Radical Man

Tonight

My body and my mind are rebelling against me.
I feel so tired.
But I feel such a need to be active.
Tonight I want to cut my hair short again.
Really short.
Short. Non-existent.

I have this obsession with changing myself lately.
I want to re-invent

If I had more money, I'd go for it.
I plan on, once I'm 18, getting my nose pierced.
And my belly button.
Getting two tattoos,

and bleaching chunks of my hair.

I want to wear more of my daring clothing,

the stuff i do my photo shoots in.

I want to paint my nails red.

I want to draw a murel on my closet wall.

I want to feel so free tonight.
I want to not think about the future

and the recent past.
I want to think about

WHAT DO I WANT?

What do I want?
How often do you ask that question,

with the intentions to seriously listen to yourself,

and deal and cater to what you learn?
How often do you say,

"Gee I wish I could..."
"Gee, I would really like to..."
"If only I was..."
Well, why not?
What's holding us back?
What's holding me back tonight?
Nothing. That's what.
I think I'll go do something radical.

WHAT DO YOU WANT?
&,
WHY NOT GET IT?

The Frozen city starts to glow.

Seeing you places where I am

makes my heart jump

in a completly inappropriate sort of way.
How dare it?
How dare you?! Being in public places?!


Seeing that you've lost weight,

knowing you aren't eating.
Seeing the circles under your eyes,

and knowing you aren't sleeping.

Hearing you voice shake,

and knowing you are fighting.
Seeing you smile,

knowing you crave my touch.

Listening to you speak,

of how you're going to destroy yourself this time,

knowing I can't hold on to you.
Knowing you need someone.
Knowing I can't be that someone.
Knowing I won't be that someone.

Alice entered Wonderland,
pushed through the looking glass.
Demanded the secrets of the World.
The essences,
the perfections, and the faults,
and gave it up.
Why Alice? Why?
Why would you go home?
Why leave Wonderland?
And Wendy-
Why leave Neverland?
Why?
I'd never go home.

Ee,
what is it about you that makes me crave summer?
Oh. Right. That. :)
We'll have a grand time when you return,
a grand time.
We'll go for drives to the country,
and as much as we love the mountains,
we shall bask in the glory that is the praries.

What made today different?

It's been a Long Day

Getting walked on is a part of life.
A camp friend once told me,

"It's better to be a doormat,

than to be a footstool."

Well,

what do you think?

I don't know, myself.
All I know is that sometimes,
the things you, and you, and you,

make me want to scream and pull out my hair.
And don't get me wrong,

I'm a strong person.
I pride myself in it.
But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt,

right?
Right.
That doesn't mean I don't get hurt everytime you say you'll call, and don't.
Everytime you don't take no for an answer,

Everytime you stand me up,
Everytime you ignore me

Everytime you belittle me
Everytime you call me "child" and "baby"

Everytime you walk out

Or run away

Or blame me

Or shame me

Or simply push me too hard.

When you accidently smack me in the face, and laugh.
When I tell you I'm sad, and you tell me

"If it makes you feel better, I'm not mad you didn't want to do something today."
I resolved this year to not be a doormat.
Perhaps I'm not,

maybe the answer all along is that I am indeed a footstool.

I never felt better,

than the day I looked back on my food journal,

and realized that that part of my life was behind.
I never felt more beautiful, more proud of myself.
I never felt like a stronger and better person.

Dubia.
Dubia.
Dubia.
The word, the name,

Rolls off my tounge.
I want to be there.
I want to be there,

basking in luxery,

releaved of worry for a few days.

Come with me.
I've extended a hand to you,
I'm asking you to come to a place where they sell

the magic carpets,

where the gold is more beautiful,

where the spice and the sea never leave you,

where the heat soaks into our bones,

and we can leave this cold wasteland prarie behind,

where the freedom is complete

and every breath is a safe one.

You can go anywhere.
Where do you go?

You text me & wake me up, but I don't care a smidge

Ugh chemistry

suffice to say, I do not believe I passed.

I don't like Chinese food.

How it smells or tastes or looks.
I just don't like it, can't stand it.
Too bad where I live it's the new thing.

Shucks.

Sometimes, people can't take a hint.
Sometimes I can't either.

