I really admire you and the person you have become.
You must not know me. You shouldn’t admire me. If you had my brain, or stepped into my skin. I think you would admire everything around yourself except yourself
I’m going to be lonely tonight. Meh.I wanna stay up until school starts, and I’ll go. I’ll do the same as I do everyday. And I’ll come home mad. I’ll go to the gym. I’ll visit the hospital.
I’ll think thoughts that I fear no one else could ever understand. Or they look at me and think of the most boring things, and they could never care.
I want texts, and mail. And questions.
Why does my life has to be so depressing and plain all the time?
FEELING..
Like I should post this, just so I don’t lose it. I had to take it off so everything could fit on the side.
My obsessions include but are not limited to; red hair, blogging, lazy sundays, seattle, old buildings, holding hands, learning espanol, photography, music, longboarding in the rain, discovering new bands, cutting my hair, thrifting, writing my book, the bible, jones soda, TOMS, paint brushes, sunlight, insomnia, flickr, hugs, people watching, poetry, coffee shops, piercings, v-necks, blonde hair and blue eyes, flirting, tagging, cafe vita, tall people, bones, crooked teeth, late night calls, pokemon, concerts, Andrew Nichols, natural beauty, literature, 1920’s, surrealism, little moments that make only me smile.
It’s hard to know you won’t be here. There won’t be coffee in the kitchen, that you’ve made. You won’t be sleeping on the couch when I come home from school. You’ll be off in your own life. Your own world. With a new family, and new people to care about. You said, “Don’t let what happens to us define you as a person, Mariah.” I won’t let it define me. But it still is going to be part of who I am. The man that has lived in this house for the past 16 years of my life. This shadow, has already defined my life. I’m going to miss you, Dad.
need to write, need to write.
It’s odd. This place I’ve wound up in. I’m reading the writings and drawings scribbled all over the wall. I threw all those CD’s and letters you wrote me in the fire. To burn. Through all the miles I’ve picked up laying on this cold ground, and the hours I’ve spent worrying about who I was. I just needed to be angry. The rabbit crawled from my chest and whispered in my ear, “You’ll regret this you know. Stop.” All I could do was make a black hole in the earth hoping every feeling I’ve ever had would go there with it. “All these things you do while you’re angry. You’ll be more upset after it’s over with child. All the memories and treasures you saved in that chest, you’ll cry now that they are gone. Because you loved that person more then your heart can fathom. It was no fallacy. Stop. Go back.”And time rewound. The flames sucking back into nothing. And my head went to being straight. The screams hushed into my lips and I went back to hanging my coat up on the first bar. I went back.
Myy sissstaaaa :DMy laughs, my sarcasm, my joy, my bestfriend, my helping hand, and my advice.I wouldn’t be the person I am today without you right by my side :)Mia: What should I write about Sara?! Sara:I dunno? Mia: Welll tell me.. Give me a subject? Sara:Write about… your armpit? Mia: My armpit, on certain days, doesn’t smell very good. On the weekends it has a very distinct “I have leftover deoderant on” then some days it smells liike a rejected fart. Some days it smells like dove, sercret, suave, whatever I decided to stick in the pit. But right now it smells like I need to shave kay thanks. Bye.
+
BOOM.
Everything is beautiful and nothing hurts. Every song is compiled wonderfully and leaves me laying on the floor, empty. It’s how I feel most days. Especially when the rain falls. I watch it outside, singing to the little drops. They are just as significant as me. My dreams are filled with your face. My sheets caress me in every way possible, they make me feel like I’m worth a little more then nothing. Today is yesterdays tomorrow, and every crack in the sidewalk is a new adventure. Laughter is a rejected tear. The tree outside has no leaves but I’m glad I’ll be here to see it be happy again. Everyday is something new. Yesterday is gone. Today I sat down to write a letter to you, even though I forgot your address. Maybe the mail woman will know just how much you mean to me. She will drive the long hours, all night and most of the frosty morning. Till she ends up on your door, and hands it to you. You’ll leave it in the living room and the other mail will end up on top of it. My love will collect dust and eventually we will forget about each other, like we are supposed to. Like everyone else does. Pretending this never even happened. Then I won’t keep coming back to it, my brain won’t keep having these memory hiccups. Today, was a bad day. I shut up all the light in my room and lay in the middle of my floor. We were together. Looking at each other. You touched my face and ran your fingers across my nose. I opened my eyes, to find myself alone. It hit me just then, I like being alone, because I’m comfortable this way. It’s how it’s been how it always will be. I’m still going to love the way it feels to feel numb, to stretch my fingers out and feel every pull of my muscles. To write the way I feel. Seeing a good friend, for the first time.. in a long time. Get a message from someone who mattered. Waking up to sunshine on my face. Being submerged so deep in myself that I don’t want to leave, that I’m okay with this disgust that I harbor. Lowering my eyelids on the horizon, and seeing that everything surrounding me is beautiful. I am beautiful. All that I ever had, is all that I was going to get.
I feel as if I just misspelled that. My mom made cookies. Mm. I have found like a billion flickr’s in the past five minutes and I’m going crazy.I cannot wait to pick up my film camera.
I want to develop them on my own. I just realized I started all these sentences with I.
Oh man.
+
"He’s in a different state. There is nothing to offer except a few pictures, his voice, and a phone call once in a while. He’s nothing to lose sleep over. And if he meant anything he had said, he would be knocking at that door right there. He hasn’t. And you have people here that care about you and what’s going to happen to you. If you got hurt tomorrow, he wouldn’t show up. He wouldn’t even know and if he did, he still wouldn’t come to you. He is nothing to be hurt over."
There are lots of things I would like to not think about so much. But I don’t think I wouldn’t want those memories in my brain. Because everything that I have ever had to go through or anything feeling I’ve had. It’s made me who I was. And I thank those people who made me feel so bad about myself because I know I’ll never feel that low again.
I wish I was a wolf.
+
I’m never ever going to be able to do things right. I’m always going to do things for the wrong reasons. Miss people without them missing me. I’m always going to be different. I’m always going to be screaming. I can’t stand myself. Through all the things I change. And all the ways I try to be something else. I wish I had someone to talk to, someone who didn’t know anything about me. That couldn’t say they knew me, and they couldn’t judge me. They could just listen to my story and I could listen to theirs.
I realized today, I am ignored so much. I try to say things and no one cares. And people don’t want to get to know me. I’m so endlessly boring. And uninteresting.
Maybe it’s just one of those days.
Stop thinking about the past, and how much you and other people fcked up. Those things already happened, and you can’t go back and change them. And you know, you still want to be friends with Alex but he’s just not letting you. I’m pretty sure he knows you still want to be friends with him, so obviously it’s not worth it. Keep telling yourself this everyday so you can live a happier life. These people hurt you, and they don’t care. Deal with it.
From,
Sophie
Oh. I know this feeling.
you can't put your arms around a memory
I’m not supposed to talk about it.
The rain is everywhere right now. It’s so warm. I remember what you said, about us together. In the rain. I’m not supposed to think about it, or talk about it. Because in my mind I pretend like it never happened. But if you may know, every time it rains I think about you. Once in a blue moon. I can’t help it though. It comes down so hard and when I’m feeling completely endless. I remember. It ruins my night.
Oh.. my.
I was in the car, and the rain was beating down so hard on the winsheild that I couldn’t see the road. If I closed my eyes.. I knew I could find the road, with all it’s potholes and bumps. All the turns and twists that lead me home. I could find those. I could see them and feel them. This place where I’m at. The place that they call home. I’ve traveled it so many times it’s part of me. Today I felt so tiny. I want to know the roads all the way to California. I want to stretch my fingers on the map and recognized the bike parks of Oregon, and the waves at Seaside. I want to stretch across the country where I live and know my aunt’s field in Tennessee. I want the tall buildings and architecture of New York to be in between my fingers. There are continents and countries, people I’ve never seen and will never see again. I want so bad to touch it all, to see it all. Then I want to sit all those people I meet down and listen to what they have to say. I want to hear about everything. All the things they kept back from everyone. If I could I would spend my whole entire life brushing my feet across the earth, even if I didn’t make any marks. Any impact. I just want to know that your footsteps may have been in line with mine.
Day 1
Dear Sara,
You’ve heard how much I love you a thousand times. I can’t tell you how much of a friend you have been to me. You’ve seen me at my absolute worst. You’ve seen me when everyone else would walk away. Over this past year I really don’t know what I would do without your guidance and laughter. Honestly, it’s been the best year and half of my life. I feel like we’ve been best friends forever. And when someone asks me who my best friend is, I have no hesitation because you are the only one who says they’ll be there and mean it. Maybe tumblr wants me to tell you something profound and wonderful, but I’m not going to. I think I’ve said everything tear worthy kid. All I know is, you don’t find people like you. You don’t find more Sara Peterson. You don’t find people who hold you when you cry, or buy you things even though it makes you feel bad. I’m not going to find someone who thinks I’m cool because I pick the skin off my sunburn or pees in her backyard with me. People like that aren’t just walking around. You know the promises I have made and all the plans we have together when we get older. I’m glad I have another sister. And really all I can say to you is.. Thank You. I wouldn’t be who I am today without you.
Dear Mom and Dad,
You’ve spent 24 years arguing with each other. Mom, you spent most of your life trying to tell people you love them. You put everyone in front of you, you aren’t perfect but who is? You make me angry sometimes, you make me frustrated, but if you weren’t hear I don’t know what I’d do with my life. I don’t know who I would be or what I would do with my life if you weren’t hear guiding me. People don’t always understand you, but I am just like you. From your eyes to the way you move your hands, to how you handle people’s feelings. How strong I am and my flaws, I wouldn’t want them to be from anyone else. I love you, and I hope you know how much I mean that.
Dad, you think I want nothing to do with you, and that’s not true. I’ve gone sixteen years trying to hear you say I love you and I never really realized what those words meant until you are starting to leave. I’m always going to care about you, you’ve helped me become strong and know just how beautiful my life is. I’ve learned so much from you and I see much of you in myself. I know you won’t always be here at home, but I want you to know I WANT you to be there when I graduate and give me a hug, help me move all the boxes when I move out. I want you in my life, these 16 years I’ve always known you loved us. Don’t be afraid to let us in. I hate seeing you cry. I love you.
I want to be beautiful and wild and free like you. When we are in the car your hair is just long enough for me to run my fingers through and your beard is just long enough to tickle my cheek when you lean in to whisper the day into my ears. I want so much for you to touch every ocean and avenue we see. I want to take you everywhere. The sun is setting tonight. The wolves howl with the midnight sun. Trust me tonight. I won’t say I love you. I won’t ask you to stay. I just want you here, I want all of you here. Tonight. With me.
Day 5
Dear Dreams,
Without you, ever word I’ve ever written would be a lie. Maybe I should be thanking my self conscious, but I’m only ever inspired after I wake up. With all the saw dust and shooting stars I’ve collected in my brain, you’ve produced a kaleidoscope filled with something I struggle to put in words. But you inspire me, thank you, Dreams.
Hahahahaha.
