Link

http://futureyesterdays.blogspot.com/

^ NEW BLOG. THIS ONE WILL ACTUALLY SURVIVE.

End

This is the end... of my time writing here.

_______________________________________

I refuse

To be subject to the forces of habit

To be pulled back in like the tide

To give up like some weak-willed wuss

Or to be bullied into saying what I should say

Because regardless of what vocabulary I have

What I choose to say is what is going on in my head

And when I say it

It means

Who I am.

And sometimes you need that period

At the end of a sentence

For finality

Because sometimes leaving it too open ended

Leaves too much room for misinterpretation

This is something that needs to be understood clearly:

.

I've felt every way possible about this

There's not an option I haven't tested

Not a rocket I haven't seen come crashing down

But still nothing to show for it

Not much has changed and I wish it would

Ten months ago I was wishing myself out of a rut

Now I'm in it

A new one

And I want out again

So I can discover a new rut

To get caught in

Lost in

Forgotten

And re-found

Not just a rebound

Feeling like I should reread this

To see how it sounds

Feeling awkward 'cause somethings rhyme

And others just plain don't

As if looking over what I've already touched on

Was gonna help me discover what my next subject is

Sometimes you gotta ignore where you've been

And accept you're going someplace entirely different

So I dare myself to shut it out

And just say whatever non-related bull that comes forth

And I dare myself to cope with a mix

Of the old

And the new

Because it is the cowards who try to define

Spaces of time

And box people into them too

And box emotions

And memories

Commitments

Am I capable of letting this happen?

I'm ashamed of my reoccurring patterns

Like I said

I've tried everything

The worst part is the dependency

Which I'm showing right now

This horrible display of dysfunctionality

Apparently that's not a word

It should be.

That is me.

RESTART

Her

I used to ride the train home from Kindergarten at the same hour that the high schoolers took the 1 train back uptown. I was about... four feet, clinging to a pole and looking up at giants. There was a girl in skinny jeans and bright white Nikes. She had the most perfect curly hair that was always perfectly tousled and was wearing gold hoops, and a backpack thrown over her arm. The subway car would be packed in tight, so that everything was dark at my height - people's legs and bags. So I would just look up at her, with the perfect hair and the perfect look, surrounded by her girlfriends who were laughing, and she was laughing too, a big beautiful smile, with gum tucked in the back. And in front of her was some guy leaning against the subway door, flirting with her and she just kept laughing back. And these people were in some realm of superiority, which seemed like perfection, and where everyone should land in by the time they were teenagers. At that age, being a teenager, was one notch below a deity. It was a place I dreamed of, when I would be at the peak of life and freedom and identity. And beyond that, when I had my identity, I knew exactly who I would be. I wanted to be her.

February

For some reason, this never made it up when it was written - May 6, 2010. Felt like sharing:

______________________________________________

February was the last of the good old days

Before everyone went and changed their ways

I can't believe we have slipped into this phase

What happened to our innocent lunchtimes at Ray's?

Seems that sex has gotten everyone crazed

Taking full advantage of the world that we made

But it's not just a gain

Apparently it's a trade

Because in exchange

We are losing things

And which one is better?

It's hard to say

I'm just looking up at quotes

From last February

I'm feeling nostolgic

Cuz though times are great

I also have time to appreciate

When the weather was cold

There were sweet couples

We had principles

Not just hooking up with people

There was hope and chance

Actual romance

And comparitively things were so relaxed

Or maybe I'm just mourning lost time

And judging motives

Since I have lost mine.

2am

When the world falls alseep, why am I still sitting here expecting confetti to burst up over my computer screen? Why do I check my silent cell phone? If I've been caught up in a tornado all night, is this just me suffering from the shock of the end of the wind? Or maybe it's just pure insomnia, or abuse of caffiene. Nevertheless, here I sit, watching night breathe on. Love songs play from YouTube, with no meaning other than the soft tune they put into the room.

