Happy friday the 13th.

Down down down, here we go again. Spinning down the vile pit of despair. Pathetic and lowly and despicable. That weakness has got a strong grasp, fingers tight on my collar, gathering the fabric and wrenching me forward. An irresistable despair, I dig my pit further. Broken cardboard hearts, torn from the sheet of the morning and spoiled in life's darkly decay. That silly seed of emotion turned into a creeping vine, I am consumed. The purpley clouds on the horizon breaking over the clear blueness of early morning skies. My body's out of tune with that song I once had sung. Unstrung and useless, I sit, stewing, stubborn and weak.

Comments

Sr. Arquiteto said…

we're so fragil, pathetic.Makes me scared just to think about it.Our lives, a thin line...one whisper and it all desapear in despair and pain, it's all that have left humn?
i read your words.yestearday, today...i guess that'll keep reading it tomorrow.
words like hammer is that of yours.Keeps smashing my brain.
Do we have will enough to make diference? i mean...forget it, i don't have this gift of yours.
Take care.

November 14, 2009 at 9:25 PM

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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