Okay, I’m starting to really feel the anticipatory anxiety I always experience before I have to follow through with anything I’ve thrown myself in. Telling myself things like “you have a right to exist here, to move in this world and hold your ground, don’t turn away.”
I wish I could be more than sure about being capable for the job I’m going to begin. This just has to work out. I don’t want to be a mess the moment I screw something up this time. Something has to go right for once. I have to make it happen.
Distraction at the moment: I love playing this song on piano, I find it very calming.
It’s not moving fast enough
This patch of noise has a swagger of…
Blues in a sticky view
A dying mint sweet
Death to joy, I remember…
A love I’d never need
This loosened grasp of memories
Of strength most unconvincing
I don’t know what happened back then,
And don’t care what’s happened since
There is ice in my blood
A pure indifference, all is numb within
—
Work/orientation begins Monday at 7:45am. My mother’s helping me with my wardrobe (much appreciated). And….I’m not acknowledging my brothers presence as of Thanksgiving day. They came at me wrong and I am writing them off.
I don’t need anymore people in my life, let alone people who don’t and haven’t ever considered me and what I am.
It’s time I cut everyone out really. They’re no good for me, and vice versa…not with everything that’s happened. It can’t be the same.
During the holidays I get this sick feeling inside when hearing about all the hype over sales and buying stuff and how the crowds are expected to be massive at the stores.
I wish people we’re so materialistic. But maybe I’m putting it too simply.
The first time I celebrated Christmas was with my extended family; I saw my cousins open their presents, say the emptiest ‘thank you’ I’ve ever heard, then place them somewhere to be forgotten about.
I didn’t grow up celebrating Christmas or any holiday, but the one time I was invited to take part I decided to wrap the gifts I chose in paper I painted myself out of old paper store bags. I thought it would be something special to include, something that would be better appreciated outside of buying regular wrapping paper.
But when I saw them all open my gifts, display an ungrateful shine in their eyes, then crumble to pieces the paper I wrapped them in, after I’d mentioned how long I took to design and paint them….I told myself I would never be a part of this again. I don’t see the point in giving gifts or sharing my time with people who have gone over and done the tradition forever and have no problem treating my efforts as “just another thing”. That’s what gets me with the whole gift thing. They have everything and then some, but still want more and more. And I’ve gone my entire life without gifts on Christmas and don’t feel as if I’ve missed out on anything.
My expectations where probably too high. If I give a gift again during the holidays, let me make sure it’s to someone who I feel really appreciates the thought and actually needs what’s given. I guess none of it is my kind of thing though. I love giving gifts to people randomly, on a day they wouldn’t expect. Not on a day most people expect to receive things.
We’re all different…People are going to do what they want and I should do the same as well, even if it’s considered weird.
I want to give up. I don’t think I can talk about this anymore because it makes me sick. So I won’t say a word about these thoughts until I’m ready to do something about them. And I doubt that’s ever again going to mean therapy or medication.
I’m alone when I shouldn’t be. I’ve made all the friends I’ll ever make and they’ve all gone now and I’m incapable of making new ones…lol. People don’t stick around when it gets rough anyway, so screw them all. I don’t want to hear about others and all their friends anymore. At least they have people who aren’t family willing to put up with their existence. We all can’t be that fortunate.
Would rather just not be here to see another face. I got what I wanted. I feel apart. All there’s left now is to dissolve completely.
Conclude
The heat is moved
A village-taken out
You see how well things never work?
How weak we are in doubt?
We’re no safer in the light
Than when in dark and blind
The wrong will always cheat to win
Just wait, give it some time
You see, they let her climb this tree
They let her drop that rope
They’ll hold me here for years and years
Until I’m who lets go
Btw, I can’t stop listening to “Paper Planes” from M.I.A. I finally bought the album last weekend and I’m loving the music. Oh, “World Town” is another one, has a sick beat…
I have some new pieces of writing I’m actually excited about. I wish I could feel like this all the time, where ideas feel closer at hand and it’s not as if I’m stuck or empty of thoughts and creativity. Anyway, the first short poem below is about the disappointment I’ve felt I am to my mother…
You didn’t know.
I buried my wings long ago.
