Tuesday, April 30, 2013

the last night

so i sit on a bare mattress cos my stupid ass picked the latest hour to attempt doing all of the goddamn laundry.
im in whatever smelly clothes i remembered to not pack, surrounded by boxes and bits of dry wall from where my roommate and i tried to finagle my horribly put together bed frame down the narrow, low ceilinged stairway.
i poked my head in bubs' room.  i remember being 6 months pregnant and just moving in.  i remember seeing hope and potential in these walls.  i remember feeling bright and optimistic about my new future.

alas, as life usually turns out, it was quite the opposite of what id hoped.
instead of family there was "FUCK YOU."  instead of beauty there was "BITCH."

sitting in this empty room reminds me that this was no place to call home.
i never liked being here.
i never decorated.
i never took care of the yard cos there were so many fucking plants and i kill everything without meaning to.
i never FULLY unpacked and settled in.
i never felt like i belonged.

so, after 3 break-ins, an ex moving out and a roommate moving in.... it's time to go.
it's time to not have an overwhelming garden and 900 trees and bushes on my property.
it's time to not be responsible for the maintenance and upkeep of a property while trying to work, go to school, keep up with homework, and single parent a 3 year old.
it's time to start over.

normally, i am the person that needs to know everything.
i get anxious if i dont know where things are going.
i just like preparing myself for best and worst case scenario at the same time.
well....
i used to.

lately a friend has taught me to go with the breeze and although i have my flip out moments of overwhelming stress, i can honestly say.... i dont know, and i dont care.

i feel like i have a chance to start over, to be safe, for new things to happen and new people to come into contact with.
i feel like i can decorate and have a place to call home.
i can have a record player and no tv.
i can paint whatever colors i want.
i can be loud.
i can have privacy.
i can play music next to a big open window or on the deck in my backyard or next to the firepit in my backyard.
i have someone to call when things break and i dont have to pay for it.
i have a place to call home and i like it.

so now, surrounded by boxes, remnants of tape, scattered dust bunnies and bobby pins.... i write this last blog entry from the place i lived for 3 years.  the place where bubs took her first steps, said her first words, and taught me about love and life and REALLY living.  the place where i gained the courage to say "I NEED TO TAKE CARE OF ME" and faced the cold reality of being on my own as a working parent in school.  the place where i learned how to fix plumbing issues, change an air filter, and even where i bludgeoned a mouse to death with a bottle of dishwasher soap.  the place where i mowed my first lawn and trimmed my first tree.  the place where i had to grow up and learn that im capable.

so good bye old house and hello possibilities.
i dont know if anyone will come visit my new house.
i dont know if i will unpack by july.
i just know i feel a little bit more home there than i do here and that's a good enough sign and start for me.

Monday, April 29, 2013

the overwhelming alone

maybe it's psychosis or narcisism.  maybe im on a world of sleep medication and can't think straight.  maybe it's cos my life is so consumed with making sure im always doing things for others i dont really understand how comforting alone can  really be. 

i have this horribly overwhelming feeling of being alone.
no one texts or calls.
no one tweets or facebook's me asking me whats up or how i am or if i want to hang out. 
im expected to invite myself along but then i just feel like a bother and not a friend.
i can honestly say i never really had any actual friends.
it's sad but at this point in my adult life, i am starting to realize that my life has been an endless pool of sad stories. 
but who wants to read sad things.... wait... this is MY blog.... welp, enjoy this sad story again if you feel like it's ok to read any further:

so friends.
it's a foreign concept to me.
it's like the same thing with dating a guy for me... im ok for a few months and then i do something i suppose that turns people off and away.
right now i sit surrounded by boxed up memories of a very emotional 3 years. 
everyone else i know is out and about and im sitting with boxes.
i feel like the world races on around me and happy memories are formed every instant that im not around.
and it's this overwhelming feeling of being alone.
some people are good with alone.
im not.
it makes my heart actually feel a pang of ache.

