A tawny gypsy girl, sleeping blanketed by stars...

Whhooo, a year later!

2009-09-30T07:52:19Z

So tonight I was really sad and James was being a jerkface, and then I couldn't sleep, so I wrote this.

Imagine there’s no heaven. It’s easy if you try – no hell below us, above us, only sky. I feel like below me lies an abyss, nothing for as far as the eye can see, and even further. Above me is miles and miles of dark water, oceans and oceans of it. I’m drowning. I’m suffocating. I’m lost and no one will ever find me.

Imagine there’s no countries. It isn’t hard to do. Nothing to kill or die for, and no religion, too. I don’t know what I would die for anymore, but I’d kill to be able to understand myself – my life – biology – the government – anything these days. I would kill for the world to make sense. I would die for the happiness of everyone else. I would die to escape this.

Imagine there’s no porn. It’s impossible for some. No one being objectified, no disgusting acts. Imagine all the men, loving just their mates. I feel like my boyfriend doesn’t even want to touch me – he’d rather touch himself while watching a 15 year old blonde with fake boobs get gangbanged by six black guys. Is that healthy? It’s not for me. He doesn’t care, though. He doesn’t care that his preference to porn and his choice of porn makes me feel like I felt when I was ten years old. Dirty. Used. Violated. Unloved. Worthless. But he won’t stop, not for me.

The water is getting deeper every day. Sometimes I can see a submarine floating around above me, sometimes there’s a diver with a flashlight. But sometimes he turns his back and leaves me alone, crying, wanting something to hold onto. The submarine keeps me alive – they drop food sometimes, they boost me up when they pass below me – but they don’t care for me, or else they would try harder.

I like to think I’ve been an okay person. In reality, I’m a terrible person. I deserve to drown in this place. These miles of water above me are my penance for lying, cheating, stealing, having sex, getting drunk that one time, overeating and being fat, being mean to people, thinking I’m better than some people, being judgmental, sleeping late. It wasn’t enough to have money issues, car troubles, illness, lack of employment, backstabbing friends, loneliness, awkwardness, stupidity, failure after failure, jerk boyfriends, or sexual abuse. This lonely water, this horrible, suffocating, heavy sorrowful water, this is my punishment for how I lived.

Imagine there’s no drugs. It’s an impossible dream. No people needing fixes, no stupid people doing stupid things while high. Alcohol, pot, coke, and shrooms – I’ve seen people I love succumb to these things and die slowly within themselves. I do not understand why people want to put themselves through that. My boyfriend likes to drink, not like an alcoholic – yet. But he doesn’t care that it tears me up inside, eating away at my stomach and my heart. He doesn’t care that it makes me cry. He doesn’t care that I sacrificed all that I believe in and got drunk, once, for him. To make it work. Because even if he doesn’t love me enough to try, I love him enough. Too much, perhaps.

Imagine all the people, living for today. You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one. Maybe one day we’ll join up, and the world can start to heal. Maybe all the vices and addictions will one day be gone, and maybe everyone will be happy with one person and not need to cheat or rape or divorce. Maybe no one will kill anymore. Maybe everything will be fine. I will not get to see it, I’m afraid. The abyss has been creeping closer this whole time, and now I can hardly see the submarine. The diver is watching me drift away, but he’s not waving. He’s not swimming towards me. He’s just floating there, watching, glad to be rid of this responsibility. Glad I am gone. Not at all sorry to see me die.

Whatevs. Random emotastic nonsense. Let me know what you think. <3

PS

2008-09-12T01:14:00Z

I also just wrote this. YAY PRODUCTIVITY.

Twelve simple words. "I can't do this. I don't want to be with you anymore." That's all it took, and my world slid slowly to the ground.

Twelve months. One year. I thought it would be easy. I thought we would be together for so much longer than that, that our first year wouldn't even matter.

Twelve days of agony, the week you were gone, the two days after you returned, and the three it took me to feel normal around you again. You agreed to try again, but I'm doing all the trying.

Twelve steps. I'm terrified that's my future. I've done more to be with you than I ever thought I would do for any guy, and even though you "never asked" me to, I hope you realize what that means. I gave it all up for you. You won't give anything up for me.

Twelve people have told me not to change for you.

Twelve different people told me to dump your sorry ass.

Twelve times we've been in this place. That's not good.

Twelve times I've cried myself to sleep, thinking you would leave me, knowing I'm not good enough, worrying that I'm too much for you. You affirmed all of these suspicions with those twelve simple words.

Twelve months later - will I look back on this, poke you in the side, and say "Hey, remember when we broke up? God, we were naive." Will we laugh as we think back on the silly little problems we have now? Or will I be alone, crying as I remember what today was, a year ago.

Twelve days from now, will we be celebrating our anniversary, or will we be alone, wondering what we would have done that day?

Twelve steps from your door to my car, twelve of the longest, slowest steps I've ever taken, waiting for you to call me back. Waiting to hear "I was too hasty, let's forget it. I want to be with you."

Twelve people telling me you weren't worth it anyway.

Twelve people telling me I'm better off without you.

Twelve times I start to call you, only to stare at your name on my phone and feel the tears start to spill.

Twelve times I wish you were with me, then immediately wish I'd never met you, while trying to remind myself of all the horrible things you've done so that maybe I won't love you anymore. Wishing you were worth it, wishing I was worth it... wishing that we were as amazing as we could have been together.

Twelve great loves of my life, and you're the only One.

