| francie nolan couldnt save me, dolores price didnt touch me. |
[Aug. 22nd, 2006|11:59 pm] |
this is a journey all my own.
life has been... turmoil... to say the least. and the situations are complicated.
i cant even begin, you wouldnt believe all i know.
there's a girl at work who is a habitual liar. it drives me insane. she complains about being 'sick' all of the time. different things happening to her. at work the other night i heard her say ow, i looked over and i guess she had stubbed her toe. i made eye contact. raised my eyebrows, and looked away while sighing. get over yourself. go get your colon taken out and then tell me how you feel, okay?
anyway.
i feel more and more distant from my emotions. like i'm removed from the situation. earlier, nathan was asking me about some situations that happened ten years ago. i could only come out with a quiet yes or no answer. staring at the ceiling. noticing the light coming closer to me, somehow. marveling at the shadows created by stucco.
and i felt like a jerk. here, the man i'm going to marry is trying to understand me, and all i can think about is the paint and the lightbulb. or the way that stupid box of reduced fat cheezits looked, sitting on a chest thats not even mine. a beautiful wooden chest that was in this room when i moved in. and how the box leaned, so nonchalantly. and right behind it, a bouquet (huh? how do you spell that again?) that i carried in my aunts wedding when i was 7. or 8? most of my memories occur on even numbered ages. as if some horrid THING happened to me every other year.
you never know.
and what scares me, is that i dont know how i feel a lot of the time.
i had to shut off to so much when i was growing up, that now i'm nearly 22 and i cant even read my own emotions.
i feel like i'm moving backwards.
5+ years of straight therapy couldnt help me. its all deteriorating now.
my lung is collapsed again. it hurts. i can hear people making fun of me, thinking i'm a hypochondriac.
this is what i want: to be loved.
that doesnt mean i have to be understood.
i just want to be accepted, and loved unconditionally.
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will i ever be okay? |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 22nd, 2006|11:05 pm] |
i have found
that friends really do
make the best lovers. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 23rd, 2006|10:30 pm] |
i find beauty and peace in synchronization.
in my little town of a town, the road runs parallel to the railroad tracks for about a mile. Every time a train is passing and we're headed towards the same horizon, I find myself slowing down so we're at the same speed. and i can look over and watch us gliding over the ground. its such a wonderful feeling. its peaceful. like nothing in the world could go wrong, as long as the train and i are the same.
and i turn the music up, too. so that i'm living in a music video. one that only i'll ever see.
these are the simple things in life that get me through the day. |
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| two for one. |
[Jan. 23rd, 2006|10:30 pm] |
i've stopped believing in fairy tales.
in fact, i've burned every last one of them that I owned. in the fire by the lake. that pit closed in by old wooden logs. and i kicked every one of them, hoping they'd feel my pain as those pages hissed. and it seemed as though every promise grew stronger just before it faded away completely. it shined bright, trying to live again.. but my fire was stronger, and it consumed them.
no fire could reach the words that are still in my head. the memories are still circling my brain, running their own marathon. around and around on that stupid track. and i cringe every time they pass. they smell of sweat and old dirty socks. you'd think they would have tired out long ago, but memories never do. they dont get older and they dont get tired.
so i keep making new ones, hoping they'll lay peacefully once they are made, instead of running on that track of regret.
its like ani said, "I fight fire with words, words are hotter than flames, words are wetter than water."
and how true it is. because you can take it back, but you can never undo whats been said once. even if it was a whisper. |
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| we might die from medication, but we sure killed all the pain |
[Jan. 9th, 2006|08:56 pm] |
we hit the brakes often
but we dont always slow down
my smile shows itself
but it doesnt always cover my frown
words can be comforting
but just for a little while
soon they lose their luster
and end up in a dusty pile
waiting to be hauled
off to the garbage dump
they leave me in shadows
and in my sorrow i slump
depression hits me hard
leaving nothing in it's wake
i wasnt ready to give up
everything i knew it'd take
i feel lost, most days now
and i'm yearning to be found
pick flowers as i wait for someone
and i sink lower into the ground.
-shrug-
idk. the first line popped into my head when i was driving home. mostly kuz the idiot in front of me kept hitting their brakes but they didnt need to, so it had no real purpose since they werent slowing themselves down at all. i hate spastic brakers. it drives me insane.
today was a long day. ruth had an office day, so it was just me running things from 8:30am until 2pm, more like 2:30 when heather got there. by that time i was exhausted and so hungry i was startin to get all shaky and weird. -yawn-
i'm seriously considering a 'nap' even tho its 7pm. i dont have to work tomorrow, so i can sleep in. so it doesnt matter if i cant get to sleep early tonight. idk. i cant think straight.
