playwright
That's another matter, Brandy Alexander Feb 5th, 2008 9:08:25 pm - Subscribe
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phantasmic
alright now... - Subscribe
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time to be honest with myself here, my rejected feeling isn't just from tonight's "later" but "no" that is all too familiar....i feel this way because of all the "let's hang out"s, the "i miss you"s, the "we should catch up"s, and all the other empty phrases that go unfinished. it's not always the thought that counts. intention isn't always good enough. i want things to be said, and done. not said and left alone. is that so much to ask? maybe it is. i try my hardest to do what i say i'm going to do. i guess i just wish people could do the same for me now and again. yeah this is a lot of silly thought vomit, but maybe it'll allow me to get some sleep if i release this emotional buildup. ha. right. i always bottle it all up. but it never really explodes. more like a pop bottle, i'll fizz over and make a mess, but no real harm done. i need an outlet, something other than this blog. besides, i hardly use it anyway. no point really with no feedback. then again, maybe i don't need the feedback, i tend to sort it all out in my head after a while. would be nice to have someone to speed up the process though. oh well. and oddly enough, the randomly associated mood is just my personality. the boy tells me often enough how i need to lighten up, have some fun.....but how can i when no one seems to want to have fun with me? |
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Need I say I love you Need I say I care Need I say that emotions, Something we dont share I dont want to be sitting here Trying to deceive you Cos you know I know baby That I dont wanna go. We cannot live together We cannot live apart Thats the situation Ive known it from the start Every time that I look at you I can see the future Cos you know I know babe That I dont wanna go. Throwing it all away Throwing it all away Is there nothing that I can say To make you change your mind I watch the world go round and round And see mine turning upside down Youre throwing it all away. Now who will light up the darkness Who will hold your hand Who will find you the answers When you dont understand Why should I have to be the one Who has to convince you Cos you know I know baby That I dont wanna go. Someday youll be sorry Someday when youre free Memories will remind you That our love was meant to be Late at night when you call my name The only sound youll hear Is the sound of your voice calling Calling after me. Just throwing it all away Throwing it all away Theres nothing I can say Were throwing it all away Yes were throwing it all away... |
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Life has changed, drastically i might add. What's happened? Honestly I don't even know. It's weird having just about no girlfriends. None, zip. I have like one who i really talk to. I guess i just don't get along with girls. And it's hard to have guy friends, because well it just is. I've lost my best friend, I know it for sure at this point. She's completely different now at this point anyways. So much for building up relationships and trust. It seems like such a waste now. Now that i've seemed to have lost the most important people in my life. These are the years you look back on. The memories you make in high school.. are not ones i want to remember when I'm older. I don't want to graduate, but I can't wait to leave. I have no idea what I want to do with my life.. I don't want to go to college i really don't. It just feels like it will be highschool all over again. More bullshit. More heartbreak. Waste, a fucking waste. I try to get close with others. Then I just pull away. Farther and farther away I go. Off in oblivion. Take me away. The empty pages of our scrap book kill me. KILL ME. The memories we wont make, the memories we have made and are now nothing. I fucked up. Because of my stressful life I fucked it up. I'm so sick of fucking shit up. i know i making a bunch of mistakes as the days go by. Seriously. I've just made one of the biggest mistakes of my life in the past week. And for what? To feel something? What i would do to feel something. Take me away A million miles away from here Take me away Find a place for you and me You're taking me higher High as I could be Take me away Forever you and me Take me away Fin. |
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playwright
That's another matter, Brandy Alexander Feb 5th, 2008 9:08:25 pm - Subscribe
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| Love, and that's all. |
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playwright
What makes you forgettable Jan 30th, 2008 1:58:02 am - Subscribe
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So yeah, I've thought about you recently. I'm trying to be more careful with my love. Doling out tiny, measured bits to worthy strangers, shedding some feather-sized pieces to lay in the perfect corners nature makes, and saving the rest for myself. Except there's someone captured in my photographic brain that makes me want to free every last bit. I have the feeling that this sudden rush of happy feeling and artistic energy will be sewn and painted and written into new projects and plans, mapped-out dreams brought to fruition by a sudden, nameless motivation. All this wishing and waiting, and we were living in the trees all along. I feel so silly for not realizing it sooner, but then, there were so many veils obscuring my vision, so many hands blurring across my heart before. There's something about 2008. |
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phantasmic
lost Jan 10th, 2008 7:47:26 am - Subscribe
