Dear ************
I miss you. I miss you on days that end with "y" where I don't get to hear your voice. I miss you on the days that I sleep, knowing you're working and by the time I get up, you'll be asleep. I miss the sound of your voice after not hearing it for a few days.
I'm scared.
I'm scared about the way that I might feel about you because somewhere in my heart, I'm still that girl that you knew all those years ago that fell in love with you. I'm scared to tell everyone in my life how great you are... because one day you're gonna kill me. How do I know?
Because.. of her.
She's like your kyptonite. Your very own brand of heroine.. and you can't stop. Like an addict, all of these years, you won't tell me when she come sweeping back in, but I know. I know the little things you tell me you're up to, are for her. I know that the times where you can't, or won't give me attention, its because she needs you. I know that she'll do and say all the things that you want, only to break you every so often.
I know these things, because you do them to me.
I'm afraid of how much it hurts, when I know the hurt is coming. And these are just little doses. Little pangs of wanting to be the one that you'll look at with such love and adoration. The twitches of old scars that still sting when she hurts you and you come running to me. I'm afraid to see your face again because you'll be the same... and I'll wanna be that girl.
I'll fall again.
One smile from your lips. A look from your eyes.. and I'll be lost. My stomach will twist, my breath will hold, you'll move in for a kiss, and I won't stop you. And then, Nothing. My world will change again, all over again. You'll have done it to me again. But is it worth it? Does the risk of loss justify the possible gain?
See, its easy now. We're in grey. Great friends, flirty lovers.. but from this distance, I never have to be exclusive, I never have to confess all of these fears and I never have to confess all of this love. But think about it, after all of these years, who's the one person you haven't grown tired of? Who's the one person that's always there? Who would drop anything, and everything if you needed someone? No.. you never asked for those things, but I gave them. I gave them freely because I loved you... because I still do.
But if I never see you again... I never have to make that choice. I never have to be without you.. but even that, has its disadvantages. Even that risks something.
So which is it? Sometimes I ask myself this question. Am I here because you want me? Or do you only want me because I'm here? Pretty pathetic huh? Waiting around just to hold onto something that is only ever the blurred grey area of what we have?
But living blurred in this monochrome monotony is better than death.. right? ...
...
...
...
Right?
Friday, July 9, 2010
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
How many times have I started this? Too many to count.. But I suppose its time. I find it somehow disheartening that I've fallen so far from my goal to actually write this blog. The truth is that when it comes to my blogging, I generally don't wanna do it if I don't have something to say. It just seems like the things I have to say are sometimes so wholeheartedly despressing that I can't help but feel like I'm a broken record.
I guess I try to write about things that are significant, things that matter to my readers. I reveal some insight about myself in hopes of not only putting out in the universe that this is who I am, but these are things that happen and things that hopefully people learn from. The truth hurts, and sometimes its brutal in its pain. Its a honesty that either makes one bitter, or makes one a better person. I would hope, the most for the latter. Here we go....
I'm a Twilight Fangirl... Now, save your shit talking till I'm done.. I'm a fangirl.. I'm not some silly little tweeny girl that loudly trumpets for Team Jacob or Team Edward.. and sometimes I'm so annoyed by Stephanie Meyer's transparency of her characters that I stop reading the books all together. I, sometimes, hate the characters (Bella Especially) so damn much that I can't even stand to think about the series. I laugh at all the lameness of the movies and the books and I make very little attempt to champion Stephanie Meyer or the way that she absolutely screwed the Vampire/Werewolf genre.
I'm honest enough to admit that the books are nothing more than an incredibly trashy romance novel. However, its my trashy romance novel. For those that know me, I'm not really a girl. I'm not a girly girl and sometimes I'm actually the very opposite of said girl. Even I, however, have my moments. This would be these moments.
Its not for Bella, its not even for Edward, or their mostly trashy romance story. I honestly find myself eager to sit in a theater for almost 12hrs because visually speaking, the Movies are appealing and because sometimes, I find myself identifying with Jacob so wholeheartedly that last night, while sitting in the theater, watching the Midnight showing of Eclipse, I cried at least twice.
Jacob is a pompus jackass bastard sometimes through the book series, but what's real about Jacob, what I find to be the appeal of the character is the fact that I know how his heart bleeds. Its never something that I have indentified with in any other series. I think that the one thing that was written well was Jacob. While at times I found his methods of trying to win Bella over deplorable, I can't argue that in the very desperations of persuit of the ones that you feel love over that I wouldn't do something similar.
Jacob believed, with his entire being, that Bella was his soul mate, and I don't think he was wrong. I think that had Bella stayed human, Jacob was the only natural choice. BUT! Back to my original point... I've felt for Jacob so deeply.
I've been that 'other' person. Sometimes, I believe I still am. I know, all too well, how it is to love someone, to know you're good for them.. to have them say as much and then for them to walk away from you. I'm no saint. Often times, you'll find that I call myself the worst person in the world. But do I deserve the pain I cart around? Did Jacob? ...When you love someone, to the very depths of your soul.. When it comes down to every other person being just a shallow mirror image of that one person that was absolute perfection.
If you love something let it go.. but what are you left with when what you've let go, refuses to let you go? It's a cruel game.. and because of that, I cried for Jacob.
I guess I try to write about things that are significant, things that matter to my readers. I reveal some insight about myself in hopes of not only putting out in the universe that this is who I am, but these are things that happen and things that hopefully people learn from. The truth hurts, and sometimes its brutal in its pain. Its a honesty that either makes one bitter, or makes one a better person. I would hope, the most for the latter. Here we go....
I'm a Twilight Fangirl... Now, save your shit talking till I'm done.. I'm a fangirl.. I'm not some silly little tweeny girl that loudly trumpets for Team Jacob or Team Edward.. and sometimes I'm so annoyed by Stephanie Meyer's transparency of her characters that I stop reading the books all together. I, sometimes, hate the characters (Bella Especially) so damn much that I can't even stand to think about the series. I laugh at all the lameness of the movies and the books and I make very little attempt to champion Stephanie Meyer or the way that she absolutely screwed the Vampire/Werewolf genre.
I'm honest enough to admit that the books are nothing more than an incredibly trashy romance novel. However, its my trashy romance novel. For those that know me, I'm not really a girl. I'm not a girly girl and sometimes I'm actually the very opposite of said girl. Even I, however, have my moments. This would be these moments.
Its not for Bella, its not even for Edward, or their mostly trashy romance story. I honestly find myself eager to sit in a theater for almost 12hrs because visually speaking, the Movies are appealing and because sometimes, I find myself identifying with Jacob so wholeheartedly that last night, while sitting in the theater, watching the Midnight showing of Eclipse, I cried at least twice.
