People don't fucking care

What I post about until I say something drastic like "I want to kill myself." That's such lame bullshit.

God I wish it didn't hurt me. But writing is the biggest part of me. What I say here and on my other blogs... it's ME.

And I just want someone to say something to me.

Responsibility

It's not easy to be responsible. It's not easy to always be your word. It's not easy for every action you take to have the best intentions.

But the word responsibility doesn't imply ease.

Accepting your role, accepting your life, accepting what you have to do in order to live your life the way you want... sounds a lot easier than it actually is.

So many people want to have a certain career, yet take little to no action to make it happen. So many people wish to have the love of their life without first taking steps to make sure they love their own life.

When you're being your word, being true to what you desire most out of life, things have a way of just falling into place.

So...

Holy. Fuck.
What an excellent way to conclude an evening.

I know you're reading, guys

And I'm thankful for that. I'm sorry I haven't had anything that interesting to say in a while. Truth is, I'm so overwhelmed by emotions these days, it's hard to fit them here in this space. I'm filled with love I have for so many people in my life right now. I am filled with sorrow and regret for the way that my friendship with Jessamyn has changed and the way I cut off from Ben. I am nervous everyday for the unexpected, but so excited at the same time. I'm scared for some people, happy for others. For myself, I'm okay. I sense that my days here may be longer than I thought. I think I've found a place in my mind inbetween the rage and love. There lies my serenity. I'm working on a book, but doing a poor job of it. I'm about to attend a three-day education program on helping myself... I wonder if it'll prove me wrong and actually benefit me. I'm lying in my bed listening to music and typing, feeling no urge whatsoever to mutilate myself. I like who I am. Funny, because I had a breakthrough the other night while I was rather intoxicated. I realized that I am awesome, I just have to remember to be it. I can't let apathy dominate my personality. I'm better than that.

Here's to... the journey.
And last night driving through the storm, I found something to believe in.

Copy Cat

I'm going to post ten confessions as well, because Tia did, and it sounded like something I need to do right now.

Confession #1: I don't believe in the landmark forum. I'm not excited for my upcoming weekend. I'd rather engage in shenanigans with friends or be with my wonderful boyfriend.

Confession #2: I could eat breakfast foods for the rest of my life, nothing else, and never get sick of it. Or peanut butter toast. I'm just that content with them.

Confession #3: I seldom look up words I don't know how to spell. Usually I'll find another way to say something, but every now and then there is a word I reallllllly want to use but just cannot spell. Rare. But it still happens.

Confession #4: I wish something tragic would happen to me just so I could get some attention. I've thought about seriously injuring myself or wandering to dangerous places in the middle of the night. I don't know why I have this bizarre craving.

Confession #5: I'm trying so hard not to be completely in love. I didn't want to rush into feeling that way. In fact, I wanted to be single for a long time. But here I am, in the midst of something so wonderful I can't hold back. And I hate that I can't hold back. I don't want to ruin it.

Confession #6: I'm not nearly as intelligent as I think I am.

Confession #7: I hate summer. I hate having open days with nothing to do. As much as I complain and complain about the bitchiness of school and work... I need it. I desire it. I hate going three months with no school.

Confession #8: I want to have a sexy Italian accent. That may be the only reason I'm talking Italian next semester.

Confession #9: I absolutely love to sing. I wish I could sing all the time, in front of anyone. I wish I would have the courage to ever try belting something out. I did once, in 8th grade while watching high school musical for the first time. I sang "Start of Something New." I received no reactions from my friends, so I decided that meant I was absolutely horrible.

Confession #10: I really, really want to be serenaded. In person.

That picture. That I love you. It's there to hurt me everyday.


Why do I have to feel that way?

Life would be beautiful

if it were easier to die.

Realization.

Whenever I feel happiness, I want to die.

A moment that's so incredible I shake and turn away. I run. Why can't I just keep looking at him? Why do I need that brief pause?

