rude awakenings

I see past these walls the city builds. Like a rat, standing on hind legs, peering over the maze. I am still a rat, but I have seen things that cannot be unseen. I know the world is full of wonders, past the maze of humanity that we've all gotten lost in. I know not what greets me at the exit, but I know it will be better than these mindless meanderings through this every-day drag-on. I am freed from these shackles with the key of a broader mind.

slippery slime slips, drips, sinking slinking and you're thinking you could be sick, but the thick slips down with a frown, but stays, plays, eyes wide, smiling. laughing. feeling good. good mood food. nibble giggle repeat. sip, skip and smile, for a little while. magic cactus, bitter citrus slips in cutting muck, slimy, stuck. sticking, licking lips, taking sips.

my room is a mess. my head is a mess. This holiday stress has left no room for sanity. It was go go go; preparations for today. Christmas. And every year I wonder why I bothered. it isn't the same as when I was a child. this day has lost all of it's magic. But the only magic there ever was, was from the plethora of presents I saw under the tree as a child. It was all about the presents, all about getting. Now, it's more about giving, but I want to give more than consumer goods. So this year I crocheted most gifts; put time and effort in, instead of money. But the inner child still lives within, expecting more than I should. And every year I am disappointed. it's more than just the gifts, it's the unfulfilled Christmas spirit in this home. We are a dysfunctional family, and maybe I'm a terrible daughter, but at times I can't stand my family. I cant stand when my mother gets drunk and acts immature, when it's all about her. I can't stand the feigned f

November 6th 2011 11:11 PM I wish that I’ll never have to come home to my father taking refuge in the cold garage in his black sweatpant and teeshirt after-work wear any more. I wish that for once things will be ok. That I wont need to recede into invisibility behind my closed bedroom door and pretend there isn’t a lion pacing its lair on the upstairs floor. I wish that I won’t need to cram my schedule full of extracurriculars so I can pretend this doesn’t exist and I am not a part of it. I wish I’d never be sad again. Never let the tears wield their terrible power over me. Never let them choke me and punch me in the gut until I can’t stand strait and I crumble. I wish I could be stronger; That I could be better with dealing with everything, and anything. I wish I could be simpler; Easier to understand, so that my partner could read me like a cook book. Find the right recipe to make me happy, and follow the simple steps. But I am Shakespeare to the high school drop-outs, I’m impossi

I’m walking around like a haemophiliac in a knife shop. One slip and it could end badly, the tears will never stop. I can’t clot my emotions and let them dry up and fall away. They stay with me, seeping deeper until they poison my bloodstream. And I wish I could scream, convert the pain into sound instead of drowning in the sorrow. I’ll be fine by tomorrow, I know, but right now I’m bleeding. Reeling on an ocean of emotion and the storm isn’t slowing.

your Root Chakra is CLOSED you tend to get stuck in an unfulfilling and unrewarding career, and you never seem to have enough money, which leaves you worried and in debt. Spending money is a harrowing experience for you, as you doubt your ability to budget effectively. You suffer from weight or body issues, which leave you feeling unworthy and uncomfortable in your own skin. your Sacral Chakra is STRONG, you see sex in a positive light, as a glorious, pleasurable and healthy activity. You enjoy passionate, frequent and long-lasting sex with your partner. Orgasms are mind-blowing, and you and your partner often orgasm at the same moment. You make time to have sex at least a few times a week, even if you've been married or attached to the same person for years. You are always able to attract the right partners; compatible people who nourish you, fill you with joy and make you a better person. your Personal Power Chakra is CLOSED. you tend to struggle with self-esteem issues, and f

