| Nauseating Nostalgia |
[Mar. 1st, 2009|11:50 am] |
To think it was just two months ago I was in Hollywood, at that very spot, pan handling for cash with you by my side. Angry and broken and tired and hungry and sick. And it was just last night, that I was walking down that same dirty sidewalk, in front of the Pantageous Theatre, civilized and stepping inside, going to see a play (musical, really) without you.
(to be cont'd.) |
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| Roses fall in love.... |
[Aug. 28th, 2008|02:44 pm] |
| [ | Lost Here |
| | No where. Everywhere. | ] |
| [ | Feelin' A Little Bit |
| |  nauseated | ] |
| [ | La Musica |
| | Alphabet Town--Elliott Smith | ] |
Ohgod. I've slipped again. I wake with one thought in mind.
"I wish I could sleep."
Which turns to thoughts of how the only sound sleep I get is with my heavenly hero(in). But I can't have the hero, so I have to settle for the greater(?) of two evils.
"I still have a little bit left.."
Not enough for a full on high, but maybe I can sleep. Maybe.
Cooked up in a dirty can, soaked up in a dirty needle. Plunged into a dirty vein, slows down my higher brain.
"I think I can, I think I can, I think I can..."
turns into
"I know I can, I know I can, I know I can."
And sweet sweet waves wash over my nonexistant soul and I am finally whole again. I can sleep again.
"I can do this without you."
And it's gone.
"I can't do this without you."
You don't want me.
And I've slipped again. |
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| Who was I? Who am I? |
[Aug. 27th, 2008|04:53 pm] |
God, I'm looking at previous posts and I really have to wonder just who I was at that point in time. This girl is a stranger. The words are mine, but why did I say them? I can honestly say that each day, I learn something new about myself. I become a little more whole. Almost a year has gone by and I'm quite positive I've gained 10x the wisdom that I had before. I hate that person I used to be. So caught up in things that wouldn't even come close to mattering today.
Updated facts about myself:
1. My therapist is right, I do seek failure, but not for the reasons she created.
2. I have horrible self-esteem problems.
3. I'm in love with love.
4. I have a very low tolerance for the things around me.
5. Elliott Smith will forever be my favorite.
6. It takes very little to make me happy and that's still asking for too much.
7. I'm an optimistic pessimist and a masochistic nymphomaniac.
8. I love milk and cookies.
9. I talk way too much.
10. I wouldn't want to be anybody else.
Current vices:
1. Elliott Smith
2. Cigarettes
3. H & coke
4. Solo adventures
5. Caring too much
6. Not caring at all
7. Social situations with tolerable people (ie. John!!! And of course my Sexy Bex ;])
8. Being alone
9. Endangering myself
10. The boy that's everything that I shouldn't and can't have. (For real this time.) |
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| Just Friends... |
[Mar. 25th, 2008|08:19 pm] |
| [ | Feelin' A Little Bit |
| |  confused | ] |
| [ | La Musica |
| | Postal Service | ] |
"I guess I just don't like you as much as I thought I did."
Who knew a five second ride in one car to the next would hold so much tension? Is that where you found it most acceptable to tell me that you wanted to be just friends? Jesus, when will you learn to grow up?
I didn't expect this to go anywhere, so I can't say that I was heartbroken, just downhearted, because I was hoping for at least a little more than just friends. I didn't want commitment, I didn't want marriage, I didn't want three kids. I just wanted to be touched, to be kissed, to be held the way my body wants to be held. I have been just friends for too damn long and just once I want to know how it feels to be more. I got thirty minutes of leather seats and heavy breathing and what do I have to show for it? I'm sorry if my words were misleading, but you know what? The intimate caress of your fingers tips against my skin is misleading, and now that I've actually had it I'm not sure if I want to go without it. But maybe you can't understand where I'm coming from, because you don't see me like that. Fuck. What does this chick that you have been pining after for God knows how long and she has rejected you that much more, have that I don't possess? That you can see her fake smile, fake hair, and fake personality as worthwhile? Go ahead and forget whispered conversations and the feel of my tongue. Friends don't do those things anyway. I'm not sure if I want to cry, because that would show that I actually gave two shits, but I sure as hell am not over it. I can't verify this feeling in my gut, or this pounding in my heart, but it feels oddly familiar to how I felt with your body so close to mine. Strange how things work out. I want it to be known that casual is okay with me, but now that these ill-feelings have intertwined themselves in my mind, I'm not sure if that would be a good idea. Damn. I could feel you slipping through my fingers, but I chose to overlook it. I didn't think someone like you could work so fast. I really really really just want to be okay like I've told everyone else I was, but I'm not sure if that's an option. God, this is probably one of these times I could use you by my side, but unfortunately that's not an option either. Sometimes I say things I don't necessarily mean, but I guess I didn't make that clear. And I have a real problem, because I'm not sure if it's necessarily you that I'm so upset over or just the words that you said. You don't like me as much as you thought you did. What does that even mean? That you only liked me when things were exciting? That you realized how annoying I actually was? That you decided you didn't like my hair, my smile, my laugh, my lips, my hips, my eyes? What? Am I now boring and my conversation not as intriguing as you once thought? Or maybe you realized my personality fit better with the just friends catagory. But we never really got to find out did we?