blah! i quit! i'm taking a short nap. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 7th, 2006|09:47 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  thoughtful | ] |
| [ | music |
| | damien rice- the blower's daughter | ] |
i'm not sure if these are pecans or walnuts... but either way, they are reminding me of watching cartoons when i was little, and i'm not really sure why. in fact, it makes so little sense... because when i was little, i would only eat the sweet part of the pecan pie, and i'd pick the pecans off. its funny how things change, yet still stay the same. because here i am, eating pecan pie, but this time i'm not so picky. i'm still doing things i dont really want to be doing, though. i'm eating the crust and i dont really like it. and the part of me that hates to waste things is enjoying it, but the part of me that cares about quality over quantity is getting angry. my dad still belches loudly from the next room, and my mom still mutters a disgusted word under her breath. they still argue about the tv stations, but lately i tune them out instead of tuning in for what words will shatter my ears next. seems that lately, the words dont even reach my inner ear. they flutter on the outside, and i can hear a whisper or two, but in the end i dont even recall what station they were on in the first place.
and the ironic part is, its okay if i leave two bites. but any more than that, and i feel the guilt.
i remember the trash cans at school in the lunch room. the food that would pile up. everyone's germs mixing together. the seagulls at the land fill told me that they dont mind. the other kids dont know, but they didnt care in the first place. so they keep piling their sandwich crusts and old bananas on top of the orange spaghetti from the lunch ladies.
oh how we'd sneak away every friday with extra breadsticks. we'd eat them in the hallway on our walk back to class. smuggling them out the kitchen door like cocaine across the border. adrenaline pumping so hard, and we didnt even know why it felt so good. and sometimes, i think thats the first time i experienced how dry your hands can be after they soak in hot water.
you would think i'd consumed two or more alcoholic drinks right now, but i havent had a drop. i'm high on pecan pie and a quarter of a glass of 2% milk, because anymore than that and my stomach will hurt. maybe thats why i leave a half inch of milk in the bottom of my glass, to remind me that i hadnt drank too much after all. its always mind over matter. and i wonder where that glass of water beside my bed came from. and where was it last night when i awoke with the sahara on my tongue? do you remember the way the phone rang that morning? and how we pretended we didnt hear, but i could feel your heart race just like mine with every ring. like we'd be caught, somehow. you knew and i knew, that we had done nothing wrong, but our hearts still raced with such fury you'd think they were keeping time with a metronome somewhere. an invisible one.
remember the metronome? do you? i remember. i miss seeing it, how it would collect tiny bits of dust that i would wipe off every wednesday morning. because wednesday was my day. did you know i'd sit on the floor by that pool table and wonder what it'd be like when i was finally gone? and now i am. i've been gone for awhile. i miss the way your laundry would smell, when it mixed with mine.
memories are haunting. and sometimes thats all i live off of. because when nothing is going good in the present, i reach into the past and bring out a piece of gold to stare at for awhile. as long as i can smile, i know i wont die.
tho, even when i'm frowning... there's still hope.
because hope is made of tiny shreds. like shreds of fabric on the clothing left in my dead grandmother's closet. she's been gone so long, i dont even remember how those clothes would hang on her hips. my hips are just like hers were. and i suppose thats why i dont hate them completely. they arent what i want, but if they're like hers, then i know that they are okay.
anyways. this pecan pie has left little bits of goo on the plate. i remember waking up one night, not being able to sleep. and how my mom and i sat in the living room, in front of the fish tank and right by the tv, and we scraped our forks across the pie pan, and then we scraped our tongues across the fork. savoring the tiny bits of sweetness that were left.
maybe thats how i'll live my life. getting by on those little bits that are left. taking what i can get. it'll never be enough to fill me up, but my appetite for such things in life is insatiable. so i'll get just enough for my tongue to recognize the sweet flavor, and i'll smile.
its the 'little' things in life, afterall.
there are still two bites left, and i'm wishing i could share them with someone. i like to leave something behind, just in case. in case you didnt get enough. i want to give and give and give, and i only want to take a little bit. just let me scrape the bottom of your plate. i'll gather what i can, and i swear it'll be enough.
the glass is half empty, but i'm finding my tears do a pretty good job of filling it up to the top. |
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| raunchy. |
[Jan. 6th, 2006|08:38 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  anxious | ] |
| [ | music |
| | damien rice-volcano | ] |
so, we got in a few items for v-day. including a heart shaped paddle. one side has furry fuzz on it, and the other side is leather. depending on how bad you've been, you can use either side.
as soon as i saw it in the back room, i grabbed it and ran to spank carol with it. hahahhahaha. she took it from me and gave me a good one. woo! heh.
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my favorite people were working tonight with me. carol, britt, and miranda. miranda was looking for me, so i hid from her in the store. i kept walking into the other room, making sure she didnt see me. but then she ran and chased me down. it was fun. i love working, lately. we just have FUN and its awesome. we laugh a lot and play around, but we still make our segments and we still get our work done. its the best.
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or maybe i'm so lonely that i think work is a good time.
i dont know.
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britt and i are going to see a movie tonight. we were gonna double date, but we decided to leave boys at home and go by ourselves. she told me i could take aaron, the guy from the party, and she would 'find a guy.' haha. she's a hoe. ;)
anyhow. we decided that memoirs of a geisha is a little chick flick-ish. so its just gonna be us, and popcorn. mmmmm. i'm having some baileys right now and its so delicious i cant stand it.