Woot emoness, but still - it's writing! And I think it's pretty good... I dunno. You tell me!

HEY GUYS LOOK IT'S AN UPDATE OMG

2008-09-12T00:27:57Z

Look guys, I actually wrote something! :D

Everytime I looked at him after that day, my heart stayed still in my chest. No fluttering, no leaping into my throat. I looked at him like I looked at everyone. There was no specialness in our eye contact, no longing in my lingering stare, no wistfulness in my eyes - just appraisal, noticing the new, and judgement. Like everyone else.

"Hannah, you seem different." My friends noticed that I had changed. "Is everything okay? Is it Liam?"

Liam. What a name. Why couldn't I like a guy with a name like Steve, or Joe, or Frank? It was a poetic name, a dramatic name. But then, I guess it was a good thing that I didn't hear the name "Liam" that often. It made it easier to forget him.

"I'm okay, guys. I just... I just want to move on. I don't want to talk about him."

They left me alone, but I didn't move on. I thought about him all the time.

Liam. With his stupid jet black hair, cut carelessly across his forehead. His stupid green eyes, greener than any cliche metaphor could ever be. Greener than the first original green thing, whatever that might have been. And clear, too - clear green windows into his stupid perfect soul. His stupid crooked smile that turned my heart into soup and my knees into jelly. So sweet and nice and caring, and then without warning he turned into a vampire, sucking all the love and devotion out of me and leaving me, drained, to die in the streets.

Liam. His stupid name even sends shivers down my spine. Stupid traitorous spine. I wish I could forget the way his voice felt in the pit of my stomach, or the way he used to hold a pencil, a spoon, my hand. Stupid giant hands with his stupid sexy fingers.

Liam.

It had rained earlier that day, and he asked me to meet him in the park anyway. We couldn't swing because the seats were wet, and the sand stuck to our shoes. The shining leaves fell to the soaking ground, sticking in my hair, on my jacket. Reds and oranges and yellows, ten different shades of green and brown, and swirling all around us. My favorite time of year - or, at least, it used to be.

I was nervous, since he'd asked me to come here and not told me why, but I thought everything was fine between us. I had no idea what was in store - I was thinking at worst, maybe his dad had had a heart attack, or maybe his brother was in a car accident. I was all ready to comfort him. But then he spoke.

"Hannah." The way he said my name cut straight into my soul. I used to love hearing it, but now it scared me.

"Hannah, I have to tell you something." He sounded too serious for what I was expecting. My heart sped up, pumping adrenalin through my veins, trying to prepare for the moment it would stop still in my chest. It knew what was coming - I still did not.

"Hannah, you're a terrific girl. I really like you, and I really care about you." I was nodding, as if agreeing with everything he said would make him change his mind about what to say next.

"But... I just can't do this anymore. I can't be with you - it's too hard, too much work. And we are always fighting, and I don't want to anymore."

I was silent for a long moment, waiting for my voice to steady itself. My brain couldn't make sense of the words, but my body seemed to know that they were bad. The tears were getting ready to make their debut, my throat was trying to shut itself off. My stomach was full of ice and my heart was full of splinters.

"I don't understand. What... why... I thought you loved me?" No longer certain, just wanting to hear it.

"I did."

"Did? As in... don't anymore?"

He nodded, slowly and deliberately. I'm sure he was just anxious to get it over with and leave, but at the time I was worried he thought I was stupid for not understanding.

"I can change. What is it that you don't want anymore? I'll change it."

"No, Hannah, it's not like that... I mean, it's not something you can change. It's just... you."

Just me. The reason he was leaving me... was me. I wasn't good enough, but at the same time I was too much for him. I wasn't worth fighting for, I wasn't worth trying one more time. I wasn't even worth loving.

I was worth one shot, sex, and something to occupy the time until something better came along.

When I see him now, I don't want to cry anymore. I don't want to hit him. I don't even want to trip or punch or spill food on the girl he's with. I just see him. Like anyone else. He's there, but the feelings are gone. It's a relief to feel that way - to feel the absence of feeling, instead of the constant ache and pain and torture every day used to be filled with.

Liam. I see his flaws, I see his attributes, I see his beauty. But I don't see him as the boy I once loved, who broke me into tinier pieces than I've ever been broken into before. I don't think about the pain he caused and how it was worse than any other pain that I've ever experienced. I don't feel the love I used to feel for him. I don't really see anyone anymore. I don't really think about things anymore. And I don't feel anything anymore.

Liam.

You knew
You knew it all
Everything
More than anyone else
You knew
And you still left
You knew how I felt
You knew what I wanted
You knew that I needed you
And you still left
You left.

I knew
I knew from the start
Nothing
It was all pointless
I knew
And still I tried
I knew how you felt
I knew you didn't want it
I knew you would hurt me
And still I tried
I tried.

So there we go. I've been feeling a bit more creative than usual lately, probably because at my job I can spend six hours reading and writing and drawing and anything I want. That helps. :D

Hopefully there will be more to come, and, just as a heads up, I am planning on participating in NaNoWriMo this year, for reals. There will be updates on that. Any criticism or praise on anything in here would be awesome, guys. I know there're only like, four of you who read this, but still. ^_^ Anything to say?

erisedrhapsodic @ 2008-08-22T13:57:00

2008-08-22T18:02:26Z

Whoo hoo, eight months later! Yeah! I suck at keeping up with this thing. -_-

Soooo it's been a rough week, man. And I decided to write today, for some reason.... and this is what happened.

