I wish my posts weren't serious. I want to come here and tell jokes. I want to write about books I'm reading or songs I'm keen on. I want to say that everything is going well. But does anything ever go well? Do we ever understand anything in this life, or are we constantly running amuck in the disillusionment? I don't understand anything. And while I used to firmly grasp sparse securities in my life, I have nothing secure anymore.
I have always shared a close, loving relationship with my sister. Now she won't talk to me. She told my parents that I don't love her anymore... No one understands what that feels like for me. You might try imagining fighting with someone you love. You might understand how painful that can be. Most people fight with close friends or lovers and it's very painful. But she has been my best friend for my entire life. We are more than family, more than friends, more than words can say. We have never bickered to the extent that we did on Saturday afternoon. I have never screamed as loud as I did then. I feel wrong. I feel sick. I feel the same that I did, and it won't change. When does it stop? Please God, make this pain go away.
I have always thought of my dad as one of the smartest, funniest people I know. I did not question his judgement, though sometimes he doesn't always act maturely. But now he is out of work again and lounging around the house like old times with no income and nothing to do but be sick -- and he is rather sick. I'm sure most of it is induced by depression. But do I really understand this person anymore? More than anything -- and this is terrible to say -- I just pity him, and love him because he is more lost than anyone I know... love is all I can do for my dad.
I have always thought that I was blessed with an abundance of good friends, guys and girls alike. Four great guy friends. Four great girl friends. I had the musically/artisticly inclined kind of friends, I had the I'll-call-you-no-matter-what kind of friends, I had the friends that would invite me to go out with them, I had the friends that told me not to worry, that I was a good person, that everything would be okay. Where are those people? I only hear their voice when it's me that dials the number. I don't ask for much, if anything. I ask to be remembered, and I don't think I am thought of, not now, and certainly not when I'm three hours away. I understand that life changes and situations change and people change. But great friendships... well, I thought that mine would always be there. I thought that friendship endured. I thought that was the point. I have tried and tried and worked hard at this until I have literally passed out from the exhaust. In conclusion, I no longer am certain that I have many friends, and if I do, why does it always seem like I'm working so, so hard... handing out this piece of advice and this fragment of support? I do not completely doubt that I am loved. But please, please, show me something that I can believe. Something concrete. I no longer am fulfilled sitting around guessing how people feel about me.
In the past week, I have cried so much that I have made myself physically ill. I have perpetual headaches. This "cough and cold" has settled into my lungs. I have continued to gain weight, ten pounds, and I'm not eating any more than I did... in fact, I'm eating less. I want to sleep, always be sleeping. I know that I look very bad. But why have I always tried so hard to be viewed as a pretty person? I do not feel pretty about myself... I don't remember the last time I actually did. No, that's wrong. I do remember. It was two years ago, the end of my sophomore year. I felt pretty then. But until I learn to take care of myself, love myself, and understand myself, who is going to give a fuck for this carriage of skin and bone and sadness... fucking sadness that will not go away? No one.
Why do I come here and write things like this? I am pouring out my heart. This is a real person talking. And why? It's the Internet. It's an entertainment website. I am abusing my priviledge of expression. I am using this canvas to make a statement and hope that someone, anyone, sees it, hears it, and nods their head in understanding.
I don't want to ever be remembered as someone who never had anything to say about life. I have things to say. They aren't always right. They aren't always fun to read. But at least I'm not dead yet. I'm still talking, and I still have a point, and even in all my sadness and all my confusion, I still have a direction. I haven't completely lost my sense of self, though I question it everyday. I'm sure this post is just like all the rest, and the comments are like all the rest, and no one knows what to say but hopes that I feel better. I thank you for that. I hope I feel better, too.
I am not going to write here again until I have something to say that's different. Until I understand something. I will write on a piece of paper under my bed, but I don't want anyone to read anything like this from my head anymore. I am sharing it now because I feel it serves to benefit others more than myself.
I will still check the site and maybe comment. I will check my e-mail. It's kissingdirt@yahoo.com.