again, i think it's cos im always around people but doing things FOR them, that i never get that ability to genuinely enjoy any of my interactions.  i crave that feeling more than anything.
and then i find people that i respect and appreciate knowing and, like with my dating life, say or do something not right and off they go.  and it's overwhelming to feel so alone.
sometimes you just want someone to call you because a smell in a bar reminded them of wet chipotle fart and they thought youd think its funny.

i dont know i cant say that i know what that kind of love feels like to get.  and if people ARE showing that to me then i really wish i could know and understand it.  it sounds amazing.

so yeah... boxes.
i feel that is all i do.  pack up and move.  switch social groups as quickly as i skip jobs or apartments or hobbies.  i just ... all but one time, i have never gotten that feeling of belonging or knowing that im doing something im supposed to do.  i want to have that.  i want to find where i fit but endlessly i come to the conclusion that i am gonzo in muppets from space.  i mean yeah at the end he finds his kind which is what i hope for, but there's this deep void just wanting to know where you belong and who you are. 

and maybe this is normal and it never goes away- that questioning ache inside of the depths of your inner self... at your wit's end, hair between your fingers, violently attempting to pull the folicles from your scalp, doubled over on the floor.  it hurts so much tho.  it hurts to miss a place you don't know and people you've never met.  it hurts when you feel like maybe you found it but in reality, it was all in your head and you're not what you thought you were.... the rug pulled out from under your feet and down you go through the floorboards to a concrete demise yards below.

so yes, this is what alone feels like... the overwhelming alone that is slowly taking me over.

Saturday, April 27, 2013

im sorry for the scary things inside of my brain but this is me ... for now.

i really wish it would all just dissipate into the vast blackness of the night sky.
the thoughts are so so loud again.
if i wrote them all down you would probably find me insane and check me into a hospital.
the fact that im aware how awful they are and how wrong is ok for a little bit, but...
im a soldier with a gaping hole in my armour and no weapon for attack.
im standing at the battleline with a napkin and wearing a dress.
ill prepared for what is going on.
all i have are these words.
these half-assed attempts at making sense of what i want to be rid of.

i hate that i cant just walk into a room and feel like i can have happy times or at least blend into some piece of furniture around me.
no.
instead i hear voices saying how much they hate me, eyes that burn holes right through me with stares so murderous, smiles masking canibalistic urges to tear me apart...

i wish i didnt see the people around me as vicious, carnivorous beasts out for my blood.
people care and give a shit about my well being and shit, even about my bubs and i cant see that.
i see walls that ive built because trusting people can care about me is scary.
what's scarier still is that i dont even understand why a person would even give a shit about me or bubs anyway...

and therein lies the heart of it all.
maybe i see monsters because i live in that realm.
i live in the realm of dark and scary and surfacing to the light of day where people smile and laugh and are careless is so foreign to me.
but that is where i want to be.
away from it all.
away from all of this.

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

simply... it's beautiful

so i have a fascination with space.
not to the point where i know galaxies and stars and real scientific shit.
it's a fascination that is simply an intense admiration.
i look up at the infinite expansion of dark, beautifully and intricately decorated with stars and...
i feel so small.  but small in an amazing way.  i feel awake yet finite.
it's a small reminder that ... well, im small.
so often i take the smallest hiccup in life and turn it into some earthshattering, soulcrushing weight...
when it's really the size of a pebble... and just.... get lost.

but it's that bad kind of lost.
the kind of lost where you need to get home before it's useless to get any sleep and youre not enjoying your predicament and your phone is dead and you have no means of gps so you're driving aimlessly to some sort of interstate only to find you drove 45 minutes north of where you need to be.... equalling no sleep.

the small i mean comes from a different kind of lost... the lost i mean lost where you are so captivated by sight and sound and the overwhelming complexity of existence.  where your mind is so full and amazed that it simply can not hold another bit more... and you shut your eyes and revel at something you just learned that didn't come from another person's findings or research, and wasn't another man's opinion.... it was an awakening all on your own.  and it was beautiful.

