lie to me she whispers

sssssssssh

2012-02-17T14:17:00.000-08:00

Beautiful,
like the sound of
mornings
dragging the sun across the
expansive
like the intensity I might
love
the way you hug me with
a squeeze
as if you might never
let me go.

Not so fragile

2012-02-17T08:42:00.000-08:00

Don't tell me you're sorry. Not because the word has already been rendered meaningless or because it sounds rather hollow and pitiful. When you tell me you're sorry, you leave me with a handful of responses, all awkward.
I might say "Thanks" because that is my default response, one of the most versatile words that doesn't really fit in this situation.
I could simply say "It's okay," but I don't like to lie to such an extreme.
I imagine that if I lacked any sense of social rules and was feeling particularly edgy, I would tell you to fuck off.
But most likely, I would look away and say nothing at all because, though I've since learned to better control my tear ducts, there are things that will always make me cry.

You all have this funny way of getting yourself involved in issues you don't belong in. Making snap judgments based off one person's skewed idea of who I am. I missed the memo that says I am supposed to worship the ground you walk on. And I guess I skipped the conference that discussed all the fake ways of being a "friend" to someone. My final offense is probably that I forgot that my role in your life is replacement or scapegoat or stand in. I apologize for thinking otherwise.

But you forgot that I don't trust easily, and now you've ruined any progress I happened to make in that area. And you forgot that I am not sunshiny positive all the time, and I think I have a good reason for being pessimistic. You forgot I think friendships have an expiration date because I've been fucked over whenever I tried to extend that expiration date.

Maybe I don't know everything about you, your problems, your hardships, but I never accused you of being a bully, a villain. Or a shitty friend (until you actually were a shitty friend). Maybe I'm moody and maybe I have strong opinions, but I am not delusional about my bitchiness, and everything I think about you is the result of specific events.

And I'm tired of your condescending looks, your judgmental tones when you don't know that I've tolerated you for two years before finally breaking, and you don't even know that I'm breaking. And you don't know that our relationship was effectively over in my mind the second you were implicated in Target, and I needed a reason to get out. You don't know that I hate my college, that I don't want to be here at all, that I applied for someone else, and that it backfired. You don't know that my middle school friends expressed happiness in my leave, that I thought I moved on from that in high school until it happened again. You don't know that I wished I had more nerve to bitch you out. You don't know that I hate hypocrites, that what you accused me of is what you keep doing to me. You don't know that I used to hate my family for moving on so fast, for erasing my mom out of my life before I was ready. You don't know that I do love my brother, that I only hate him because he's so happy, that everyone else loves him more because he's so happy, that I envy the fact that he can turn to someone else and call her "Mom." You probably know that I cried a lot. I cried all the time. But you don't know that I throw things, that I scream, that I depended on OTC drugs to fall asleep, that I was suicidal at 16 and started cutting at 17. You don't know that if you taught me how to shoot a gun at 10, I would've murdered the man for ruining my life. You don't know that I wrestled with the guilt of killing my mom because I was a selfish brat who always had to get her way, that when I was younger, I would have traded anyone in my life to have her back. Anyone. You especially don't know that I used to be optimistic, that I can define the exact point that changed because when I was aware of what happened, I refused to believe it even after seeing her unrecognizeable body in the casket.

You should know that I'm not speaking of everyone I've met, that I'll miss some and regret not becoming closer to them. You should know that I'm doing as close to okay as I can get now. That I don't try with people anymore. And now that I am months away from going abroad and hopefully graduating early, you should know that I'm not hiding anything anymore. That I'm not afraid you'll think I'm weird or bitchy or unapproachable or crazy because everyone has issues. You should know that it does hurt to know leaving here won't affect me at all.

Talents

2012-01-02T07:43:00.000-08:00

I'm really amazingly good at this.
Pretending you were operating on something other than testosterone.
And now returning to the fantasy that you could still be waiting for me.
I am really amazingly good at this.
That is fucking up.
It's like a sadistic hobby, a distorted series of tests I need someone to pass.
Thinking not of the hidden option d, the one in which you disappear because you've had enough.
And it is funny how I am amazingly good at this.
Bringing myself where I rightfully belong:
alone and without you.

vicariously through it

2011-11-15T19:12:00.000-08:00

So I live vicariously through Friends.

All I want is
five best friends
three guys
two girls
five best friends who live within walking distance of each other
I want my own job,
to make money that is mine,
to buy stuff that is mine.
I want my own apartment
(with my own kitchen)
that I can decorate as I wish,
and come and go as I please.
I want to just be done with tests and books and college politics
and stupid things that remind me of six-year-olds and high school.
I want a coffee shop
where we'll always meet
and talk about nothing at all.

like a skin rash

2011-11-15T19:04:00.000-08:00

they say you hate most those qualities that you yourself possess so if that's in fact true then maybe that's why I hate sensitivity why I hate open sensitivity the kind that causes inconveniences and shitty nights for other people maybe that's why I keep it locked away inside so you don't even know they never know they don't know that I think they're shitty people for being hypocritical they don't know that they effectively ruined my life and everything I have ever idealized about relationships and trust and honesty and yadda yadda yadda blah blah blah cheesy shit we all want and strive for but never achieve because we're just fucked up human beings everyone of us and we refuse to see that instead we put ourselves up on a pedestal and we victimize ourselves and we pretend like everyone else in the world is out to get us and we conveniently leave out the fact that we are indirectly causing our own pain by directly causing the pain of others now you don't stand there and gripe about your grievances and hurt feelings when just two days ago you were telling me to chill the fuck out about something that offended me when you don't understand the first thing about me and why it offended me in the first place and don't try to play victim again turning the tables onto me like you always do like you all always do because I am the only one who hates this and hates that because I am not deluded into thinking life has meaning or that life is beautiful not that I'm saying you are wrong I'm just saying you won't even let me be right because you are so hung up in playing the victim you don't even realize

master plan

2011-11-09T21:06:00.000-08:00

Rant

I've accepted many things about myself this past summer.

You know those points in your life that are crucial turning points in disguise?

Can you pinpoint them?

I can.

I have a list of all the people who pissed me off.

And I will send them all a copy of my first paycheck.

Who the fuck do you think you are being condescending toward me?

Where the fuck did you go to college, you douchebag?

I think I've given up on social interactions

because there are certain things I will never forgive.

Oops, is my back bleeding again?

Sorry, let me clean that up for you.

I hate the fact that I hate this system, these ways, those values.

I hate even more that i never wanted to come here.

I hate most that I applied here for a stupid boy.

[Amelia, you dumbass.]

Do you believe people can change?

Does it matter anyways?

No matter what, people will always remember you as

the slut, the cheater, the bitch,

the shitty

fucking

person

who is dispensable and easily replaceable.

I know that people always play the "what if" game with their life,

but I remember being nine,

still sleeping in the same bed as my mommy and baby brother

because we had a beautiful relationship

because she oversaw my education, my extra curriculars, my general personal development.

I remember having that all pulled out from under me

as if some all powerful thing

thought it would be funny as hell to

fuck with me.

I remember all the engaging fantasies of death

that I would not know had her life been spared.

Pinpointed.

Everything happens for a reason my ass,

fuck you too.

life is funny in a serious kind of way

2011-11-09T20:28:00.000-08:00

Consumed

with clever ways

to graduate early.

To accumulate 10

transfer credits

in the form of

3 semesters away.

Dislike you

because you think

I'm stupid.

Dislike you

because you think

you're not.

Dislike you

because this is

irritating.

Negative affectivity

on overload

overload

overload.

under my skin

2011-09-18T01:38:00.000-07:00

Pretender,
feigning a rounded smile
stomach in knots
when she sees him moving along with his own
avoiding contact
at the slightest in passing
chest tightens and turns
when she sees his arms snaked around another
breathe slow, she knows
uncontrollable shivers spark her fingertips
as she dreams of his blatant
invasion of her deepest secrets

productivity is not meant for saturdays

2011-09-10T18:53:00.000-07:00

Friends and Boy Meets World = how life should be.
wondering how often students choose the "Write a graphic sex scene from your life." topic for creative nonfiction exercises
people are still shitty
online shopping habits are surfacing again
McD's iced coffee with hazelnut syrup is my new favorite breakfast drink
my roommate's high school thinks she's preggers. major lawls.
raging hormones to match my raging appetite
craving Atlanta
Cover Me in Petals, cherry red pumps, nude body suit, high waisted jeans
day thus far: mesh skirt, 5 episodes of Pretty Little Liars, and long ass nap.

death does not like to be cheated

2011-08-22T21:17:00.000-07:00

My task for you:

Watch Final Destination if you haven't already,

then immediately go watch Final Destination 5

Yes, it was rather disgusting,

and I hate the unnatural sounds the human body can make.

THAT DAMN SCREW.

But it was humorous.

"Hey, look at me. What's my name? ... Look away."

and I love when things come full circle.

And there were Tom Cruise, Blake Lively, and Jennifer Garner younglings.

oh why do you elude me?

2011-08-13T22:30:00.000-07:00

It sort of pisses me off that you think I'm stupid.

Maybe beneath you.

I can finally relax,

thank you forces of the universe (and maybe even myself)

for making him proud.

It's been so long since I've felt this way.

[And you're sort of taking it away from me. Kind of bitchy, no?]

It's undeniable that they are all shitty.

But just smile and deal.

Just pretending like I am part of something

because it keeps me alive.

Just humor me, please

even though I know you're full of shit.

Struggling to figure out what I want,

never have I been so unsure,

my definite plans now slipping through my unwoven fingers.

I'm regressing,

I'm questioning the point of this,

and I'm just waiting.

I can feel everyone's excitement bubbling,

and I wish I could join them too.

It's a myth that things have intrinsic meaning.

I wish we were all the same.

I like the idea of giving life back to a heap of bones.

But I think we should leave the dead be and start respecting the living, stop neglecting them.

I am bothered by the way your mind operates; it irks me that I can't figure you out.

I look forward to the simple routine of textbooks and notebook pages.

I will murder someone if I don't get what I stayed at that black hole for.

I read at the speed of a mentally handicapped person... slower, actually.

I miss the empty desert.

I am inspired by everything, motivated by nothing.

I still can't find my bear, and it makes me terribly sad.

Alton Brown is even more my hero now than he was before.

It's true,

I probably do need you.

stereochemically scrambled

2011-08-12T10:39:00.000-07:00

(not my own, a collection of lyrics to describe the conclusion of my unproductive summer spent with radio blasting on iPod faithfully attached, the day before my final kills me, and the closing in of another shit-tastic year)

It's so loud

(la la lalala)

inside my head

oh, this is how it starts

lightning strikes the heart

even when I'm walking on barbed wire

even when I set myself on fire

why do I always feel invisible?

I won't tell anybody that you turn the world around

looking at life through a loaded gun

take your best shot, aim it at the sun

I don't need a parachute, baby, if I've got you

you are a cinema

I could watch you

forever

and the story of us looks a lot like a tragedy now

I am

just another nothing

every day I try to lock my past

I am

well suited for erasing

even though inside I'm such a mess

why do I always feel invisible?

with words that I should have said

shame on me

and we had magic

(chest to chest)

and this is tragic

(we were always just that close)

we are right where we should be

you'll be... everything I want

you make me feel like

I feel like my world's been infected

you'll find yourself alone

and now all I wanna see is a sky full of lighters

be a little inappropriate

you could be my hero

if only I could let go

so many things that I wish you knew

so many walls up that I can't break through

it feels like more than distance between us

I can't take back the words I never said.

Words I Never Said

Drift

Invisible

The Story of Us

Brighter than the Sun

You Lost Me

Lighters

Cinema

You Make Me Feel

I Wanna Go

Broken Arrow

Find Yourself

California King Bed

Parachute

motivation. lacking.

2011-08-06T21:31:00.000-07:00

"Because nothing in this universe happens just once. Infinity goes in both directions; there is no unique event, no singular moment... It means you'll get another chance."