Jacob is a pompus jackass bastard sometimes through the book series, but what's real about Jacob, what I find to be the appeal of the character is the fact that I know how his heart bleeds. Its never something that I have indentified with in any other series. I think that the one thing that was written well was Jacob. While at times I found his methods of trying to win Bella over deplorable, I can't argue that in the very desperations of persuit of the ones that you feel love over that I wouldn't do something similar.
Jacob believed, with his entire being, that Bella was his soul mate, and I don't think he was wrong. I think that had Bella stayed human, Jacob was the only natural choice. BUT! Back to my original point... I've felt for Jacob so deeply.
I've been that 'other' person. Sometimes, I believe I still am. I know, all too well, how it is to love someone, to know you're good for them.. to have them say as much and then for them to walk away from you. I'm no saint. Often times, you'll find that I call myself the worst person in the world. But do I deserve the pain I cart around? Did Jacob? ...When you love someone, to the very depths of your soul.. When it comes down to every other person being just a shallow mirror image of that one person that was absolute perfection.
If you love something let it go.. but what are you left with when what you've let go, refuses to let you go? It's a cruel game.. and because of that, I cried for Jacob.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Sometimes I wish I could lose you again
Obviously, I'm supposed to be sleeping. I'm not. For hours now since my cousin asked, I've been craving the written word. I feel like I've been holding some unspoken feeling in the back of my throat. I get these feelings often. I've probably complained about them enough to actually be secure in the fact that I've been choking for a good long while.
Originally, I wasn't gonna blog without Gail. We had an idea for our next ones, but I'm holding onto some sort of complicated feeling. I feel like everything in my life amounts to nothing. And I think its true. I think I live for appearances. Like a drug addict, I'm just chasing a feeling and destroying myself in the process to find it.
Let me elaborate. This stems back from a conversation I had a long while ago with a friend of mine that had a really bad meth problem. Before I get back ontrack, let me side track to her. I'll abstain from her name, but I will say that she is my hero. Honestly and truly, she's one of the few women that I can look at and be honored to know her. This woman used to be a Meth Addict. From what she's told me, she was pretty bad too. What makes her my hero isn't the fact that she just overcame her addiction. A lot of people have them in this day in age. What makes her my hero is that I can look at her and absolutely know in the depth of my soul, that she will never again go back to that demon. Its not just her strength, not just her will that I admire in her, but its the grace and love that she still lives her life with.
Addicts, somewhere along the line, lose themselves, their dignity and their soul to whatever it is that drags them down. They become the shell of what used to be a functional person. Maybe she did get that far and lose that much of herself, but looking at her today, you'd never know it. She's strong and independent. She lives, works and breathes for herself, but I think more so, somewhere along the line of her addiction and her recovery, she remembered how to love herself. That's something not even functional people can do. I know that I can't... but I think that's why she's my hero.. because some day, I hope to be able to love myself the way that she loves herself. Thank you, Ames (Nickname).
Back on track! An addict only becomes an addict because they're chasing that first high. I find this to be a true enough statement because that first high, that's the best high you've ever had. Its that initial feeling of elation of something new, something different, something that makes you feel not like you. Its the very paramount of what you could ever feel off of that substance and every other high is going to pale in comparison. An addict continues their addiction, and their addiction escalates because somewhere in their mind, they're chasing down that feeling again. They want that absolute paramount of feeling that they had achieved at one time off of this substance, but what they cannot understand is they can never get that back.
I use this reference because I'm chasing a feeling inside of me. I remember what it was like to be happy. I remember what it was like to know safety and comfort for longer than a moment, a few weeks. I remember what it was like to simply love... Now.. my life is meant only to chase down that feeling again. Like an addict increasing their dosage to try and hit that euphoria... I find myself desperate to find that right amount of passion in my system. That new feeling that would make me feel like I could fly.
I fear that THAT feeling... is long since dead. And that soon, I'll just burn out in a blaze. I feel like I've been reduced to embers subtly crackling away on the last bits of oxygen and tinder.. only to be left forgotten, to burn up, and out.
Complicated feeling, like I've said. Now though, I think I've set enough out there for the universe to chew on. Somewhere in my heart of hearts, I love you all. Always know that
-Mous
Originally, I wasn't gonna blog without Gail. We had an idea for our next ones, but I'm holding onto some sort of complicated feeling. I feel like everything in my life amounts to nothing. And I think its true. I think I live for appearances. Like a drug addict, I'm just chasing a feeling and destroying myself in the process to find it.
Let me elaborate. This stems back from a conversation I had a long while ago with a friend of mine that had a really bad meth problem. Before I get back ontrack, let me side track to her. I'll abstain from her name, but I will say that she is my hero. Honestly and truly, she's one of the few women that I can look at and be honored to know her. This woman used to be a Meth Addict. From what she's told me, she was pretty bad too. What makes her my hero isn't the fact that she just overcame her addiction. A lot of people have them in this day in age. What makes her my hero is that I can look at her and absolutely know in the depth of my soul, that she will never again go back to that demon. Its not just her strength, not just her will that I admire in her, but its the grace and love that she still lives her life with.
Addicts, somewhere along the line, lose themselves, their dignity and their soul to whatever it is that drags them down. They become the shell of what used to be a functional person. Maybe she did get that far and lose that much of herself, but looking at her today, you'd never know it. She's strong and independent. She lives, works and breathes for herself, but I think more so, somewhere along the line of her addiction and her recovery, she remembered how to love herself. That's something not even functional people can do. I know that I can't... but I think that's why she's my hero.. because some day, I hope to be able to love myself the way that she loves herself. Thank you, Ames (Nickname).
Back on track! An addict only becomes an addict because they're chasing that first high. I find this to be a true enough statement because that first high, that's the best high you've ever had. Its that initial feeling of elation of something new, something different, something that makes you feel not like you. Its the very paramount of what you could ever feel off of that substance and every other high is going to pale in comparison. An addict continues their addiction, and their addiction escalates because somewhere in their mind, they're chasing down that feeling again. They want that absolute paramount of feeling that they had achieved at one time off of this substance, but what they cannot understand is they can never get that back.
I use this reference because I'm chasing a feeling inside of me. I remember what it was like to be happy. I remember what it was like to know safety and comfort for longer than a moment, a few weeks. I remember what it was like to simply love... Now.. my life is meant only to chase down that feeling again. Like an addict increasing their dosage to try and hit that euphoria... I find myself desperate to find that right amount of passion in my system. That new feeling that would make me feel like I could fly.
I fear that THAT feeling... is long since dead. And that soon, I'll just burn out in a blaze. I feel like I've been reduced to embers subtly crackling away on the last bits of oxygen and tinder.. only to be left forgotten, to burn up, and out.
Complicated feeling, like I've said. Now though, I think I've set enough out there for the universe to chew on. Somewhere in my heart of hearts, I love you all. Always know that
-Mous
Thursday, May 6, 2010
She took the Midnight Train goin' anywhere.