10 Rules for Dating my Daughter Rule One: If you pull into my driveway and honk you’d better be delivering, because you’re sure not picking anything up.
Two: You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her while talking, so long as you do not peer below her neck. If you cannot keep your hands off of my daughter’s body in public, I will remove them from your arms.
Rule Three: I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don’t take this as an insult, but I think you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: Should you come to the door with your underwear showing and/or your pants ten sizes too big, I will not object. However, in order to ensure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers securely in place to your waistline.
Rule Four: I’m sure you’ve been told that in today’s world, sex without utilizing some kind of “barrier method” can kill you. Let me elaborate, when it comes to sex, I am the deadly barrier. You will not have sex with my daughter until after you marry her. My permission is required before you make any proposal to her. Any attempts to do so will result in your disappearance. No, I will not make this a public affair that would embarrass you. Your disappearance will say more than a public announcement.
Rule Five: It is usually understood that in order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only words I need from you on this subject is:”Sir” and “early.”
Rule Six: I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make you scream.
Rule Seven: As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating my daughter. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process than can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why don’t you do something useful, like cutting my lawns or changing the oil in my pickup trucks?
Rule Eight: The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are no crowds, beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or carefree happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka — zipped up to her throat. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which features chain saws or hangings are okay. Hockey games are okay. Old folks homes are better.
Rule Nine: Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a potbellied, balding, middle-aged, dimwitted has-been. But on issues relating to my daughter, I am the all-knowing, merciless God of your universe. If I ask you where you are going and with whom, you have only one chance to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. In my shop and my home I have many chemicals, such as hot lime, many firearms, shovels, a backhoe, and five hundred acres behind the house. “Do not mess with my mind if you wish to see the next sunrise. Short truthful answers are best”.
Rule Ten: After dark, you will blow your horn once, only once, when leaving the highway. As soon as you pull in front of the house, you should exit the car with both hands in plain sight. Speak in a clear voice that you have brought my daughter home safely and early, remain standing next to your car. Do not escort my daughter to the front door hoping for a kiss on the cheek — there is no need for you to come inside my home after the sun sets. After my daughter enters the house, restart your car and quietly leave my property. The speed limit is 10 mph entering or exiting the property. Do not stop to chat with the man holding the night sight equipped rifle, that will be me. Cautionary Niota: Be afraid of me. Yes, very, very afraid. It takes very little for me to mistakenly determine that the dust cloud from your fancy car on the dirt road from the highway is an attack on our home. After the sunsets, as I wait for you to bring my daughter home, Agent Orange or other things I have been exposed to frequently start acting up, the voices in my head tell me to clean, lock and load all the weapons in my arsenal. To prepare for a Level ONE attack after dark. I have confused the sound of musical noises coming from a young mans car in my driveway with a Huey chopper firing into a rice paddy outside Da Nang during a midnight mortar attack, so turn the music off! I hope you have a pleasant experience dating my daughter!
Day 6
Dear Stranger,
I suppose this could be to everyone on tumblr. Everyone who doesn’t know me that reads this. Because you don’t know me nor do I know you. Whoever you are, I want you to know that you’re beautiful. The most beautiful person maybe. Through all the decisions you feel are wrong and all the times you feel sick to your stomach because of who you are, remember that your life is a piece of art. Every piece that is put together makes who you are, and the person you are, who you’ve become can never be taken away by anyone but yourself. Whether you do drugs, or you don’t. Your parents are divorced or not. You’ve been hurt, you’ve been saved. You’re in love, you hate them. All the things you do and will do are not insignificant, in anyway. You will never be worth nothing, and I hope you remember that.
I don’t even know you and I love you.
Day 7
Dear HJH,
Today I’m supposed to write to a an ex crush? I guess you count as that. You can deny as much as you want. But I’m not going to deny it, I did like you at one point. The funny thing is.. all this time I thought of all the things I could possibly say to you if you had a chance to read them, but I have nothing to say to you. Idgaf kid.
Sincerely, Mariah.
I’m peering into the sun and my aspirations and dreams wither within the flecks of light. I desire to see what you see, hope what you hope, dream what you dream. This way I can’t call it my own, I can’t be ashamed of a life I won’t stand to live. I reach out over this map, closing my eyes. Imagining what it feels like, every mountain peak, rough.. majestic. These waves rush into my finger tips washing away what i have done. Aspiring to go everywhere, feel everything. To let life take my very breath away. To understand how infinite my heart feels to be different. Shed tears over the beauty of these words. Finally grasp the profoundness of finding love through all the hate. Then, I beckoned you over. We talked without words, and we loved without touch. I saw the simplicity of you and adored it. Take this mask I wear, store it in the cellar, bury it if you must. Learn the new lines of my face. The ones forming from change. My dear, excuse me, for I am a monster. I wallow in self disgust, and you do not know this pain. Although, I will not fulfill the common hiccup of words.. you are worthless. I’m sitting in the windowsill the phrase racing through my head. The wind is coming through the gap where I sit. Leaving me cold. I hear something, a still ringing in my ear. A sweet lullaby almost, calling me. I leaned and leaned, a little too far out the window. Oops, curiosity. I fell silently, because my mouth had been scribbled out. Then I lay there, in the rose bush, broken. Until you took my hand and taught me to walk again.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/glitterdeers/3953156263/
Day 8
Dear Christopher,
You are the coolest kid I know. You enjoy silly things and I can’t believe that it’s been a year since we started talking, at least a school year :p We have many inside jokes that I can’t call to mind at the moment and you make me LOL via text every time we talk. Day eight is to write to your favorite internet friend, and that would be you (: Because you may potentially be a girl, or sitting in your mom’s basement being a 40 year old man, I love you all the same kid. Not quite sure what I should say, but I giggled while writing this so that means enough said!
LMAO.
Day 9
Dear Andy Hull,
Today is day nine. I have been asked to write to someone I would like to meet. I am in love with your lyrics. I’ve listened to the songs over and over again. It seems almost materialistic and typical that I would want to meet a music artist but besides Jesus, or maybe Hitler. Or Andrew Landon, someone of that importance. I would want to meet you. I’m sure I sound like some fan girl which is creepy because you look considerably older then me, but I am an odd one. I always will be, can’t change that, and I can feel your music and what you are writing about. I don’t hear it. I over analyze it. It’s never just the beats that are pumping through me, the words you sing and the emotion you sing them with pump through me also. I sound like such a fag and a half -_- But honestly, you are truly a beautiful person and I don’t even know you. Also, your beard rocks the casbah.
Cool story bro.Sincerely, Mariah
Day 10
Dear Bee,
It makes me really sad that we aren’t friends anymore. Although I already have a best friend I wish you and I would have never stopped talking. I’m sure it’s partly my fault that I don’t make the effort to talk to you more but friendship is not a one way street. I don’t have any idea what’s going on in your life or what you have been through since we stopped talking but I wish I did. You used to be my best friend and I miss you dear. If you read this, stop by and say hello for me. We need to sit down and catch up on all the time that’s gone by.
Day 12
Dear Myself,
You have caused yourself so much pain. You are the biggest screw up I know. I wish that you would be somewhat normal. That you would stop running away from people. That you would forget about people, quit caring about them, because they don’t care about you. Quit hoping that everything will be okay for you and that you’ll never have to fight for the things you want. Everything that you have ever done, and will do. In the end. Will amount to nothing, kid. Here’s looking to you, and the rest of your life.
Sincerely,
Me.
I have come to an odd realization today. I am SUCH a wallflower. Honestly, I sound like a faggot, but it’s true. I’m such an awkward turtle in groups. Like I will crack that occasional joke and what not, but I do weird things. I don’t think like other people. I get those odd looks from everyone because they think I’m weird and I feel like nobody ever understands what I am saying. I’m really starting to become a recluse. Today I got invited to go to the mall and to be honest I just didn’t want to go. I wanted to go home and sleep or something. Or play with my camera. Or write something. People are so odd to me, also. I have really been paying attention to this more often then not. Sometimes I look in the mirror and I just don’t feel real. If you sit and take a second to process where you are and the things that are going on around you, you would see that life is very very overwhelming. Human beings are so tiny compared to everything.. I can’t even explain the things I felt today. I feel so aware and awake to everything. I wish I could find the words. But I can’t for now.
Meh, I want someone to text me and make me feel special.I expect too much.
I’m not deep, I’m not original. Ask me deep and wonderful things.
I have an unhealthy fear of the dark.
A deep sigh. To end my night. I am thinking about a lot of things.
I want to write, and I can’t find the words right now.That makes me feel lost.. I don’t like it.
Day 13
Today I am supposed to write to someone who I wish would forgive me..
I have no one to write this letter to.Dear Anyone I’ve Hurt,
I’m sorry that things had to go bad between us. I said really mean things because I was angry. I’m not sorry for that because I meant what I said. But I hope you can forgive me, if you haven’t already. I loved you once and will always love you, just know I’ll always have a spot inside me that I saved up for you. It’s still there. I will always care.
I love you.Sincerely, Mariah
Day 16
Dear Rocelyn,
Today I am writing to someone who lives in another state. I thought I’d tell you that I love you, and I am glad you and I started talking. Because a lot of things I don’t think I would see through without your kind words. The other day I almost texted you and asked if you wanted to hang out but I realized you were really far away :/ It’s okay, one day I’ll surprise you or something :p I just wanted to let you know that you are really a special person, and even though I’ve said it before I’ll say it again. You can do anything you put your mind to because I have never met anyone like you. You care very much about others and little about yourself, you actually take time to have conversations with people and you want to listen to what they have to say. You don’t find that very often. You are quite genuine. Keep being true to yourself and don’t ever change. I’ll never meet another Rocelyn. So keep it that way (:
Sincerely,
Mariah
I can’t believe I had forgotten how beautiful love is. I think my love for certain people is the only thing keeping me alive.
I haven’t picked up a pen in days. Not to write anything decent. I remember my dreams more now. They come more vivid, tearing into my pupil. Closing my mouth and taping my eyelids. I’m starting to lose trust in everything, even myself. I don’t know what’s real and what’s not. I keep asking why. Come down to the river mom, hold me in the water and let those bugs crawl under my skin. Make me understand. Make me see something real. All these miles we’ve traveled, back and forth. I can smell the burning rubber in my head. I can feel the road falling apart. I need to stop. I need to stop destroying everything I am. I don’t know how.
Day 18
Dear Person I’d like to be,
I can see you clearly in my head. I know who you are. I know the person I am now. I know I can’t change her, who she is. I’ll always be like this. But there are days, when I’m by myself and I observe the atmosphere I am in just a little bit more. And that song Mad World keeps skipping on the record in my head over and over. It’s depressing how alone I am. Honestly. I will never have “Something about me” Although being needed by people would be nice. Or to have a decent conversation with someone. I see this girl, she knows exactly what she wants, and she isn’t afraid when she walks down the street, hospitals and friendships don’t make her nervous. She doesn’t think about things, she just does them. She doesn’t run away from everyone. She’s thin and has the right hair and her eyelashes are dark enough so that she doesn’t have to wear make up. She knows what to say when someone says they are on acid, or they want to quit drinking. She doesn’t make her mom wish she didn’t have her. She makes her dad stay. She can make things work. I don’t know anymore. I don’t know what’s wrong with me now. I know it won’t change because I don’t want to change. I’m comfortable this way. Because that’s just how I am.. weird or whatever you want to call me.