Enough. I wish I could say I'm done, but I just don't think I am. I know there's something I'm missing, and I really want to make it better, but I can still be that girl. And if I can't then maybe you're right. We're better off as just friends. |
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| Was it real? |
[Mar. 23rd, 2008|07:50 am] |
| [ | Feelin' A Little Bit |
| |  hopeful | ] |
| [ | La Musica |
| | Postal Service | ] |
"I really want to kiss you right now...is that weird?"
God...I can't sleep and my heart feels like it's on fire. These things never happen to me. And not in the perfect way to the perfect music at the perfect time. It couldn't have happened. Your hand was sweaty in my and I tried to keep my eyes closed as you stared at my face. Then...you did what I never thought you would do. What if I had said no? Of course I didn't...of course I wanted it just as much as you if not more. You leaned forward against the center console and your lips touched mine for the first time. I didn't know what to feel. We laughed because it was clumsy and the angle was insane, but I kissed you again. And you smiled and I held your hand with both of mine and you stared again. My stomach had never felt so light and my body never felt so hot and your teeth bumped mine and we held it longer, but I couldn't help thinking about how bad I was. And you laughed with me and we blamed it on the center console as you climbed with me into the passenger seat. How we both fit there I will never know, but I never felt so comfortable in my life. You held me close and touched my hair and kissed me again and again, and again and again I loved your touch. I asked you if this was real and you said you didn't know. You told me about a dream you had and I told you about mine and we laughed again. I love your laugh, and I love your intimacy and I still don't believe it happened. We must have stayed there for at least an hour before we climbed out on clumsy legs. We went back to your place and ate cereal and watched Cops as our arms gently grazed on the couch. I couldn't stop staring. I wanted to kiss you again, but I was worried that you already regretted it, and your dad was in the next room. We left for a final time and in the close vicinities of his dark room, I wanted you worse than ever before. But people were around and they still didn't know. I wonder if they knew you liked me at all. We left and I held you as we said goodbye and the drive home was as lonely as I thought it would be with only thoughts of you for comfort.
I can't help but wonder if you're thinking about me, or if you regret the whole thing. Did the clumsiness of my kisses throw you off? I can't stop thinking about it and I want you here and I'm already wishing I didn't have to move. I don't know what to say except, I like you, and it wasn't weird at all. I will always welcome your kiss. |
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| In times like these.... |
[Mar. 3rd, 2008|10:27 pm] |
It's over before it began.
What happen to the sweet boy I once knew? I'm not even sure who I'm talking about anymore. Did he even exist? This always happens to me. Goodbye to the times I sang to you in the car, goodbye to your welcome of my touch. Goodbye to all of the things I thought you were. I'd miss you if I could remember.
For now the battle is over and I trudge home with a white flag in my hand. But I don't feel defeated, I feel betrayed. I could have won the war if my plans weren't behind enemy lines. It's done now, and there's nothing I can do. And I hate feeling this numb. I hate it more than any amount emotion. I want to be happy without feeling this void. Nothing is complete, but I don't have the will, time, or energy to keep going.
Right now I just wish I knew what you were thinking. Maybe then I could understand where I went wrong. Right now I wish I didn't feel so dulled. I wish I knew what you saw in her, or what possessed this drastic change.
Why are you suddenly judging me, when I fell for the boy who accepted me for who I was? Why are you pushing me so far away, when I just had to you so close to my grasp? Why do you hate my presence? Why do you hate my touch? Why do you hate my gaze? Why do I not care anymore?
I guess I only cared about the boy who cared. Not this new figure who settles for less, conforms to childish relationships, and who holds himself in such a high heir. I don't even recognize your smile anymore. I loved your smile.
Fuck being poetic. Fuck talking in riddles. I just don't know. |
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| And now I pray. |
[Feb. 29th, 2008|06:09 pm] |
I don't know what to do anymore. I'm soooo fucking dramatic. God, oh Lord, if you're up there, down there, anywhere, what do I do? What what what do I do?