Prompt : FRANTIC

My mom is running around, frantic, trying to pack up half of my sister's belongings and get them and her in the car so they can leave for the 4 hour trip to Columbia College, where Bridget will be a freshman this year. It's scary, my little sister leaving for college. And it makes me feel kind of like a failure, since I'm not.

"Come ON, put your shoes on and grab that box... where's my purse, wait, do you have the cell phone?" My mom's eyes are crazy, and she's trying to brush her hair with the cell phone, while looking in the freezer for said phone. I calmly point this out to her, and she sighs with a mixture of relief and frustration.

"We should have been on the road ten minutes ago." She grumbles, collecting random items and stuffing them into bags. "I don't know what takes that child so long to get ready, Jesus..."

"She's leaving for college, Mom. I'm sure ten minutes isn't going to matter that much, but she's got to go through everything she owns and ask herself if she will need it or want it. It's a big change." I lean against the doorframe, trying to smooth my mother's frazzled nerves.

Bridget comes in then, dressed in a white button-up shirt with a sweater vest over it, and a skirt she made from an old raggedy Pink Floyd t-shirt and a bright neon green shirt. It's a pretty neat skirt to begin with, and the combination of the dressy top and the crazy bottom is purely her. Not to mention she has bright blue hair, and is covered in henna tattoos from her summer job.

"You look awesome." I tell her, trying to cram a few more books into a box full of them. "I bet you make fifty new friends today, just because they want to be associated with the crazy-awesome-blue-haired-top-hat-wearing girl."

"Thanks." She grins at me, and then meets my mother's eyes guiltily. "I'm ready now."

"You're not wearing shoes," my mom points out, grabbing one more thing from the hall closet, and just one more thing from the coffee table.

Bridget looks around for a second, then grabs a pair of my socks, reaches under the couch and pulls out two mismatched shoes. She tosses one into a crate, then opens the front door and grabs the mate to the other from the porch. "Ready!" she calls, stuffing her feet into the little black tennis shoes.

"Guys, please try not to kill each other, or anyone else. And have fun. And don't die." I hug my sister hard, trying to convey how much I will miss having her around here. She pokes me in the cheek affectionately, and pets me on the head like an animal.

"I lurves you, seestwah," she says, before picking up a box and a bag and heading out the door. My mom follows, after hugging me and giving me grocery money, and carries another bag to the car.

I stand on the porch and wave. My little sister, one of my best friends, and my only companion around here, waves back while trying to plug in her Zen, buckle her seatbelt, and straighten her skirt all at once. I see my mom say something to her that makes her throw her hands up, probably nixing the mp3 player until they're out of town. I miss her already.

Prompt : GROWL

"Look," I growled, "the point is that you said it, and you knew it would hurt my feelings."

"You were pissing me off!"

"Yeah, okay, but I wasn't doing it on purpose! You got mad at me because I was upset. What kind of sense does that make anyway?"

"I just wish you could take a compliment and just know that that's how I feel." He shook his head. "Nothing is ever good enough for you."

My mouth dropped open. "You don't even try! I mean, I know you try, but you make no attempt to understand how I feel or what is going on in my head. You know I'm crazy-"

"I know! I know you're crazy! I know you don't understand why you think the way you do! But it's hard for me, okay? It's hard for me to put up with this everyday. I don't know how much more I can handle."

I was quiet for a moment. "Am I going to lose you?"

He looked at me. "I don't know. Are you going to get mad at me for not thinking you're the most beautiful girl in the world, or not knowing if I love you or not?"

"Well, yeah! I mean, not like mad at you, but yeah, that's going to upset me! You're telling me I'm not good enough, that I'm not a sure thing. And it sucks that I feel so strongly for you and you hardly feel anything for me. I don't know how to handle that, but I don't give up on you every fight that we have."

Staring at me, he growled, "So you're mad at me for not feeling what you think I should feel?"

"I'm not mad! There's a difference between 'upset' and 'mad'."

"I can't feel whatever you want me to feel, just because you think that's how it should be."

I sat down, sighing. "I know. I'm so tired of this."

He stood there, looking like he didn't quite know what to say. His face was so lovely, but it looked so sad - had I done that? Why do I keep doing these things?

"I love you."

He met my eyes, and asked, "Really?"

I nodded.

"What if that's not good enough for me?"

"What- what do you mean?"

"Maybe I need you to actually act like you love me, instead of just saying it. Maybe I need to know for sure that you love me too much to hurt me. Because you do hurt me."

"You're the one who told your girlfriend to lose some weight and see if you think she's prettier! Am I seriously supposed to just overlook that? God, can't you even try to understand how that made me feel?"

He threw his hands in the air. "Jesus, you can't let that go!"

Outraged, I yelled, "No! I can't just 'let that go'! You took the one thing I'm most insecure about, my least favorite thing about myself, the one thing I would change about my physical appearance, and you threw it in my face! You told me 'change this and I'll love you more'! And I'm supposed to get over it?"

"I don't know. I don't know what you're supposed to do. Okay? I guess I'm just a jerk, and I don't deserve your time."

"I don't know, maybe."

He paused, and looked at me. "Really? Are you going to break up with me?"

I shrugged and said, quietly, "I'm not sure. Everyone says I should. They said it's inexcusable. I don't know what to do - I don't know if I can live without you."

His eyes were sad, but his mouth was set angrily. "I hate that you depend on me so much. Maybe we'd both be better off without each other."

My mouth wobbled. "I don't want to be without you."