Sincerely,
Mariah
mother, i’ve tried, please believe me,i’m doing the best that i can.i’m ashamed of the things i’ve been put through,i’m ashamed of the person i am.
the 30 day challenge.
GET IN MY POCKET YOU HANDSOME NERDY LOOKING MAN.
Dear No-one,
I don’t think anyone has broke my heart the “hardest” yeah, shit happens. Welcome to reality. We break our own hearts, if you don’t want to let go of people then don’t let go of them. If others let go of you, they had their reasons. Respect them if you love them as much as you do. If people do shitty things in relationships or friendships, things that are dick moves, were they really worth it? People who care about you, deserve you, and love you. Honest to god love you.. don’t hurt you. So, no one has really hurt me, I’ve just made a nest and laid in it. If that makes any sense.
I think I liked things a lot better when me and you used to run around on my street acting hysterical. Or lay in the floor for so many hours on end, with nothing to say.. that was okay with you, you were never bored. And when we would ride in your car to places we didn’t even knew exist. “I swear I’ll never forget” I keep running around in fields and chasing the river, laughing, turning around. Looking at thin air. I’m getting 93 percent oxygen and 7 percent bullshit. I wish people didn’t have to lie.
I couldn’t help but giggle, just a little bit.
please explain to me the 236 days of forgetting
Well since you said please. About 9 months ago, a light bulb clicked in my head and I realized that I had some decisions to make, so I made those choices. When I was first really upset about it I thought that maybe 236 days was how many it would take to forget about it. That I counted all the days forgetting about that person, and for some reason that number came into my head. It really only took me about 30 days, ahaha. but it has just kind of stuck with me. I like the way it sounds. If you weren’t an anon I would make my answer more personal, I guess.
236 Days of Forgetting
Mariah. Mia, if you pleaseThis is my 2 cents \ Seattle \ Writer
I AM GOD FEARING
"Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence."
Please don't get your panties in a wad if I don't follow you. I don't follow for follow neither am I here to impress you nor gain 10,000 followers.Let's all pretend that this says something about love and existing and that this is a way of self expression.
I have a problem finish things I sta
miércoles, 7 de julio de 2010
martes, 6 de julio de 2010
It’s late, and the moon is in my eye. You keep yelling in my ear. My rabbit heart jumping and running, I feel nothing right now. Silence, my hip popping in and out of place. My weight shifting away from the screaming. And then you mind melt into the colors of the bright TV screen. Sitting there, feeling sorry for yourself. If you are sad I don’t want to know. My mind seems to ease away the memories of when you were here, when I was a baby. But now I could care less if I lost you. This house where we live is not a home. All the screaming and scars we’ve left. I belong no where. It’s a pit stop, this dis-functioning home. And as you hit her, I hope you think of the woman you were in love with when I was little and I knew what parents were like. When this cancer didn’t consume us all. I’ll remember one day. Dad.
Yesterday
I thought I saw you yesterday. But I didn’t stop cause you was walking the opposite way. I guess I could have shouted out your name. But even if it was you I don’t what I would say. We can sit and reminisce about the old school. Maybe share a cigarette because we both fools. Chop it up and compare perspectives. Life. Love. Stress and Set backs. You could tell me how hard you had it. And you could show me all the scares to back it. And we can analyze each complaint Break it down and explain these mistakes I make. I like to tangle up the strings of the puppetry But you knew me back when i was a younger me. You’ve seen Sean in all types of life. And I’ve been meaning to ask you if I’m doing alright. Yesterday, was that you. Looked just like you Strange things my imagination might do. Take a breath reflect on what we’ve been through Or am I just going crazy cause I miss you. I’m Shook. I know. I pushed when I should of pulled. Took it all back if I could I put that on my soul. And I would make a top notch good listener. If you could block off a little time out to give it here. Since we went our separate paths. I hit a couple of snags that remind me of the past I cant front I’m having a blast, but damned if I ain’t afraid of how long its gonna last. Sitting here wishing we could kick it. Gimme your opinions I do miss the criticisms. I didn’t mean to be distant. Make a visit. Ill wait up and keep the coffee brewing in the kitchen. But who am I jokin’ with theres no way that you and I will ever get to re-open it. It doesn’t matter this is more then love And maybe if I’m lucky I’ll see you out the conner of… Yesterday was that you? Looked just like you. Strange things my imagination might do Take a breath reflect on what we’ve been through Or am I just going crazy cause I miss you.. And when you left I didn’t see it coming. I guess I slept it ain’t like you was running. You crept out the front door slow. And I was so self-absorbed I didn’t even know. And by the the time I looked up, it was booked up. You put it all behind you, the bad and the good stuff. A whole house full of dreams and steps I think you’d be impressed with the pieces I kept. You disappeared but the history is still here thats why I try not to cry over split beer. I can’t eve get mad that your gone leaving me probably the best thing you ever taught me. i’m sorry, its official. I was a fistful. I didn’t keep it simple. Chip on the shoulder, anger in my veins. Had so much hatred, now it brings me to shame. Never thought about the world with out you, And I promise, I’ll never say another bad word about you. I thought I saw you yesterday, But I know it wasn’t you, cause you passed away dad. Looked just like you. Strange things my imagination might do. Take a breath reflect on what we’ve been through. Or am I just going crazy cause I miss you.
Black and Blue
They say that eyes contribute towards 85% of your total knowledge. I guess that explains why I loved you so much. I saw something and I fell in love with the image of you. It’s why it was so easy to open my eyes and see something good as I fell of the surface of my feelings.
Every single cell in our body is replaced every seven years. And by my calculations that means by october 2015 the person I will be will have never even touched you.
Distance has widened and new things have grown in place. Nothing is really forgotten but at this point it’s fluid. It’s taken me this long to encourage myself to stop wishing for a return or a sincere apology, to let you go and hold the hand that’s here.
Most heart attacks occur between the hours of 8 and 9 AM. I remember that morning, the one after that is. Where I was laying in bed and the first breath I took of the new morning was at 8:03 to be exact, it hurt so bad and my heart started to spasm and leap. It was trying so hard to get away. The headlights were on it and everyone was watching, the whole world laughing. I started the joke. At one time it was thought that the heart controlled the human emotions, that’s what they say. They also say during a typical human life span, the human heart will beat approximately 2.5 billion times. Not this heart, it beat once. Stop. Now try this again.
well i’ve known since forever that she felt right, different than before, not that my before was that much of anything to compare with anything, but different in this way since the beginning that i felt something in me, like those fastforwarded videos of flowers blooming. and i knew it was something when we promised we’d make this happen, that one day we’d see each other that that was the plan. between all these letters all these promises that she thought of me like i thought of her. i knew it was something when i got on my first plane ever and experianced the most nervous, exciting moment in my life. and when i saw her the first time. easily the happiest day of my life. she came from behind and turned me around and hugged me, held me the tightest i’ve ever been held, and she kept saying you’re real and we compared shaking hands. when we sat in her car in the driveway waiting for hey there delilah to play, because that was one of our songs. when we watched the office and i told her shes beautiful and she cried. when we had our first kiss on the fourth of july under fireworks as we sat in riverfront park on a sesame street sheet. when she came home from work and i jumped on her and kissed her cheek. and how she’d leave me messages with her computer desktop for me to wake up to when she had to work. laying beside her in bed telling her everynight that i love her and kissing her on the cheek. when i’d hold her hand on the gear shift. and all these little things i could name you just about a million i bet. they get all broken down like that; all detailed. and but when i had to leave and we stayed up late that night prior trying to fight it, and she said i’d be back. and i knew it but it still hurt like its supposed to. and she wrote me a quick letter on that map of spokane while we waited and she put it in my bookbag and told me not to read it until i’m up there. and when i read it i just cried some more and all i could do was stare out that window and miss her like hell. and i knew when i was home when i was missing her more than i’d ever miss anyone ever. but i came back in winter, and it just feels like you never left. you kinda realize it there a lot, when it feels like you never left. we exchanged christmas gifts and she gave me watercolors, and other things, but watercolors, well i use them a lot and its the best gift i think i’ve gotten ever. i think about her everytime i paint. i love that a lot. i gave her our promise rings, mine says “born to tell you” and hers says “i love you” cause thats our song. and theres more broken down parts like the night we ate everything bagels and we created the best inside joke and she took a million pictures of me. and then i go back home and come back in the summer. we pick it up like i never left. and repeat with a different melody. and then i go home. we break up/take a break/whatever for our reasons. there is no lower i’ve ever been than there, and its there i really know i love her. when shes completely gone. when she is the farthest from you in every aspect and you still love her like you’ve always loved her. you see her in everything ten fold. you stay at home for christmas. i moved on and dated sunny, and but shes still in the back of my head. thats not fair but that is how these things go. that is how true love goes. and i call her one night drunk, and then theres this big tangle of mess where i probably shouldn’t of done that, we work things out and decide to be friends, start talking like we used to. come back in summer. try to be content with just being bestfriends, and you are, but god do you love her more than that. and i was there for when she got a sonogram and i saw taden and tyler and it made me cry like this good kind though because you know this is something beautiful. and just more of these broken down parts where she cut my hair, and like when she cuts my hair or cuts it because then i go home with something to remind me of her. and it grows out or gets dyed over but thats okay cause she’ll fix it again soon. and on a completely far off note when i had a lady look at my artwork for the maryland institute college of art, she picked up the one watercolor of elsa i did and she said she loved that one. that i needed to do more like that. and i find it right that she’d think that was my best. cause i painted that one with my love. all my love in one paper. anyway, i go home. i’ve dated and fooled around with a few people, explored what we’re supposed to explore at eighteen. can’t come for winter because its too expensive to only stay for a few days of winter break. and then you’re at right now where i just bought my flight today to go see her this summer. and theres a lot i didn’t tell but thats okay because you get my point. thats its hard to tell you when i realized i loved her, and i can try but nobody really knows. you know know theres all these moments and theyre just stuck like hell in your head and in your heart. and you would never change them for all the money you’d never be given anyway.
I honestly just cried. That made me feel like it’s Sunday, or that someone was actual here, and that they cared about me. And it’s not even about me. It’s about some other girl in some other state and some guy who doesn’t even follow me on tumblr wrote it. But it made me remember that people are fucking beautiful. Forgive my language. This is what people are supposed to be like, real.
186 days. I’m okay. The scratching and tearing you’ve caused inside my brain will always be there. The yelling won’t go away. I’ve counted up the days since I let myself go, the days of missing you, the days that I drew stars and nebula’s all over my body, the days that I didn’t care whether you were living or breathing. To be honest they are all the same. This fresh air around me, with you in it it’s a waste. You made me waste. And now, all the yelling and words you said in my head. They’ll always be there, but I don’t have feeling towards you anymore. I haven’t for the past 150 days. The End.
This Hole.