Have I ever felt this way?
Have I every cried like that?
For these stupid reasons I can't explain?
What the hell is going on?
I hate this. I hate feeling so empty, because I never feel as full as I do when I'm with him. My oh my...how did it happen? I just want to be a part of him and when I'm not I feel useless. Worthless. But I guess those other girls have more worth than me. The girls with the blond hair and the 2 dimensional personalities. Sure they're nice, and easy to make to make small talk with, but they're just so...normal. And I can't stand normal. I don't comprehend how he can.
But I've probably blown it all, because I've never come off as datable, have I? Nope, I'm just the weird chick with her sexual innuendos and obnoxious personality. That's not somebody you can see raising a family with, is it? Probably not. But I guess he'll never know the me beneath me. The me in the middle of the night when my voice is low and my thoughts are clear. The one that wants the stupid conventional life with the white wedding, four kids, and golden retriever. Of course, I really don't want that. But I really do want the hillside wedding and the kids and probably the dog. I just don't want the Stepford home, where all I do is stay inside, clean, and bake cookies.
God...he will never know the sensitive me, the loving me, the generous me. Only the idiotic me, because who knows when we'll get to talk(talk) again. Who knows when I'll get to see him smile(smile) again. When he'll touch(touch) me again. When our legs will graze gently against each others and my heart will speed up, my face will flush, and he'll give me that smile of his and look up(down?) at me through his long blond hair and I'll want to so much to touch his face just to make sure he's real and I'll know that he could move his leg anytime he wants, but he doesn't want to. And maybe this time I won't be so afraid to do what my body wants so much to and maybe he'll want to as much as I do and everything will be okay.
I've always been such a dreamer...
But maybe when we're in the library on Monday something will spark again. Maybe he'll remember all those things in me he found so intriguing. Maybe he'll remember why he wanted to drive me home that night or why he chose to spend the whole day with just me when he could have been spending it with somebody else. Of course, maybe I was just delusional. Where did I go wrong? Did I come off as too clingy, too weird, too much like all those other creepy-ass girls that have crushes on him?
All I can hope is that I can prove him wrong. That while we're whispering in the close vicinities of the the library desk and our faces our so close they're almost touching and we can feel each word that exits our lips, he'll realize that he's wanted me all along.
But Jesus...I hate it when my whole body boils and my heart pounds at just the anticipation of a quick hello. At just knowing that, if even for a second, our eyes were only focused on each other. I'm such a stupid girl.
I may not be perfect. I may not go to church every sunday and youth group every wednesday and I may not pray every night or carry my Bible with me everywhere I go, but I that doesn't always prove a good person. The last girl that he had did all(most..) of those things, and I'm sure that she had already done way "worse" things than I have. And what happened? She turned out to be like every other girl. And if there's one thing that I can guarantee, it is that I'm definitely not like every girl.
I am Jamie Sullivan without the leukemia and the Christianity. Never kissed, never drank, never smoked, never wears makeup. You can't get more simple than that. And isn't that what he said he wanted? Or was he just full of shit?
I may not be perfect, but who the hell really is?
God, how I want him. I hate how stupid I act sometimes. I hate how he would rather spend time talking with those other girls than me. I hate how he seems so reluctant to speak to me. Please don't fade away...I need you too much. It sounds so silly, and I'll probably be over this in a few months, but I don't ever want to be over it. I always want to be under this stupid wave of emotion that fills my lungs until I can't breathe, until I sink deep deep down and can't break the surface.
Please don't let me drown. |
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| hfjkehwigkj |
[Feb. 24th, 2008|11:06 am] |
| [ | Feelin' A Little Bit |
| |  melancholy | ] |
| [ | La Musica |
| | Remnants of yesterday's sad song.... | ] |
I really really really don't know what it takes to feel okay. I should be fine. I shouldn't have these irrational thoughts or feel like an animal trapped in a corner, but I do. And I want to see him so bad it hurts. I need to see that beautiful smile of his. I need to see his bright blue eyes and the way they crinkle when he laughs. I love when he looks at me and says something completely irrelevant, because at least I know he was looking at me. I love his blond leg hair and that adoring gap between his teeth. I love how completely real he is and how I can talk to him and know that he's listening and know that he can talk to me back . But it seems so completely impossible at the same time. I just want him to know that I only want to know him and I want to know that he wants me. But it feels like that's never going to happen, because my expectations are always too high and life isn't like a movie. And maybe there will never be that moment where I look up at him and know what's going to happen, for that stuff never happens to me.