Your unexpected,
Over blessed baby girl
You should have let me die
I’m not getting this thing right
Now pieces of a painful break
These days shrinking my lungs
Sameness always in front
My cheaply glues illusion
All I owe bleeds the night to
One guilt imposing sun rise
I’m sorry when you hug me
I am numb from skin to soul
All these years have never been.
And I’ve nothing to show.
The second one here probably explains itself, being more about the way others close to you tend to brush aside what they see and hear and not take it seriously when they probably should. And about how what they do finally realize about you messing up their world, you becoming their new frustration…But even that interpretation comes weeks after I actually finished it, so take it however you want.
For the Truth
I don’t regret this
Broken stare, and
I won’t forget,
I taste them tearing open
Appalled at my whole life
Those feel of words that flash across your eye
They say to think I’m wrong is right
But still you want into my mind
Yet you’re so scared to see
The changing shades within the haze
You still cannot believe just how
Sick my world is leaning
And as any other fool, not knowing what they do
My darkened presence you’ve excused as weightless
Consuming so few; a spell of common sorrow
—don’t we all go through?
With my fresh wounds
Bright above their blue
Be free and hate me
Better for the truth
I’ve finally found the piano solo version of Breathe No More by Evanescence. Click on it below, turn your speakers up and forget the visuals, just listen to how beautiful this song is and tell me I’m not crazy for being such a fan….lol.
I’m coasting along. Incredibly empty. I haven’t gotten sleep. No one’s listening to me.
Puts me back into my past, in school, with a mind right in between snapping on everyone around me or running away somewhere expecting death to meet me at whichever direction.
People talk a lot and wish and pray, but it never feels real when it actually happens. When what you’ve been asking for happens….No body is going to be after me or hoping for me and my future if I’m not.
Whatever…
My brother’s idiot behavior got his car stolen last night…As my mother says, that’s “life in the big city…”
I hate the players and I hate the game. There’s people actually believing the 2012 hype and all I can say is it seems too good to be true. The end of the world, so soon? Yeah, too good–that’s how you know it’s not going to happen…lol.
But I do still hope I’m wrong.
How Long Ago
Run the music, run the words
Calculate my end
My simple complication
Just as silent, just as dead
To live with scattered memory
And bring nothing to close
Fragrant of both failure and loss
To live sorry, to grieve their cost
There are many among us
I am one to get rid of,
When all is cold and without hope
To talk me away from
I’ve seen the limbs, I’ve passed the bridge
I dream the cliffs of high
And no one asks that I save myself
How long ago I’ve died
Pieces of voice and vision
I’m a decorated lie
Shut me out forever
I am the other side
Its see through skin is so cheap
Of hollow promise and belief
Nothing about this keeps me
They are never as alone,
It’s not worth my questions and
Never worth the pain
But I still hurt and hold you high
And bleed you all the same
While dreaming bits of a third eye
From window’s veil of dying light
This going glow- as each scar line
Is softly swept aside
When the art suffers and there are no words to express, or even thoughts/feelings to need words to express…I think I’m done. I don’t want words or paint because I’m useless to them. I don’t know what to do with these things anymore. I’ve done all I can do. It’s all trash, from here on.
It’s placed at the end of eternity
But the fearful ones try anyway
A faithful reaching done in vain
Their lives that could be, grossly hang
From this old sage, the ancient tree
Thriving ludicrous philosophies
The marked fools are all in line
Dream-full, in their prime and picked to die
I am a distant witness
My excitement keeps me kind
For what each breath may, or not, mean
They still will not ask why, and
I hear the moonlight weep
For all those bodies squashed beneath
The hollow voices of ripened souls
Down this devil’s throat
One of those days I understand too well why I have no friends.
Posted in Art with tags Art, family, Thoughts on November 4, 2009 by imaginaryfears
A painting for my mother…
Went to a volunteer interview today. I’m actually very excited about the department I’ll be assigned (hopefully) a position. The collection and research part of this massive and extremely impressive museum in my city. It’s the perfect distraction from the nowhere my life is going and I’ll learn some new skills about something I’m interested in. Anyway, I won’t speak about everything else that’s been going on for fear of it falling apart before it even gets started….I’m trying to keep myself balanced. Don’t get too high on hope and don’t sink all the way just yet. And for that, I’m ready for whatever happens. If the door opens I’m going through it no matter what, and if not–well I’ve got a good fix for that too.
