new beginnings

Shake it out.

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I should have written this a long time ago. The minute my heart changed, and we went our separate ways. Like a broken record, I yearn for the tragic melodies of yesterday. The pain that cuts you straight down to the core. Bleeding through your veins and making your heart beat faster. I love the hurt, I need the pain. This sick desire for self destruction never leaves. But at this moment it has started to escape me.

You can take everything you want from this. Every letter, every word, every sentence, every verb. Everything. Let it manifest itself into what you want to believe. Because if I cared even an ounce about you, I wouldn’t feel the need to rid myself of you.

I do not break for you.
I do not cry for you.
I do not love who or what I believed you were.

You’re the needle that scratches my record player, wanting to hear only my favorite song. At this moment, everything sounds differently now. Even you look different now. The past always stays in the past, no matter how many times a ghost haunts you. The ghost lingers then drifts away, just around the same time the melody ends. Ending with the memories, ending with the sadness and all the tears.

Its through this pain that I thought a million things about you.

I thought I loved you.
I thought I missed you.
I thought I would self-destruct without you.

Thinking only leads to dreams that never truly existed. An end to our story. Waking from the blissful dreams into our badly lit reality. Its then we find ourselves back at the start. Back to the beginning.

Scratch that.

We can’t take things back to the start. We have maxed out our ideas of new beginnings. What’s done is done and every girl after me is just filler space. Because men like you hate the voided vacancy of present tense.

I will shake you out from underneath my skin. Out from every inch of my bones, into the dusty mist where you belong. Because I am doing just fine without you. Every night is another night to forget you. I watch as memories turn to dust and leave behind all these scattered thoughts about you.

I am doing just fine.
I am doing just fine.
Just you wait and see.

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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?

A bunch of broken parts..

and I can’t seem to find your heart.

It’s always the broken people you can’t forget. The ones so haunted by the past that no matter what they do, they can’t bring themselves to put themselves back together again. How easy for people to forget and turn off their emotions. Just pretend nothing and no one exists, and continue on their days as if nothing has happened. These people were never real to begin with and no matter how many times you try to reach them, they are never there.

I keep knocking on wood, hoping there’s a real boy inside.

Were you ever real? Were you ever truly broken? I have a hard time separating fact from fiction. The more I think about the past, the more I romanticize this nostalgia. Who you were when you’re broken isn’t the person you turned out to be. And yet, I can’t help but keep running back to these broken people. With their hearts on their sleeves, punch drunk off love. Feeling the emotions, I can’t feel anymore.

Could you ever be a real, real boy.

You feel everything then nothing. Then like clockwork you turn off those emotions that made you bold to begin with. How was I to know that I was only knocking on wood? That all my nostalgic ways were built on puppets pretending to be real boys.

I can’t put you back together again.

After all this time has passed, I find myself thinking about you. I no longer feel resentment toward you. I don’t feel hate, I feel nothing. After all this time I know better. I know to stop searching for the broken people that can’t put themselves back together again. Not to go looking for boys that should have grown up to be men. Stop romanticizing the past, with you as a central character. You don’t exist, you were never real to begin with.

You’re not a man, you’re just a mannequin. 

3/17/2007

 

 

 

Flashing Lights.

If something hurts you enough, you pretend it doesn’t exist. The less power you put on something, the more power you want to forget it. I can’t say I miss the past with it’s nostalgic cloud that hangs over me. I can’t say I miss you, without feeling like a fucking hypocrite. I love how memories form in between the liner notes. How melody haunts a montage of memories harbored deep inside of your soul. How people have a way of coming into your life, without physically being there anymore.

I should have said goodbye a long time ago. I should have written this elaborate “dear john” letter the moment things changed. The moment I couldn’t hear songs the same way. The moment I felt I couldn’t be myself anymore. I felt ruined, that a part of me stopped believing in the cliche kitschy things of yesterday. I lost, you won, and everything else that follows, but all of that is old news. This cloud of fog that follows. Opening up a series of smokey destinations, I didn’t know I wanted to exist anymore. Old distant news with headlines of the past.

Smoke and mirrors, and shooting stars. Waiting, wanting, and longing for things that never had a place with me to begin with. Even after all this time, I can’t help but wonder what was the biggest illusion. What was your biggest performance. This belief of being greater and better then the rulers of the past. The lights flash, the lights dim, and I can’t help but still wonder. Even stars fall, even lights dim, eventually the darkest nights make way for the brightest mornings. The further you fall, the closest to the ground you become. All I could ever want is to see you crash and burn, just like the rest of them. Maybe you need to hit rock bottom to see how it feels on the other side.

