"ive been confused, and hurt, and baffled, and there is a feeling without a name, that goes between hating yourself, and confused at the world"
a friend of mine said this to me over aim just now in response to the question "what have you been up to lately?" i think his answer more than explains what so many people are going through and what so many people refuse to admit to those around them. this is how we are feeling but we dont want to talk about it. i dont want to talk about it either. thats why i have to write about it here, where there is no immediate response. where i can ignore you if i want to. where i can be alone. well buddy i think youre pretty fucking brave to say that straight out.
great expectations suck
if people would just let go of their expectations, i think we would all be a lot happier. as it is, we just build ourselves up for disappointment. waiting for things to come that dont, wanting people to be what they arent, all that bullshit just detracts from the reality of things. it detracts from what good there actually is because we focus on the good there might have been. well, i dont suppose its that easy to give up on expectations, because ive tried but im disappointed even in that. but i can look back with hindsight and see what good there actually was in things. and maybe i can appreciate it even if its after the fact. this is all so easy to type out, so difficult to do most days. but at least its an idea and at least i feel a little better about myself for writing it down.
cara cicatriz con simon y miranda. que divierto.
me duele la cabeza como si fuera atropellado por un coche.
estoy mas o menos contenta.
ive been reading the bible to try and figure out what life is all about. so far all ive discovered worth mentioning is that i am utterly lacking in faith.
no words, only dreams
a few years ago i woke up in the dark of the morning with the air still black and wet and clinging to my window. holding on to the metal railing of my loft bed with one hand i extended my body into the air, my other hand groping for the light chain dangling from the ceiling. that moment seemed to last forever as i hung there, suspended in midair in the dark, feeling weightless and surreal. then out of nowhere came a startling blow to my head that flung me backwards in a violent explosion of pain, the back of my skull crashing into the metal bedframe. i lay on my back in stunned silence with a hand clapped over the wound. it wasnt until a few moments later that i remembered that i had put the fan on before going to bed. i leaned out into the air again, keeping my head lower this time. finding the chain at last i tugged on it until the lights burst into action. one of the fan blades had a red mark on the edge. a red mark that exactly matched the blood on my head. i cleaned it off with a tissue.
i dont have that bed anymore. now my bed is low to the ground and it screeches like a pissed off cat every time i move. yesterday i lay on my back in that bed with its soft lumps of mattress padding pushing against my back, with the dog sitting on the pillow next to my head, with .s. by my side, and i watched that fan spin its endless shadows across the ceiling as the sun scorched the world outside.
these words - maybe they cant describe anything for anyone but me. maybe im just putting my own dreams and memories into one more unrecognizable form for the benefit of no one but myself. but words arent so important anyway. because you dont need words when youve got dreams.
i guess there are two main reasons i like the book Riddley Walker.
1) arga warga
2) the idea of everything crumbling into a nonidentifiable mess of ruined civilization
in that order.
life needs a pause button to control this insane pace. i want more time to savor the good things.
The truth is that gossip's as good as gospel in this town. You can save face but you won't ever save your soul.
ugly grey day and cold. made me feel like falling into a little heap of grey ashes and just laying there on the ground. im sick of doing what everyone else wants me to be doing. i want to do what i want to do. seems like everyone wants me to think that their big deal is my big deal. teachers and coaches and parents and everyone. jesus christ sometimes even friends with their constant temptations to skip the things i ought to be doing, so we can go have fun. i want to have fun but i dont want the consequences, and sometimes i wish they would just let me be boring and busy and inaccessible. sometimes i really wish that. most of the time i want to just drop everything and go sit around with them and not even do anything. like we do at lunch. just sit around and not do anything and talk. but i am boring and busy and inaccessible. its getting to me. some days i think everything will be better next year, just keep hoping for next year and trying not to think too much about the current one. ugly grey days like these i dont think anything is going to get better. not next year or the one after that or ever. just more of the same and never content. but at least im not depressed anymore. oh no, not that. these days im much more like bipolar. because the bad moods are still there but the up days are way up, uncontrollably so. so much that it worries me that i am out of control. but fuck it all anyway and forget control for once. its still better than it was before. much better (believe that, dammit, would you just believe in the words you write). besides, im sick of everything being in control. i think it would be best if we could all just let go and let things take their course. its not like it will change much in the end anyway, whether we struggle or whether we lay back and drift. everything ends. everything dies. some things will always be worth the struggle but for the most part i just want to lay back and drift. most things arent as important as people want you to think. the race to be best is not that important, the race to be first and on top and perfect. thats someone elses big deal. i dont want that to be my big deal. no. i dont want a big deal. i just want to relax. its unfortunate that i find that to be currently impossible.
Don't degrade yourself the way I do, because you don't depend on all the shit that I use to make my moods improve
the clocks took their hour back a few days ago, reaching into my life with their slick white-gloved hands and cutting out my time with a scalpels precision. i guess i havent been paying much attention lately because the air is hot now and i sleep with the fan blades dancing it into whirpools above my bed. wasnt it this week that i woke up cold through my blankets? was it not? seems like everything was this week, like life just started and i got shoved into it without warning. some form of induced labor on the part of my subconscious that knocked the awareness back into me but left everything feeling disoriented and surreal. you wouldnt think time would be dramatic and i suppose its not, now that it comes down to it. maybe its me thats dramatic. maybe its everything and im just watching it all unfold and telling it straight - telling how its you and your life and everything touching your life thats dramatic. just everything.
ive been thinking a lot about what i am lately and what ive come up with is that we are individually both nothing and everything, and that our lives are individually both instantaneous and eternal. it all depends on the frame of reference. thats the real idea ive been playing with i guess. flipping the viewpoint on my life at every whim, systematically building up my own self-importance for the sole purpose of shattering it back down to zero. both the architect and the wrecking-ball operator. at least it fills the time. ive got to admit, i like the wrecking-ball part the best. there is something undeniably attractive about destruction.
i unlocked the front door today and walked into the house and luke was in my kitchen just like it was two years ago and he had never been gone, only he had an accent.
