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remember how the fragile words would rush from thought to paper until I would overflow and build something solid and more real than I had before me remember when you didn't have to have me around but you wanted me anyway we walked on the grass at dusk and let it be what it was remember how it felt before colours became formulae before lines became boundaries when I wanted only to make beautiful things I forgot how good these things could be yet I find it all comes back to me. |
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so I fail and I face my fate so I learned a lot about myself and I gave a lot that I'd rather have kept but was unwilling to give it all and I fail as a result and there is nothing in my life that I do especially well nothing except write poetry that no one reads and I don't know what I want but I need a new me. |
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trying to remember why I gave this up draw a blank voices echo empty room where my life was all my poetry in boxes packed and ready going nowhere no one here where I used to be so they finally took this away from me? |
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I had last year off. I did nothing with my time. I took some drugs, I struggled to get up every morning, I worked full time as a kitchenslave. I came out the other side, but only barely. I nearly lost myself in the haze of sedation, I had to push myself away and my only motivation was that of wanting to know. Sure, I had the family, I had the public pressure, I had the girlfriend (for the start and the end), but it all means nothing when you don't care about your mind. You don't need a mind to communicate, you only need a brain. Perhaps this is why I suddenly felt the urge to write. To say something I actually care about, to feel something that makes me want to write. I'm still trying to become completely human again but perhaps I'm missing certain human qualities now. I don't need other people the way I did in high school. I only socialise if I really want to, I lock myself away and read my university texts instead of going drinking or taking drugs. And I don't fear failure in university, I know I won't but I don't need to study as much as I do, I just find my solace is that of knowledge. Am I a bad person for this? No one would think so, they simply think I am studious. If anybody did worry about this, they'd ask me to have a drink. I don't like drinking all that much, it's such a predictable and wasteful activity. This isn't to say it's not fun, I just wouldn't be the one to suggest it, unless I was feeling sociable. I suppose I haven't been here for a while, I hope to be back soon. I hope I'll have something to say. - N/A |
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So it is exceptionally cold here at my desk this morning. The boiler is struggling to meet our overbearing expectations, and so I am sitting with a space heater wrapped around my legs, and fancy magic mitts on my hands. They are purple. Life has been somewhat fanciful as of late. With babies, and grown-ups, and this insessant cold. It hit -1'F on the weekend. I am pretty well thinking that even Siberia would be warmer... I was reading an article today oddly enough about Chernobyl. It made me smile and think of the empty and barreness of it. To think, that there is a place is this ever expanding world of ours that isn't sought after, and doesn't reek of overpopulation. And the only reason it escapes humanity is because it so heavily radiated. Nature has moved on however... The grass is green, the wildlife lives happily... Its as close to peace as this world will see... ...I hear though, you can book guided tours. |
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Mmm... It has been so long. |
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I don't want numbers they blur the page before my eyes a body count even less do I want names the missing the grieving another night to mourn and days of sorrow coming fear and fire on the blue green planet as we slaughter our people ourselves mass devastation brother sister torture, terror we do not forget rest in peace you die not in vain rest in peace rest in peace and may peace take you home we do not forget they cannot forgive my apocalypse slithers near waiting to strike watching you tearing the beating heart out of the world. |
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don't know why words like snowflakes fall no reason but to speak of the coming tide subtle beauty night calling I desire only words like sunlight piercing to warm me bitter season winter winds now rending words from me like boughs from treetops to scatter on frozen earth like snowflakes freeze still the cheerful spring of poetry my white forest empty, silent, brittle, waits no warmth in words to thaw us don't know why words like snowflakes drift unable to tempt summer back to this place. |
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I put away every sharp object: pin and blade and dangerous edge. I still don't trust myself with scissors, even these days. Part of loving oneself is knowing how far that love extends. Part of being a family is knowing you'll have to leave. How far I've come, to stand here and to hold myself up - courage, pride, strength. I break so easily - tears to drown me; rage to scream at you endlessly - because I'm guilty of knowing that these days are numbered few. Regret sits on the back step with the pumpkin we didn't carve this year, because I wasn't here - unwanted, unaddressed and necessary. I'm not your little girl anymore - I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to go and grow up and go away. I stare at my wrists hating time for dragging me on through life; for tearing us apart and casting me into future. Oh, how I want to remain - I'm not your little girl now, but I'll always be your daughter and I'll always be your big sister; I'll always want this house; I'll never leave. I put away the scissors, and my ink and all my words. I chose to live that night, years ago, for you, so now I have to go. Part of being a family - however torn, however mad - is knowing you'll never have to leave, right? I'll always have what you gave me: courage, pride, strength and love; and I'll always be your daughter your big sister - always belong. |