As I stare at green digital numbers, I can feel time dripping down on me, and I start to feel layers disappear. Tonight is not just tonight - it's every night I've been awake in the middle of the morning, wondering if I'm about to fall out, or if I'll see the sunrise this time. Everytime I've been worried, or blissful, overly contemplative or scared. Any time I have held this vigil, 2am on Fort Washington Avenue. I start to realize I'm staring at the same pencil-smudged plaster and paint I stared at years ago, and signed my name and pledges of love. Written like prisioners' wall carvings to prove that I was once there, in a different form. Of all the things that have changed, I still find myself in the same room, awake, absorbing night's gravity.

And then when the sunrises the purity of the dawn will shine off of urban windows and in faint ways around red and brown bricks. And I will feel every morning I've ever lived, the cold ones and the warm ones. I will feel the simultanious dread and wonder that I'm alive again and there is another day to live where there will be life on earth. Dawn is the best time to determine your character, as light baptizes you. There's a certain signifigance of seeing the first moments of morning - there's a reason you're catching that moment; it doesn't tend to be coincidental, and even if you think so, I suggest you think twice.

Jump

I don't want you to get caught up in my mistakes. See, I feel like I'm about to jump off a cliff, and there's fog ahead of me, and I know how risky this is, 'cause I don't know what I'm jumping towards exactly. But I don't wanna stay waiting on that edge, because I'm bored of it! I'm so ready to just jump... and I'm waiting for myself to go... but I stay rooted in where I am nonetheless. And now this metaphor has gone beyond my control 'cause I have too many things on my mind to keep track of who is the cliff and who is the fog and why i can't jump.

I have to admit that before there is safety there is always the risk, but why am I so reluctant to take it now? Every time we speak I know this is what I want to be jumping to, but I can only hope that it's right. I've waited for the sake of morality, I've taken it slowly for the sake of evaluation. Now I have to see that the right thing for me would be to start learning how to drown again, rather than let the lake dry up.

Trust

You gotta trust SOMEONE in life. Everyone is human, everyone has their own personal motives and everyone is gonna lie. But there has to be at least one person, that you take the risk with. The risk in believeing that human harshness will be set aside, for the quality that makes us remotely functional as a soceity of animals. The quality that makes us want to look out for each other, and care about each others' well being. To believe in that quality in other people, is to trust them. Because the only time you would ever need someone else's trust, is in the protection of your own feelings, future, or material objects. Trust is either entirely emotional or forced by a feeling of morality. At that point, the person is taking care of you because of some feeling of debt to themselves or the world, and based on their own beliefs. Most people are not like this however.

Trust is a necissary part of survival. People like to trust in other people, but there tends to be a lot of wariness. There is no way to determine for sure what's going to happen. You can look at statistics of whether this person has been reported to be trustworthy, but you never know for sure - humans are unpredictable. But if you don't trust SOMEONE, you can never create relationships, and you will end up carrying a lot of weight and secrets on your own, which never ends well.

Know

Doesn't it suck to know something and not be able to mention it? I guess that kind of sounds like a secret, so maybe this should be called "Secret". But it's not a secret! It's just knowing. Knowing something I wasn't supposed to know, because I found out and I saw things and someone gave me a clue...

Sharing knowledge is so exciting! It gives you a sense of power to know things that others don't or for example, to know things that people don't think you know. The feeling of trading stories and information is just something natureally loved by humans - I guess that's gossip. Maybe this post should be called "Gossip".

But that's not what I'm talking about either! Gossip is when multiple people discuss multiple things, and this is one thing, kept from one person. Moi.

I don't really care about not knowing - there's a lot of stuff I don't know but I end up knowing in the end. The people who kept it from me really had no business telling me, and it doesn't change anything. But it's so interesting, I would just love to share it with you.

But I'm not supposed to know.

PMS

I do not want to talk to anyone. You think you have a hilarious story to tell me, but trust me, there is nothing funny about it. You think I'm depressed and need someone to talk to but I really just want you to get the f*** out of my face. No, I don't know why I'm crying. I don't care about what you did today. I'm not going to go do that with you, because I'm sick of you and I don't like you. So do yourself a favor and leave me alone.

I'm angry at everyone but they didn't do anything and there's nothing they can do to fix it. I just want to lay on my bed and cry, and I hate crying. I don't want to read a book, or watch TV, or do anything to try and cheer myself up. Honestly, the only thing I'm up for right now, is an Eminem song and a hot shower.

Or a cold one - cold showers are even better.