I would never wish bad things upon you, but I could never wish you well. Seeing the last of our memories behind the glass, in photographs and songs, I just can’t help myself. I was never the good, I was never the light, but I could be the darkness in all it’s glory. I hate myself for believing in all the wrong things. Believing in sinners dressed up as saints in their perfectly tailored suits. Watching the fog clear, watching the smoke disappear and everything has changed. Songs have a different meaning, once you can listen to them again. Melody fills the cracks where the light once hit. Sooner or later, I start to feel like myself again.

I don’t believe in shooting stars, but I never believed in the ghosts of memories you gave me.  You never wanted me to hate you, and I don’t. I just want to forgive then forget you, then move on.

2/15/2009

9/24/2015 – Day Twenty – Seven

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When you love something so much you place it high upon a pedestal. High above the sky it becomes completely untouchable. Nothing can beat this thing, this moment, this feeling is untouchable. Others have tried, failed, and been nothing but cheap imitations of what you hold dear. When you’re young nothing can reach you, no matter how hard people try. Nothing and no one can come between what you love. I have done a lot of foolish things in my life, but nothing I regret. I loved and I lost, and I put feelings into things that weren’t certain. That’s human nature and as much as you escape the past, all you can do is move forward.

I love a lot of things, but as I got older this love changed as the images did on this status symbol. I loved a lot of bands, a lot of people, and a lot of things I probably shouldn’t have.  A part of me wants to hate these images of the past, but the more I close my eyes wanting to forget, I can’t. The foundations of this pedestal is crumbling down and with it, I want to watch all the memories come tumbling down as well. Yet, I find myself disappearing to fix and fill the holes in the foundation. I hated this band for all the reasons I shouldn’t, then loved it for all the reasons I should. In your memories nobody ages, everyone remains the same. You keep conversations in your head and faces sealed in glass cases of everything you want to remember. Even if it hurts you, you still want to keep it. Close to you, when you need it the most.

Few grey hairs later, pit scars healed, and ear drums finally back to normal; I think of this band. This band that seemed completely untouchable. That could do no wrong in my eyes. Even when the worst was bad, I still had the music to hold me through. As I sit in this seat on my way to see them for the first time in years, I get nostalgic for them. I hated this band for so many things through the years, that it’s taken me a great deal of time to come to terms with how I feel. When you grow up you forget that everyone else has too. Maybe in a way this was my sad attempt of holding on to the past, that I have desperately tried to escape. While I have alienated legions of former friends, I realized I missed that nostalgic connection of recollection. Listening to albums and singing every word puts you right back where you started. An insecure person afraid of the world but in love with literal words that are entangled in melody. I am too old to wish to be 18 again. Too old to sleep on floors and dissect every words in every song.

Today, I am transported back to a time where being stuck between lines of a song, and singing along with your best friend was all you could ever ask for. For a moment, I could live forever. Even if it’s just for a day.

This is where I leave you.

I leave you by the cracks in the pavement where we said our last goodbyes. When promises were nothing but spoken illusions under starlit skies. I have nothing against you, I just want nothing from you. Because everything you did merits no reply. Everything you said, were nothing but lies.

I watch nostalgia pick you apart. Take you down from your pedestal, piece by piece, and inch by inch. I have nothing left, aside from the memories I have packed for you to take at your will. I don’t need this anymore. I don’t need you anymore. Everything you did was never my fault, but how carelessly I believed otherwise. This is the last time, and this time I mean it.

How carelessly you held my heart, and dangled it in front of me from a string. I wasn’t good enough for my own heart and never good enough for you. I watched you go through your rolodexes of people and never paid no mind to me. And you wonder where this leaves us after all this time? You wonder if after all these years, would I still bother for your time?

I am done and this is my parting note.

This is where I leave you. I leave you with this goodbye.

11/5/2010

The Boy who blocked his own shot.