Booth: ...and God does not make mistakes.
Angela: Mm, putting testicles on the outside did not seem like a good idea.
-Bones

Analyzing graphs is very much like solving puzzles.
Damn, I used to love solving puzzles.
Come on, Amelia, just need to power through one more week. Though life has been so devoid of... everything lately. It's been so long since I baked, and paradoxically, I can't wait to move in, but am dreading going back to school. If you convince yourself that you don't need something for long enough, it suddenly becomes true. Sometimes I wish I had bigger feet. And smaller boobs.
Whenever I watch crime shows, it makes me want to be a crime fighter. And then they get trapped underground... and I'm good again.
I wish Wantworthy had shopping capabilities. It never ceases to annoy me when I want 2 things from UO, 1 thing from Nasty Gal, and 1 thing from f21 and I can't get free shipping from any of them. We've combined everything else; someone better start working on making some... universal shopping cart (free shipping over $100).
I am a sucker for sappy books, songs, TV shows. Waiting for two characters to get together sets me on edge.
Obsessions so unfocused; I'm obsessed with everything. Ambition: food science, flavor development, growth and preservation. Everyone's gotta eat.
Time machine, time machine.

black and red and white

2011-08-03T17:57:00.000-07:00

I like to test you,

you who are around me.

I like to distance myself

so letting go becomes that much easier

I purposely hurt myself

metaphorically

and literally

because I think I deserve it

and because I know I don't deserve you

I have suspect reasons to you

because my wavelength never matches that of normal people

so I can't expect you to understand.

I enjoy torturing myself

because I feel everyone else would love to.

the way we were

2011-07-23T19:35:00.000-07:00

The way we used to be.

"I just wish we could go back to the way we used to be."

The way we used to be is uninhibited, sheltered, lighthearted
we used to be relentless
to declare that forever is not so long.

The way we used to be is whimsical, dependable, threatening
before distance tore down this not-so-sturdy friendship.

The way we used to be is argumentative, stubborn, complacent
unforgivably attached to something
one-sided.

The way we are now is splintered, resentful, crooked.
The way I am now is pretending, lonely, ordinary.

I just wish I could go back to the way we used to be.

and still this song does not cease to be the only ballad I hear to and from class on the radio

lazy mornings

2011-06-12T20:45:00.000-07:00

slow nights

you really only need a few at a time

five, I'm told, is the ideal

fake it
pretend it's not there
but i only need someone like you
such unfortunate happenings
and i wish they'd stay out of my way
growing a strange
dependency
and i can tell it's perilous
entire evenings of nothing
keep thinking ahead
when you will drive the opposite way
leaving me behind
to drown in what's left

rant: stupid.

2011-06-10T09:10:00.000-07:00

The reason why: people.
Collecting thoughts.
Things that make me unsettled.
Things that make me furious.
Things that make me suicidal.
Because these things make life...ugly.
The reasons why: ignorance.
Lack of self-awareness.
Inconsideration.

To whomever this may concern,

to the holy divine all-powerful everything

whoever you may be

Do you watch me when I stare?
Out at the small section of a world I used to think I loved.
And the ambition running through me
all the things I want to do
but do you purposefully dull the windows
the transparent shield I don't know I'm hiding behind
so to separate the fire from the ice
and now the collisions that flash before me
the crying daughters
and sorrowful mothers
the fake friends I've filled with pathetic expectations
the sample representation of a humanity gone to ruins
Can you hear my echoing thoughts?
You choose the inherent good in all of us
but daft are those thoughts when you look beyond the square you stand in
see the violence and brutality and hurtful words
I can imagine
she is walking down the street, mind fogged and bogged down with personal issues
he is driving up the street, happiness in his pockets and eyes brimming with joy
but do they realize the extending miles-long radius of hatred?
You are trying hard
and succeeding too
to strip me bare of any remaining hope
would you adopt the sentiments had your world been shattered, life been effectively ended by one not-so-little incident?
or maybe you are just better than me
maybe you don't know the terror, the bloody fantasies, the constant waiting for my wholesome end
a consistent worry turned to habitual fear
the helpless grasping onto frayed strings of possibly's
followed by the impending drop, hitting every jagged rock and sharp edge on the way
I'm sorry to admit to myself
the loss of faith in this place
as forcefully inescapable as it is detrimental.

quick lived

2011-06-10T08:31:00.000-07:00

Just a really quick short story I typed out during breaks at work.

I want to work with Alzheimer's patients.

Letters to Memories

~~Hey Jesse~~

~~Hi,~~

Jesse,

Sometimes I feel like we just met yesterday. Maybe two days ago. If I could be with you again, I think I would feel different around you now. Like a stranger. And I forget that we grew up not three feet apart. I forget that we shared almost everything because neither of us had siblings, that we built expansive forts out of blankets and pillows only to fall asleep in them side by side. I used to tease you about your name, how it was the same as my favorite character in Toy Story 2. “You have a girl’s name!” I would shout whenever I was feeling especially spiteful.

I forget that we grew apart as quickly as we bonded, and you should know I still regret holding the door open for you to leave.

Stella

Jesse,

They tell me I should start keeping a journal. To remember. Sometimes I convince myself that there is nothing worth remembering anymore. Especially now that you are on the other side of the country. I imagine you must be enjoying yourself, the sunny weather, the chill people. It must be nice. Much nicer than here, I bet. You’re probably making tons of friends, as you were always apt to do. So easily. I was always so jealous.

You probably wouldn’t want anything to do with me anymore. After what I did. And now. Oh, God, especially not now.

Mother worries about me all the time. She’s got her hands full with Tristan, so she can’t do anything but worry. She misses you too, you know. I think she almost needs you more than I do.

Stella

Jesse,

I feel like I’m writing to the wind. They say it’s healthy to write to yourself too, gathering your thoughts on paper, making them tangible so you can believe what you are saying. I’m not so sure. You know I used to try, but it never helped. I wonder if these letters might be as much as a bothersome as I was in person. I could just imagine your reaction upon receiving the first one.

Stella? What could she possibly have to say to me?

What could I possibly have to say to her?

Next to nothing?

I don’t hold it against you, of course. It took me so long to actually pick up a pen and scribble your name across the top of my old, blue and purple stationary. I entertained the idea for long enough. Entertained it since the day after you left. I suppose it’s a little bit pathetic that I could only bring myself to do it after they told me I would slowly wash away. Mother cried the entire day that day after getting back from the hospital. I just locked myself in my room. I didn’t want to believe it. I still don’t want to believe it. But whenever I can’t find my sunglasses or whenever I take a little bit longer to deliver an order to a table, I feel my stomach cave in, and my heart comes to a complete stop, and my entire body aches for your once-familiar arms to wrap me tight and hold me there.

Hold me there so I won’t drop to my knees in a heap of self-pity and hurt.

Stella

Jesse,

Today I drove past the little gelato parlor. Did you know that it’s closing down? This sleepy little town is not immune to the new frozen yogurt trend sweeping through the nation. And poor Beth and Todd can’t seem to keep up with the renovation costs. As if the leaking pipes weren’t enough, last week’s storm knocked the back wall right in. A couple people in the neighborhood offered to raise donations to save our little mine of memories, but it just didn’t cut it. I suppose there goes our summer days of sitting on the swinging bench, licking tall scoops of raspberry sorbetto and chocolate hazelnut gelato.

A couple years after you left, I finally took Matty with me. He thought the chocolate hazelnut was too sweet, too rich. And he didn’t insist on paying for my cone like you always did. Afterwards, he talked obnoxiously into his phone, and I almost cried as we swayed motionlessly on the bench.

I’m sorry I let him invade our private memories.

Stella

Jesse,

I watched The Notebook three times today: once with Geena, once with Mother and Tristan, and once before I drifted off to sleep. I envy Allie. I like to dream my life will play out much like hers. Tristan has started to call me Ellie. When he does, I hear your voice.

This might sound stupid, but I miss the way you say my name. There was just something special and warm about the way you pronounced those two easy syllables. It’s getting harder and harder to play back the sound in my mind, and I try to recreate it on my tongue, but it falls flat, doesn’t float the way it does off your lips.

Stella

Jesse,

Eight was the golden years. All of our best stories begin “When I was eight…” Eight was when our parents took us down to Florida for the first time. I still have the scrapbook designated for this vacation. You and me and our wide smiles, perched atop Mickey’s lap. You, pouting beside Cinderella because I whined until you finally agreed to be in the picture with me. Me, flourishing a round lollipop the size of my little head while waiting for you to get off the rollercoaster I was too short to ride.

Eight was when we raced each other up and down the hills. I had to pedal twice as hard to keep up with you. You never let me win, and I appreciate that now. I still feel awful for the day your mom berated you for my scraped up knee. The scars are still there, dirtying up my otherwise pale legs. I’m reminded of how you skidded to a stop, dropped your bike carelessly on the road, and lifted me to my feet so I could limp home on your shoulder every time I look down.

Eight was when you snuck Liam’s Lake Placid DVD into my house so we could watch our first horror together. By the middle of the movie, I was tucked under two blankets, a tight fetal ball pressed against your side. You told me to man up but I caught glimpses of your hand flying up to cover your already squeezed shut eyes. I never told you this, but I outgrew that fear by the following month and only opted for horrors over comedies so to have an excuse to curl up next to you again.

Stella

Jesse,

I might sound crazy, but I can feel myself deteriorating into mush. Some days, I even wake up with a vivid sensation of my brain oozing out my ears.

Stella

Jesse,

I apologize for the previous letter.

I held it against you for months after you called me melodramatic and over-reactive. Threw the insult back at your face and continuously told myself it wasn’t true. I was insecure for those months, more insecure than I’ve ever been.

I think that was half the reason why I didn’t care when you walked out. I thought I would be better off without you, actually.

You should know that I made a huge mistake. Matty never compared, and I’m ashamed to admit that when you walked out, my thoughts immediately shifted to him. I thought I could depend on him like I never realized I did on you.

Stella

Jesse,

If you were still here, I imagine we would stock the freezer with cartons of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream and bounce memories off each other. I would ask you about your favorites before telling you mine.

Mother wants me to remember, so she compiles her own scrapbooks, says it’s thankful that I always loved putting together my own since the first book Aunt Lorlei gave me for my sixth birthday. (And Mother thought my little fingers were too clumsy to glue photographs onto colored papers.) You’re in almost every single chronicle I’ve made since. All of them except my family reunion, which was so hectic, it warranted its own book.

Our lives, documented and forever engraved in my faltering mind. There are no misinterpretations or misrepresentations. What do you have? You rely on spotty memories, all of which can be suppressed, pushed somewhere you will never access, and I will forever be but a ghost of your past. And that idea scares me every day.

Stella

Jesse,

I’ve started to make copies of my letters. As a precaution. I want to be able to respond accordingly…if you ever write back.

Stella

Jesse,

I saw the glimmer of grief in Mother’s eyes when her best friend came to the door with a pan of assorted cookies, and I couldn’t recognize her. I finally did; it just took some time. Her face friendly enough, plastered with a smile only 50’s house moms would wear. Familiarity only dawned on me when we made solid eye contact as she passed the warm pan over to me.

I tried my best to answer the standard How are you doing? questions before shutting myself away to stare at my hands. I didn’t realize I painted my nails a bright red, the shade you always hated. When I started to ink your name onto this new sheet of paper, your eyes didn’t appear to me, sparkling like disco balls.

I keep your picture by my bed now. First thing I see when I open my eyes, last thing I see when I close them. Maybe this way, I’ll never forget you.

Stella

Jesse,

Did I ever tell you about the new neighbors? They’re a bit ostentatious. The daughter is fifteen and drives a BMW as a practice car. She steps out in oversized sunglasses and sequined shirts to do a couple laps around the neighborhood with her little toy dog. I think she judges me when she sees me laid out on a picnic blanket with bags of chips and containers of salsa.

I never enjoyed the sun as much as I do now. I like the warmth of it on my back, calves, toes. Tristan lays out with me, Gameboy in hand, when the sun isn’t cast directly overhead. When it rains, I stay out just long enough for the rain drops to drench me, head to toe. As if the rainwater could wash away my problems. Just wipe my memory clean entirely, so I don’t feel as if I have to struggle to hang on.

Stella

Jesse,

Sometimes I convince myself that this is a blessing. You must know what it’s like to live with so many regrets. I wish I could stay up all night listening to them again – how ungrateful I was before to have you there. I remember way back when I actually wished my memories would just disappear. If I had to lose them all, then it wouldn’t be such a bad thing because the nightmares definitely outweigh the dreams. Even you. If I lost all of you, I would never know I lost you in the first place.

Stella

Jesse,

They watch me write now. I think I know why. They want to observe my facial expressions, see when my eyebrows furrow with frustration, when my eyes cloud with solemnity. When they flash with recognition, when my lips turn upward with serenity and a thankful awareness. Mother reminds me of you everyday. She knows as well as I do that this is the only therapy I will respond to.

