everything has made sense for a given amount of time

My life has always meant to mean something. Why can't I just let go of this stupid idea of meaning? I don't really know anything so I don't see why I have to continue on this false path of knowledge. My ignorance keeps me afloat, keeps me in touch with the world around me.
I watched the life fall from my own eyes. I saw the voice leave from my throat in heavy waves, I saw the soul rise from my chest like ghosts, I felt the breath leave my lips like the lies that cling to my bones when I'm around other human beings. What do these people mean? Nothing. I could watch one of their lives fade before my eyes, and I would feel nothing.
My own apathy and distance only neutralizes me. I no longer become afraid when I realize my life is in danger. Instead, I see a challenge, a meaningless threat, a stupid dare. Whoever thinks they can kill me, whoever thinks they can destroy what I have, has never aimed very high, has never really fought for anything worth dying for.

The last time I looked at myself I noticed extremely simple things, like the unevenness of my complexion or the depth of my eye sockets, or the heaviness of the smoke that continues to linger in my throat long after I've fallen asleep, and I swear that it seeps out of the corners of my mouth before I can catch it or even know it exists. Now I see things that are more complex, like how I wake up to nothing every day. Like how I wake up to white washed walls and thick slats of sunlight that only remind me of how hard it is for me to enjoy a beautiful day. I watch the way it fades off of my wall, the way the white is drenched in yellow and how soft it can feel if only I could allow myself embrace its warmth.
I refuse to go outside. I refuse for the sun to paint me in beauty that I don't deserve, refuse to allow my soul to exist.
If God wanted this life for me, he didn't want me to know why. God doesn't want me to know anything, at least, that's the conclusion I've come to. To be in the dark is to be blind to any bias or goal. Instead, I choose to live because I have no choice. To be given a chance is to be given life, and that I do not deserve. None of us deserve the breath that fills or lungs and passes through our lips. None of us deserve the little nuances of consciousness we hold so dear.
I wish I could forgive everyone. I wish I could tell them, despite everything they've done, that it's okay. I also wish I could go to all the people who destroyed my life and tell them that it's all their fault.
But I can't, because I know it's my fault. That's why I don't blame anybody. That's why, when people tell me that I need to face my demons, I only see myself. And this is the same self that they go to extreme measures to convince me is beautiful. Which only tells me that these stupid doctorate degrees have no idea what the fuck they're talking about or who the fuck they're dealing with.
Why can't these people just tell me to accept my own evil? Why can't they just tell me to move on and away from it? Why are they so convinced that all my problems have stemmed from something else?
What if it's just ME?

okay i changed it again
sometimes change is good, because i'm not doing it again.

As you can see

I changed the template.
Do you like the old or new one better?

I think about your lips, and how they sunk into my mine like ships, and how the beating of these oceans make these rivers of our veins. I can't pretend that my eyes don't shed the same salt you have spilled into me, and my gut has become solid and empty, and I know it's different now. And my life is nothing like how it was before you came, and there's no way this can leave when I feel it everyday.
I know that I am still alive, but I can't feel the pulse that I used to take for granted. I know that the tips of my fingers have no nerve endings anymore, but I used to feel them harden above your throat. And when I lay, I can't pretend that my mind doesn't wander to things I acknowledge only in diaries and therapy sessions and to liquor bottles and people who wish they never knew. I know that I can't throw for shit. I know I can't understand, I know I can't hold my breath for very long, and I know I can't pretend anymore.
This is how I've faced a lot of things lately this is how I deal with it now.

beg (shane and shane)

here i am
one more day of not loving him the way he asks
in fact, my heart is singing praises to the things that make me feel alright

so i’m sinking fast like a stone heart should
and on the way down, i’ve done what i could
to try and try to turn this stone to flesh

i’m haunted by my God
who has the right to ask me
what, by the nature of my rebellion, i cannot give.

so i beg for you to move
i beg for you to move
i beg for you to break through

so here i am
got my deeds for the day
all my cute little words about how i am saved
am i saved?

could i love you with my mouth like a church kid should
at the end of the day, my words get burned as wood
oh
but i was good.

i’m haunted by my God
who has the right to ask me
what, by the nature of my rebellion, i cannot give.


these songs are noise in your ears
a clanging drum
you want my love



yes
this is about
GOD!!!!!!!!1

I see only what you see, face what you face, be who you want to be

The truth is you're the weak, and I'm the tyranny of evil men. But I'm trying, Ringo. I'm trying real hard to be the shepherd.

