MAN is struck with fear and jumps to his feet at the sound of the first tick but is not in a full upright position)

MAN (Shouting wildly): Tick! Tick! Tick! A sudden roar escapes from time. (Walks upstage) Before, there was no fear. Now, I fear myself. (We see the faint shadow figures again, but they aren’t actually attacking him) One shadow caresses my cheek, gliding its form slow enough to send (trembles) stabbing shivers down my spine.
(Starts leaning backwards) The other shadow is clawing at my stomach, and I feel my skin shredding as it digs deeper. (Man tries to claw away shadows, tries to escape them. Walks to the other side of the stage. Starts to appear mad and insane to the audience)

MAN (filled with remorse and worry in his voice. Desperate to get the audience on his side): Before, I loved. I loved with such a passion, purity, and…(say this word carefully) precision. (This shows how he is turning from his side that loved to his side that murdered. He realizes this but tries to get the audience to not see that) That was and always will be, before.
(Stares back at the clock with the first tick) Tick! Tick! Almost nothing left. (Looks above him at the shadows) I deserve these shadows, (Looks around himself at the darkness) I deserve the darkness. (Puts hands and head, has panic attack) I can no longer breathe, can’t think… I am going to complete this trial. Admitting my sickness would keep me here. (Sounds nauseous) But I cannot. I do not dare to the speak words validating my malice. (Falls to the ground with the first tick) Tick! Tick! (Groans) Before, I confessed my sins. Before, I refrained from darkness. (Starts seizing on the floor with the first tick, shouting his words) Tick! Tick! Before, I could not inflict pain on anyone, especially her…

(Sound of woman screaming after the word “her”, then clock, the man tries to block out the sound and he begins screaming his words) Tick! Tick! Now I hear my scream! No, that cannot be. That is not me, that is... The victim! (Slightly quieter and stopping seizing) Tick! Tick! After, I felt ashamed. The shadows are forcing me to remember my offense… and the guilt consumes me, attacks. (Slightly louder and standing up) Tick! Tick! Tick! After, I felt enraged. I felt strong, (backs off his anger) I felt frail.

(Rubs torso when he talks about it, there is blood on his hands (the MAN thinks there is blood and that’s why we see it. In perfect reality, it doesn’t exist)) One shadow moves away from my freshly slashed torso to my eyes. (Repeats in a singsong but sad tone.) My eyes. (Stares at audience, saying these lines as eerily as possible) I read the shadow’s thoughts; it’s bewilderment at the transparent splendor. Moments of hurried bliss pause the clock. (Look at clock when saying the word clock, and then quickly back to the audience. This whole part should be calm and collected but scary and schizophrenic) But sooner or later, time must continue.
(Tilts head at audience. There is a dramatic pause. And then the clock begins and the man thrashes with the first tick) Tick! Tick! The burning! (Man is in searing pain, moving about stage ducking and covering his eyes, fighting off the imagined shadows) My eyes catch flame staring into the perpetual oblivion of the shadow. (Throws head backwards and yells with the first tick) Tick! Tick! After, my soul left me. (Disgust and contempt) I am a shell of a human that once was. (Grabs at chest, pops twice almost like from a dance, begins next line while doing this) A piercing jolt rages through my heart as another shadow returns to me and shrieks an ephemeral, frantic howl. (Howl noise heard. Man covers ears and tilts torso deep to one side staring head forward at the audience and says the next line softly) Hopelessness… My consciousness is fleeting. (LOUDEST yet at the sound of the first tick man is in complete anguish and you can tell by his physical gestures and facial expression, quickly and regrettably reveals his truth) Tick! Tick! TICK! After, I felt I died along with my Lenore!

Thunder booms from out the window and the clock is still ticking as the scene goes black after the man confesses the murder of his wife. Then steadily the clock slows down. A single spotlight comes back on the MAN sitting on the chair.