Lola

I love Lola. Lola is my dearest close friend who I miss a lot right now. Lola is the reason I haven't posted in weeks, because she is the only one who reads this, so I figured it would be a waste of time to post a bunch while she was away. Lola should be home soon, with her brother, and our friend. I miss them all. But most of all, I miss Lola.

My love and wistfulness for Lola, has inspired this blog post. Actually, I've been wanting to write this for a few days now, but I restrained myself, thinking it was just a little bit creepy. However, I can't take it anymore and this is the only way I can think to cope with the fact that she is away from me and I can't talk to her about the things on my mind and closest to my heart. Moreover, she is not here to give me my morning rant about what aggravates her today, the drug qualities found in random foods, and how her family has done her wrong. Which is equally disappointing because I have become quite fond of those rants.

So I hope that when Lola sees this, she can interpret it as a tribute of love and longing, not creepiness.

I'm not even entirely sure Lola will see this, because I'm not sure if Lola is going to keep blogging when she comes home. I know I am on the verge of creating a new blog which will be completely different from this one, in style and content. But as for Lola's plans, I am not sure. I miss you Lola. Please come home.

Love, Flower.

Love

Love... is a relative feeling. Love builds up, and can just as easily exist between one set of people as the next... it doesn't belong to a set of requirements. Only that person knows if they love or not, and it doesn't have to be mutual. It is just one of those things that means you have feelings for that person, beyond any other feelings you've ever had before. And I guess I started out with the idea of romantic affection, but this applies to other kinds too. Like a mother who experiences the new rush of love for her baby, and the whole new emotional aspect that they were not aware of until they were a parent. It's like the longer you exist, all the different causes of love have more to live up to. More competition. Which means when you're older, your senses of love will be much stronger and more aware and experienced and whatnot, than it was when you were younger. However, it does not make love beforehand, any less.

Bowl

Like warm water

Poured into a bowl

Set out to sit

In the spring

That first touch

So welcoming and soothing

So strong

Everlasting

That season.

But spring is not summer

And it's not fire, it's water

Spring has breezes

Water cools

However long it takes until

The tub of water does not fulfill

Then the replacement so shocking

Bizarre in its blizzard ways

Exhilerating in its first wonder

Leaving with an unusual sting

And a slap in the face

So here you are with confusion

Snow that was your friend

Five minutes ago

Doesn't mean the blizzard

Is any less than the bowl

But the water's gentleness was comforting

This blizzard is foreign

While you know you must take chances

Because that water is getting to be cold

Somehow drowning in cold water

Is more reassuring

Than the bipolar storm.

Alone

One of my greatest fears since I was a kid, was to be alone. In any situation, I was okay, as long as there was someone there to be with me, support me, and to prove that I wasn't doing the wrong thing. When you're alone you're three thousand times more vulnerable, and there's a silence that you can't fix as you can around others. That silence can eat you up and make your inner mind start talking for you, which can be very necessary at times, and at others it can go on to the point of danger. I'm afraid to be alone, and be sitting there unable to override the sound of silence. To have no one to bring me down to reality when I start to imagine the best and believe the worst. And when I'm alone and I cry, I know that there's not gonna be a friend who can say their one word and make me smile.

Twelve

Sometimes, I can close my eyes, and this year never happened. I close my eyes, and I am twelve again, it's a cool summer day, I'm riding home on the elevated 1 train, staring out the window at the clouds. For a second, I have a year. We are standing on the edge of a cliff, and there are so many bridges we are about to cross, but once we are crossing those bridges, we are focusing on making sure we don't fall. From where we stood then, we could merely stand on the edge of that cliff, and look out into the canyon, entirely unaware of what was out there. And I remember so vividly, staring out into the expansive gray clouds, from the view of a vandalized window, thinking that something was about to happen. Future was about to happen, and there were so many points that were bursting, like a nest full of eggs about to emerge.

For a moment, I am back there. I am back in that feeling, right before life changes. It is there whenever life changes, and whenever you need it. And when I need it... I need to touch base with twelve year old me, who surprisingly, knew more about myself, than I will ever know again. Now I know about other people and the world... but it's harder to read my own dreams, and my own desires. When I close my eyes, I remember how it felt that summer, and now that I think about it, that summer was a time of magic.