This hole that eats me.This hole that’s black. This hole I’m stuck in. A lifeless sack. This hole that keeps me. Bound with your chains. This hole I’m meaning to rearrange.
This hole I’ve been inside, my whole entire life.It chills me to the bones, how I have been alone.And now you see, what you have done to me.This hole.
This hole that seeping that dark brown ooze. This hole that seeing all that I lose. You whipser meaning into my ear. A soft sweet saddness I want to hear.
This hole I’ve been inside, my whole entire life.It chills me to the bones, how I have been alone.And now you seem see, what you have done to me.This hole.
This hole’s our family broken and bruised. This hole the ending I want to chose. Far from the memories and bleeding walls. This home is broken, where’s the applause.Unfinished.
I saw them
Those writings from a long while back. The ones I etched in stone and let the vines wrap around them in my heart. My home. That place where things were okay. I used to open my mind and scratch my brain. The violin strings inside being plucked with your long nails. I miss how they tickled. How touching you was something unreal. Clinging to smoke. I’m in the head lights now. Everyone keeps moving fast all around me, but I have your face strapped to my feet pulling me farther and farther away from my sanity. Go now. I’ll be okay. You can stop. I can stop. We can be better.
I remember hearing you laughing as a little girl. All the trips you took across state lines, all the things that made you laugh. The bluegrass songs that you sung along to. I remember, and I saw your face and how happy you were. When Daddy was there for you.
Hearing my mom tell my sister her dad won’t be around made me cry. Seeing her cry, knowing her parents are getting a divorce, left me without words. Seeing my mom cry because my dad fessed up to all the times he slept with all those other women.. made me throw up.
I can’t even look at you.
Sometimes I wish I had enough courage for people to love me. Or that I was interesting, or that people pursued me. I wish I had enough courage to feel something for somebody. People are boring. Goodwill, I need your couches and odd smelling clothes.
I kept sending those letters over and over and over again. About my life, and about how my mother cried that day. Or how the sunset had blue freckles in it, like your eyes. I wrote, and I made the 7 all messy so the mail man could never send them. They came back void. They came back because I knew you wouldn’t ever care. The nights I spent up, asking myself why I was awake. Why I was hunched over the writings that screamed and pained their way out of my mouth. The disgusting bones that jutted from my spine, my skin rolling over as I heaved repeatedly. I sometimes write just so I can cry because it feels so damn good. Run. Running now. I’ll breathe again, and the next day too. The trees will moan for me to come in and the rocks will whisper the secrets of the black river killer. Come to me sweet earth and write me letters, sing me songs, pray for me. Pray for me as if I’m what you’ve been waiting for. Mean it.
It takes 23 days to make something a habit. That’s 520 hours, 31,200 minutes, and 1,872,000 seconds. Come and stay with me, please. Stay for 23 days, so that you can become a habit in my life. Your smile in the morning, those cute crooked teeth, and the freckles that are caught in your eye. Make the days of sun kisses and late night movies a habit. Stay, please.
Go now, turn away. Stop saying hello out of the pity and memories you keep scratching at. You are alone, and so am I. In this disgusting pit we dug. Run, run away. And leave me sucking the worms and root marrow. Leave me to decay in this dark black hole, where you put me first hand. Where you promised to come back later and kiss my open wounds. Lie to yourself one more time and you’ll perish my dear. The raven will sink in your spine and peck into your cornea. Leaving this bad taste in your mouth. Listen to the echos and whispers. Who are you? Who are we? We are here. We are gone. We are this fuck filled abcess of disgrace and vomit. Come speak with me when I can look into your eye and not feel ashamed of my whole entire life.
FEELING..
Like I should post this, just so I don’t lose it. I had to take it off so everything could fit on the side.
My obsessions include but are not limited to; red hair, blogging, lazy sundays, seattle, old buildings, holding hands, learning espanol, photography, music, longboarding in the rain, discovering new bands, cutting my hair, thrifting, writing my book, the bible, jones soda, TOMS, paint brushes, sunlight, insomnia, flickr, hugs, people watching, poetry, coffee shops, piercings, v-necks, blonde hair and blue eyes, flirting, tagging, cafe vita, tall people, bones, crooked teeth, late night calls, pokemon, concerts, Andrew Nichols, natural beauty, literature, 1920’s, surrealism, little moments that make only me smile.
I don’t understand. Why do people try and make me feel stupid? Honestly. I am so irritated, and Sara has already heard my vocalized feelings. No shaking your head at me missy. Can someone give me some sort of solution.. For one, I never intended talking to him. Ever. It hadn’t crossed my mind. And I thought we had both agreed on the not talking to each other? I told you I’d always care, IF you had a problem or wanted to talk. And if you want to talk.. then do it?Secondly, he asks how I am and is then given my number.. to grow some balls and talk to me if he really cared.Third, at four in the morning when I think I’m dreaming, I message him. I STEP UP TO THE PLATE.Fourth he just reads the thing.
Cool. You are so cool. You love making me feel so stupid. Don’t you?Does that give you some sort of satisfaction, do you think I was just dying to get a hold of you? I really wished we would have never met kid. That way we didn’t have to deal with each other.I don’t understand why I put any effort into any people around me.
GTFO.Right now. I’m so done, I don’t even care if you ever reply.asdfghjkl
25 pages of my book are done.Yay.
http://tillthemorninglight.tumblr.com/page/58
Yesterday
I thought I saw you yesterday. But I didn’t stop cause you was walking the opposite way. I guess I could have shouted out your name. But even if it was you I don’t what I would say. We can sit and reminisce about the old school. Maybe share a cigarette because we both fools. Chop it up and compare perspectives. Life. Love. Stress and Set backs. You could tell me how hard you had it. And you could show me all the scares to back it. And we can analyze each complaint Break it down and explain these mistakes I make. I like to tangle up the strings of the puppetry But you knew me back when i was a younger me. You’ve seen Sean in all types of life. And I’ve been meaning to ask you if I’m doing alright. Yesterday, was that you. Looked just like you Strange things my imagination might do. Take a breath reflect on what we’ve been through Or am I just going crazy cause I miss you. I’m Shook. I know. I pushed when I should of pulled. Took it all back if I could I put that on my soul. And I would make a top notch good listener. If you could block off a little time out to give it here. Since we went our separate paths. I hit a couple of snags that remind me of the past I cant front I’m having a blast, but damned if I ain’t afraid of how long its gonna last. Sitting here wishing we could kick it. Gimme your opinions I do miss the criticisms. I didn’t mean to be distant. Make a visit. Ill wait up and keep the coffee brewing in the kitchen. But who am I jokin’ with theres no way that you and I will ever get to re-open it. It doesn’t matter this is more then love And maybe if I’m lucky I’ll see you out the conner of… Yesterday was that you? Looked just like you. Strange things my imagination might do Take a breath reflect on what we’ve been through Or am I just going crazy cause I miss you.. And when you left I didn’t see it coming. I guess I slept it ain’t like you was running. You crept out the front door slow. And I was so self-absorbed I didn’t even know. And by the the time I looked up, it was booked up. You put it all behind you, the bad and the good stuff. A whole house full of dreams and steps I think you’d be impressed with the pieces I kept. You disappeared but the history is still here thats why I try not to cry over split beer. I can’t eve get mad that your gone leaving me probably the best thing you ever taught me. i’m sorry, its official. I was a fistful. I didn’t keep it simple. Chip on the shoulder, anger in my veins. Had so much hatred, now it brings me to shame. Never thought about the world with out you, And I promise, I’ll never say another bad word about you. I thought I saw you yesterday, But I know it wasn’t you, cause you passed away dad. Looked just like you. Strange things my imagination might do. Take a breath reflect on what we’ve been through. Or am I just going crazy cause I miss you.
Black and Blue
They say that eyes contribute towards 85% of your total knowledge. I guess that explains why I loved you so much. I saw something and I fell in love with the image of you. It’s why it was so easy to open my eyes and see something good as I fell of the surface of my feelings.
Every single cell in our body is replaced every seven years. And by my calculations that means by october 2015 the person I will be will have never even touched you.
Distance has widened and new things have grown in place. Nothing is really forgotten but at this point it’s fluid. It’s taken me this long to encourage myself to stop wishing for a return or a sincere apology, to let you go and hold the hand that’s here.
Most heart attacks occur between the hours of 8 and 9 AM. I remember that morning, the one after that is. Where I was laying in bed and the first breath I took of the new morning was at 8:03 to be exact, it hurt so bad and my heart started to spasm and leap. It was trying so hard to get away. The headlights were on it and everyone was watching, the whole world laughing. I started the joke. At one time it was thought that the heart controlled the human emotions, that’s what they say. They also say during a typical human life span, the human heart will beat approximately 2.5 billion times. Not this heart, it beat once. Stop. Now try this again.
well i’ve known since forever that she felt right, different than before, not that my before was that much of anything to compare with anything, but different in this way since the beginning that i felt something in me, like those fastforwarded videos of flowers blooming. and i knew it was something when we promised we’d make this happen, that one day we’d see each other that that was the plan. between all these letters all these promises that she thought of me like i thought of her. i knew it was something when i got on my first plane ever and experianced the most nervous, exciting moment in my life. and when i saw her the first time. easily the happiest day of my life. she came from behind and turned me around and hugged me, held me the tightest i’ve ever been held, and she kept saying you’re real and we compared shaking hands. when we sat in her car in the driveway waiting for hey there delilah to play, because that was one of our songs. when we watched the office and i told her shes beautiful and she cried. when we had our first kiss on the fourth of july under fireworks as we sat in riverfront park on a sesame street sheet. when she came home from work and i jumped on her and kissed her cheek. and how she’d leave me messages with her computer desktop for me to wake up to when she had to work. laying beside her in bed telling her everynight that i love her and kissing her on the cheek. when i’d hold her hand on the gear shift. and all these little things i could name you just about a million i bet. they get all broken down like that; all detailed. and but when i had to leave and we stayed up late that night prior trying to fight it, and she said i’d be back. and i knew it but it still hurt like its supposed to. and she wrote me a quick letter on that map of spokane while we waited and she put it in my bookbag and told me not to read it until i’m up there. and when i read it i just cried some more and all i could do was stare out that window and miss her like hell. and i knew when i was home when i was missing her more than i’d ever miss anyone ever. but i came back in winter, and it just feels like you never left. you kinda realize it there a lot, when it feels like you never left. we exchanged christmas gifts and she gave me watercolors, and other things, but watercolors, well i use them a lot and its the best gift i think i’ve gotten ever. i think about her everytime i paint. i love that a lot. i gave her our promise rings, mine says “born to tell you” and hers says “i love you” cause thats our song. and theres more broken down parts like the night we ate everything bagels and we created the best inside joke and she took a million pictures of me. and then i go back home and come back in the summer. we pick it up like i never left. and repeat with a different melody. and then i go home. we break up/take a break/whatever for our reasons. there is no lower i’ve ever been than there, and its there i really know i love her. when shes completely gone. when she is the farthest from you in every aspect and you still love her like you’ve always loved her. you see her in everything ten fold. you stay at home for christmas. i moved on and dated sunny, and but shes still in the back of my head. thats not fair but that is how these things go. that is how true love goes. and i call her one night drunk, and then theres this big tangle of mess where i probably shouldn’t of done that, we work things out and decide to be friends, start talking like we used to. come back in summer. try to be content with just being bestfriends, and you are, but god do you love her more than that. and i was there for when she got a sonogram and i saw taden and tyler and it made me cry like this good kind though because you know this is something beautiful. and just more of these broken down parts where she cut my hair, and like when she cuts my hair or cuts it because then i go home with something to remind me of her. and it grows out or gets dyed over but thats okay cause she’ll fix it again soon. and on a completely far off note when i had a lady look at my artwork for the maryland institute college of art, she picked up the one watercolor of elsa i did and she said she loved that one. that i needed to do more like that. and i find it right that she’d think that was my best. cause i painted that one with my love. all my love in one paper. anyway, i go home. i’ve dated and fooled around with a few people, explored what we’re supposed to explore at eighteen. can’t come for winter because its too expensive to only stay for a few days of winter break. and then you’re at right now where i just bought my flight today to go see her this summer. and theres a lot i didn’t tell but thats okay because you get my point. thats its hard to tell you when i realized i loved her, and i can try but nobody really knows. you know know theres all these moments and theyre just stuck like hell in your head and in your heart. and you would never change them for all the money you’d never be given anyway.