Found this today, snooping places I shouldn't, because it is like quicksand. Your blogs freeze moments, emotions in static time, I can read them, and like a photograph, be back in that time and place. Back to those feelings of guilt, the pain and the confusion for both of us. Life went on in a seemingly different universe. Parallel to everything now, slightly overlapping, and yet forever away. And since it's so close but so far, it's always there, a shadow over my shoulder, but I can't grasp it, rip it up and destroy it. it is like the air I breathe. For as long as I live I am breathing the same air as you. And you are always there. intangible but always fucking present. I can almost recognize your face in my clouded exhales. anger sad happy depressed are only a few of my feelings 04:24pm | Oct 29, '09 | Public Indian Giver (I turned my back) Share Today at 12:00am You are a shadow now. And I can't conjure the image that was printed on my eyelids after each br

you're never gone. why can't you fucking leave? I want so bad to be free of your memory. I don't want to keep thinking about you, but I can't help it. It's not because I miss you. Not because I still care. I don't. I'm cold as a fall morning for you. Void of feeling. Yet you still have the ability to have my heart in a choke hold. You seep back in when i reveal my cracks. And you will make me crumble. You confound me. Why do you hold this power over me, two years after? Why did I have to ever meet you. Why did I subject myself to you, or was it to me? to my weakness, to my faults, my love. My goddamned bleeding heart. You hypnotized me, moth to bright obscuring light. debilitating. You found me when I was young. Soft and shape-able. you held firm, until your fingerprints were printed on my flesh, impressed upon me permanently. And when I finally left you I hardened my skin, became rigid baked clay. But I didn't think to smooth your marks away, and now I

I bite my tongue, suck it in and swallow. Let words wallow and wilt in a cell that I build for all those that never made it out. Silenced by my doubt and left to sink down my esophagus, seared by stomach acid, they smolder. Growing older, growing stale, I fail to cultivate, to mitigate the weight of words solidifying, not trying to save them from a useless state. I’ve got indigestion from all the unconventional confections I've been ingesting, testing my limits. I’ve got heartburn, because I never learned to chew my food. I swallow whole sentences in one bite despite it being rude. But it’s a habit I’ve fallen into, a pit I’ve slipped into and can’t escape. I can’t shape a sentence worth sharing, not caring to be a part of the conversation. I have no declarations I deem fit for telling, no ideas that I’m selling at any price. I think twice about speaking and by then I’ve lost my chance. It’s a dance I don’t know the moves to. Like changing lanes in heavy traffic, if i

This evening, as me and my sister were walking the dogs around the block, an old lady commented on their beauty. having heard this a thousand times, I laugh and say thanks, and we keep walking. but she calls back to us, asking us where the bus stop is. Then she explains why she is here; she works with the disabled, and came here after work because her girlfriend had smokes, but she couldn't get a hold of her in the end, and I forget why, but she was headed to the Rocky view hospital. She told us she had breast cancer, had both her boobs chopped off. We reply with the usual "oh, that sucks" but she stops us, and tells us its great because she's on powerful painkillers. Then she turns her attention to our dogs, and told us that she used to house sit for a 110 year old man who worked in the oil rigs and was gone for long periods of time, and he had an untrained Samoyed whom she would cuddle up with at his big fireplace. but the dog would drag her on her stomach 20 yards

And im lost. left grappling, reeling in this absence. i feel... empty. alone and unprepared. what if i miss something. someone is trying to contact me and I cannot reply. But why does it vex me so? i am tense, to borrow a word, ever wondering what is happening on my cell, which lies somewhere in a house on the other side of town, found or unfound, sitting. possibly ringing. probably silent and no one is missing me or me their messages. yet i can't relax. How will i contact my friend tomorrow on break? how will i tell the time? Why did i ever stop wearing a watch? because my cellphone was always there. it was dependable, a part of me i never left home without. i was constantly in the thick of it. at the touch of a finger i could summon anyone. plan anything. meet up with anyone without a hitch. but now....i've dropped off the grid. I am untouchable. i should revel in this, my few hours of freedom. i have an excuse to be absent. relax and not bother with anyone. let them find m

I remember the walk to your house. Well almost. I remember the walk past the superstore, where you had been banned from for stealing eyeliner. I remember your parent’s basement. The bar couches, a tv, the pictures of you as a child with mouth gear. I remember the way your teeth looked when I first met you. I was disgusted. And it took so long to fix, but if it hadn’t been for me they wouldn’t be salvaged. I never understood a lot of you. I was too young, and too in the middle of it to realize what was happening. You intrigued me so. And now you’re just a memory. Scraps of you float through me once in a while. Like I’m living in a minefield and you could be set off at the slightest touch and I’d be assaulted with recollections. I never thought I’d be free of you. You clung to me even after death, with clamped fingers. You would not lose me. And I wanted to run, far away, but I couldn’t do it. Only now have I deleted you off facebook. Now there will be no contact to you. None of your