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Sometimes I feel lost. "Don't we all?" you might say. Well, I haven't felt this lost in a loooong time. For one thing, I'm blogging again. Christ. Do you ever feel like your world is being ripped apart for reasons unknown, perhaps the mere reality that the life you have isn't right and fate is trying to correct itself? That's my life at the moment. It sucks. Atypical of my OLD blogs, I'm just rambling off my thoughts rather than trying to be poetic about it. I realized awhile ago that I have trouble doing that, it is not something that comes naturally for me like some. Redirecting my thoughts here....My boyfriend's friend is going military, HUGE impact. Obviously. In addition...the BF is on really good terms with his ex, which makes me nervous because I know he still has feelings for her. In fact he actually admitted that to me a few hours ago. Yes, yes I know he explained it well enough and it's nothing like how I fear it is, but I'm still restless because of it. Just knowing that my "feelings" about things are once again becoming frighteningly accurate (no, it wasn't this event that triggered this thought, but did add to it) is unnerving to say the least. I had a minor anxiety attack today. Haven't had one in a few months I believe. What fun those are. Not. Hm. I suppose that's about it for now. About as "in your face" as I'll ever be. Think I might try to blog more frequently...I feel mildly better. |
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I gave you everything I had to offer. I was your "world", your "everything". We touched and became one. Love at first sight is an understatement. It feels like I'm dying is an understatement. I want everything back. I wish I was never your world. I want to be my own person again. When someone says the words, "You're so beautiful" it's an empty, hallow statement. It means nothing coming from anyone but you. You know me inside and out. You know my true beauty on the inside. It's hard for me to let go of that. It's hard for me to let go of you. |
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playwright
Bad luck Sep 5th, 2007 9:20:54 pm - Subscribe
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Is this a coincidence? I mean, come on. My Magic, Science & Religion course is quickly becoming my favorite class this semester. I had an assignment due yesterday morning which entailed reading three articles, all of them basically about different uses of and ideas about magic. We were also told to bring a magic item to class, a lucky charm or some such thing that we believed held some kind of power. I read two of the articles, and of course forgot to bring in something. Luckily (hahaha), I usually carry St. Christopher around with me, and when I got to class I dug around in my bag and found him in a pocket. Patron saint of safe travel, or as I often fondly call him, patron saint of the lost and weary. So, I got away with not being fully prepared for class. However, my boyfriend hasn't been so lucky these past few days. First, over the weekend, we went to a party at a friend's house, and he played a few rounds of Three Man and became quite intoxicated. Now, I have no problem with that on occasion, because he's not obnoxious or anything like that. However, when we got back to the apartment, something happened that can only be described as terribly unlucky. My boy must've tripped or stumbled over something, and he fell right through a door, headfirst. I swear, it was the loudest thing ever. When I went to check on him, he was passed out on the floor face down, which scared me to death. I turned him over, and after calling his name a few times and patting his face and his chest, he woke up, completely disoriented. He asked me where he was, what was going on, and wouldn't respond to what I said. His eyes rolled back into his head, and he passed out again. At this point I was so upset I didn't know whether to call my mom or my best friend who was still at the party or 911, at the same time thinking that I should probably not leave him alone and that he needed to be awake. He was still confused the second time I woke him up, but a little more certain, and we decided he should get up and lie down on his bed. It was an ordeal getting there, and I was still so nervous that I wasn't sure what to do, and I was pretty sure I should call somebody, and I was almost to the point of tears, and I wanted my mom, but I really didn't want to freak him out and make things worse. So I put ice on his head and I just let him ramble on about how he was going to change the world, he was going to change things, things were going to change. And thank God he didn't pass out again because I already felt so useless for not being able to do anything. For the next few days, he had bad headaches and dizzy spells, and I still kept asking him if he was alright, if he thought he should go to the hospital, et cetera. He seemed to be doing better, so I let him say that he was alright, he didn't want to go, everything would be fine. I drove us to my mom's house to stay overnight, and when I told my mom about it she looked up head injuries in her medical book and said we should take him. When I told him, he said, no, no, I don't need to go, I'm fine. We just let him sleep, and gave him Ibuprofen, and his eyes weren't swelling up or turning purple like he said they would if he had a concussion, so I tried to stop worrying so much, even though that doesn't really work with me. Well, after he woke up from his nap, and before going to sleep for the night, he decided to go for a walk. It was about 12:30 AM. I was taking a bath when he told me he was going out, and I thought nothing of it, he probably just wanted to go out for a smoke and stretch his legs a bit, get some air, whatever. Well, my mom lives in an okay neighborhood, but if you go down the street one way, we're pretty close to a bad neighborhood. The kind you don't