Stop

Where did these days go

Lives lost

To pride

And the unknown.

Power wasted

Choices made

Never taken back

Wisdom that I lack.

Words that I reuse

Ad nausium

So you can tell

These are my favorite words

But I don't use them very well

I just sit right here

Every night

And I write

Or I try

To create

Some dispension of hate

So that I don't walk in tomorrow

Ready to scratch someone's eyes out

And so I don't cry on the train

When there's nothing to cry about

And though I'm still stupid

I just don't wanna lose it

When I'm on my way to math

Please no premature ruin

There's no telling when this stops

It stops when my fingers

Stop punching out words

That explain my state of mind

And when the meaning just becomes

Searching for rhymes

I can stop myself there

And stop wasting my time

Stop this, stop that

Stop because I can't go

Go where

There's no place

But your face

That I know

Times feeling upside down again

But I feel tied in

Running into walls

Like an animal pen

And I'm just pacing up and down Columbus Circle

Looking out the glass

At the whole wide world

I wanna stop pacing

Because there's nowhere to go

But if I'm not going anywhere

Then I can't get hurt.

Repeated

I was just trying to write how I felt in my journal, in normal paragraph form. Then this slipped out. (this is from a few weeks ago)

_________________________________________________

And why does my life feel like the same thing

Repeated year to year

The only thing changing is the characters

But the lessons are the same

Cause I have the same feelings

And I never learn.

I look back at old journals

That tell of a time

So long before ours

Before simplicity was devoured

And while the setting was so vastly different -

Essentially

It was the same.

So what am I doing here but walking in circles

Scratching with pencils and searching for words

To find a phrase and complete a poem

So I can turn the page

Think about -

And go on.

Nonspecific

It would suck to wake up one day and find out that some one other than Lola has been reading this blog for the past year. Oh, and Melli and The Wizardress too. It would seriously mess with my life, to find out that I've been screaming all this s***, thinking I was releasing stress into the open air and with those that I love. I'm not even entirely sure how I'd react if that happened, I guess it would depend who. I just have this horrible feeling that some one's been checking up on my emotional state and I have no clue about it. That's what I get for putting this on the Internet! But since when is paranoia a new thing for me? Shoot, I just missed 11:11. I wish on every 11:11, just so you know. It's one of those things I believe in. Sorta. Kinda. Hey! So this is actually how I think, and talk, when I'm not being all official on my blog. My blog is just about the last place where I use correct spelling and grammar and etc. And I also usually use big words and concepts, which are actually what I think about... it just sounds really official? I guess? I can't come up with the right word...

So. Now that I'm almost done with this post, I need to give it a title. It's kind of random. But that's not the right word for it. Thank Spirit for thesaurus. Nonspecific. This post is nonspecific. But I find it so interesting that I'm not making a big deal about the future, the past, regret, love or adolescence, that I'm actually going to publish this!

Fragile

Yall remember this. But I was rereading it, and decided it was the right time to post it here. (originally written December 8, 2009, in math. This was not my assignment.)

______________________________________________________

Run away and hide

Away from world order

Winter known to bring

Worst of luck

Say something wrong

Do something reckless

Leaving winter to blame

Looking to next month

Wishing for next year

If there is no way to return from which you came

In my past I fear

This season of detatchment

Still

Too fragile for winter winds

Could you get lost in winter?

Lose true meaning

Succumb to foggy memories

Only to rise again

And may springtime bring us peace

Fluidity and understanding

But when November clouds taunt -

Too fragile for winter winds.

1/28/2010

Does it hurt less To see by day

And know by night
Nonexistent echoes
Of empty words
What do I see
Power gone
But ego is strong
Wake up one day
and cry
Still Breathing
In and out of dreams
Can't change a thing
Passing days
Just for the sake of
Killing time