life lately has been full of those brief moments where my mind is so overwhelmed with awe that i have to shut my eyes just to keep it in and hold onto the little bit i have just gained.  then there are days, like today, where my brain is all askew with the unraveling and undone and my mind tailspins at illegal speeds down a dark rabbit hole of illogical conclusions and fun house mirrors... i hate those things- always distorting and horrifying the truth.  but that's another issue i have....

anyway, days like today- i had to take a step back and lose myself... lose  myself in the shocking reality (i type that as sarcastically as i would be saying it) that the world is bigger than ME.  my problems and issues and worries and chaos- it is so small in comparison to all that is going on around me.  it is a fraction of a fragment of the greater whole.

sometimes you need to take a step back and see...
and again, it's being awake...
before i thought i saw everything how it was and is and that was that.
and it was ugly.
life wasn't very enjoyable and i didnt really like living it.
then there came this moment where it was as if my mind became aroused from some hibernating sleep, turned on, and in it was the most blinding light.  suddenly things made sense.  suddenly the world turned on and i saw it and though situations on it were horrible, outside of all of that... in and of itself, the world is remarkable and intricate and complex and detailed and simply... it's beautiful.

not to say im going to play passive ignorance to injustice or personal responsibilities, but... that consumption of pain and self and despair... the world is bigger than that and sometimes stepping back to appreciate it and see it for what it is, it's like that push to keep going.  sure, some shit may be super wrong and ugly, but it has the potential to be beautiful and amazing and it can get there.  there's little reminders of how beautiful life is all over.  it's just about stopping, stepping outside of yourself, and seeing them.

i need to do that more.  it makes me feel my kind of normal.

Sunday, April 21, 2013

they're baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-aaaaaaaaaaaack

it's like im waiting for some subliminal message to be made loud.
some landmine warning signal to tell me the way to go... to show me what the fuck it is im waiting on and for and where im headed to.
today is the first day in a while the thoughts became too loud and muddled all sense of logic and coherency.
they are still loudly raging and racing.
and oh how i would love for them to be silenced... with some proverbial duct tape or cholorformed rag.
i hate how easily they take over with their slick enunciation of thesaurus ridden speech.

these thoughts are so loud even now.
racing at speeds i cant clock.

they tell me im too big.
they make me feel bad for having eaten but tell me to eat more.
then when ive eaten more than i probably should have they begin the guilt cycle again.
they tell me no one likes me.
they tell me im a waste.
they tell me i am boring and useless.
they tell me i am ordinary and dull.

they tell me all of the things i know are false but somehow can not see past.
blindly and numbly i accept these things as truth and allow them to shackle my hands to weights no human could lift.

so i just sit.
i sit and i sulk and im miserable.
but the rest of you are happy.... so that's all that matters, right?

