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imaginary endings and battles. - Subscribe

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.

0 Comments
Mood: shutting down.

tron all hail the shiny May 31st, 2008 12:02:42 pm - Subscribe

When did dressing like a slut get glamorous? There's a few questions on my mind that I'd like the general public, or society as a whole to answer for me. This is the first of them.

If you put on something skimpy from an op-shop or something that's hand me down no matter how good condition its in, you're trashy. If you buy the same kind of thing new, and cover it in diamonties than your classy? Well maybe its not that simple. You do have to slick your hair down and make sure you're clean, and there's a certain implied elegance in 'class' but essentially, you're either all hanging out there, or 'creating the illusion' of all hanging out there, and realistically isn't that one of the trashiest things you can do?

Firstly, that last sentence was far too long. Secondly, its wrong to judge, out loud. People don't like to feel like they're being judged, but we all do it. We rely on the external appearances of others to make those split second judgements about how much value they might be to us. We are, after all, social capitalists. We all are, regardless of your economic viewpoint. But this is beyond my original point.

My point was about class, and the seeming lack of it when all your body parts are on display. I sometimes think that animals have it much easier when it comes to appearance, but whatever, that's another post.

So back to class. I guess its all about the presentation of a message. See, to me, looking beautiful without the perfect body, without the mint of money, that's something. Its easy to 'scrub up nice' if you never get dirty. For me, I like those hard won battles. And I don't like diamonties. There's something a little bit trivial about overtly worshipping those 'shiny things'.

I guess what I'm trying to say amongst this very tired prattle, is that its the messages that are hard won that count. Its the person who took the effort to say what they wanted without compromising that impresses me.

Anything can live up to this high ideal of mine: art, music, dance, drama, literature, conversation... taking the time to get the message out there without using cheap tricks will always seem more classy, elegant, sophisticated to me than all the diamonties, or even diamonds real or metaphorical you can dish up...

Tron

0 Comments
Mood: spectacular

end-of solitude. May 23rd, 2008 2:42:51 am - Subscribe

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.

1 Comments
Mood: stressed.

tron break my heart again, for old times sake. May 22nd, 2008 11:17:44 am - Subscribe

Every time I sit down to write something here I come up against a wall. It is made of reasons not to write, reasons to just walk away from this...

the foundation is a loyalty to paper, and a fear of readers. Its a judgement avoidance. It is cemented to the next layer by a conviction that I have nothing to say. The next layer is the certainty that the whole exercise is futile... wasteful of so many things... time, energy, thoughts, little pieces of myself so optimistically cast into the world and lost in the swamp of other people's needs... need to be recognised, need to be loved.

the wall builds itself up higher and higher with layers of failed attempts... and is decorated by my own self scorn and my distaste for the process.

The wall protects me from you all... and traps me within myself.

there is so much to say. and no reason at all to say it to anyone. I am utterly convinced that no one is listening. I am utterly convinced that the exercise of opening up to others does little more than push them away further from me in the times when I need them the most.

I am tired of listening.
I am tired of not listening.
I am afraid of not hearing
I am terrified of not being heard.

There came a point when, without the structured inescapable environments to pressured people closer and closer through their shared captivity, I realised that I had lost the capacity to connect in meaningful ways to those around me.

I am ready again to trust someone, completely, but how do I find that someone? How do I reach out and find someone who would not see me as a burden? I need that person with the right mix of empathy and understanding, interest and forgiveness, similar experiences, and self resolve... the right person... someone to be very close to and share with. I am ready for a new friendship. I am ready to nourish and be nourished... but I am behind so many walls.

How do you reach out to people?

This seems like a first step.

2 Comments
Mood: wonderful

imaginary selfish. May 21st, 2008 1:42:19 am - Subscribe

7.17pm

Unfortunately, I find I am no longer able to mask the truth of my own selfishness.
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.

How did I get this way?

The problem is not that I want everything I keep for myself. I don't think I am really greedy. However, I can't let things go. I am afraid to have nothing left; to be entirely alone and unwanted - so I keep what I can as long as possible. If I'm holding onto three different threads at once, it doesn't matter as much if one or even two get pulled out of my grasp, right? Chances are, all three won't be lost at once.

But if I let the other two go of my own will and then lose the last one anyway, I won't have anything to hold onto.

What makes me a horrible human being is that knowing it isn't enough to motivate me to take less.

What is wrong with me?