"I don't either. But maybe we should."

"But... you're everything."

He looked at me with those eyes, that face that I loved so much. "Can we make this work? Do you really think we can do this?"

"I don't know. I need it. I need you."

He shook his head. "I don't know. What do we do now?"

A tear fell as I shrugged.

TINY POEM OF SUCK

I'm sorry
I know I make you crazy
And I know it isn't fun.
I'm sorry I have to ask these questions
I'm sorry you don't have answers,
At least, not the ones I want.

I'm really sorry,
Sorry that you have to put up with this.
Sorry I love you so much.
I know it's a lot of pressure.
And I'm sorry you don't feel the same.

I'm sorry.
I love you.
I'm sorry.

Yeeeah. So there's that. I haven't been writing too much lately. I started a story, and I'm so excited for the plot that I haven't been able to write it. -_- I just need to start alloting time to write specifically, since I do nothing else with my time. I dunno.

Thanks for reading, guys. :D Comments please!

Epic lameness ahead!!

2008-01-16T01:56:47Z

I've been watching you for years, now.

I've seen you grow up, break down,
Watched you overcome.
I've been there for your heartaches,
Listened to your heart break,
And you never took it for granted.

You were always there, too
Catching my heart in your mouth
Taking my tears and sharing my laughter.
I never knew real love before you.

I've been watching you for years, now.

I know what scares you, what makes you cry.
I know how much you need.
But you're not one to share.
I've had to learn the hard way.
I thought I'd never hear you say -
But you did,
And I know.
And nothing you could ever do could make me stop loving you.

Your dark dark hair
With your dark mysterious past
Makes a nice contrast
To the lightness (your eyes)
Cast into my heart.
I never knew real light before you.

I've been watching you for years, now.

Through the hardest parts, I've been there, but not.
I feel closer to you than anyone,
But still so far away.
I wish I could get in;
Hear your voice, feel your touch.
Let me know you're still there -
You're really there.

I've seen you, watched you, loved you for so long.
I only want it to continue.
Can't let you go, don't want to know
Life without you (no life at all)
I never knew real life before you.

Ironic, isn't it?

I've been watching you for years now,
But have only begun to really see.

Yeah okay, so I'm the lamest person on the planet. Stfu. ^_^ I kind of like the poem, even though it's a bit epic. Tell me what you think! PLEASE. I NEED COMMENTS! I NEED LOVE!!

James makes me write long rambling free-verse and sappy sonnets. It's weird. But at least he makes me write. <3

Perhaps that's all for now. I'll try to update again in the next month or so. XD

UPDATE! OH MY GOD IT'S THE APOCOLYPSE!

2007-10-27T12:47:39Z

Hahaha I keep up with this thing. XD I fail.

I haven't really been writing as much lately, which might be the reason for my lack of updating. Or I'm just lazy. One of those.

But! A new and frightening development - I have begun writing fanfic! I know. I was scared too. But it's okay! Most of what I have written is in the *cringes* High School Musical fandom, and ALL of it is slash. All. I think I wrote a Harry/Ron, and I'm starting a few Flight of the Conchords ones too. Perhaps I will put my fanfic here, for the three of you to read. XD Who does read this, anyway? I guess I should go look at my profile, see if I have any friends. XD

On a side-note, NaNoWriMo is approaching and I'm gonna play this year, so be prepared. Possibly a lot of random crap will spew forth from my exhausted mind when I need a break from things that make sense. Possibly a lot of that will be slash. No, no possibly. It WILL be slash. XD

I am off to write something now, so that I might actually give you guys something to read.

PS - I forgot about all the icons I had in this journal! THAT MEANS MORE SPACE OMGWTF WHOOOO.

PPS - oh man, and my mood theme! I have to FOTCify it now. ^_^

This is kinda lame and kinda sucks, but 'tev.

2007-06-25T07:55:41Z

Would that I could spend the whole night through
Lying in bed, naked, next to you.
Would that the night was a hundred hours more
As then I'd not have to go through your door.

Were that we were old enough to marry
For deep and complete is the love I carry.
Were that the future was ascertained
For then decisions might not be so pained.

If only we had the freedom and the means
For living together would be so keen.
If only things were perfect and ne'er did we fight
Although this is wonderful and feels so right.

I fear the eminent end of all of this
I fear the lost passion in your kiss.
I fear your eyes may no longer draw me in
I fear your heart someone else may win.

Silly, I know, stupid and dull.
I suppose what I really fear is a lull.
A lull in our passion and thirst for forever
Perhaps that we aren't meant to be together.

Would that you would ask me tonight
A ring and a dinner and everything right.
Would that you felt as strongly as I
And could see it when you met my eyes.

Do you love me wholly and as true;
Do you love me as fully as I love you?
Does your heart swell when I walk into the room?
Does it, when I leave, sink down into gloom?

When you're near me nothing is amiss,
And all my sadness dissipates with your kiss.
Thus I know not how I'll stem the stream of dispair
Sure to show if one day you suddenly aren't there.

Josie

2007-06-13T06:57:18Z

I first met Josie in Barnes and Noble, in the fiction section. I was holding a copy of Catcher in the Rye and she told me it was one of her favorite books. She was holding A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, which is one of my favorites, and I told her so. She laughed at the coincidence and struck up a conversation with me about what sort of books, movies, and music we both liked. We had a lot in common.
I remember that first day so clearly, how she spoke, how she stood, how she grabbed my hand to lead me away like I already belonged to her. Her tinkly laughter, the authority with which she told me her favorite things were the best, and when it turned out they were my favorites too, the light in her brilliantly green eyes. She was something special, all right.