Friday, April 19, 2013

it's just like waking up

so a friend and i were talking.
i mentioned how i feel like im being woken up for the first time... and how in the same moment of enjoyment, i hate it.
i hate that it has taken me so long to get to this place where things are clear in my vision and in my thoughts.
we were discussing how some people cant see that way.  how they just stress and strive for money and things and more of some obscure lifestyle.  they see no one but themselves and seek their own benefit and gain.
i mentioned how i was there once.
this angry little shit.
an angry little shit so hellbent on making everyone else suffer because i was in pain.
and the reason i was in pain and feeling suffering?
i was misunderstood.
i had no one around me to let me know i WAS in fact normal.
i may not see the world in "9-5's" and "401k vision,"  but im normal.
there are others.
there are others who have been woken up.
there are others who are wide awake.
we see things so much differently.
it's a different i dont even have the words for anymore.
it's like trying to explain the feeling a painting or a song gives you... some people will merely see splashes and scribbles while you see existence and beauty and an elation that you can not find words for.
there are times when people are so close... so close to being woken up....
but the sound and the feeling of being uprooted from a ground you cling so tightly to for security and safety.... it's unsettling.
it's scary and most would rather shut their eyes and burrow their roots even deeper than take the risk, the leap across the canyon and trust that what is will be a safe place for your feet to land.
i can understand tho.
the ability to bury my roots in "safety" kept me asleep for far too long....
sometimes i can still hear the roots being torn when some new change is taking place to wake me up even further.
and then he said something.
i dont really remember exactly what it was....
but it was this level of awareness i know is there but i would rather, for right now, stay ignorant too.
it is where i shut my eyes and bury my own little tiny roots in this level of awareness where i am right now.
but there is a higher place i want to visit and more than i want to experience.
im not fully awake yet, but having been woken up has been an amazing life change that i so desperately needed.
so while there is no certainty or security, it's amazing to be woken up.
it's amazing to let those roots just tear and allow yourself to be transported to this new place of living- this awareness of others and self, this appreciation for beauty in things seen and unseen, this ability to be empathetic and loving, this fascination with the simple and the vast....
wake up.
life's much better outside of hazy dreams.
this world can be pretty damn beautiful sometimes.

Thursday, April 11, 2013

a fraction of stories ive never told a soul

i hope one day to be able to live so far outside of myself that i can see what people really see.  it doesnt happen all the time, but in various incremental moments, usually when i open my mouth and say something, my brain conjures up all of these ludicrous ideas.  every person in the same building that i am in or reading a tweet or seeing an instagram or facebook post in their feed... i find myself thinking im being laughed at.  i find myself wondering what horrible things are being said.  i hate that i can believe i am so small.
i hate that i can think people waste energy to hate me, verbally abuse me, or think anything of me other than i am just me.
maybe the reason my brain can travel distances farther than it has the energy for is the past.
the unglorious trauma known as my past.

so a while back i'd read "perks of being a wallflower" after my younger half sister quoted it in some facebook post.  i dont remember reading a whole book in a day, but something caught me and i read until the room was dark and evening had snuck up on me.  charlie, the main character... he's a lot like me.  he has scars.  he has stories he cant tell a human face, so he writes someone a letter.  he lost his best friend to suicide and is wandering his freshman year of high school alone.  then he meets sam and patrick and they invite him into their circle of friends and he finally feels like he belongs, like he's home.  he's amongst his kind and for once... he's happy.

i know we all have scars and stories and sad things, but i can honestly say to whatever wandering eyes are scanning this page for some outright idiocy or paraphrase to raise an eyebrow and scoff...i never really had friends.  i never really felt home.  i never really belonged anywhere.  at least that's what i thought.

i got bullied and although i love to share my triumphant stories of tackling two guy bullies down with physical force, no one knows how much it really hurt.  no one knows how id be too afraid to die cos i was scared into religious beliefs saying i would be damned to hell for a life of imperfect curiosity, so instead of cutting, i would just claw my arm up with any dull object i could find.  i never left any scars.  i would just watch my pale flesh begin to tear, layer by layer, growing more and more pink, til finally little specks of blood would appear.  that shook me back into reality and i felt alive again.  somehow seeing my own blood was enough to remind me i was feeling something other than the constant weight of being alone.  i would hide in playgrounds, in the closet of my room during college, in bathroom stalls during lunch.. all to find a way to feel.  it escalated to the point where i would fall asleep with knives and wake up wondering what brought me to that place.  i ate an entire bottle of sleeping pills washed down with a lot of captain morgan and .... i woke up with a stomachache.

even before these physical acts occurred, i remember asking for help.  every hand i aimed to grasp would just slap me in the face or push me down and away.  every face i sought some sort of comfort and understanding from turned the other cheek.  more than anything i just wanted someone to just be there, however it looked, and just let me know i wasnt alone.

i walked in on so many people talking about me.  they didnt think i heard, but i have a severe talent for being at the wrong place at the wrong time.  i know too much of what i was never intended to hear.