1 Comments
Mood: worn down.

imaginary Thoughts on my writing. May 19th, 2008 4:49:53 am - Subscribe

7.56pm

I make resolutions a lot. Is that normal? Sometimes I manage to fulfill them, but more often than not I end up where I started.

Keeping my room clean, for instance. Not going as well as I had hoped.

I have an inkling that maintenance just isn't my strength. Creativity is, but without the wherewithal to keep things going it never amounts to much. If it did, I would be surrounded by successful projects of my own design and undertaking, polished and completed.

8.05pm

I'm not. I'm surrounded by clutter and intentions. Oh, God. I'm an idea man.

8.14pm

I have a strange aversion to turning on electric lights indoors when there is still natural light to be had. I do it if I have to, but generally prefer to ruin my eyesight trying to read in half-light coming through a window. It's usually not a conscious decision. Maybe it would discourage the sun from shining. Or, perhaps, cause me not to notice the fading of the evening light.

10.06pm

When I write for myself, I write beautiful uninhibited things. When I write for public posting, everything is inane; contrived; controlled; devoid of feeling and expression.

When I write for myself and display the result publicly, all hell seems to break loose. People are often paying much closer attention than I realize - there is more perception than I bank on and explanations are due.

I forget that in my hands; in my thoughts - in my writing - words are powerful and dangerous. They are my weapon and one that I am well accustomed to using for ends both right and wrong.

I forget that the power of the written word is not only effective on their writer. However intoxicated I can become in the expression of these things, I should exercise more thought and judgment.

I write beautiful things - things that I am proud of - and place each one in prominence, to be found with only the slightest desire, but these are not what catch the attention of those whose contemplation I seek. Instead, the storms - the dark, unhappy uprisings of emotion - and the fires are what I am judged by and questioned of.

I resent it. Whole worlds I could create you out of language, full of the lovely and profound and intricate patterns that are at my disposal, but I doubt you would care to take a look deep enough to fall in. I could open flood-gates of feelings and render them as real as the sensations of your skin if you'd only consider the works I put forward to you.

You refuse to be drawn in. Words, my greatest weapon, are useless onward from the point where your eyes transfer them from the page to your mind.

Without the reader they are impotent, but are equally insignificant once within.

I repeatedly get the sense that the pen, however great, is not mightier than the sword and that I am fighting a losing battle with outdated artillery.

10.39pm

That is how I need to write more often on here. That's the variety of writing that feels the best.

0 Comments
Mood: placid.
Song:: I'll Keep Your Memory Vague - Finger Eleven

imaginary Minor revelation. May 19th, 2008 12:25:52 am - Subscribe

Wow.

So it has now been more than a year since I last posted anything here. I'm not exactly sure why.

I read over my old entries.
Important things I realized as a product of this:
- Times change.
- I changed.
- I write very differently when I write for an imagined reader.
- But in spite of it all, I still write. Even now. Even after all these changes.
- It's been a long time since I let myself be free in my writing, because I expect too much. I miss my poems and lists; my quotes, song lyrics, rants, photos and rambles. I miss writing for its own sake.

Unimportant things I realized:
- If I'm unstable now, I was practically bipolar before. I'm considerably better now.
- I have learned a lot; gained and lost a lot.
- I'm ashamed to say that I winced a few times over what I used to write about. But that was then.

The only surprising thing I realized:
- I grew up. Apparently sometime between now and last April.

So I'm back, because I enjoy writing. I have a lot to say right off the bat, but I might let it settle out and come back later instead.

0 Comments
Mood: relaxed.

end-of city lullaby. May 12th, 2008 4:48:33 am - Subscribe

(inhale)
tires on asphalt
(exhale)
wind through leaves

night pulse
try to be still
calm the sounds
echoing streets

night breathes
and sings to me
the city's lullaby
my heartbeat

(breathe in)
traffic slows
(breathe out)
darkness claims

0 Comments
Mood: insomniac.

end-of relative escapism. Apr 29th, 2008 2:43:08 am - Subscribe

a sad condition:

I hide
to hold out

into each
singular constant

I dive,
to drown

I dive
to be saved

I disappear
to end it all

and to make you
notice I am gone.

but if any do,
none speak -

so I dive
edge over edge

hoping you will
witness my fall

catch me before
impact.

a sad condition indeed.