But if I say that I dont want to do this,

well,

Golly. I wonder what I mean by that?

My favourite lotion

is Shea Butter from The Body Shop,

which is nice and thick and hydrating-y.

And I mixed in some lavender essential oil,

so now it smells wonderful too.
I use it on my hands and my legs.

I need more books, this much is true.
I've read all the ones I have.

I think I'll go book shopping sometime soon.

http://www.bookcrossing.com/

this is the greatest thing ever,

I have started using it,

and am about to release my first book!
horrah!

Tell someone you would miss them if they died,
and then explain why.

Bar Song Two

George's mind whirled, flashing back to the Wednesday before last, when a young women entered his office, carrying flowers, and wearing the most hideous pink polo shirt in all of humanity.
"Sandra's Flowers"
stated the back in fat, black script.
Sandra's Flowers, for George.
George's flowers.

His birthday flowers.
As the young last, attractive enough to be so in that horrid pink shirt, handed him those sweet white carnations, he couldn't help but notice that her hands were soft and graceful, as they moved to tie her hair back, or how that said hair was richly toned with reds and browns.
And how he felt terribly

obviously,

mortifyingly,

48.

As she walked away, he open the little card with his fat old fingers.
"Happy Birthday Daddy"
it read
"Love Mary, Beth, & Joe"
48.

Do you ever, just breifly,
fatasize about being someone else?
I do. I wish I was him, or her, or the girl on the bus.
I wish I knew them, wish I understood them.
Wish I could help them, be there for their choices and their hard times.
A girl from Dubia, in all black.
A little boy in spain, playing soccer with his friends.
An artist in France, who knows all the real places, the ones tourists would never go to.

And there are days when I wish to remain so anonymous that I won't even talk to my friends.
I'll just go out in the city and chat with strangers.
I'll wander and be lost in the crowds.
By a hotdog from a guy on Portage
and tip him generously.
Run at pidgeons on the street, because I don't like them.
Sit on the back of a bus for hours, not really going anywhere.

If the world ended today, right now, what would you regret?

(not holding you enough
not being there for you enough
not taking enough risks
not smiling enough)

Oh dear.

Lately, I have been thinking about you daily.

Get out of my head

"Gawan, Geet"
Today I decided

"hey. lets see if we can go a whole day without talking to eachother"
so i dont text you or call you

thinking to myself, rather smugly,

that hey. im awesome.

but then you go ahead and call me yourself, without prompting.

Well, let me say my smuggness vanished.

How quickly I forget that this isn't like it was with him and me.

And that's good... right?
Unless we happened too fast after the fact

in which case, oh no,

what if im replacing him with you

what if...

and then....

but....

what if...

what if....

what if?

Drama preformance today, by the 11's.
Wonderful and cute.
Special shout out to Trev and The, because they made me laugh so hard I had to cover my mouth, as I was recording.
Great job kiddo's!


Regina Spektor is the new person I want to be.

Some people need to just go away. You know?
people who just can't leave you alone, won't stop talking to you,

to the point where it's like,

I hardly know you, dont dump all your issues on me, I DONT CARE, dont think of me as a replacment her.
I feel like people are trying to get me to take your place Ee.
I hate it.
I refuse it kiddo.
Because you're not gone.
You just can't be....

How awesome would this be?
It would be so handy...

and would keep your cookies nice and warm and chewy ^^

When's Lent?

A pictures worth

My new dream bedroom.
Small but... perfect.

This makes me smile

Fucking ephalents :)

I miss summer

Eloquent and true

sites i love

photobucket

weheartit

foundmagazine

teenink

postsecret

blogger (of course)
picnik

ee's livespace

wikihow

bookcrossing

explosim

Phone Hugs

Babe I know things are tough

I know what it's like to want to turn yourself inside out

to feel like someone ripped out your heart and ate it.
I know.
But do you know what it feels like to sit here

watching you fall?
Watching you fall, again and again and again and again...
Dear, it's hard.
It's hard for me knowing this is hard for you.
It's hard seeing you drag yourself through each day.
I know it hurts.

I also know, you're only human.
To hurt is to be human.
To love is too.
And a broken heart ain't so romantic after all,

you and I both know.