I honestly just cried. That made me feel like it’s Sunday, or that someone was actual here, and that they cared about me. And it’s not even about me. It’s about some other girl in some other state and some guy who doesn’t even follow me on tumblr wrote it. But it made me remember that people are fucking beautiful. Forgive my language. This is what people are supposed to be like, real.
186 days. I’m okay. The scratching and tearing you’ve caused inside my brain will always be there. The yelling won’t go away. I’ve counted up the days since I let myself go, the days of missing you, the days that I drew stars and nebula’s all over my body, the days that I didn’t care whether you were living or breathing. To be honest they are all the same. This fresh air around me, with you in it it’s a waste. You made me waste. And now, all the yelling and words you said in my head. They’ll always be there, but I don’t have feeling towards you anymore. I haven’t for the past 150 days. The End.
This Hole.
This hole that eats me.This hole that’s black. This hole I’m stuck in. A lifeless sack. This hole that keeps me. Bound with your chains. This hole I’m meaning to rearrange.
This hole I’ve been inside, my whole entire life.It chills me to the bones, how I have been alone.And now you see, what you have done to me.This hole.
This hole that seeping that dark brown ooze. This hole that seeing all that I lose. You whipser meaning into my ear. A soft sweet saddness I want to hear.
This hole I’ve been inside, my whole entire life.It chills me to the bones, how I have been alone.And now you seem see, what you have done to me.This hole.
This hole’s our family broken and bruised. This hole the ending I want to chose. Far from the memories and bleeding walls. This home is broken, where’s the applause.Unfinished.
I saw them
Those writings from a long while back. The ones I etched in stone and let the vines wrap around them in my heart. My home. That place where things were okay. I used to open my mind and scratch my brain. The violin strings inside being plucked with your long nails. I miss how they tickled. How touching you was something unreal. Clinging to smoke. I’m in the head lights now. Everyone keeps moving fast all around me, but I have your face strapped to my feet pulling me farther and farther away from my sanity. Go now. I’ll be okay. You can stop. I can stop. We can be better.
I remember hearing you laughing as a little girl. All the trips you took across state lines, all the things that made you laugh. The bluegrass songs that you sung along to. I remember, and I saw your face and how happy you were. When Daddy was there for you.
Hearing my mom tell my sister her dad won’t be around made me cry. Seeing her cry, knowing her parents are getting a divorce, left me without words. Seeing my mom cry because my dad fessed up to all the times he slept with all those other women.. made me throw up.
I can’t even look at you.
Sometimes I wish I had enough courage for people to love me. Or that I was interesting, or that people pursued me. I wish I had enough courage to feel something for somebody. People are boring. Goodwill, I need your couches and odd smelling clothes.
I kept sending those letters over and over and over again. About my life, and about how my mother cried that day. Or how the sunset had blue freckles in it, like your eyes. I wrote, and I made the 7 all messy so the mail man could never send them. They came back void. They came back because I knew you wouldn’t ever care. The nights I spent up, asking myself why I was awake. Why I was hunched over the writings that screamed and pained their way out of my mouth. The disgusting bones that jutted from my spine, my skin rolling over as I heaved repeatedly. I sometimes write just so I can cry because it feels so damn good. Run. Running now. I’ll breathe again, and the next day too. The trees will moan for me to come in and the rocks will whisper the secrets of the black river killer. Come to me sweet earth and write me letters, sing me songs, pray for me. Pray for me as if I’m what you’ve been waiting for. Mean it.
It takes 23 days to make something a habit. That’s 520 hours, 31,200 minutes, and 1,872,000 seconds. Come and stay with me, please. Stay for 23 days, so that you can become a habit in my life. Your smile in the morning, those cute crooked teeth, and the freckles that are caught in your eye. Make the days of sun kisses and late night movies a habit. Stay, please.
Go now, turn away. Stop saying hello out of the pity and memories you keep scratching at. You are alone, and so am I. In this disgusting pit we dug. Run, run away. And leave me sucking the worms and root marrow. Leave me to decay in this dark black hole, where you put me first hand. Where you promised to come back later and kiss my open wounds. Lie to yourself one more time and you’ll perish my dear. The raven will sink in your spine and peck into your cornea. Leaving this bad taste in your mouth. Listen to the echos and whispers. Who are you? Who are we? We are here. We are gone. We are this fuck filled abcess of disgrace and vomit. Come speak with me when I can look into your eye and not feel ashamed of my whole entire life.
FEELING..
Like I should post this, just so I don’t lose it. I had to take it off so everything could fit on the side.
My obsessions include but are not limited to; red hair, blogging, lazy sundays, seattle, old buildings, holding hands, learning espanol, photography, music, longboarding in the rain, discovering new bands, cutting my hair, thrifting, writing my book, the bible, jones soda, TOMS, paint brushes, sunlight, insomnia, flickr, hugs, people watching, poetry, coffee shops, piercings, v-necks, blonde hair and blue eyes, flirting, tagging, cafe vita, tall people, bones, crooked teeth, late night calls, pokemon, concerts, Andrew Nichols, natural beauty, literature, 1920’s, surrealism, little moments that make only me smile.
I don’t understand. Why do people try and make me feel stupid? Honestly. I am so irritated, and Sara has already heard my vocalized feelings. No shaking your head at me missy. Can someone give me some sort of solution.. For one, I never intended talking to him. Ever. It hadn’t crossed my mind. And I thought we had both agreed on the not talking to each other? I told you I’d always care, IF you had a problem or wanted to talk. And if you want to talk.. then do it?Secondly, he asks how I am and is then given my number.. to grow some balls and talk to me if he really cared.Third, at four in the morning when I think I’m dreaming, I message him. I STEP UP TO THE PLATE.Fourth he just reads the thing.
Cool. You are so cool. You love making me feel so stupid. Don’t you?Does that give you some sort of satisfaction, do you think I was just dying to get a hold of you? I really wished we would have never met kid. That way we didn’t have to deal with each other.I don’t understand why I put any effort into any people around me.
GTFO.Right now. I’m so done, I don’t even care if you ever reply.asdfghjkl
25 pages of my book are done.Yay.
http://tillthemorninglight.tumblr.com/page/58
Cutest thing on planet earth.
Letter 236
Letter 236
Dear River,
Today, hurts. It hurts like I just stubbed my toe. Like I stubbed it and my toe was cold. That feeling that makes you gag on your spit. The one where you say over and over again in your head ‘Holy shit this hurts!’ but saying it out loud would be offensive to others. Offensive to the old lady next door, to my mother, and my ten year old sister. But as I seem to have said before, it hurt today. And that feeling in my toe, I felt that in my heart. My body was a whole toe if you think about it. It was aching like your big fat toe would. I was cold too, before I stubbed it, my heart that is. Putting it simply, my supporitng organ did feel, and it felt as if I was on my way to someone’s house. As I stroll up to the door I see a note, I miss them, and it is telling me not to come back, not to call, not to waste anymore time, because they won’t be there. I was supposed to be the fighter for my mother, use her heart to be the warrior she was. The patriot, the late night cough syrup savior, my shoulder, last to go to sleep and first to wake up. My mind was required to fall in rhythm with her heart’s beat, to pump with every mighty note that it sang to me.
Atelophobia was what I had. Yeah, google that. I was so extremely afraid of being everything that she wasn’t. And that’s what I was. Some teenage adolesent who wanted to become a figure, a make believe character she saw in her head. A memory. Her dead mother. From three a.m. that morning till now I had sat, in the couch. In the same position, hurting. Wind was visible, did you know? While lounging away drenched in insomnia, I saw the wind blowing life around outside. The trees had sand pushed into their pores, bleeding their sap of life. Minor things that should be visible through a microscope but were made up in my head for now. Bugs, hanging on with every little leg they had. And the ocean, God, the ocean. Fear of being perfect, is that a phobia? The ocean was so incredibly perfect it felt unreal. How every wave collapsed into each other. Taking new sand particles away, a footprint, a laugh, that kiss at sunset. All of it, washed away with the waves to be shared with the crustatians under the sea. At night, that was a different story. The moon made it look glassy. As if in a globe, full of stars and fairy dust. The way it hummed outside, the sound crashing against the stained glass windows put me in a trance. Made the feeling of being numb less satisfying. On a sunday afternoon being numb wasn’t as bad. Sunday morning always hurt. They always seemed to be the worst day of the week. Being in the dark on a sunday was disgusting. All the world was asleep, except for the few who couldn’t shut their eyes. Who could not deam themselves any rest. At that time I wanted someone to admire, and by that early into the night it has seemed to slip to monday morning. And my sunday walked out the back door already. Being in the dark was something I hated, something I could only be upset over. Being ninteen and still having a night light wasn’t embarassing. Darkness was unknown to me. I had no control over what was happening in the dark, the sense of being lost within my self scared me. It frightened me to realize how alone I was. The dark made me realize it.
Last night, I get home late. Something I ate causes me to throw up, and I don’t get to bed till two in the morning. Hah I should probably mention the other morning. Well two days ago I wake up at seven thinking that it’s six and I’m late, so I rush and rush and rush to get ready and I’m running down the street to catch my bus, and no one is at the bus stop.. then I realize that I’m an hour behind. So then I just fall to the ground and wanting to just stab myself in the forehead.
Then today, I didn’t go to sleep till two. And I wake up at seven, when I am supposed to leave. I run to the door and the girl who takes me to school is basically walking away like “Screw you Mariah” I am trying to say sorry, and I mean what am I supposed to say. So her dad is yelling at her in the car, and I feel worthless.
So I break down crying. Because I am feeling lower then dirt and nothing is going right today, or this week, or in my life. I can’t even write parts of my book I’m so stressed out. I have a huge history test today, english paper due, make up work to get done after school, and I think a test in Bio.