1 Comments
Mood: detaching at various seams.

end-of no words. Apr 20th, 2008 12:51:31 am - Subscribe

I am
sorrowful
because

you are so
beautiful
but

I have
no words
left for you

my eyes,
sick with grace
and fairness,

long for the
plain and
ordinary

there are
no love songs
left in me

you will
fade away
in silence.

0 Comments
Mood: untouchable.

tron change of scene Apr 17th, 2008 10:35:40 am - Subscribe

paper is working well for me.

begun therapy.

don't worry if you don't hear too much, i'm just very busy, very tired, and paper works better.

tron

1 Comments
Mood: chaotic

end-of wake. Apr 13th, 2008 11:45:19 pm - Subscribe

this is
my life.

you
were a dream.

I hated
waking
from you.

I breathe;
I move.

but sleep
eludes me.

and all
my beautiful words
desert me.

0 Comments
Mood: here.

tron whine whine whine Apr 12th, 2008 7:53:36 am - Subscribe

So I've had a pretty shit run of late. There's been some huge fucking nightmare at the school I was working at for practicum (first prac out mind you) where I was handed from teacher to teacher and in the end without following proper procedure they tried to fail me. The school... well I'm just not happy.

Yet we live and we learn. I had such a miserable time this prac that I can't imagine myself doing this job anymore. Everyone around me is either sick of hearing me whine or they think that its better for me not to talk about it. Either way I feel like arse.

It strikes me that my entire personality might be wrong for this profession. Its not the teaching kids I can't handle, its the colleagues. I'm sure there are nicer teachers out there, but really, if there are more like this, I certainly don't want to run into them.

To compound things, my holiday to Melbourne is off. Kaput. And this is final. There was no way *** could get the time off work, so we can't go. And frankly, we really need some time to ourselves asap. We've barely seen each other for two weeks or more. Our schedules keep us apart. I know I'm pretty much a wreck, and I'm sure he's pretty rooted too when it comes to mental fatigue. Time away just the two of us would be really nice.

So apparently, there will be another holiday in a couple of months. And right now I just see that as another opportunity for disappointment. I'm feeling pretty negative.

So at the moment, I've got to finish assignments, while living in limbo because someone decided I'm not good enough. I refuse to accept that. I cannot concede that I was so terrible that I might deserve to fail!!!

I'm just fucking sick of everything at the moment. No Holiday, no certainty about my degree. I feel like I may as well pack it all in now. I can't see my personality changing and I'm not a people person. I'm not mentally drawn/ interest drawn to the jobs/professions that allow you to work without other people around me.

I just want to go and do something else, and soon.

Fuck it all.
Tron

0 Comments
Mood: salty

tron my kingdom for a font! Apr 2nd, 2008 11:40:13 am - Subscribe

So its getting ever closer to the time when my eyelids will win the battle with coffee and demand some down time. It’s the end of another long day. Its seriously full on. Prac that is. For those not familiar with the routine, I’m training/studying to be a teacher so I get plopped onto someone else’s class, right at the end of the school term, to watch and teach lessons which have no continuity within the teaching and learning of the students.

I get to watch with amazed horror the difference between classroom practice and all the theories they bang on about in the hallowed halls of the university. I spend some time learning the few things that it will take the uni two or more years to integrate into my life (or so they think) and then I walk away disappointed that my taxes will pay people in the future to do more of this shitty teaching.

I’m up to my fucking ears in a world of “do as we say not as we do” and “don’t do that, do what I do!” and “don’t do what he does, he’s a moron” politics and policies that don’t really get implemented and a supervising teacher that doesn’t really know much more about what’s going on than I do. Or, rather, knows exactly what’s going on and prepares much the same way I do.

Its my main rant for the moment.

Life cruises on in my happy, control freak environment. I take charge and things get done. I believe in the power of myself to do things and hang everyone else. No that’s a lie. I’m not that jaded yet. You might say I’m exhibiting some kind of zen balance, despite the long LONG days and the hours of prep and resource work.

I can’t wait to sleep in on the weekend. So help the sparrow that farts before I wake up.

So life cruises, and posts are few and far between. Reflection. Reflection is the key to improvement. I can see that the eyelids are starting to get the brain onside in the aforementioned battle… fuck. Well it might be a good place to stop.

A foundation script free font, I’d give my kingdom for it. That and some realism in uni.

