just playing my part...
12/31/2003 08:45 p.m.
"all the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts"
this came back to me today in reading a poem of another pathetic member, and i realized how true it is. i love this quote, 'tis one of my favorites. and usually when people ask how it is i can make it through, i tell them that the wolrd is a stage, i mearly play the role i was assigned. but can we change our roles? are they who we must be forever, or can we deviate from our characters? i like to think we can, but i wonder a lot if the genetics we have play any part in assigning how we grow up, how we act, how we change. and how is it i ended up with the role of perfectionistic daughter? ah, the questions burning inside of me go unanswered...no one can tell me exactly what i want to hear, what i need to hear. so go on acting in your daily lives, but when you look at me, don't think for a second that you know who i am, know who i will become. because i am acting, and as all great movies stars know, someday this film will end. and who will i be without my masks and lies? no one really knows...
I am currently Troubled
I am listening to guitars and lies

Comments (0)

him
12/30/2003 04:18 p.m.
i just want to be, no more thinking. just held into you. it's true that no one will totally understand and i will never have all of you. i can't, and the same is for me-you may never really understnad, you will never have all of me. yet feelings bloom, love conquers all. it reigns on top, right? no matter what happens we will always be friends, always be connected. but what are we looking for? someone to make our pain disappear? someone to lessen it unkowingly? or just someone to share it with? my life has been a long road; something that i can relate to others, so long as they never know the real reason i can understand, right? some days i am so smothered by my own thoughts and decisions. i am drowning myself in my own words, my own decisions, my own feelings. i continue the bottle them up, you can see it in my eyes, feel it in my voice, just as i can in yours. i know you are there, and in my imperfections i know i will never be able to completely understand you and you me. but forever we will be linked, connected-and that is all a human can ask for, right???? is that all we can be, connected to other humans? or are we forced to live forever in bubbles that occasionally interact but only when it's convienient to them so that people will never allow others to remember them for extended time once they are gone to aviod the pain of love and loss? heaven forgive me, i know not what i do....
I am currently Anxious
I am listening to blah, blah, blah...

Comments (0)

content?
10/26/2003 05:59 a.m.
i feel like i am doing exactly what i am supposed to-staying up late to write, bleed for all to see, and closing in the morning, like a nighttime flower. i feel like all is right inside my head, inside me. i am happy. smiling. what has my life come to that something as simple as coffee can make me smile? i can hear the poems and lines resound inside my head. they bounce off the sides, but today they do not feel unwanted. i have accepted that they are a part of me, just as my square jaw and smile are a part of me. they ask not to be written down, just pondered inside my mind, musings of my own. i do not know why you think my writings get better, maybe they are simply released from their chains for the time being? they are free, floating as they did when i was younger (and weirder, lol) when i was in middle school. when the poems flowed from the tip of my tounge and my mother claimed i spoke in riddles. i see now they were not riddles but metaphors for life. or maybe i just think that because i don't want to believe it was just that no one can understand me. they can't, but it's not because of anything that is wrong with me, but simply their inability to understand the metaphors i used. do not feel ashamed or scared to tell me anything, as i have seen and heard so much in my life, nothing will startle or scare me. i worry about you daily, you may as well give me reason to. haha. besides, i know myself that people with mental illness never get rid of it. it is never gone. it is simply better hidden. a bulimic will say she's stopped purging, but only once she has found a new way to purge the emotion.
I am currently Calm
I am listening to "Lila" by: Bright Eyes

Comments (0)