Lies are sweeter than the truth. Sweet as candy that burns and decays below the surface. It doesn’t hurt when it’s sweet. It doesn’t hurt to believe, but it hurts when you leave and you watch everything burn into nothing. People love a hero. They love a captain that takes charge of the ship, even when you drift off course. Its the course that you stick with, the course that you lie with, the course that you can’t help but pretend doesn’t exist. Until everyone knows and you make villains out of saints because it’s what you know best. As far as everyone is concerned there is only one hero. Everyone else is just a storm of villains that drives the ship off its course.

Everyone knows better than everybody else. Everyone has something to say and yet it never truly matters anyway. Because truth will always become lies. Words will always get twisted and you only see what you want to believe. Sparing feelings is better than saying anything. Lies are easier to produce then being honest with the truth. How our lies intertwine into webs of uncertainty and everyone knows. When you make up things in your mind, that are fair greater than any honesty we could see. Honesty is a blunt cut, but we can’t help but dress it up with lies that soften the blow.

I become the villain, that always spoke too soon. I become the hatred, the darkness, the storm that turned to a hurricane. The hero just continues through the storm without a scratch, and I am still cleaning off the salt from my wounds. It only matters what the captain says that turns him into the hero. It only matters if the sun shines down on to the sea and clears the way.

It only matters what you tell everyone, to make yourself feel better. It only matters how much of the story is real, instead of the fabrication you want everyone to believe.

I still sleep soundly, I hope you do the same.

11/16/2015

I think it’s time for us to have a toast..

2015, has come and gone.

We sit back and reflect on the year and look at how far we have come.

Have we come far enough?
Have we let go of ourselves?
Have we let go of our past and made our way into the future?

With each passing year, I hope for something better. I watch myself go into the new year with high hopes for the year. This year will be the year something changes. This year will be the year that everything happens. This year will be the year that I stop beating myself up about everything. This year I will finally be free to live my life. As the months go on, I find myself still doing the same thing. I watch myself hiding how I feel, to spare the feelings of others. I find myself still stuck in the same perdicament as always.

When does this change happen?
When will things happen for me?

The truth is I am afraid. Terrified, petrified of doing things alone. I am afraid of leaving the people I care about alone. I am terrified of failure, that it clouds my thoughts every day. Worst of all, I am afraid of letting everyone down. Letting people down would be my unhappiness, and I couldn’t bare to deal with the pain. I find myself wishing for things to change, and when they do I am frightened of the outcome. Every year I am not ready, every year I cloud my head with ideas of not being good enough. Not being what everyone wants and beating myself up over every little thing. Demons are funny little creatures that eat away at your positivity. No matter how many times people say to think differently, they eat away at your insides, and burrow deep into your soul. I have had my fair share of demons. Demons far too large to ever escape. As the seasons change, the demons come at you head on. 2015, was no exception.

2015 wasn’t a learning experience, it was a understanding period. Understanding that nobody is perfect, not my family and not my friends. The truth is nobody is perfect. I want to believe that. I want to believe that we are all flawed and fucked up, just trying to get by. When you’re hurting, you want to fix everyone else. You want to put your two cents in everyone’s life. Tell everyone everything they’re doing wrong, but  forget all the good they are doing right. Its in this fixing that you don’t feel alone. You feel as though you are helping someone, instead of facing your own issues. You become bitter about people that you start to despise them, and through that you begin to burn bridges. It’s not that you mean to do it, its that you’re upset that they can’t be perfect for you. They can’t be who you want them to be or who you know they could be. What I didn’t realize was focusing on other people’s problems wasn’t allowing me to focus on my own. I watched people come and go from my life but never noticed how angry I was. How hurtful of a person I could be. I didn’t realize that pain from my past was causing me to focus all the pain on someone else, other than myself. I spent years focusing and fixing other people, that I never bothered to try and fix myself.

As Spring was ending, I watched myself dig into a deep dark abyss. I watched a huge light switch inside of me turn off, and turn against everybody. I didn’t believe in friendship. I didn’t believe in family. I felt my insides turning themselves inside out, and watched how the days turned to nights, and how much I wanted to claw off my skin to show how I really felt. Thinking positively didn’t help. Changing my attitude just made it worse. I could hear happiness, I could hear love, but I wasn’t feeling it. I didn’t want to talk to anyone because I knew it was my negativity that was pushing people away. It was my darkness that was turning people against me, and for once in my life, I didn’t care. I wanted to lose everything and everyone, before I had to let them go. Before they saw me for who I really was: a terrible, miserable, hateful person, that truly hated herself. The demons from the dark carried over to the daylight and I watched them turn me into someone I hated. Someone I loathed.

