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there was this breeze and the ivy around my window was baying slowly back and forth open the screen to let the wind seep in turning into some secret liquid it blew my hair through my eyes step forward and reveal i shunned all of it ocean salt sea air cranberry flower scent hot bagels and warm coffee set on wicker tables with high jacaranda surrounding in purple blossums beckoning me with eyes as soft as steel cold and warm all at once screaming "love me i will break you and care for you" as only i would understand it
the air thick i breath so smells tastes of you the wind sounds; just like you... the once thought the once seen the once felt once in the day i thought once i heard your voice turned to find clowns with sad painted faces and fake plastic flowers wilted and frozen to the bone then the next step came and i fell up it fell upon it crying lilac blood which got me nowhere rough bricks formed to fit in a little pocket full of stories to tell the next generation staining the ground
i did not think that things like this could be so hard
for me and people other than just myself i find it incomplete,
today i had great news and no one was here to hear. you cannot base your happiness on the reliance of others especially if they are not sharing their's with you.
i typed in my diary again. how long will i keep typing my words in the trap box screen?
i suppose it is the only way i will keep my thoughts straight but i still think i need him.
when i made you that tape, did you think it was to really just repay you? the songs, yes, randomly picked meant more than the sound of acoustics and buttery cupcake voices; they are me and i gave you me on a tiny sheet of paper and a strand of tape wound to play music. i did believe you found me intellectually stimulating, however, my thought does start to fade. the story about a past life and the ticket. if only i were not so self-centered and morally abusive but i feel as though you could never love me
Even though with recent short comings, I have been spaced and
The radio blares sonicyouth and i scream with the lyrics
Blare with the sound
Crawl under my quilt and blanket myself in
I cry to my headphones 'it isn't fair that I should be here by myself'
And you let things lie
You so sure so confident so yourself
And i am insecure and flailing
The spaces drive me crazed
Like bagels that were too frozen
To eat at the moment
I confused my cup of coffee for your
Cup of tea
It tasted like your lips again
could you honestly believe in tomorrow if i told you that i drove away sun and flowers and anything else of equal happiness if i were to run and fling my arms around and scream crazy antics such as "blue toast is great with cold stirred jellybeans" if i ran around singing songs in voice high citing rhymes that didn't rhyme but convincing you they did if i were to dance and swim in gardens and honeysuckle, strawberries and jacaranda, feathers, glitter and warm marmalade if i dressed in gown and walked down the interstate telling everyone they should walk
i feel trapped here because people do not know me.
i have wrapped myself into certain people coiling inside of their eyes screaming to them that i am here, i am what they need, unconvincingly.
when i am around things seem quieter as though there was some deep sick joke played only on my words photocopied by someone and pasted stapled to trees and billboards.
pathetic and soggy from snow and rain.
all day paranoia from glancing around the halls at people who really glare down on me seeing only appearance, ignoring who i am although i think everone does.
it smells like cigarettes and coffee, but i am alone so i feel as if i may be delusional. i haven't touched the coffeepot in at least a month and i am addicted. things haven't been going as fabulous as they should be and i think that sometimes i just complain too much, but still the real thing is i just don't know how to handle you...or myself. i have been watching old vh1 videos and you know i hate vh1 let alone any other hip music channel since bands on the run stopped airing. i do this to myself.
i have been staring at the television set for weeks on end ignoring my books. i haven't been able to stay with it at school. i haven't been able to listen to any of my cds without being reminded of anything. times with my old friends and times with you. times that i have yet to define because it isn't like we are friends or anything for that matter. i have absorbed myself in things that aren't me that way i could ignore your existance. this isn't me at all...this is the same as all of my other 100 WORDS.
i want to state i have not been myself lately things have been odd and i have felt like a bullet in the head. i just got the computer back, how convenient. so i have to catch up here; apologies made to any who read. school has made me turn into a pop drama teen and i have hated myself lately. i have been drowning in my own stupid life and feeling sorry for myself which reminds me: this is a selfish way to spend one hundred of my words. i guess next time i will type words of meaning.
repetitive and creepy, i feel like i am a stone nothing like a flower or anything worth looking at. shouldn't i feel happy or something? osme sort of emotion that does not distract me? well, today i have honestly seen how sad and sappy i can be. i was excused to the loo to stare at myself in the mirror and splash lukewarm school water on my pale thin face that seemed too slippery already i did not cry or anything, but i told everyone i did just so they did not think i had lost my mind or something.
