oh dear.
now i look like i'm following trends. D:
transitions, endings, beginnings, all that jazz.
later makuyi.
later guys.

as liz said, if you'd like to follow up with me, just contact me.



over and out.

i miss your dreams.

those nights when we sat on rooftops and driveways and spoke of airplanes and apartments
and you came to me and voiced your loneliness after all that time but you did not say you were sorry
you admitted and you spoke the truth of it and maybe i felt a small part of your remorse
but it was remorse for your own state of mind and not mine
and today i smell like paint
and my hands are covered and my legs are covered and my face is covered and i wonder now if you were so easily able to wash yourself clean of me
the way you rinsed the guilt right off and the way this stains my clothing but can be washed from my skin if i just scrub hard enough

this room is dark
there are red flowers and sometimes i can't see this pen
and then i look and it really has stopped writing but mostly it's only my eyes
i remember watching those wings go around
sleepless as i am and always was
and the room wrapped its arm around my throat and ribcage and said can you remember can you ever ever be and i said no
i can't
no i can't i can't i can't
i can't
but i want to let go of that
i believe in many ways no all ways well almost i have let go of that

but i have never lost my breath like that before and i wish i never had but i suppose there's a first time for everything
even red rooms with no windows and ceiling fans for company
with red walls like the red flowers by the door

this room seems darker than that room was though there is more light here
i think it was all the red because it felt like suffocation
and my insides curl and wilt and i feel alone here
the red numbers blinking at me through the thickness even though they stay solid and the wings slow down but i can still hear them spinning
five
three three
i always think that they will fall down and take away my head
my head of cabbage i spoke of that today and laughed a little
no it was lettuce i think
i don't really like cabbage
too thick and full of wilt like my stomach

i wish i had a summer to wrap its arms around me again if only to drain the breath away from me so that i might sleep
sleep, or dream, perchance, perchance
tig tig tig tig tig
yes i hear you, tap what is it this time dear
my eyelids begin to close and i feel my stomach curling
muffled voices beneath my ear that almost sound like music because i cannot make out the words inside the television with all the cotton in my head and the gauze that covers my knees where i fell and pulled them open and all the flesh was red and torn and the truth fluttered out like a butterfly broken-winged and i had to put soap on it to get the slime out and it burned
like when you told me that night
and i'd been so sure so sure so sure
only that felt colder
i was i was your velveteen
and they close...

i went to my journal page a few minutes ago, and forgot to log in. and i saw this entry, and remembered how nice it was to be able to just put something out there, without out having to worry about being judged or discovered.

so, i'm posting it again.


Post anything that you want, and post it anonymously.
Anything. A story, a secret, a confession, a fear, a love -- anything. Be sure to post anonymously and honestly.

Post twice if you'd like. (or more!)
and make sure to link to this entry in your journal, too, so everyone can participate if they'd like to. :3

it's funny, the masks we make for ourselves. year after year, they each wear down and begin to crumble, and sometimes we sit and fill in the chipped places and repaint the faded colors to repair them, comfortable with the position we've been contorted into for so long. and, sometimes, we fall and crack our faces open, so we sit and cast and paint new ones, and bend in new directions to fit ourselves back into them.
is it that we are afraid of the face beneath?
or is it that, perhaps, we are afraid of the face that isn't?

only when we reach our clay-covered fingertips into the cracks in our lips and splits in our brows to peel the layers of porcelain back do we realize our fear of our own empty cores. our nothings.


the more we know who we're not, the less we know who we are.

the joys of ap art. :)

I just need to write this, and I need someone to read it.
It has nothing to do with you.
[Unless, of course, it does.]



I realize now that I was alone all along.
[I understand that it was never, never me.]
And now I don't cry.
And now I don't feel sick.
And now I don't remember.
And somehow I'm free.
We will go on living [just like we always do].

Words are nothing.
[Absolutely nothing.]
I was nothing.

I said I would someday but I don't think I will.
I realize now that I was alone and that you are a shallow, insensitive, self-centered liar.

And that's okay because you will never read this.

I believed for so long in someday.
There is no someday.
Someday is today, and today, we are further away than ever.
[And only getting further.]

And somehow I get the feeling that nothing has changed.
That it was always this way.
I just wanted so much to believe otherwise.
But nothing has changed.

I don't need to be happy for you anymore.
I don't need to make such an effort to be unselfish.
I don't need to tell myself it's better this way.
Because I don't think you deserve even a thought.
[It isn't like you've ever given me one.]

I like that you will see this but will never read it.
I like that you will never notice it's for you.

I like that you will never know.