Every time I feel that good, I want it to all go away. I want to end on a note of perfection rather than battling demons and losing.

Nobody wants to die a "bad" way. Nobody wants to be brutally murdered or tortured or feel so sad they starve themselves to death or whatever the case.

It's usually, old age, in my sleep, with the one I love...

When I'm happy I want to die so I never experience the sad again. I want it all to end before it gets bad.



How am I ever supposed to feel healthy? How am I ever supposed to rid myself of all that anxiety that destroys me? How am I ever supposed to allow myself to be comfortable being me, living, and wanting to live? How... can I be?

I should bite my tongue...

this is only the beginning of something great. I have a feeling.

I'm so afraid

that you'll never look at me the way you looked at her.

Cracks on the Screen

My lap top broke, there are cracks along the screen surrounded by black and red shades. It's highly distracting and annoying... But I can still work with them there. It doesn't completely ruin everything.


I have scars on my skin, and, to my parents, they are highly distracting and annoying. They are a reminder of their "failed" years.

I have memories that bring me pain. They are highly distracting and annoying, incessantly trying to attack every good thing in my present.

But these things don't completely ruin everything. I can live with them.


I think.

Girls are silly. I'm silly.

They're so catty, and they just keep clawing and clawing.

I hate fighting. I hate conflict. Yes, every good story needs conflict. Well.. I suppose, I create it within myself more often than anything.

I try to avoid fighting with friends. In the past, this made me have like one or two huge fights with girls I was friends with. But now, I can't see ever fighting with any of them. Why? Well, I've grown up a little. I'm just not bothered by things that used to bother me. I accept my friends. And if they have a problem with me, I just walk away from it.

But girls are always causing drama, right? Honestly, I think it's because they're all too proud to admit that they are either: jealous, selfish, or hurt. Instead they attack, attack, attack! Rather than explain the REAL reason they are feeling upset.

I like to be honest about that stuff. No confusion. But with some people, that can even be difficult. In my experience, my words usually get twisted away from me, and start to mean something else. And that one... just makes me give up. What's the point? One a person is so locked into an idea, they aren't going to just up and change because I say: I love you and I care.

People are so frustrating! Don't they see that all this fighting is just a waste of time? Get down from your high horse or simply move on. If you stir drama, you care. You want to provoke something out of the other person. What's the god damn point?

I know, I'm ranting. But this is a good distraction from my fear of night. Instead focusing on the parts of the human race that I cannot stand. But, confession... I sometimes wish I could be like them. Believe me, I have tried. Some may even tell you I am just because one attempt seemed to go well.

But... I'm just not. Frankly, I just don't give a flying fuck. But I wish I did.

And I wish that I didn't have to think like this all the time. I wish that I could just be like "LOLZ LYF IS GR8!" all the freaking time. But I just can't! I'm always questioning, always seeking, always ignoring every day life to get a glimpse of eternity.

Simple-minded would be nice right now

Even everything will never be enough.

I've realized this. My head is aching. I can't sleep. God, what I would give to just be able to sleep. I'm afraid of the dark, afraid of my dreams, afraid of night.

I'm waiting for the sun to rise, because that's when everything can be alright.

And... my heart feels that same kind of ache, just not as dominant. It's faintly pumping fear into my veins. Just now, I heard a slight noise and I'm terrified I'm going to die.

But... why am I so terrified? Once I tried to make that happen. A lot of times, I wish I could have the strength to try again. Now, it would be a way to end all this suffering I feel at 4:33 am.

Every fucking night I'm alone, it's like this. What's wrong with me?

Why can't I see the beauty in everything?

Why can't I get past the fear?

Why am I torturing myself like this?

Only Just A Dream

I'll wait for you forever, if you didn't already know that about me.

All the times I've failed and all the times they did... It was practice for the real thing. I changed.

I became who I needed to be to make you happy.

And we could have it all, if you didn't already know that about us.