She retells me stories. Sometimes I recognize them from the day before. Apparently, I listen to others as if she is telling me for the first time. I ask her questions, she says. That’s how she knows. I detect the shakey undertone of her voice, as if she is holding back a dam of tears. When she leaves, closes the door behind her, I cry, too. I cry until I swear my body is incapable of producing anymore tears. Until my arms tremor, and reaching out to switch off the light becomes a difficult task. My legs and feet go numb, and I almost feel paralyzed, afraid to move lest they fall clean from the hip.

Sometimes I get angry. I want to throw things, watch the walls around me slowly shatter with each blow.

Then I see it. I see the stacks of reels of our life, a long movie that we never thought would end. I see you and me running half-naked through the sprinklers. I see my mother’s already-dead flower garden fill with muddy water, and we dig trenches. We create channels, and unearth a large pool. We stomp and squeeze the mud, play swamp monster or spa day.

I would watch until the insides of my eyelids go blank, and my mind is blanketed with ominous darkness. I am faintly aware of the fact that tomorrow, I may not remember what I just saw, and I try but I can’t cling to it for long.

Stella

Jesse,

Game number 47362 of solitaire. I haven’t found anything else that will hold me for long. I do look at my collection of scrapbooks, but I just can’t bring myself to make another. I’m not really creating memories anyways. When my fingers get raw from shuffling cards, I take of few of Tristan’s children’s books and read those. I’ve moved up to short chapter books that can be read in one sitting.

I’ve even skimmed through my first diary. It was bittersweet.

Stella

Jesse,

Days feel shorter and shorter. I am regressing into an infant.

But at least I am met with new wonders every day. Mother has taken up gardening, and I am watching her hunched over her beloved flowerbeds, vaguely aware that tomorrow, I will watch her with the same curiosity. I suppose it hurts to know that, but what was once burning denial is starting to settle into a calm acceptance.

It occurs to me that soon, you will be but dust in the wind. The remnants of a life that wasn’t even worth living. Degenerating neural connections, rendering all interpretation and sentiment into nothing more than chemicals and biological processes. Whether now or later, I have come to the conclusion that our childhood was always a superfluous addition to the speck that is a lifespan. When put that way, I don’t feel so bad. I even feel put at ease.

Knowing I would live on in nothing or no one except faltering and tainted memories. Knowing one day, you too will vanish from the face of this planet.

Stella

Jesse,

I refuse to get out of bed. Mother even has to take these letters down to the post office. She brings me trays of microwave dinners and canned soups, all of which I dump outside the window for the insects and rodents to pick away. I eat the apples, sometimes the little triangles of grocery store cake. But nothing else.

I can’t walk down the street without struggling to remember where I am. I can’t pass by strangers without cringing to know two years ago, we could have been best friends.

I can’t even begin a letter without thoroughly reminding myself to whom I am writing to.

Stella

Hi Jesse,

I picture your face, fresh at the forefront of my mind. I try to draw and redraw every detail, from every crinkle around your eyes when you smile to every scar I used to trace on your legs.

I’m sorry I just can’t remember who you are.

~~Stella~~

Love Stella

this makes me itchy

2011-06-07T11:35:00.000-07:00

Forgive,

not.

Forget,

never.

Busy little body

sticks her pointed nose

in unwarranted business

Colored brown from digging

creating stupid conjectures

from stupid lies

Helpless little sweetheart

not so sweet anymore

muddies her face

in my puddle of now-problems

Makes me want to scream

makes me kick with rage

Fucking prima donna

stay the hell out of my life.

feeding fantasies

2011-05-31T19:57:00.000-07:00

I know... in fact, I am certain that I love you.

You are judging me
real hard

as you always do, I'm sure.

But sometimes I wish away.
I wish for an incomparable feeling
only he could give.

A more gentle touch,
compassionate sweep
and I might be immediately off my feet.

Sometimes my little wants are inappropriate
because I know that I am still in love with you.

credit

that is your conscience

2011-05-31T19:43:00.000-07:00

That's not me.

I wasn't supposed to be that girl.

I am the whisper in the hollow winds
I know you can't hear me.

like slender vines embracing wooden posts
his breath
heavy along her trembling flesh
softly, softly his touch
faint goosebumps rush the terrain of her quivering,
broken limbs
like fitting a golden key into a fragrant lock
she folds under his cotton weight
curving together
around the rocky mountain slopes

I watch his feminine fingers tiptoe about the crevices of my body.
I felt waves of shudders rise and fall within me.

markedly invisible

2011-05-25T16:58:00.000-07:00

I once thought that if I could just speak loud enough, they would hear me and respond.
It came to a point when I was screaming at the top of the lungs for the whole world to ignore.

Uncomfortable as we all are in our own devices,
so too was I in everyone else's.
Where I used to think I could shed my most intimate skins, I must reevaluate.
Damages. Irreparable damages you thrust upon me.
I apologize because I cannot carry it all.
For the final time, I will feel my whole self shatter into regrettable pieces,
and I will turn around and walk and walk and walk... until I am running at full speed. Away.

Maybe I will change it all.

Maybe you drained the life out of me.

mental stability

2011-05-20T09:55:00.000-07:00

Coming back down from the school year.

Learning who I mesh with and who I don't.

Realizing some people just aren't good for me.

Don't know what to do about it.

With some people, you'll always be sort of an outsider.

Only included because it's expected.

Judged when you're away.

Bringing out the absolute worst in you.

Did I offend you

when I expressed to you

my maladies?

Then did I offend you

when I blamed you

because I could not blame myself

anymore?

But do you care

or are you just insecure?

With other people, you'll always feel normal.

history

2011-05-07T15:51:00.000-07:00

I don't know much about my parents' history given that they never actively talk about it (unless it is relevant to something), and I never really asked.

But I was talking to Jeanette and Alicia about being shipped to China as an infant because the rents were still in school/couldn't actively raise a child, and today, I asked my dad about that.

My parents have always been young relative to my friend's parents. Apparently they got married when they were 20/21 and finished with college in the U.S. so keeping me wasn't too much of a problem I guess. My grandparents had visa problems (as is expected with anything related to obtaining legal documents) and requested my parents send me to China, but they opted against it. Thanks mom and dad; I'm pretty certain that if I were able to actively develop memories as a newborn, I would've preferred sunny Florida to... China, especially considering my earliest memories of the place are all tinted gray (this would be when I was 7 or 8 when I first visited).

It sort of blows my mind, jump-starting your life at 21. I would be a junior in college if I'm lucky.

(sidenote: fuck GPA requirements. I want to take junior year "off").

Anyways, my dad proceeded to tell me that two years before I was conceived/born (don't remember which), my mom got pregnant. But she was still in school, showing intense symptoms of pregnancy, and I guess there was no way she was going to let a baby ruin her education (which I approve of/agree with wholeheartedly).

"So... she got an abortion?"

Duh, Amelia, where else would the baby be? Retard.

Yeah, it just took a minute to process, okay?

"You wouldn't be here then," Dad laughed.

Yeah.

My bipolar self can't decide what to think of it.

On the one hand, it sort of makes me see why my parents would adore me more, having had to give up their technical first. I'm pretty sure they were set on having just one child. My baby brother exists because I wanted him... or a dog (as I always tell him and everyone else... but it's true, really).

So I guess if school wasn't an issue, I really wouldn't be here. Even if he/she wanted a younger sibling. No way, it would be me.

Something I know for sure are that if the first was a boy, and he did want a sibling, and the second was a girl, her name (or... my name?) would be Amelia, since it was always decided that a boy would be Alfred, and a girl would be Amelia. I never asked my dad what game plan would be if they popped out two girls or two boys. That can be our next conversation.

To have an older sibling has always been preferred for me. I'm sort of upset that didn't happen.

I guess I sort of appreciate life in the sentimental sense when I think about the positive side.

On the other hand, I'm even more tortured by the fact that I am an utter disappointment. He/she could have been great, smarter, faster, stronger, overall better than me.

You know the theory about alternate universes? Every possible outcome of every situation is represented in another universe. Hmm..

At least my mom didn't have to survive to see her first born fail her miserably.

Well that's what Alfred's for.

Alfred. He is our family's hope, I guess.

P.S. He has a nicer phone than me... with Internet.

Wtf.

EDIT:
P.P.S.
I have an elevated risk for heart attack and bipolar disorder. A lowered risk for type 1 diabetes and restless leg syndrome. And a typical risk for obesity and breast cancer.
I am also 100% Asian.
Thank you, 23 and me.
Also, this is my brain :)

+ $100

Love psych studies.

apologies

2011-05-05T23:26:00.000-07:00

He rapped on the door after counting out sixteen Mississippi-seconds, a suitable time frame for his two friends to walk down the hall and two flights of stairs.

She rolled off her bed, pulling at the loose strands of hair, an attempt to look decent to no avail.

"Oh, hi."

Her heart dropped right down to her feet. She could almost feel the dampness that would be a pool of warm blood.

He smiled, slowly pushing his hair out of his face.

"Hey, can I come in?"

"Why?"

He shrugged, a little taken aback, but not at all surprised by her uncharacteristically unfriendly response. Although she has brushed off his existence for the past few months.

"Talk?"

She pulled the door ajar and leaned her face into the edge, stepping aside to let him by.

"Okay. Sorry, everything's such a mess."

"It's cool."

He laughed softly.

A memory dragged to the surface.

"So what's up? When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow afternoon. You?"
"Same. I still have so much to pack."

"Oh, yeah. I got a couple more things too."

"It's weird seeing everything disappear."

"Yeah."

A beat.

He coughed into his fist, pushing back his hair again. Eyes tracing the obvious dip of her waist down to the end of the healthy curve of her hip. A change, he noted.

She watched his eyes flash under the dim light fixture. The last time was by the light of a street lamp through the window. She felt hot and turned away.

"So..."

"Just wanted to know how you were doing."

She laughed in disbelief, half-rolling her eyes.

"Right. Uh, I'm fine."

He took a step towards her, backing her into her bed. Another memory of the last time his face was this close to hers.

"Are you...?"

"What?"

She turned slightly, shifting her glance to a spot on the ground behind him. Her throat started itching, and she tried to suppress a cough.

"What happened?"

"What happened when?"

"You're so awkward now."

She took in the familiar scent, resentful of his comment. Wanting to push him away, hard. But she shrunk away, passive and in character. He closed the door carefully just in time to block out the stampede that raced past.

"Or you are just a dick."

It came out, barely a whisper, and she felt her cheeks flush with anger.

He chose to ignore it, or maybe he didn't actually hear it. Taking her fingers in his hand, he leaned in further, eyelids dropping heavily.

She craned her neck as if gasping for air, his nose connecting with the slope of her shoulder, but he fell into it as naturally as he could, leaving a trail of light kisses along the curve of her neck. She shrunk away further, forced to shove him away.

"Don't touch me."

significant other

2011-05-04T19:05:00.000-07:00

"Marriage is not romance. It's a contract with the state. It's an investment for the future. I'm not making it about money. It just is."

Truth. That's why I would be okay with just living with someone.

But I'm not okay with doing this for three years. Not okay at all.

hurt me

2011-05-03T08:33:00.000-07:00

She felt each word
like a blow to the head,
and her heart
ached for compassion.

sup brah

2011-04-28T12:35:00.000-07:00

Yeah, amen to that.

major disappointment

2011-04-27T20:57:00.000-07:00

Literally can't deal with myself right now.

How can I fuck up again?

I should just go throw myself off the balcony...twice.

Do you ever entertain the idea of dating random people?

By 'random' I mean because you aren't totally attracted to them, not 'random' like that shady character you passed on the street corner.

I imagine what it'd be like sometimes. The pros and the cons. Role play in my mind how things would play out, what kind of boyfriend he might be, whether he'd feel lucky to have me.

It's sort of like developing a crush.

A crush is building him up in your mind, sweating when he passes you by, and dreaming of his little actions every night. He could never match up to your expectations. But it is more the thrill of being completely in like with a stranger.

Maybe that's why subject A is now unappealing to me. Because I got to know him too much...yet not enough.

Do you ever wonder what good friends converse about?

It's something I never really notice until I find myself racking my brain for something to say when the other person isn't supporting me.

And what about what makes someone memorable?

in her purse, how about after she's dead?

2011-04-25T09:40:00.000-07:00

I glance around the cluttered room with my hands on my hips, sweat already trickling down my back. And I haven't even started sifting through the endless cardboard boxes and plastic trash bags filled with equal parts treasure and junk.
Buried somewhere lies the secrets of my past. I envisioned discovering my family's gems, the tangible things that would be proof of my existence, of the farfetched stories I was told as a young girl. I believed every one of them.

