Breaking out of my box.
Date: Feb 4th, 2009 11:33:21 pm - Subscribe
Mood: worn
What I'm hearing: Easy Listening

I don't like being forced into a box. Especially a box that I cannot create, that I cannot construct, that I cannot design.

All of these things I use are fake. All of these things I buy are fake. None of them are what I am really looking for.

What am I really looking for?

I need to break out of here before I can finally see. My vision is being blocked by this box.

Hopefully my eyes have not become too weak without exposure.

Or maybe blinding sunlight is exactly what I need.
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Thank goodness I know how to swim
Date: Sep 21st, 2008 3:13:57 am - Subscribe
Mood: twitchy
What I'm hearing: Pearl Jam

Too many things around me are changing. And this isn't turning out the way I planned. I'm not really sure why I am surprised by this. Things never really went to plan before, and it is not like I had a guarantee from God that He would go along with my notions this time. So, like every other time, I will have to go with flow. That is all I can do. Sometimes I just wish I could see over the crest of the wave to where we are headed. Before it all comes crashing to shore. Thank goodness I know how to swim.
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Just to feel alive.
Date: Mar 17th, 2008 12:49:42 am - Subscribe
Mood: frazzled
What I'm hearing: TRS

I walk by the corner market, basking in the California sun.
When the smogs rolls through the sky,
and mimics the feeling I have become.
I watch the smoke trailing,
from my cigarette,
and look to God for the chance to forget.
All these thoughts roll through my mind,
breaking down the walls,
I had built once upon a time.
I had hoped to forget.
Once I had forgiven.
I had hoped to live truly,
In this time that I'm living.
I always have my sunglasses,
in case your light is too bright.
I always have a dollar,
for coffee at midnight.
In search of life,
I read books that taught me...
nothing.
Because that is all that is known.
Take my time,
that is fine,
take my time,
until I find
that which is missing,
that I already have,
that I know is out there.
My youthful optimism,
is my strongest drive,
faster than a speeding car
and I roll down the windows,
looking for the breeze,
just to feel alive.

Just to feel alive.


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One More Attempt at the Last Time
Date: Feb 13th, 2008 1:19:40 am - Subscribe
Mood: manipulative
What I'm hearing: Mariana's Trench

The smoke swirls around in front of my eyes.

I tell myself again, "this is the last time."

I have already planned the ceremonious act in my head. I have adapted the ritual from previous attempts. Trying to romanticize that which is killing me (Doesn't that sound familiar?).

These are the choices I have made. I know this in my mind, but do I really understand what it means? I am playing with my own time.

Maybe, just maybe, I like to be in control of something in my life, even if destroys me. I know you can't control that behavior in others.

On the path to acceptance. On the path to .... somewhere. I can't really see that far in the distance. Is the smoke, or the fear, or the denial blocking my view?
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Boggled by a Drop of Iron
Date: Feb 7th, 2008 11:25:44 pm - Subscribe
Mood: dramatic
What I'm hearing: Say Anything

Right now, flowing through my bloodstream, pulsing through my veins, there is but a single drop of iron. My body needs this. The iron flows through my heart, being pumped through my body. It flows through my mind, past the memories of years gone past, friendships gone stale, relationships destroyed. Still, this drop of iron flows. Bits of it, in my fingers, as I type this very message. This iron was not created for me. It is part of the static, already determined supply of iron in our universe. No more can be created, and it cannot be destroyed. Before, I was born, this iron belonged somewhere else. A million years ago, was it but a piece of iron ore, buried deep within the earth, perhaps in a place I have never even been. But still, the same drop of iron persists through to today. And it will continue after I am gone. I am simply the keeper of this small bit of the universe during the limited window of my life. And so it is with every other component of my being. I am connected to the rest of the universe. I am constructed of "borrowed parts," we all are. We are innately tied to everything and everyone else. We can not separate ourselves from the rest of the world, no matter how hard we try.

My mind is completely, and utterly boggled.

"If I die and go to hell real soon,
it will appear to me as this room,
and for eternity I lay in bed."
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