crazy

Do me a favor and don’t reply.

He wasn’t a character I normally liked. Then again, I fall in love with people so fast it’s almost a joke. A slight change in the weather, a smile in September; before I know it, I am hooked.

I knew it wasn’t love, it was nothing like it. He had a way of making butterflies flutter out of the dark caves of my soul, and I liked it. I had closed myself off of male attention for so long, that any attention made my heart skip a beat. The more I tried to place him, the further he would get away. I wait too long for people that don’t exist. He was no exception. When you wait too long for things to happen, you start making up stories in your mind. Maybe thats what this all was. My crazy mind getting the best of me.

I am crazy. I am absolutely crazy. I know nothing about him, but I can’t stop thinking about him.  This is how crazy people think, right? This is how it starts when your mind starts to go? I can’t stop myself. I find myself jumping right back in, after I promised myself I would keep myself 10 steps back. Here I am standing on the ledge between reality and make believe. I am a rational person. I am crazy but I am not bat-shit crazy. I know the difference between whats right and whats completely stupid/foolish/wrong for me?

Here I am standing in front of the man that could possible change my whole life. The man that ignited the spark after the years of broken solitude and sadness.

I can’t help but look at him.

Boy, is he something. It was a spark, a break in the melody that I would die to hear on constant repeat. A drum beat that kept my heart in constant motion.

I should have known better. Should have seen all the red flags, paid absolute attention to all the signs, but I didn’t. You never know who you will open yourself up too. Never know who your heart will decide gets the keeping. I am crazy to think that stupid sparks mean something. Including when everything feels one sided.

I always end up the girl in the pretty dress that cries at the end of the story. The girl that makes up all these weird scenarios of “what if” and breaks her own foolish heart in the end.

But maybe this was different.

I mean. Why else did he keep coming back?

“I just need to be alone for a while”

Of course he does. He wants to put an end to the narrative that hasn’t even started. Everybody needs to be alone for a while. But nobody really wants to be alone, right?

I feel myself screaming on the inside.

“Give me a chance. Choose me! Look at me!”

Now I am sitting in the pretty dress, wondering what I did wrong. If I did anything wrong at all. If my crazy fucked up mind got the best of my reality.

Why is it when shit starts to get real, men just want to back track. Like they weren’t hitting you up at all hours of the night. Like they weren’t asking all these personal questions, pretending to be invested. Only to need to be alone.

“You understand what I mean right? You’re alone”

Ouch.

I seem to bring that out of men. This breath of honesty that men can’t help but exhale out, and I can’t help but inhale in. He just happened to be no exception. It becomes natural for men to be so brutally honest with me, like we are the best of friends. That talking with me is like talking with one of their bros. I wonder if thats what they think of me. Just one of their bros, their friends, their buddies. After a while, I don’t know who to blame anymore. Is it my fault for being quiet about how I feel? Or their fault for assuming I am no different then they are.

Its been months since we’ve talked but I couldn’t rid him from my brain. I keep replaying the same image of us. Me the dreamer, him the realist. Me, believing that he would see through my armor. He, just feeling this need to be alone. I knew it was a lost cause. I knew deep down inside that everything was a no-go. But curiosity got the best of me. Because why are people that are not meant to be together, keep coming back together again. Even if it means nothing, why did the spark hit me like a lightening bolt?

It had to mean something.

Then the water works start to form. I become the girl I have come to know and fear and hate and just can’t stop myself from becoming. What in the fuck is wrong with me that men feel the need to be alone to find themselves. That I am some sort of stop on the way to their destiny. Are they aware that the manic-pixie dream girl died for men years ago; that we as females can be the heroes of our own story??

I don’t want to be the girl that got away.
I don’t want to be the girl you marry at the end of the day.
What in the fuck is wrong with the “right now”?

This “alone” time ends up being everyone else but me.

I start seeing images of him with someone new, every few weeks. I am not a factor in his mind until it doesn’t work out. Then like clockwork, he comes back. Maybe a second look would do the trick. Maybe, I am what they want in the long run, but just not right now. Not right away.

Meanwhile I sit here, miserable. Asking myself, what did I do wrong?

Everybody wants everybody else.
Someone prettier with their shit together.
Someone thinner.
Someone imperfectly perfect to their own liking.
Is it too much to want the same thing everyone else wants?

Seriously, why the fuck not me?

Yeah you go ahead, be by yourself.