"Adam, are you ever going to be ready? You take longer than I do." Josie's impatient foot-tapping was accompanied by another rap on the bathroom door. I ran my fingers through my hair once more, making sure every dark curl was messy and random. I opened the door.
"Aw, you look so cute! Let's go, I'm starving, and everyone else is already there!" Grabbing my hand, as was her habit, she pulled me to the living room, handed me my coat and hat, and led the way out the front door.
The first gust of icy wind cut through all my layers in an instant, and we ran down the apartment steps to the car. She wrenched open the driver's side and quickly unlocked mine, and we huddled over the heaters for a minute before driving off.
When we arrived at Julio's, "everyone else" was waiting for us - Mary (Josie's best friend) and Ben, and Jill and Dan (my best friend). Sitting around our usual table, it seemed like such an ordinary night. But it was a night that would change everything.

It was a month after we met that I finally got up the courage to ask Josie out. We'd exchanged numbers that day in the bookstore, and she called me the day after that, wanting to have lunch. She said she'd enjoyed talking about our likes so much, we'd never gotten around to dislikes. "There's this whole other dark side of you that I don't know! How can you keep me in such suspense?" And I couldn't.
We saw each other nearly every day after that, and one day I just took a breath and blurted it out. "Josie, I really like you, do you want to be my girlfriend?" And a pause. "Please?"
She just looked at me with those eyes, her perpetually pink lips parted. "I thought I already was." And with that she threw her arms around my neck and kissed me, hard, on the lips.
Everyone says that's just about the cutest story they've ever heard. But she was just like that. She was magical, and she transformed everything around her into something special.

We sat down in our seats, shedding our coats and scarves and hats. Dan hit me on the shoulder and said, "You and your stupid hair, keeping us waiting for so long. And I bet the wind screwed it up anyway."
"Actually, the wind made it look better." I replyed, a bit snippily. I was touchy about my hair.
"Then you should have just skipped the routine and the hat and let the wind do all the work!"
Everyone laughed, but Josie ran her hands through my hair lovingly. "I think he has the greatest hair in the world. I love it. It's so much sexier than, say, boring blond shaggy hair." Exactly Dan's hairstyle. She always knew what to say.
We ordered our food and turned the talk to less murder-worthy things, like what new bands we were digging. Dan and Ben were in a band together, along with two other guys, called Truncated Symphony. They were mostly punkish rock with "mellow, inspiring lyrics" as Dan put it. He played bass, Ben was the singer and lead guitarist, and their drummer, Nick, was a pretty neat guy. Keyboardist Josh was some new kid who I didn't know very well, but who seemed really nice and kind of shy. I think he and Dan collaborated on the lyrics, which would explain some things.
Mary was a poet and a writer, and she'd actually had some stuff published in magazines here and there. Jill was a singer/songwriter/guitarist who played a lot of coffee-shop-open-mikes. She was actually pretty good, and had a bit of a following. More angsty-rocker-chick than indie-guitar-chick, she was constantly in search of a band who would be willing to back her.
Josie was a painter. She could draw the most amazing sketches you've ever seen, and when she painted them they nearly blew your mind. I had her paint a self-portrait once, and she copied a photo of the two of us. We're at the park, lying back in the grass, looking into each other's eyes. It was right as I told her I loved her for the first time, and Jill had snapped a picture, unknowingly catching our most beautiful moment. When Josie painted it for me, she painted the whole thing, and somehow she put emotions into it. I could feel her heart swelling with joy, and I could feel my own nervousness, shot through with elation. I could sense the oncoming kiss, the tingling in her extremities, the warmth from our bodies colliding.
That painting is probably still hanging in our bedroom.

That night was fun, as hanging out with good friends should be, but between too many beers and a heated argument between Ben and Josie over who rocked more, Deathcab for Cutie or the Postal Service, I was worried about her. She seemed too tense and maybe a bit drunk. I told her I was going to drive and she refused. "It's my car, and you can't drive a stick, and I am fine. I promise. It's not that far, anyway."
I should have forced the keys from her hand, or called a cab, or made someone take us home. I should never have let her get into that car.
"Ben is such a stuck-up know-it-all since he and Dan started their band... just because he plays music doesn't mean he knows everything about it! Or even more than I do. I know a lot about music. And Deathcab and the Postal Service are both fronted by the same guy! Ben... something. God, Ben is a jerk sometimes. I don't know how mary puts up with his crap everyday. I'd probably -"
"Honey, don't you think you should concentrate on the road? It's icy, and the wind's picking up even more."
"I can drive, okay? I'm just so tired of people acting like they're better than me!"
"I'm not trying to, babe. I love you, I'm sorry."
She sighed, and loosened her grip on the wheel. "I'm sorry too. I love you, and I didn't mean to yell at you. I'm just frustrated with everything right now. My job, my friends, my painting... my parents. My car. Everything."
"Me?"
She cast me a quick smile, so warm and genuine I couldn't even have thought to question her. "Of course not you, sweetie. You're the one thing in my life that is perfect."
As she leaned over to kiss me, I saw a flash of light and heard the blaring of a horn. The next thing I knew was pain beyond pain, indescribable torturous blinding pain. I heard a scream, a crash-crunching sort of sound, and then nothing.