And I know we don't see eachother nearly enough anymore.
I know it sucks being able to only say
"phone hug"
And not be held, or hold someone close, because at times,

they're all the matter.

they're all that's keeping us upright

I guess what I'ma sayin' is...

I love you, in whatever twisted way.
Brother, friend, almost best friend.
Don't you dare take yourself away from me.

And I can push you off as much as I like
but in the end,
a brave face is what does me in.
it's facing my demons head on
that gets me fucked.
that gets me broken and empty.
it's saying
'let's get this over with'
that will lead me into the future
that i don't want.
it's snowing
but i feel it like a heavy rain
i feel it like a thick fog.
i get up in the middle of the night
bring a blanket,
turn on the bathroom lights,
and fan,
and lock the door.
i sleep in the tub,
i sleep with my eyes wide open.
i sleep inside a different skin.
i live inside the tub
while my body goes through each day with you.
while my body lets you hold me...
i stay safe in the tub
counting my fingers
my toes
all my scars;
two on the face, one on my foot...
countless more on arms and legs and a couple on my hand.
the birthmark no one's seen but me
and my turned in pinky toe.
my backwards elbows.
i take stock.
am i all here?




if my sister didn't claim it,
i would probably want to draw more

I'll be standing on a street corner, all mysterious and giddy

Aching to pupate
Aching to pup-p-p-pate...
Pu-pupate, pu pate,
Pu-pate, pu-pupate, pu pa-ate…
I should peddle butterflies
There's a shortage in the city
I'll stand on a street corner
All mysterious and giddy
When the passers-by pass by
I will open up my trenchcoat
They will see the butterflies
Dangling like fake rolexes
Every morning i'll wake up
With a purpose and a smirk
I'll put on my fake moustache
I'll drink heineken, eat cornflakes
Then i'll call my mom and dad
Tell them that i'm doing fine
Or i'll write a tipsy letter
To a real good friend of mine
Or i'll jump up on the bed
Waltzing madly with the broomstick
But before i leave the house
I will fill my lips with lipstick
But peddling is a dirty sport
There's competition in the city
Everyone is on a street corner
All mysterious and giddy
Some are selling bags and shoes
Some are selling books and gold
I've been standing here for days
Not one butterfly's been sold
And how i'm aching to pupate...
Aching to pup-p-p-pate
Pu-pu-pate, pupate,
Pupate, pu-pu-pate, pu pa-ate
-Regina Spektor

I want to be out of winter
I want to be outside and alone
or outside and with everyone
I want to be camping in the peace gardens
I want to be sleeping on your chest under the stars
because i miss feeling that closeness with another person
I miss being able to lay with someone
with no expectations
of what they think
or what it means
or what tomorrow will bring
what so and so would think of this
what i think of this.
nothing.
i miss just feeling close.

I miss walking the streets downtown and talking to you
or to strangers
or to myself.
I want to live alone deep in the city.
I want to live in a brand new house in suburbia with seven or eight friends.
I want so much
and, I want nothing.

& i would trade it all to have you back here with me.

When i feel any truth, it's then. Bye bye my lover. First I breathe in then out again.

Once upon a time
there was a girl.
She was...
a girl.
She didn't know what she wanted
She didn't like change
unless she met it like an old friend,
which, today, she is.


I can't deal with Ee leaving. I really, really cannot.
Today is my last day with her.
Why does it have to be like this?
it's not fair. at all.
I cried so hard last night. bawled.
my eyes today? crap.
so puffy.


Dear. Eeee.
Darling Eee.
Come back soon.
Come back soon.
I can't take this town without you.
I can't take the world on with that ferocity we've all become accostomed to finding in me.
I shortened my name to one letter in mourning for you.
Remember?
Does this make me stupid?
I'm torn up to an extreme point.
its' like losing a part of myself.
its worse, was worse,
than when i lost Duckie.
I swear.
Because that was neccissary
and this is not.
Come back soon.
My adopted sister
My hearts brother
My better half.