I don't know anymore.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
And I hate how yesterday was shit and how I couldn't control anything. I hate my crappy driving and that I couldn't make Becca feel better. I hate my sense of direction and my stupid aloofness when he walks by. God, I am stupid. I am way too uncomfortable for my own good. I haven't relaxed since the other night and this much tension could kill someone. All I want to do is love and be loved and be free and not have to meet anyones expectations. But that's always too much to ask for. The way he stroked my hair was too friendly and I wanted so desperately to feel at ease as he sat next to me. And I wanted to talk to him and be reassured that everything was going to be okay. But instead I left knowing what awaited me at home, and not knowing if he even cared.
Just let it be okay. If there was anything you have ever done for me Lord, just let it be okay. |
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| so wrong it's right. |
[Feb. 12th, 2008|10:02 pm] |
| [ | Feelin' A Little Bit |
| | confused | ] |
| [ | La Musica |
| | The Background--Third Eye Blind | ] |
It's been one of those days
I can't think straight
Nothing I say makes sense
I don't even know how to properly count to ten
Or remember the rules to my favorite game
It could be from lack of food
Sleep
Or him
I can't help but be sick to my stomach with this awful feeling of not remembering how I felt, but somehow knowing I want to feel like that forever. All we did was talk, but we might as well have had a one-night-stand with how awkward I felt. Did I really act like that? Did I really say those things? Does he want to see me again? Is he thinking about me? What if I blew it?
And then the five second conversation as if we were just acquaintinces. That wasn't me with the witty banter or the casual contact. If I am no longer the girl who stayed out until 3:30 am just talking to you, what am I? |
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| What the fuck is perfect? |
[Jan. 1st, 2008|04:41 pm] |
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I want to...destroy something. I want to hurt. I want to be physically hurt. I want to stop feeling so angry. I don't know why I'm angry, but I want my insides to stop hurting. I'm so angry. I want a shower. I want to rid myself of these toxins building up in my body. I hate how useless I feel. How incomplete I feel. I hate how I wish I could feel pain. I just want to feel something other than blind frustration. Please help me. Please, please save me. I just need my medicine. I haven't taken it in days. I need it and I hate how I need it. Please hurt me. Let me destroy something. Let me bring pain to someone just so they know how pain feels. Please. |
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| Life is bigger... |
[Nov. 24th, 2007|10:11 pm] |
I'm confused. I'm missing things I hated. Why why why would I want to go back to bitching and tears? I guess, because it was just something to do. Better to be angry and entertained than happy and bored. Who knows? I don't.
I can't even make sense. I'm tired. I want to write. I want to do something worth while. I want to be kissed by somebody with passion. I want to create something beautiful. I want to be praised. I want to be proud. I want to be where I want to be. |
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| In your face bitch. |
[Nov. 16th, 2007|10:22 pm] |
| [ | Lost Here |
| | Shalalalala...guess :) | ] |
| [ | Feelin' A Little Bit |
| | bored | ] |
| [ | La Musica |
| | Bedroom Talk--The Starting Line | ] |
Two weeks ago I stumbled across an old friend. It was nice. I forgot how much I missed her. She is seriously the most amazing person you will ever meet.
And I've realized how much I enjoy writing poetry. |
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| Well...what can I say? |
[Oct. 29th, 2007|03:44 pm] |
| [ | Lost Here |
| | Your Pants. | ] |
| [ | Feelin' A Little Bit |
| |  bouncy | ] |
| [ | La Musica |
| | A Long Ch Word--Midnight in Montreal (another local band.) | ] |
Jesus Christ on a mother fucking cross.
I haven't been on in ages it seems...I'm so drifting out. Damn school. I'm not gonna lie guys...I feel rather ashamed of myself to say the least. But, to update you on pointless crap that's going on in my life...
*My sister had a Halloween party which gave me an excuse to hit on 13 year-olds more than usual.
*I officially lost all friends, because mine are dicks who live to forget the one person who actually gave a damn.
*I'm finally not a loner.
*I'm going to a concert this friday. One for local bands, including Private I. And I get to salivate while he plays my heart away. Or my crotch, etiher way.
* got an A+ in history. I love Mr. Webner. He is seriously the sickest teacher ever.
*Last but not least, I figured out what I'm going to be for Halloween, which is pretty much epic in my book.
Well there you have it. My life's so rewarding. |
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| Well...What Now? |
[Sep. 25th, 2007|04:41 pm] |
I can't dance. I do it often, but I actually can't dance for shit. That's why I only do it when I'm home alone blasting my stereo. Don't know why I'm telling you this, but I guess it's because just now I started to dance to Matchbox 20.
And yes, as a matter of fact, I do like Matchbox 20. It reminds me of summer and stickers and the days when things were easy.