The Tanbark Is Hot Lava by Dredg
The old returns
While the new can bore
You are the one who fell
Into a self-created hell
We've worn it out
It took time to realize
It's a chore to recognize
What your world could take
It's overgrown
Take this all away now
Real soon you will take it all the way down
The old returns
While the new can bore
You are the one who fell
Into a self-created hell
There is no way out
When you build a stubborn shell
That shields you from any help
We've worn it out
You tried to maximize
But it comes as no surprise
You hurled a stake
Into your own dome
Take this all away now
Real soon you will take it all the way down
Bring her back
She was beautiful
Bring her back
Tryin' to Throw Your Arms Around the World by U2
Six o'clock in the morning
You're the last to hear the warning
You've been tryin' to throw your arms around the world
You've been falling off the sidewalk
Your lips move but you can't talk
Tryin' to throw your arms around the world
I'm gonna run to you, run to you, run to you
Be still
I'm gonna run to you, run to you, run to you
Woman I will
Sunrise like a nosebleed
Your head hurts and you can't breathe
You been tryin' to throw your arms around the world
How far are you gonna go
Before you lose your way back home
You've been tryin' to throw your arms around the world
I'm gonna run to you, run to you, run to you
Woman be still
I'm gonna run to you, run to you, run to you
Woman I will
I dreamed that I saw Dali
With a supermarket trolley
He was tryin' to throw his arms around a girl
He took an open-top beetle
Through the eye of a needle
He was tryin' to throw his arms around the world
I'm gonna run to you, run to you, run to you
Woman be still
I'm gonna run to you, run to you, run to you
Woman I will
Nothin' much to say I guess
Just the same as all the rest
Been tryin' to throw my arms around the world
A woman needs a man
Like a fish needs a bicycle
When you're tryin' to throw your arms around the world
I'm gonna run to you, run to you, run to you
I'm gonna run to you, run to you, run to you
I'm gonna run to you, run to you, run to you
Woman be still, woman be still, be still
Woman be still
Woman I will
I have always shared a close, loving relationship with my sister. Now she won't talk to me. She told my parents that I don't love her anymore... No one understands what that feels like for me. You might try imagining fighting with someone you love. You might understand how painful that can be. Most people fight with close friends or lovers and it's very painful. But she has been my best friend for my entire life. We are more than family, more than friends, more than words can say. We have never bickered to the extent that we did on Saturday afternoon. I have never screamed as loud as I did then. I feel wrong. I feel sick. I feel the same that I did, and it won't change. When does it stop? Please God, make this pain go away.
I have always thought of my dad as one of the smartest, funniest people I know. I did not question his judgement, though sometimes he doesn't always act maturely. But now he is out of work again and lounging around the house like old times with no income and nothing to do but be sick -- and he is rather sick. I'm sure most of it is induced by depression. But do I really understand this person anymore? More than anything -- and this is terrible to say -- I just pity him, and love him because he is more lost than anyone I know... love is all I can do for my dad.
I have always thought that I was blessed with an abundance of good friends, guys and girls alike. Four great guy friends. Four great girl friends. I had the musically/artisticly inclined kind of friends, I had the I'll-call-you-no-matter-what kind of friends, I had the friends that would invite me to go out with them, I had the friends that told me not to worry, that I was a good person, that everything would be okay. Where are those people? I only hear their voice when it's me that dials the number. I don't ask for much, if anything. I ask to be remembered, and I don't think I am thought of, not now, and certainly not when I'm three hours away. I understand that life changes and situations change and people change. But great friendships... well, I thought that mine would always be there. I thought that friendship endured. I thought that was the point. I have tried and tried and worked hard at this until I have literally passed out from the exhaust. In conclusion, I no longer am certain that I have many friends, and if I do, why does it always seem like I'm working so, so hard... handing out this piece of advice and this fragment of support? I do not completely doubt that I am loved. But please, please, show me something that I can believe. Something concrete. I no longer am fulfilled sitting around guessing how people feel about me.