sigh. it's friday, 9:20 am, i'm watching the daily show before I go to school, and i'm on the laptop playing a silly fb game. my mom comes down stairs, and says good morning whilst in the middle of a loud yawn. I didnt reply because it sounded like she was making some of her odd stretching yawning noises. then she irately repeats it, and as i reply, she gets angry with me, thinking i didn't reply because i was distracted by the computer. then she proceeds to tell me her kids are driving her crazy. then she brings up europe, and how she drve us crazy. trying to alleviate the tension i joked "so we're even then? :P " she didnt pick up any humor and retaliated with "well you were driving me crazy, as was dave, and that's why i drove you crazy. so no. we are far from even." hooray, it's all about her, always. She complains about spending two hoours cleaning the counters in the kitchen, cleaning our bathroom etc, but she never asks us to do it

I enjoy mushrooms and acid, and could see myself using them in the future for various escapades. Just that coming up, the butterflies in my stomach already high, flying in a frenzy that almost makes me lose my lunch. I guess that’s what you get for introducing a foreign substance into a body so fine tuned for reality. I don’t know why humans are so entranced by altering what we regard as normalcy. Maybe we are constantly dissatisfied with what we know, and those of us unfit for scholarly expansion of the brain take to drug fuelled expansion of the mind. Then there’s me, who’s a happy mix of both. I guess I always want to learn; both about the planet around me and the world inside my head. It’s a weird mix. I don’t know what I’d classify myself as. A scholar, only by the fact I’m spending more time in university than any of my other friends. I’m a learner. A ponderer; I am constantly attempting to quench some intangible thirst I feel, for anything. The world around me will never lose it

richard, my poetry teacher, encourages free writes. letting go of all pretences and planning and just writing, not correcting words or anything. so this is mine for the day, randomness included. Im fucking empty. Of motivation, of anything to do. I sit on my bed and wait for life to happen. The house is empty too. My phone sits like a stubborn friend, unwilling to talk to me. Dinner sits almost ready on the stove but no one shows. I haven’t been outside for 5 hours. I’m supposed to go to a party, but once again my phone has ducktape over its mouth. I’m hungry but I don’t jknow what to do about it. Eat of course would be the logical solution, conclusion, w/e. but I have no energy. Im in a depressive state. Tv shows and alternate realities affect me in a way im almost ashamed to admit. Im so emotionally invested in these characters that I fall directly into what they “”” want me to fall into. Ill keep watching of course. I just spilt oils on my desk. Or it had fell over and I just notic

today i was almost hit by a police car who had turned its lights on as I was almost passed him in an intersection. He turned the corner onto my road and nearly tboned me because he had taken an unnecessarily wide turn into the second lane (the one I was in.) I slam on my breaks before he acctually hit me, stalled the car, and the police officer pulls up beside me and yells in my window"when my lights are on you stop! stop means stop!!!" and I blabber a "yes, im sorry im sorry" and he drives away. This shock sent me into tears, and as I pull up to the next red light this guy pulls up beside me and tells me I was in the right and that the cop was being a giant douche. I thanked him as best I could through sobs. My heart was pounding and I felt like such a bad person, and totally frazzled and freaked about almost getting in my first accident and with an effin' police car to boot, that I can't stop crying. And Scott beside me tries to calm me down, and I could t

he said we are all vessels but I am like an urn. holding ashes I've collected every time I've been burnt. I'm full and I'm heavy with these cindered reminders unable to empty out and start over.

i don't know what it is but i cant stand you anymore. maybe because I've been with you for 6 weeks straight. then i got two weeks of freedom, glorious freedom, and it's hard to come back to living in this house, with you, with whom i now associate all the wonderful memories of arguments that you could never bare to lose, the days spent waiting at each corner for you as you lagged behind inconsiderately taking pictures. my friend told me last night, in alcohol fuelled praise, that you were real. that she had incredible respect for you. and i just couldn't agree. you're real only in the sense that you let us know exactly what is on your mind without bothering if it upsets us. but you don't take the time to listen to me, to consider my opinions, because everything anyone else thinks is completely illogical and a waste of time. you can't grasp that you're views aren't one size fits all. they don't work for everyone; especially not me. You can't