MAN (Numb and dry, eerily, hunched over chair with elbow on table): Tick, tiick, tiiick. Second by second. Minute by minute. Hour by hour. I freeze while needles attack me with numbness. The shadows. They wrap themselves around me, constricting me of life, of thought, of sorrow, of faith. (Slowly turns head to the front, blood is dripping from his throat (remember this doesn’t actually exist)) My throat is slit, and the blood keeps trickling. I try to cling to my life but the shadows make me see I have no reason. I must forget that horrific, unspeakable second, and the beauty that once lived prior to this night. (The man slowly but steadily stands) But before, I wasn’t a murderer. The shadows overwhelm, all goes blank. The world is hushed except for the tick, tiick, tiiick. (Falls to knees on third tick, says the last line very quietly and with no emotion) The droning of the clock never ceases. (Falls completely, he dies. Clock keeps ticking after scene goes black, time going on in a monotonous tone, slowly but never stopping until house lights come on.)

This I Believe by Miss Brittany Bavery

Lub dub. Lub dub. Lub dub. I believe in the rhythm of my heart.

Hit play. I lay in a field of daffodils, sunlight blinding my thoughts. My iPod switches songs and Avenged Sevenfold’s Fiction rings in my ears. I feel every note pulsating melodic fire through my veins. I inhale deeply, sinking into every off-chord. At this moment, it feels as if my soul is detaching from my body as the irregular pattern of my heartbeat matches the pace of the song.

Rewind. I’m standing in his driveway, shivering from the cold, begging for one more chance. He’s whispering to me that he doesn’t love me, that he could never love me again. He starts to tell me about the girl he met, the one I can’t compare to. My throat is dry; I’m unable to speak. I feel a pang of emptiness inside my chest. My heartbeat flutters and falters.

Fast forward. Time is visible to me, his words spinning into the whirlwind of actions that follow. Somehow I am here, standing on my second story rooftop that protrudes just over the concrete. I can focus on nothing but the brilliance of the dark. I move one foot closer to the edge. Fear and adrenaline attack me, causing my heart to beat with such a profound force I feel it will escape my chest. This is it; this is what I deserve. I’m about to dive headfirst toward the pavement.

Pause. The inconsistency of my heartbeat is my only constant. It is the one thing I can depend on. We live in a world where we are told to trust no one. We live in a world where we are to expect the unexpected, a place where it’s supposed to make sense when one morning your lover is there and the next, you’re alone. I’m alone. The only feeling left within me is that of my irrational pulse. I can’t make sense of life, the chaotic or the steady. No matter how the story unfolds before me, the plot is entirely unknown to me until the moment it’s happening. You don’t recognize the greatest day of your life until you are standing in the middle of it. You don’t see the sadness of heartbreak until you find out your love has ended. You aren’t sure if all will go according to plan until either everything falls apart, or it’s over.

But my heartbeat I can always count on to change. It molds to fit every new sensation I experience. It reacts to every moment I plan for, and every one that I don’t. Racing when I fall in love, syncopating when I am broken, and pounding when I’m nervous. In the breath before a kiss, a sudden rush pulls me forward to become lost in passion. In the fear before a spoken phrase, a hesitant drum eases me out of insecurity. It pushes me an inch closer to love, to myself. In the silence of the night, it calls me onward. It pushes me an inch closer to death, to heaven.

Play. In the nanosecond before I choose to take control of my fate, my anxiety triggers a sharp, jolting pain. My heart ceases beating. Through every offbeat, every mixed up melody, my heartbeat had kept me living. Now, it was giving up on me like I was giving up on myself. I can’t bear the thought. I fall. Away from the edge, back onto the floor of my bedroom.

Fast forward. Now stop. I breathe in the faint aroma of the daffodils, pulling my hand to my chest and concentrating on the movement. My heartbeat is like music. You know the notes won’t stay the same, and that’s what makes it so beautiful. It carries on three slow beats, two quick beats, one slow beat, three quick beats.

I believe in the rhythm of my heart. Lub dub. Lub dub. Lub dub.

Reality.

I like bleeding.

This is a strange thing to admit, but I feel it's right to talk about something that makes you happy. Bleeding makes me happy.

I can't exactly describe what it does for me, something about seeing my blood as useless instead of something that keeps me alive makes me feel content.

Sometimes I think... I'm not troubled, because I just want attention. That's all anybody wants, right? Attention. And I'm not talking about romantic love, I have that. I'm happy with that. It's everything else I'm craving. Friends, family. Especially family, my own family... And I hate that I crave that at such a young age.

But then I think, anybody who puts themselves through this kind of tormenting must be troubled, regardless of their intentions. Actually going through with it says a lot more about a person.