Everyone's talking about how hard H's going to take this.
Because she's a crier.
i love her. we love her. she loves us.
but last night i knew i had it worse.
i felt like i was going to turn myself inside out.
for you and for others,
but i knew i couldn't take this
any of this without you

You always tell me to smile
"come on 'nin"
But don't you know, that's all I can do.
Because I'm the strong one.
I'm the rock. I'm the one who needs to smile
and laugh
and make sure everyone stays alright.
I can't cry in school like Hannah.
I can't.
I have to hold it in until i feel like i'm going to burst
and then i go home and lock my door and cry to Ee and Maj over the phone
But the next day the only way you can tell is the bags under my eyes.
"Just like St.Francis, the little birds came. Lonely, for a little warmth. You give them your music , but they just want a song. Oh no, I'll never learn."
The next day i'll be smiling. My hair will be messy and wild. My eyes will be open, my mouth will be smiling. I'll be dancing and singing as much as ever.
I'll be writing and hugging and making everyone else laugh
because that's what I do.
But when night comes, and i hurt so bad i can't move,
where is my strong one?
You.
You are my strong one, & I am yours.
And how can I get by without the tree my roots are entangled in?
How can transplantation happen without destroying me?
How I can I do this without you?
I can't take over the world without you.
I can't go through every day knowing you should be here, and aren't.
I can't flip through memories without knowing I've been cheated,
you've been cheated.
life's a cheat.
And you're going to leave and change and be this big person,
be a rebel
"test your limits"
and i can't wait for you.
i want nothing more than for you to grow, for you to be happy.
I want nothing more.
be why can't you just stay here and do it?

This turned into a really long piece.
Sorry kids.
I had a big angst attack.
I'll be better soon (:

Ps.
I'm at school.
it's 11am.
and tom is coming to pick me up at 3ish if he can get the car! (:
i haven't seen him in 7 months.
i can't believe we're still so close,
if not closer.

Top of the World - Dixie Chicks

I wished I was smarter
I wished I was stronger
I wished I loved Jesus
The way the my wife does
I wished it'd been easier
Instead of any longer
I wished I could've stood
Where you would've been proud
That won't happen now
That won't happen now
There's a whole lot of singing
That's never gonna be heard
Disppearing every day
Without so much as a word somehow
Think I broke the wings
Off that little songbird
She's never gonna fly
To the top of the world
Right now
Top of the world
I don't have to answer
Any of these questions
Don't have no god to
Teach me no lessons
I come home in the evening
Sit in my chair
One night they called me for supper
But I never got up
I stayed right there
In my chair
There's a whole lot of singing
That's never gonna be heard
Disappearing every day
Without so much as a word somehow
I think I broke the wings
Off a little songbird
She's never gonna fly
To the top of the world
Right now
I wished I'd had known you
Wished I had shown you
All of the things
I Was on the inside
I'd pretend to be sleeping
When you'd come in, in the morning
To whisper goodbye
Go to work in the rain
I don't know why
Don't know why
Cause everyone's singing
We just wanna be heard
Disappearing every day
Without so much as a word somehow
Wanna grab a hold
Of that little songbird
Take her for a ride
To the top of the world
Right now
Top of the world

Let's write a song that we can sing to.

Some poetry from recently. A rather grab bag of thoughts and feelings. Some are real things I'm feelings. Most are fiction.

If you love me,
won't you let me know?
cause this silence is killing me.
We were a one man band on
a New York street corner.
Scratch. Two man band, sharing
one set of instruments.
We were painters on a sidewalk
we were theater manager's
we rang bells are 4am
if you love me
please just let me know
if i could scream or silence for you
i would.
if leaving this was possible,
i would've. i would still.


It's so hard to get you to feel me.
It's so hard to lie here in your arms,
open to you.
You just lie there
holding me.
Monster.
Kissing my lips.
Monster
taking my hands.
Monster,
doesn't see me.
I'm kicking and screaming
against your body
I'm hearing your murmur
it's alright
to my muffled screams.
And you lie there
holding me down.
Monster.
Stealing a kiss.
Monster.
Gripping my hands.
Monster.
Doesn't see me.


Hear her,
in that delicate
soprano voice
swearing in song
and singing of voids.
Even her voice lies to you,
though her words speak truth.
You see the colour of her lips,
not the frown.
The shape of her eyes
not the wall behind them.
And you see the white
fragility of her hands
not them pushing you away.