the house is empty but my mind is full. rampant with every day ramblings forming a kaleidoscope collage of every day living. i think that's why I've had a headache for three days. and scott's got me feeling guilty for taking Tylenol. which is probably a good thing. I enjoy painkillers, because I am so often in pain. and so often i can't handle it. there are a few things i can't handle. pain, conversations, people being angry with me. I try and avoid conflict as much as possible, but that's a fool's errand. I'm living a lie, but I do it well. But every now and then the walls crumble and I'm left asphyxiated in the dust. choking on my tears as the all too familiar depression worms its way in to my chest. I often find myself wrapped in Scott's arms running a broken record through my head. The sadness is addictive and I'm lured in, but then i hate myself for it, for scaring my lover, for hurting him. this then makes me cry harder because I'm

I've been collecting feathers in the hopes that I'll fly away. but my feet stay planted in the ground I haven't found enough to overcome gravity. so I make them into earrings in hopes that they can at least help me hold my head high

we are weaved in with telephone wires, 'chemtrails', patchworking the sky. and the world doesn't look so great behind prison bars

i cant quite get a grasp on you. you've built a protective web to surround you, but you let it slip when shit went down around you. problems with the girlfriend, now ex. you did your best to play the bigger man. but i saw the stilts where your feet should have been. i don't want to be mean but i feel someone needs to get the truth out. cuz we know nothing about you. The funny thing was, your ugly side was predicted in a tarot spread. i shook my head and said that cant be. but the reader could see the real you that came through not long after. i let out disbelieving laughter when your guise fell. you broke the spell that had me transfixed like a moth to a bright light. but in hindsight, you played the game well. no wonder so many fell in love with your words and your wit. you knit yourself a pretty little sweater, but we found the loose thread. so think ahead before you plan to trick another girl into thinking your world is the place to be. Because she'll see before long tha

i feel so disconnected. And I'm infected with this feeling, reeling in this madness, trying to deflect the coming sadness that comes with deprivation. ah fuck it.

I saw him, the first time in 40 days, like a dream coming to life. Grin brimming, I unlocked the door and rushed like a magnet to my main attraction. He looked different since I'd left, shorter hair, longer beard, but those eyes shone with the same intensity, those arms grasped with familiar fervor. And those lips. Heavenly warmth that melted the world away and I was lost in an ocean of dripping skies, holding him close, my rock, my safety, anchored after an eternity of strange seas. I vowed never again to let distance drive a stake between us. If I ever leave he will be my partner through it all and not a correspondence at the other end of a skype call.

Her camera shoots a thousand victims, capturing them, imprisoning them in a memory card thatll never again see the light of day. Shell stash them away, where theyll stay because no one will want to waste their time watching slideshows of the slow progression of twenty thousand frames. And its a shame because all this time she spends is in vain, all the painful waiting as shr takes her pictures taking her time. Amd its a crime to complain or to blame her for our pain because her wrath is worse than the acursed sound her shutter makes. Despite your 'mindfulness' classes you cant be mindful of us as we stand in the italian afternoon sun, waiting for you as you lag behind. Dragging your fert as you hold your camera to your face in a constant vigil bexause youre terrified of an opportunity for photography to pass you by. You ignore our sighs and complaints, for they taint your perfect mood, and our moods mean nothing at all. You fall behind all the time, because your pictures

Less than a week left, and im itching to be home. My sister left to poland to be with her bf for the rest of the summer, and im stuck solitary with my parents, no siblings for solace. I feel a stranger in a strange land, in germany, where the language sounds too hostile for me to feel welcome. So many foomps and ahcks and stressed syllables. But we are returning to france today, back where i can speak and not feel terribly touristy. And ill get to see amanda! How exciting :)

