shadow of the heart I-III

Looking back I was always afraid of my imperfections. Afraid of the conditional love I lived under, I squirmed in my ragged skin. Pockmarked on the outside, blemished on the inside. Predisposed for chemical imbalances, in accepting my fate I made it a reality. I felt skewed and broken, a cloud of darkness wrapped in layers of pale olive skin. I took silence as a bad thing, afraid of the thoughts formulating in the observer's eye. I kept half of me hidden in shadow, afrad what the light would reveal. Afraid to be myself because I'd be lonely. No one would stay once they knew how I could really be. And what was that? I was no devil, no schemer. I had no dark thoughts that merited scorn. I was nothing that needed hiding. Yet I was concealed; I was living a masquerade of generic precedences. I can't remember the reasons I convinced myself with. Looking back, it all seems so silly. Hidden in a caccoon of my own trepidations, I was waiting for someone to break me open, unfurl these sleeping wings woven with hidden gems and crystlized beauty.
My advice to you all: find someone that you can be 100% yourself with. It is the greatest feeling in the world.

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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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