Me too, dude. Me too.

Oakland, CA. 2013

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Thinkin bout you.

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I should have let you go a thousand days ago. Back to where you came from. Back to where you belong. If I close my eyes, I still see you. I still see the same episodes and replay these images as if they had happened yesterday.

Hit replay.
Hit pause.
Start it all over again.

I could never understand how a mind could become emotionally invested in something that isn’t there. Because you don’t see me, when all I do is see you. Why do we have to analyze everything? Why do we have to obsess over all the tiny details? Why do we care so much, when others care so little. If people are not meant to be in our lives, why do we obsess about them at all?

I can’t turn my mind off for the life of me. I replay these images and think about these thoughts, while thinking about you. I know I shouldn’t. It’s all a silly game our minds play that continue to play tricks on us. Because people in my mind are better then they really are in real life. These illusions we play with that pry on our vulnerabilities and existence. I give into it. I let it all go. Knowing very well I should have let you go a thousand days ago.

I am just another girl thinking about, all the insignificant consistencies of bullshit necessesites. I want to pretend that stupid signs mean everything. That everything means something. But it doesn’t. Instead I grow crazy just wondering if its all in my head.

It is.

But I can’t stop thinking about you. And I know I should have let you go a thousand days ago. I know I should have, but I didn’t. Now I drive myself crazy with these thoughts of you. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself. I know I should stop, but I can’t get my mind to stop.

Do you think about me still?

Do you?

What it feels like for a girl.

Don’t think about it.
Don’t think about it.
Whatever you do, do not think about it.

What do I do? Of course, I think about it. It’s in my nature to think of everything. Everything I am afraid of. Everything I am running away from. Everything I said I wouldn’t think about. The more you think about it, the more you won’t be able to let go of it. Here I am thinking of every single detail. Every single insignificant thing, that makes no difference weeks later. I don’t know why I do it, but it’s driving me insane. Replaying moments that happened yesterday and analyzing things to see why I continue to do this to myself.

Do I bring this out of people?
Is there something wrong with me?
Am I really that awkward?

Its these insecurities that get the best of me. I am driving myself insane by overanalyzing everything, I can’t get my mind to stop thinking about. Every single moment is an episode that I can’t help but replay, over and over again. Dissecting words, going over every minor detail, and thinking of new ways to make things seem better. Because every word that comes out is wrong. Every thing I do or say, is always wrong. I can’t help myself. Is it me? Is it you? Is it the whole universe?  Am I just driving myself crazy? How am I suppose to act when I feel like I am tearing everything apart. It’s been so long since I’ve had interaction with people, perhaps I am a little rusty. I find myself fidgeting more than normal and I can’t help but feel even more nervous than before. This is perfectly normally right?

Right?

I am not crazy, but I sure as hell feel crazy. I can’t stop my mind from asking myself:

Did I say something stupid?
Did I say too much, or nothing at all?
Did I do something to make you believe something else?

People have a way of making you feel completely differently than how you normally are. How can I be so guarded when all I want is to tell my stories to everyone? And yet, words comes out like word vomit and I am saying everything that I don’t normally say. I don’t know how to act when I am around you. Have I always been like this? Do I normally act like this? There is always a part of me that believes I will never be good enough. These stupid insecurities that eat a way at my self confidence and drive me absolutely insane. If I had wore something different. If I had said everything I wanted to say. If I had looked a certain way, maybe I would feel less crazy. This is what it feels like for a girl. At least for me, and it’s absolute madness.

NO.
Stop that. None of that matters.

People who want to know you will keep the conversation going. Life may seem like one big popularity contest, but the right people will always find you. No matter what you wear, say, or do. No matter what you do, these little crazy feelings will always follow. We can’t help ourselves. Sometimes things work out, often times they don’t. But when they do, they are worth every moment. You can drive yourself crazy or keep moving forward. I think I will keep moving forward.

 

4/12/2016

18 forever.

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I want to remember people how they were. The exact image they portrayed, very long ago in a nostalgic paradise. Where time stood still and you remained in your pristine condition.  If only photographs could talk, would I be able to point you out completely. Storytelling is far to good to tell, then by photographic memory.

That’s where I keep you.

