s t a r r _ t h i s

Devastating

2009-10-20T23:11:00.000-07:00

I'm fuming, so mad, so upset. Like I could break a brick wall with my bare fists. You know I just put myself out there because why? To be understood, because that's whats wanted and that's what people say they need. So I do. And I realize, there's no (swears) use. They only hear you and yet they never turn a cover to understand you. Consideration, sympathy, empathy, gratitude, they don't understand those emotions and don't know how to give them. Better yet, they don't even know when it's appropriate to stop being the opposite of those things--the only feelings they do know how to give. The worse part is, these people, I've known them for several years now. Yet somehow they still don't get it. They never did and they never will apparently. It's so upsetting how you have to give up on someone after all that time just because they don't know how to feel a little. Anything, I ask for anything, and nothing is what I get.

Pieces

2009-09-12T22:13:00.000-07:00

Some people say you have to take the good with the bad. They say it's not worth crying over. They say that you'll be okay. They say not to worry. They say you will eventually move on. They say you can learn from your mistakes. They say you'll learn from your experience. They say everything happens for a reason. They say, they say, they say. Everyday I wonder what I'm doing. Reluctant to realize I'm probably the only one so apt to ask myself that question and not know what the answer is to follow. There are days when I ask myself if it's worth it. Other days I remind myself so immensely that it is. Then the days that follow where I'm positive it's not. And then I lose sight of myself and the circumstance. I then realize I am bias each day. The days I say it's not worth it and do nothing about it, are the days I think I can continue to put up with it-- that my heart won't feel anything if I did something about so I might as well do nothing about it-- I'm my strongest then. The days I say it is worth it and do nothing about it, are the days I think I'm weak because I can't manage to cough up the words to make my thoughts known of where things stand. A confusing cycle that, I only , knowingly and apparently, think about. I'm not strong. I'm weak because I can't talk about it. Because I keep it all in. I'm weak because I know I probably can move on with my life and I'm weak because I know I probably can't. Pieces, words, phrases, they don't make sense in my head and they don't make sense written. They say, they say, they say-- yet they, however, do not know.

Mask

2009-09-10T02:36:00.000-07:00

Everyone has something to hide. Everyone has a fear they're ashamed to show. Everyone has the human ability to feel embarrassed and yet they do whatever they can to cover that facet up.

Perdido

2009-09-10T02:05:00.000-07:00

It means lost. It's even read in the stars: "You're feeling a little lost today, and for good reason -- you're not getting the guidance you need! Unfortunately, that guidance is not forthcoming today, so try to find your way without a map." It's more as if I haven't gotten guidance in the past year. Writing now feels like a chore. I was so use to venting and creating words on paper that were nicer than the ones clouding my thoughts. I'm pushing myself to write this, at least it's something. So, I took a break this summer from school. It's doing me good. I don't think I would have done well if I continued. I needed a break. I'm honest when I say that I've lost motivation in many things. School has topped that list. I go to a great school though, that's without a doubt. My professors are the best in their league, the readings and the work usually entice me, and yet I still feel like I do my work because I have to and not because I want to. I know I sound irrational right now, but that's how it is. What's worse is that I've found remedies to get my brain working, and yet it causes me to sidetrack from my studies. I read things on my own that I enjoy, and yet could never pursue in school-- there's just no way, and that's where my reasoning plays in. I was always scared of the future and that, I know, makes me lose sight of the present. What will come? So many things have changed now that I believe there is less to lose but all that is left are the ones that really mattered. To note, it's not even the letting go or giving up that is the hardest part, it's the getting use to that aches me. As an example, old friends. I know everyone has drifted, I know I have moved on, but there are those occasional days when you wake up and you wonder why those people are not a part of your life anymore, you don't know why, but you do know that you miss them, and yet you can't reach out to them the same way you use to. You get caught in memories, in reminisces of the past, happy or sad. It makes a framework of what I have now and of what little there is left to lose. And how deafening it would be to lose everything I've accomplished thus far. It's a scary thought-- the future. I'm not sure I'm destined to know what's in store for me. Whatever that means.

