Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Won't you.
No matter how hard I hit, you'll always hit me harder.
Won't you?
--
No matter how many pills I take, I'll never fall asleep.
No matter how many words I read inside my head, I'll never write them down. Not anymore.
No matter how many times I tell myself that I'm okay, I'll always realize just how much I am not okay.
No matter how many times I cry, new tears will always pour out.
And at the bottom of it all...
No matter how many times I smile, I'll always be chewed up from the inside. And nothing will ever feel right again - ever.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Account
It's 3 a.m., I must be lonely.
Except that I am. And exactly a year ago today, I was not lonely. Not at all. I was as close as I ever was before - to anyone.
But today I am lonely.
I am drinking a bottle of wine by myself.
I am embracing papercuts, bitten-down nails, split-ended hairs and runny mascara. I am embracing the me that wreaks havoc inside my brain. I am embracing cigarette butts inside my chest, I am embracing forgotten moments and meaningless conversations.
I am embracing being normal, I am embracing drawings on bathroom tiles when it gets foggy. I am embracing slips and I am embracing wounds.
I am embracing loneliness and I am embracing freedom. I am embracing myself and I am embracing alienation from the person I think I am. I am embracing the world and leaving myself behind. I am never letting go.
I am never crying again.
I am stronger than anyone else I know.
and weaker than myself
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Win
THIS IS SO AWESOME.
Just when I thought my life was falling apart, I completely surpassed my wildest expectations.
This is a night for smiling, even if there's a hint of blood on my teeth.
Monday, December 6, 2010
Monday, November 1, 2010
Slow
''She was compelled by a confessional fever which forced her into lifting a corner of the veil and then frightened her when anyone listened too attentively.''
- Anais Nin, A Spy in the House of Love
...
This was a book I deeply enjoyed reading, not so much for the content itself as for the pure aesthicity (if this is, indeed, a word) of the writing.
Also, I've noticed that my bookshelf is slowly giving in to the weight of the books.
As much as I like the thought of this, scattered books and broken wood do not excite me enough to be willing to see it happen.
I guess.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
This
... is so fucked up.
All I want is to be needed and to be loved - not for what I might or could have been but for what I am, even if that is so far from perfection it shouldn't even exist.
I just want to be someone, not no one.
And I am sick and tired of people calling themselves my friends. You're not a friend if you can't stand being pushed away.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
The
I had seven faces
Thought I new which one to wear
But I'm sick of spending these lonely nights
Training myself not to care
Thought I new which one to wear
But I'm sick of spending these lonely nights
Training myself not to care
...
NEW YORK CARES.
- Interpol: NYC
I'm just so sad right now. I wish I wouldn't be wishing for this for as long as I do.
I wish I could be there right now.
I wish changes could happen with a snap of fingers.
I wish I wouldn't be so unhappy with everything and everyone.
I wish I could be an exception.
But all I have are these books with empty pages that are falling on top of me and smothering me with their blankness. I'm swallowing static and sucking on air.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Three
Apparently, it is possible to want something too much.
Now, I'm buried underneath these big dreams of mine, choking on the cynical remarks I can no longer utter, holding back the tears when looking at candid photographs.
It's strange when the entire focus of your life suddenly switches, as if the camera that was filming it fell over.
Lost on the streets of a town I know... all too well and maybe for good.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)