Welcome back! So its been a while since I sat down and wrote out a blog. Tragic I know! But the deal was, with Gail.. my other cohort in the “Gsquad” here at work.. that we would blog when we worked together. Apparently this means once a week. Exciting no!? So since I picked such an awesomely deep topic, it was Nehnay’s turn and I think she’s matched me for the week… So without further ado.. here we go…
Three pieces of advice you’d give your high school self. In honestly, this was actually was really hard for me. Since a lot of high school I spent running away from a lot of things, I think there were few enough times I had to stop myself and regret what I was doing. Looking back, there were probably a lot of places where I would have liked that pause button and some advice.
Tell him the truth, before it was too late. He’ll never read this blog. Never. But there was a point in time where I was hopelessly in love with someone I was spending a whole lot of time with my Sophomore year of high school. He wasn’t the most ideal person in the world but he had a great personality, he had an even better heart. He was everything that I could have wanted out of a guy. He made me laugh, he was attentive. Hell he knew I crushed on him so hard before I’d even said anything, but by the time I worked up the courage, it was beyond too late. I had fallen somewhere in the ‘best friend’ category. Somewhere in the “No Fly Zone” and while we had remained close, my chance to make him happy, to love him more than just that, had gone far, far away. I think my life would have been a shit ton different if I had just said something back then. Back when he really was mine. Sure years down the road he admitted that he had crushed on me as well, but he wanted something more solid than just that sort of high school puppy dog crush. I suppose he found it too. Now he has a wife, had a kid with her in high school. From here, he seems reasonably happy. I just wish I hadn’t missed that boat, wherever it had led to.
Be honest about your problems: ..I think that a whole lot of my masochistic phase that I have now as an adult is because back then, I wasn’t honest about my problems. I took all of that pain that I felt, all of that pressure and angst and I internalized it. I took a lot of that in and bottled it up. More so, I took all of that and I used it to made myself smaller, feel more insignificant, and I hurt myself so deeply with it. I think if I felt like there was someone I could be honest with, someone I could talk to then maybe it would have saved me. I was so fixed on being everything that was ‘okay’ that I couldn’t see that there were people there all the time that were worried about me. I was so interested in the mask that I put up that I didn’t see what it was in front of me. I didn’t see that I didn’t have to be that way, that I didn’t have to hurt myself. I think hearing that, knowing that someone knew there was something wrong inside of me, that I was lying,.. It might have stopped me from hurting myself in ways that I never thought possible, even now.
Its okay.. no matter what happens, its okay: I spent a lot of time freaking out about things. Grades, friends.. my parents. I never really stopped to believe that it was all going to be okay. I spent a lot of emotional pain on freaking out. I think just knowing somewhere that someone knew it was gonna be okay and hearing that. I think I would have smiled more. Its that knowledge of the future, that security that somewhere someone knew that it was gonna work out. My parents got divorced. Its okay. My friends were Gay, it was okay. My life felt like it was going to suck, but its okay. I think that more than anything would have lifted a whole lot off of my chest.
I’m sure there are other things around that I would have told myself. “Watch out for the slidding glass door” “It’s a mistake not to stick to college” “Watch out for that second one”… but none of those pale in comparison to those three lessons up there. Those three I think would have changed things drastically. In the end, better or worse, I’m me. Every step I’ve taken on this path has led me right where I am (Sitting next to Gail for an hour of my day). And if changing any of that meant that I wouldn’t wind up right back here, I don’t think I could change it.
I may not always like where I am in my life. Sometimes, I may down right hate myself, but I wouldn’t trade me for the world.
Three pieces of advice you’d give your high school self. In honestly, this was actually was really hard for me. Since a lot of high school I spent running away from a lot of things, I think there were few enough times I had to stop myself and regret what I was doing. Looking back, there were probably a lot of places where I would have liked that pause button and some advice.
Tell him the truth, before it was too late. He’ll never read this blog. Never. But there was a point in time where I was hopelessly in love with someone I was spending a whole lot of time with my Sophomore year of high school. He wasn’t the most ideal person in the world but he had a great personality, he had an even better heart. He was everything that I could have wanted out of a guy. He made me laugh, he was attentive. Hell he knew I crushed on him so hard before I’d even said anything, but by the time I worked up the courage, it was beyond too late. I had fallen somewhere in the ‘best friend’ category. Somewhere in the “No Fly Zone” and while we had remained close, my chance to make him happy, to love him more than just that, had gone far, far away. I think my life would have been a shit ton different if I had just said something back then. Back when he really was mine. Sure years down the road he admitted that he had crushed on me as well, but he wanted something more solid than just that sort of high school puppy dog crush. I suppose he found it too. Now he has a wife, had a kid with her in high school. From here, he seems reasonably happy. I just wish I hadn’t missed that boat, wherever it had led to.
Be honest about your problems: ..I think that a whole lot of my masochistic phase that I have now as an adult is because back then, I wasn’t honest about my problems. I took all of that pain that I felt, all of that pressure and angst and I internalized it. I took a lot of that in and bottled it up. More so, I took all of that and I used it to made myself smaller, feel more insignificant, and I hurt myself so deeply with it. I think if I felt like there was someone I could be honest with, someone I could talk to then maybe it would have saved me. I was so fixed on being everything that was ‘okay’ that I couldn’t see that there were people there all the time that were worried about me. I was so interested in the mask that I put up that I didn’t see what it was in front of me. I didn’t see that I didn’t have to be that way, that I didn’t have to hurt myself. I think hearing that, knowing that someone knew there was something wrong inside of me, that I was lying,.. It might have stopped me from hurting myself in ways that I never thought possible, even now.
Its okay.. no matter what happens, its okay: I spent a lot of time freaking out about things. Grades, friends.. my parents. I never really stopped to believe that it was all going to be okay. I spent a lot of emotional pain on freaking out. I think just knowing somewhere that someone knew it was gonna be okay and hearing that. I think I would have smiled more. Its that knowledge of the future, that security that somewhere someone knew that it was gonna work out. My parents got divorced. Its okay. My friends were Gay, it was okay. My life felt like it was going to suck, but its okay. I think that more than anything would have lifted a whole lot off of my chest.
I’m sure there are other things around that I would have told myself. “Watch out for the slidding glass door” “It’s a mistake not to stick to college” “Watch out for that second one”… but none of those pale in comparison to those three lessons up there. Those three I think would have changed things drastically. In the end, better or worse, I’m me. Every step I’ve taken on this path has led me right where I am (Sitting next to Gail for an hour of my day). And if changing any of that meant that I wouldn’t wind up right back here, I don’t think I could change it.
I may not always like where I am in my life. Sometimes, I may down right hate myself, but I wouldn’t trade me for the world.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Oh the Horror of a LONG blog!!!