Had a most vivid dream last night. Hung out with marysia petra and erin, like old times. Then me and mash went shopping and lost pet and erin. But we went to a party and met up with erin again but petra was gone. There were guys being stupid and jumping off balconies and staircases and one hurt himself and became unconcious. justine appeared out of nowhere and we decided to call 911. But it was in french and i couldnt tell them where we were. Meanwhile people were desecrating the unconcious guy, putting him in embarassing positioms, like sticking his hand down his pants. I was the only one concerned for him, cuz the 911 call was useless cuz i was on hold. I ran to erin who was teaching people to apply lipstick and getting ready for a date. I asked her for myphone because i had given it to her cuz i didnt have pockets. She told me she had lost it and had to go change her clothes. I wanted my phone to call scott because i thought he had been jumping off things as well and i wanted to b

I've forgotten about this blog since ive been away. There's always so much happening, and yet nothing is changing. These places we see are fantastic, but I view them through clouded eye for my mind is elsewhere. I am the in-between, always. Present but always looking over my shoulder, the link in this family chain holding everyone in sight. My mother is always far behind, in her own world where life exists in film only and she must capture as much as she can before leaving. My father and sister glance only around them and make haste through these streets. And I am between, making sure my mother can tell which corner we turn down, if ever she looks up from her lens. She tells me it's her favorite sight, watching me watch out for her, head swivelled, searching. But i grow tired. It always takes twice as long for her to accomplish anything and we are left lagging around as she slowly makes he way to us. But regardless of our annoyance she continues without a second thought to

I have little options for escspe, no physical reprieve, locked in a car with four people, wishing i could leave. The streets we travel are gorgeous but their beauty has no hold, because im locked in a car with four people listening to arguments unfold. My mothers will is rigid, convinced shes always right and we have no legs to stand on, crushed beneath her might. And so we sit in silence, me with my headphones in, no point in waging war if theres no way you can win.

you have such beauty but you're too blind to see. the only explanation for it is that your soul emits such bright light it's given you cataracts.

you have fire in your veins and you burn the air as you breathe it in. you are incinerating. creating beauty in the mere form of thoughts, caught behind your eyes, they make them shine like embers. I remember the first time I met you, the tips of your hair were bright red, and you said your father was a hairdresser. I thought that was rad. because my dad just worked for an oil company and I never thought it was interesting. But you looked like you had stories that needed telling. the way you carried yourself was compelling, as if you'd locked so many things in side you you couldn't help but drag your feet as you walked. But they were things you never talked about. I tried to pry them out but you clung to your secrets like a drowning man to a raft in a turbulent flow, afraid to let go. And one day i realized the only way to know, was to dive in with you. So i took off my shoes and swam in to that depth you kept tucked away, hidden beneath your wing like the whole world was hungr

Marriage is a wonderful institution, but who wants to live in an institution?

'advertising has us chasing cars and clothes. working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need.' I don't want to fall into their traps. All I want from life is a reliable car to take me to far away places; a reliable body, stronger not skinnier, to carry me where cars cannot; a reliable house where I may rest at the end of the day; and a reliable man to be there by my side through and through.

i havent been able to write in forever. i set myself up, on your marks get set go, but I never hear the gunshot. I'm too busy planning what I'll one day write, fighting with myself when i cant get my legs moving properly. I stagger stupidly down the track, attacked by all my feeling of inadequacy. I haven't been able to find that perfect subject. I'm saving my poetic virginity for that ellusive mr right, but in reality im getting fucked in the ass by my pickyness. every subject is only as good as I'll make it, and i hate it. I have no inspiration because I'm holding my breath, waiting for the day something will take it away. I walk with tunnel vision, missing the details, the tidbits of life that happen constantly. I'm ferociously searching in all the wrong places, pursuing the wrong chases. I am running so fast, everything is a blur. I've forgotten how to sit still, patience has evaporated and been replaced with anxiety. I'm fighting a constant bat

ever since school`s been out i`ve neglected my poetry. I never find the time or the inspiration to write. I feel like I`m saving myself for the perfect theme, but in doing so i just get fucked by the elusiveness of said subject. I need to write about the mundane. about the everyday, keeping my motors running so that when that certain perfect idea comes along my gears will run smoothly and not be clogged by the rust of disuse. Easier said than done. But lets give it a whirl. My head is fuzzy from wine, and my heart tumultuous with emotion after a phone call with my love. I had left the party early because as always, when I drink I am drawn to him, and yearned to talk to him. I called him right as I left, hoping to squeeze in as many precious minutes before sleep ensnared him. In total I was granted 11 minutes and 31 seconds, talking about normal these and that's before he was engulfed in drowsiness and had to hang up. I don't fully understand how my mind works, and I really wish

my imperfections have been exploited to fund the police department.

