There's saftey in being emotionally dettached. Trust me, I've been doing it for years and I learnt from the best. Dont play games with my head, you'll lose because I'll just simply learn not to care.
I will admit I do miss falling in love. How it used to catch me by suprise. Trip me over even when I thought I was well guarded. I seem to have a lot better control these days, or maybe I'm just not as sure this time. Have I given you the right sort of time to sweep me off my feet, or did we just start out this way? I think we may be starting to reach an agreement, though I feel like I've just been argueing with myself. I feel so ugly when I'm around you, as though I'm just not reaching what you're holding, despite me knowing how much better I am then you. So are we settled? Are we content? I'm not entirley sure what we're content with.
Oh to read minds! The logistics of it would make life almost pointless; because where would we be without the hours spent trying to decipher a word or a phrase, even just a look. What would we fill our minds with if we didnt have those hopeful thoughts, so strong they can almost delude us into thinking our fantasies really are coming true? Where would we be without the moments of clarity? Or the point where we realise all our efforts were in vain and there's nowhere left to go here? To read minds would make the game almost too easy and yet maybe even that little bit more painful because we cannot help where our hearts are drawn to. Unrequited love is not romantic, its a dilusion. To be too scared to enter into the dilusion is deprive yourself of an emotional beating, and where lies the courage in that?
So I feel like I know you asthetically and I love the touch of you're skin, but to know what really lies behind those eyes requires so much more doesn't it? I don't spend a single night lieing awake thinking about you, I dont hear a song and sing the words for you. It's been so long since I've done such a thing. Though sometimes you catch me on the way home, in a moment of mental abandonment, you creep inside and I make a concious decision to keep you there for a little while. When I compare how I feel around you to how I feel around the rest you reinforce my decision and I'm almost content with you there and only there. Sometimes I wish you'd just come kiss me on the shoulder like you do, but no feelings over power me I'd like to say I'll attach myself simply just to go along with the ride, just to see where this ends up but I won't. I can't shake how inferior I feel to every other girl around me when you're near.
Answer me one question please? When I know exactly what it is I want to ask you.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Friday, October 23, 2009
Control.
You have this profound way of making me feel strangely uneasy and amazingly happy within the exact same moment. Something about you makes me think you know what you're doing, like you've done it all before.
That song always reminds me of you, and cigarettes, as though the combination goes so well. I imagine us sitting through a storm together in the early hours of the morning. Rain pouring through the gutters.
You keep coming back and though you’re all wrong, I keep wanting you to come back. You constantly capture my attention and continue to hold it, whether I’m aware of it or not.
Aesthetics seem meaningless because its that certain something I still can't put my finger on, after all this time I’m still no closer to realising. Whether this be a thing of darkness, like the persona you so often carry or something more innocent I seldom gain any insight. It all seem's so worth the risk.
If it were anyone else... but to you I just can’t say no.
That song always reminds me of you, and cigarettes, as though the combination goes so well. I imagine us sitting through a storm together in the early hours of the morning. Rain pouring through the gutters.
You keep coming back and though you’re all wrong, I keep wanting you to come back. You constantly capture my attention and continue to hold it, whether I’m aware of it or not.
Aesthetics seem meaningless because its that certain something I still can't put my finger on, after all this time I’m still no closer to realising. Whether this be a thing of darkness, like the persona you so often carry or something more innocent I seldom gain any insight. It all seem's so worth the risk.
If it were anyone else... but to you I just can’t say no.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Good News.
Batton down the hatchs. I'm ready to jump off cliffs. I'm finally ready to take some risks, on all levels, on all plains. I have nothing to lose and everything to gain.
I'm going back into the real world, starting yet another new chapter of this story. As terrorfying as it might be, its time to lock horns with life and figure out what I really want to do and who I really want to be. Working my way into the history books. Pushing my way into sight.My favourite time of year is approaching. The time I get to look back and look forward at the same time. Make a promise and make a wish. Forgive and forget. Learn to live with regret.
Now that I know where my focus will be I feel as though I really can step forward, leave everything behind and take with me only the best of what I've gained. Every impossible lesson i've been taught, every repeated mistake, I no longer wish to be attached to.