When I woke up, my first thought was "Everything is so bright and cold... where is Josie?" My second thought was along the lines of "JESUS CHRIST JOSIE IS SHE OKAY WHAT HAPPENED OH MY GOD AM I OKAY WHERE IS JOSIE JOSIE I LOVE YOU ARE YOU ALL RIGHT HOLY CRAP." Which is what I tried to say, but couldn't get my mouth to work.
Dan appeared in my vision. "Hey, guys, he's awake! Dude, Adam, can you hear me? Can you speak?"
I looked at him as Jill, Mary, and Ben appeared. They all murmured some sort of "Hi, how are you doing?" and Mary took my hand, eyes full of tears. I stared at her, hard.
She met my eyes.
She nodded, and dissolved into tears anew.
I closed my eyes, and someone yelled for a nurse. A loud beeping was ringing in my ears, but all I could think was "She can't be dead. Something happened, but she can't be dead."

When I opened my eyes, a nurse was leaning over me, adjusting something. She glanced down.
"Oh, you're awake! Welcome back."
I grunted urgently about Josie. "Is she okay?"
"Your friends won't be back until tomorrow. You had a little scare with your heart, there."
"JOSIE. IS SHE OKAY?"
The nurse looked at me, my eyes pleading. "Your friend, Josie. She... well, honey, let me tell you what happened. A truck hit your car, because you both skidded on a patch of ice. It was no one's fault, really, although she shouldn't have been driving. But the truck driver is okay, and you'll be okay, once all your bones heal up. You broke both legs, an arm, fractured your wrist, crushed a lung, and broke your jaw. You're lucky, though. Your friend... she got the full impact of the crash."
At this, I started crying and shaking my head violently, which hurt a lot but I didn't care. The nurse goes on anyway.
"She's dead, sweetie. I'm sorry."
And with that, she leaves me to my grief.

Mind-numbing aloneness. Painfully aware that every memory you have will be forever tainted by the fact that no more are in the making. Lost love, so young, so beautiful. In the blink of an eye, it's gone. Nothing to live for without Josie. She was my everything. She was the magic in life, and I know I can't live without her. She was all that was good in me, and all that was worth living for. She was the world to me.

I reach for the oxygen tube thing that is keeping me alive. I rip out all the lines and wires and tubes from my body, and the bittersweet breath of death rushes closer. How short a time one can live without oxygen, I muse. I see Josie's face and reach for it. I'm coming, baby. Wait for me.

Comment pleeeease. I'd love some kind of feedback - I actually sort of like this one. O_o

A few more poems... kinda suckful.

2007-05-06T06:22:47Z

I don't know if anyone feels the way I do
Sometimes I think it's all just a dream
But not my dream - I myself am a figment
Of someone else's imagination
I can't remember the last time I felt real
Or infinite or in the moment
I treasure the small things
Driving my sister around
Listening to good music
Smelling the sea on the spring breeze
But where does it all get me?
What good will it do me?
I get enjoyment from many small things
But is it too much to ask
Just once
For something to go right
And turn out in my favor
Without me having to see the silver lining?
Couldn't, for once, the whole cloud be silver?.

Your face still haunts my dreams
Your scent still lingers in my seams
I wish you would let me be
If you don't want to be with me.
I've waited a long time to know
To have what we had, long ago
It seems ages have passed since we parted
You are free and I am broken-hearted
I hope this is what you wanted, dear
Because I am alone and unwanted here

Comments, anyone? Please? ^_^ I'd like someone else's opinion, especially if it's "YOU SUCK STOP WRITING YOU'RE A DISGRACE EW." ^^; Yaaaaayyyy.

I don't know how I feel about this...

2007-05-02T04:45:16Z

Tawny skin
Desire within
Sweat drips down
Cries ring out
As good as it gets
So happy we met
Gripping and grasping
Moaning and gasping
Feelings unwanted
Churnings afronted
Can't let it out
But I want to shout
I want more
I want more
This isn't enough anymore
But what can I do?
I want to keep you
You don't want me
So this is how it must be.

Tell me what you think, peoples.

Stories, this time.

2007-04-28T09:56:43Z

This was really hard for me to write because I had to remember. It's much much shorter than the next one, and much more personal. And less essayish, more lettery.

Years of damage. Years and years of pain and shame and embarrassment and disgust. Years of hiding it and shoving the memories further under my bed, until they're actually shoved out the other side, into the open.

Why, all of a sudden, did this hit me? Why, out of nowhere, did the memory of what you did come rushing down on top of me? Why now?

I was ten years old. Ten. Barely a person, let alone a woman. How sick are you, that you would defile such a pure and innocent creature? Taking away the innocence in one swift... taking away my purity forever. That was not meant for you.

I did not give you permission to take away my firsts. I did not give you permission to tear away the walls of family and pursue something ugly and unnatural. I did not give you permission to permanently mess with my brain and emotions and connect everything that should be pleasurable to immense pain and torture.

You should not have had power over me. I should not feel shame when I feel desire for a man. I should not have to remember things like I remember.

My first boyfriend broke my heart by comparing me to another girl. He was the first one I ever truly loved. He was the first boy to ever really care for me, but now I have to question - did he care? If he did, why would he have hurt me so? In such a different way than you, but it stung nonetheless.

My second boyfriend lasted much longer, and was much more serious. I loved him as well, and he was good. He was kind and sweet and loved me. But he began to neglect me, to hurt me, and it scared me. I was afraid he would hurt me like you hurt me. So in defense, I hurt him. I lost my fear of lust, and began to use it in my defense. I felt pretty. I felt wanted. But I hurt the man I loved in the process, and he eventually left.