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So... I used to blog on here all the time... a long time ago. Some of you may remember me. I was pretty depressing... complaining a lot and such. Telling disgusting and dirty secrets... I got rid of all my blogs because I'm over that part of my life. Anyway, I did blog about how I was going to publish a book one day. Well, I'm doing it. A publishing company accepted me. The book's going to be out in ebook, audiobook, paperback, and maybe hardcover by next summer. I'm psyched. But... I knew it would happen. If you want something THAT bad... eventually it'll happen. Things have been going so well for me. I'm just radiating light and love and joy. Read The Power of Now. It helped me A LOT... with life in general. It'll help you too... even if you "don't need help..." That's all. Just randomly felt like coming back here. Every once and a while it is nice to return to the past.  <3 |
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words that die on my tongue, once sole respite, cage me - accuse me of ignoring the truth. I don't want these words. my head echoes with absence. my head a graveyard for words unsaid - unholiest peace. - words move in; use up all the sugar; trash my fragile state of unthinking; tear off the wallpaper, exposing cracks. I kill words on the doorstep, pre-emptive. my domain is of silence and bitterness. no one knocks on my door anymore: loneliest relief. |
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A brief meditation on why I hate everything right now: - I am sick. I feel like my head is encased in a glass fishbowl. - People annoy me. Especially children. Especially the sound of their voices. This is problematic given my job choice. - Today is the last day of work, which, while being a good thing, also kind of sucks because I don't think I will see any of these people again and it reinforces the fact that I have to start EVERYTHING over again in less than a week. - I'm feeling completely alone, and to top that off nicely, everyone that matters to me is off having fun in BC. Things I've learned the hard way: - Never go anywhere without kleenex or the like. EVER. - Hauling it out of bed earlier and having breakfast results in a much better day than sleeping until you nearly miss the bus. - Travel when you have the opportunity. - Don't learn the same lesson twice. More to come, probably. |
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I drift; afloat upon the tides of time and emotion; the waves of my life: a restless sea uneasy and ever shifting beneath me. only glimpses, in sunless moments, reveal the depth; the weight; the darkness, below the surface upon which I ride, balancing so precariously - it beckons, it threatens to overwhelm; to pull me in and under. the instants of shaken resolve and loneliness cast me close to the edge, where I view in dizzying clarity the fathoms-deep despair awaiting and reel back from the drop, the light in me refusing to be extinguished - my saving grace. adrift from all anchorage save for that within myself; I sail on over the deep, endless grey ocean - alone. |
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I'm afraid right now. I don't know what to do. I don't know how I will be alright. I don't want to fall back into misery, but I can feel it pull me. No matter how I try to look at things, it comes back to the fact that I'm alone, unwanted, unwantable. I know in myself I have a huge, shining saving grace. I don't know what it is in nature. But it catches me in the end, always. Or at least prevents me from falling too fast. But I don't want despair. I don't want loneliness and pain. But I'm learning to listen to myself. I'm learning that throwing my affection and my hopes on the first person who catches my eye does not result in me not being lonely. Yes, maybe for almost a week. But not for long enough. I live for the next person who will lift my heart. |
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It bothers me that I don't feel I can write as freely here as I once could. I've already done some damage by forgetting that words (sometimes especially mine) can be very powerful. I don't want to cause anyone pain. But I still want to write. And I like Aeonity a lot, and I don't want to make a new blog. This is where my past is as well. And if I make them all private entries, I'll never receive any reflection by others. So it's frustrating. I suppose I will continue to write cryptically until I can be sure of things. Anyway - my graduation turned out exceedingly well. And as much as I worried and ranted about it, the whole day was exciting and fun and beautiful. I felt beautiful. And confident, and desired. Even days afterwards I floated on this feeling, and even right now (more than a week later) it remains in me. Also, I figured out some stuff. I can't be uninhibited in discussing it here, but it was a pretty nice revelation. I'm hoping yet more good will come of it. It actually kind of frustrates me that I can't write about it... hmmm. I'd like to employ this space for a brief meditation on the birth control pill, and how it does not mix well with me. I realized this in the shower a few minutes ago, but I've been not taking it for about three months now, and I am a lot improved. It did help a lot while I was taking it, because it balanced everything out in my system. But now I'm off it. And suddenly I am happier. My moods are a lot more static and less extreme, making me a lot happier as a whole. My skin is clearer. I'm losing weight again. I eat more regularly, and even sleep more (but I don't think that is directly related. It's probably more as a result of everything else.) So, without delving too deeply into my medical life, I just wanted to point out that sometimes messing around with the human body can make you a lot less happy than leaving it to do its own thing. And with that, I depart. |