Alright! Here we go. Blog #2 of Gyna ‘n Nehney’s bloggy topic sync. As yesterday was explained, Gail is awesome and got me into blogging. We have decided that on the nights we work together, We’ll blog together. It helps to pass the time and for me personally, I’m enjoying just being honest and free somewhere. So tonight’s topic struck me pretty early in the day and its been a good hassle to get all the thoughts and feelings out. I’m a music freak. I absolutely live by it. Its only natural that with music there has to be something somewhere that helps my music define who I am as a person. Tonight’s subject was pretty simple. Five songs that would be considered your soundtrack to your life up to this point. I never thought that I’d think of something so hard. Almost 7 hours of whittling down songs and being able to work through why those songs defined me as a person. I even put links to youtube videos to listen to the songs in case you don't know them. They're pretty standard songs. Without further Ado… I am again blaming Gail!
Lynyard Skynyrd –Simple Man- Listen closely to what I say//And if you do this it’ll help you some sunny day. Why this song? This is for my dad. You can say what you want about me you can say what you want about my childhood. And sure we always remember the Bad more than we remember the good. But what I remember, what I’ll always remember is this song is my dad. He’s held me up in ways that no one can ever truly understand. My dad is everything in my universe that I love. He’s displayed characteristics that I know are inside of me. He’s got a heart beyond everything. He is the voice I listen to most often.
The good inside of me that he gave me is what keeps me anchored to the good in me that fights all that negativity. My dad.. is my dad. And that’s coming from a girl that’s very much a Daddy’s Girl. I’ll admit it. More so.. this song is beyond the lyrics and the rifts. That amazing whirlwind of guitar that is just the very Jesus Christ of guitar playing isn’t enough to make this song the first reason on my top five. Its here because somewhere inside my chest, every time I hear it, it twists something inside of me. I imagine that one-day, when I lose my dad, I’ll never be able to listen to this song without crying. That’s how deep this song is for me. Because its tied to him. It’s the words, the lesson.
The heart that comes from a parent to a child. A little bit of everything my dad tried to teach me, the good things I keep with me are a part of that song. Every time I hear it, I imagine my dad’s voice. His advice, his caution to be simple; to love myself; to understand myself; above everything else in my life resides in those lyrics. Its my dad’s words to follow my heart and nothing else and to find satisfaction on this road that I’m taking, no matter what it is. Anyone can take this song and say “That’s the whole song” But that’s it exactly. Because somewhere in the music, everyone can hear that, but not everyone feels the heart, the love that I got from my dad the first time we shared this song.
He had said he always wanted that from his parents. To have that connection so that he could look back on those words and keep them close. Instead, he gave them to me. Through everything, this song is what I am. I follow my heart, I follow my soul, I remember that there is nothing, absolutely nothing that I do without his love and support, his want to be happy. As I said before, the day I lose my dad, I’m probably going to lose this song because that bond will be broken physically, but the lessons are never lost.
The love, the firmness, the blood, sweat and tears it took to make this person is always going to be there because this is all I am and all I can be. Its something I take with me and keep with me even when I feel like everything’s been taken from me. Thank you Daddy.. even if you never read this. Thank you.
Johnny Cash –Hurt- I hurt myself today, To see if I still feel//I focus on the pain, The only thing that’s real Oh boy. This song is beyond incredibly personal for me. This is me at my worst; me at my most masochistic. Lets face it. Since I’m being honest beyond all honest on this blog: there have been one too many times in my life that I’ve done something to hurt myself. Beyond what the song speaks to in my need to punish myself, it’s the fact that there’s a moment in one’s life where they look back, they question. They go over, time and time again who they are, who they’ve become, who they want to be.
There have been so many times that I do things both consciously and sub-consciously that ends in my suffering. My best friend would call it my martyr complex. In truth, I believe that I can suffer because I can take it. It makes me stronger. It keeps me stronger. Even if I don’t want to be that monster. Even if I know what it can do, what its capable of, I have to lie to myself. I tell myself that without pain we can’t know what relief feels like. I justify that I’m capable of hurting myself in that way. Its not just the selfish end either. Its not just to end the things that drag me to that monster’s doorstep. Its suffering in the small ways for those I love. It’s putting up with more than I think I can handle.
I have to look at it positively. If I don’t, the monster may surface. In the end, this song is my darkness. I’ve always been told that the people that care about me the most worry about my sanity, worry for my sanity. Sometimes, I feel like they should, like they have a right to. In the depths of my soul, I feel this song. This is the final anthem after the monster has taken over and done its worst. This is the aftermath to the worst act that could be done, good or bad, sacrifice made. “I will let you down, I will make you hurt” … Because I can. Because you love me, and I still don’t love myself. If that makes any sense.
Staind –Please- And please, I’m still wearing this miserable skin//And it’s starting to tear from within I just want to know what you want from me. Is that so hard a question? Everyone has an agenda. I think that in the end, even if it’s the worst way to put it, the song for me is expectation. I do everything I can to be good enough for someone, anyone. I go through so many things and strain for such aching approval that I forget that there’s no one better to please than myself. I ache and I tear myself for acceptance.
Since I was a child I can remember wanting to be everything to everyone. More so, this song is the anger of falling short of that acceptance. So many times I feel like I’ve failed, that I’ve not been able to meet up to someone’s standards. As much as I hate it, I really think this was for my mom. For the anger that I carry around, I do find that I blame her. I felt as a child the only way that I’d be good enough was to be good enough for her standards, and I never felt like I was. Sure my mom pushed me to my grades to expectations but I never felt like I got a “Good job.” I honestly can’t say that I remember my mom ever saying, “I’m proud of you” unless it was the night that I graduated high school.
A sad thought actually. Maybe I’m also remembering the bad things over the good things, but again this is what its left me with. Also, I guess, as I got older, as I saw her for a person, I really didn’t let the anger go that I felt about the lack of praise for meeting the things she wanted. Even to this day, I’ve lived with so much of that anger, so much of that knot inside of me, that it’s a part of me. My anger has become as much of me as my heart. It’s no secret that I’m angry. It’s no secret that I’m afraid to let it go. I’m afraid of what I become without it. I think that also created this misplacement that I put on everyone.
I try to be everything to everyone. I try to make myself, strain myself for people that may not ever realize what I do for them. I cut myself to pieces, I tear myself down.. just for someone to look at what I do and say “Gina, you’re awesome.” And maybe I don’t appreciate that I do get that from some people. This would be my validation. The need in me to be validated to be good enough for someone on any level and the anger that stems because I don’t feel like I get enough of it.
Matchbox 20 –Real World- Strange, where were you, when we started this gig//I wish the real world, would just stop hassling me Ahaha, so true. In truth, I’m a child a heart with an imagination that rivals most major director’s fantasylands. Inevitably that day dreamy look goes away from everyone’s faces. Maybe not mine, but everyone else’s. In the span of a moment I honestly find myself wondering what it would be like to be an ice cream maker, a superhero, a princess, a bouncer, bartender and a blackjack dealer.