I'm watching this movie, it's called "The Good Girl," with Jennifer Aniston and Jake Gyllenhaal. It's a good movie. She questions her entire world, feels out of place. She begins an affair with Jake Gyllenhaal's character, but eventually she sees that he is too young, immature, and obsessive. Things got chaotic from there. She realizes at the end she was just using this boy as an escape from reality, and nobody can truly escape reality. Though apparently in the DVD version, her realization is that you can, in fact, escape reality.

So that's my question right now, can we? Can we escape reality?
And if we can... should we?

I haven't been making any more mistakes. I haven't been escaping. I'm done with it. I'm trying my best to make reality beautiful.

Hang on another day

I keep thinking I should just do it.

My heart hurts. It hurts all the time. I don't know any other way to make it stop.

But... there's so much more. I shouldn't give up so easily. I shouldn't give up on myself.

The ache though. The unsteadiness. The pain. I just can't take it anymore.

My bad habits don't even help. This is a much bigger problem. This is something that temporary fun and happiness can't take away.




I need help. I'm screaming for it, but nobody's listening.

Fa la la la la la la la la

7 Weird things about myself.

1. I talk to myself. Okay, everyone does this. However, I realized I strike up conversation whenever I'm alone with my reflection. I ask questions and propose answers. Also I swear at myself A LOT. Whenever I do something stupid, mostly, and that happens often.
2. I bite my toenails. Num num num. I despise any clipping devices, and I'm obsessed with biting, so I must.
3. Sometimes I scratch myself hard enough to get a scab just so I can pick the scab. I'm addicted to picking scabs in a very unhealthy way...
4. I kiss my pillow. Don't judge. When planning out the perfect kiss it is just good practice.
5. After Spanish class I'm frightened that I will not be able to speak in English the rest of the day. Not exactly sure why I think that or am so afraid of that happening.
6. I put myself into weird positions to watch tv. It usually involves my legs being above my head and my back being extremely bent.
7. I look up pictures of hot female celebrities all the time. It's probably because I'm obsessed with hair and makeup and clothes, but I still think it's a problem and I need help.

*******************************************************************************

I love dance class. Dance class makes me feel good about myself, gets me in shape, and is a blast. It's the redeeming aspect of my life at the moment. Right now, my writing sucks, I lead a boring weekly routine, and I have limited friends. BUT I dance. I dance a lot, and I dance my heart out. :)

I MISS CHAMBER SINGERS AND BROADWAY BOUND!!!!!!!

Lost.

I still feel lost. Why is everyone else finding their way? Why am I the only one still clinging on to everything that used to be? Why can't I let go?

Part 5 is coming soon!

I've realized that when I write about my life, something beautiful happens to my writing... Even reading it back to myself, I feel like I'm back exactly in the moment it happened. Perhaps this is because it's my own reflection, but I get the feeling others could relate to it.

I need a little more time. I've been thinking and writing in my notebook the last couple weeks, and there will be a bunch of things coming at once.

What if?

What if tomorrow, I'm not loved?
What if, everything suddenly changed?

What if he says... this all isn't worth it.
What if he says... the timing just isn't right.
What if he says, the worst... I've met someone else, and I just can't get her out of my head.

I'm a little nervous. I've felt more vulnerable than this before, yes, but... this is still just so different. I'm actually in love with someone who is nothing short of a great guy. He's fantastical.

And me? I'm alright. I think... I can be funny. I think I have good taste in music, movies, and literature. I'm always smiling. But what if there are a hundred more of me? What if there's a girl with all the same great qualities but without all my bad ones? Someone who isn't insecure, undecided, and obsessed with getting tattoos. Someone who isn't quite so lazy, who is extremely intelligent, and has the voice of an angel?

I wish I felt that no matter what, I was the right choice. Because the trouble of loving someone is that... you just want them to have what's best for them. What if that's not me?

I miss him. Just a little bit.

The Best Feeling Ever

Cool metal vibrates against my skin as I brace myself for the intensified pain. Whizzing is the only sound I can process as the needle begins to mark my skin, carving away my first few layers of flesh. My brain isn't sure whether to feel pain or burning, so a combination of the two whirls through my spine. Blood oozes from the fresh design etched into me. Temptation begs me to touch the wound but logic overrules. My heart flutters when I get a peak in the mirror. This is ecstasy.

