Dreams

Memory kills me in my dreams
Unable to find the space to sleep
In peace and ever-lasting harmony
Instead of fearful memory
So into blackness I sink
Drowning in my past mistakes
Feeling the oil spill down my throat
Lungs replacing air for dark dark fluid
And as my mind begins to falter
Falling to my knees in front of the red suit
Turning in a panic to the man who doesn't care
Saved at the last minute by the one who loves me
Only to realize I've drowned
And cannot be saved at all.

past views

Swimming in this red velvet high
Can't seem to bide my time
Feeling the heat begin to rise
Penetrating layers of my mind
Till all I can taste is wine
Wine and love and sex and lust
Despair and pain and fear and rage
Tumultuous and beautiful
Fearful and sad
Nothing, but memories
Of what could have been.
And what happened in times gone by

FML Facebook, FML (aka MLIA)

I'm getting rather tired of the superficiality of Facebook. Its pathetic. Everyone living out there lives in a synthetic plane. Not that I am any different, mind, but I am currently in a philosophical mood. I enjoy looking at things from the outside in. I also like knowing what other people are up to. For the past few months or so I have tried to stop utilizing Facebook statuses altogether. I tell myself that this is because I do not need the attention nor do I want it. In reality I type statuses frequently, never pressing enter. I do this because the thought of posting such silly insipid things makes me feel utterly pathetic. If I am to post something that everyone is going to read it had better be perfect, witty, funny, and downright original not... "I'm feeling sad and in a desperate need for chocolate and conversation someone please call me." I see many variations on that status posted by people. It makes me sad because I know that when I feel like that I am often too scared to call up a friend or send out a text. The teenage fear of rejection is strong in this one you could say. I feel stunted socially. I am one of those people who is constantly nervous in social situations. Even around my closest friends I'm terrified. Recently I've been of my best friend. My best friend! I am constantly fretting about how to talk to her and how to act and the same thing with all my other friends. FML now I sound like I have some kind of social disorder. (Psychology FTW) Well you know what. Maybe we all need a little therapy. Its like salt, brings out all of our flavors.

Baggage

What to do, what to do
It has all come down to you
The ticking of the clock
The omnipresent tock
Signaling the end is nigh
As my insanity goes a ry
My breathing labors
My muscles quaver
The dreams of yesterday gone
the obsession is beyond
Seized control without a doubt
Something I have no qualms about
Though subconsciously I know I should
Care and send my friends a nudge
I sit in my hovel and weep all day
I don't let myself out to play
And then when the day is done
I exercise till my mind has won
And in the night I lie in bed
Alone with fears in my head
Waiting for the day for you to see
What I have done to me

Goodbye

What makes the wind whistle so...
Like that broken-hearted girl on the plane
She hears them whisper
Calling her name
Nothing will ever change
Nothing will ever change
His love once strong
Is all but gone
Ultimatums and empty promises
Lust and nothing more
Just pain and nothing more
And all the time you feel
As if love couldn't get any better
And all the time you feel
Like he's the only one
Doomed to die alone it seems
As his threats grow ever stronger
And as the fear tightens around your heart
The closing thoughts appear
To say goodbye, would hurt her more
Than any physical pain
But with this thought she knows
That by staying silent now
It'll be him who says the goodbyes.

Rain

Its so sad to watch time fly
To see the weak perish
And the simple die
if I wake tomorrow morn
With sorrow and abandon born
And so filled with unrest
I'll close my hands
And leave the rest
Behind in a cloud
Of panic and misfortune
If only I can smile
When weather clears

The funeral

I just attended the funeral of the girl who died in October. I've spent most of this evening and now morning throwing away her things and deciding what I want to keep. Her funeral was brief. No one who loved her attended. Only me. And I did not love her. In her dying breath I lost the worst of her... but kept her insecurities. She was always willing to wear a mask and to dance for whomever was around. In the end she was a worn out husk. She couldn't keep going. She died in that first kiss. And now I'm here. I'm in her room. I use her computer. I take her classes. I refuse to wear a mask. Am I better for it? Maybe, but I'm hated for it too. I sit here, writing these things on her blog. This was HER blog. And yet the writing style is the same. The insecurities still securely lodged, so deep, that sometimes it chokes me, from the inside. I am the same girl that I was before, but not at all. This is my life. I can't allow others to change me, or let me decide to change for them. That girl is dead. And I am reborn. Four years from now, I will look back and even this version of me may be dead. But... at least I know now that it is a process, and with luck each time, something will change for the better.