today felt screamy. everything was loud and rock-outish if you
know. loud crashing chairs scary hallway runners beating my
shoulder to death by breaking my path, teachers yelling at
insignificant students who just don't listen to them anyway
so i joined in even if i felt weird about it. i yelled down
the hallway and bumped into people like some sort of educational
mosh pit or some dorky analogy like that. i took a picture of
the same tree over and over again today. it felt comfortable. i
stopped watching old TV movies and vh1 reruns. i'm resorting to books.
i smelled you on the air today; that fresh scent that i hardly ever smell because i have broken away i have pushed; i was on the bus and i just had an automatic memory of you and me and it ended because the smell of your soft sweaters drifted silently out the window. i even have a candle that sort of catches it but nothing and no one will smell like your hugs. i have no idea how i ended up like this. alone and longing for you: a person impossible to grasp.
you are leaving in a month.
From a distance you looked so perfect and great From a distance when I stared at you and admired From a distance within my thoughts and mind From a distance from a deep realm of thought From a distance I stood scared From a distance watching and silence From a distance writing and contemplating This is not a poem I don't want it to be Nor will it ever be thought of as one But random thoughts with no order, sense, meaning From a distance shuddered with chill From a distance you were beautiful and pale From a distance I
Screaming and thrashing and falling and flinging Arms and music and people and voice High and air and ceiling and couches Pits and drummers and stamps and plaid Boots and silver black and red Screaming and thrashing and rattling and lyrics Spiral and flail cigarettes and silent laughter Conversation and new experience Crying unheard Missing the times and looking everywhere Finding no noise no people or screaming No music or couches or stamps or plaid no boots no hair balm or red blazer trucks No sisters or Requiem for a Dream No IHOP or same kind of bright eyes moments
46 47 48 49 50
counting life and death
space and clocks
walks and swings
media and radio
houses and cars
nine to five jobs
families and soccer moms
side swept and big vans
friends with benefits
half and half
coffee and cigarettes
smog and throat
books and art
distractions from life
"I chose not to choose life
I chose something else"
Rave and dance
Glow in the dark
Like it matters
And a bit of 4 more
18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 and so on until this makes sense to you or me or anyone for that matter something in the car and I cried loudly for the sake of the moment things that would be okay and the song sounded like the saddest I had ever heard but it wasn't really and the guitar sounded so loud speakers busting and it was so cold even though the hot 87 degree wind was pouring through my window the tan seats seeming so plain and lifeless to me more like the people than myself
Remembering the radio and cds and the songs and the jokes The pants and the chucks And the books and the air The time and the batteries and the car and the rain The signing and the word "crookie" and talking voices High And the store and the glasses and the moments set free Parks and twirling and the notebook for the third And the swing of mine and yours and the slide as well The trail and the field and the sand in my shoe The bridge and the parties and the shows and the laughter And the sign
the days are going faster than ever and ill miss her and the situation that has brought her closer to me has pushed me away from blake and seeing josh and john. I know I should be ecstatic. But I am feeling much more than that. My sister is great. I wish she could bring blake. There is merely a week until she arrives and merely a week and a half of school left. Which ultimately makes me happy. No more dealing with homework because I just hate it
Afi, ataris, appleseed cast, arlo guthrie Bright eyes, belle and sebastian, beat happening, boards of canada Cursive, cure(the), Deadsy, dashboard confessional, desaparecidos Elliot smith, elvis costello Flogging molly, far, fast to nowhere Good riddance, greenday Huggy bear Joan of arc, jimmy eat world Kinney (as in sleater), killing heidi Les savy fav, liars academy Mates of state, mendoza line, mxpx New end original, new found glory Oranger, oasis, ozma Placebo, picts, pedro the lion Queen, quebec, quasi Rivers (as in weezer), reelbigfish Saves the day, spiderbait, sunny day real estate, seconds Tulle, trackstar Veruca salt Wilco, wiseguy Zack the rookie
do you remember times with your family like fishing trips or camping, really outdoorsy dyas/ picnics and a lot of relatives. It's hot and sunny, the air smells like water and coconut suntan lotion. soccers, frisbies, and coolers; picnic tables. feeling happy and corny all at once...catching fish and then you realize you weren't thinking about anything the whole trip and you start to see reality and the problems. always right near the end. you don't say anything in hopes no one else felt it, too. i had a great time, but here i am now at home, unclear.