It was certainly not a one-day job. My parents were pack rats and experts at lugging home unnecessary buys. I used to revel in the novelty for a couple days until my one-track mind found something a little bit more interesting to occupy itself with, and so their fantastic find would be thrown amongst the rest of them, amassing to the collection I see today.
I shamelessly tossed aside things like I could toss memories out of my mind. I could forget the people who left, and the emptiness would be filled anew, for I knew no loss.
The day they set me free, I took full advantage. It was finally cutting the metaphorical umbilical cord that my mother kept wrapped tight around my neck.
They say your relationship with your family is reflective of all your other relationships.
Somewhere here lies the story I was never told, the explanation I was never given.

I miss home, so much.
Like I never thought I would.
Upon returning to my dorm every Sunday night after a weekend at my dining room table, I fell heavier (not just physically). Triggered by unnecessary stress (that was the outcome of my own laziness and procrastination), I was unable to stop the tears anymore.
I want out.
I think about everything they've done for me, and I feel completely ashamed to be who I am today.
Can you technically throw away a future you were never given?
I'm sorry, daddy. I love you, mommy.
But I don't deserve this.

"We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty."
-Maya Angelou

in love with this:

courtesy

far away

2011-04-22T08:01:00.000-07:00

I would run off the ends of the earth

just to see if you would follow me

escape from your wayward glance

to deny that you had taken me

I would write novels, spill my entire being

onto dusty pages for you

weave myself a convenient story

to excuse your subtle indecency

I would sacrifice my last tears

unravel the hopeless dreams in two

and watch the sky shatter into millions

to achieve perfection just for you

I would reform the last traces of me
and strip away all the painful memories
before I let myself near you again
to walk away, far away, the next time.

sigh of relief

2011-04-20T15:19:00.000-07:00

that feeling when you've lost something you love so much, use all the time, and cost a lot...

now,

that feeling when you (or your roommate) finds it.

now I need to find that spray paint painting from SanFran...

EDIT:
half naked
~~ice showered~~
fan full blasted

still hot

not appreciating this Carolina weather
(and not appreciating the 50k paid for... no ac)

Yet another slow night at work. Still pining for a restaurant/cafe job.

"I don't even know what straight is." -Ann navigating from Tutti Frutti (new love of life, by the way)

Alicia's predatory philosophies (if she was a boy): "She's cute... but I wouldn't want to put my dick in her." and "It's like a present you can unwrap."

Liann's philosophy: "Guys should never dictate your life. They should be the cherry on top of what is already there."

"Ew, like when you're doctor is fat. Seriously, don't tell me about being healthy." -Laura (the splash of pink happiness is my otherwise dull life)
"I feel like I'm sitting across from a three year old." -Jeanette (Hi, my name is Amelia, and I am an embarrassing human being.)

I love.

making lists and checking off as i go

2011-04-20T09:46:00.000-07:00

Scatter-brained thoughts:

I hate hypocrites... but I'm sort of hypocritical in the sense that it affects me psychologically when people are unhappy with themselves to the point where I don't want to hear it because it'll damage me more, but it's hard for me to stop bitching about myself too.

You're still ridiculous.

I'm not sure what it is, but I feel like I'm always going to be just a little bit excited when I see you. Passed agonizing over how I fucked myself over in regards to you. Done retreating into myself in awkwardice when you come within three feet of me. Now, just enjoying your smile whenever we incidentally make eye contact.

If I have to pay for this fucking bike, I'm going to transfer.

But no, I'm not fucking paying for it.
Reason #38745 why I hate doing favors for people...

5.

I like that we cleared things up. All previous worries... disappear.

Along the lines of transferring... should I?

Yes:

saves my parents a shitload of money (they are basically literally paying for me to fail)

already lived through my raging slut phase... don't need the cover of this school's bent rules anymore
probably wouldn't feel as retarded as I do now, wouldn't feel like I don't deserve to be where I am, wouldn't feel like I am incapable and insignificant

more interesting classes
change of pace

starting all over

No:
starting all over

won't be able to do DukeEngage :(
credit messiness

3.1 GPA won't get me anywhere
too lazy...

7.
Wish wholeheartedly I had taken the chance to move to CA.
Wish wholeheartedly I had applied to CA schools.

8.
To parents,
I'm sorry I'm such an utter disappointment.

Don't fuck up with little brother.

-Daughter

I want to be for you what you are for me.

10.

Tattoo.

11.

To do list this summer: transform, reinvent, change completely.

12.

I'm too forgetful, dependent, irresponsible, and careless to handle myself.

Maybe because I was never really given the chance to be completely independent.

13.

I guess I believe people can change. But I don't believe people's opinions of people can change (that easily). It upsets me that to them, I'll always be "that girl who ___[enter negative description here]____".

And you can tell me otherwise, but it upsets me that you won't admit that you still hold those opinions about me.

14.

I don't like inconsistent people.

15.

pretty little thing

2011-04-18T21:02:00.000-07:00

pretty little dreams
why don't things turn out the way we dream them to?

I imagine you in shining white

I imagine you are going to save me.
why don't you save me?

sometimes I feel like college is not really the place for me.

sometimes I miss you so much it hurts
and I pretend we are back to the way we were before.

I belong out there
learning from the world
not from enclosed walls
I feel so pressured
caving in from all around
I really shouldn't be here. I don't belong here.

I like to pretend I am near death
and live like I truly want to live
wasteful but fully
without constraints
without worry or forethought
I want to kill time the way time should be murdered
I want to dedicate to the things that matter
and not to the things that don't

these things hold me back
who I am inherently
and what I'm afraid of causing

and I like to think that if none of this mattered
I could love me
truly love myself.

dinner

2011-04-17T18:31:00.000-07:00

"I had like... 4 and a half chickens."
"Wait, how many drumsticks does a chicken have?"
"We're like angels of happiness."
"Poke her."

The something new I learned today: In addition to the 1:30 it takes to brew coffee, it also takes another 1:30 for it to drip.

EDIT:
"real eyes realize real lies"

trust me, you're perfect

2011-04-15T12:36:00.000-07:00

Typical Disney song, but I kind of love it...

scene from titanic

2011-04-15T11:21:00.000-07:00

yeah?

your sole purpose for me

is to keep my days interesting
to brighten my day
just a bit
at random
and unexpectedly

work with me

2011-04-14T22:52:00.000-07:00

At work.

prostituting myself for money.

just kidding.

only soliciting.

blogging and downloading music when I should be reading for seminar.

how that class drains me.

****

continuing from compsci lab.
really don't want to be here.
got 0-3 hours of sleep because I decided it would be plausible to manually transfer 2000+ music files from iPod to computer.
(have 365 left. gave up. guess I'll just redownload the songs I miss)

****

sleep sleep sleep bed bed bed
not doing work
I'm an extremely ambitious person with a crazy imagination
too bad I'm lazy, slow, and unintelligent

****

hello future
we once all thought you were so bright
but then I grew up.

our separate ways

2011-04-13T09:33:00.000-07:00

It is the final summer they could spend together before everyone goes their separate ways, undoubtedly only to return a different person. It is the last few months as naive children.
Austin is moving across the country to Seattle.
Johnny is the first in his family to attend college, and no one knows how often, if at all, he'll be back.
James is job hunting, unsure of where he'll finally end up.
Peter is taking a year off to backpack in Europe, typical.
Duncan isn't going anywhere.
Neither is his best friend Kevin.

The sun is just beginning to set on a wasted day. The boys had spent all morning drinking beers and rating girls' assets by the town's secluded watering hole. No one goes there anymore, but one could still catch a good bucket-full of catfish with patience and the right kind of bait.
Austin proposed revisiting their old smoking spot one last time. Rumor has it that the wealthy Atlases have bought out the empty lot with ambitious plans for a recreation center to give kids an alternative to drugs. Irony.
This is where the boys spent most of their weekends: a little clearing with a rotting picnic bench, surrounded by thickets of bushes and trees, so the smell of pot wouldn't travel far, wouldn't draw the attention of passersby (who tended to avoid the area for fear of serpents anyways).

James is hesitant because recently, a sizable garden has sprung up near the clearing. Flower buds were blooming and vines were creeping up their wooden poles. Someone was coming here and on a pretty consistent basis judging by the oft-wet mud and garden tools spread across the ground.

The threat of being caught never stopped Austin though, and so they went.

One last time.

Austin, as the unofficial leader, is always prepared.

After passing around two joints, shoulders drop, eyelids are heavy, torsos sway with the light summer breeze. Wholehearted laughter fills the enclosed air, and voices rise to clouds above, racing across the sky as if they have somewhere to be.
Seven years ago, they were here, eating lunches of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches James' mom neatly packed into brown paper bags, chucking the apples at trees for target practice. Seven years ago, they were here, ducking behind bushes and weaving through tree trunks in a friendly game of Indians and cowboys. Duncan, the youngest, was always the first to die. Seven years ago, they were here, dragging their baseball bats along the dirt ground after a long game in the hot sun. Peter followed, under the weight of water bottles and towels, sweating more profusely than the others because of his weight.

After all were satisfied, they stand up in unison and make their way to the edge of the small forest, emerging only after the road is clear of cars and bicyclists.

They walk, two by two, down to the main road and sit in a line curbside, watching the people in their fancy sports cars race against time, completely unaware of the precious moments they're leaving behind.

torturing my body

2011-04-12T20:23:00.000-07:00

erratic eating pattern
lack of sleep for unproductive reasons
fluctuating weather

college-induced stress

==

headaches
woozy dizzy

fever and chills

brick caught in throat
nonstop coughing

body aches all over

haven't felt this shitty since last semester.

reminds me of
crying hysterically exacerbating the poor state my lungs were already in
trailing behind everyone else

shivering, huddled within myself

dying

slowly dying

and he wouldn't give it a rest

sipping on hot tea

but it wasn't the object so much as it was the thought

wrapping myself in winter wear I neglected to bring myself

because I am myopic

chest reverberating with each strain, sleep does not come so easily

tearing me apart

as he researched my condition

dying

slowly dying

but he didn't bother to care

you're. so. hypnotizing.

2011-04-12T12:53:00.000-07:00

"Kiss me, k-k-kiss me.
infect me with your loving,

fill me with your poison."

-Katy Perry

****

"Never let them think you have something to lose," she used to repeat, like a mantra for me to fall asleep to. And that is how I carried myself for eighteen years.
She was no longer a part of my life by that time, and every time I think about that event, I wish I had never let her walk out of the door. She would surely murder me if she knew what I did.

Our meeting was nothing out of the ordinary. Except that you stared right at me, as few people tend do. And I knew, or thought I knew, that I had your attention.

I let you crash right into me. For this, I'll never forgive myself.
I knew better than this, and she did too. And she knew I knew better than this.
We were two broken souls, forced to confront the evils of love, and through that, we bonded, learned all of life lessons together, and you would never catch either of us spilling tears for someone like you.

Somehow, I was aware you were just another face in the crowd, waiting to push me over the edge with any chance you could get. Somehow, I knew everything you did was only to make me believe we were growing closer and closer, slowly but surely. I am even convinced you planned everything out step by step, already sure you were going to have complete and total access to my chambers, already counting days until you could take all of me just to toss me aside like one of your stupid conquests.

Amassing self-confidence became self-loathing in an instant.
How I missed my other half, heart breakers throughout our six years together (although there were no hearts to break).
I should have known I was nothing special. Nothing about me is special.
She would tell me otherwise. She would fill my pretty little mind with pretty little lies about my pretty little face. And I would soak up every word, hanging on every image I wanted for myself.
But truth be told, she was the alluring one.
I envied her, and that is ultimately what ruined us.
She was effortlessly beautiful, wake-up-roll-out-of-bed beautiful.
Mouths dropped like pigeons from telephone wires when she glided by to meet me. I might as well have been invisible with her, and I was.

She knew exactly who she was, what effect she had on people. It was this quality that drew me to her like a butterfly to nectar.
I wanted so much to be like her.

When I finally rid myself of her, the ball and chain that held me back for most of my pubescent years, I could feel myself becoming her (though still far less attractive in every sense of the word).
It was this part of me that you saw.
It was this part of me that you stripped away.