I only hope that you can feel what I feel, see what I see. That perhaps, defying all logic, I was made for you and you were made for me.

Dead Time

The time when all the worlds align. When ghosts can wander Earth in search for something to end their suffering.

I don't know about all that.

But I know I'm scared at this time. I'm awake, it's late, and I'm shaking. It's dark, and I want to turn on the lights but I can't move.

I'm alone. But I'm not.

I feel it here. Since I was a little girl, I saw these shadows that threatened to hurt me. I know that makes me sound crazy. But there's one here, a man, and I can't let him touch me.

But he does and I can't stop him.

I'm awake, it's late, and I'm shaking. He grabs my wrists hard, holds them above my head. I'm sinking into the bed. If only I could fall through, fall forever.

I need to be saved.

And I've waited my whole life for someone to take away the pain you caused me. To clean up the mess you made me. To heal the wounds you gave me.

That person will never come.

At least, until I realize that it's me. That I have to do that for myself. But right now, I don't think I have the strength. It's taking all my energy to stay alive, remember that life's worth living for all the moments I can't stop smiling. Those times when my mind seems to forget, for just a little while. When my heart is safe, my body feeling great, and my soul open to endless possibilities.

But how do I survive dead time?

!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I just had the most amazing idea. Now I just need microsoft word on my computer.

I don't know what to say

I feel like my heart is going to hurt forever.

What Does It Take To Be A Poet? (Slam :) first one)

What does it take to be a poet? To spell out pain like no one knows it, make listeners shake from hearing your broken sores open. Dashed with salt to burn and show it melt the only love in your life.

What does it take to be a poet? To recite the song of night like it was always your lullaby, make listeners dream from hearing your melody ring out from the silence in shadows at midnight.

I wish I could charm like a poet does, feed your soul like a poet does, show you the world like a poet does...

But I can't.

I'm nothing but the dot above an eye on the page, blind with rage and love, unafraid to walk in lightning but paralyzed when asked to give my name. And God, I'm so pathetic, with a heart that bleeds and pleads for someone else to think I'm human when in reality you have to care to be one of them.

What does it take to be a poet? I'll never understand because I can't scream my words like they can, attack paper like they can, change a life like they can.

All I do is whisper while my surroundings shout, blocking me out. And all I manage to do on paper is messy scrawls that taper off in corners and scratched out phrases noted with stars. As for changing a life, I don't see how someone who tried to end theirs is up for the task. Someone who's addicted to slashing and crashing while blood falls. Added, fuel to fire, and desire, desire, desire.

I'll never understand my heart like a poet can. Like a poet does. A heart that beats to stop, that jumps to fall, that breaks to stitch itself together piece by piece. A heart that never speaks but always tells, that never gives but always enchants, that never seeks but always finds romance. A heart that can't contain all the blood that soars through these veins. Trapped, by the pain of sixteen years with no name, but endless shame.

What does it take to be a poet? Someone who isn't scared to know it; someone who can't leave their bare soul to decay on Earth while their mind runs to uncharted stars. A few rhymes, a message, a flow to unify that doesn't even seem to try. And, by the end, I start to cry because I wish I could fly like the blood in my veins. I wish my heart could beat the same as all those who have felt the same disdain with much more fame.

What does it take to be a poet? Alive inside, alive outside. Alive sleep, alive wake. Alive love, alive hate. Alive heart, alive brain. Alive spirit, alive remains an immortal phrase on a slowly dying page, written by a soon forgotten dreamer in a waking age.

Spoken, by someone who will NEVER again live afraid.

I'm here in my room as schneidy is filming me and I'm supposed to be typing. I decided I might as well use this opportunity to write a fascinating piece of art. Jk. Lolz. I don't know what to write now this is awkward I'm trying really hard not to smile as I type and I'm realizing how much I mess up and I have to use the backspace key.

Ready

:)
Thursday.
I can't wait.