i remember always waking up and i could smell her
cooking; hear her angelic laughter like bells at
the television. and my first thoughts were always
confusion about where i was and then instant comfort
at her. comfort and faith in her that she was
everything. except life is not perfect like we
all expect. she seems like demons now.
demons weeping and stabbing at clouds trying
to break into the beauty. she seems like
psychotic drugs and unseemingly ugly weeds.
no possibilityof ever seeing her the same.
her voice now sounds like broken glass.
weeping broken demon mother.
infantile stained blue glass mirrors
fragile colourless green wooden door
fragrant meek peach floral garden
keen scented orange shiny glitter
soft full yellow fleeting feathers
tired small white drained people
smoky giant grey controling industry
perfect living tan soccer moms
musical feeling aqua wavy water
fleeting falling rose filled vans
beautiful warm black rough jewelry
finalized descriptive teal smooth tears
creative lost violet broken tongues
empathetic gripped red ruined sentences
burnt missed dandelion suffered stars
secretive apologetic melon artificial coats
stabbing past-tense lime bright laughter
sad unwritten magenta locked words
staring closed lavender dead mornings
confusing hung ebony frozen streets
tomorrow when i wake up i want the air to be frozen and dead for the sky to be darkened and everyone to be happy and filled with comfort and memory of the freezing winter the aloneness and happiness of books and hot cappachino the things like sweaters and bags and pencils and scarves and skirts with tights that make you think "cold weather" with no sadness. unlike the other things like dead trees or vast white fields full of frost and air or empty windows and wide eyes blinking out the rest of the world with strong empty stares.
nothing but glitter and feathers a compilation of unorganized thoughts not a journal of past/smokes cigarettes with black coffee no sugar, acorns in hair/forget that i'm not writing/ going to crank indie emo i'm actually not as scared/ music plays an important part warm with fresh breeze/ something to lighten my mood i don't feel like it/breeders/hum/mary lou lord/stare at the wall instead and crushing myself into reality also talked to john today/ i can't find any inspiration/ when it's dark the grass seems blackish/rougher than ever
well the things look better daily and me and amanda are going to hang out with miss trout the chemistry teacher this summer, actually we will stalk her because we are wierd dork. Then we will go shopping at goodwill and go to Borders for coffee. My sister will be coming soon and i'm stoked so much! I haven't seen her since November. On the `12th is the Ghoti Hook show at the AnX and I cannot wait...really I don't know why, but I still cannot wait. I think Amber might be going and Doug...maybe Jerrett. Tons of fun!
We are going to get my sister in two days. And tomorrow is my Spanish final along with photography… two very easy ones. Then I'll be going to Fredrick to shop and go get my sister. I am going to try to find her a present for when she comes probably a sweater and some blueberry jellybeans because she loves those. I am scared though because she is coming by plane, and I am always scared something will go wrong like a plane crash or something or not enough fuel. I am paranoid perhaps, but I really cannot help it.
Canopy napping boy under trees and trees of things. I saw you in the rows of tomatoes at Jonny's Grocery and questioned your thoughts and lips of well. The things that haven't been asked. You wandered out the door. I wander and whisper stealthily away from you and watch you through a window filled with dandelions. You will never see me and you still sit in the same grass and hide yourself. What I don't know is that you are thinking about that girl hiding amongst the dandelions in her father's house and not knowing how to talk to her
We were just sitting around thinking about all of the crap that has been going on and the things we have been through in the last seven months. It was nice and I have missed stephani so much. No idea how much actually. Baggage claim sucked but we were able to deal with it and what not and we didn't go to bed until 5 am. It felt good to stay awake and feel needed I suppose that is what I was lacking all this time I think I was ready. When I saw her I just couldn't stop crying.
And you make everything seem infantile. You. You make the things seem as if they wouldn't even matter and that I am totally ridiculous for worrying and I thank you. I want to thank you for opening up the door to my life and letting it stay cracked. You with your witty phrases and your smooth talk. And I listen to every word ever formed from you. Every sentence taken in and dissolved. But they are words meant for you and me. And the secrets told are kept in the screen of savings and printed into boxes of thoughts pictures.
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