There’s more than a few moments on any given night that I feel like this real world of cell phones and headsets, a world of internet and television, the existence reality is just too much to bear. Instead I give myself a vacation where I’ve won the lottery. I daydream of creating a new life, a new person to be that wasn’t mean. New characters take on shape and form in my own mind that develop their own personality. Their story is just a hop skip and a jump away in the depths of my mind and twine on the very cusp of a life that make sense, then my phone goes off at work and I have to take a call. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve come out of that reverie only to find that I’m Gina again and Gina has to work.
Its fairly disheartening to be on a boat somewhere off of what would be modern day Seattle chasing pirates that have been murders to my kind and my family only to come back to someone needing my help. Even if I can create these worlds and these characters I find that in the real world I still exist. I still live here. Here is sometimes the pits but its mine and it makes me grateful for the things, the people that still do work with such a day
John Mayer -Edge of Desire- I want you so bad, I’ll go back on the things I believe//There I just said it, I’m scared you’ll forget about me. So this pick was really super hard because there are so many more things that I can be, that maybe I am, but I think that the passion that’s unbelievably displayed in wanting someone so much like this is really what I am. I think that its not only just the love and desire for one person but the people that you have in your life. It’s the desire to make them happy, to know that someone’s life is far more important than your own. What I’ve always wanted, what I’ve always craved and what I live to, is that sort of love.
I want to be wanted by someone enough that they would do anything for me. That passionate burning that courses through your veins that can only be put out by the other’s touch is something I crave only to have from someone but to be able to give to someone. Its beyond lust, beyond desire. It’s the absolute necessity to be essential to someone else. Its not a lot to ask and I think through my path, and my most recent scarring, that its more important now than ever. There used to be a line in a movie “Settle for anything and you’re doomed” I’ve settled. I know what it is to tell yourself that “This is the best you’ll ever do” not anymore not ever again. It’s a resolve to burn someone so deeply and to be burned in return. Its not without consequence, its not without its pain. But what a pain!
To feel that crawl under your skin, that itch you wouldn’t dare scratch because you’ve found it. The person that put their half of their soul, their being, somewhere so deep into you that there are a part of you as much as you are of them. Let it never be said that from here, from 25 I lived without passion. Its what I want, its what I’ll give and without regret. Its not lust, its deeper than just love. Its absolute need..
Alright… so there are my five. The five songs somewhere in the universe that I know sums me up. From darkness to passion. From sentimentality to anger. Its all me. Much harder than I thought, I even changed around that last song at the last minute. Maybe this has helped, maybe it hasn’t maybe no one reads this. But for the universe, there it is. I hope you’ve enjoyed! Comments are welcome.
Cheers!
~Mous
Lynyard Skynyrd –Simple Man- Listen closely to what I say//And if you do this it’ll help you some sunny day. Why this song? This is for my dad. You can say what you want about me you can say what you want about my childhood. And sure we always remember the Bad more than we remember the good. But what I remember, what I’ll always remember is this song is my dad. He’s held me up in ways that no one can ever truly understand. My dad is everything in my universe that I love. He’s displayed characteristics that I know are inside of me. He’s got a heart beyond everything. He is the voice I listen to most often.
The good inside of me that he gave me is what keeps me anchored to the good in me that fights all that negativity. My dad.. is my dad. And that’s coming from a girl that’s very much a Daddy’s Girl. I’ll admit it. More so.. this song is beyond the lyrics and the rifts. That amazing whirlwind of guitar that is just the very Jesus Christ of guitar playing isn’t enough to make this song the first reason on my top five. Its here because somewhere inside my chest, every time I hear it, it twists something inside of me. I imagine that one-day, when I lose my dad, I’ll never be able to listen to this song without crying. That’s how deep this song is for me. Because its tied to him. It’s the words, the lesson.
The heart that comes from a parent to a child. A little bit of everything my dad tried to teach me, the good things I keep with me are a part of that song. Every time I hear it, I imagine my dad’s voice. His advice, his caution to be simple; to love myself; to understand myself; above everything else in my life resides in those lyrics. Its my dad’s words to follow my heart and nothing else and to find satisfaction on this road that I’m taking, no matter what it is. Anyone can take this song and say “That’s the whole song” But that’s it exactly. Because somewhere in the music, everyone can hear that, but not everyone feels the heart, the love that I got from my dad the first time we shared this song.
He had said he always wanted that from his parents. To have that connection so that he could look back on those words and keep them close. Instead, he gave them to me. Through everything, this song is what I am. I follow my heart, I follow my soul, I remember that there is nothing, absolutely nothing that I do without his love and support, his want to be happy. As I said before, the day I lose my dad, I’m probably going to lose this song because that bond will be broken physically, but the lessons are never lost.
The love, the firmness, the blood, sweat and tears it took to make this person is always going to be there because this is all I am and all I can be. Its something I take with me and keep with me even when I feel like everything’s been taken from me. Thank you Daddy.. even if you never read this. Thank you.
Johnny Cash –Hurt- I hurt myself today, To see if I still feel//I focus on the pain, The only thing that’s real Oh boy. This song is beyond incredibly personal for me. This is me at my worst; me at my most masochistic. Lets face it. Since I’m being honest beyond all honest on this blog: there have been one too many times in my life that I’ve done something to hurt myself. Beyond what the song speaks to in my need to punish myself, it’s the fact that there’s a moment in one’s life where they look back, they question. They go over, time and time again who they are, who they’ve become, who they want to be.
There have been so many times that I do things both consciously and sub-consciously that ends in my suffering. My best friend would call it my martyr complex. In truth, I believe that I can suffer because I can take it. It makes me stronger. It keeps me stronger. Even if I don’t want to be that monster. Even if I know what it can do, what its capable of, I have to lie to myself. I tell myself that without pain we can’t know what relief feels like. I justify that I’m capable of hurting myself in that way. Its not just the selfish end either. Its not just to end the things that drag me to that monster’s doorstep. Its suffering in the small ways for those I love. It’s putting up with more than I think I can handle.
I have to look at it positively. If I don’t, the monster may surface. In the end, this song is my darkness. I’ve always been told that the people that care about me the most worry about my sanity, worry for my sanity. Sometimes, I feel like they should, like they have a right to. In the depths of my soul, I feel this song. This is the final anthem after the monster has taken over and done its worst. This is the aftermath to the worst act that could be done, good or bad, sacrifice made. “I will let you down, I will make you hurt” … Because I can. Because you love me, and I still don’t love myself. If that makes any sense.
Staind –Please- And please, I’m still wearing this miserable skin//And it’s starting to tear from within I just want to know what you want from me. Is that so hard a question? Everyone has an agenda. I think that in the end, even if it’s the worst way to put it, the song for me is expectation. I do everything I can to be good enough for someone, anyone. I go through so many things and strain for such aching approval that I forget that there’s no one better to please than myself. I ache and I tear myself for acceptance.