In the past week, I have cried so much that I have made myself physically ill. I have perpetual headaches. This "cough and cold" has settled into my lungs. I have continued to gain weight, ten pounds, and I'm not eating any more than I did... in fact, I'm eating less. I want to sleep, always be sleeping. I know that I look very bad. But why have I always tried so hard to be viewed as a pretty person? I do not feel pretty about myself... I don't remember the last time I actually did. No, that's wrong. I do remember. It was two years ago, the end of my sophomore year. I felt pretty then. But until I learn to take care of myself, love myself, and understand myself, who is going to give a fuck for this carriage of skin and bone and sadness... fucking sadness that will not go away? No one.
Why do I come here and write things like this? I am pouring out my heart. This is a real person talking. And why? It's the Internet. It's an entertainment website. I am abusing my priviledge of expression. I am using this canvas to make a statement and hope that someone, anyone, sees it, hears it, and nods their head in understanding.
I don't want to ever be remembered as someone who never had anything to say about life. I have things to say. They aren't always right. They aren't always fun to read. But at least I'm not dead yet. I'm still talking, and I still have a point, and even in all my sadness and all my confusion, I still have a direction. I haven't completely lost my sense of self, though I question it everyday. I'm sure this post is just like all the rest, and the comments are like all the rest, and no one knows what to say but hopes that I feel better. I thank you for that. I hope I feel better, too.
I am not going to write here again until I have something to say that's different. Until I understand something. I will write on a piece of paper under my bed, but I don't want anyone to read anything like this from my head anymore. I am sharing it now because I feel it serves to benefit others more than myself.
I will still check the site and maybe comment. I will check my e-mail. It's kissingdirt@yahoo.com.
The Tanbark Is Hot Lava by Dredg
The old returns
While the new can bore
You are the one who fell
Into a self-created hell
We've worn it out
It took time to realize
It's a chore to recognize
What your world could take
It's overgrown
Take this all away now
Real soon you will take it all the way down
The old returns
While the new can bore
You are the one who fell
Into a self-created hell
There is no way out
When you build a stubborn shell
That shields you from any help
We've worn it out
You tried to maximize
But it comes as no surprise
You hurled a stake
Into your own dome
Take this all away now
Real soon you will take it all the way down
Bring her back
She was beautiful
Bring her back
Tryin' to Throw Your Arms Around the World by U2
Six o'clock in the morning
You're the last to hear the warning
You've been tryin' to throw your arms around the world
You've been falling off the sidewalk
Your lips move but you can't talk
Tryin' to throw your arms around the world
I'm gonna run to you, run to you, run to you
Be still
I'm gonna run to you, run to you, run to you
Woman I will
Sunrise like a nosebleed
Your head hurts and you can't breathe
You been tryin' to throw your arms around the world
How far are you gonna go
Before you lose your way back home
You've been tryin' to throw your arms around the world
I'm gonna run to you, run to you, run to you
Woman be still
I'm gonna run to you, run to you, run to you
Woman I will
I dreamed that I saw Dali
With a supermarket trolley
He was tryin' to throw his arms around a girl
He took an open-top beetle
Through the eye of a needle
He was tryin' to throw his arms around the world
I'm gonna run to you, run to you, run to you
Woman be still
I'm gonna run to you, run to you, run to you
Woman I will
Nothin' much to say I guess
Just the same as all the rest
Been tryin' to throw my arms around the world
A woman needs a man
Like a fish needs a bicycle
When you're tryin' to throw your arms around the world
I'm gonna run to you, run to you, run to you
I'm gonna run to you, run to you, run to you
I'm gonna run to you, run to you, run to you
Woman be still, woman be still, be still
Woman be still
Woman I will
VIEW 13 of 13 COMMENTS
capitalistfig:
Keep writing. It will be important later. You should see my livejournal. (I'd like to see it, but I can't remember the password 
)
)
eightzeroone:
Your writing is a song I could listen to over and over.