go taking walks in at night. Of course my boy goes the wrong way down our street and ends up there. Well, I got a call from him about five minutes before I got out of the tub, and, still thinking nothing of it, I took my time. Well, when I got his message I was just about hysterical with worry, and I started pacing up and down the stairs, all around the house. I even walked outside and then I sat on the step and tried to call him back. He didn't pick up. The message he left was something like, Eva, call me back when you get this, I really need you right now, I can't really talk, call me back please, bye. And I suddenly knew, and I felt so, so, so stupid. We got ahold of each other pretty soon, and he told me what had happened, and all I wanted was to see him and know that he was alright. The first thing he said was I got jumped, then I got beat up pretty bad, then I'm with the police right now. It was a long twenty or so minutes waiting for him to get home. He got punched in the face really hard, glasses bent out of shape, lens missing. For some unknown reason, he had decided to put his wallet in the car before walking, so he still had that, and his phone, which was on the inside of his coat. But the guy stole some money out of his front coat pocket, less than $100, but my boy has money problems as it is, so that's just another bit of the rent or car payment that he has to make up for and can't spend on groceries or gas. He said he had never run faster in his life, and he was surprised that he was able to run that far that fast, because he fills his lungs with tar. It made me feel so sad, not just that this thing happened, or that it happened on top of what had already happened a few nights before, but that it happened to my boyfriend, who has done nothing to really deserve such bad luck, except perhaps getting into a bit of debt, owing other people money, but even that doesn't seem like the type of thing that would cause such disastrous repercussions. He's still going to pay everyone back eventually. I've been taking care of him. I'm just waiting for some miracle to fall in my lap and relieve the stress I've been under. Besides all of these illogical mishaps, I've just started back at school and I'm already behind, I have a lot of work to do for my classes and I've been working a lot. I have a full schedule; I go to school four days and work three. I missed work on Sunday, so my paycheck is going to be weak this Friday, and I really don't want to run out of money again. I've been feeling like I'm running thin, being bled dry again. There's something weird about this time, though, and the time just before that; I know I've changed over the past two months or so, a lot, but I expected myself to have snapped by now, or to have exploded, and I haven't. For some reason, I'm just able to bear up under the strain, now. Everything has gotten easier, or if it hasn't, I've become stronger, or maybe just more adaptable. Whatever it is, I feel like life is so much better now, and I'm glad to be in it, and to have so many people and things that I love surrounding me. So much friendship. No matter how unlucky we can be, we always seem to make it out okay, together. I love that about us. I'm reminded, as I constantly am, of the quotes, "Not all those who wander are lost," and "Still your mind." Everything has got to be okay, eventually. Things have got to sort themselves out somehow. It's going to be hard for a little while, but hopefully, it'll start looking up. I have to believe that, or else I'm just going to curl up and disappear. And that never makes anyone feel better. |
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playwright
Sorry I Aug 29th, 2007 12:12:42 am - Subscribe
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missed your call. x The world is a dangerous place. So many people moving between each other, passing glances and never looking back. So many nameless faces with scraps of sentences attached to their memories, lost among so many others sewn upon the patchwork quilt that is the makeshift file cabinet of my subconscious, stretching out for miles in every direction. Dangerous and lovely. I have a feeling that my eyes are about to be astounded. Some beautiful, inevitable combination of colors will come to them and it will be the most perfect image that I have ever experienced, because behind it there will also be beauty, genuity. Those passing glances turned to smiles, your lips moving to speak. Acquaintances made friends. Things are so much better now. |
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playwright
Sometimes I'm Aug 28th, 2007 3:43:37 am - Subscribe
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the homeless man splayed drunk across the sidewalk, rambling life lessons in some angry new language, inventing stories as if it might stop someone on the street and hold them there, locked in momentary friendship. Spewing emotional bullshit with eyes wet and black, aglisten with the perfect orange of streetlamp glow, claiming to have reached some immaculate conclusion on the subject, but just full of shit. Just full of it, and sometimes I walk the dark streets of these neighborhoods alone, sucking in the night air like a last breath and wishing I could solve your life with the simple brush of hair against skin, or simple words that simply float out of my mouth, or a not-empty wallet. Worrying about worrying about things, too many things, two people who can and can't and will and will, will, will. x  Hello, little girl lost in halos, traipsing through fields of cinnamon and snow, Christmas tree gardens beginning to grow under your little feet, breathing in childhood memory. How many empty hearts will you follow? How many empty bottles will you swallow? The numbers you collect jangle like keys in your pocket, if only you would take them out and spend them on so many waiting doors. Janitor of burdens, let go of your rusting collections piece by ancient piece, quit your job, flee the country. x 