Honestly, I hate high school so much.
I can’t wait to leave next year.
I Killed You.
Running, through the house. The portch is wet, I’m slipping down the back steps. Muffling every motion I’m making. Into the grass, It’s in between my toes. Now in the woods, with the animals, with the darkness. It’s here I make my escape, no shoes, and the cold is beginning to sink into my skin. Filling my marrow with a empty feeling. The feeling that I strive for, the one that makes me feel home. It’s here that I’m thinking of you. Where only the moon is judging my relapses. My pitiful efforts to keep coming back. To not cut the thread completely. I close my eyes, and I remember. Almost as if it’s happening here again. How my hands were so freshly red. Stained with our love. The girl who could never kill but wanted to commit the crime so effortlessly. The motionless one, sleepless one. Because I lay in bed in the night, going over every detail of how things could have gone. The pas tense becomes the present tense. And probability becomes reality. I want to run, like the deer in the meadow, alert and constantly on guard. Feeling the summer air in all the hairs on my body, innocent, like the fawn. But I couldn’t possibly for when I killed you, I killed me too.
I hear you laughing
It felt as I was running. On the clouds, dreaming. The only downfall to you was that dreams fall through the clouds and disappear. I was so close to something that I thought was real. Your image was what I sought out to change. In no way am I ashamed of this monster that has set in, it’s actually beautiful in the light. When it smiles. But you were ashamed, sad to keep me. Afraid to bear me to anyone other then yourself. Unable to fight for this thing that you ‘loved’ so much. I’m fighting to find the meaning for the word now. It’s hurting me more then life. Knowing I loved an object so much, committing a sick sense of idolatry in a sense unfathomable. Not once did I want anyone else, ever. Pushing them all away. Giving myself up, expecting things when I shouldn’t have expected anything. I never knew I could hate someone so much, and mean it.
I got a Polaroid camera yesterday, and I want to take a picture of something happy. Then I can put it on my wall and know my life means a little more then nothing.
I’m glad I didn’t die before I met you
We travel through our lives expecting it to be wonderful and amazing, like in the movies. We want all the days that we spend breathing to conclude with a happy ending. Smoke the weed, bang the lover, and forget about all your mistakes. Why is it that we suddenly we have no one to own up to? At the end of the day, whether we are blazed or sober, ‘got some’ or sat alone at home, acted like a stupid reckless teenager or acted like yourself. I understand now who’s going to be happy, all the rules we choose to live by. Whether it is being guarded because all the bruises, or being loose due to lack of feeling, or maybe if it comes down to cursing God or choosing to accept his love. We are all so very different, pushed ans swayed into a lifestyle because of media and society. Looking at the stars and hearing you laughing, I understand. You live with no purpose, and by the time night rolls around I’m not the one hating myself anymore. Wear the mask, live it up, and die knowing that you lived your life posing as happy.
Heaps of Lies
You speak about travles you have never taken, books you have never laid your eyes upon layering lie upon lie for people to love you. If you would only see they loved you all along because you used to speak truth.
Loose Lips
I am a speck of dusk inside a giants eye. Take the road where the eagle flies. Where you see me dance in the wolf’s skin and scream to the stars, my rabbit heart stopped in the head lights. My soul is naked. Staring, I can hear you laughing now. Let me go, you hold my hand but you don’t mean it. Your kissing me but getting high on the thought of her. After you went to bed with her, touching her hip bones and whispering meaning into her ears I was running around the neighborhood, screaming. Screaming into infinity. Into what I thought was myself. I’m in the wolf’s skin, under the moon digging in the dirt. Digging in my skin. The rich earth is my beginning, my end. The flies and maggots eating the hole in my head. Lay still. Don’t breathe, I’ll be back. So I wait, the vines consuming my cornea’s and eventually I’m resurfacing on the right side of my mind where things become sane.
Irritations
You know what really irritates me? More then anything in this world?! When people bring up the past, when they talk about things that should just be left behind because all those things that were said and meant, never ever really were the truth. Kid, I hope one day you read all this shit and realize I don’t care about you. And to be really honest I never actually cared. I had this big ol idea in my head of you and it wasn’t actually you, I just put your face on the thought. I never wanted to date you, I wanted you to care, and that was obviously way to hard. Seriously, I ended things. Yes, it hurt. But at the moment I could care less if you are breathing or not. I don’t think about you. The feeling itself feeds my writing and other thoughts, but not you. I deserve better and I can’t even begin to explain why I put up with your lies and the piece of shit person you are for a year. Get over yourself.
Dumbass.
Had to get that out (: All better.
142 days after
“Since you left, last Wednesday at 15:34, I’ve been thinking. (Here you would have said something along the lines of ‘Does it hurt?’).
You not being around has got me thinking about all the other people who aren’t around, or have been gone and come back. I can’t help but wonder if you are permanently gone, like my grandfather, or only temporarily gone, like my father.
Will you come back to collect your things? I took the liberty of washing and ironing all your dirty washing. Maybe you’ll just leave them here, as a sort of souvenir. Thanks I guess.
My limbs are aching because you aren’t here. Well, that and lying in bed all week. But I’m only lying here because I can’t function without you. I’ve never missed someone before.”
Oh my dear.. I felt this only six months ago.
Everything I am, I was, all that I want to be. Is here in my bones and under the marrow. I’m sucking the root juice and loosing myself within what I believe they call sanity. Tomorrow is a new day and I hope to wake up be refreshed. But I can’t, and I won’t. The sun will embed in my flesh and my toes will regain feeling. As for now - as I think of something sane and good - I’ll lay and rot. Until I am sunken into the ground, becoming matter of the earth. Sons will play football on me, and a man in love will kneel and propose here. The humans will decide this patch has no use they will recycle me and I will end up being the paper you write love notes on, and letters you send in the mail.. to her.
I’m an animal
In the dirt. The tree. Your eye. The sun is on my skin now, lulling me into it’s slumber. Weeping willow won’t you sing for me louder. My skin is beginning to change, into feathers. The feathers of the great eagle. Great eagle who taught me my ways. The willow bleeds from my escape, and I’m free.
I Wrote A Song About You Today
I wrote a song about you today
About how you left us all with nothing else to grab on to.
About how you abandoned all of your morals as much as we who all loved you so much begged for you to stay true.
I prayed for you to second guess yourself & think back to when we first become close so that way you’d only have us.
I guess everything happens for a reason… but half of everthing doesn’t end like the story book that mom used to read us…
Oh my god. This is fantastic.
Why are we still awake?
About the post that I just posted. You do stop thinking about it I promise. Some days you’ll sit and think about all the lies they told you, and all the things you thought that you meant. At least you felt something and someone meant a little bit to you. All these people who post sad things about never forgetting and never forgiving. About how people hurt you and how you don’t want to let them go. Let them go. Forgive yourself. Forgive them. It’s over now and the pain is gone. I wasted a lot of my time worrying about if they were worrying, and one day I came to the realization that in the end, everyone is alone and we only really have ourselves. Don’t be afraid to be happy and content with just yourselves. He doesn’t think about you, he doesn’t think about what your doing or where you are at. He doesn’t think about what he would do if he ever saw your face again or what he would say to you. Because his life moved on the day after it happened. And inside you did to. Don’t waste your time being upset. Keep the memories, don’t regret them. Your whole life all you will do is think about what could have been said and what could have been done. Replaying the lies over and over, but really.. the past has happened and you are free.
"Now you’re here and everything we touch explodes, bursts into bloom or burns to ash. History atomizes and negates itself with our every shared breath. I need you like life needs life. I want you bad like a natural disaster. You are all I see. You are the only one I want to know."
- Henry Rollins
Well I thought I might let you know how much I love you kiddo and you are seriously my best friend. I am making you your own post, so you should feel special. I will never lie to you, and I will always tell you the truth to your face. I’m gonna be here for as long as you want me to be, and I won’t ever back out on you girl. You are my sister and I couldn’t ever ask for a better person. You help me when I’m weak and need my ass kicked. You listen to me banter on and on about stupid things. You put up with my weirdness and you are just as equally weird. We laugh at jet stream peeing and even if were just sitting on myspace we always have fun (: I really love you a lot and I couldn’t ask for a better friend then you.
Cheeseball moment. True Story.
I just needed to see you one last time.
“Shortly after shutting my eyes, my mind leapt deep into my memories. Searching out the details of your face. Sniffing the ground, on all fours, laying where you stood. Sinking into the dirt and rocks. So far into earth’s skin that I was yoked into the satisfaction of the thoughts. Here in my mind I made up things. You ask me why I’m here, spitting in my face. I tell you “I just needed to see you.. one last time. To make sure that you were real” You laugh and tell me nothing is real. And I wake up alone. And barely awake. But I can’t wait to see the look on your face when I fuck you up.”
236 Days of Forgetting
I sit sometimes and count the days. I sat so many days with words filling my head and no form of expression. No release from real life. My bones ache everyday and my head hurts. There’s a bruise on my brain you see. And I’m screwed up. There are these dreams I have where I try and forget. When I reach 236 I’m pretty sure I’ll be okay. But I go to sleep early and wake up late because I want the day to be done and over. For it to be tomorrow and then it’s just another day added. Yesterday, I went exploring. I found an old television and I took a hammer to it. It popped and groaned. Once, maybe a long time ago, it probably worked. Now though, the rain had changed it’s course of working and entertaining. Spiders lived in the sockets and wires. People are a lot like that.. there is a point in our lives when we just want to stop working and putting on a show. It’s been 167 days. And it seems the forgetting part has turned into a forgotten.
This is probably the shittiest writing I have ever done. Whatever.
I see into you.
It’s midnight, which isn’t late. The insomnia is just beginning and I feel as if I have nothing to write. It seems like all the raw emotion has been drained out of me. I have said all I need to say and yet I don’t feel satisfied. I need another tragedy to happen. Please. This god awful pain of being at a loss for words right now is making me sick. Bring me all of your love. I am a selfish being, and I want it all. The hole inside of me has yet begun to grow once again. And I need something to fill it. Anything at this point. No attachments, just someone, here. Some days I wish a boy would write me poems again and appreciate my brain.
That’s a lot to ask though.
I feel like crying.
Today is just.. one of those days. It’s slow and cold and rainy. And I’m laying in the floor listening to the same song over and over again. I want to make music, and play the piano and play it for someone. I just don’t know how. No one is willing to listen. I really hate it when people stick their heads in my life and my feelings, they lurk my tumblr or my flickr. And they make awkward random comments at school, I don’t mind so much sharing it with people I don’t know, but I feel like it’s some big secret.. people see how I feel and look at me like I’m some freak >.< I don’t know anymore. I wish I had a home to go to. With all the yelling and screaming it doesn’t feel like anything good and honest here. I haven’t been able to write anything decent for days. Spring Break has been good. I can’t wait to leave to Seattle tomorrow.
http://tillthemorninglight.tumblr.com/page/82
Letter 236
Dear River,
Today, hurts. It hurts like I just stubbed my toe. Like I stubbed it and my toe was cold. That feeling that makes you gag on your spit. The one where you say over and over again in your head ‘Holy shit this hurts!’ but saying it out loud would be offensive to others. Offensive to the old lady next door, to my mother, and my ten year old sister. But as I seem to have said before, it hurt today. And that feeling in my toe, I felt that in my heart. My body was a whole toe if you think about it. It was aching like your big fat toe would. I was cold too, before I stubbed it, my heart that is. Putting it simply, my supporitng organ did feel, and it felt as if I was on my way to someone’s house. As I stroll up to the door I see a note, I miss them, and it is telling me not to come back, not to call, not to waste anymore time, because they won’t be there. I was supposed to be the fighter for my mother, use her heart to be the warrior she was. The patriot, the late night cough syrup savior, my shoulder, last to go to sleep and first to wake up. My mind was required to fall in rhythm with her heart’s beat, to pump with every mighty note that it sang to me.