I close my mind and see him asking for truth,
and her reminding me how it really is.
Lies to myself are still lies.
Maybe more powerful ones.
I can't deny this anymore.
I can't choose to look away.
I never wanted to say those words, not even to myself.
_____'_ _______ ____.

Your heart
under my ear.
Says nothing.
My heart in your teeth,
says it all.
Your heart in my hands
is warm.
And as we mesh and tangle,
as we cross and uncross,
and try to untangle the mess we made,
our hearts in unison.
Our hearts are in chorus,
saying,
"this is the only way it should be"

Maybe I am Afraid

I lied.
I am afraid of you.
I'm terribly, horribly afraid of you.

You don't have to look at me
(you can't look at me)

and you just see right through me.
You see through me and under me and over me and inside me.

"Hello ______. Dance with me in the snow while your eyes glisten like melting ice... and the frost behind them thaws"

You ask me why I'm so afraid of you

and i reply with tentatively that cannot be read on text that i am not afraid of you.

In truth, I don't know completely. It's the things you say.
How you get it bang on everytime.
How you know. How you just know.

"You... need love. I think it's why youre so...hurt...cold. You need something to compliment the artist that you are. Like I said. Romance, love...expression."

Kid. We both know I'm not allowed to have them in you.
We both know very well.

"Don't try to be cold and closed off. I know thats not you at all. You're afraid of this and you don't want me to know it. Let me help you."

I can protest it all I want, but I am.
I had a dream the other night, i was in your arms. You were speaking, and laughing, and when I looked up at you, you weren't you.
You were him.
And I woke up and cried.
I didn't answer your call, for that and other reasons.

I don't want that again.
And I don't understand this. I don't know why this is happening.

"Because i'm a bi polar kid whos in a manic phase who is attracted to a bi polar kid who doesn't know what she wants."

Oh god.

Bar Song

There's a fire in your eyes,
and I hope you let it burn.

Why I haven't been blogging much:

Those of you who remember my new year promises,
recall the 'finish a novel one'?
I'm working on it.
i know that I'm 16, I'm young, I'm inexperienced,
but what better reasons to write one?
this is how I'll learn.

my main character, much to my dismay, is named George.
forgive me, i didn't want that name. he just told me so. i tried changing it, but changing the name changed him. i fought this battle for many days, with Ee by my side in spirit and cell phone, trying to coax a new name out of him.
End result was frustration on my part, and victory in his.

George, being my first important main character, my first character I am actually paying attention to, is consuming my time. You may find me slightly obsessed with him. I have a book dedicated to his story. A sketch pad to what he looks like, why he looks like that. another book for questions I have, and the few answers i get.
"would he be different if his job was any different?" yes of course he would be, but how..?
"does he like houseplants?"
"do his kids look like him? if not, does that bother him at all?"
"he bowls. why?"
"does he smoke? did he ever? why is he an alcoholic?"

etc.
You can be certain to hear from me and George on a fairly regular basis. For now, I'll give you a little piece of what I've written.


Bar Song.

-Having spent the time it took him to get from his office to here, with his head firmly down, and his brain occupied with his phone call, he neglected to look to see if the door he has opening and thusly walked into, was indeed the correct one.
Apparently, it was not.
"Don, I'm going to have to call you back"
"Sure George, don't forget Monday."
Without bothering to acknowledge the reminder, George snapped his phone shut and looked around.
The lights were not so harsh on his eyes, now that the shock from the grey day outside sudden;y being replaced was gone.
First was the realization of where he wasn't.
Then, the shock of where he had ended up.

This was not Jack's bar, his usual Tuesday haunt for after work pre-happy hour drinks.
This wasn't any bar.
There wasn't any alcohol here at all.

This was a flower shop.
Somehow, in his preoccupied state, his feet and lead him to her; to the last place he felt capable of being.

Week;Fired;Highlights;Ambitious;Ee

Week at a glance:
Tuesday. Easy day. Going to be very cold, so it's possible few people will be at school. Have to finish my math, &my lit responce. newspaper meeting.

Wed. Short day. Not much going on. After school, mall with E and H. Then they go home but i go to work.

Thursday? Do I work? Do I not? Does life hate me?

Friday? If I dont work thursday, i work here. If I don't work here, then ehch and ee are gonna come over (maybe i should inform them)

Saturday. Work the afternoon/evening shift. Afterwards I believe the imc kiddies are getting together somewhere fun to do something fun.