Locked away in the vaults of my memory. Hidden in the crevices of my brain, locked away under stories and memories. It doesn’t matter what I do, I continue to search for you. Across the country, across the state, across the faces of the people I loved. Maybe it has always been you. Maybe it was this illusion of staying in one place or coming back home to something. It didn’t matter. People will scan across these words thinking its about a specific person and it’s not. Sometimes there’s that one person you want to forget but you keep being reminded of. Sometimes you want to keep stories personal, and as you get older you can’t keep things to yourself anymore.

I watch buildings change. I watch people grow up. I look at places that meant the world to me, go through different variations of themselves that they become nonexistent. I watch the cities I spent my youth in become gentrified garbage, instead of the kitschy places they used to be. I love the nostalgia, I love the stories, and I know they can’t go on forever. Buildings change, people grow up, and even people we once loved have a reality. Sometimes I think I love you, and then I become the 18 year old with bold expectations. Now a days it’s just a silly notion of my youth. Silly memories of never wanting to grow up. Staying up all night, looking up at the stars, and wishing to be in bigger cities with the people that meant the most to you.

You have become different heroic expectations in many aspects of my stories. Lingering in and out of my mind, coming and going just as you please. Some days I want badly to hate you, but I can’t. Other times I just wished you never existed. Deep down a part of me knows that I am officially crazy. The person I believe you to be and the person you really are, are two different people. This image I keep of you doesn’t exist to anyone else but myself. I feel crazy to even believe who I think you are. The thing with fantasies is that people’s realities are far to realistic. To know who you truly are in reality, kills the dream I have conjured up in my mind. You existed to me. Even if no one believes me. Every hero I write is based on stories of the past and the person I believed you to be. But the past is the past, I can’t keep searching for you in faces of people that no longer exist. I can’t keep holding a candle to a person that is kept only in stories of a nostalgic paradise. When you grow up, you have to let go of the things you once loved. Making way for new memories and journeys, new loves and expectations. Maybe I will always be just jealous cause we’re young and in love, but I have to grow up some time.

18-year-olds grow up to be 33-year-olds. Even you had to grow up some time. You’ll always be the hero at the end of every one of my stories.

Always.

10.22.2013

9/6/15 – Day Twenty.

I gave myself a break. Where I didn’t think about anything with the exception of what is in front of me. Something simple. Something sweet, anything to occupy my time away from these thoughts. How do you explain that one day you woke up hating everyone and their existence? That words from everyone close to you, make you shudder and shut down. Or that you can’t explain this need to be alone but you need to be. Why can’t words match what you feel in your heart?

People already think I am crazy, what’s more insanity with a little more misunderstanding. I don’t blame them for thinking that way, they’re only thinking what they can’t understand. I feel so misunderstood lately, that no one really understands me.  Not that it matters. I just don’t feel like painting my face like everyone else, when its not how I feel. I can’t force a smile when those are not the feelings I feel inside. Explaining yourself when you’ve run out of words to say. Its easier to talk about the weather, than say exactly whats wrong.

Half of the time I am not even sure whats wrong, and I am not sure I even want to say how I feel. But today I moved back from those feelings and washed those feelings right out of me. After a few days of living in my filth and not wanting to release these feelings, I am ready to start. Clean, brand new. Find new dreams and polish off the old dreams. Everything else just give it time to regroup itself. Through marathons of old shows and starting over with new shows. I watch what I love and what I fear, keep time with itself. Slowly coming in, side by side. I know I can’t hide from the world. I know I can’t pretend this isn’t happening. What I love and what I fear, will eventually walk side by side. Its then that I’ll admit that this pure fear is knowing that being alone is my burden and my strength. Every day I get closer to overshadowing my fears. I feel myself getting stronger. I feel myself getting better.  But everyone thinks I am crazy. That I have always been the crazy one.

It’s just hard to make someone understand, what they’ll never understand at all.

In the lonely hour.

I lie awake between when the hours turn from PM to AM, thinking, wondering, pondering, inviting. All these thoughts in all their splendored glory. These images of reality mixed in with make believe. Heroes, saints, villains and sinners, everywhere and in-between. When you feel that hope has lost, you reach out for a connection. Reach out to feel something, anything from this wretched feeling that you have consumed yourself with. It aches in your soul straight through to your heart. From the moment you tap your fingertips against your chest, waiting for something to revive you from this feeling.