after J i lost nearly everyone.  the "family" at the gym i trained at for 4 years was no longer there except really for papa.  and J had pretty much taken everything away from me since i allowed myself to be controlled and manipulated by another person all to simply feel and not be alone.  he was a mess too.  he had similar issues i did and for me, it was enough at that point simply because i wanted to be understood.

then there came this moment.  this moment where i wouldnt realize it until many months later, that that feeling of being exactly where youre meant to be, i was there.  i, like charlie, stumbled upon my patrick and sam, and they brought me into a world so different from the cloudy gray existence i had been sleepwalking through.  they exposed me to life and family and friends and.... acceptance.  sam says a line that someone said to me, "welcome to the island of misfit toys."

it's funny walking through life alone for so long, even under the roof where your bed and green day posters are and where your scribbles that pass for artwork grace the refrigerator door, held on by magnets once meant to teach you something important, you always feel this sense of vacancy.  it feels hollow and cold and irrelevant.  you just want to take flight and run.  your spirit, this restless nomad, on the hunt for a place to call home...

i feel like i finally found it.  but ...

it is so hard to let go sometimes.  it is so hard to let go of the defense mechanisms that just helped me to survive.  i was on a planet not my own with foreign air my lungs were never meant to breathe.  but i learned to survive.  and now that i find myself home, i find myself unsure of how to walk and breathe and speak.  all of the horrible feelings come back.  memories of being bullied and beat up and made fun of and talked down to and talked about... they seep through every porous membrane, like dry  soil in desperate need of a drink.

i still feel so small.
i still feel so unsure of who i am and why the fuck these people even give a shit if i drive home drunk or pass out on their kitchen floors.  i have no clue why they want to give me hugs and sit down and eat or drink with me.  i dont know how to accept being accepted, especially when im not sure what there is about me to accept.

and this is where i began.
i wonder who i am.
when all the thoughts silence....
when all my preconceived ideas about what anyone else is thinking or saying slow down and fade into elevator background sounds.... who am i....?
i know the superficial shit but i wonder what about me is worth knowing and liking...
i wonder what the fuck i am even here for....
i wonder what im good at...
i wonder if anyone looks at me how i look at them...
i wonder if anyone thinks about me and smiles like i do sometimes....
and sometimes, i wonder if anyone else has these same thoughts that i do...

cos i dont feel so abnormal anymore.
i dont feel like gonzo in the beginning of muppets from space.  i feel like charlie at the end of perks of being a wallflower... let go of all the painful memories he has never told a soul, and free... free to be infinite and no longer a sad story... free to experience life and live and just be happy.

well maybe not entirely charlie....i hope to someday get there.
but for right now... i really want to know what people see and think.  not so much that their opinions will make me change, but i think more than anything i really have no clue who i am or if im good at anything or smart or fun or ... likeable.  i know this sounds so pathetic and high school but this is how i think because for 25 years of my life i have been instructed to hide my feelings, not to cry, and that no one wants to be around someone that has something to say that isnt happy.  every time i reached out for help before i was called weird, told i had issues, called crazy and insane, or blocked/deleted/ignored/left to eat lunch by myself in the bathroom.

so im learning now that it is ok to be human and to feel things, happy or sad.
it is ok to have flaws and want to fix them.
it is ok to make a mistake and try again.

what i really hope to learn is that im probably a lot bigger than i give myself credit for.
if i could just actually applicably grasp this concept, i can  only gather that i would be unstoppable.

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

dirty digging hands

i fight and repress and battle and regress.
finally the weight is too much and i collapse.
finally i put a hand up in surrender and find an offer of help.
a promise that im ok and acceptable and "normal."

for so long i have been made to feel wrong for what i have thought and felt and knew to be myself.
it's been harmful generalizations and plagerized symbolism.