I still remember clearly the words you said to me, burning the air, inking themselves onto the nonexistent pages in my mind.
You were so tender in dealing with me, so misleading.
I have tried so hard to smile brightly at you on the rare occasions that our paths should cross again, to pretend I wanted you out of my life as much as you did me.
But you should probably know that you were the something that I always had to lose.

****

"The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it."

-Oscar Wilde

are you there?

2011-04-11T14:34:00.000-07:00

are you so perfect that you can see right through me?

that you can separate me and

strip me,

piece by piece.

but you failed to lay me out,

to examine my every inch,

even those pieces I keep hidden underneath darker and darker layers.

you failed to fall into

the white outline I drew for you,

the hole I dug for you

to step right into.

for this I never noticed you,

you in the way one speaks

or strolls.

I never felt you,

your breath on my temple when you relaxed your whole body

and held me.

am I so oblivious that I let you pass right through me?

that we gave up before

I could happen to pull you back.

that we would have a second chance..

ashes to ashes, but

dust to gold.

eating my feelings

2011-04-10T20:51:00.000-07:00

I know it wasn't long ago that I wrote my self-improvement post.

But I'm failing that already.
Because my insecurities are all situational, not fabricated.
And that can't be changed.

So this will just dictate my life.

Dinner:
flakey bread, cheesy rice casserole, cereal, meringue pie, chocolate chip cookie

I. Am. A. Fat. Fatass.

But if life would just stop being upsetting, I wouldn't need to seek comfort from food.

Why would you take that away from me?

meh
They don't exist.

wreck, explicit.

2011-04-10T14:12:00.000-07:00

"And I can't breathe without you, but I have to.
...

It's 2AM, feeling like I just lost a friend
hope you know it's not easy for me."

-Taylor Swift

She set up a buffet on her bed and plopped down in the middle of it all.

Just as with her life, she hardly knew where to start.

She dropped a piece of herself each time,

knowing the fault rests entirely on her shoulders.

She's frustrated that things always end the way they do for her:

without proper closure.

be happy. he loves you.

2011-04-10T09:45:00.000-07:00

"This happens every week. I'm so annoyed."

-Jeanette, in regards to her hickey.

"Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes."
— Rosemary Urquico

:))))))

Vertigo

by Anne Stevenson

Mind led body

to the edge of the precipice.

They stared in desire

at the naked abyss.

If you love me, said mind,

take that step into silence.

If you love me, said body,

turn and exist.

purging

2011-04-08T09:37:00.000-07:00

Things consumed in middle of night:

Cookout burger and hush puppies

Jeanette's wasabi peas (my apologies)

Tyler's Odwalla bar

lychee ice cream

Ann's take on dieting:

"You just need to stop obsessing about it. Because then, you know, you'll stop obsessing about it."

Jeanette then proceeds to spit out her food.

Lesson from Chinese movies: Drinking water will make one bun feel like seven.
"Water doesn't taste like anything... does it? ... wait... right?"

"""

The way I see it #141:

I used to feel so alone int he city. All those gazilllions of people and then me, on the outside. Because how do you meet a new person? I was very stumped by this for many years. And then I realized, you just say,"Hi." They may ignore you. Or you may marry them. And that possibility is worth that one word.

-Augusten Burroughs

"""

Detoxing with cherry soy yogurt.

Pretty colors and need to try.

Maybe we should look below the surface. People can be ridiculous.

Maybe we can't read minds, so you should just say it or move on.
This supports that I am indeed average, if not below. Leaning more towards below. Is it just me or is average pretty... pretty?

I love clever people.

Truths.

Art class memories...

Oh my damn. This is cool.

Perspective.

Except people are still people in the end so... small it is.

Disney <3

but where was Pocahantus?

"Some of my best leading men have been dogs and horses."

-Elizabeth Taylor

"I could never learn to like her, except on a raft at sea with no other provisions in sight."
-Mark Twain

Because I don't have a creeper radar.

Happy :)

stumbling all day

2011-04-07T16:01:00.000-07:00

"I wanted so badly to lie down next to her on the couch, to wrap my arms around her and sleep. Not fuck, like in those movies. Not even have sex. Just sleep together, in the most innocent sense of the phrase. But I lacked the courage and she had a boyfriend and I was gawky and she was gorgeous and I was hopelessly boring and she was endlessly fascinating. So I walked back to my room and collapsed on the bottom bunk, thinking that if people were rain, I was drizzle and she was a hurricane."

-courtesy

After a Google search I discovered this quote was from Looking for Alaska.

Compelled to read now.

EDIT:
"She dies. Butt naked, in a hot tub."
"Nice!"

"I wouldn't think he'd be interested in something like that... why didn't he ask a real girl?"

The most beautiful sea:
                   hasn't been crossed yet.
The most beautiful child:
                   hasn't grown up yet.
Our most beautiful days:
                   we haven't seen yet.
And the most beautiful words I wanted to tell you
                   I haven't said yet...
-Nazim Hikmet Ran

self improvement

2011-04-07T08:37:00.000-07:00

Normally I would just spew all this out onto the word document I have reserved for my grumblings and thoughts and daily tidbits, information that no one would care about anyways.

But there's something about blogging to strangers that is significantly more releasing than talking to friends or introspective deliberation.

Because you don't know who you're writing to (except possibly to the few friends who bother with your life.)

Anyone in the world could be concerning themselves with someone they've never met and probably never will meet. Therefore, someone completely detached to you, who doesn't know your background or mental condition is aware of your resolutions.

And that is why I'm writing this here.

I've been awaiting refuge from myself.

These weeks have been hell for no particular reason.

Except that I'm probably a psychotic break just waiting to detonate.

I am fully aware that my mood, how I feel about myself, are completely transparent to the people I interact with whether they realize what is going on with me or not.

Thus， I am immediately rendered unapproachable and uninteresting to be around despite how hard I pretend to be "just tired" or carefree.

So I've made a resolution to better myself in the following ways:

1. body image

2. motivation

3.smiling

4. self control

5. optimism

It's not like this just dawned on my this morning. No, in fact, I have endless journal pages devoted to this very topic. But now that I've confided in... anyone who stumbles upon this post, I feel I have an obligation to keep my promise to myself, one that I've broken countless times already.

Maybe this time will change.

Starting this weekend.

After I get super super high.

friends are interesting things

2011-04-06T16:29:00.000-07:00

Problem #53

At dinner, Jeanette and I discussed our high school friends. I sort of feel like this is going to be a bare all post...

Let's be honest. No one is always happy-go-lucky-my-life-is-awesome-and-you-are-too with their friends. In fact, I would readily admit that we were a somewhat dysfunctional group. Often times, the drama ripped me apart. To the point where I didn't even want to be a part of a group of friends because it made life that much more ridiculous, but in the end, I guess we were something special in the sense that our dysfunctionality was never superficial cat fights or gossip rounds that resulted in school wide blow outs. (At least just within ourselves.)

There were all the usual typical teenage girl paranoia drama, involved in the breaking apart and building up of relationships. Always the he said she said, truths contorted to lies and blown well out of proportion. Trust issues flowing through the veins and innocent intentions at the heart.

Jealousy. Competition. Insecurity. Manipulation. Frustration. Misunderstanding.

All there.

Add into the factor that we all ended up dating each other... and life just had us set up for failure.

Sometimes I would look on in regret at my other group of friends. How it seemed like they never had any problems, and how it seemed like they functioned like protagonists in a typical teenage movie. But that's not possible is it? Everyone has their issues right?

I think about our beginnings. How likely it is that such unlikely people would end up together.

How outsiders-looking-in would describe us as exclusive.

How we slowly grew.

I remember clearly the landmarks of our relations. The big dramatic events that separate time and space for us.

When she was closer with her. When she was mad at her.

When she felt neglected or when she sensed loss.

Each conflict changing shifting the dynamics between us like tectonic plates to land masses.

It was interesting learning about each other in this way, like ferreting out old documents stored away in the attic, each piece of information more intriguing, more shocking, more sensitive than the previous.

The passive aggressive way we dealt with our problems and each other because each one was too afraid to ruin something with the other.

But between the major divides there were long nights sitting in someone's living room. Movies. Video games. Cooking. Eating. Studying. Shopping. Lounging around the pool. More eating. Wandering about town. All the things you'd expect we do.

Unsuccessful plans. Numerous unsuccessful plans.

I don't think that we were any more or less close than other groups, but I think that we could sit around with absolutely nothing to do but still enjoy eachother's company and that was probably enough.

do we feel so small

2011-04-06T08:27:00.000-07:00

A is for ambitious - the way you make me strive.

B is for blunt - the way you bring me back down.

C is for compassionate - the way you take care of me.

D is for dependable - the way you are one call away.

E is for easygoing - the way you shrug it off.

F is for fearless - the way you carry me forward.

G is for grateful - the way you appreciate.

H is for humorous - the way you make me laugh shamelessly.

I is for innocent - the way you can't be corrupted.

J is for jovial - the way you spring down the street.

K is for keen - the way you sense everything hidden.

L is for lonely - the way I never feel with you.

M is for mature - the way you deal with me.

N is for natural - the way I can present myself with you.

O is for observant - the way you pick me apart so delicately.

P is for peaceful - the way you quell the storm inside me.

Q is for quick - the way I never have to wait on you.

R is for respectful - the way you treat me as your other half.

S is for secure - the way you shelter me.

T is for talented - the way you make me proud to be with you.

U is for unselfish - the way you put me before you.

V is for valiant - the way you stand up for me.

W is for wise - the way you teach me everything I would never learn.

X is for extraordinary - the way I'm so happy I found you.

Y is for youthful - the way we discover something new.

and

Z is for zealous - the way you never cease.

why can't my life be like this?

get out of my dreams please

2011-04-05T13:43:00.000-07:00

I fell for it. Hard.

She was never as ignorant as I, to believe he wasn't going to strip me bare before leaving me to bleed out, which is exactly what he did.

Before I gathered my scattered bills and multiple forms of identification, she tiptoed into my room, locking the door behind her. She grasped my shoulders firmly, catching my gaze and holding it there, and for a moment, my mind cleared of its pink fog, and I remember thinking maybe I was being ridiculous.

But by some delusion, I saw a spark in her eye, and her face flinched as she seemed to realize she had me under her control. She was going to take him. The sense so strong, I pushed her away, watching her stumble back a few steps.

My heart sunk when I realized what I had done. What he had done, rather.

The pink fog faded to a dull gray, and I vaguely recall the way his hands felt running up and down the length of my far-from-perfect body

Shame tinted my cheeks red as I remembered coming to from the five or six shots of tequila I quickly downed hours before, and I only saw the outline of his head, felt the weight of his body on mine. Took in the stale air, icy in my lungs, contrasting the heat of his touch searing my skin.

I wanted to crawl into bed and curl up in my comforter, pretend like this was all a terrible nightmare.

I whimpered once or twice before dropping back into unconsciousness.

I woke up on the edge of an unfamiliar bed. His arm draped over my stomach.

Shifting ever so slightly as not to wake him, I waited for the foreign landscape to come into focus. The room felt smaller, like if I stepped off the bed, I would be pressed against the door. I wanted to
somehow close my eyes and open them again to find myself back three days. I could just imagine what she would be think if she were watching this play out like a movie. Her judgment burning through my transparent skin. Am I really that easy to read?

But she will never know.

He brought me back down, literally and figuratively. I hadn't realized I was drifting, nodding my head around in search of something that wasn't there until he wrapped his one arm around my neck and rested the other on the small of my back.

We kissed, the first sober interaction I could store away for that night.

A memory I am still unwilling to let go.

attractive... Asian?

2011-04-01T21:24:00.000-07:00

I don't think you understand

how beautiful you are,

how absolutely ridiculous you are.

How frustrating you've become,

how down you make me feel.

How little you know

how great you have it,

how it seems you are only affected

by your own self.

How I dream of struggles,
how it tortures my thoughts.
How absolutely little you know.

[same inspiration]

silly little thing

2011-03-31T09:42:00.000-07:00

"I never felt comfortable with the phrase, had a deep trouble with it, all the ways it was said. You could say it in a celebratory sense. For corroboration. In gratitude. To get a point across, to instill guilt in your lover, to defend yourself. You said it after great deliberation, or when you felt reckless. You said it when you meant it and sometimes when you didn't.

You somehow always said it when you had to."

-Native Speaker

"Can't you hear it? ... When you love someone, you say their name different. Like it's safe inside your mouth."

-Handle With Care

"A baby is born with a need to be loved - and never outgrows it."