Life as of... this moment.

I lack the inspiration to keep writing fiction lately because real life is plaguing me. Honestly, I think the way I was raised is beginning to affect my life in a very negative way. I have realized that I'm not very open and I'm not very forgiving. These are two traits I believe are important to possess.

I wish we lived in a world that didn't function the way ours does. That people were confident enough to be social without having to be impaired. Has anyone else in this world also thought... hey, that's kinda lame? Because I'm stepping up here and saying it is.

I think... I need to get away. I need to go somewhere secluded where I can reevaluate my life and focus on being a writer. I can't wait to go to spain. I can't wait to accomplish all that I want to do and actually feel proud of myself.

Right now, everything is pretty sucky. The past keeps reaching after me as the future isn't fulfilling me. It's hard when you have someone who knows you, knows what you need, knows what you want, and then you have someone who doesn't get it. You try and get the attention of one but when they aren't there... all you want to do is turn back to what's familiar and treats you right. Well, that's lame. That's worse than having to be impaired to be social. Having to have someone makes me feel like a failure.

Dooo dooo dooo doo.

My main goals right now:

*Drop down to a size 3 at least, size 1 if I feel it's possible, but I think my bones aren't even that small. I want to be in terrific shape, which is why I have already set up a diet and exercise plan for myself so I can feel good health wise and feel good about the way I look. About freakin' time.

*Stop saying the phrase legit, because it's stupid. Damn it, it catches on though.

*Learn how to be a good student and get good grades. Especially in Spanish, I'm so nervous for that class.

*Learn how to instruct dance!

*Stop wasting money. That's going to be the hardest one. I like buying new piercings, tattoos, clothes, etc.

*Get my book down by my sister's birthday, March 10th. I just have to.

Frarrrrr.

So I'm okay. I'm not great, I'm not even good I would say. I'm definitely not bad in any way, not even a little. I'm right on the dotted line.
I know that this is an adjustment and people change once they start a new life, it's all a matter of getting use to growing up. Problem is, I'm more into the grown up that my sister and brother are (30 and 27, respectively) rather the college kid version. College I suppose is more a time for trial and error, and I suppose I want to fast forward to the place where people actually have a clue.

Uhm.?

I'm working on designing my next tattoo, it's going to be a dragon down my left ankle on the outside. I'm very excited about it. Of course it'll be all black.. I will never get a color tattoo.

My next piercing is an industrial on my left ear. That should be neato.

My next hair change is going to be a red streak on the right side behind my bangs.

I don't know why I'm writing about this, it's so irrelevant to everything... but it's my blog so I DO WHAT I WANT.


I feel so completely weird right now I can't even fully describe it. So I won't.

My New Fictional Story

I'm writing a story about a girl named Blake Slate, who decides to change her perception of her life. Should be interesting if I write it well...

It's on my new blog:

thestarswillguideyou.blogspot.com

I think from now on anything fictional will be there!

:D

Let Us Linger Here A While In The Foolishness Of Things

I want to be beautiful. Not like... Oh wow, your spirit is radiant and your heart is kind... beautiful.
I want to be beautiful. I want to be striking.

It's so ridiculous, letting something like physical appearance dominate how you feel about yourself. I can't help it, it's the way I was raised.

People have told me I'm beautiful, as every person should get to experience that. But I feel this is a custom, I feel that's it's just lies and slander being whispered to me.

Today my brother said to me, "Every time you say you don't like the way you look, I am so confused. You're pretty. You're beautiful, you always look great because that's what you are. A pretty girl."

And his words should've meant something, right? But they didn't. All I could feel was disgust when I looked in the mirror.

Maybe it's not that I was to be found beautiful by other people. I want to be my own unique type of beauty that I find extraordinary. Maybe I already am but I'm too blinded by insecurity to see myself. To see that maybe.. I do think I'm beautiful.

I hope I believe it someday.