8th grade

The room held an ominous silence.

It was late. Most had gone home.

One day.

Fake money and plastic flowers

Scattered across tile

Where the darkness gave fluorescent lights

a creepiness.

And that finality

Known all too well

When the energy is built up so high

Just to crash

When hours ago

This room was filled with laughter and joyfulness

Gone so suddenly

Almost like dead spirits

Now all that's left

Are half filled racks with suits

And an empty hallway

Where Axe lingers in the air

And props scattered on the ground

The remnants of multiple souls

Or one collaborative soul

Which I now mourn.

Enemy

I met you briefly in a darkened room. There was a crowd of unknown people, an embarrassment, a cake, and tension. Names whirled by and I saw your upturned face, smiling. At the time, all I could remark was yes, you were pretty, but I didn't put much more thought into it. I was focusing on the burning discomfort that I didn't know how to handle. Because I was here for her and I wasn't going to let anything else take me away from feeling the strongest love for her; after all, I had a guilt trip running longer than any jog-a-thon champion. So, in a desperation to not let the sixteen days since I'd been speechless effect me, I chatted with the others, hugged those who were familiar, and let you all wander around in a buzz around me. Because when I saw your face, in the dim light for a second, the last thing I thought was that you would soon become the next target, my next enemy. I didn't realize what was about to happen, what would ineffectually pierce my flesh. Retrospect haunts me now, because I wonder what it would have been like, to know that within a week, you would be a key part in my life attitude.

And

When I was in first grade, my teacher told us to never use the word "and" to begin a sentence. It was bad grammar. Microsoft Word told me this once, too. So when I'm typing for school, or on my blog (because this is the last place I write properly) I try to do it the right way - not start my sentences with "and". But you might have noticed, that I do end up starting my sentences that way, because half way through the post, I get frustrated, having took too long to get my idea out, because I'm trying to do it right. I try to eliminate the "and", or make it into one big sentence, but no matter what, it ends up sounding very wrong. And I think it's unfair! How can you say it's not allowed when it sounds so annoyingly good, and strings phrases together? Of course to compromise, there is the semi-colon but who ever figures out how to use that correctly, and there we have more issues with being grammatically correct. What's so horrific if I start these sentences with "and"? It's a beautiful, helpful word.

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.

Importance

We walk by people every day, and almost as often, meet new people. New names and identities enter our consciousness, even if only for a second. They are the insignificant people in our lives, acquaintances and strangers, and then there are the main characters, friends, family, lovers, and even teachers I guess. Who present a more prominent and effective role in our lives. But really, every one of the main characters started out as one of the nobodys you passed, and didn't think much about, who you had a one word opinion about and never really looked further. Because there was no reason to look further, because they didn't ever come into contact with you, or anything you did. They existed within one random moment like an extra in a movie. Then, you wake up, and a bunch of those people are close to you now, changing your life and the way you think, taking you in all new directions and becoming important. Who would have thought, when you first glanced at this person, that they would become your best friend, or you best advisor? And this will happen again - people we may know right now, as vaguely associated with some other part of life, may come to have a starring role. Then you'll look back and see how the world can revolve and take us to people, who it would appear, were always meant to be a part of your history. I find this intensely amusing.

Mistakes

Most people will admit to making mistakes in time. It can be what's blamed for the misfortune that comes to you - it's because you made some mistake in your past. Generally, these mistakes mean you did something that you thought was a good idea at the time, but turn out to be things that hurt you, someone else, or just the situation in general. No one would make mistakes if they were able to recognize them at the moment. Mistakes tend to be seen in the past, after you've already seen the damage, and then connect the misfortune to a prior action. The thing is, every action you make, doesn't have just one reflective reaction. One action can cause multiple overlapping reactions for months or years to come. And out of those multiple reactions, there can be the positive and negative ones. Sometimes the positive ones, do more than just cancel out a negative one before it. Mistakes that cause sadness one day, cause more happiness than would have been possible before you made that mistake. So how much of a mistake is it then? Actions that cause damage, but then benefit you as well. Being able to tell what was a mistake and what was actually better in the long run, I think is impossible up until the day your life is over. It depends on the final result which we'll never be able to evaluate.