fuck these thoughts.

things from my journal. blog. moleskine. and life.

[January 2, 2014]

I had a dream about you last night.
I can’t really remember it but there was a sad mood to it all
and it was
valentines day.
You had hurt me
or let me down again but
we were on our way to reconciling.
We were laying down.
My head fit perfectly like it does,
in the crook of your shoulder.
You told me not to
expect a present.
And then took one of my hands
that was clenched to my body
and put it on your chest.
You said something significant and wise and telling
but not so much beautiful,
just true.
But I can’t remember it now.

[September 19, 2013]

It’s amazing how much 
you sacrifice
when you become happy.

I haven’t written in a while.
What? Poor sad little girl has nothing
to write about when she becomes
happy?
When she falls in love?

Screw her.

I hate her.

Even now.
When I don’t think I could even 
recognize “happy” or not.
I don’t have anything to say.

Maybe I’m in shock.
Maybe I’m in denial.

I let myself fall in love.
(Selfish)
I let myself love you.
And yet I’m still surprised when it 
blows up in my face. 
I let myself become vulnerable.
I gave you my secrets.
I tried to help you.
I tried being the helper.
And I am simply not strong enough
for that.

I’m hurting so much.
Everything hurts.
And the smallest little thing
takes so much effort.

Why am I here?
It’s a question I ask myself
from time to time.
Why am I still fucking here?
I DON’T WANT TO BE HERE ANYMORE.

Why don’t you want me anymore?
I know you would say that you do.
But it can’t be.
You just keep on pushing me away
So it’s the result I come to.

If I were to leave
would you chase after me?
Or let me go.

Am I worth it to you?

Is this pain worth it for me?

I don’t have any words.

[December 30, 2013]

I’m laying in bed
the lights are off
and it’s later than I want it to be.
It’s at the end of the day when I feel most alone.
The tears jump to their suicide
and I’m angry about it.
What do I miss?
What am I crying for?
We were both gone
long before we made it
official.
But now it feels so real.
And all I can say
is that I did this to myself.

[November 8, 2013]

I’m starting to feel like
my world is one big
bubble of anxiety.
I can’t breathe anymore.
My need for air is 
far past my lung
capacity.
I’m going crazy.
I talk to myself because
hardly anyone else will listen
anymore.
I talk myself into things
and out of things.
And into believing
the most obscure
bizarre 
things.
I laugh at “jokes” I say to people
who aren’t listening.
Who aren’t there.
Who don’t even exist sometimes.
I laugh and consider tweeting them
and then back out mid post.
I think about the same thing
over and over and over again.
I wonder when it’ll go away.
It hasn’t for years
but I’m still here.
Wondering.
My mind is running in circles.
Running in place.
Not running at all.
And my world can’t stop spinning.
No wait.
I’m getting confused now.
I don’t know what is happening.
And I don’t like it.
I think I miss something
but I don’t know what I miss.
"I am homesick for an unknown place."
I wrote that once.
And maybe that’s the case now?
Or maybe I’m missing someone
or something.
I don’t know.
I don’t know anything.
Don’t ask me for directions.
Don’t ask me what time it is.
It’s all brain surgery.

[February 26, 2013]

I don’t cut because I want to die.
I mean, 
I want to die,
I just don’t cut with that intent in mind.
I cut because I need to.
I cut because I like it.
I cut because it feels good.
Because I can depend on it.
And because I have to
To keep my sanity.
I don’t cut because I want to die.
I cut because I cannot live.

[April 17, 2013]

I have a secret
And yet I wear it on my sleeve.
Cold and comforting
And it is all mine.
No one gets to know.
They would only be so lucky.
I smile a little.
And I close my eyes and keep them shut for a bit.
And a deep peaceful breath
Just for good measure.
I’m finally happy.
Finally happy, but I know
The feeling is starting to
Fade even as I write this down.
Because eventually the pain goes away.
The physicality of it all just stops hurting
And I’m left with a dull constant pain within.
Oh so very unsatisfying.
And the painful ordinary task of
Pretending that nothing is wrong, when
My outsides have healed.
For now, I savor this moment.
For now, I finally am able to truly breathe.
For now, I feel a little bit closer to home,
A little bit closer to death.

[September 23, 2012]

Screaming, screaming, screaming.
I’m screaming so loud
but the sound just won’t come out.

Frozen.
Drunk.
And my mouth isn’t working.

This is not a joke,
and not something made up to
hide drunken mistakes.
This is real.
At least
until You try and convince me otherwise.

I spent a year and a half
denying.
Deny, denying denial.
But it hit me.
One day it just hit.
And hasn’t stopped from haunting
haunting
haunting
every part of my brain.
Every part of my body.
Heart.
Soul.
Mind.

Infestation in my dreams.
And I cannot escape it.
I cannot escape You.
I don’t know how and couldn’t even
begin to try.

Your head is always replaced
with current lovers
current boyfriends
current friends.
Your head is replaced by the people I love.
Or no.
The people I could love.
Maybe.

Your head is replaced
and it’s like I’m there again.
Screaming, screaming, screaming.
But I’m really actually screaming
and it doesn’t cease.
It’s still You
but it’s also them. 
And there’s no signs of stopping.

And then I wake up.
Oh so often in their arms.
And I hate them a little.
And I try to hate You a lot.

And I’m screaming.
Screaming.
Screaming.
And I just can’t wake up.
I can’t wake up from
real life.

And You’re  following, following, following.
Following me around.
Crawling into my dreams.
And killing my heart.

All the while
You’re screaming
screaming
screaming

"Wake up
and just get on with it.” 

August 9, 2012

It was a little boy
sitting all alone in the corner
of my room.
White blonde bowl cut
and icy glass blue eyes.
That starred vacant.
But intense.
At something I couldn’t see
but was surely there.
He was the picture of
demonic innocence
and childlike horror.
My mind jumped,
picturing the instance he turned on me by killing me slowly.
Slowly so he could hear my cries and delight in them.
An evil only a child could possess. Making me scream in terror and then apologize for getting blood on his shoes.
And the thing is.
I’m in love with him.
I can be his savior.
I can be his and he can be mine.
Another mind jump.
To him devouring my flesh.
Taking bite after bite out of my side.
Eating my skin, muscles, and connecting tissue.
And then leaving the bones.
And the tears are streaming down my face.
This is love.
This is my soulmate.

[June 18, 2012]

I used to think that being with you was the closest I’ve ever come to being in love.

But that’s not true at all.

And now, I know I’m not in love. I’m so very much in lust. But still maybe closer in love than when I was with you.

[April 2, 2012]

Today is six months.
Half a year since I was 
almost not here currently.

I tried to kill myself.
And I’d like to say that
from then on, everything changed.
And I guess it did in some ways
but didn’t in all too many. 

I’m still the same person.
More fucked up, in fact.
And there’s just no escaping it.
There’s no way to escape my mind,
to just take a rest from it all.

Countless questions remain unanswered
and unthought of.

Did I really want to die?
Do I still want to die?
What the hell is wrong with me?
What the hell?  What the hell?  What the hell?
Why am I still here?
Why didn’t I take more pills?
Why am I still feeling this way?

I got a “second chance” at living technically.
I should be eating this shit up.
But I still feel so empty
and there’s still too many holes
that need to be filled.

I am bleeding on the inside
and crying on the outside.
And I just don’t know what to do with myself. 

I want to jump.
I want to fly.
I want to sleep.
I want to die.