When you’ve reached the end, that’s when your beginning starts. I wanted to be alone and find a way to deal with my emotions. I realized the more alone I was, I started realizing who I really was. I wasn’t happy with the person I was, I wasn’t doing everything I wanted to do, and I wasn’t dealing with all my emotions as I should have done years ago. While the world was preaching to me about a positive mental attitude, I couldn’t produce it. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to, it wasn’t that I didn’t try, it was that I couldn’t see past the smoke I was making myself. I wanted to disappear, but found myself just sinking deeper into my depression. I had been forcing myself to be happy, when I was miserable inside. My fear of being alone became reality; I had let down so many people I didn’t know what to do. The weird thing happens when you disappear. The people you didn’t expect to help you, always help you out in the end. The people that are always there for you, give you space to heal and grow. It took me a long time to understand that, but I finally realized happiness cannot be forced. You have to feel happiness to believe its there. No matter how much you hide from sadness, you need sadness in order to appreciate joy. You need to be able to feel every inch of that hurt and that pain, to truly see how beautiful life really can be. I can’t hide from the pain as much as I would like to. I can’t pretend that pain doesn’t exist because it’s everywhere. I just have to understand that through all that pain, there is beauty. Through the beauty you find a tiny ounce of happiness. Maybe you won’t see it right away, but the day you are ready to embrace how you feel, you’ll get a tiny glimpse of it. It took me years to realize that by embracing my pain, I would find happiness inside of myself. That by accepting everyone for who they are, I could understand the flaws and imperfections of not just everyone by myself as well. People are always going to disappoint us, but sometimes they surprise us in the most unexpected ways. Sometimes the people you love the most will hurt you, and sometimes the people you kept at a distance will be there for you in ways that other people can’t. But 2015, wasn’t about changing, it was about understanding ourselves and the people we care about the most.

And I think it’s time for us to have a toast..

12/31/2015

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

Start it all over.

Drop everything, start it all over. 

Failure is not an option. However even on my best days, I can’t help but feel like one. All the choices I’ve made have their own repercussions. My mind goes a mile a minute, thinking, wondering, asking myself, if I have done the right thing. If what I am doing is where I really want to be. What is this existence of life that leaves me so unsatisfied.

Fear has a way of crippling you. Taking away your power to move on and move forward. Maybe this isn’t failing. Maybe this is my fear taking over my body and causing me to act strange. The longer I stay still, the longer I watch everything crowd around me. Surrounding myself by clutter, chaos, and clouded thoughts. I am sitting still watching every single thing pack up and leave from me. The scattered brain feeling of never ending chaos washes over me. This is the bottom. This is failing in every which way. This is the fear that can’t help but stake a claim in me. I am allowing this to happen. The more I hide under the covers, the more the sun seeks out to find me. I can’t keep doing this to myself. I can’t keep pretending that I am okay, when everything around me is falling apart. This is what I wanted. I wanted this excuse to play into this part. Pretending I am fine and making believe this is what I really want. Crying isn’t going to solve anything. I can’t keep up with this juvenile facade of hating everything on site. We have to grow up sometime. We have to take advantage of the day and start fucking living.

Perhaps everything I need is nothing at all. What I need is to start over and reclaim this new life for myself. Start fresh, start new. Take everything and burn it to the ground. Every single material item I once thought to be important. Give every last inch of my former life away and start again. Begin as a different person, a clean slate. It’s with nothing that I can honestly feel something. Its after everything is gone that I can truly ever really move on. Material items have a way of holding you back. Making you believe that its with these things, that they will help you grow. Instead I am clouded with debt and sadness, this never ending madness that can’t keep me a float. I need a new beginning. I need a clean sale. I need nothing but something to keep this fear away. I need something to take me away from this nothing way of feeling. I watch the fear paralyze this new beginning. Changing course of all my needs and filling them with nonsense. I expected more from this existence then settling for mediocrity. But this is what I want. This is how I chose to live my life. Standing on the sidelines and watching everyone go by with their brand spanking new life.

But I know I can start again. Drop everything and start it all over. I just need to wake up from this mad way of thinking. Wake up from this chaos and work toward this new tomorrow. I can start today, I can start tomorrow. The point is finding a way to start. Maybe I am a failure in every possible way. But we all have to get up sometime and that time is today.

4/14/2014