Tonight I had my first encounter with the law. I had just made love to my boyfriend and we were relishing in the warm feelings of connection as we held each other close. When a rap on the side of our westfalia, followed by a voice 'city police, open your door.' knocked us from our heavenly perch. we scrambled to redress as inconspicuously as possible, and while scott got fully dressed i only managed to find a sweater to put on, and wrapped the rest up in blankets (how obvious that was.) so we open the door and they don't hesitate to tell us that the park is closed (oops..) and continued to ask if we were having a "shag" (who calls it that anymore?) and if we were smoking weed. They already assumed both these things and were determined to charge us for both. so they asked how much weed we had and we said not that much. They asked for all of it and scott gave them his newly purchased eighth. Luckily they believed that was all, and didnt take my three roaches and pip

The sky was beautiful today. columns of cloud spinning and bending slowly, sun streaming, rain falling, stretching out for further than the eye could see. When i look up i forget myself. losing myself in the sheer vastness, so much space enfolds me, surrounds me. and i am smaller than a speck on this great earth that expands from where i stand for miles and miles and miles and miles. It's a beautiful feeling. that so much exists around us that we can't possibly be that important, and my actions will have no great reactions. my problems send no lasting waves to distant shores, only ripples that fade before spreading too far. we often get caught up in human activity, entrenched in our lives, our duties, our dues, that we take ourselves too seriously. sure it's good to be a functioning role in society, but there's so much more to life. and so much less. life is simple in the wild. you live each day to survive, and humans have taken life for granted because of it's acce

you're living a lie. threading falsehoods into a spindled web, catching your little prey, wrapping them up with your words. you spin us around, convincing us you're the bigger man. when you are nothing but a child trapped in a man's body, young and temperamental. you talk a pretty good game from the stage, but you've just built a castle with your pen, enclosing yourself in a fortress of love poems, happy poems of your conquest and your skill. but at the tallest tower is a boy sitting in a throne too big, wearing an over-sized crown. You've been bested, and you're wounded, but unlike an injured animal stalking away to preserve your dignity, you wont have it. You lash out with your pride guiding you, aiming to hurt she who has overthrown you. And what a shame. you act in bursts, letting your emotions control you. your ego is engorged and you fight blindly, seeking to make right but all you're doing is digging yourself a grave, until we're all looking down

(5) Tumblr (clipped to polyvore.com )

I just had the greatest day ever with my lover scott. we went to supertramp high on mushrooms and though it was a rough start (i felt like puking) it got great once they came on stage. the music was so great, and the crowd was trippy, and just being there with scott, all bubbly and smiley in his shrooms high, it was just such great energy all around. then after the freaking amazing set and encore we shuffled out and we were still a high and the night air was so refreshing and just the perfect temperature for a walk, we took the long way home , walking the scenic route back to the car, then rolled a doob whilst reminiscing about how great the music all was. then we went to the ramsay view over downtown and smoked it and had a mind blowing discussion about pretty much everything. i realized in that moment that i could never forgive myself if i settled down in a city. Calgary will not be my home for very much longer, i hope. I need a place with nature, that's for sure! But after the c

I feel that familiar tug of emptiness inside once again. I can feel it spreading, pulsating through me. It sits in my ribcage, chewing at my heart. It corrupts my blood and sends it surging through tired arteries. The Groove Shack is now empty and mangled. Filled with the debris of crashed-through ceilings and bashed down walls, broken glass from smashed windows. Most of them self inflicted wounds from those who knew the house best, who felt the need to have a part in its destruction before it was out of their hands. The house was scheduled for demolition, to make way for a more profitable abode. Knowing this, the house spiraled into disrepair, wounded by raucous parties and no motivation to clean up the next day damage. The walls were covered in crude but enjoyable drawings and spray paint tags, souvenirs of everyone who'd visited and left their mark. The last few weeks I noted how each room's old charm disintegrated slowly, each gaining unpleasant qualities. Garbage was sca