Sunday. Morning devoted to cleaning and reading. Afternoon to homework, eveing to coffee with Paul-ee-o.

Not a bad week if you ask me.

Let go?
I might be without a job soon...

PINK!
I have steaked my hair red. Well, it was supposed to be red. It's kinda red/pink. Oppsie :D
Oh well. i like it. why not huh?
"I'm gonna do what I want to, and I wanna dye my hair blue"
Just found out they're premanent.
ohhhh dear....
xD
oppsie.. again.

This year I had decided to take up the guitar again
and to try to learn piano.
to finish a novel (good or bad)
and to drink more water.
I feel ambitious, but also unproductive. I have taken no steps towards any of those yet. Well, perhaps the first one.

Ee leaves in 13 days.
I don't think I can take it.

Life is Art

What will be your muse today?
What will be your paper, your easel?
Who is your paint, who is your pencil?
Who, for heaven sakes, holds your hand to canvas and lets it go?
Who is your canvas?

What will you do with it today?

Nerd Time

I'll admit it.
I'm a nerd.
An english nerd.
And, hell, I'm proud of it.
I have pride in the fact that I am top of my english/history class. I am proud I am beating the best students I know, (sorry kiddos:]) and I love the work, and the fact that Mr.L has so much faith in what i do.
I love getting work back from a teacher who is a tough marker with 96% percents. I love reading his comments and critisisms on my work, everything from "great opening, nice use of repatition" to, "why can't you understand comma splices?!, this is awkward and poorly done"
because they help me grow and learn.

On the flip side,
chem is killing me.
I just can't understand it. All those formula's and rules and definitions and how carbon makes up everything organic and some inorganic and how n=M*V and molarity and molality and this and that and presipitation isnt rain. plasma is the most common substance in the universe. its just overwhelming. i'm so bad at it, it's unreal. i can't do those calculations and the difference between an atom and molecule escaped me until very recently. Learning about how scuba divers get the bends is frustrating because it seems so simple but i cant hold onto it.
can't win 'em all now can i? Chem is so cool, learning why everything is the way it is. it's like holding the key to the universe. i just keep dropping it and misplacing it and just can't seem to get it to work. Is my lock faulty, or my key I wonder...?

Is there something about yourself or you do that make you feel great? Something that make you feel slightly smug? Something you feel you're great at?
Is there something you're the best at?
Is there something you're the worst at?

What do you love about each?

You're Lame and Decrepit

Tonight you're here
but will you love me tomorrow?


Reading old notebooks is interesting.
it's like photographs of me.
and, a pictures worth a thousand words they say.


i wish i was a bird
so i could fly, of course
and shake hands with
each star.
Learn their names
and exchange
"How'd you do" 's

i wish i was an Angel sometimes.
Slipping by unseen
so i could
watch over you
Sing you sweet lullabies,
and keep you
bright and safe.



There are five empty chairs at the table.
five.
five empty places around me.
six i count the one my bag is on.
six.
i fill those in my mind
with the people i love best.
one. ee
two. maj three. steve
four. dust five. zed
six. six.
six is - was - bird, who,
is better off gone. better off the chair
for coats and bags.
in my mind my five full chairs
(six with bags, seven with me!)
in my mind my five full
chairs smile at me.
And I smile back.

Old stuff

innocence is the fault of youth

-

Saw my defining moment
saw it pass me by
didn't move a muscle
just stood and waved
goodbye

-

fucking mirror
who's laughing now?
huh?
you can't break me
I broke you.
Who's laughing
now.