Since I was a child I can remember wanting to be everything to everyone. More so, this song is the anger of falling short of that acceptance. So many times I feel like I’ve failed, that I’ve not been able to meet up to someone’s standards. As much as I hate it, I really think this was for my mom. For the anger that I carry around, I do find that I blame her. I felt as a child the only way that I’d be good enough was to be good enough for her standards, and I never felt like I was. Sure my mom pushed me to my grades to expectations but I never felt like I got a “Good job.” I honestly can’t say that I remember my mom ever saying, “I’m proud of you” unless it was the night that I graduated high school.
A sad thought actually. Maybe I’m also remembering the bad things over the good things, but again this is what its left me with. Also, I guess, as I got older, as I saw her for a person, I really didn’t let the anger go that I felt about the lack of praise for meeting the things she wanted. Even to this day, I’ve lived with so much of that anger, so much of that knot inside of me, that it’s a part of me. My anger has become as much of me as my heart. It’s no secret that I’m angry. It’s no secret that I’m afraid to let it go. I’m afraid of what I become without it. I think that also created this misplacement that I put on everyone.
I try to be everything to everyone. I try to make myself, strain myself for people that may not ever realize what I do for them. I cut myself to pieces, I tear myself down.. just for someone to look at what I do and say “Gina, you’re awesome.” And maybe I don’t appreciate that I do get that from some people. This would be my validation. The need in me to be validated to be good enough for someone on any level and the anger that stems because I don’t feel like I get enough of it.
Matchbox 20 –Real World- Strange, where were you, when we started this gig//I wish the real world, would just stop hassling me Ahaha, so true. In truth, I’m a child a heart with an imagination that rivals most major director’s fantasylands. Inevitably that day dreamy look goes away from everyone’s faces. Maybe not mine, but everyone else’s. In the span of a moment I honestly find myself wondering what it would be like to be an ice cream maker, a superhero, a princess, a bouncer, bartender and a blackjack dealer.
There’s more than a few moments on any given night that I feel like this real world of cell phones and headsets, a world of internet and television, the existence reality is just too much to bear. Instead I give myself a vacation where I’ve won the lottery. I daydream of creating a new life, a new person to be that wasn’t mean. New characters take on shape and form in my own mind that develop their own personality. Their story is just a hop skip and a jump away in the depths of my mind and twine on the very cusp of a life that make sense, then my phone goes off at work and I have to take a call. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve come out of that reverie only to find that I’m Gina again and Gina has to work.
Its fairly disheartening to be on a boat somewhere off of what would be modern day Seattle chasing pirates that have been murders to my kind and my family only to come back to someone needing my help. Even if I can create these worlds and these characters I find that in the real world I still exist. I still live here. Here is sometimes the pits but its mine and it makes me grateful for the things, the people that still do work with such a day
John Mayer -Edge of Desire- I want you so bad, I’ll go back on the things I believe//There I just said it, I’m scared you’ll forget about me. So this pick was really super hard because there are so many more things that I can be, that maybe I am, but I think that the passion that’s unbelievably displayed in wanting someone so much like this is really what I am. I think that its not only just the love and desire for one person but the people that you have in your life. It’s the desire to make them happy, to know that someone’s life is far more important than your own. What I’ve always wanted, what I’ve always craved and what I live to, is that sort of love.
I want to be wanted by someone enough that they would do anything for me. That passionate burning that courses through your veins that can only be put out by the other’s touch is something I crave only to have from someone but to be able to give to someone. Its beyond lust, beyond desire. It’s the absolute necessity to be essential to someone else. Its not a lot to ask and I think through my path, and my most recent scarring, that its more important now than ever. There used to be a line in a movie “Settle for anything and you’re doomed” I’ve settled. I know what it is to tell yourself that “This is the best you’ll ever do” not anymore not ever again. It’s a resolve to burn someone so deeply and to be burned in return. Its not without consequence, its not without its pain. But what a pain!
To feel that crawl under your skin, that itch you wouldn’t dare scratch because you’ve found it. The person that put their half of their soul, their being, somewhere so deep into you that there are a part of you as much as you are of them. Let it never be said that from here, from 25 I lived without passion. Its what I want, its what I’ll give and without regret. Its not lust, its deeper than just love. Its absolute need..
Alright… so there are my five. The five songs somewhere in the universe that I know sums me up. From darkness to passion. From sentimentality to anger. Its all me. Much harder than I thought, I even changed around that last song at the last minute. Maybe this has helped, maybe it hasn’t maybe no one reads this. But for the universe, there it is. I hope you’ve enjoyed! Comments are welcome.
Cheers!
~Mous
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
My Blog agreement with Gail
Have I ever told the very few people that read this thing that I work with probably one of the most awesome people in the world. It is because of this person that I honestly started to blog, much less the fact that she's given me a new topic to blog about. Sorry about the two Emo fits, but this will be an attempt on both of us to blog about something positive.
So, after 7 hours of painstaking agony of trying to figure out interesting things to blog about, Gail and I have decided that our Blogs would be about what we plan or think about for our future lives, including Housing, Children and Jobs. So.. without further Ado.. blame Gail.
So of course every little girl has thought about it. Their future life. I honestly can say I’ve thought about it a couple of times. Things change as the years go on and plans change for different reasons, different people in your life but there are things that I want from life that may seem a little frivolous that will stay the same about what I want from the future.
So, lets assume the best. I’ve just hit the powerball and guess what!? It’s a doozey. That means anything I want from life and the money to be able to do it. SHOPPING… can we say Liposuction? xD Just kidding.. a little.. after the other stuff…The reason I’m taking the “Hit the lotto world” is because my real future, has a snowball’s chance in hell to actually end up this way. So lets go!
Housing: In all brutal honesty for what I want from my life is very simple. I want a good house with a BIG kitchen and an upstairs that’s set on some nice plot of land with a yard, grass and maybe even a pool. Somewhere where the trees change color in the fall and maybe even SNOWED.. Living in the desert, I’m pretty strung out. So that’s simple housing living. Room for a desk, a king size tempurpedic bed in the master bedroom. Really nice black wrot iron makeshift complete with handcuff friendly posts. Large fluffy pillows with pillowy soft comforters. Artwork framed in dark elegance to the whole dark onyx feel to the room. The flat screen set between both walk in closets. A balcony headed out from the second floor. A good whirlpool bathtub and a separate glass shower. Marble flooring and an open glassed view to the outside world. The very lap of luxury for the Master’s bedroom. Plush carpeting beneath bare feet that was almost made to muffle sound beneath. Likely sitting right over the kitchen and the ‘breakfast nook’
I’m kinda opting out of children these days simply because I don’t think its going to happen one way or the other. My lover of choice, whoever he may be, will have likely settled on at least one room of the upstairs three bedroom house being mine for my books, console gaming, my computer and my off time work. And the other being simply another room in the house. Maybe for hopes one day of making a family out of the home that was designed for one. His Man Cave would be the garage. Just a large slanted roofed offshoot of the real house. Running the fat ‘double wide’ length of the house that contained my homage to every single car I’ve ever wanted… Though words like “Lotus” and “Porsche” are likely the front runners of my droolable car collection, never to be overlooked by the “Mustangs” and the “Big ass Truck” and that gorgeous little top down “Mini Cooper” .. though I’d likely have to be in that situation to really decided. In my heart of hearts though… I think Classic muscle wins out for my weekend toy.. and that top down Mini wins my weekday race.