G’night all.
Tron

0 Comments
Mood: drowsy
Song:: today was better than yesterday which was better than the day before.

end-of goodbye. Mar 29th, 2008 4:13:07 am - Subscribe

you
are too
beautiful

to say
goodbye
to.

wait
for me, and
miss me,
darling,

because
I am
always

coming back.

0 Comments
Mood: returning.

fiona And I am back! Mar 13th, 2008 2:17:03 am - Subscribe

Every once in awhile I will get an email at my old address informing me that there is a friend I have here who has made a post. I am always amazed they still remember to send me these notices. I have come back today with some new ideas, but first I wanted to see if this journal were still here, as it says admin will delete any not updated within a reasonable amount of time. I am glad they did not delete this one. I always think of all my sites around the INTERWEBS as my wee children, and I hate it if anything bad befalls them. They are not to blame that I am an errant parent. :/

I hope everyone is doing well.

0 Comments
Mood: sweet

end-of off the deep end. Mar 7th, 2008 4:41:11 am - Subscribe

I fear this beautiful thing
has been scarred
by desire.

your depths beckon.
heedless of peril, I smile -
and in; down, down, I dive.

we die
younger
every day.

invincible -
clocks running
backwards to save us.

and your cool waters
so inviting,
ready to pull me in.

I drink not
for fear
that I should drown.

and as your tide calls,
I resist throwing myself
from the rocks -

this time -
I will make you
come to me.

I will wait for the rain
to feel you on my skin
instead of diving in.

1 Comments
Mood: wary but hopeful.

tron late night ramblings. Mar 2nd, 2008 12:21:40 pm - Subscribe

Several times I've thought I had something important, relevant, cross contextually mesmerising to say. Only, then I make the mistake of becoming so distracted I forget what it is that the world so desperately needs to hear and so conclude that it wasn't very important to begin with.

But now I'm so overwhelmingly full of words that some must dribble over the lip of my brain through my fingers via running nerve impulses and land inevitably here in this great opus of mine.

An opus, admittedly, of long sentences.

But to hell with efficient word use tonight.

The pressure in my head is already starting to dim and fade. I'm becoming aware of a coldness on my face where my breath hits my top lip after exiting my nose. Suddenly there's more around me than the imperative to spill.

Is it the slow steady rush of my breath?

Is it an inescapable fatigue in my body that is bringing the mental rush to its night time hiatus?

It is certainly going to be a combination of these things. But I can't sleep yet. There is more to be done!

There is more tidying, and more preparing, more reading. I have not been nearly as efficient and productive over the last few days as I would like, and I'm not going to let this ethic slide. And this resolve is despite the little niggles that creep into my brain telling me that the task at hand is too big. Quit now, save yourself some disappointment. Save yourself wasted effort. Isn't that after all the most efficient choice you can make.

I can't wait for therapy to start
I need therapy to start
Is there time for therapy in my schedule?
What if they have forgotten me?
What if they haven't forgotten me...

Am I really better enough to go it alone?

This isn't the time for these kind of questions of self. Its just a late night tired rambling to get the monkeys off my back...

I adore Tom Waits.
I need a cigarette more than i need both legs...

"I like my town with a little drop of poison"
me too tom, me too.

1 Comments
Mood: disappointed with myself, but stubborn.

end-of I stubbornly refuse. Feb 25th, 2008 3:33:42 am - Subscribe

Forget me, life:
I'm not worth living.
I refuse to accept
the motions of time.

The hands of the clock
go round still, ticking;
but here inside me
shadows are motionless.

Forget me, world,
'cause I'm not moving.
I won't follow you
down into the dark.

You go on without me -
out into the endless
field of continuum -
and I'll just stay here.

Forget me, time.
I will not limp forward.
More pain in the finite
than I can contain.

In loving and in living;
in losing and letting go -
in death, ressurection:
indefinite agony. So I won't.

So forget me.

1 Comments
Mood: fed up.

end-of undesired. Feb 22nd, 2008 4:42:50 am - Subscribe

undesired.
I struggle
against it
my battle
unmarked
unwanted
by you
falling apart
at the seams,
undesired
the very thread
of my being
unwound;
unspoken -
unwanted
cast out.

you confuse
aiming
to amuse
yourself and
conspire
to tire -
make me feel
undesired
I won't bite now
won't play
games never
make you stay -
from worlds away,
I appeal,
an unsealed deal
waiting for you
to sign or
repeal.
until you give me all -
your safety net,
collecting dust -
I await the fall.

0 Comments
Mood: exhausted. Seriously.