I held your hand.
I lifted you up on my shoulders.
But you climbed up above and never reached down your hand.
And I waited.
[And waited.]
But you left me there alone.

And I told myself that was all I'd ever wanted.

You told me you were waiting for me.
[Guess you had better things to do.]

I wouldn't really care about any of it, if you hadn't been so beautiful and sincere.
I thanked you over and over for not forgetting.
Until I realized that you'd never once remembered to begin with.

And I was hurt.
And I was pissed.

[And somehow, I'm okay with that.]

So, sorry I wasn't good enough.
Sorry I wasn't worth the actions to follow through the words.

Thank you for the broken promises. I'll lock them away with the rest, for safe-keeping.

In other words.

You failed.

[Then again, I can't say you were ever really trying in the first place.]

Okay redoing this because I'm dumb. :D


Stolen from Rachel -

Post anything that you want, and post it anonymously.
Anything. A story, a secret, a confession, a fear, a love -- anything. Be sure to post anonymously and honestly.

Post twice if you'd like. (or more!)
Then, put this in your LJ to see what your friends have to say.
Or you can just link back here and pimp this one so everyone can just comment all in one place. :)

The two of us are screaming, even now

As if to confirm something, you tightly clench your right hand
If the rules are annoying you, just go ahead and break them
If you're thinking of resting your ailing legs
Move just one more step from here, instead

Even if we push our way through the distorted winds
Even if we outdistance the cold sky
Even then, we still continue to wander

The two of us are screaming all the time
Just continuing to believe isn't the answer
Expose your weaknesses and your wounds
If we don't continue to struggle, nothing will begin
So break through, beyond the door

Society has become entangled in complex problems
If reality is vexing you, just go ahead and blow it away
If you're planning on sulking over abuse and slander
Let out your selfishness and desire, instead

Drown out the confusing noise
Shake free the gazes that have grown apathetic
Continue from here, on to the next stage

The two of us are searching all the time
This accelerated speed can never go back
Bind your strength and resolution together
If we don't continue to run, there is no future
So move forward, beyond the door

Even if the pride you hold over your head is a mistake
Even if the ideal you paint crumbles
Even if everything here turns to lies and wears you down
I'll definitely be here

The two of us are screaming, even now
Just continuing to believe isn't the answer
Expose your weaknesses and your wounds
If we don't continue to struggle, nothing will begin
So break through, beyond the door

The two of us are searching, even now
This accelerated speed can never go back
Bind your strength and resolution together
If we don't continue to run, there is no future
So move foward, beyond the door

Beyond the door.

Sometimes I really hate these little things called memories.


I hate feeling wounded because the past can't ever come back.

But most of all, I hate that even after it's gone, the ghost of it still returns to haunt you, tempt you, provoke you, make you sick.

And I hate how the bad memories still hurt like they did in the instant they happened.



And I hate how the good ones hurt even worse.


And I hate neveragain.
And I hate unhappyendings.
And I hate toolate.
And I hate simplydestiny.
And I hate brokenpromises.
And I hate forgottenagain.
And I hate don'tlookback.
And I hate wastedtime.
And I hate lastchances.
And I hate lostforever.
And I hate thisdoor
And thatdoor
And windingroads
And passingfaces.


And I hate
And I hate
And I hate
And I hate


And I hate alloveragain.






And.

I hate that no matter how far away you are, I'm always by your side.

I forgot to mention that we called the police last night.

There was a whole lot of yelling going on next door that woke me up around 2:30, so I got up and went into the bathroom to listen at the half-open window, and I could hear guys shouting and someone yelling, "You wanna die?! You wanna die right here, right now?!" And then I hear, yes, I actually HEAR, from another house, someone being slapped, repeatedly. And then I hear a girl's voice, crying, more slapping sounds, and more yelling.

So I got the phone, went into my parents' room, and asked them if I could call the police. o_o;

They thought I was making it up, because by the time they went to listen, there was nothing except for a guy going, "Let's go, let's go," and the sound of a car starting. But when we talked to the police and told them we lived at Hemlock, they asked us if it was about 480 Hemlock (the house right next to us from which the sounds were coming), and told us they'd already got the people causing all the commotion. We went downstairs and looked out the window, onto the lawn, and were shocked to see a group of policemen and a couple guys out there, standing on our lawn. If there hadn't been glass between us, and a curtain, I could have reached right out the window and touched one of them. Needless to say, I shut that curtain fast again and went upstairs. XD

Anyway.

I think I am going to formally go friends only now. I've been locking most of my entries lately anyway, so whatever. I'll leave everything else before this how it is, but from now on, entries are no longer public.

The end.

PS - (I'm kind of afraid to go to sleep tonight...)