I need someone, That I’ll look to,
In the lonely hour, That we all go through

There are things you do when you’re lonely that you would never do with a sane mind. Your mind and judgement turn off, you roam the world as an insane person would. You enclose yourself to all this loneliness. Believing the wrong people, trusting the sinners, and knowing very well that every last bit of this is wrong. Its this hurt that is eating up your insides. This sickening pain that you want to drown out to feel whole again. You trust these people because you have nothing left to give. At any given moment, someone will come save your from yourself. Save you from these feelings that you’ve become so clouded with. These illusions that letting the right one in would be your salvation. Bring forth the one person that will save me from this loneliness. Bring forth the person that will in turn save me from myself.

I need someone, That I’ll look to,
In the lonely hour, I need you

All it takes is one person to save us from ourselves. One person to turn all the dark clouds into sunlight that illuminates our path to salvation. We all need a little help sometimes. One person to dry the tears and sweep us off our feet. We believe in words before we believe in actions. All it takes is 3 words and 8 letters to bring you back to life. 3 words and 8 letters to show that you mean something to someone. You could take everything away from my life. Take away all the material things. Take away all the glamour of this life. The only thing that I want in this life is someone to take away all this loneliness. All I need is you, not someone like you.

When there’s a wistful silence, In an empty room,
These other voice’s, They don’t cut through,
In the lonely hour, I need you

I’ve spent nights believing in this knight that would come and save me from myself. That would wipe away the tears from the lovers prior and erase all the scars from my own self destruction. I’ve waited and in return let these legions of broken people consume my time and affection. It’s not love because love wouldn’t hurt this much. Love wouldn’t allow this feeling to continue to last. I just need this pain to stop this hurt inside my heart. Stop this ache that I feel in my chest, deep down to my soul. I can’t keep reaching out to a person that doesn’t exist. Realizing that I don’t need anyone to save me from myself. I just need to rely on me. In this lonely hour, I can’t help myself. In the lonely hour, I need you.

I need you.

6/14/2011

In my head.

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It’s only in my head.

There’s this thing I have where my mind doesn’t shut up. Where it wants to think about every single little thing and maximize it to the 100th power. I can’t control it. Once it starts, it can’t stop. I take meaningless ideas and turns them into masterpiece theater. The emotional damage just a single thought could do, ruins everything I could think about. It’s paranoia. It’s putting too much power into something that is clearly nothing. I just can’t stop it.

I try to think about rainbows
When it gets bad
You got to think about something
To keep from going mad

Its when you’re alone with your thoughts that you can’t help but find all the wrong things. Alone with these images that cause you nothing but insane madness. Maybe it is my fault. Maybe this is the reason everyone hates me. Maybe if I had said something different I could understand whats wrong with me. At the end of the day everything is my fault. I am the reason for all this misery, I am the reason why people don’t have a problem leaving. Its this never ending constant bickering in my head. But it’s only in my head right?

Only in my head.

I am going mad. I am keeping myself awake thinking of the past. Thinking of every passing moment and the chaos that comes with it. I am the cause to all my own problems. I am nitpicking every little thing and can’t stop and let things go. I say all the wrong things at the wrong times and turn around do the opposite. Making myself sick with these thoughts that seem to come at all the wrong times. I am making people out to be the monsters under my bed. I am driving myself insane making assumptions out of nothing. Who are these people that are more self righteous than the rest of us? Who are we to believe in the lies they tell us? I just believe everything I want to believe and pick out the wrongs in everything. I drive myself crazy and give myself these thoughts.

In my head
It’s only in my head

Maybe I am crazy. Maybe at the end of the day we are all a little insane. I just can’t stop these never ending thoughts. Am I doing all these things wrong? Am I the cause to all my problems? Have I missed my chance making all these mistakes? I am tired of thinking this way. Tired of keeping myself up at night with these thoughts that feel never ending. I don’t want to miss people anymore. I don’t want to think about all the things I have done wrong. I can’t control people’s actions and I sure as hell can’t control my reactions. Why should I be punished for my wrongs and left with these never ending constant thoughts? I am tired of the countless apologies I make up in my mind. I am tired of going over situations and believing I did any of this wrong. Maybe I am crazy but I am only fucking human. I make mistakes just like the rest of us.

Cause everybody wants everybody else

What does it matter. Why should I fucking care so much? Putting all this energy into meaningless bullshit that no one else cares about. At the end of the day I can change. I can change and be anything I want to be. But its when I come home and lay my head down at night, that I can’t escape these thoughts. They’re only in my head, only in my head right?