Phone

2009-08-29T21:50:00.000-07:00

So what does it take to have to lie to someone to get off the phone? Let's just say he was 1. boring 2. naive 3. mean 4. vulgar. Any one of those things and I would have gotten off the phone anyway, but combined? What person puts up with that? Sadly, one girl: her. Well I took the weight off her shoulders for that one hour talking nonsense to a guy so deeply committed to being on his high horse. They both have problems and it drives me mad when they talk to me about it instead of one another. She wants to break up. He wants to break up. She doesn't say anything. He doesn't say anything. She waits. He waits. They are stuck. And I am the attentive, mutual, friend in the middle who hears both of their story and comes to the realization that they have problems they need to work out with themselves before committing them to a relationship. They are bounded by lies, deceit, anger, and pain. It's sad really to look at a relationship like that from the outside. I pity people stuck on another because they can't put one foot in front of the other, even when there is someone pushing them to. They want to be the victim, they want to be stuck, they want to be miserable, and so, they are. Too damn bad, if they chose to make the effort to stick to it instead of fixing it.

Hail

2009-06-16T03:49:00.000-07:00

I dreamt of Mexico last night. Why? I don't know. I was in Mexico and then there was hail. I was trying to get away from something and then there was just hail. I ducked. So I woke up and went to dreamdictionary.com to look it up. I quote, "Hail. To dream that you are caught in a hailstorm, suggests that you are emotionally withdrawn." You think? Oh and it goes on.. "Some situation beyond your control is causing you to shut down emotionally." No I wonder I can't even get the tears to come out or the words to choke up. Emotionally shut down, that's the perfect phrase when you think about it. There isn't much emotion left in me but to be okay, to be sufficient enough to meet suffice. It's not happiness, it's definitely not love, it's not anything for that matter. I feel empty and it's because I let myself get to the point that it's okay to be in a relationship that really isn't defined as one. It's a one sided -ship that I have chosen to ride, and to ride alone. And why? Because. Because I chose to keep the comfort and the familiarity that I've known for years. So that I wouldn't have to give it up. So that I could keep it on the side as long as he was keeping it on the side. It was never a priority so why should I make it one then? And that's what I did, I let it slip because he let it slip. This was never me, and I turned into something I never wanted to become. I turned into something I was running away from. It was fear and now the hail has come and I am to quote, "shut down". Perfect words for a non perfect relationship.

Essay

2009-06-07T03:40:00.000-07:00

10 pages, one topic. No writing skills necessary. Really. I feel like the creativity that I love about writing dissipates for my class. Oh and by the way, it's an English class. So why is this? They don't want fancy introductions or tall-tell tales of dragging on. "Get straight to the point" they say, no need for dillydally. So what's the point then? How many words are there in the Oxford English Dictionary? And how many languages are there to interpret a text or piece? Why does everything have to plain, banal? Those questions befall me when it comes to class and essays. They expect long essays of concrete context that is dense with material when the actual text or the meaning of the text they ask you to use is at about one page in length. This does not help. Classes don't help sometimes either. As a turnout, I'm falling behind in creativity. My own writing standards seemed to have vanished since the years of high school. English class, Mr. Russell-- now that was a class where I learned to write. I learned words too so look at that university level college crap. Nonetheless, I finished my 10 page paper that's due a week from today. Oh, and I'm so happy it's over with. Never again, I'm telling you.

Writing

2009-06-06T22:38:00.000-07:00

"I think you make him happy." His best friend, my yearbook, years ago.

Payback

2009-06-05T00:45:00.000-07:00

I was thinking of that word and I got chills, literally. And maybe because I'm listening to Placebo's new album. Payback is here. Take a look, it's all around you. Find a friend in whom you can confide. Anyway, my teeth hurt. Went to the ortho today and he pulled my wires back. Do you know how awful that feels? Hence, I can not even eat bread. So this is a tangent from payback but I was just thinking about the word. I'm almost done with school, I finished one final, 3 more to go. Study time.