I’d love to have a man that can do things with his hands. I honestly don’t care what he does.. What he wants to do. I have very minimal requirements for the man that I’d wanna share that little house with. I want him to love me. I want him to be able to love himself without hanging on my skirts. I think I’m reminded of that .38 Special Song.. hold on loosely. Someone to SHARE a life with. Not for him to crowd mine, or for me to crowd him because I’m afraid. Someone to be a companion and friend as much as he is a lover and a soul mate.
I wanna be able to cook. I’ve decided that already and I’m sticking to that. As good as writing is… as much as I’d love to do nothing but that.. Cooking gives something of myself to the world, to the people that taste my food that writing could never give. It doesn’t mean I’d give it up, I just wouldn’t make that everything I’m about.
I’d like to be able to hold down my own business. A restaurant that would allow me the freedom to cook for people even if it was the same thing every time. A place where I can get out from behind that swinging door and know the people that are sitting down at my tables. Ordering drinks that Myself and my head tender came up with. I’d like the hold to be able to put something out there in the universe, my gift to the world in the most essential need such as food, and have them love it. Its more value and worth in a damn speck of food than all the gold that has ever gone missing into the ocean. At least I think so.
Its not so simple a living, but clean. And when the day gets rough, I know I’m superwoman. I can come home to my honey, curl up on the oversize couch and vegge out to some completely retarded film where he made me the most awesome grilled cheese sandminch and poured me a glass of wine for my hard day’s at work.
Children are so optional that I honestly say that I don’t consider them part of that picture. Sure I’ve thought of names, wondered how two names for girls would sound, but I can’t say I’ve ever put it past one. A little girl, “Amily James” for first and middle name. Her last would obviously be her father’s doing. So if she’s gonna exist somewhere out there, she’d better hope he’s got a good last name for that. I’m not budging. If I had her, she’d grow up with two older Cousins, and a Tia Kat that would be the best tia ever. Her Nana ‘Reen would spoil her rotten and teach her all the things that would make me scowl. Her Tata George would be her hero like he was for me. But no one beats Daddy to the one that hung the moon.
She’d know travel every year for her birthday and parties with all of her friends.
She’d be spoiled to the very ends of her wits, but know that if she stepped out of line it could be gone in a heartbeat. She’d ride horses with the wind in her hair and wrestle with puppy dogs that she wanted.
A responsible kid that loved music and sports. Reading beneath the stars or watching the clouds move in shape. Her eyes would be alight with the world at her fingertips. Dragging Mommy and Daddy through her little adventure with just the curling smile of her lips and the laughter in her throat. She’d change the world around he and I both. She’d be smart and beautiful, knowing limitless possibility for anything she wanted, and likely squandering it all.
But that would be my daughter. Her heels dug in where she wanted them to be and wouldn’t budge just because someone told her she was wrong. She’d wanna run with the bulls or stay home and program. Fearless and fragile all in the blink of an eye. That would be AJ for me.
If I ever had her, the rest of the world could fade away. She’d never be further than the reach of my arms. But the things I want would be simple. A simple career that would give me the freedom to know what a “Nest egg” was. A simple man that did what made him happy. The laughter and smiles of a household build on the love that my family taught me and the good food that would all heal us, even for a moment.
Its simple enough the life that I want..
PS. I also want bigger boobs.
TTFN~
Mous
So, after 7 hours of painstaking agony of trying to figure out interesting things to blog about, Gail and I have decided that our Blogs would be about what we plan or think about for our future lives, including Housing, Children and Jobs. So.. without further Ado.. blame Gail.
So of course every little girl has thought about it. Their future life. I honestly can say I’ve thought about it a couple of times. Things change as the years go on and plans change for different reasons, different people in your life but there are things that I want from life that may seem a little frivolous that will stay the same about what I want from the future.
So, lets assume the best. I’ve just hit the powerball and guess what!? It’s a doozey. That means anything I want from life and the money to be able to do it. SHOPPING… can we say Liposuction? xD Just kidding.. a little.. after the other stuff…The reason I’m taking the “Hit the lotto world” is because my real future, has a snowball’s chance in hell to actually end up this way. So lets go!
Housing: In all brutal honesty for what I want from my life is very simple. I want a good house with a BIG kitchen and an upstairs that’s set on some nice plot of land with a yard, grass and maybe even a pool. Somewhere where the trees change color in the fall and maybe even SNOWED.. Living in the desert, I’m pretty strung out. So that’s simple housing living. Room for a desk, a king size tempurpedic bed in the master bedroom. Really nice black wrot iron makeshift complete with handcuff friendly posts. Large fluffy pillows with pillowy soft comforters. Artwork framed in dark elegance to the whole dark onyx feel to the room. The flat screen set between both walk in closets. A balcony headed out from the second floor. A good whirlpool bathtub and a separate glass shower. Marble flooring and an open glassed view to the outside world. The very lap of luxury for the Master’s bedroom. Plush carpeting beneath bare feet that was almost made to muffle sound beneath. Likely sitting right over the kitchen and the ‘breakfast nook’
I’m kinda opting out of children these days simply because I don’t think its going to happen one way or the other. My lover of choice, whoever he may be, will have likely settled on at least one room of the upstairs three bedroom house being mine for my books, console gaming, my computer and my off time work. And the other being simply another room in the house. Maybe for hopes one day of making a family out of the home that was designed for one. His Man Cave would be the garage. Just a large slanted roofed offshoot of the real house. Running the fat ‘double wide’ length of the house that contained my homage to every single car I’ve ever wanted… Though words like “Lotus” and “Porsche” are likely the front runners of my droolable car collection, never to be overlooked by the “Mustangs” and the “Big ass Truck” and that gorgeous little top down “Mini Cooper” .. though I’d likely have to be in that situation to really decided. In my heart of hearts though… I think Classic muscle wins out for my weekend toy.. and that top down Mini wins my weekday race.
I’d love to have a man that can do things with his hands. I honestly don’t care what he does.. What he wants to do. I have very minimal requirements for the man that I’d wanna share that little house with. I want him to love me. I want him to be able to love himself without hanging on my skirts. I think I’m reminded of that .38 Special Song.. hold on loosely. Someone to SHARE a life with. Not for him to crowd mine, or for me to crowd him because I’m afraid. Someone to be a companion and friend as much as he is a lover and a soul mate.