The 90's ruled

Two Words: Pastel platforms.

Devon Sawa and Macaulay Culkin

gave birth to Kristen Stewart

My dreams

Losing teeth.
Outdoor getaways near Vermont, Rhode Island, Massachusetts, Santa Cruz, Manhattan, San Francisco.
Picturesque hills, rolling and green and dotted with white chapels and houses.
Kissing Jesse.
Huge salt crested waves crashing on rocky shores.
Sick as a dog, late for work.
Underlying themes of separation and fighting for our love.
Being in boarding school also suggested the idea of being trapped like rats, surrounded by a bunch of idiots whose asses I'd have to kick on a regular basis just to get a little respect around here.

out of my element

No life updates, no one cares about that shit, let's move on, shall we?

It's natural for me to view society with the perspective of an outsider. I watch all their interactions, and I can't relate. I don't know how to act in relationships. I am only close to my family and those who have become family over the years. Friendships seem odd and hard to manage.
It's like, I see everybody else, but I am still so separate. I don't think we've experienced the same rites of passage. I definitely don't understand relationships of any kind and can't seem to get satisfaction from them (not just romantic, obviously, but all relationships). I wonder if this feeling of being alone in the world is just the quintessential young adult experience. I mean, I AM 21, and it's true that I don't know who I am at this point, but does this really just go away with coming of age?
I guess I used to be okay before a couple of years ago. I mean, I used to be pretty sure about things like who I was and what I stood for.
For some reason, now, I find myself wanting to lose my understanding or even empathy for other people and just choose to hate them. It's like what I used to say when I was 17, about how when you lose empathy for others, you start to "grow up", and, in turn, lose touch with humanity, lose the ability to love, lose your soul, etc. etc. I used to believe our relationship with the rest of humanity was crucial to our own personal identities. I used to be able to see both sides. And I was always the defense attorney among friends, standing up for those who weren't there to defend themselves, trying to keep the shit talking to a minimum.
But I don't know now. Things change.


PS Did you know Billy Bob Thorton wrote and directed Sling Blade? I didn't, but it just further confirms my original theory that Billy Bob is fucking RETARDED.

10/15/09

My mom thinks it's sick that I watch Forensic Files and enjoy it. She says it allows darkness into my heart, and it really does. I find myself wanting to know these murderers, wife killers, and child rapists, so I can try to understand them, just the smallest bit. Try to see them as human beings, even if just for a second, so I can ask, What's the deal here?
I can't imagine ever understanding or relating to people. Jesse is an exception. He was just kissing my thigh, and it still gives me butterflies. He will never stop being sexy to me, and I want him almost all of the time.

what do i know

what do i know about love
and what it takes to understand a person's heart
what do i know about compassion
and what it takes to understand a person's situation

what do i know about individuality
when every person i've met is exactly like me
what do i know about sacrifice
when everything i've given up has been to benefit myself
what do i know about strife
when i cry because the jeans i bought two months ago don't fit me anymore
what do i know about desperation
when the only things i've lacked are things i've refused to fight for

what do i know about death
and the way i fear the aftermath
what do i know about famine and drought
when i pour gallons water over my body just to wet my hair
what do i know about pain
and the blood that clumps in children's hair
what do i know about truth
if i deny it in public and refuse it alone.

So, today is the big day

Last day in Florida. Trying to get organized and say good-bye to those who have been my friends. It's nerve-wracking, all of this. I just hope everything turns out as planned.