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playwright
Sweetened with pure cane sugar Jul 28th, 2007 10:02:42 pm - Subscribe
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Had I known you were going to holocaust me in a matter of minutes I would have finished that abandoned portrait of our love and filled in all of those tiny spaces with black paint. Instead I slowly turned in that trough of old feeling, thinking, this is leading to me walking off of the edge of a cliff. When I was three years old, and this might have been a dream, my parents took me to a beautiful park and we hiked across the top of a waterfall. We looked down from a tiny perch of jutting rock and I was so afraid to die, but they promised not to let me fall, and I trusted them with my life. Once in high school I burned a wide line of purple on my left arm with an iron. I distinctly recall not reacting fast enough, that moment when I knew I was stupidly causing myself injury, but was unable to immediately stop the cause due to lazy gross motor skills. Today I reacted far quicker, though my wound looks somewhat dire. It fascinates me how I manage to cover myself in angry bruises and puffy red scratches. For every scab or sunken purple mark that gradually fades to a more acceptable color of skin, a new dent appears somewhere. My body could tell stories. You're head over heels, obsessed. I can't take you on, I can't add you to a list of names, I don't want you on my plate, I am lonely, leave me alone. Your company was beautiful until you ruined it, and now I just want to shut you out of all my windows and doors and sleep you away with medicine. Come back to the person that you were. I felt something pure. It stamped its feet on my chest with such volume and shook me, shook me up all frightened and furious and filled my head with fire. And it was ugly, and it was mad, and when it left I felt brutally cleansed or robbed as if that thing which shouted such vulgar poetry inside me had erased a memory, scrubbed some written-upon part of me clean, and the remaining impossibility just lingered like a cloud of ash over the world, stinging my eyes with realization and the inevitable misery that follows. You never showed me that poem that you wrote. |
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playwright
Strawberry water Jul 20th, 2007 10:11:47 pm - Subscribe
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Cars flash by, peeking in through the windows with childlike, wildflower-like eyes. Sugar pours down my throat. My pink brain is coated with laughter soft like an electric blanket, with hazy field people and cold, spilled water. I don't wanna live through winter. I can't stand to see everything ending. Summer covers the water under the bridge in algae. The remnants of life show their bones. A park bench, chairs, a construction sign. Angels walk by and say their hellos. They stare at me, dangling my legs over the edge, sucking on a cigarette, staring down from the middle of nowhere, my favorite place in the universe. Knowing I wasn't going to die. I decided it was a stupid idea. The world collapses and rebuilds itself around me. I can do nothing but watch. |
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playwright
Short stories Jul 12th, 2007 10:16:47 pm - Subscribe
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Where did the storm go? Now, the sky looks kinda blue. We can't decide what kind of weather we want. It's too hot in the attic, but she can't sleep with the fan on. I can't stop putting things in my mouth; I need something to fill it. I'm singing because it's too silent. Everyone is sleeping, or reading books. |
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Yessssssss, life is still amazingly great. Roger Waters today, which will be amazingly great as well. Blog fin. You've changed my life already. |
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playwright
Hah! Jul 12th, 2007 4:05:59 am - Subscribe
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I wrote today. I'm writing. I can write. |
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playwright
It's getting light outside, and things are happening inside of my head Jun 28th, 2007 9:24:13 am - Subscribe
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I've been writing poems. It's something new, because it's been so long. I've finally reached back into something that I used to be, to pull out some fragments of a personality. I stumbled down so many steps, blinded by my silly doubts and tripped over that hidden heart, a place filled with words that I used to know. I found an old path that I loved to follow, a book stashed between walls that details a history most complex and enchanting. To read it is not to relive past moments, but to taste a familiar taste, only now I am able to appreciate the depth and richness of its flavor. A new slant of light hits our subject. Or subjects. I suppose that would be more accurate. We've boarded up this window and created another with our fists, you, and you, and you, and so many yous. And I. It's an army of battling points of view, arguing over each other, shouting and then whispering, creating hymns of scattered harmonies that rise and fall and then suddenly crash, darkening into discordance, shaking my brain with war. These eyes are just opened. The world is fresh and bright and clean and it stabs my pupils like sharp knuckles. But to look away is to fail, for it begs to be described and understood. Alone, it is only what it is, and cannot make itself what it yearns to be. Will I feel this way forever, wanting this so completely, feeling right with the world, though my head aches from such discovery? No, but there is something reassuring in this knowledge. Perhaps its brevity makes it all the more valuable to experience. I know it will slowly vanish, and I will look on, wondering, as it slips into the folds of lost time, leaving only tiny traces of its existence in my mind. I don't mind. |