**********************************************************************************

I'm sick of friendships that aren't meaningful. I only want strictly awesome amazing people I really connect well with in my life from now on. I'm so ready for college, for starting something completely new. However, I'm holding onto the people and parts of myself that I love and matter most to me. I don't feel like that's a bad thing, even if people say you shouldn't go to college attached. Now generally that's directed towards relationships, but think about it... There are so many other things to be attached to, and I personally am attached to soda, tv, sleeping, and expensive clothes way more than I should be. Those things definitely will hold me back more than a love interest ever would. I think my love life makes the world brighter, and as long as I'm happy I'd like to continue with it. I think that soda is unhealthy and I should let go of that one. I think tv is a distraction but grey's and glee are worth it. I think sleeping is essential. The expensive clothes... haven't bought any yet and don't plan on buying them until I make millions being awesome at the things I love to do. So... that's how I feel about life right now. Life is going places, I don't feel I'm at any sort of destination.. and that's okay. There is no destination.

The One.

I want to be the one.
The one girl that you just can't live without.
I want to be the girl that you brag to everyone about because you just feel so lucky to have her.
The one girl that your family and friends adore.
I want to be the one you can picture a future with.
The one girl that means everything.

Give me a chance to be her.

Book idea?

My whole life I craved magic. I read books and watched movies and sung melodies that carried the presence of mystery, paranormal, and fairy tale. I fell victim to thinking my life would never been as amazing as a wizard's, a mermaid's, or a sorceror's. I begged the universe to grant me powers, I asked a fictional God to give me clearity on my purpose.

Nothing happened.

But my dreams... my dreams are more vivid than my actual life. My dreams were powerful, exhillarting, and MAGICAL. Every night I had adventures, always in a Saga format. One feature length film at a time, all in succession. Those around me said there dreams didn't follow the same pattern. Apparently they had a random happening every time they fell asleep, nothing ever made sense.

Something happened.

It dawned on me, that perhaps my perception of what was dreaming and what was reality is flipped. That maybe someone in my "dream" life doesn't want me to know that it was all real. Somehow I was tricked into believing that this average life of mundane activity and endless, unfulfilled desires is everything.

I think I'm trapped.

Part 4: Fast forward

Turn the page. A new life, a new beginning, a seemingly new me. Here I was in a new town, trying accept that this is what I have become. I sat in the front row of my Biology class, as I did in most of my classes because alphabetical order was a torture device. I wanted to be in the back, where I wouldn't feel people staring at the back of my head. I hated attention, but I needed it. I needed to be noticed, to be important, to be special. I couldn't believe it myself, so maybe hundreds of burning eyes in one school day would be enough to give me a wake up call. One can only dream.

My teacher seemed to relate to football more than biology. We were talking about evolution, something I was hesistant to learn about. Many ideas of evolution conflict with creationism, and I wanted to stay lost in that day dream. I didn't want to question what I have been given. A few wise cracks from jocks would interrupt the teaching session, and then Mr. D, I suppose he only felt he deserved one letter of his last name uttered, would continue on a rant about football strategies. Kill me.

One boy near me was very smart. I could tell because he knew everything before Mr. D explained it. He got this look on his face that said, I know the answer, come on, CHALLENGE me. I was determined to do better than him this whole semester. I wanted to be the smartest. I was used to being the smartest. A series of small towns and small schools can do that to a person. But now, in a school with 2000 beings I didn't care to meet, I knew that it would be much more difficult to be the best.

Scribbled on a complementary popcorn bag

I gaze idly at the seconds ticking by on the digital clock before me. Almost time, I think. A few mundane tasks keep me busy as I try to ignore the incessant changes of numbers on the screen. Time. An imaginary measurement we created to make ourselves seem more permanent rather than to face our own mortality. Two minutes have passed since my last glance. What was I waiting for? My goal time of day and then what? Then nothing. The thought was so bittersweet. Still two minutes. I don't know why I only possess the ability to make this figment of my imagination go slower. I want to pick up the pace, to get to a point where something other than this nothingness is happening. Is that even possible? This job is so boring. The constant phrases of "would you like butter flavoring on that?" and "you know, for twenty-five cents more you could make that a large" seem to be coming from a source outside myself. Perhaps working a day shift is an out of body experience. But then why am I so aware of the clock? Four fucking minutes.

Thank you for the music, the songs I am singing.