-Frank A. Clark

"You make me think that maybe I won't die alone. Maybe I won't die alone."

-"Die Alone" Ingrid Michaelson

"I don't wish to be everything to everyone, but I would like to be something to someone."

-Steven Javan Jones

inspiration from:

bus systems

2011-03-31T07:42:00.000-07:00

Have you ever stood in the cold bitching about how the bus won't come?

You may or may not also be late for something important.

Yes, I know.

Now have you ever waited in the cold for a bus to come... while staring at 5 other buses just sitting there?

Literally.

2 were to our right.

2 to the left.

and 1 right across from us.

0 at the bus stop.

And do you know which bus finally picked us up?

The two that drove up from around the corner.

I've never seen 7 buses congregated at one bus stop before.

Hooray for public transportation.

Wish I took a picture.

freaky

2011-03-25T10:22:00.000-07:00

Fun fact from my Snapple bottle (Noni berry flavored. What the fuck is a noni berry?):

You transfer more germs shaking hands than kissing.

How many hands did I shake within my time at college?

New way of introducing ourselves?

Just kidding.

Last night:

Happened to be watching the CSI episode "Stalker". And it was creeps.

Basically about a man who sets up a spy hole in people's attics after installing their cable. He videos tapes them and calls them and freaks them out in order to maintain a sense of power and control.

In the opening scene, the victim is huddled by the phone, starts biting her nails.

Stalker: "I thought I told you to stop biting your nails."

This right after a conversation about how Jeanette bites her nails.

*shudders*

As the night progressed, Duke lost, dorm mates went ape shit, a fuck load of commotion coming from the hallway. Despite that, I was settled, near sleep (so was Jeanette) until thumping and banging came from a very unlikely place. And I couldn't figure out what the fuck was going on...

and then Kyle stuck his head in our window like a creeper.

Yeah people were on the roof.

Oh... kay...

Their shadows moved along our walls. It was frightening (especially given the fact that the stalker moves above everyone else by way of attics and roofs...).

No surprise that I overslept, frantically missed breakfast and forgot my calculator, failing my 18 question biology test.

let's inspire

2011-03-22T21:00:00.000-07:00

Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.

-Albert Einstein

Study nature, love nature, stay close to nature. It will never fail you.

-Frank Lloyd Wright

In order to be irreplaceable one must always be different.

-Coco Chanel

When you're curious, you find lots of interesting things to do.

-Walt Disney

I can accept anything

except what seems to be the easiest for most people:
the half-way,
the almost,
the just-about,
the in-between.

-Ayn Rand

A dead fish can float downstream, it takes a live one to swim upstream.

-W. C. Fields

I believe in everything until it's disproved. So I believe in fairies, the myths, dragons. It all exists, even if it's in your mind. Who's to say that dreams and nightmares aren't as real as the here and now?

-John Lennon

You and I, We'd lose whole days- but make nights shine like the sun.

-Megan Brescini

Solitude is the profoundest fact of the human condition. Man is the only being who knows he is alone.

-Octovio Paz

Better than a thousand hollow words, is one word that brings peace.

-Buddha

new facts every day

2011-03-16T14:58:00.000-07:00

HAM.

"i thought ham meant hard as a motherfucker. awkward..."

-Nancy

so.. haam?

descend

2011-03-15T22:20:00.000-07:00

We don't stop driving at the first sight of the wave, surreal and almost like an oil painting rising above the buildings, pulling boats and houses and trees with it. It moved slowly, so fluid it was beautiful. I took my eyes off the road, lifted my foot from the gas pedal ever so slightly to keep in time with the vehicles around me, and gazed helplessly at the watery wall to my right. I could see the mirage of destruction on the other side as if peering through a foreboding mirror, and I could feel my heart lurch into my throat. My husband should just be leaving work, and the children are supposed to be safe at home. I became blissfully unaware of my surroundings until the jolly tune of my cell phone brought me back to the halted traffic. It's my baby girl. Except she's not my baby anymore. But how pitiful she sounded at that moment, pleading with me to come home and quick, asking me where I was and what I saw and whether the water had reached me yet. Though my eyes were itchingly dry, I could feel the tears like a waterfall in hers.

I couldn't respond. I couldn't reassure her, to listen to the quivering in her voice melt away for some comfort I provided. I couldn't help her because the water descended upon me at that moment. I felt pressure and a sudden jerk. I heard myself yelp in pain, but the muffled silence came too soon thereafter. Red ribbons wove a dress around my body. They danced in front of my eyes, which were wide open as if someone had peeled them back and stapled them in place. I knew lungs would fill with water like a kitchen sponge, and panic would settle into violent thrashing. I didn't know tranquility could relax my entire body, and I would bob there, suspended in nothingness, just simply waiting for the darkness to unfold. I heard her calling out for me, the sounds reaching me like far away echoes now. How I longed to tell her that everything was absolutely all right.

30 - one last moment

2011-03-15T11:07:00.000-07:00

[if there's one thing we never have enough of, it's time]

This morning:
towel still wrapped around my wet hair
CSI on my computer
bandeau and top on (luckily jacket was lying on my bed)
while applying finishing touches of mascara

what the fuck is that?

is that?

fucker.

fire alarm buzzing in the hallway
fuck, I'm not wearing pants.

scrambling to throw on clothing
luckily I had a late class today
ran outside right as firemen come knocking on our doors

but I was farther along than some others,
who had just woken up, standing in the brisk morning in nothing-pjs

29 - your aspirations

2011-03-14T21:42:00.000-07:00

[win win win]

I'm not going to stand here and tell you I want to be happy.
I'm already happy.

I just want to make sure my parents never regret having me, pay them back for all they've done for me.
(That means making about 8 million dollars.)
I just want to have endless time, time to spend hours in the kitchen every day, time to go on long sunny walks with my three puppies, time to wander in the maze that will be my Californian garden.
I just want my job to take me all over the world, leaving no ground untouched, to see and experience freedom in its most modern form.
I just want restaurants littered around the world like coffee cups after a parade.
I just want to walk alongside tigers and pandas and dolphins and elephants, see what they see, understand what they understand, and completely submerge myself in their language.
I just want to publish books, filled with angsty stories and fantastical dreams.

I just want to love you, and I want you to love me too.
I want us to live in a cozy Californian apartment right in the city where we are never bored.
Let's go swimming every morning, floating atop the empty water, holding our breaths to listen to bubbles, filled with our past tragedies, burst around us.

28 - something(s) that you miss

2011-03-13T19:24:00.000-07:00

[candy love]

I miss my lost childhood.
I miss my way-back-when best friends.
I miss our fruit trees and grape vines.
I miss my innocence.
I miss spending entire days doing nothing with you.
I miss family dinners out, just the 3 of us.
I miss having no responsibilities.
I miss 90's TV shows.
I miss running in the sprinklers on a hot summer day.
I miss riding my bike down my street.
I miss recess and lunch time.
I miss signing yearbooks.
I miss summer before college, mostly.
I miss butterflies from crushes.
I miss first time thrills.
I miss the early stages of our friendship.
I miss my flexibility.
I miss doing cartwheels in the soccer field.
I miss volleyball.
I miss playing dress up in my mother's closet.
I miss coloring outside the lines.
I miss birthday parties.
I miss getting by on slack work in high school.
I miss feeling non dysfunctional.
I miss being a big fish in a small pond.

27 - your favorite place

2011-03-13T14:37:00.000-07:00

[yellow brick road to wonderland]

icy clear and turquoise
lulling softly around my limbs, tugging gently on my hair
the muffled sounds above my temporary watery grave

a light breeze that brushes against bronzed skin
the sun hanging low over the horizon, streaking the sky red
green grass tickles between my toes

thunderstorm clouds blanketing the sky overhead
the sound of rain drops tapping on umbrella-like tree leaves
I sit beneath, perched upon a water-carved boulder

spring meadow scented sheets encompass my senses
a fluffy goose-feather pillow formed to the shape of my head
your body heat keeping me warm in the middle of winter

endless round racks of textured rainbows
surrounded in the seasonal shifting
I am collecting creativity on struggling legs

26 - your fears

2011-03-13T11:20:00.000-07:00

[still life]

the dark
eerie silence
growing up
clowns and dolls
getting pregnant
mathematics
awkwardness
losing people
loneliness
obesity
creepy crawlies
rejection
masked figures
bankruptcy
the "real" world
a painful death
heights
gas stations at night
judging eyes
memory loss
failure

25 - a first

2011-03-10T19:45:00.000-08:00

[naturally]

The first time I actually went down a ski hill.
After previously going to "ski" about 5 times.
I'm pretty sure I have never feared for my life more.

Fell halfway down and just lie there in the snow, staring up at the people on ski lifts.
One guy yelled something at me, whether it was encouragement or harassment, I don't know.
Looked up at the sun for a long time wishing I could just make snow balls and be done with it.
Stopped the ski lift failing to jump on, thus becoming that person.
Zigzagged down the hill.
Success..

24 - something that makes you cry

2011-03-10T17:28:00.000-08:00

[dust to dust]

What didn't make me cry?

Not as much makes me cry now.

Besides the typical things, I realized that I cried my tear ducts dry while watching many of Criminal Minds's Season 5 episodes. There was just a disproportionate amount of story lines that involved parent-child relationships. Especially Haley dying. And Jack. Omg Jack.

"I hafta help daddy work the case now."

Oh, die. He's adorable.

23 - something that makes you feel better

2011-03-10T17:11:00.000-08:00

[rawr]

I've tried a variety of things to quell the anger or calm the tears.
There's...
screaming into my pillow
pounding suicidal music
throwing things across the room
journal-ing once I've taken it down a notch
writing angry letters to people... and only sometimes delivering them.
Yeah... I know I sound like a time bomb, I guess.

In high school, I really fell off the wagon because none of the above did it for me anymore.
A couple of incidents forced me to go out and run until the adrenaline and endorphins masked any infliction of pain. When I couldn't run, I would take a couple shots, stolen from my dad's liquor cabinet; it used to throw me off balance, and I felt numb.
That allowed me to do what I never thought I'd do,
but it felt so good,
so relieving.
It's true what they say about having pain you can physically control for once.

Nowadays I just sleep. Or bitch to Andrew.
Trying very hard to transfer my angry energy to work. Imagine how productive I would be.

22 - something that upsets you

2011-03-10T16:52:00.000-08:00

[the calm before the storm]

Something, as in just one thing?
Okay.

When I fuck up.

That upsets me, yeah.

21- another moment

2011-03-06T06:42:00.000-08:00

[it's self-healing]

Myrtle Beach.
In the early morning.
With the sun hanging just above the horizon.
No sound but the few seagulls squawking in the distance.
Digging my feet into the blindingly white sand.
Watching the waves creep up the shore.
Losing my center of balance as they wash over my feet.
Eroding away my solid ground.

There's nothing like having this all to yourself if only for a couple moments.
I love the water.

20 - this month

2011-03-05T20:42:00.000-08:00

[her birthday is in March]

This month has barely kicked its feet off the ground, and I'm already feeling it. That slump. It was really my fault, but I can't help but feel so taken advantage of.

Struggling
with self hate and the disgusting amorphous creature I must look at every day.
with the exponentially growing numbers on the scale.
with the lack of motivation to get out of bed.
with the excessive amount of sleep I want and need when I don't even do anything.
with feelings of inadequacy whilst job searching, knowing I'll ultimately amount to nothing.
with my diminishing bank account.
with my plans to be a hermit because people will forever slowly suffocate me to death.
with this new sensation of homesickness.
with my clingy dependency on someone who will never be physically there for me.
with my gravitation towards illegality, something life-threatening dangerous.
with the rush I'm somehow missing.

"You know that I could use somebody,
someone like you..."

But I'm not worried.
This is just a phase.
Right?

19 - something you regret

2011-03-05T20:32:00.000-08:00

[have no regrets]

Once upon a time, I was naive. I thought I could convince myself that everything that happens in life is a lesson, to grow and learn and become a better person and all that bullshit. But that's exactly what it is... bullshit.
I really wish I could live with no regrets
and just fully enjoy my life the way it is.

But then I remember what kind of shit person I truly am.
I think someone like me living without regrets is basically self destructive,
so I deserve this heavy guilt that pushes me to sleep every night.
How many things I've done or not done I whole-heartedly wish I could take back.
How many times I relive moments in different ways, playing around with different scenarios, different outcomes.
Endlessly toying around with "What if..."