Atelophobia was what I had. Yeah, google that. I was so extremely afraid of being everything that she wasn’t. And that’s what I was. Some teenage adolesent who wanted to become a figure, a make believe character she saw in her head. A memory. Her dead mother. From three a.m. that morning till now I had sat, in the couch. In the same position, hurting. Wind was visible, did you know? While lounging away drenched in insomnia, I saw the wind blowing life around outside. The trees had sand pushed into their pores, bleeding their sap of life. Minor things that should be visible through a microscope but were made up in my head for now. Bugs, hanging on with every little leg they had. And the ocean, God, the ocean. Fear of being perfect, is that a phobia? The ocean was so incredibly perfect it felt unreal. How every wave collapsed into each other. Taking new sand particles away, a footprint, a laugh, that kiss at sunset. All of it, washed away with the waves to be shared with the crustatians under the sea. At night, that was a different story. The moon made it look glassy. As if in a globe, full of stars and fairy dust. The way it hummed outside, the sound crashing against the stained glass windows put me in a trance. Made the feeling of being numb less satisfying. On a sunday afternoon being numb wasn’t as bad. Sunday morning always hurt. They always seemed to be the worst day of the week. Being in the dark on a sunday was disgusting. All the world was asleep, except for the few who couldn’t shut their eyes. Who could not deam themselves any rest. At that time I wanted someone to admire, and by that early into the night it has seemed to slip to monday morning. And my sunday walked out the back door already. Being in the dark was something I hated, something I could only be upset over. Being ninteen and still having a night light wasn’t embarassing. Darkness was unknown to me. I had no control over what was happening in the dark, the sense of being lost within my self scared me. It frightened me to realize how alone I was. The dark made me realize it.
Last night, I get home late. Something I ate causes me to throw up, and I don’t get to bed till two in the morning. Hah I should probably mention the other morning. Well two days ago I wake up at seven thinking that it’s six and I’m late, so I rush and rush and rush to get ready and I’m running down the street to catch my bus, and no one is at the bus stop.. then I realize that I’m an hour behind. So then I just fall to the ground and wanting to just stab myself in the forehead.
Then today, I didn’t go to sleep till two. And I wake up at seven, when I am supposed to leave. I run to the door and the girl who takes me to school is basically walking away like “Screw you Mariah” I am trying to say sorry, and I mean what am I supposed to say. So her dad is yelling at her in the car, and I feel worthless.
So I break down crying. Because I am feeling lower then dirt and nothing is going right today, or this week, or in my life. I can’t even write parts of my book I’m so stressed out. I have a huge history test today, english paper due, make up work to get done after school, and I think a test in Bio.
Honestly, I hate high school so much.
I can’t wait to leave next year.
I Killed You.
Running, through the house. The portch is wet, I’m slipping down the back steps. Muffling every motion I’m making. Into the grass, It’s in between my toes. Now in the woods, with the animals, with the darkness. It’s here I make my escape, no shoes, and the cold is beginning to sink into my skin. Filling my marrow with a empty feeling. The feeling that I strive for, the one that makes me feel home. It’s here that I’m thinking of you. Where only the moon is judging my relapses. My pitiful efforts to keep coming back. To not cut the thread completely. I close my eyes, and I remember. Almost as if it’s happening here again. How my hands were so freshly red. Stained with our love. The girl who could never kill but wanted to commit the crime so effortlessly. The motionless one, sleepless one. Because I lay in bed in the night, going over every detail of how things could have gone. The pas tense becomes the present tense. And probability becomes reality. I want to run, like the deer in the meadow, alert and constantly on guard. Feeling the summer air in all the hairs on my body, innocent, like the fawn. But I couldn’t possibly for when I killed you, I killed me too.
I hear you laughing
It felt as I was running. On the clouds, dreaming. The only downfall to you was that dreams fall through the clouds and disappear. I was so close to something that I thought was real. Your image was what I sought out to change. In no way am I ashamed of this monster that has set in, it’s actually beautiful in the light. When it smiles. But you were ashamed, sad to keep me. Afraid to bear me to anyone other then yourself. Unable to fight for this thing that you ‘loved’ so much. I’m fighting to find the meaning for the word now. It’s hurting me more then life. Knowing I loved an object so much, committing a sick sense of idolatry in a sense unfathomable. Not once did I want anyone else, ever. Pushing them all away. Giving myself up, expecting things when I shouldn’t have expected anything. I never knew I could hate someone so much, and mean it.
I got a Polaroid camera yesterday, and I want to take a picture of something happy. Then I can put it on my wall and know my life means a little more then nothing.
I’m glad I didn’t die before I met you
We travel through our lives expecting it to be wonderful and amazing, like in the movies. We want all the days that we spend breathing to conclude with a happy ending. Smoke the weed, bang the lover, and forget about all your mistakes. Why is it that we suddenly we have no one to own up to? At the end of the day, whether we are blazed or sober, ‘got some’ or sat alone at home, acted like a stupid reckless teenager or acted like yourself. I understand now who’s going to be happy, all the rules we choose to live by. Whether it is being guarded because all the bruises, or being loose due to lack of feeling, or maybe if it comes down to cursing God or choosing to accept his love. We are all so very different, pushed ans swayed into a lifestyle because of media and society. Looking at the stars and hearing you laughing, I understand. You live with no purpose, and by the time night rolls around I’m not the one hating myself anymore. Wear the mask, live it up, and die knowing that you lived your life posing as happy.
Heaps of Lies
You speak about travles you have never taken, books you have never laid your eyes upon layering lie upon lie for people to love you. If you would only see they loved you all along because you used to speak truth.
Loose Lips
I am a speck of dusk inside a giants eye. Take the road where the eagle flies. Where you see me dance in the wolf’s skin and scream to the stars, my rabbit heart stopped in the head lights. My soul is naked. Staring, I can hear you laughing now. Let me go, you hold my hand but you don’t mean it. Your kissing me but getting high on the thought of her. After you went to bed with her, touching her hip bones and whispering meaning into her ears I was running around the neighborhood, screaming. Screaming into infinity. Into what I thought was myself. I’m in the wolf’s skin, under the moon digging in the dirt. Digging in my skin. The rich earth is my beginning, my end. The flies and maggots eating the hole in my head. Lay still. Don’t breathe, I’ll be back. So I wait, the vines consuming my cornea’s and eventually I’m resurfacing on the right side of my mind where things become sane.
Irritations
You know what really irritates me? More then anything in this world?! When people bring up the past, when they talk about things that should just be left behind because all those things that were said and meant, never ever really were the truth. Kid, I hope one day you read all this shit and realize I don’t care about you. And to be really honest I never actually cared. I had this big ol idea in my head of you and it wasn’t actually you, I just put your face on the thought. I never wanted to date you, I wanted you to care, and that was obviously way to hard. Seriously, I ended things. Yes, it hurt. But at the moment I could care less if you are breathing or not. I don’t think about you. The feeling itself feeds my writing and other thoughts, but not you. I deserve better and I can’t even begin to explain why I put up with your lies and the piece of shit person you are for a year. Get over yourself.
Dumbass.
Had to get that out (: All better.
142 days after
“Since you left, last Wednesday at 15:34, I’ve been thinking. (Here you would have said something along the lines of ‘Does it hurt?’).
You not being around has got me thinking about all the other people who aren’t around, or have been gone and come back. I can’t help but wonder if you are permanently gone, like my grandfather, or only temporarily gone, like my father.
Will you come back to collect your things? I took the liberty of washing and ironing all your dirty washing. Maybe you’ll just leave them here, as a sort of souvenir. Thanks I guess.
My limbs are aching because you aren’t here. Well, that and lying in bed all week. But I’m only lying here because I can’t function without you. I’ve never missed someone before.”
Oh my dear.. I felt this only six months ago.
Everything I am, I was, all that I want to be. Is here in my bones and under the marrow. I’m sucking the root juice and loosing myself within what I believe they call sanity. Tomorrow is a new day and I hope to wake up be refreshed. But I can’t, and I won’t. The sun will embed in my flesh and my toes will regain feeling. As for now - as I think of something sane and good - I’ll lay and rot. Until I am sunken into the ground, becoming matter of the earth. Sons will play football on me, and a man in love will kneel and propose here. The humans will decide this patch has no use they will recycle me and I will end up being the paper you write love notes on, and letters you send in the mail.. to her.
I’m an animal
In the dirt. The tree. Your eye. The sun is on my skin now, lulling me into it’s slumber. Weeping willow won’t you sing for me louder. My skin is beginning to change, into feathers. The feathers of the great eagle. Great eagle who taught me my ways. The willow bleeds from my escape, and I’m free.
I Wrote A Song About You Today
I wrote a song about you today
About how you left us all with nothing else to grab on to.
About how you abandoned all of your morals as much as we who all loved you so much begged for you to stay true.
I prayed for you to second guess yourself & think back to when we first become close so that way you’d only have us.
I guess everything happens for a reason… but half of everthing doesn’t end like the story book that mom used to read us…
Oh my god. This is fantastic.
Why are we still awake?
About the post that I just posted. You do stop thinking about it I promise. Some days you’ll sit and think about all the lies they told you, and all the things you thought that you meant. At least you felt something and someone meant a little bit to you. All these people who post sad things about never forgetting and never forgiving. About how people hurt you and how you don’t want to let them go. Let them go. Forgive yourself. Forgive them. It’s over now and the pain is gone. I wasted a lot of my time worrying about if they were worrying, and one day I came to the realization that in the end, everyone is alone and we only really have ourselves. Don’t be afraid to be happy and content with just yourselves. He doesn’t think about you, he doesn’t think about what your doing or where you are at. He doesn’t think about what he would do if he ever saw your face again or what he would say to you. Because his life moved on the day after it happened. And inside you did to. Don’t waste your time being upset. Keep the memories, don’t regret them. Your whole life all you will do is think about what could have been said and what could have been done. Replaying the lies over and over, but really.. the past has happened and you are free.
"Now you’re here and everything we touch explodes, bursts into bloom or burns to ash. History atomizes and negates itself with our every shared breath. I need you like life needs life. I want you bad like a natural disaster. You are all I see. You are the only one I want to know."