Happiness comes in waves

Sunlight has never been so dry

How come

Weather changes so fast in this town

Find I'm constantly

Loosing ground

Heart aches for freedom

More than satisfaction

Every word

Emphisizing hope is dead

Tell me again

Blue fire

Black coal

Don't know where to turn

Let the fire burn

23

That night, she kept walking. The black door beckoned as it had every other night, but she couldn't go through it now. The wind brushed her cheeks and summoned unemotional tears, despite the cirucumstance. She didn't have the want to go, but she didn't want to do anything, except get somewhere cold, somewhere holy, somewhere that would tell her what to do. Past the black door and ignoring the red light, the darkness ahead was as looming and inevitable as it had been when she woke up that morning, her fate already decided, but her being unaware of it. It was a tunnel that called to her, because wherever she was wandering that night, it was far better than from where she was coming. Something about the cold darkness was comforting, gave her a sense of belonging. Belonging to the cold is to belong to nothing, to loneliness and that little black part in your heart.
Every breath had weight that questioned if another breath would ever come. Then, it came, rushing all too fast into her lungs, and the woman, the girl, almost choking on it, before suffocating from lack of it. Without any consious choice, her legs proplled her forward, away from a shattered world, and towards a world she didn't know yet. She stopped at the wall.
Looking over the wall, snow was shoved up around the fences, once beautiful innocence, now packed into the uniform truth of what it means. Light reflected off the glistening concrete, from the street lights, creating a white and golden hue. The mini bowling ball in her chest rose, and fell. The wind grazed the top of her hair, and she lifted her head to the sky, to look for the moon. Once located, the familiar white curve shone down pressing truth onto her face.
Frozen in her mind was the sight she'd seen so often before, and taken for granted. Now, tonight as it appeared, it stopped her heart, her breathing, her head spun and she stared at the image in her head. It took over and she asked - why. it was the happiest sight of her life. And given previous events, it was questioned, if it too, were real.

Want

What is it about humanity that wants more when it has everything? Why do we strive for the most difficult goals and dismiss the simply gained ones? When you were seven years old, what did you dream about for your future? And now that you've reached some higher place, now that life is practically perfect - what's wrong? There is always a flaw in the picture, that no matter what else you try to surround it with, there's still that hole isnt there? There's still that thing in your life you would fix if you could, there's still that reason you'll be sad tonight, or tomorrow, or eventually. Living in a cloud of happiness is a lie... and even if you really, really do feel 100% happy, there's a lie to that too. We would not be human if there wasn't some gap to be filled by the mysterious key. Remember me talking about this key? This key is different. This key is EVERYONE'S key, and how are we ever going to find it? My frustration is with one thing, simply: living with the constant distraction of wanting with all your heart, the one thing you cannot have. Why can't other things in life make up for it? Why can't you fill the space with an alternate substance? Why is human desire so specific and impossible to satisfy?

2010

I realized, looking at my blog archive, that I had nothing under 2010, because I had not yet posted in this new year. So here it is. I feel like I've been living the idea of 2010 for so long, yet writing it feels overtly like I'm writing in the future, moreso than any other year. Maybe it's because I've been looking forward to this year, because I graduate this year. I've given it great importance for the last four, so now that it's finally here, it has it's own persona. In a way. It's also a new decade, which really makes me feel old. Because now, I pretty much have a whole decade of memories, since most of my complete memories begin circa age three. And on New Years Day, there were many memories haunting me. But I said, they don't count anymore, because now it's a new year - which is a load of bull, but it certainly makes you feel better. And if I ever need to push those things out of my head, may they be embarssing moments, or mistakes, or unfulfilled goals or wishes, or lack of insight or simply not seeing something coming. Now, I can just think, that they are part of a whole different year, and a whole different decade, and they don't need to touch me, or the life I intend to live. Happy New Year.

Back

I am going to close my eyes right now. And the tears are going to come streaming down my cheeks, down my neck and the two rivers will meet at my spine. I am going to take a deep breath, and it will take me a full 65 seconds to slowly let it out. I am going to open my mouth, and wait for words to come. But they never will. I will stare at a computer screen and listen to the sound of a clicking keyboard, but I will still not understand exactly what is coming out from my fingertips. I feel my life rewinding, I feel like I'm crawling back into prehistory. I've already zipped through November, now I'm living October. October was long and hard compared to December. It was full of constant doubt and playing every card carefully... yet I'm still confused what the difference between October and December was... on that spectrum. Did I not think the same thoughts, only by December they were reality? I feel as distant from you as my birthday. September. August. August was like a stab in the chest followed by hiding in a hole. July, July ends it. My memory ends in July, my time travel is limited to July. Because so many things were a myth in July, so many people were different, including myself. There was so much left to figure, so much innosence. No, we can't go back THAT far. But maybe tonight we'll understand, because we will have lost the past 4 months. Maybe, but we can only hope. It seems I can't understand anything being thrown at me these days.