-

if words could kill
you'd be dead a hundred times over
for all the times i've written
for all the times each word cut into me,
for every carefully crafted phrase.
i look at the past
at my writings
and see...
horror.
every word i wrote pains me now,
so much unhappiness on one little page
after one little page, after one little page.
what had me that way?
somehow i can only faintly recall

-

But this is a song over done
maybe one day we'll find the time to write
our own little songs.
Maybe one day we'll all know how.
'Cause sweetie can sing, but can't write his own.
He sings what he doesn't believe, doesn't understand.
I hear his voice and hear a lie.
A beautiful lie. A believable lie.
Write and singing, my own rough tunes.
They may be bad but at least they're true.
A love song, a hate song, a nonesense, a collage.
Little bird can borrow all my songs.
Take them and twist them and claim them.
Writing more is easiest.
It's me on a Greyhound. It's the subtle freak out.
It was the night we spent in the long grass.
The test that was left empty, & the words you never said to me.
Each truth will find it's time to finish
when the ink stains jump onto my fingers again.
When the ache of his empty place becomes too much

-

Yes i had said we needed a break.
i stand by it.
it wasnt an attack.
i cant feel devoted.
i never said i hate you.
i dont need you, and i need that.
not feeling what we used to pulls my mouth down
but that's not enough.
no more fights,
no more tears.
this is the end of it,
until we both think it's worth it.

-

A new pen.
Let it go.
Maybe this time.
Maybe in this one
I'll find the write words,
pen the perfect rhymes,
strike the right chords.
Maybe this time,
maybe this time i'll get it right.
Maybe this pen'll be the one
that I can write magic with

-

Fools rush in
where angels fear to tread

Fools rush in
where wise men never go.
But wise men never fall in love
so how are they to know?

-

Sometimes
frustration makes me scream
With you,
I never know which way's left.
So tell me to fix my hair.
I'll gurdgingly oblige.
I avoid conflict.
Isn't that a shame?

Insert Curse Words Here

Right, here I go.
Ready for the explosion? Cover your ears ladies and gents.

YOU

where the hell do you get off doing that to me?!

you've never seen me angry, and you certainly did not pick a prime way to see an example of my fury.
do you think that it was okay to just stand me up like that?
do you think it's fine?
did you honestly see it as a good idea?
What, was there no time at all, in the past 12 hours to call me?

Did you just change your mind?
Or did you never want to do it in the first place?
Just wanted to spare my feelings.
Well fuck you.
Fuck. You.
I don't need your bullshit.
I don't need this, here, not here, care, don't care fucking around.

I had too much of that with him

You know that. You knew that.
You knew and yet still you pull this stuff.
Still you do this to me again and again and again
and get offended when my faith in you wavers.

How dare you.
How fucking dare you.

I don't need this.
I don't need you.

If I hear another song about angels-

I will make the pilgrimage to Jerusalem

and I will drink myself to death

Am I wasting myself here

while i can be wasting away elsewhere?
You
You think I make no sense

you think these words are here for the sake

of having words down.

I will go to Aden.
Go to Aden and find the garden
find the garden and go to sleep.
In my sleep I know I'll find my way.

For all my talk of travel

for all my high speechs

all I want is what everyone wants

All I want is a place to breathe

and a place to be free.

I remember taking your hand,

so long ago,

and you taking me on flights.
And I would call you Peter,

and you would call me Sweetheart.
And I would call you Darling,

and you would let me fall.
But oh I remember the stars.
Oh, I remember how the clouds in the air

made me skin tingle

and my very toes want to sing.

Jerusalem cannot hold me down

Garden of Eden will not let you rest.

And I will not let you, Peter

I will not let you

drop me again.
I will not remain in a tower

or a room

or any place I'm put.
It's not survival

It's splashing water on my face
so I don't rip it off.

I will go to Jerusalem and Aden.

I will go and find the bottom

of every bottle,

go and sleep easy in the garden.

2009

I don't wanna make a huge thing out of this new years thing, however, this year i will;

1. put myself out there more
2. finish writing a story
3. take advantage of the oppertunities i have
4. learn how to do something new (cross stiching maybe?)
5. spend one evening a week by myself.
6. feed a homeless man
7. learn double dutch
8. get a head start on my italian, i've let it drop this year
9. decide if i want to continue singing
10. spend less money
11. stop putting it off and get my license
12. apoligize to the people who deserve it
13. let my pride take the day off
14. possibly get a new job
15. actually wear what i have in my wardrobe
16. take better care of myself 17. go to imc and get a hut, and finish a song.
18. go to my cabin with a friend
19. go to my cabin alone
20. spend more time w. old friends
21. go for coffee with people i hardly know
22. get over my fear of diving boards
23. laugh once a day
24. take more pictures
25. let my family teach me something
26. appreciate, embrace, and accept