I wanna be able to cook. I’ve decided that already and I’m sticking to that. As good as writing is… as much as I’d love to do nothing but that.. Cooking gives something of myself to the world, to the people that taste my food that writing could never give. It doesn’t mean I’d give it up, I just wouldn’t make that everything I’m about.
I’d like to be able to hold down my own business. A restaurant that would allow me the freedom to cook for people even if it was the same thing every time. A place where I can get out from behind that swinging door and know the people that are sitting down at my tables. Ordering drinks that Myself and my head tender came up with. I’d like the hold to be able to put something out there in the universe, my gift to the world in the most essential need such as food, and have them love it. Its more value and worth in a damn speck of food than all the gold that has ever gone missing into the ocean. At least I think so.
Its not so simple a living, but clean. And when the day gets rough, I know I’m superwoman. I can come home to my honey, curl up on the oversize couch and vegge out to some completely retarded film where he made me the most awesome grilled cheese sandminch and poured me a glass of wine for my hard day’s at work.
Children are so optional that I honestly say that I don’t consider them part of that picture. Sure I’ve thought of names, wondered how two names for girls would sound, but I can’t say I’ve ever put it past one. A little girl, “Amily James” for first and middle name. Her last would obviously be her father’s doing. So if she’s gonna exist somewhere out there, she’d better hope he’s got a good last name for that. I’m not budging. If I had her, she’d grow up with two older Cousins, and a Tia Kat that would be the best tia ever. Her Nana ‘Reen would spoil her rotten and teach her all the things that would make me scowl. Her Tata George would be her hero like he was for me. But no one beats Daddy to the one that hung the moon.
She’d know travel every year for her birthday and parties with all of her friends.
She’d be spoiled to the very ends of her wits, but know that if she stepped out of line it could be gone in a heartbeat. She’d ride horses with the wind in her hair and wrestle with puppy dogs that she wanted.
A responsible kid that loved music and sports. Reading beneath the stars or watching the clouds move in shape. Her eyes would be alight with the world at her fingertips. Dragging Mommy and Daddy through her little adventure with just the curling smile of her lips and the laughter in her throat. She’d change the world around he and I both. She’d be smart and beautiful, knowing limitless possibility for anything she wanted, and likely squandering it all.
But that would be my daughter. Her heels dug in where she wanted them to be and wouldn’t budge just because someone told her she was wrong. She’d wanna run with the bulls or stay home and program. Fearless and fragile all in the blink of an eye. That would be AJ for me.
If I ever had her, the rest of the world could fade away. She’d never be further than the reach of my arms. But the things I want would be simple. A simple career that would give me the freedom to know what a “Nest egg” was. A simple man that did what made him happy. The laughter and smiles of a household build on the love that my family taught me and the good food that would all heal us, even for a moment.
Its simple enough the life that I want..
PS. I also want bigger boobs.
TTFN~
Mous
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
I get what I deserve
Some days I feel like I'm just choking down bitterness. Like its hard to swallow all the time in between. The other day in the car with my best friend the song The Approaching Curve came on. There's a line there
"Why are you doing this?" she spoke as if not expecting a response.
Her voice penetrated the still air of our speechless drive,
So suddenly that my heart had jumped.
"I'm not doing anything," I said, but I didn't even believe that myself.
"This is what's best, for me, for you, for us," or maybe just for me I thought,
That contiously strikes me about the song. Because that's what it was... Why was he doing this? Why did he break it all to pieces? Why did he break me all to pieces? That's the bitterness I choke down all the time. I'm supposed to be getting better, to be getting over this. That last part there.. maybe that was it.
I told her that I knew when I was better because that part of the song would stop twisting something inside of me. It hasn't stopped. What's going to do it? What's going to set me free? I keep going back to people to things.. to those I think I love. Maybe that's not it at all.
Maybe I do need to be by myself for a while longer. Maybe I need to go away. Delete my DA, delete my whole existence tied to that. Sure, I wanna make him the villain. He hurt me. He hurt me deeper than anything he'll understand. What's worse, he didn't care. I always told him I was afraid of being dispensable to him. He lied to me, straight to my face. Everyone's dispensable.
I have good days and I have bad days. Maybe this is just another one of those bad days. I know he's happy. Our circles haven't separated far enough for me to have him out of my system. I wish it had. Maybe when I leave but its so far away. I wish I could just bleed it out. Bleed all of it out. The part that twists and tatters around the edges of a hole that hasn't healed. The small strings that still rip away through the scar tissue to open up at the seams again and bleed anew.
What do you do with a wound that just won't heal? I'd like to know. I'd like to know how to make it stop, how to dull the pain. Hating him won't work. Ignoring him hasn't. ..Yeah. Its a pretty bad day. Maybe its the sleep deprivation. Maybe I'm just lonely. Maybe I'm convinced and resigned to the fact that maybe I got what I deserves cosmically.
Life is suffering. If that's the case, I'm very much alive.
"Why are you doing this?" she spoke as if not expecting a response.
Her voice penetrated the still air of our speechless drive,
So suddenly that my heart had jumped.
"I'm not doing anything," I said, but I didn't even believe that myself.
"This is what's best, for me, for you, for us," or maybe just for me I thought,
That contiously strikes me about the song. Because that's what it was... Why was he doing this? Why did he break it all to pieces? Why did he break me all to pieces? That's the bitterness I choke down all the time. I'm supposed to be getting better, to be getting over this. That last part there.. maybe that was it.
I told her that I knew when I was better because that part of the song would stop twisting something inside of me. It hasn't stopped. What's going to do it? What's going to set me free? I keep going back to people to things.. to those I think I love. Maybe that's not it at all.
Maybe I do need to be by myself for a while longer. Maybe I need to go away. Delete my DA, delete my whole existence tied to that. Sure, I wanna make him the villain. He hurt me. He hurt me deeper than anything he'll understand. What's worse, he didn't care. I always told him I was afraid of being dispensable to him. He lied to me, straight to my face. Everyone's dispensable.
I have good days and I have bad days. Maybe this is just another one of those bad days. I know he's happy. Our circles haven't separated far enough for me to have him out of my system. I wish it had. Maybe when I leave but its so far away. I wish I could just bleed it out. Bleed all of it out. The part that twists and tatters around the edges of a hole that hasn't healed. The small strings that still rip away through the scar tissue to open up at the seams again and bleed anew.
What do you do with a wound that just won't heal? I'd like to know. I'd like to know how to make it stop, how to dull the pain. Hating him won't work. Ignoring him hasn't. ..Yeah. Its a pretty bad day. Maybe its the sleep deprivation. Maybe I'm just lonely. Maybe I'm convinced and resigned to the fact that maybe I got what I deserves cosmically.
Life is suffering. If that's the case, I'm very much alive.
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