Oreos

2009-05-25T21:31:00.000-07:00

I figure I get the normal sized oreos versus the mini ones. Grabbing for it I realized there were only double stuff oreos and reduced fat oreos to chose from. My philosophy: if I can eat more for the same amount of calories as the normal stuff, well grab the reduced fat. So I did. They taste the same. There's just less of that white stuff in the middle. And anyway, I only like the cookie part. So why the oreos in the first place? Well I figure food and depression go hand in hand.. no, food and anger.. no, food and disappointment.. no, food and jealousy? UGH. I can't even make up my mind about a damn stupid trivial definition. I know, it's a combination of all that bullsht. Oh, and you can't imagine just how hard I'm hitting these keys to type right now. Moving on. So this is what I found on a website. I quote. "Indeed, comfort foods -- which are almost always high in bad fats, sugar, salt or a combination of the three -- provide instant gratification and pleasant feelings (albeit often short-lived ones) 100 percent of the time you eat them." Okay let me translate. Indeed, men -- which are almost always successful in making you jealous, irritable, pissed the f off or a combination of the three -- provide instant gratification and pleasant feelings (albeit, always short-lived ones) 100 percent of the time they use you and you don't know it. Well, sometimes you know, you just let it happen anyway.So why hold on? Because you're a little lonely? You're a little desperate? You want to hold on and never let go? That's bullshit. And you just let your mind plays games with you thinking it's the other way around sometimes, that you're the one using, that you're the one playing the games. But it just isn't that way. And all this because a damn bag of oreos were purchased today. Eff.

Composure

2009-05-23T02:11:00.000-07:00

It's scary when you let yourself go. When you find things you thought you lost and then they have a power to bring back painful memories. But the memories, no matter how harsh, allow you to see how far you've come along-- how much you've actually recovered. How much you've grown, and how much you've moved on. When I saw all of them... I think I wanted it to hurt me, to hurt me in the present like it hurt me in the past. It would have been evidence that I still felt the same way. That I still had a crying passion, even if it was hate or sadness or disappointment, a sense of feeling regardless. But nothing. Tears rolled down because I couldn't feel what I wanted to. In the moment I realized it just doesn't matter anymore. Not even less than it use to, but at all. This was the end. This was it. Now I have nothing in the present to write about. Nothing is here to write about.

Lazarus

2009-05-12T01:38:00.001-07:00

"It's hard to see you again, now that you're back from the dead." I have to say.. the joy... the rapture... the ecstasy that I got elsewhere is not here. This is pointless and yet I go on waiting? And for what? Nothing's coming, I know that for a fact-- see, now that's reality, that's the bitter effing truth. And sometimes I have to say I'm glad. Because the people that use to be around me are awful people inside. A little part of me decays each time someone leaves. I'd rather have it decay then spread however-- their nothing pure, nothing short of deceiving, rotting, sons of bitches. And the most painful of one, is the one I'm most glad about for leaving. Everything will be better, later if not sooner--- but later, later will come. Some people are awful inside, torturous, manipulative, cheating, deceiving, lying... something I need nothing more of. I'm a handful to myself already, and I'm fine, treading alone because this is what I'm getting use to. And all that other stuff? The fakeness, the temporary moments, it's not real. They're not solid, just waiting to disappear. As far as I can tell, they already have. You already have. Nothing. Nothing to me.

Communication

2009-04-27T02:04:00.000-07:00

I use to think that I got too much of it. I had to listen, to everything. But now I know nothing, not one problem, not one feeling, not one thought. This lack of communication, of not knowing, it's what I asked for. It's what I got. I thought we were suppose to work on it. Do our parts to make it work. I mean that's what a friendship is right? But he and I, we don't have a relationship, we don't have a friendship... I don't know what we do have, but I don't like this anymore, not one bit.

Recovery

2009-04-15T00:53:00.000-07:00

So I found the document-- from high school. The letter I used against them. And yet I don't have the password to open the damn file. Great. I've been searching, I've even downloaded a password recovery software but nada, nothing, zilch. It'll come to me in time though. And I'm pretty sure that I'm going to be faced with how exactly I acted my senior year. Yes I was secretive and surreptitious, to the point where I rebelled against them. In any consolation, they started it and hid it, I found out about it, I did something about it, and I alone ended it.

Music

2009-03-29T22:29:00.000-07:00

[Random Information] My Favorite Music Artists/Bands: Death Cab for Cutie - Explosions in the Sky - Led Zeppelin - Placebo - Muse - My Chemical Romance - Taking Back Sunday - As of years now...