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I wish I were wiser. three days later I put away my shoes and my expectations after that I stop looking at all the photographs and when that's done slowly I accept that it's really over. one of these days, I'll learn but until then I'll probably let me down. the dress hangs on the closet door; I expect no more from it. the chaos of good times made irrelevant by the reality I face. I wish there were more to me than wishing my life is one big good intention left unmanifest. |
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I'm supposed to be writing paragraphs on UN peacekeeping missions right now, but I am a mess. If I don't write I will soon fall apart. I can't put these thoughts into any organized or elegant narrative - they must come out, unpolished as they are. In three days I am graduating from high school - but it's more than that. In three days I am marking my departure from the place I have grown up, the school I have attended for twelve years, the people I love and am close to. I am saying goodbye. Well, sorry, but I'm quite abysmal at saying goodbye in general. This is why I am a mess. In my heart, I am ready to leave. In my brain and the parts of me that determine my emotional state, I don't know what my life is like without that place and those people. This is the end of my childhood and adolescence. I'm going to be a basket case. I have been feeling weepy for weeks already. THEN, putting aside the significance, there's the actual event itself. I don't think I have obsessed this much over a single evening in the course of my life. It's getting ridiculous. The thing is, I know it will be fun. But I also know there is no possible way for me to avoid dwelling on the subject of my date during the evening. There really is nothing wrong with my date - except for who he isn't. Believe me, I appreciate the fact that he exists (in the form of my date) at all. It's just that I envisioned my grad very differently. And it hurts. Because it was so important, and now I don't have a clue what it will be like. I don't think aforementioned date likes me very much as a person, which kind of takes the sparkle of possibility off of things, right? Not to mention that my self-esteem has taken a dive recently and I can't actually imagine anyone looking at me in a good way anymore. I wish I was small, quiet, pretty and fun. I'm not. I try hard to love myself, but the main problem there is that my love isn't good enough for me. I need to be loved by other people. I want appreciation so badly. Yes, I am glad to have been asked to go to grad. I don't care too much about what the intent was, but I am fairly sure it was a just-as-friends invite, which is good all things considered. I just wish I could feel beautiful or confident or AT LEAST comfortable, or be attractive for the evening and feel wanted. How is that going? So far, it isn't. I look at myself and I don't see much that is beautiful or that I can feel confident in. I just see that my arms are fat and I can't dance and no one will look twice at me because my personality isn't exactly a beacon. I think this could just be a bad day. I think that earlier in this week I told myself I was happy the way I am. Well, a day of bra shopping is bad for my self-image, for sure. And that scale having been broken hasn't exactly helped. Being "nice" isn't good enough any more. I am through with being wanted around because of my "nice"ness. Once I graduate from Westmount, I will lose everyone that knows me as me. Maybe that means I don't have to be "nice" anymore. Maybe I can be pretty or fun or interesting or creative instead of "nice". The problem there is that I AM "nice". That would be me. I am not especially anything else. My most noticeable quaility is compassion and kindness. I know that is a good thing. I am glad that people recognize it. I just wish that there were some other good reasons to keep me around, you know? Anyway... I'm done, I think. I'm not happy with the scale; it's not aiding me in the battle to love myself. Clarity is most definitively needed. |
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Hey! I just read The Bitch Posse. It was the best read I've had in a long time!! Go out and read it today! SOOO GOOD! Here's the synopsis: These are the confessions of the Bitch Posse. Cherry, Rennie, and Amy were outcasts, rebels, and dreamers. And their friendship was so all-encompassing that some would call it dangerous. This is the story of three women — as seniors in high school and as women in their mid-thirties — who formed a bond in order to survive the pitfalls and perils of their lives. In the present day, one of them is a wife and mother-to-be, trying to live a "normal" life. One of them is a writer who engages in a number of self-destructive relationships. And one of them is in a mental hospital — and has been ever since that one fateful night fifteen years ago, when a heart-wrenching betrayal and the unraveling of relationships led them to a point of no return, where their actions triggered unimaginable consequences. These secrets have torn them apart while inextricably binding them to one another. What happened to them? And can they survive their shared history, even today? The Bitch Posse is an anthem for friendships that defy society's approval or disapproval. It's a novel of secrets, courage, sacrifice, and hope against the odds. It is both a journey back to being a girl on the verge of adulthood, and a journey forward, showing how the events of our past can unearth the best in us today. Dare to jump in. |
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a sanctuary lost. no longer can I stand alone. there is no comfort in solitude. my voice, once the most steadying sound in my world, no longer speaks to me. there is no shelter left for me, nor in me. I seek respite in you. turn me not away. |
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7.17pm I am a terrible, self-centered individual so absorbed in my own emotional twists and turns of drama that I do not heed anyone else's feelings. |