broken wings and broken bones always result in broken hearts...
09/16/2003 05:39 a.m.
so how is it that my life is so surreal? how is it that time passes but i never feel like i am never growing up, never changing. i am just watching the world pass em by like a girl watching the carousel go round and round yet never getting on. the fear i feel has rooted me to the ground and i cannot move from where i stand, never changing never living. refusing to let anyone inside my head, inside my heart, where i could get hurt again. i don't want my heart to be ripped out again, i don't want to feel that pain again. nonono, i would rather stay here, safe inside my soul where no one knows of my weaknesses. but i also feel like i am missing out on life, missing the flight that i have seen others enjoy. and i want it for myself. i want to be free, to float above this world. perhaps once i did fly far from this world, above it where the people became ants and my life on earth unimportant, but i fell. i fell back down to this wreched world, this place where hells fires burned my wings as they did of Icarus, the wax melting them away from his back and burning them until they were nothing. they can no longer be used to fly, and as i hit the ground my bones shattered like glass, splintering into a thousand glistening pieces never to be returned to their origional places. now held together with my toothpicks and glue that melts when i cry and takes me hours to repair. so no tears may fall from my eyes, theur salt stinging and burning my cheeks no more. they are trapped inside my head just as i am trapped inside myself. longing to escape and rarely permitted to. and i really believe that the only time i will ever fly as freely as i once did, floating peacefully in the brilliant blue sky, happenes to be the day i die. for until then i will always be trapped inside the glass box that i made for meyself, a box where all can see me and none can reach me, because i fear that if they touch me i will once again crumple. their fingers will poke and prod and question. they will ask for answers i cannot give, for facts i cannot say. i cannot trust, i cannot afford to be hurt again. but still i wish to fly, and so i rationalize, thinking the more people i have carrying me, holding me up, the less chance there is i will fall. so i choose several, and let them dig their claws into me in exchange for a promise to never let me fall. but can i choose just one that will never drop me, never disappoint me, never break me? of course not, i need to keep them all...
I am currently Embarrassed
I am listening to the flapping of eagle's wings in a place i long to be

Comments (0)

my name analysis
09/14/2003 10:21 p.m.
Your first name has made you a sociable person who appreciates the beauties of nature and the refinements of life, and is moved by music and the arts. You are very idealistic and romantic within yourself and may have tried to express your beautiful thoughts through poetry or writing. Crudeness and vulgarity are very repulsive to you and you are very particular about little things. You suffer greatly with lack of confidence and self-consciousness. You crave affection and understanding, yet because you can be so easily and deeply hurt, you have learned to keep your true nature hidden; therefore people do not really know you. You always wonder if you are doing the right thing, desiring to express yourself but afraid to. People may consider you haughty and aloof because of your sensitivity and reserved ways. You may find some expression but it would usually be light conversation, rarely daring to reveal your deeper thoughts or take others into your confidence for fear of criticism or ridicule. You have a very kind and gentle nature, and although you may be in a position in contact with the public, you will still be a lonely and reserved person. Thus, you live much within your own thoughts, often finding your escape in reading, which you love to do.
How frighteningly accurate...hmmm...
I am currently Disillusioned
I am listening to Something Vague by Conor Oberst

Comments (0)

this love, this life....
09/09/2003 05:52 a.m.
i am so afraid of what i feel, i am so afraid to even feel at all. all my life i have been proud of my apathy, waving it above me like a banner. look at me-you can't hurt me, i don't care. hurt requires me to have put myself out there, loving you, feeling you. and i wouldn't do it, i didn't want to get hurt again. but this time it is differnt. my heard burns and chars and i must open myself to the feeling or i will be burned alive. i am afraid to be other there, afraid of what i will find. i feel the fear ringing clearly in my ears each time someone says to me "who are you? you are SMILING? are you on drugs?"...the list continues. what price will i pay to actually feel love inside my heart and soul? will i be forced to also feel the pain of a goodbye? i am sure. i am so used to pushing my feelings down, below the surface where no one can see them, where they cannot be reached. but suddenly with my magicalartist, i WANT to feel, i WANT to know him, i will risk being hurt for him. i want him to envolope my soul, carry me into the clouds where lovers reign. i would give my life to experience love the way others describe it-magical and wonderful and the source of life. because i know that there is more to me. if this is who i am in all of my apathy, who could i be without it? am i living a lie? are there parts of me that lay dorment, parts of me that remain untapped? are they the reason for my sadness? are they the reason my head spins and my thoughts spiral around inside my head. like papers, blowing in a tornado and houses in a hurricane i am unable to stop the force with which my thoughts are scattered. i am only able to wait them out, hold on for dear life, and hope that in the end i have time to pick up what is left inside me, what hasn't poured out of my fingers, my mouth, and my eyes. the remnents of who i am, the reminder that i am still alive, that i have yet to leave this human cage for a rebirth into it, continuing on until i have learned the lessons i do not yet know, until i am able to fly away from this torture and live in peace the rest of my days. or is there anything after this? i cannot imagine these thoughts ever stopping...not in life, not in death. perhaps that is the answer, that these thoughts will cease to be in death. that no one will know or understand the thoughts inside my head once i am dead. if i do not remove them, put them down on paper, they will be forgotten, i will be forgotten. and my questions will remain unanswered as my body and brain become one with the ground that they came from. but is the mind a part of the brain? or are they separate, and when the body and brain fail, the mind flies off to find another place in which to reside? perhaps i am a combination of former minds who flew here and cannot seem to agree on one topic, therefore the broken conversations that i have with the strange voices in my head make sense. they call to me, mock me, both love and hate me. they are never ceasing, and always causing trouble. but what would life be if my head were silent? i could not deal with it quiet. i used to wish to be dumb, in reality i wished for nothing at all, for without my mind i am mearly a shell walking like the other mindless clones from place to place, caring only for the physical things in life, counting my money and thinking of my wants and possessions. and i would never want to live life in such a self-centered universe. part of me wants to delete this spastic journal, but part of me loves to read what i have to write about when my brain opens up at 2 AM and the words pour from my wounds, because by 9 AM the scabs have formed where the blood once flowed and the words abandon me for the day...
I am currently Unsure
I am listening to the tornado ripping through my brain