Carried

2009-03-26T17:01:00.000-07:00

He carries me all the time, like I weigh a feather or something. It's disturbing, but still cute nonetheless. He's here right now, but I think he's faking being asleep. His eyes are closed, his breathing is... oddly breath-taking. Can a guy actually look as perfect or even beautiful? Because I"m telling you, the word beautiful does not serve his looks any justice. Lucky for me he doens't have blue eyes to throw off our balance any more than his tall great statuesque figure already does. He has brown eyes though, kind of like honey but darker. Oh and what's worse? He's always here now. This is some getting use to. "Come here.. I want to tell you something". He beckons-- that's my call to stop writing for now.

Intrigue

2009-03-24T01:21:00.000-07:00

It's hopeless when you get attracted to something... someone... all over again. But this time its different, he's different, and everything about it feels different. My stomach fills with nothing less than butterflies and my heart, it pulses strikingly and even more than usual. The emotions I get is utter feeling, to their extremes. It was a want at first and now it's a need, and never a moment where it occurs less than that. The temptation I have now for him is surreal. Uncontrollable and unquestionable, he mesmerizes me. His voice, his laugh, his smile... the fact that his gestures are made only to enlighten me. He's visited me everyday now. It seems that the day I stopped looking for the right person, the perfect person came along. He was unexpected, he was more than I could ever imagine. And I felt him, he came to me and he never looked away from my eyes since. I knew he was looking for me, but he found me, and the time, the wait, the distance before that disappeared in that instant. He's simply, more, more than I ever had, could have. Whenever he talks to me, he holds me, whether through his arms or through his eyes he captures my attention and there is never an overpowering distraction to look away. The warmth we share when we're together in inexplicable. It's consuming and I don't care much for anything when he's not there. I've never found it so easy to fall asleep as much as it is when I'm around him. He waits, and I can feel his eyes look over me, watching me, protecting me. I woke up once and I was confounded to see him there to my rescue and in less than a lingering moment's time, I felt the smoothness of his hand cradle the sides of my face and my neck... he was there, I was safe. The past before this day did not matter and my future was only secure if he would be in it. But he promised me in that instant that he would remain there, here with me, always. I believe him. He's opened my eyes, he's made me complete, a complete I never knew I could feel. In an instant he brought me to a place, with my eyes closed he walked me and carried me there. There wasn't even an urge to look around, he was with me and that's what mattered. I can't bring myself to realize how much a person can intrigue another, but apparently it happens, and it's happening to me. He gives me life and I don't know how or why but he needs me just as much. What he and I have-- this is new, it's different, it's real, it's finally here.

La Vengeance

2009-03-11T22:30:00.000-07:00

Revenge is a dish best served cold. And once you get a glimpse of it, the smell, the touch, the consumption-- it all leaves your lips watering for more. Revenge is sweet, so they say, and so I hope is true.

Driving

2009-03-08T17:42:00.000-07:00

My mind was empty with the exception of one thought. And I was driving, not paying attention to streetlights either-- green? red? All these are things that were secondhand in that moment. I then begin to wander with that one thought. This one speck of light didn't help clear things up, it made everything a perspective from one person-- me. So how? And why? And what happened? Suddenly and unexpectedly. Because. I don't know. That's all the answers I can come up with. Life is already difficult, that other stuff need not be there, but it is, and it is uncontrollable, not caring who you are, just there to take it's toll. It made we want to get away, to disappear. When your driving, with no music, with the windows all rolled up, and it's you and the gas pedal and the quiet, and the road in front of you, you wonder how you got there. And you don't know how, and you don't know why, and you don't know what happened. Next think you know that emotion gets wrapped around aching your body and making a trail to your mind, and there's not just emotional pain but physical pain. Your mind aches with memories-- your heart aches with hurt. And they burst in the only way they can to let the thought and pain go, streams through your eyes, and you can't stop it just like you can't stop what happened to you.