'Nothing to lose', I'm diving head first into a completley new world and I'm taking this motto with me.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
boy.
"The only way to true happiness is to risk getting cut completley open."
- unknown
Does it still count if your already nurseing several serious wounds to the heart?
I can safely assume this is about 99% true if you're willing to take the risk, eventually you have to land on your feet. Or one can only hope. I myself am my own worst enemy. I can preach and see all the logic and sense within in this, but I cannot for the life of me practice it. I'm not even entirley sure why anymore, its been too long.
I'm doing everything in my power to not fall for you, because I know exactly how things will end.
Who's to say you'd be any different?
I'd like to think that you are, but I wont venture there.
I'm terrorfied you'll run away with a piece of me and never come back.
boy.
I could make you ridiculously happy.
For more then a night.
I honestly think you are such a special person, with the lovliest eyes.
I wish you nothing but clear blue skies and sunshine every day.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Truth #1
When was it that hypocrisy first decided to plague us? I imagine it has been with us since the dawn of time. It must be a tyrant, one who is so relentless that it haunts us silently now.
Once upon a time one of a woman's greatest qualities was her modesty, and she prided herself on this. The 60's donned an era where rebelion meant ceasing educating ones self, listening to music their parents did not understand, exploring the world through the use of mind expanding drugs; and physically allowing ones self to enjoy what pleasures we were designed to without restriction.
Ofcourse nowdays these things are frowned upon, as they were then but now in a new light. Youth today still indulge themselves in the same activities but it is now less of a subculture and more the norm. It is not unusual to have promiscuous sex with a partner you met days, even minutes ago. Infact for the male species the more the better. So how is it that girls are so aggressivley labelled as "sluts" and "filth" because they may have decided they dont care for any other reason but physical attraction as a motive for sex. At the time the boy doesnt mind in the slightest. Why? Because it's an easy root, another knotch on the belt and simply just another tale to tell the guys. To this day I have not met a boy who would easily decline the oppurtunity to satisfy their primary earges; and with no charges laid against them for doing so, who would?
The outcome for girls acting upon their desires is entirely different. So much as though we even turn on our kind at times, labelling them as inferior people.
What is it even still that gives the male species the right to degrade females, use them for sport, for status, for emotional manipulation? What is it psychologically that we just cannot shake that allows us to accept and submit immediate status to men. I am in no way a feminist, infact I can easily admit that males are the dominent species. I only find it a fascinating and at times frustrating truth. Fascinating as it is so easily accepted; frustrating as it is so obviously unjust.
Once upon a time one of a woman's greatest qualities was her modesty, and she prided herself on this. The 60's donned an era where rebelion meant ceasing educating ones self, listening to music their parents did not understand, exploring the world through the use of mind expanding drugs; and physically allowing ones self to enjoy what pleasures we were designed to without restriction.
Ofcourse nowdays these things are frowned upon, as they were then but now in a new light. Youth today still indulge themselves in the same activities but it is now less of a subculture and more the norm. It is not unusual to have promiscuous sex with a partner you met days, even minutes ago. Infact for the male species the more the better. So how is it that girls are so aggressivley labelled as "sluts" and "filth" because they may have decided they dont care for any other reason but physical attraction as a motive for sex. At the time the boy doesnt mind in the slightest. Why? Because it's an easy root, another knotch on the belt and simply just another tale to tell the guys. To this day I have not met a boy who would easily decline the oppurtunity to satisfy their primary earges; and with no charges laid against them for doing so, who would?
The outcome for girls acting upon their desires is entirely different. So much as though we even turn on our kind at times, labelling them as inferior people.
What is it even still that gives the male species the right to degrade females, use them for sport, for status, for emotional manipulation? What is it psychologically that we just cannot shake that allows us to accept and submit immediate status to men. I am in no way a feminist, infact I can easily admit that males are the dominent species. I only find it a fascinating and at times frustrating truth. Fascinating as it is so easily accepted; frustrating as it is so obviously unjust.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Oh to what the world has seen!
"Adieu to disappointment and spleen. What are men to rocks and mountains?"