Comments (0)

running circles and circles inside my head...
09/08/2003 06:37 a.m.
here we go again, my brain is spiraling out of control. the thoughts ruling me, never allowing me to rest or even brethe deeply. i feel as if my lungs have collapsed and i am trapped here inside, suffocating because of my own brain. how i wish it was easy, just slice me open and out i pop. free to roam, to talk, to dance without any rules, without anything to hold me back. i spin in circles, arms out like a child...spinning in a grassy field until i am forced back into reality, back to a place where people die before they have ever lived and nothing is fair. in a place where i live for the few e-mails and poems that my romantic interest sends me, for a feeling so exquisite that i cannot even begin to use words to explain it. the fire within me burns so brightly i fear the day it is extingushed and i am again laying alone in the cold damp dark cell of my brain. this happiness i know must be followed by some sort of torment, some sort of evil, mocking me in tones i do not recognise and cannot answer. i run from myself, run from my own thoughts of watching the blood ooze from my pores, painless and silent, as sweat drips from an athelete. tonight i am utter dispair that i will never be happy with myself, never be happy with what i do. that i will never be more than mediocre because i will never have tried to be any more than that. my mind cannot seem to rest, it rund constantly in cirlces, flipping and tumbling in a most exquisite manner. there are times when i read things i know are intened for me and i wonder who they are talking about. my magicalartist who is the most wonderful person and poet i have ever met, constantly makes me feel as if he knows a different person than i do. he sees prefection when all i can see is failure. there are no words to describe his strength, his kindness...he shines brighter than any star that hangs in the night sky, brighter than the sun which lights the whole earth. he lights my world, i simply reflect his own light back on his dark soul. but where my soul is dark and empty his soul is dark but quite full. i am nothing, while he is full of everything. i am afraid i will never be satisfied, my thirst never quenched. i will be forever searching, looking for the missing pieces to myself in order to feel whole again. so that the sharp edges of my dark voids will stop slicing into my brain, killing it little by little. and slicing makes me think that by slicing my skin i will somehow remedy the feelings of pain inside my brain. but i know this to be untrue, i have talked to many people who tell me so. so i just try to be, try not to act upon the urges which at times overtake my mind and my thoughts, freezing me in time and space. panicing, feeling the walls of my dorm close in to suffocate me, like a plastic bag is over my face. obscuring my view and preventing the sweet oxygen from entering my lungs. feeling the tears behind my eyes, repeating that i will not, will not cry. no one will see me hurt, no one will see my fears. and so i push it down, bury it inside me until i explode, until the pain eats away my insides leaving just a hollow shell. and then i really will be a corpse, posed and plastic and unable to produce emotion or feeling of any type. the perfect daughter, student and role model, but unable to become attached. unable to lie...unable to do just about anything. but would i be perfect then? would i not care if my mind ran in circles? would there be a mind to run? ah, these pathetic thoughts that float through my brain to leave me utterly confused. you, my uberlywonderfulest poet, make me feel alive when i thought i was dead. you make me feel safe when i am scared. you let me see the light when all i know is darkness. with you i am happy where before i was sad. what will i do when you leave, just as all the others left? unwillingly and sadly, but still you will go. i warn myself not to love, but it is too late. i have fallen, and fallen hard to earth. to this mortal land where pain is felt and the price i will pay for this love is my life...
I am currently Pathetic
I am listening to the irregular breathing attached to my panic attacks...

