|
1st_escape
I just want to breathe. - Subscribe
|
| Up here on the stage, expecting to spill my guts out. Cheap thrills and quick lyrics, the soundtrack to my life. Feeling like I haven't slept for days. I strain to keep my eyes open, and my mind functioning, I want nothing more than to sink into the deep abyss of my bed, and never to leave. But, the hurricane of thoughts and feelings that are begging to be released force me to stay up until my eyes are as red as my blood. No mood to describe. The mood is everchanging. Somedays my mood is as ugly as sludge in a sewer, others days it's as deep and blue as the Pacific Ocean. Always able to boil down my life experiences to the most basic analogy, in this case; 25 cent supermarket jewlery. I hope to God with every fiber of my being that you never find this... except of course, then you'd know everything, and maybe you'd be more accepting, more understanding. More than likely though, you'd judge. You'd judge me so hard, I'd never be able to show my face again. I know it's harsh, but I'm simply making an educated guess. Your track record shows a less than welcoming history. Don't worry, I'll keep hiding the truths, I'll let them fade away until maybe I won't even recognize them. I've done it that way for the past four years, and I've learned now that when you bury something, you always think about where it's buried. I hope the next four years won't be smothered, but will open to the vast expanse of fresh air soon to be available to me. I just want to breathe. |
|
1st_escape
My own life along the way. Apr 17th, 2005 3:28:05 pm - Subscribe
|
| In my memory, there are a handful of times in which you actually seemed to be a real person. You talked to me like I had something to say that mattered. You actually listened, and that is what surprised me the most. You boggled my mind, but even so, I've learned that I can provoke this reaction of a real person only if I'm extremely careful. I have to control the conversation and the mood on my end. I've found that you only seem to respond if I withhold the true issues that bother me, and if I bite my tongue in fear of intense criticism. Just because I'm young doesn't mean I don't think. You tell me that you know everything, that you've already been there, already done that, and you're just trying to give me a head start. If you were me, would you accept what others said at face value? No, of course not. That's a part of it, experience. It's not all about the finish line, but about the journey getting there. I want my journey to be my own. I want my own falls, my own triumphs, my own life along the way. |
|
1st_escape
I would love nothing more. Apr 19th, 2005 6:32:58 am - Subscribe
|
|
So incredibly and unexplainably confused. First, riding as high as a mountain, as high as the birds. And just as free. Unbreakable. Untouchable. Unbelievable. Then just as quickly as it is achieved, it vanishes. So incredibly and unexplainably cynical, pessimistic, suicidal. The glass is neither half full nor half empty. Somebody has taken it and smashed it right in front of my eyes. As I see the life force flowing on the ground in all directions, (just like my thoughts) I would love nothing more than to grab one of the jagged crystalline pieces, and use it to release the pain. Release the confusion. Release anything, just to prove I am real. Fuck. I've done it before, and I think I'm going to do it again. When you watch it, you can see your regrets, your failures, your mistakes become solid. They don't exist only as thoughts in your mind; they're tangible, three dimensional objects that carry your life on their own. The color of shame. I feel unworthy of all that is given to me, and it would be simple and just to take all of it away. I don't belong here. That's obvious. If I did, I wouldn't hate it so much. This Wal*Mart world is not for me. It's suffocating me alive. I'm being smothered by ugly stucco and tiles roofs. I can't stand to think that I've sold out, it's so wretched it makes me sick to my stomach. My WB lifestyle is sucking me dry, it's using all my energy to make the fake appear to be the truth. Irony is always here though, because everyone else is doing it to, but nobody will admit. I'm admitting it. I'm saying it out loud, and now I'm being shunned because of it. That's alright. I can shut myself out from everyone else for just 5 more months. I'll bury myself in my work, in my books, in my music. In anything that can distract me from this consumer-driven existence. It shouldn't be this way. That's obvious, isn't it? These ideas aren't radical, they aren't even original, but they seem so dangerous to people around me. If I were to ever break down, it's going to be soon. I want to scream so loud, that even God will glance down. The peak is coming soon. I can see it, I can feel it's strength looming over me like some sort of sick goal awaiting to be accomplished, except it shouldn't have to be accomplished. I should never ever have to come near it, but I know I'm almost there. And it's as simple as that. The path I've taken, the decisions I've made have all led me to this point. I'd like to blame it on fate, and say it was written in the stars, that way I'd pass off the blame to Some One else, but that's not the way of it. Nobody has the control but me, despite what you may think. I have the reins, and I'm tired of you trying to grab them from me. |
|
1st_escape
In turn, you've lost mine. Apr 21st, 2005 10:49:28 pm - Subscribe
|
| You never cease to amaze me. I thought we were going to be able to get through this as civil, human beings.... maybe even as a family, but time after time I'm tired of explaining it to you. I have to keep my two worlds separate from each other, otherwise they'll clash and collide. You say you'll be able to control yourself, and that I don't doubt, but you miss one big point. It isn't just you I'm trying to keep separated, it's the other person, too. I can't control either of your actions, let alone together, so the only thing I know how to do is build this way between my two worlds. And let me tell you, climbing between both sides of this wall day after day is very very tiring. And you constantly question my desire to leave this place, to end this chapter. What don't you understand? I'm ready for my future, and I don't think you are, and in turn are trying to drag out the present. It's too late now I suppose to do anything else, and as time continues to slip by me, beyond my control, then this will eventually fade out, until it becomes nothing but an unpleasant memory of my childhood. You dwell too much on the past, too much on what has already happened. You blind yourself to the future, to my future, and that makes you overdramatic and incredibly untrusting. I don't think I deserve this from you, I don't think I've done anything horribly wrong, not now and not ever. It really bothers me that you can't bring yourself to trust me, and in turn, you've lost mine. |
|
1st_escape
All I know is nothing. Apr 22nd, 2005 10:05:23 pm - Subscribe
|
| Somebody brought you up today, and it brought all those tough, bitter memories back to the surface. It made me remember how used I felt. How insignificant. Like some sort of stuffed toy that thinks it is loved by a child, until that one fateful moment when the child gives the toy to the family pitbull. After I stopped talking to you, I felt like insides were exposed for everyone to see. And, unfortunately for me, they weren't made of white cotton, they were made of pure, human matter. Cells. Blood. And then the deeper things that you can't always see. Emotions. Feelings. Thoughts. That was months ago, though, and now I've moved on. (Although my dependence on this blog would suggest otherwise.) I still don't quite understand what actually happened. Did I even do anything wrong? My memory has distorted the events to fit this vision of my life that I've created myself. If I become so completely overdramatic, it somewhat mutes the pain that I actually did feel. I don't want to get even close to that ever again. I can't imagine myself even trying. Isn't that...abnormal? Of course, I don't know who dictates normal, but I'm sure that They would say being alone does not fit the definition. Is it so wrong if I don't see myself with anyone but me? Of course, I know the real reasons behind this logic. But, it's so much easier if I don't try to fix the cause of this problem, because if I do, if I start to dig that deep, I'm absolutely terrified of what I'm going to find. How is that possible? How can be I so terrified of something that exists inside of me? All I know is ... nothing. |