Apologies don't compensate for my pathetic life thus far.
The innocence that can never be regained.
The missed opportunities.
The broken-beyond-repair relationships.
And now the answer to everything is plain and simple "it's too late."

18 - your favorite birthday

2011-03-05T20:26:00.000-08:00

[getting dressed up for nothing]

I'm not big on birthdays.
Maybe because they've never been a big deal
as a result of the fact that it's always during winter break
I think
and the fact that it's right after New Year's.
Just like the people who were born too close to Christmas.
and maybe the fact that I don't go above and beyond for anyone anymore.
Not after middle school anyways.
I don't remember many birthdays before middle school,
and all the following ones were pretty blase.
Nothing big.
Nothing totally stand-out-ish.
It's okay though.
I don't want to age anymore.
I promised myself I would never hit 40.

17 - your favorite memory

2011-03-01T20:30:00.000-08:00

[in the aftermath]

I just sat here sifting through artsy pictures in search for one that would inspire me. This one did. San Francisco consisted some of the brighter days of my life because in all honesty, I expected some dramatic shit to go down. Put 4 girls, any 4 girls you want, any 4 girls in the world, in one bedroom-sized hotel room and I doubt you would envision something remotely pleasant. Girls, I have, do, and will always, believe girls are inherently bitchy. But we survived.

It's always the aftermath. That's what blows up in your face.

So I came to the conclusion that my favorite memories are the ones that come right before the worst memories. It makes sense, no?

"Yeah. That week. What a shithole. What an utterly, terribly, horrific, stupendously fucked up week...

... oh but the week before. That was fun. Why can't we just go back to those days?"

My life often follows the above schematic. The worst part is that you don't appreciate those before moments until you are here, thinking of them as memories. But really, how is one supposed to foresee the shit that is to come? How does one sense the turmoil that boils in each of us until it bubbles over? One doesn't. One is oblivious until one is faced with many other ones raining shit and fuck and all other obscenities all over one's head.

So my favorite moments are those that consist of sitting in a circle and talking like friends because at that exact moment, we [are all so committed to pretending like we?] really, truly do actually enjoy each other's company.
Because in some time period that could range from 10 seconds to 10 weeks, someone is going to explode. Some exciting shit is waiting to go down because we all need a little pointless drama in our lives, right? Someone's going to backstab. Someone's going to feel backstabbed. Someone becomes everyone.

And that moment becomes an undeniably missed memory.

And my childhood. Whether it's a good memory because I've fabricated it into a what-I-wish-happened-story, I'll never know, but I miss it.

16 - your first kiss

2011-03-01T16:24:00.001-08:00

[bend and snap]

The idea of writing about this topic makes me laugh especially since like only Lydia reads these.

What? Never happened.

15 - your dreams

2011-02-28T07:29:00.000-08:00

[of falling]

Of faces I hardly know
and places I often go
to the rainbow-painted tunnels
I never find the end

Of gifts I didn't receive
and messages I never read
I wake with sweaty palms
and nightmares lingering ahead

Of desires I will never meet
fantasy figures with black hearts
whose smiles beam through the fog
who defy any logical laws we follow

Of soaring above the mountains
no blade left untouched
to curl up in the highest crevice
and sleep eternal sleep.

pushover

2011-02-26T21:53:00.000-08:00

Today, I ate my feelings.

So many feelings.

So many regrets.

No.

nonono

NO.

Do you ever feel like the world preys on you?

But I'm going to be positive. I'm going to be happy. I'm going to smile. A lot.

I miss you so much. You're the only one who cares.

14 - what you wore today

2011-02-26T20:41:00.000-08:00

[Sunday brunch]

Sweats and a cami.

It's Sunday.

13 - this week

2011-02-26T11:21:00.000-08:00

[exhaustion]

I'm just glad this week is over.
Now I can proceed to do all the homework I neglected to do earlier.
I'm not even sure I was consciously aware of myself this week. Spent my days in bed, wasting time, excessive amounts of sleeping (and yet I still can't stay awake in class), excessive amounts of eating...

Speaking of,
dieting rules:
1. no eating after 7:00 (I'll allow some snackage when late-night-cooking)
2. no MP bread items (that means no muffins, no bagels, no biscuits)
3. no potatoes with breakfast
4. no ramen starting now
5. pace self (proving to be the most difficult task to accomplish in my life)

Excessive confusion. I am going to fail this semester.
Excessive mistakes. I am mentally physically beating myself up.
Excessive boredom.

12 - what's in your wallet

2011-02-24T21:37:00.000-08:00

[you can tell a lot. can you?]

Okay. Get ready for some seriously unnecessary detail.

Borders AND B&N member cards
debit
license
receipts from various places
1 dollar
some coins
parking ticket from Franklin Street
movie tickets
prescription
health insurance cards
membership card to consignment store
iTunes gift cards
no bake pumpkin cheesecake recipe
expired Target coupons
R&R grill coupon
stamps
Borders gift card
Orange Leaf gift card
punch cards for Lime and Basil, Chill, Delias, Quiznos, Robeks, Cafe Carolina, and the UNC book store
Sephora card
a dinosaur tattoo
4 Disney princess tattoos

11 - your siblings

2011-02-23T17:11:00.000-08:00

[wish I had a twin sister]

My baby brother is 10, basically nine years younger than me. Needless to say, we are not that close.
I played caretaker for him often enough to justify not needing my own children, often enough to be mistaken for his mother (how embarrassing...).
Our relationship deteriorated into bully and victim when he was old enough to fuck around with my stuff whilst also knowing freedom of punishment because he was always the favorite amongst my family members.
Now I'd like to think I'm civil. I force feed him my cooking; he's my primary taste tester because he's the pickiest brat I know. I watch TV shows with him when I have homework, and I play video games when I have no other priorities. That's only when we are both not locked in our respective rooms.
He has a facebook and phone now (thanks to my dad's dedication to Sprint), trying to get into that social networking scene, so he doesn't need me or my guidance (as if I have anything to offer anyways).
I love my brother much like I love my parents, but maybe a little bit more so because he was saved.
At home, I usually treat him like a perpetual roommate or unyielding pest, whichever my mood permits.
I see him going one of two ways: 1) success, far more successful than me because he's the pride of our family or 2) failure, assuming my parents raise him like they did me.

It's funny because when I was 9, I wanted either a dog or a sibling, and my parents opted for the latter.

10 - what you wore today

2011-02-23T08:57:00.000-08:00

[style]

from head to toe, in to out:
neon pink bra from aerie
white halter with back ruffle detail from UO
pearl webbed necklace from f21
plaid cocoon coat from UO
ohm ring from light year's
sea foam denim shorts from rugged warehouse
vertical striped tights from UO
boyfriend boots from bakers

9 - your beliefs

2011-02-22T22:47:00.000-08:00

[I believe in fairy tales]

I don't believe in much but...

I believe in fate.
I believe in second chances.
I believe in the ability to change.
I believe in karma.
I believe in right-time-right-place situations.
I believe in luck.

I believe puppies are loyal.
I believe the perfect meal is out there somewhere.
I believe rain puddles are meant for splashing.
I believe art is the universal language.
I believe innocence can never be regained.
I believe my stomach is bottomless.
I believe the laws of physics.

8 - a moment

2011-02-21T15:58:00.000-08:00

[save me please]

The first thing I felt was curiosity melting away. The second was the cold wall hard against my back. I suppose on some level, I knew this moment would happen.
It was a mix between exhilaration and uncertainty.
And I was fully aware that nothing, inside or outside, was stopping me.
In hindsight, I don't think I was mentally processing anything, and my memory is spacey, biased towards the moments I never want to forget.
Out of my five senses, smell sticks with me the most. Literally.
I remember inhaling deeply as I lay wondering what would come next, ignorant to the black hole of vulnerability that was consuming me.
I'm filled with regret.
And the only way I can think to deal with it is to lie about the power I hold.

7 - your best friend

2011-02-21T14:00:00.000-08:00

[other half]

I have my ideals about what a best friend should be, but those really exist more in movies (just like romance is reserved for romcoms).

So I don't really believe in best friends.

To me, there only exists close friends you lay expectations on and come through for you. close friends you lay expectations on and let you down. friends you enjoy being around and sharing stories with. friendly acquaintances you chit chat with in passing. people I will meet one day who may or may not impact my life. and strangers I'll never know.

[I'm cheating. Decided I can't post day by day.]

6 - your day

2011-02-21T11:07:00.000-08:00

[Today I don't feel like doing anything.]

If we're starting a day at 12:00 am.

I fell asleep to a light viewing of Criminal Minds. Yes, nothing like filling the mind with images of blood and fire arms before bed.
Devoured an omelet (and got a mutant apple) for breakfast over ambiguous conversation about rooming situations.
Hello, perpetual plan B... Sometimes I wonder what it's like to be amongst people who actually want to be around you.
Class. Need coffee. Desperately.
I waste time like nobody's business. Considering the concept of swinging as I watch more Criminal Minds, and I still don't really understand it.
Class. Need more coffee. Very desperately.
I'm pretty sure I should stay out of swivel chairs in public. Basically, I look like a 2-year old.
Eggplant and shrimp and hot and sour soup. My stomach feels warm and I could go to sleep now.
I forgot to obtain a cup of coffee in preparation for this lecture. Today, I heard they sell lower dose caffeine pills. Yes, please.

After this, I really plan on going back to my dorm and climbing into bed and watching more TV shows and drifting off to sleep. No one has a more exciting life than mine.

what do you say when

2011-02-20T11:11:00.000-08:00

What do you say when you pass him by?

And although neither of you care to acknowledge it, there's thick understanding hanging in the air.

purity stands before me

offering herself on a platter

unawares to what will be

the small things that do not matter

a simple task lays ahead

in meeting her timid eyes

to each her virginal bed
she collects dandelions and butterflies
transparent stained glass chiffon
no longer flowing freely in the wind
she dances on the wings of a black swan
from my hand i feel her rescind.

5-your definition of love

2011-02-20T09:20:00.000-08:00

[love is...]

it is...

love... is...

love is forgiveness despite heartbreak
love is calling when I know you won't pick up just to listen to your voicemail
love is life stories spoken without a word
love is rainbow helium balloons on a clear day
love is lying in bed without a worry
love is falling asleep with his hand on your stomach
love is hanging onto a beaten up teddy bear because it still has his scent
love is vulnerability
love is not backing away from spilled tears
love is flowers blooming and flowing dresses on a spring day
love is watching a child run into her parents' open arms
love is unconditionally conditional
love is floating together on calm ocean waters
love is listening and responding
love is grabbing her roughly and kissing her passionately
love is together at the top of a ferris wheel ride overlooking a brightly lit carnival
love is seeing your reflection and feeling a glimmer of confidence
love is steaming chocolate chip muffins with a cold glass of vanilla soy
love is chills when he smiles at you
love is interlocking fingers to run into the sunset
love is enjoying the little things
love is never letting him get away

love is...

love is knowing when to say "I'm sorry"

[♫]

4- what i ate today

2011-02-19T10:10:00.000-08:00

[because I can't pick just one]

I think a more appropriate topic that would take considerably less time to detail is "what i didn't eat today."

luckily it is only 1:11 and I didn't leave my dorm until 12:00, so this topic should not take as long as it otherwise would [but I'll have to add more later].

Brunch:
They had a pita bread bar <33333333333333. It was rather fancy for MP standards. Pita bread complete with hummus, tapenade, green bean slaw type thing... , walnut and avocado oil, red pepper flakes, and oregano. Yum.
Egg and vegan sausage as always.
Eggplant saute (unextraordinary).
Scallion pearl couscous (best).
Basmati rice with spinach (grainy texture).
Cheesy tortellini (too rich and fatty).
Chocolate-vanilla soy milk (with no cereal, be proud).

Lunch:
A wax-like apple.
2 spring rolls made from leftover salad (with Sweet Thai Chili sauce mmm).
Pomegranate green tea.

Dinner:
Jeanette's rice.
Leftover salad.
New York cheesecake with strawberries.
Chips and spinach-artichoke dip.
Various snacks.

3- your parents

2011-02-18T08:39:00.000-08:00

[I miss you]

Mother:
Basic memories involve discipline.
Crying on the piano bench, under the dimly lit desk lamp when she wouldn't let me go to sleep until I mastered Fur Elise. Crying and feeling like shit at the kitchen table when she berated me for being unable to complete my advanced math homework. Crying and feeling like shit and cursing under my breath when she wouldn't let me leave the house to play after dinner. Crying and feeling like shit and cursing under my breath and punching my pillow when I locked myself in my room... for a reason I can't even remember.
Crying and feeling like shit and cursing under my breath and punching my pillow and thinking of efficient ways to commit suicide when I lost everything without even stopping to tell her I loved her, filled with blame and spouting useless apologies because I should have been in her place.