Pausing

2009-02-24T22:02:00.000-08:00

How could I explain that the way I felt was actually better? How could he ever know what was going through my mind? Suddenly I understood the term visiting. I was in one place, he was in another, and he was only pausing. --I haven't been writing for a while, I've been busy, making my life that way. The more complicated I can make it with things to do, the less time I have to think. And the less time my heart has to feel broken. In light of that, I've been trying to do all I can with my life, school, work-- all aspects of time that I tweak to more use than moping. But there's been a few things I've caught on to realize but just as well, letting other things slip away. To answer my first question, I could never tell him I was actually better now. He would never know, and I couldn't tell him that he released me in two unexpecting but great ways. He broke up with me and second, he gave me the chance to find myself again. I was so lost in being so angry, anxious, jealous, upset that I forgot what it was to be happy with myself, and with him. Moments didn't have to be wrapped around emotions of tears or hate, it was simpler than that. I enjoy everything more. His hugs, his kisses, his hold on me. Just as much, my instincts are so irradicated that they know better. They know he'll never really be mine, ever. So it's okay that I let him hug me, kiss me, hold me, because that's all I can give back to him. I can't give him any more of me, my heart and my love are mine to keep and to keep safely. My love for him has grown, different than I ever imagined-- the love I have for him is of genuine respect, he let me see something I needed to see in myself and that was strength, strength to love myself unconditionally, strength to be able to love another with boundaries of reality, strength to move on. The thing is, I hate to look back and think this way when I'm trying so hard to push forward that I remember I was always there, however much I wanted to dwell on past memories each time I was with him, with each instance I was still there, with him. I was there to stay. But in the end, he really was just passing by, pausing his life to make an impact in mine, he was a visitor, someone meant to only pass by, and he did. And after that and before you knew it, he left.

Past Tense

2009-01-26T00:37:00.000-08:00

"He's not close to being anything to me and this is what's going to tear us apart. And if he's not going to do anything to keep me close to him, I'll be the one to tear this apart, at least faster anyway." -September 30, 2006.

30 Minutes

2009-01-24T16:28:00.000-08:00

I need 30 minutes right now to get myself together. This is suffocating me. 30 minutes. Replaced.

Moving

2009-01-24T14:21:00.000-08:00

Moving along. Moving on. I don't want to, but I have to. And I understand it's only the best and I'll be okay because he's okay. So this is me, writing not about the problems I have being in a relationship anymore. Instead, this is me being set aside from it, single, searching, waiting for love and a relationship and stability and security and hope in that one person that will be there for me, that one person my heart will be enough for.

Falling

2009-01-20T22:32:00.000-08:00

They use to stop. The tears. I use to hold them in for longer. At the end of the day, they are all waiting for me to burst, just so they can. I don't know what it is I'm missing, I want everything to be fine, to be okay. If anything was unfair in my life, I wouldn't say school or family or friends, just love. I'm empty right now, I can't tell if I have too many emotions or if I have none at all. I can't tell if there's a heart in me that's aching or if there's nothing there but a hole in my chest. Sometimes it feels numb and other times it feels like someone's stepping on it. Unimaginably, it does hurt and I don't care who believes that or not because I feel it, that something inside me telling me something's just not right. And the tears, they run because they have nowhere else to go and I'm not sure where they come from to begin with. It's all mixed, no true path, jumbled and endless. It starts with my nerves and memories and senses and I get lost and then I remember and then I miss and then I lose myself. Next thing you know, there's a burn that I notice starts trailing across my face in a single direction that splits into hundreds. My eyes can't do anything but feel it and see it. It feels the clump of emotion that it wants to release and it sees unclear, fogged with this unusual sense of water and salt and heat-- tears. Tears, they ache. It all aches. I know for a fact that I'm not happy, I'm so very unhappy if anything. But I miss everything and I have no clue what that is or use to be. One thing is for certain, as it always had been, I'm alone at the end of the day with one thing beside me, my tears.

Granted

2009-01-20T01:00:00.000-08:00

And so, I am reassessing the relationship I once had. Conclusively, I took him for granted. This is generally in my perspective and I'm not going to touch on whether or not he felt the same way, about me. It's a different issue and an entire entry in itself. These past couple of weeks have been dreaded. I get glimpses of hope that build up only to be shattered each time I think about him and then when I do actually see him. --- edit later, sleep deprivation is making my brain function worse.