Shinedown "45"

So whatever happened to the young man's heart?
It's swallowed by pain as he slowly fell apart.
And I'm staring down the barrel of a 45,
I'm swimming through the ashes of another life.
There's no real reason to accept the way things have changed,
staring down the barrel of a 45.

Avenged Sevenfold "Fiction"

Gave you all I had to give
Found a place for me to rest my head
While I may be hard to find
Heard there's peace just on the other side

Not that I could
Or that I would
Let it burn
Under my skin
Let it burn

Left this life to set me free
Took a piece of you inside of me
All this hurt can finally fade
Promise me you’ll never feel afraid


********************************************************************************

Music shakes my soul.

Right now my heart hurts,
I don't know why.
I feel like I should cry,
but I have no tears.

Music saves my soul.

If I don't say it out loud, it won't be true.

If you don't want all of me,
every last part that makes me so difficult,
every screaming cry for help,
every high pitched giggle,
every broken dream and insecurity,
every fairytale belief and endless love,
then LET GO OF ME.

Please stop calling me in if this is just leading to an end.
I can't fathom an end, not right now.
Please stop making me lose balance and control,
if you're just going to break my heart like all the others.

I'm scared.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx don't speak.

If you have to leave, I wish that you would just leave...
Because your presence still lingers here and it won't leave me alone.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx don't be there.

If I don't say the words out loud,
it can't be true.
If I keep pretending that you're here with me,
I'll never be alone.
If I don't give up on this nightmare,
my dream could be real.

Lover, Hey, Fuck You

I can see everything here with my third eye.

#################################################

When I was young I thought it'd be appropriate to leave
I believed running away from fears was always the key
But as I aged I found facing my evils and throwing up my defenses
Was much more respected than hiding behind my pretenses

The shadows were killing me, slashing my life
I knew that I couldn't give up, I had to fight
But they were too powerful, I couldn't hold my own
So something inside me started to accept the unknown

I granted night creatures the freedom to attack

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

My torture has been my fault
My agony was caused by me
I don't know how to handle that.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

This evening I saw a star fall
I worried it was hurt
I didn't want to see it's pain

Curse those who took advantage
Wishing on a broken star
Who could possibly think that's sane?

The night felt endless
I stared at the dust in the sky
Where I saw that star

Shrieking silence filled the air
And I was so frightened
I hoped that it wouldn't be too far

I walked outside and followed
An illuminated path meant to be chosen
To help the universe find balance

As I approached I saw an abyss
I took a breath, it was now or never
I faced starry death in a trance

Falling forever, falling with purpose
I found that star along the way
And we fell together

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All the soarings of my mind begin in my blood. - Rainer Maria Rilke.

************************************************************

I want to sing.
I want the world to hear me.
I want to project my heart.
I want the world to feel me.
I want to dance.
I want the world to join me.
I want to cry.
I want the world to comfort me.
I want to scream.
I want the world to help me.
I want to fall.
I want the world to catch me.

======================================================

This year in school some of my friends were assigned to write about what they believed in. I began to question myself - What do I believe in?

I believe in love. I believe that one day you can feel empty and the next you can feel full. I believe that no matter how many times you are betrayed, you are still cared for. I believe that sometimes all it takes is one moment with one person to make a lifetime feel worth it. I believe in love. I believe we are alive for love, that without it we'd be lost. I believe emotions cause magic, and love creates miracles. I believe that the cynics try to disprove it's existence. I believe that anyone who doesn't believe in it has yet to experience it. I believe that love is a force, love is alive.

I believe in suicide. I believe one can accept the power to decide when their life ends instead of leaving it up to the universe. I believe in controlling your misery. I believe that your body is a cage and your spirit wants to break free. I believe it's okay to do that for yourself.

I believe in the unethical. I believe in murder. I believe in rape. I believe in suffering. I believe in pain. I believe in the absurdity of life. I believe that I have to accept it all or else I'd die of sadness. I believe that I hide behind these darker beliefs to prevent showing weakness. I believe it's okay to pretend you are stronger than you actually are. I believe it's okay to believe in ugly things.

I believe in music. I believe my heart has a rhythm meant to be strummed, drummed, or sung. I believe it's okay to cry because of the honesty in your own voice. I believe singing is healing. I believe that everyone is connected through music.

I believe in writing. I believe in this blog. I believe in myself. I believe in someday reaching everyone else.