But then there were the times when I curled up beside in bed because I was afraid dinosaurs still existed. She told me they couldn't hurt me because they were trapped up in the mountains, and she would always protect me. There were the times we spent Saturday afternoons outside gardening. Our front yard belonged on the cover a magazine. Colorful flowers flourished, fruit trees lined the side walls, and we had enough peaches to last a year every year. There were the times I watched her cry in front of the TV (Asian dramas... rolls eyes), and I thought this was the most vulnerable she would ever be to me. There were the times we went on long strolls or long shopping sprees or long aimless wandering. We would return by nightfall and sink silently to bed.

Father:
His face wasn't a prominent one in my childhood. I knew him only as the parent who would kick around a soccer ball outside or come home after a weeks-long business trip bearing souvenirs and gifts. He was the parent who sat on the couch, watching TV after returning home from work. And he was the parent who took no part in parent-teacher conferences or ballet recitals or punishment measures.

But he was also the parent who came home late after another one of his many business trips to find an empty house, ignorant to the police sirens right around the bend.

We've never had a close relationship, and now we have a neutral/civil one because 1) I'm out of the house and 2) we had a dramatic fight one summer. Despite that though, I still respect his accomplishments, especially knowing I will probably never achieve what he did. My resentment towards him for his regular absence has faded into the understanding that he was a single parent, working one income to support two spoiled kids.
He doesn't know me, really, and I don't really know him. And there will always be an irreparable gap. But I guess I'm okay with that.

Parents:
I'm generally not a very family-oriented person.
We love each other... almost because we have to. In a way, we're forced to deal with these people we call our family (and some are better at adjusting to this fact than others).
Therefore, my first emotional response towards my family is "grateful".
Grateful that my shortcomings have not disappointed them to the extent of throwing me out.
Grateful that they put up with me at all.

2-first love

2011-02-16T22:21:00.000-08:00

[lust]

Love has no bounds.
No definitions.
Just feelings.
People say you can't really know what love is before adulthood,
but I think love is mostly about comparison.
Maybe you've never felt as intense as you did those many years ago, or maybe you haven't even experienced such intensity. Either way, it's like an orgasm... you'll know... and it can happen multiple times.

Mine (love, to clarify) was when I was the near-ripe age of 17.
There's a clear difference between this and my few crushes.

I think it's going to last forever,
overlapping others
if any.

After all,
"You never forget your first love."

1-introduce yourself

2011-02-16T14:30:00.000-08:00

[small wonders]

Hey,
I'm just your basic average non-spectacular college girl.
Let's go around the room and say one fun fact about ourselves...
My favorite color is blue.

Oh yeah, and I'm Asian.
That is a major defining point in my life.
No, seriously.

[let's take a quick coffee break to see just how much race is a factor in my life]
1. Fuck Asian hair. It makes it incredibly difficult to look effortlessly messy.
2. Insecurity. Oh hey hotskinnyblonde, please disregard me.
3. Expectations. No I don't know how to solve that math/science problem; one of the hundreds of smarterthanmeasians is right over there. (3.1 GPA... failure)
4. Athleticism and world experience. "Study first, live later." or "No, you might die."

Moving on...
Born in sunny Florida, raised in the mountainous dessert of New Mexico. But hate hate hate heat + humidity.
Missed moving to both New York and California.
Stranded in Chapel Hill (the best place to live? False, Dad, false.)

I don't make eye contact because I'm shy.
I don't approach you first because I don't feel entitled to.
8/10 You probably intimidate me.
2/10 I probably don't think you like me.
But I remember your name and face because my memory doesn't often fail me there
(that's only in academia).
I don't adjust to change well, but I usually crave it like no other.
I spend half of my time aimlessly wishing. The other half is for sleeping and eating. Needless to say leaving my bed is the hardest part of every day.

I get loud when I'm excited.
I get random children's songs stuck in my head.
I cuss like a lady should.
I stopped being punctual after I felt like a loser one too many times.
I find the most ridiculous things funny, and I'll occasionally laugh at inappropriate things.

Interests:
"You have very womanly hobbies." -Craig
Yes, yes I do.
Cooking, shopping, raising children, and serving men.

I want to get this tattooed under my right boob:

And in that moment
I swear we were infinite.

passing time

2011-02-16T14:25:00.000-08:00

If you're an observant one, you might notice that this is a different account. Same person though. Anyways, stealing this from Lydia so I have something to do when I'm bored in my various lecture classes. (Who's a good student? I am.)

Day 01 – Introduce yourself.
Day 02 – Your first love.
Day 03 – Your parents.
Day 04 – What you ate today.
Day 05 – Your definition of love.
Day 06 – Your day.
Day 07 – Your best friend.
Day 08 – A moment.
Day 09 – Your beliefs.
Day 10 – What you wore today.
Day 11 – Your siblings.
Day 12 – What’s in your wallet.
Day 13 – This week.
Day 14 – What you wore today.
Day 15 – Your dreams.
Day 16 – Your first kiss.
Day 17 – Your favorite memory.
Day 18 – Your favorite birthday.
Day 19 – Something you regret.
Day 20 – This month.
Day 21 – Another moment.
Day 22 – Something that upsets you.
Day 23 – Something that makes you feel better.
Day 24 – Something that makes you cry.
Day 25 – A first.
Day 26 – Your fears.
Day 27 – Your favorite place.
Day 28 – Something that you miss.
Day 29 – Your aspirations.
Day 30 – One last moment.

frenzied. ambivalent. i want you.

2011-02-16T13:58:00.000-08:00

[and oxygen fills my lungs]

I want you to speak to me

in the absence of words.

I want you to dive into the great abyss

only before pulling me down with you.

I want you to wait at the waves

ready to break my fall.

I want you to paint the sky red

guiding my every step.

[maybe just lay there]

I want you to make me tropical smoothies

so we can sit under the sun.

I want you to build me an igloo

so we can hide away.

I want you to drink away my sorrows

let us run into the night.

I want you to stand ever so still

when I need somewhere to lean.

[wish I could be fucking beautiful]

I want you to brush aside my hair

and wipe away the mascara streaked down my cheek.

I want you to tell me you're happy

and that you'll wait forever for me to reach it.

"I don't mean this to be surprising,

but when you're next to me I'm dying."

-"I Lied" - Laurell

criminal minds

2011-02-13T09:34:00.000-08:00

"Life is one hell of a thing to happen to a person."

"The French philosopher Voltaire wrote: There are some that only employ words for the purpose of disguising their thoughts."

"No hell, no dignity."

I was never aware, the unhappiness that filled my being.
And through it all, nothing so damaging
as the day you wiped away my last drop
to set this memory in motion.

Knew no one would come searching,
leaving only mangled limbs and a tortured face
buried deep beneath the silenced earth.
She drank this life, nourishing shattered dreams, bright-eyed fear.

And I feel myself spreading beneath your grasp.
Is it wrong to still need you like I do,
that your graze lit my lonely stage?

Tread softly, please.

well isn't this quaint?

2011-01-17T12:45:00.000-08:00

Your eyes don't come often enough

to my mind but the smell of your aftershave still lingers

around my bedroom

when the delicate sounds resound in the hollows

of my head I know I'll never have that back

ordinary days elevated by the curvature

of your mouth a rarity for someone

as forgotten as me

put aside are the days of pursuit

the misleading exchanges and disheartening nights

filled with grief are my thrown away chances

for those mistaken decisions

how could I have been so naive

but every time we brush, it's like the first time.

Invading every foreign face

and the way he moves hardly compares

for your ever exaggerated presence

permeates my ever exaggerated imagination.

better off dead

2011-01-07T22:20:00.000-08:00

fake

rejection

inconsiderate

expectations

noxious

deception

secrets

growing up so fast

2010-12-30T01:56:00.000-08:00

It's natural to feel distances becoming larger as days slowly turn to months.

I'm probably the best image of fading.

When your eyes don't meet mine, I store your memories in a file cabinet at the very back of my mind.

merely waiting for you to forget me, and we will both move on with ease.

what i wish i could say (parte dos)
[I knew I did something like this before, and it took me forever to look for it (and sort of here too). Funny how I don't remember whom each part is addressed to. and here I was, thinking I knew me so well]

To the one I'll always love,
you're hurting me right now. bad.
sometimes I wish I lead things in a different direction, but then I remember the subtle tones of unhappiness that I refused to acknowledge, but becoming so clear now. it was for the better, I guess. sometimes I hope we'll find some other kind of perfect, but others I happily revisit my original plan.

To the one I don't even consider,
you're not even worth any afterthoughts of hatred. you've indirectly ruined so much for me. please leave me the hell alone.

To the one I messed up with,
I should have never. you are part of a terribly horrible mistake. it upsets me when I think about how things could have resulted differently, but I suppose there was some mutual agreement that this can be no more. and it's so upsetting thinking back to way-back-not-so-way-back-when: those were the days I still saw a glass half full. at least you weren't the only one who got what you wanted. I'd like to think I'm amazingly talented at pretending.

To the one I need as comfort,
please don't ever leave me. you don't even know what kind of role you play in my life. I wish I knew those buried thoughts, but for now, I'll just accept what tenuous relationship we have. when I'm around you, I'm suddenly at a loss for what it is I really want. perhaps you are sick of my antics, but I want us to spend more time together.

To the one I see blossoming,
thank you for everything. I really needed that. I just hope this friendship does not also burn to ashes.

To the one I used to depend on,
I feel like we are too different. maybe we are moving on. the dreadful reality feels painfully clear to me now. maybe you never actually liked me anyways. the dynamics were just too tense.

To the one I passed up,
how did I miss this? oh yeah, for him. how I regret losing you. how I envy your closeness and the cute things you do. still trying to patch up the holes, but there's only so much I can do.

To the one that looks so glamorous,
how I wish I could be like you. you're so effortless, so likable.

To the one got stuck here,
I'm surprised. the way we fit was not at all what I expected, but the world does deal its fortunate hands, I see. I miss having you around when I'm lethargic. I realize I should probably tone it down; it's probably getting annoying.

To the one that made the biggest mistake,
I'm sorry. I'll try to be better.
but it's so hard when I hate it here. so hard when everyone prefers him to me here.

To the one that doesn't even realize,
call me a whore. call me a bitch. I don't care. at least I'm willing to acknowledge it. why don't you give it a try? you are so oblivious to what everyone has done for you. passing up sleep for you. defending you. appreciating you when they didn't. and when the reality check sets in... nothing. thanks a lot. fuck you.

To the one that was always around,
you've been great, but I think we've just been ruined. I guess we'll see. if you hate me, I'd like to know.

To the one that tried a little too hard,
image isn't everything. it might fall into place if you didn't try so hard.

challenge me

2010-12-29T11:42:00.000-08:00

perfect little Melody doesn't know how to dance,

doesn't know when to speak

or when to hold her breath.

holds the railing all the way down,

lest she trip and break and drown

and lose her place in the delicate balance.

perfect little Melody needs my assistance,
needs her lines recited to her
until I seal her fluttering eyelashes.

permeates beautiful and expression,
hides hurt and betrayal beneath her wings
oblivious to her own destruction
and how she feeds on my tears.

perfect little Harmony is left in the frigid blizzard.
her icy lips sting my skin,
dragging across this silky terrain.

"That was me seducing you. It needs to be the other way around."

-black swan

blah blah blah

2010-12-20T07:58:00.000-08:00

Dear life,

Fuck you.

Sincerely, me.

P.S. Leave me alone.

so this is it

2010-09-30T21:55:00.000-07:00

I remember the beach. Standing right on the shore, waiting for a wave to crash and wash away the sand beneath my feet. It felt as if the entire world was eroding, and I anticipated falling into oblivion. The wind on my face was reminiscent of the numerous car rides to nowhere, and there I finally was. Nowhere.

We're standing on opposite sides of the chasm, somewhere I never imagined we'd be.

Surreal.

But adjusting well.

smoke bubbles

2010-09-09T09:36:00.000-07:00

Smile, I don't want to.
My scattered voice is growing louder, and his head falls into my lap.
Almost.
Ringing laughter is a cloud beneath my tangled legs,
our eyes weaving between now and one second ago.
Feels like a lifetime that will not pass.