Here is where we learn the meaning of our insignificance.
In the rocks and mountains.
In the grass and valleys.
If I was not so allured by the prospect of romance perhaps these magic shows would not be so common.
Were it the 1800's, I should be in my leisure.
Surrounded by all that tempts me in romance, in language and for some garmets, in fashion.
Is this why I am so seduced by the concept of living out my fairy tales and fantasies on stage and screen?
To have the oppurtunity perhaps, the honour infact to live as another.
In a completley different time.
A completley foreign world.
In one of my favourite imaginations of a by gone era.
Oh to what the world as seen!
Were it possible to capture all and learn from every fragment of time that has passed, I should feel my life almost fullfilled. I fear my pride would falter in the awe of what little value my life, and those whom I hold dearest lives do recieve.
So be it, modern day affairs are not held with such respect for rank and birth. Instead one decides upon their rank through choice from the moment of birth.
Society feigns what morals we once held, and through generations rebels against ones better judgement in the context of choice.
Until we find ourselves here, so intent on freedom and yet so dependent on a greater source to feed us lest we grow old.
Without a permenent label of wealth or poverty, opulence or simplicity one could entertain the idea of significance with extreme possibility.
Though here motivation and endureing passion should be used as constant solace to whatever obstacles may stand in the way betwixt the beginning and end of the journey.
So inspiration finds me with the intent to persuade me to do just that.
To make sure my name is known.
That perhaps somewhere in the particles of existance a person whos time is long after mine shall long to know more of my story.
- Jane Austen 'Pride and Prejudice'
Here is where we learn the meaning of our insignificance.
In the rocks and mountains.
In the grass and valleys.
If I was not so allured by the prospect of romance perhaps these magic shows would not be so common.
Were it the 1800's, I should be in my leisure.
Surrounded by all that tempts me in romance, in language and for some garmets, in fashion.
Is this why I am so seduced by the concept of living out my fairy tales and fantasies on stage and screen?
To have the oppurtunity perhaps, the honour infact to live as another.
In a completley different time.
A completley foreign world.
In one of my favourite imaginations of a by gone era.
Oh to what the world as seen!
Were it possible to capture all and learn from every fragment of time that has passed, I should feel my life almost fullfilled. I fear my pride would falter in the awe of what little value my life, and those whom I hold dearest lives do recieve.
So be it, modern day affairs are not held with such respect for rank and birth. Instead one decides upon their rank through choice from the moment of birth.
Society feigns what morals we once held, and through generations rebels against ones better judgement in the context of choice.
Until we find ourselves here, so intent on freedom and yet so dependent on a greater source to feed us lest we grow old.
Without a permenent label of wealth or poverty, opulence or simplicity one could entertain the idea of significance with extreme possibility.
Though here motivation and endureing passion should be used as constant solace to whatever obstacles may stand in the way betwixt the beginning and end of the journey.
So inspiration finds me with the intent to persuade me to do just that.
To make sure my name is known.
That perhaps somewhere in the particles of existance a person whos time is long after mine shall long to know more of my story.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
8th October
I had a dream about you last night.
You were cold, so I gave you a blanket & I was in bed with your two best friends;
you were asleep on my floor.
I stayed as close to you as possible, but I was happy because you were happy.
Something in your eyes kept me awake & we smiled weakly, no questioning as to why you were here.
I couldn't help but admit to myself how much I missed you, how much I might always miss you.
But I was happy because you were happy;
and in the latter thought, I wondered how long it would be until we met again.
This weeks lost and found.
Inspiration seem's to be of abundance.
When daylight holds out just an hour longer and I have time to appreciate what the day has been; I imagine myself being able to fill pages with words. Fill books. Fill hours with scribbling to myself;but I reach for that book with the pages prepared to fill hours... and nothing comes.
I used to be able to write no matter the time of day. Stories constantly filled my head, inspiration was indeed abundant.
Over the years I feel as though I've lost myself. Perhaps I simply grew up. More concerned with social aquaintances and romances then the time I used to spend appeasing my mind.