Comments (0)

butterflies?
09/08/2003 02:36 a.m.
i would like to shed my skin, become a beautiful butterfly. come into my own, to grow and change. instead i feel like i keep trying on new costumes, none of which fit me well. i am getting closer, but i really wish that at some point i will just get to crawl out of my skin only to find the magnificant butterfly there. i was talking to a friend about why i love the snow, the winter. i hate to be cold, but the sight of everything, covered in perfection. unmarked by anything human, anything alive. and then we go out in it, marring the perfection with our muddy shoes and disturbing the stillness that blankets the wold late at night. watching the crystals fall in the moonlight in all of their perfection. each one different from the last, like people. they slowly slip and fall to the ground where they lay like a blanket over the world. and the world is encased in perfection for a few hours. and then we destroy it, we plow through it, walk over it, ruining the world once again. i wish that i could walk over the snow and not leave a mark, i want to walk quietly around the world, seeking the perfection i find in the midnight snow..."My heart is like an open wound, That reads the tea leaves of its doom. Soothe me with redemption’s love, Like a heat proof kitchen glove." -Mystik Spiral
I am currently Scattered
I am listening to smile empty soul

Comments (0)

your words cause a blaze, buring her from the inside out...
08/31/2003 05:28 a.m.
ah, my poet, my lover, my friend. how can i not be moved by the raw emotion with which you write? you are the most amazing person i have ever met. and what am i to do with it? what am i to do with you? i have never been good at relationships. never good at taking compliments, accepting gifts or becoming less independent. since i met you my world has been both more confusing and better lit. you provide me with a fire which burns my insides, despreately wishing to escape and spread. it wishes to mark us all, never allowing us to remain the same. our chemicals are changing, burning and charring into something new. is it where something new will take over and grow? or will it too be dead, never allowing us to live again? ah, my lack of inspiration has been failing me and i fear i will not feel the dark inspiration again...alas, i know it will return when i least expect it. i just cannot be discouraged...
I am currently Affectionate
I am listening to the voices in my head

Comments (0)

somewhere out among the stars, one shines exceptionally bright
08/27/2003 12:40 a.m.
to my uberlywonderfulest poet: i love you and your writing, as it sets my soul ablaze and allows my darkness to be encompassed by light for a short period of time at least. you are a fallen star, shining brighter than those left in the sky for everyone to expreience.
i have yet to write a piece i felt deserved any consideration from the talent as i have seen here. maybe tonight the sad, lonely inspiration will come and i will feel the words corse through me like an orgasm, the flow unmatched by almost anything else on earth. there are so many days when the voids inside my head slice me, to the point where i think the pieces should be coming out of my head, my craziness visible to all. the pain is unmatched by anything physical i have ever expreienced, and lately i have sincerely wanted to make my pain real, physical. but i restrain, i survive and move on, i grow stronger.... i love Plato's ideas and thoughts and i embrace them because they tell a lot about us as people...my favorite being that there are two worlds, and we are not really living in this one, we are merely shadows cast down from the intelligable world. ah, yes, i am a shadow, fleeting and unable to be either tamed or caught. also according to Plato, recounting a story by Homer, there once was a beautiful creature, the bisexual human, who had two sets of hands, feet, heads, etc. this human insulted Zeus, and he in turn cuts the human into two beings. many struggles in life, including the need for a mate adn being in a relationship, may be traced back to this event, when we lost a part of ourselves and we are constantly trying to find and merge with our missing half... that is what i have been spending my life doing...searching for ***the perfect match***
I am currently Troubled
I am listening to Dashboard Confessional

Comments (0)