thanks for the eyes.

your eyes looked hauntingly familiar. i felt like you were pulling me in to some secret. begging me to understand something. you sat down and i though little of you, but those eyes kept boring into me. they saw something more than what strangers would let on to knowing. you saw what we were for what we were. never give up on love. be happy because that is everything. you knew we loved eachother. you called me attractive and you called him handsome. it could have been nothing, a drunkard's attempt at a compliment, but i thought you sensed something more, the way i did. i reached and held his hand and you smiled at us with an unplaceable emotion. you mumbled to yourself and i tried to reply but i couldnt summon the words. i was mutely bewildered, touched by the momentary joint in our three worlds. the countless faces i pass by without a second thought, what ocean of new ideas could i witness, what array of insight could be mine? anyones? we went our ways and you went yours. you said one last thing. thanks for your eyes. i realized later it didn't mean nearly as much as i though it had. he stared into his eyes and i thought he could see what i've seen. the beauty that's behind it. and i'll never really know.

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neighborhood nights

I feel like somewhere along my life there was a shift. Suddenly nothing was for fun any more, it was all necessary. Suddenly I'm bothering with what others think, afraid to link any connotations I deem negative to my being. Why do I care what people I've never met, who'll forget they ever saw me, think of me; this obscure stranger in their peripherals. It's a warped sense of mind and place, seeing the space around me in my mind's made up ways. So I stray away from everyone, isolating myself unwittingly, turning them against me. Self fulfilling prophecies, I succeed in creating this reality. I need to break free from my mind's mentalities, with which negativity has propelled me. So I've started a new sport. I call it neighborhood night dancing. Donning headphones and heading out alone to the empty streets as the city sleeps, and moving to the beat. Letting it compel me towards a freedom long gone missing. Letting go is an art. Complete release is a tough ...

Home

I looked back at blog entries, and even though the subject matter was less than pleasant to be reminded of, it was still good, I'm glad I have written reminders so I have points of reference to gauge my growth. And I've come far. I often feel like I've had three stages in my life. The first was with Brent, and though I was a newborn in love's eyes, I soon grew to an extremely old age. My heart was always cracked and my spirit became dulled. I became clogged with darkness, became tired and dragged myself through the days. But I never stopped. I stubbornly sacrificed myself each day for someone whom I thought it was going to help. I was wrong. The first day of my second stage was the day I stopped caring about him and finally focused on myself. I was free, and I was drunk with it. Too drunk. I dove into something that made me happy, too quick. I soon realized there were other ways to get hurt. this stage wasn't that defining, though I began to learn to take things as ...

i dont know where im going with this

no one ever needs anything. they only want. "i need to get atleast 75 on this test" no. you want it. because you want a good mark because you want your mark to go up..ect." you want it because you dont want the alternative. aka failing. you dont need to go to school. you probably should, you probably should want to, but you dont need to. lets get a more exagerated example "you need to take this medicine for your illness or else you'll die." you might think this is a flaw in my theory. but it isnt. you want to take the medicine because you dont want the alternative; death. but you dont need to take it. you never need to do anything.

rude awakenings

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