Boys have come and gone, and I have loved them all in different ways. None of them have made me feel sick like you did, which is a blessing. But none of them made me feel the way that first boy did, either. My first love, my first man - he should have been my first everything. He should be here right now. But, thanks mainly to you, he is not. He found his firsts elsewhere, whereas mine were stolen. He found my love unnerving, because I was so afraid to be hurt again.

I should not have known such pain so early, or ever. You should not have caused it. I should not have let it run my life, but what else could I do? Burying the pain didn't work. Hiding the shame didn't, either. There's nothing left but the fear, the fear of the pain. I'm afraid to get close because I know inevitably, pain will follow. I'm not sure which sort of pain, but either way, I don't want it. Especially your kind.

You disgust me, and you've made me disgusted with myself. Worse, you've made me afraid of something that should be so beautiful and amazing, and for that I can never forgive you. For your sporadic, short moments of pleasure, I have been cursed with years and years of damage.

And another!

2007-04-28T09:52:15Z

I know no one even wants to hear about this stuff anymore, but I had to write about it. So why not post it here?

This one's a bit long, and it gets a little preachy at the end, but I was just ranting and rambling. Whatever. ^_^

Spending a night in jail is a terrible thing all around, no matter why you're there. I have spent two nights in two different prisons, with two very different reactions. I am one up on Thoreau, but that is not something I really brag about - I just like that I can make the reference. Although my experiences with prison have been scarring and life-sapping, they've taught me some things and opened my eyes to others.

My first arrest was looked on as an adventure. At the end of my senior year in high school, one of my "friends" and I got into a sort of disagreement. She started talking badly about me, although she wouldn't talk TO me, and no matter what I tried, she would not explain what I had done to make her dislike me so. And, since it was a stupid fight over stupid things, and me having tendencies to be, well, stupid - I keyed her car. I didn't think anything would come of it, or at most, I would be suspended from school. But no, she (more like her mother) decided to press charges and have me arrested. Not only did I have to spend a night in jail and pay them $990 dollars, plus the $460 to get out of jail, but also I was expelled, thus failed my math class (which in all truthfulness would have happened anyway), thus didn't get to graduate, and thus had to attend summer school. But I did all that, my parents less than pleased, and even started college in the fall.

The actual arrest took a long time to happen. The car-keying happened in late May, and I wasn't arrested until a month later. The cops came to my house all unexpected-like, and I got to be handcuffed and put in the back of the car and everything. I was taken to the local police station, where they patted me down at my request - I wanted the whole experience - and took all my jewelry and my hoodie and everything. Let me tell you something about prison: it is COLD. I was freezing the whole time. Eventually, they took me and some random drunk woman to an armored truck and we headed over to the big, hard-core, extreme prison.
We had quite a wait, having to take a shower (thankfully a private one, although short and embarrassing) and get into our orange jumpsuits, and take our "mug shots" for our security wristbands. Unfortunately, I didn't get to keep anything from this adventure, but my sister went to Chicago later in the summer and brought me back an orange shirt that says "Chicago County Jail" on it. After all this, though, we were led to a cell in which there were already four sleeping women, and limited floor space. I spent the night curled up between the toilet and the wall, in the doorway.

This prison was very high-security, with steel doors and thick glass partitions; however, none of this was thick enough to block out the screaming. Screaming and threatening of this insane woman a few cells over, perhaps. She woke me by banging on the doors and walls and whatnot with what sounded like her whole body, and screaming insults and threats at the guards. She was the most terrifying thing I have ever witnessed, because I was already scared out of my mind, and she was just the last straw. However, through this whole thing, I did not cry - I just shut it all out and slept. That's all there is to do in jail, after all.
I thought I was through with all of this after I got out and paid the girl and everything, but no. See, I sort of practice Buddhism, to the extent that I try to lead a good life and treat people nicely, and I believe that I am a good person. I am nice, and I do good things for no reason, and I am genuinely pained to see other people being mean or having someone be mean to them. I want to resolve everything between everyone, to make everyone happy. But some people just won't let you do that.

I saw this girl again, nearly a year after all this happened, and I decided to talk to her. Maybe after all this time, she would be adult enough to forgive and forget, and move on. We were almost nineteen, and I saw no reason why we shouldn't be able to get past this. So I did. And needless to say, she didn't want to talk - but I had been sitting on all of this for a year, and there were some things I wanted to say to her, and being me (read: stupid) I stood in front of her open car door and prevented her from leaving - until she backed up over me, that is.

Again, I thought that was that - I chalked it up to her being childish and just plain mean, and went on my way. Until about four days later, when the police called me and told me that she had taken out a warrent for my arrest, the charge being harrassment. Again.

The cop told me that if I came in and turned myself in early in the afternoon, I could make the three o'clock bond hearing and be out that day, so I did that. I thought, "Okay, I'll go get arrested and then go to my best friend's birthday party." When I got to the main police department for our town, I figured I'd just be sitting in a cell for a couple of hours and then I'd just have to pay the bond and be on my way. Unfortunately, they told me halfway through the day that I had to spend the night. Apparently this girl wanted to be at the hearing, and she couldn't make the three o'clock, so I had to wait until nine the next morning. Which sucked especially because my parents had no idea that I was even being arrested again. So I called my sister and she told my parents I was staying at a friend's house, and then she called that friend to tell her that 1) I wasn't coming to her birthday party, and 2) she needed to lie if she was called or anything. It was annoying, yes, but I also was wracked with the guilt of missing the party and making my friend lie for me, and also the fear of my parents finding out and being even more disappointed in me.