- Henry Rollins
Well I thought I might let you know how much I love you kiddo and you are seriously my best friend. I am making you your own post, so you should feel special. I will never lie to you, and I will always tell you the truth to your face. I’m gonna be here for as long as you want me to be, and I won’t ever back out on you girl. You are my sister and I couldn’t ever ask for a better person. You help me when I’m weak and need my ass kicked. You listen to me banter on and on about stupid things. You put up with my weirdness and you are just as equally weird. We laugh at jet stream peeing and even if were just sitting on myspace we always have fun (: I really love you a lot and I couldn’t ask for a better friend then you.
Cheeseball moment. True Story.
I just needed to see you one last time.
“Shortly after shutting my eyes, my mind leapt deep into my memories. Searching out the details of your face. Sniffing the ground, on all fours, laying where you stood. Sinking into the dirt and rocks. So far into earth’s skin that I was yoked into the satisfaction of the thoughts. Here in my mind I made up things. You ask me why I’m here, spitting in my face. I tell you “I just needed to see you.. one last time. To make sure that you were real” You laugh and tell me nothing is real. And I wake up alone. And barely awake. But I can’t wait to see the look on your face when I fuck you up.”
236 Days of Forgetting
I sit sometimes and count the days. I sat so many days with words filling my head and no form of expression. No release from real life. My bones ache everyday and my head hurts. There’s a bruise on my brain you see. And I’m screwed up. There are these dreams I have where I try and forget. When I reach 236 I’m pretty sure I’ll be okay. But I go to sleep early and wake up late because I want the day to be done and over. For it to be tomorrow and then it’s just another day added. Yesterday, I went exploring. I found an old television and I took a hammer to it. It popped and groaned. Once, maybe a long time ago, it probably worked. Now though, the rain had changed it’s course of working and entertaining. Spiders lived in the sockets and wires. People are a lot like that.. there is a point in our lives when we just want to stop working and putting on a show. It’s been 167 days. And it seems the forgetting part has turned into a forgotten.
This is probably the shittiest writing I have ever done. Whatever.
I see into you.
It’s midnight, which isn’t late. The insomnia is just beginning and I feel as if I have nothing to write. It seems like all the raw emotion has been drained out of me. I have said all I need to say and yet I don’t feel satisfied. I need another tragedy to happen. Please. This god awful pain of being at a loss for words right now is making me sick. Bring me all of your love. I am a selfish being, and I want it all. The hole inside of me has yet begun to grow once again. And I need something to fill it. Anything at this point. No attachments, just someone, here. Some days I wish a boy would write me poems again and appreciate my brain.
That’s a lot to ask though.
I feel like crying.
Today is just.. one of those days. It’s slow and cold and rainy. And I’m laying in the floor listening to the same song over and over again. I want to make music, and play the piano and play it for someone. I just don’t know how. No one is willing to listen. I really hate it when people stick their heads in my life and my feelings, they lurk my tumblr or my flickr. And they make awkward random comments at school, I don’t mind so much sharing it with people I don’t know, but I feel like it’s some big secret.. people see how I feel and look at me like I’m some freak >.< I don’t know anymore. I wish I had a home to go to. With all the yelling and screaming it doesn’t feel like anything good and honest here. I haven’t been able to write anything decent for days. Spring Break has been good. I can’t wait to leave to Seattle tomorrow.
http://tillthemorninglight.tumblr.com/page/82
makemeblushdrivemewild.
i'm your favourite scar
between two lungs
imlukeskywalker▲
http://www.flickr.com/photos/nicole365
Dear self,i love to watch you struggle.but i hate to see you cry.
now that you're home, won't you rescue me? i've been trying so hard to be good again.
i had the greatest faith in fools... i turned my back and out came the wolves.
You're a wolf.
keep the blood in your head.
My head is a storm.
Everyone else is either asleep or having sex. I've been watching cable television and eating jello.
your tongue is a rudder
back when my thoughts weren't entirely intact.
in time you'll taste all the salt in my lungs.
I keep losing everyone.
with the ash of our friends in our lungs.
he took my bones and he turned them into bread.
not in sight but in mind/heart
my imperfections complete me
vαlεητiηε.
"Get Lost," "Be All You Can't Be,"
and "Wish You Weren't Here"
.Childrin R Skary
♥I'm a ghost girl I am haunting in my own worldIt's fun Not to answer to no oneI'm a ghost girl, I'm a ghost gir
http://www.flickr.com/photos/piesoup/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/lettydavis/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/bluesensations/
Forgetting I exist is easier than acknowledging my failures
There were some buildings. There were these really tall buildings. And they could walk. Then there were some vampires. One of the vampires bit the tallest building and his fangs broke off. Then all of his other teeth fell out. The vampire started crying. And then all the other vampires said, "Why are you crying? Aren't those just your baby teeth?" And he said, "No, those are my grown-up teeth." And the vampires knew that he couldn't be a vampire anymore so they left him.The End.
If you want to kill yourself remeber that i love youhttp://www.flickr.com/photos/40478490@N02/
nótese la magnitud de mi trauma que nisiquiera puedo decir su nombre, siempre me refiero a "él" en tercera persona
I don't belong living in your precious memories
I`m always a mess. I can never keep my own secrets. I laugh too hard at stupid things. My favorite songs can make me cry. I always watch for 11:11, but I miss it more than I notice it. I live in the past, in the memories I have with the people I love. I hate thinking about reality and I`m so homesick that it`s not even funny. But not homesick in a missing my house kind of way...maybe it`s more like heartsick for all the things that I can`t get back. It`s hard for me to define myself. I guess I`m just a cliche--the girl who loved too hard and didn`t get anything in return. I don`t want to be the heroine in some tragic love story...I just want the one person who has never given me a second thought.
'You make me beautiful'
Having to ask someone if you made out with them the night before is awesome. Having to ask several people is awesomer.
If ur going to speak to your baby super loud in annoying baby talk do it in a sound proof room cause aint nobody wanna hear that shit
Pero si El no está con migo, esto se parece a un mes de diciembre porque es oscuro y frío.
Casi todas las canciones que escribí son sobre él.
Antes yo era la que que trabajaba en una relación, pero ahora El trabaja todo el tiempo y esto es difícil para mí. Quise conseguir su atención. Entonces El contestó: 'No porque este ocupado significa que no te amo.'
Yo sabía eso,por eso yo no quería que suba a ese avión. Yo queria que de quede. Y eso es lo de que 'Stay' se trata.
Es el más fresco, me pongo a escribir canciones para las personas que son importantes para mí.
viernes, 11 de junio de 2010
me with you
Everything was beautiful, and nothing hurt.
"As we melt let's make no noise oh the profanation of our love to tell the world our passing joys! And we, besides, care less to miss our eyes and lips and hands."
(but honey, I'm not who you think I am!)
"And so you'll be to me who must obliquely run "thy firmness makes my circle just, and makes me end where I begun" There's nothing wrong as I'll be somewhere singing all along."
(no! tell me, where have you gone, my love.)
Breakfast with Amy
Slaughterhouse-Five.
Everything is beautiful, and nothing hurts
You at all, you at all.
Everything is beautiful, and nothing hurts
In your world, in your world.
Words plain with lullaby refrain
So sweet, sleep, enjoy the time you keep
All around is wonderful and nothing harms
Me at all, me at all.
All around is wonderful, and nothing
In my world, in my world.
Words plain with lullaby refrain
So sweet, sleep, enjoy the time you keep
And if you call, I will follow after all,
So sweet, calm well keep us safe from harm.
Everything is beautiful, everything is beautiful and nothing hurts.
"Nothing of me is original. I am the combined effort of everyone I've ever known."
Hello, I'm Valentina. Sixeteen years and still breathing. I post photos, words and lots of nonsense. I like taking photos. I'm super average. I promise. I get a bit more personal on blogspot. I love quotes. If you know any good ones, pop one into my ask box. Just a friendly reminder: I am not a robot blog. Expect my opinions and thoughts. Have a lovely day.
I was just diagnosed with terminal cancer.No one knew that I’m gay until they saw my boyfriend kiss me. My mother slapped me, but the doctor pushed her away and said, “How DARE you treat your son like that? His love is beautiful, so either accept it or leave.” My doctor’s acceptance GMH.
loveyourchaos
"i really want to believe in heaven, you know, because i really want to see you again.". . . i don't know if this was personal, or just a quote you just like. but i promise you sarah, i promise you with every thing that i believe in, heaven does exist. and you will see your dad again. and i will see mine. i promise.
I must have read this and cried ten times. It means everything, thank you.
Hello, I'm Valentina. Sixeteen years and still breathing. I post photos, words and lots of nonsense. I like taking photos. I'm super average. I promise. I get a bit more personal on blogspot. I love quotes. If you know any good ones, pop one into my ask box. Just a friendly reminder: I am not a robot blog. Expect my opinions and thoughts. Have a lovely day.
I was just diagnosed with terminal cancer.No one knew that I’m gay until they saw my boyfriend kiss me. My mother slapped me, but the doctor pushed her away and said, “How DARE you treat your son like that? His love is beautiful, so either accept it or leave.” My doctor’s acceptance GMH.
loveyourchaos
"i really want to believe in heaven, you know, because i really want to see you again.". . . i don't know if this was personal, or just a quote you just like. but i promise you sarah, i promise you with every thing that i believe in, heaven does exist. and you will see your dad again. and i will see mine. i promise.
I must have read this and cried ten times. It means everything, thank you.
sábado, 5 de junio de 2010
Ya me habia acostumbrado a las llamadas.
Esas en las que me cuentas todo de ti y me enamoras más
En las que te ries y se con certeza que estas sonriendo
Y por un segundo se que es por mí.
Oye pequeña como te fue? Preguntas con esa voz
Ya se acerca el adios. Pero ninguno quiere irse.
Me empiezo a dar cuenta que no te puedo querer más.
Necesito ponerme un alto.
Me comienzo a enamorar.
¿Por que de ti?
Detesto tus ojos y esa voz que me hace temblar
¿Por que de ti?
Eres todo lo que quiero.
Y endulzas mis oidos con palabras.
Pero cariño! esas se las lleva el viento. Estan llenas de nada.
& asi es como tu me dejas. Sin nada.
Pensandolo bien, creo que estamos mejorando.
Pensandolo bien, ya te estoy necesitando.
Pensandolo bien, tu has cambiado.
Esas en las que me cuentas todo de ti y me enamoras más
En las que te ries y se con certeza que estas sonriendo
Y por un segundo se que es por mí.
Oye pequeña como te fue? Preguntas con esa voz
Ya se acerca el adios. Pero ninguno quiere irse.
Me empiezo a dar cuenta que no te puedo querer más.
Necesito ponerme un alto.
Me comienzo a enamorar.
¿Por que de ti?
Detesto tus ojos y esa voz que me hace temblar
¿Por que de ti?
Eres todo lo que quiero.
Y endulzas mis oidos con palabras.
Pero cariño! esas se las lleva el viento. Estan llenas de nada.
& asi es como tu me dejas. Sin nada.
Pensandolo bien, creo que estamos mejorando.
Pensandolo bien, ya te estoy necesitando.
Pensandolo bien, tu has cambiado.
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