Though through these more 'grown up' years I do infact find myself lost, switching between who I am, who I want to be and who I some how end up being every now and then. I seem to find myself in a constant repeat, a failure in learning from my mistakes. Time and time again I run along with my flamboyant nature, the impulsive side I possess; and time and time again I find myself in the same positions completley aware of how I could have provented them. I begin to wonder if these are concious or subconcious decisions I make. I have a concious desire for emotional saftey and I am aware of the idea that to choose the wrong things means you never find something you couldnt bare to lose, therefore avoiding a greater pain then that of what your wrong decisions cause you.
On the other hand, I have attempted a couple of times to do things the right way and though my actions are different, one could argue I still begin with the wrong choice, thinking stupidly that it may just be completley different to last time. Here is where I question my subconcious, am I doing these things on purpose?
There is no such thing as instant gratification.
There is no such thing as emotional security.
It takes a far lesser amount of time to destroy something then it does to build it.
Being hurt is what being human is about; and we learn nothing from intentionally destroying what we build.
Unless ofcourse we have been building nothing at all.
In which case we are doomed to wondering where our all our towers, our accomplishments have gone, knowing full well that we were too scared to begin constructing them in the first place.
I have started to find myself again with real reason to write. With a real career path that I can write for and at such a young age the recent oppurtunities that have opened up for me are more then I could have imagined; and completley different to what I'd hoped.
I have been lost.
In the late nights.
The cigarettes.
The emotional disatisfaction.
The constant company that prevents a total sense of abandonment.
And the inability to just simply not deal with what bullet life has shot you with this time.
But thats not me, thats her. Thats not how I deal with things.
After a significant wounding I have almost found the will to be me again and I am completley content in sitting in bed in my 1950's silk and lace gown reading a book of 30 pyschological essays; hoping that one day I will be as positive of the lessons in life as Gordon Livingston.
When daylight holds out just an hour longer and I have time to appreciate what the day has been; I imagine myself being able to fill pages with words. Fill books. Fill hours with scribbling to myself;but I reach for that book with the pages prepared to fill hours... and nothing comes.
I used to be able to write no matter the time of day. Stories constantly filled my head, inspiration was indeed abundant.
Over the years I feel as though I've lost myself. Perhaps I simply grew up. More concerned with social aquaintances and romances then the time I used to spend appeasing my mind.
Though through these more 'grown up' years I do infact find myself lost, switching between who I am, who I want to be and who I some how end up being every now and then. I seem to find myself in a constant repeat, a failure in learning from my mistakes. Time and time again I run along with my flamboyant nature, the impulsive side I possess; and time and time again I find myself in the same positions completley aware of how I could have provented them. I begin to wonder if these are concious or subconcious decisions I make. I have a concious desire for emotional saftey and I am aware of the idea that to choose the wrong things means you never find something you couldnt bare to lose, therefore avoiding a greater pain then that of what your wrong decisions cause you.
On the other hand, I have attempted a couple of times to do things the right way and though my actions are different, one could argue I still begin with the wrong choice, thinking stupidly that it may just be completley different to last time. Here is where I question my subconcious, am I doing these things on purpose?
There is no such thing as instant gratification.
There is no such thing as emotional security.
It takes a far lesser amount of time to destroy something then it does to build it.
Being hurt is what being human is about; and we learn nothing from intentionally destroying what we build.
Unless ofcourse we have been building nothing at all.
In which case we are doomed to wondering where our all our towers, our accomplishments have gone, knowing full well that we were too scared to begin constructing them in the first place.
I have started to find myself again with real reason to write. With a real career path that I can write for and at such a young age the recent oppurtunities that have opened up for me are more then I could have imagined; and completley different to what I'd hoped.
I have been lost.
In the late nights.
The cigarettes.
The emotional disatisfaction.
The constant company that prevents a total sense of abandonment.
And the inability to just simply not deal with what bullet life has shot you with this time.
But thats not me, thats her. Thats not how I deal with things.
After a significant wounding I have almost found the will to be me again and I am completley content in sitting in bed in my 1950's silk and lace gown reading a book of 30 pyschological essays; hoping that one day I will be as positive of the lessons in life as Gordon Livingston.
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