"weird."
"has issues."
"depressed."
"strange."
"insane."
"nuts."
"awkward."
and simply, "too much."

i will never forget the most valuable thing that has been resounding in my mind through evidence too apparent to ignore:
who you are is all about the people you surround yourself with.

taking a step back it pains me to realize that i have forever been surrounding myself with absolutely the wrong people.
anyone that would use these words in association with my person is not a friend, is not family, and is not a helpful energy to be around.

so now, at 29, i am finding that i have been buried beneath unresolved conflicts, feelings i was taught were wrong and to be ignored, and situations i was instructed to disassociate from.

so i go to see someone to talk to once a week.
ive been learning about adhd and the neurobiological aspects behind it.
and it's eye opening.

not even just that, but piecing together the domino effect of emotional scenarios i tucked away under various rugs, brushing crumbs and remnants into every possible corner...

i feel like there is so much necessary digging that needs to happen.
and yeah, sometimes the ground is hard and uncooperative.
sometimes you hit roots and rock and debris that dont want to budge.
sometimes there are creepy crawlies that make you scream like a small girl.
but to know what im digging for... to be able to see it within my grasp, just a few more feet to go...

i see this dirty face and dirty hands in a small puddle at my side.
it looks ugly and horrid and my hair's a mess and my eyes are bloodshot and my face just reads EXHAUSTED.

but i see what's been buried underneath for so long and i want to reach it.
letting go of all of these things that have stopped me from being who im meant to be is painful and taxing and hard and tiring.
some days i would rather ignore the work ahead of me and just settle.
but then again ive never really been one to quit.

being around the right people is inspiring.
creative, honest, REAL people, unashamed of struggle and issues and flaws....
it inspires me to find out what's really been buried underneath all this shit for so long- beyond the limited line of sight that i have.

i feel like the forces of nature are against me right now though.
the more i push and dig, the more shit floats to the surface and the more hiccups i have along the way.
suddenly the city wants permits for my giant hole and dirt mound and then comes the tedious chore of paperwork and fines to sort out.

but if i let every hiccup continue to hold me down like an ugly desk paperweight, ill be nothing more than fragmented bits of a greater whole.... a jigsaw puzzle with gaps and spaces because out of 500 pieces, only 423 are actually there.

i want to be able to step back and see the big picture one day.
to know i made it.
to know who i really am and what im really about.

yes, my muscles are sore, my mind is fried, and i look about as appealing as a corpse pre-morgue.
and yes, it's painful pulling up these roots.
the tearing sound of their grasp finally being let go from the earth they clung so tightly to is comparable to the horrified screams of war casualties.

but this shit... this muck... this debris... this glorified cover up... it doesnt belong there.
so as tired as i am, as much as i really want to ignore the work ahead of me, i have to keep going.
child-like curiosity for what's really there... to be able to hold it touch it and explore it...
i anticipate and crave and yearn for what i can barely see.

so thank you to the people i can call family and can call friends.
to the ears that listen and the mouths that speak.
to the arms that hug and the doors that open.
to the thinkers and dream chasers and the realest of real souls that are inspired and inspire.
youve given me a breath of air to fill these lungs to just push to the finish line however many miles off it really is.

and when i find out what's there... i cant wait to thank you some more.

Monday, April 8, 2013

i always put periods where they dont belong

everything feels completely futile worth desiring.
i want to retreat within my paper thin skin and hide.
hide as if its some metallic fortress able to keep me safe.
safe from the memory of your hands and lips and sight.

these gray ashes tarnish my skin to a point unrecognizable.
endless shame for feeling mere infatuation at the glimmer of a smile.
foolish, small girl i am for wandering down that road.
i am but a transparent image of nonsense and mistakes.

ill let you go fade into nightmarish remains of memories on playback.
ill let you go as my lungs collapse from the weight of screams i cant contain.
ill let my dirty hands and face come clean from endless streams.
i cant stop the speeds at which theyre falling.

burning hate wells up in my chest and behind my bloodshot eyes.
i said too little then and too much in the aftermath of it all.
a glutton for sweet talk and craft beer and promises of days after.
how shamelessly i flaunted myself in front of the blade for my slaughter.

