Crazy times

I have been so so busy. No time to do anything. There have been some major changes I cannot wait to share... Soon!!!

Ta ta toodles!!!

Rifling Through the Years

After spending a very long, while also too short, weekend with several remarkable writers, poets, musicians and alcohol enthusiasts, I find myself filled with trepidation. It's a small crime, but I have no defense. I am sure I took more from the weekend than any of them may ever realize.

Am I Losing You, or Are You Lost

I woke and you were no longer there. The faint sound of turmoil lingering throughout the air. Mistakes made in weakness. Anger created in haste. Life without ever really living. Love without ever giving. I have let you go only to find that you were never really there. Always, you were lost. Always...

I'm Not Amber

Too often we find ourselves in someone else, lost. Our dreams get covered in a blanket of life, others wants fill up our cup and the next thing you know we are living someone else dream. No longer who we were, caught in a web of wrong turns, compromises and self defeat.

Passion

I find myself without reason, without that one thing that fuels a person. I have no passion. I do not mean it in the sense of intimacy, that is something completely separate. I mean I have nothing in my life that I am personally passionate about. I have nothing that I just cannot wait to do. Nothing that overtakes my thoughts, my dreams, my life. I have nothing that creates a smile on my face by just its thought, or that makes my stomach feel weightless when just a mention of my passion comes from someones lips. I am passionless.

Feeling the burn!

False affection given by a disguise

My most resent attempt at letting my soul flow, still this was months back. However, I was very proud to have been able to feel creative, to let it all out. I am healing.

Via the Insignificant


Indifference, interwoven by means of flawlessness
Moonlight flickers throughout,
Aching represents lingering, redress
Constructing, established, as well with out.

Consider I am useless, vacant of implication
Circling inside an absolute rage of inner hatred
Vengeance of identity full of starvation
This instance of leaving myself instead

Underneath the gradation of resistance
Slumbers a being, significant,
Anxious nevertheless the distance,
Amused via the insignificant.

In anticipation of you perceiving
Articulation of self control
Remaining, while you’re thieving
Awkwardly grasping my soul.

Self deceiving, you are unbelieving
Of my face, my name, my word
Within the atrocious heaving,
Absent, only, beyond, uncured.

Underneath the gradation of resistance
Slumbers a being, significant,
Anxious nevertheless the distance,
Amused via the insignificant.

Staring into our exsistance, inadequate
Imperfection of dusk, wavers once more.
Lacking nothing, while completely abate
Recognize, rather than the end, I implore

Painting life as a representation,
Entertainment through the superficial
Damaged inventory of sensations,
Acknowledged barely by the artificial.

Underneath the gradation of resistance
Slumbers a being, significant,
Anxious nevertheless the distance,
Still amused, via the insignificant

Keep breathing

A random writing, or ranting...


I have heard a thousand times, at least, that you cannot have two opposing feelings at the same time. I have, at least a thousand. I have heard that you cannot begin, until you are willing to let go. I have also heard that each ending is a new beginning. Everyone tells you that there is this, or there is that, but until you are there you will never really know.

I am so scared. I am so happy. I am searching for a way that things do not have end, in order for this new to begin. I am gripping on to you, realizing that you were never really there. That is what is most frightful for me, the knowing that I held on for so long to nothing. I am searching way deep inside of me now, wondering do I really know how to connect? Am I really able to recreate what I thought I had, but actually have it this time?

I never really had a best friend. This is something that is new to me as well. I realize that the connections I made were made only for the reason to have them. I never let anyone in; they will just leave me in the end. So I let them in just enough to make them think they know me, the truth is I am not really sure anyone ever could.

I have had moments, I have had the thought that I would, should, or could change this. I realize that I cannot, will not, or maybe I just should not. It is like there is this constant argument going on inside of my head. I want to know someone and have them know me in return. I should let someone hear about my hopes and dreams, but I should not let them know why I am dreaming these things. I would let someone love me, but would only let them know the piece of me that is willing to let them go.

Growing

I am so much more than you may have really realized, I know that you may have recognized that, but you did not appreciate it. I am easily hurt by the few that I choose to love, you took advantage of that. You made me have faith in your words, you prepared me to be amazed. You said trust me, I will prove you wrong. I did...

I am not imprudent. I am effortlessly able to consider all aspects. I knew we would not be uncomplicated, painless or straightforward. I was willing and eager to break apart the walls that stood amid our capacity to endure.As well, I was sensitive to the notion that I was not unaccompanied.

Nonetheless, you have taken all that we were, and made it nothing. Your ability to do naught is preposterous in my eyes.
The most astonishing ingredient in true love is the fight, the ability and want to fight, the need to fight and change and grow and love still, and still...

So, so what I suppose...
So, you ruined me...
I have been ruined before.

Your compromise, isn't one...
Your version of what is real, is exactly that...
Your rendering.

I have and will, say things I do and don't mean...
I can and cannot change that.
Just as you have felt, what you no longer see...
A piece of me worth something, now nothing to you.


For just a moment, I want to thank you. For making me believe I was valuable, and extraordinary, and amazing, for a moment...
I am sorry I was not enough for you.

The young me

When I was young, I loved to write. Most the writing was teenage angst, but at least I wrote. As I grew older, I stopped. I believed that I had no future in my rambling. So my writings became ash. I have one poem that I wrote that stuck with me throughout all the years. And here it is...

MURDER ME

Murder me. Put me to rest.
Because you know, that you are the best.
Slowly thrust, and slowly slide,
that thing you have, way deep inside.
Move it around, make it feel good.
That's the way it should feel, and you're the only one that could,
Do everything the way it should be,
My life, my death, so murder me.

So yeah, I know it is a bit much for a fourteen year old to be writing. It stuck with me though, throughout all these years. It may have been that I plastered it across my brother's bedroom wall. It could have been because it was the first time I felt I wrote something I had not read before. More importantly, it may have been because I now realize I was the only one capable of burying myself. There is the bit of eroticism (a lot), but it was about no one. It was and is about me. The ultimate power I have over myself to be happy, naughty, out spoken, or even more so, the power I have to ruin it all by not.

I wanna dance

I love being alone. It has become the highlight of my day. I sometimes will send hours by myself thinking, sometimes about absolutely nothing, sometimes about absolutely everything. I really have a hard time understanding peoples obsession with having someone in their life to share it with. I just keep thinking why the hell would anyone want that? I think I am a pretty amazing and educated person, why would I want someone around that is going to eventually argue with my beliefs, my view points and ultimately the person I am. That in no way sounds like a life I would like to live.
I remember when I had all these dreams, they were larger than life itself. I planned on doing everything anyone I knew planned on doing. Only I would do it better. Never really realized what exactly my dreams where though by following the dreams of everyone else. I lost my way. When I am alone though, it feels as if I actually can sort through the what, where, when, why and how of all of these dreams. I feel like I am slowly weeding out you and finding me once again. It makes me wanna dance.

In my new hammock

I have decided to try something new, so here I am. I need a way to feel at peace, a way to let go, to live and breath in the easiest way that I know how... Through writing. On and off again throughout life I have lost and found myself. It has been one giant game of hide and seek. Sometimes I find myself real easily, just behind a door. The other times it is much harder, I am in the bottom of a whole that is dark and terrifying. I need the light, I need to be free. My needs have brought me here, to you.