Ive had this reoccurring dream that I'm in a dirty public bathroom and it's crowded with both genders and its huge and the stalls don't fit properly and I have no privacy and I really have to pee. I just though it was about my fear of public bathrooms, but apparently not: To dream that you are in a public restroom with no stalls or that there are a lot of people around while you are trying to do your business, signifies your frustrations about getting enough privacy. You are always putting others ahead of your own needs. As a result, you are lacking a sense of personal space. Alternatively, the dream indicates that you are having difficulties letting go of old emotions. You are afraid that if you reveal these feelings, then others around you will judge and criticize you. If you dream that you are in a bathroom meant for the opposite sex, then it suggests that you are overstepping your boundaries.You have crossed the line in some situation.

I left the room without saying goodnight. i mumbled something incoherent and unimportant and turned away and left. I felt bad, sort of. As if saying good night was something so hard to do that I'd rather just walk away. But the thought of any personal connection was uncomfortable. It made no sense, but somehow it just ended up that way. There had been a time of crisis, of trauma, that left our communication breathless. And starved of oxygen, cell by cell, it began to die. But as the heart restarted and air once again passes through us, we have escaped death. But with the price of dead nerves, never letting us grow closer. scarred tissue stopped us from speaking as we once had. The confidations of a young daughter to her mother were lost forever, replaced with the wounded distance of an estranged teen.

i love the wrinkles you leave on the bed sheet in the morning.

there's someone in my head, but it's not me. and it kinda feels good. I've had a sort of realization. That beautiful places exist, with beautiful people. And I can have my mind blown in the most amazing way. I have now tried every drug I wanted to, now it's just time to refine my highs and lows. and only the best environments will do. Windswept cliffs with wave-cut caves in which we blast pink Floyd into the natural surround sound of sedimentary sand and ocean pebbles. Forgetting time, only told by the rising of the swirling tides and the setting of the western sun in a bed of water. where nothing mattered but the basics. that we had food in our stomachs and shelter from the wind, because our hearts were full of the freedom of nature, bursting like balloons, floating through the forest trails. swiftly we ran through knotted ground, down rivers that streamed through the trees, upon trees upon trees. red dirt made from wood upon wood. cool green shadows shiver through tr

ive concluded that my body hates me. after realizing I'm newly lactose intolerant and cant eat the slightest bit of dairy without my intestines wringing themselves into knots and keeping me up all night, i find out i have a UTI. it took a week to get the medication for it, and after i take it, it fucks up my kidneys, a rare side effect. Not wanting to feel the pain of a sore back and tender internal organs again, i hesitate to take the second dose. But my parents demanded that I do, so here I am again, unable to stand without feeling pain all through my back. and on top of all of it, i'm getting sick, because the antibiotics are destroying my immune system. wooooo.

Less than a week of school left. Motivation is dwindling in the face of a program change, and the irrelevance of all my current credentials. Though i should keep up my gpa, maybe get a scholarship. I could do with the Jason lang. But I feel good lately. Though it’s unfortunate I’ve wasted two years and over five thousand dollars, I feel unchained with the revelation that I have the freedom to do whatever I want. I need school to be interesting, tailored to what I really want to learn. And I plan to find that perfect degree that will teach me everything I want to know. Environmental science is looking great right now, because it’s only a 3 year degree and I get to work and get paid the last two semesters, getting my foot into the door of the earth’s job sector. I just hope I can work for something great. Something where I’m outdoors and I can surround myself with the simple beauty of nature while getting paid to protect it. You know what would be great? If I could become the next Da

rant: commencing. oh how i wish you could read minds. so i dont have to bother you with my problems, you could just know they existed and be the knight in shining armor. but i don't want to bring you down to my level. dont want to tell you what's bothering me because i feel like i'm just complaining, and im afraid it bores you. that's my biggest fear. is that my problems are so frequent they become a burden instead of an opportunity to heal. i just really need you. i remember when we first started dating i told you i never wanted to need you, but i need to be wanted. i need you to want to help. and i know you do. but there's always that fear. that unloading myself upon you will bury you and you'll be helpless, pinned like a butterfly and having to watch as i struggle on my own, because sometimes you're clueless. but that's fine. you try to and you've been getting better, but i am a complex woman. a fragile woman who is built out of sand and comes cra