easier to hide in the guilt and blame you piled in high mounds
hoping to escape the evidence of your murderous hands
your smug arrogance won the battle over my confused, weak mind
i was left to swallow the jagged remains of this bitter reality

ill let you go fade into nightmarish remains of memories i want to erase.
ill let you go as my voice grows hoarse from screams i cant silence.
these endless streams are all that will cleanse this dirty skin
and with it wash away the flashbacks of dim lighting and your demonic gaze

somewhere in the cobwebbed corners where ive been trying to escape
there's the plug to the drain and i can just let this all go away
i can watch it swirl in beautiful patterns and shapes and become less and less
til it's nothing but a residue i can easily wipe away


demon eyed nightmare

im never really sure how half of the things i say exit my mouth- good or bad.
today a story came out to someone that honestly i havent shared with anyone in about 8 months.
as it came out of my mouth and this person had a look of understanding and sadness for what happened, i shrugged it off as if it were really not a big deal.

but something hung around.
like some spirit not aware that it's time to move on and go on to the afterlife.
and it's been haunting me a little ever since.

i looked at his face again.
his beady, demon eyes.
and then relived a slight bit of the haze of a really uncomfortable situation.

i didnt get this person beat up.
i know where they work.
i know their schedule.
i know their name.
i have the means to get this person brutally hurt.

but i cant.
karma somehow rules my logic.

and im not one to hate ever.
but thinking about it now...
i really, really hate this person.
i dont know why i went and looked at his face again.
maybe i just wanted to make sure it really happened and i wasnt imagining it all.
but no.
those beady, demon-like, dark eyes.
that slimy, thin lipped grin.
that ugly, horrible person.

how easy it became a situation flipped on me.
how i got called out and bitched at for trying to stand up for myself and stand my ground in the line of fire.
and how easy you got off.
how many people i had at hand that wanted to kill you.
kill you bare handed.

i wish i screamed for help.
i mean shit, it was in my house.
my roommate was home.

i started fighting at the gym again after that.
you would be the last person to find a yes in my no.
and trust me, if i ever see you, i will hurl fistfuls of my disgusting vomit all over you.

one day maybe i will let go of this hate.
i hope maybe sharing the story again will help it go away for good.

so yeah, this horrible nightmare of a memory came out today so nonchalant and calm and as the day wore on, the dark scenes flashed in my subconscious.
maybe it needed to come out today though.
maybe today was the day i needed to start sharing it again and just let this fear and hate and anger out for good.

i mean- you lied, you deceived me with your bullshit sob story and valiant good nature, and you raped me.
sir, you raped me no matter how youd like to shift the blame on me.
no does not mean yes ever.

so the vague details are here.  the actual story is a bit much for a blog.
and no this isnt an attention ploy.
just a part of my story.
a part i need to just let out somewhere.
it's hard to say it to a human face.
so hopefully now, the images can start to go away.


more ramblings of an insomniac

sometimes i feel like it would be better to live inside my own head,
the cryptic subtext underlying every spoken word
is so unsatisfying and unhuman
gnawing at my warm flesh

my brain feels poisoned yet heavy like a solid oak table
encompassed in dim gray lighting
playing back scenes of past events
and im sitting down watching this movie

all the parts i dont like i have no means to pass by
no remote to skip ahead to the next scene
i relive the horror in endless repeat
my eyes are burning from the sight

and all my ears can hear admist the screams and ringing
is shattering from these broken dreams
that i clench within my greedy fist
wounding these tired, overworked hands

arms so heavy laden with weights i and i alone insist upon carrying
unnecessary gratifications i refuse to set down
these non-essentials bearing down on me
with every weary step pressing forward


Wednesday, April 3, 2013

insomniac ramblings

nap fail in my car post-work/pre-class turned into this monstrosity....