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heather, the manager, invited me over on sunday for movies and pizza making. she's fun. i used to think she was kind of... uppity? i guess... i dont know. not someone to have fun with, is a better way to put it. but lately she's been loosening up a lot. so i'm gonna go over to her place sunday after work. she has a kitchen aid thing that you can make your own dough for pizza with. it should be fun.
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i've been shedding. my dark red hairs are on my pillow.
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some woman yelled at carol today. at the cash register, carol had to figure out the right change for the woman in her head. she had it, but wanted to make sure it was right with a calculator. i guess the woman went off on her... telling her that she was stupid, basically. and the woman was a math teacher, and said that its people like carol who cause problems in the world. what a hag. poor carol was in tears, so i took her back to the office and we sat in there for awhile. she was okay when i left... but man. carol said thats her one weakness.. that she just cant do math in her head. i told her i understood, that when i'm at the cash registers, i have to use a calculator because i dont trust my mind when i try to rush doing things.
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i LOVE it when people grumble behind my back, but make sure they're loud enough for me to hear. like, complaining about how long the line is and how we should open another register. i just keep smiling and doing what i was doing, acting like i didnt hear. whatever.
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i cant take my eyes off of you....
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i want to be adored.
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my mom made chicken pot pie. it was good, but i couldnt eat much of it, and now i'm craving something more.
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and thinking back, i knew better. the phrase "too good to be true" was said for a reason, and it'll keep repeating for centuries. for centuries.
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"i havent cried in awhile but i havent forgotten the pain in my heart." these crossroads dont have roadsigns, i'm unsure of which way to turn.
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this sucks. but tonight will be fun. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 6th, 2006|01:07 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  gloomy | ] |
i'm two parts lonely, one part tired. four parts bored.
listening to death cab increases my risk for depression. i dont care.
i guess i just want someone to talk to. its funny how i keep my distance, and then i crave for a conversation like i'd die w/o one. maybe its not funny. i'm not laughing. just crying.
not sure what i'm doing tomorrow night. maybe a movie. i dont know.
saturday i'm gonna hang out with carol and brittany. and some other girls. should be fun.
all i want to do, is stay up all night with myself. and then sleep all day while the rest of the world is awake. i'm trying to avoid everything thats good for me.
i know my depression is bad when i dont feel like finishing my laundry.
made an appointment with a general practice doc. i think i'll tell her how much pain i'm in. and maybe she can help numb it. gotta get on some depression meds, too. because being paralyzed like this just doesnt work. i cant live. i cant believe i dont want to go snuggle with my warm clean clothes fresh from the dryer.
i dont get it.
i've gotta pull through this.
"who wants to deal with this, ya know?..."
...no one, no one does. if only he would have just said that.
i'm totally getting a caramel mocha from starbucks in the morning. a freaking venti, too.
periods SUCK. |
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| january first. |
[Jan. 1st, 2006|08:50 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  determined | ] |
i'm about to take a nap.
i can feel myself changing. i know that sounds like its out of a movie, and it sounds corny, but its true. i feel tired of being this way. and i want to help myself.
if i keep going it'll turn into a ramble of nonsense and will eventually lose its meaning. right now, in my head, its freaking genius. i want it to stay that way.
"the preacher's cat is a vivacious cat."
that was fun. standing in a circle with people i dont even know, with a martini in my hand. in some house three times as big as any i've been in before. immaculately decorated, and a baby grand black piano near the fireplace. just beautiful. watching thirty somethings get drunk makes me feel a bit better about myself. and watching them stand in a circle, playing some silly drinking game is smashing. not to mention i took part in it, which was also wonderful. sharing glances with britter as the people made fools of themselves. everyone thought we were crazy for leaving 15 minutes til midnight, but we had somewhere to be.
kneeling on the floor of the living room, gripping her shoulder like the world was ending. because it was, at that moment. it really was.
i was thinking, how another year has passed already. and here i am in the same place. but i only mean that in a physical sense. i feel like i've run in a circle a few times, and here i am again. writing in my deadjournal and keeping the world at bay, just out of reach.
and then i realized. its physical. mentally, i'm miles and miles away from where i was a year ago. and you know what? i've given up on finding love. i have better things to do with my time. it'll happen one day. and that love isnt gonna fade out like it has before. i just hate getting my hopes up. because then i turn around and here i am at the same starting place.
anyway.
i want someone to show me what i mean to them.
it seems like i always put things on hold that i want to do. i get so distracted, so easily, and then my dreams are out the window. i dont like that. so i'm gonna get back to being a better person, enjoying what i enjoy, and all that jazz involved.
gah! distracted again. now i cant finish this, but i think i've said all i've needed to say. thats that, i'm wiping my hands clean, and i'm putting on my boots for another hike. |
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silver_raine's journal