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playwright
Who knows why Jun 26th, 2007 12:15:27 am - Subscribe
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They say, It must be a brilliant match; I think of striking the match and the immediate crackle of its lighting, the burst of light before it continues to burn. Is that us? I'd like to write poems and poems, I'd like to carve into my walls so many words that they run over each other and begin to blend together until it's just nonsense, so many sentences running together into a great illogical synthesis, and it will mean nothing, because it will mean everything at the same time, twenty-nine contradictions existing in perfect harmony, or disharmony, depending on how you will decide to read it. I think it's funny how you just fall short, by a mere number; just, just. It's another almost added to a list of almosts that stretches on forever into history. I'm falling off the edge. I'm moving toward a revolution, a great sequence of losses and gains. I'm headed toward the Sun, I'll burn up before I get there. I'll run out before I've run the whole way to the other side of the world. I'll run out of steam. But I will go, and it's the going that matters, that's really the point of the thing. Do you see? It doesn't matter. Everything has become forgettable. But I'm still teetering, here. Still waiting for an answer to escape your open lips, unexpected, filled with promise. |
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Into the distance, a ribbon of black. Stretched to the point, of no turning back. A flight of fancy, on a windswept field. Standing alone, my senses reeled. A fatal attraction is holding me fast, How can I escape this irresistible grasp? Can't keep my eyes from the circling sky. Tongue-tied and twisted Just an earth-bound misfit, I. Ice is forming, on the tips of my wings. Unheeded warnings, I thought I thought of everything. No navigator, to guide my way home unladened, empty and turned to stone. A soul in tension that's learning to fly, Condition grounded but determined to try. Can't keep my eyes from the circling skies. Tongue-tied and twisted just an earth-bound misfit, I. Above the planet on a wing and a prayer, My grubby halo, a vapour trail in the empty air. Across the clouds I see my shadow fly, Out of the corner of my watering eye. A dream unthreatened, by the morning light. Could blow this soul right through the roof of the night. There's no sensation to compare with this, Suspended animation, A state of bliss. Can't keep my mind from the circling skies. Tongue-tied and twisted just an earth-bound misfit, I. Life is fantastical. Can't seem to get you off my mind. Blog fin. |
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playwright
Picture in my mailbox Jun 18th, 2007 1:48:35 am - Subscribe
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We might be alike. You're not talking much. I'm full of life. Leaves are filling my mouth, so bitter, so gag-reflex. The moment before death, when everything becomes overwhelmingly vibrant, the catch just before the fall, the corrected misstep. That adrenaline rush, recreating the world, the transition from blurry instability to knowledge, to feeling, to names and shapes. I'm in it. Turning into something. And you. And you. You, you. Would you just. Will you please. I want to ask something of you, but it really must be you asking yourself, to... to. Let go. Yeah, sometimes, I can't speak. Sometimes I hide under blankets, letting myself suffocate, becoming warm with all the wishes I keep under there with me. But I throw them off, I write my fevers away, I carve them into memory, and they will, they will, they will disappear. I will burn them up of my own volition. I can't take yours away. It's a vague thing, this; it's difficult to see everything clearly while in transit. But hear me, please, hear this, through the noise of traffic and look past the dizzy display of lights, the stretching lines, just understand. There's a melody out in the world, just playing over and over, quiet and clandestine, but you can hear it underneath the racket of everyday, and it's beautiful. And I am in love. With the way the world ripens and blooms and bursts open, the velocity with which people will move, strangers becoming friends, friends, ohhhhhhhhhhh, everythinggggggg. How the yous change and blend. How the days just keep ending, again and again, on good notes, or, perhaps, bad notes, and no matter what happens, I can't keep from smiling. Wave goodbye. Make it a happy ending. Say hello, take my hand, let's go, let go. We'll never sleep, we'll never be alone. All that light inside, all that hope! It just beams. We all glow. Keep your eyes open! Get outside! Love. |
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Almost, anyways. I start work this week. Oh joy? I'm not oo sure yet. I find myself falling harder and faster. And I think he feels the same way. It makes me nervous. He's different. He's definitely the nicest guy I've hung out with... probably ever to be honest. This time it feels different. Haha, I say this like everytime.. but seriously a guy has never been like this with me. So friday night, I went to a party. And had a couple drunk guys who were 19 hit on me. Myself, being only a little buzzed, was pretty much appalled.. it was like.. the most irritating thing ever. Luckely a couple good guys helped me out, which I'm very thankful for. I guess not all guys are ass's. =) Well, I need all the luck I can get for exams... That's about all that's really on my mind lately, sad I know. Haha. Blog fin. |