all i keep thinking is painfully exposed in patterns of right and wrong
carefully crafted assumptions make their way to the surface of my cerebral cortex
in line with what i know, doubt becomes the obvious solution
my drug of choice isnt available til after 10am
need to find a better way to cope with this reckless mix of emotions
a solid place to stand my ground in a battle not even worth finding
no point in choosing sides because it all ends up in the same place
arms around these knobby knees, head down watering the earth beneath me
sometimes i see right through this game you play and dont feel my time is worth these tests to take
but then i remember fragments of words spoken...
the passion of a few kisses feels like moments stolen
my battle lies in the dreamlike haze of watching our naked skin beneath the sheets
hearing racing pulses in place of gunshots
but both equally present the same opportunity for wounds and damage
fragile frame, this mess you made all because you cant silence the voices in your own brain
overassuming, disbelieving any positive advance, you call it scheming
cant see anything for what it may be
cant find the beauty in the storm impending
you give way and deprive your brain of the sleep it craves,
forcing it to run away with the abusive lover, your inner insane

Monday, April 1, 2013

it just is what it is

this concept i am struggling so hard to embrace is just letting life happen.
im used to structure and schedule, always having an end to the scattered pieces.
i struggle and fight so much from not knowing.

but so much beauty comes from waiting.
there's a subtle admiration of scenery and ... time to listen.
so much good can come from just listening.
listening to what is being said and not what you are only hearing.

of course the only analogy i can relate this to is baking.
but if you rush cupcakes, they are gooey and soggy and not at all what they are meant to be.
they take time.
if you stand at the oven just staring through that small window... time never passes and you hastily keep opening the door causing heat to escape, thus lengthening the time they need.

i dont know why i cant seem to get it some days.
why i just have this urge to know what is going to happen before it does.
maybe i fear the fall and the pain associated with it.

but in all honesty, sometimes you just have to jump.
jump and let go.
let the breeze take you where it may.
feel the wind beneath your outstretched arms and the warmth of sunlight on your face.
even just thinking about that creates the most amazing calm inside of me to a point where i can just close my eyes and...breathe...
no more tension.
no more fear.
no more hopeless defeat.
just weightless .... absorbed weightlessness.

some days it makes sense to me.
i dont fear the unknown or potential loss.
i can take the tiny moments that have occurred and love that they happened not expecting anything less or more.
it just is what it is.
it happened.
it was.
and it was beautiful.
other days, especially the sleepless ones, my brain races and scrambles and tries to piece together this imaginary puzzle. 
it makes shadows and shapes unbeknown to human kind creating a sense of worry.
these ungodly sharp images....
they haunt and harass.

so, it's time to again for this tired mind to jump.
to make the conscious effort to jump.
to let go of what i want and hope for and let life just be what it may.
to accept the little smiles that come.
they arent earned or deserved or wished or hoped.
they just are.
just little momentary smiles that came and may or may not happen again.
they are sentences in my vast and ever lengthening story.
and one day, if i continue to let life just do what it may and let the breeze carry me along with no resistance... no scrambling effort to dig my fingers into the pavement.... who knows... i may have a beautifully, exciting story to share.


the cyclical pattern of life is being made so aware to me right now.
the intertwining fabrics of each person.
how we all make this beautiful end result.
how each person is part of a specific pattern that if put anywhere else simply looks out of place.

i finally feel like im finding my niche and my place. 
i finally feel like i found the square on the quilt or my place in line with the hemline.
and for the first time in a long time i can say that i simply just feel at peace.

im understanding now that yes, i was so very frustrated before with where i was and where my life was or was not going. 
i was angry and fighting life and fate and time.
TIME.
the very thing i fought so hard for so long hit me like a ton of bricks today with logic.

if any of the things that led me to know were rushed, i wouldnt have been ready.
all those awful people i have encountered before and the bad scenarios i was in...
the brought me to here.
to let the breeze carry me.
and sometimes wind is violent and destructive.
sometimes it causes damage in moving things places.
but the breeze is moving me.
to a very different place.
a place that although so unfamiliar and new, feels exactly and perfectly like home.