Still don't have any friends. It's okay though. I'm rather enjoying my fourty minute alone time. My mom thinks I'm unhealthy. I should be putting myself out there and wearing make-up and dating and going to parties and making new friends. But of course if I was doing all of those things she would be pissed that I do them too much and I should balance and I'm not being healthy. Parental units are so adverse.
Damn it. I can't remember what I was going to say. Oh well...
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 18th, 2007|05:18 pm] |
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Listening to music can be oddly inspirational. |
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| Heh! |
[Sep. 17th, 2007|10:45 am] |
Fuck. I'm sick....I knew it. I can always tell when I'm about to get sick. Basically, I feel like someone ran over my sinuses with an eighteen wheeler.
It was so fucking weird though. The other night I talked to a long, lost friend that I hadn't heard from in seven years. He just called out of the blue and it was really strange, because I was thinking about calling him since his birthday was on the13th, but I didn't know his number. And then on Saturday, he just calls. It was so weird and awkward talking to him. I guess I just expected that same eight year old kid that had a thing for Spawn and a speech impediment. He sounded so different. It was weird. Not even like "my balls dropped" different. It was more like "I changed my whole fucking lifestyle so now I sound like that retard Abel who never drew you that picture" different. It was very strange to say the least. Now I guess he listens to hard-core rap and gets drunk with his friends and wears his pants half-way off his ass. It just kind of took me by surprise and I felt a little uncomfortable talking to him. I really don't think we have anything in common anymore. Plus, I'm sure I came off like a total retard, because when there's awkward silences and I don't know what to say I end up rambling and saying something completely stupid. I'm pretty sure I ended up calling myself a lesbian whose desperate for some lovin'. Yeah, definitely as bad as it sounds. |
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| Random Shiznit |
[Sep. 14th, 2007|05:19 pm] |
I think I flip people off more than necessary.
I'm desperate to hang on to something. I need to pack, but I'm too lazy. And I judge people before I get to know them. It's really not my most redeeming trait.
I'm mildly interested in some guy in my journalism class. I don't even know his name, but I have a feeling I like him. Not in a "crush" way. Just kind of in a "I would like to get to know that guy" way. He's kind of a dork and extremely tall. Definitely someone I'd notice.
I really need to get off my lazy ass and do something productive. But I can't seem to get anything done. And I think I'm getting sick which'll probably be an excuse to get even less done.
I'm going to try and channel all of my energy in the direction of that guy though. Maybe then he might notice me. I think I remember his name being John. I can't be sure though.
I hope I get out of this stupid "I suck ass" riff I'm in and do something worth while. I'm really starting to piss myself off. |
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| Goals? |
[Sep. 6th, 2007|07:06 pm] |
School was a little less hectic today. And as much as I suck at math, I'm beginning to love Trig. Mr. Oberbeck is pretty cool and the guys in that class are hilarious. Stupid-ass jocks.
I can already tell that I'm going to loathe Spanish. It's the last class of the day and the teacher is some old, boring, white lady. And I can't stand the people. Everytime someone talks I get this sudden urge to kick their ass.
I still don't have any friends. This isn't too horrible though. I'd rather have no company than bad company. I guess for now it's just me, bench, Scar Tissue, and Tolberone.
Top Five Goals This Year:
1. Make further observations to figure out if Mr. O is, in fact, a homosexual.
2. Avoid fat-girl in the front row of Anatomy.
3. Try to meet someone who I can actually stand to be around.
4. Remind myself to never become that annoying.
5. Kill all whores.
Sure it's a little optimistic, but I think I can do it.
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| Day From Hell. |
[Sep. 5th, 2007|07:11 pm] |
| [ | Lost Here |
| | The Rec Room? | ] |
| [ | Feelin' A Little Bit |
| |  frustrated | ] |
| [ | La Musica |
| | Inside Out--Eve 6; Stupified--Disturbed | ] |
Started at a new school today. I seriously could have cried out loud in frustration. I won't list all the details, but I will say this: Make sure you don't stand in the wrong line for fifteen minutes at a time and even more importantly, be sure not to make this mistake more than once.
Aside from that, the school smells like trees and all my teachers seem pretty cool. My journalism teacher appears to be a little psycho, but in the best way possible, if that's possible.
Two guys hit on me. It was gross...one was all "ghetto" and the other was all...freshman-y. He bragged to me that a sophmore in college once asked him out and then asked if there was anyway to contact me. The other guy tried to get me to sit next to him and his dumbass friends. I mean...I'm not stuck-up or anything but...no thanks. I'd rather wallow in solitude. |
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sumkindastrange's journal
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