I spent the whole night shivering on a cold, hard bench, with just a crack-whore for company, agonizing over whether I had enough money for my bond, whether they would make me stay in jail longer, whether my parents would find out, and hurting over the fact that I was here instead of in my bed at home with my family, all because this girl hates me. All over a stupid mistake a year ago.

Screaming seems to be a staple of the prison life. All night, someone has to be threatening and yelling for the officers, sobbing, or babbling nonsense. None of this is reassuring. None of this makes the scene any less scary or sad - it adds to it, in fact. Except in retrospect, if you have a talent for turning anything into a hilarious adventure, which apparently, I do.
I ended up having to come back to court a few days later, which enabled me to go to a concert with my family the day I got out of jail, and to which we were all looking forward. My sentence was either 14 days in jail, or pay them $464, and thank all the gods to whom I'd been praying, I had it. Now I have a restraining order against me, which kind of sucks, but then again, I don't really care anymore.

Being in jail is the single most terrifying thing that has happened to me, and no matter the stories I get from it, no matter the sick sort of humor that my friends and I derive from it, it's still one of the worst things imaginable. No one can really know what it is like until you are there. You might say, "Ah, well, I could handle it! I can block out noise and I'm never cold - I'd be fine." But you're wrong. It's just an overall horrific experience, and I tried desperately to block it all out. I created an Oval of Peace that went all around me, and concentrated on just drawing that oval over and over again, but somehow the screaming and clanking of the doors broke through. The cold metal of the handcuffs, the feeling of being treated like scum - these things stick with you. I have the marks on my ankles from the shackles, and I have the icy fear in my stomach at the thought of being sent back. I've never done anything really terrible in my life - keying a car? That's the extent of my life of crime, except for the occasional (and accidental) shoplifting. I try to be a good person, and look where it gets me. I was locked up for trying to make amends with a former friend.

I have lost my faith in the justice system, in karma, in anything that is supposed to take care of the good people and punish the bad. I make one lousy mistake and it ruins my life, basically, because this girl hates me. If someone had keyed my car, you know what I would have done? Made them pay for it, at the most. It sickens me to think that a crappy, ten-year-old car was worth more to her than my friendship. Also, it sickens me more to think that now I have two arrests on my record for virtually nothing, and she was made out to look like a victim. Like I hurt her in some way. My own parents are severely disappointed in me, I am out over $2000, I've been jailed twice, and all she had to deal with was some scratches on her car. She got a new one anyway, and it's not like I smashed all her windows and slashed her tires and filled her gas tank with sand. I didn't actually harm the car at all - she could have driven it like that. It wouldn't even have cost that much to be fixed. Our justice system is severely flawed, and it is a tragedy that there's nothing anyone can do.

I wish I could make some sort of difference in the government, but everyone has to answer to someone, and it would take millions of people to bring about the change I'm talking about. The country, as it's being run right now, is not going to listen. The Republicans and the crazy uber-Christians and the old white men who hate change - none of them are going to back up any new ideas. None of them will support a no-war, charity-driven, do-good, listen-to-the-people, clean-up-our-country-and-leave-others-alone campaign, but that's what I want. That is what I want to bring to the United States. I have been a victim of the flaws of our country, and I want them eradicated. I want something to be done.

And I want to do it.

Sorry it's soooo long. And boring. ^_^

Bonsoir.

2007-04-26T07:24:10Z

Aloha people. I already have a LiveJournal for my friends/life/thoughts etc, but I am a writer and decided that I wanted one for my writing specifically. Even if no one else reads it, it's collected on the internet for me to look at, and in case my computer implodes, I still have a copy online. Whoooo. Plus I just wanted to make a new LJ.

Soooo I guess I will post some writing. Bear in mind I am a pathetic romantic girl who loves too much and too hard, and I get kinda soppy and cliche sometimes. O_o But it happens. And some of my stuff is purely stream-of-consciousness-in-poem-form. Ish.

When the shadows of the moon have shifted once again
Then the inevitable changes can finally begin
It runs a river through the veins
Passion and love mixed with pain
It takes so long to make it right
But when it at long last takes flight
Nothing else could ever take its place
The comfort of a lover's warm embrace
Coupled with the melded minds
Like two souls 'ere entwined
Puzzle pieces in each others' arms
Held close and far from harm
Only when the shadows flee
Can you finally belong to me
Not just in soul and spirit and mind
You're bound to me for all of time
But when our personalities align
Your body and heart will be all mine.

-- Written a year or so ago, for some silly boy.

As the color drains from the day
That is when I make my escape
From everyone and everything
From you, from me, from all the pain
The sky mimics my desire
To sometimes set myself on fire
And sometimes sink into the sea
To be anything at all but me
Nothing else describes how I feel
Because I, in fact, am not real
The sky is a facade like me
What it is, no one can see
But if you listen to the wind
You hear is sing “Make me whole again”
Give me strength and help me grow
How can I carry on? I do not know
I need something more, something new
Maybe that missing piece is you.

-- Written a year or so ago, for a different silly boy. (He wasn't, btw)

Those are probably my best poems that I have available, so please comment and tell me what you think. I gladly accept new friends and comments from random people who feel like reading my stuff. ^_^