Like vapor through your lungs

I.
Moments stolen
While secrets were whispered
In a world
Where we belonged to each other
As darkness
Wrapped it's claws around us
And you took my breath away


II.
I felt my walls cave in
As you stood on the outside
And watched me break
As love
Intangible
Built bricks
Between you and i


III.
Silence
Speaks volumes
And i see through your lies
As words
Rehearsed and well recited
Offer empty comfort
To frustrations you cannot imagine


IV.
And i held you
Like it was our very last moment
As i let you slip from my grasp
Or perhaps i slipped from yours
And i watched myself burn


V.
One week to a year
And i wondered if you knew
Or if the days dragged on
And if you still felt
Or loved
Like you did
When tears wet your cheeks
And you told me you wanted more, more, more
As we rearranged lives
And i tucked my heart in your pocket
And i wondered if you could still hear it beat
Or if temptation mutes your mind
As i let myself be swallowed
By ghosts
And if it hurts you
To watch me disappear.

Sometimes I think that i'll always be discontent with my life. That there will always be some aspect that i believe could be better. I wonder if maybe this is not such a bad thing, because in a way, it keeps me working towards something bigger. I, however, tend to hold unrealistic expectations for the way that things should or could be, hence making it near impossible to reach. And in the rare instance that i do achieve it, i tend to downplay the accomplishment so that i don't feel too good about it.

And yet here i sit, criticizing people for not living in reality.

My mother once told me that i was tragic. I disagreed at the time, attributing much of my mishap to the fact that I was an angsty depressed teenager, but as i'm getting older, i'm not so sure she was wrong. I tend to live under the assumption that it's easier to believe someone will let you down, than to believe that someone is well worth my trust. I suppose this, in and of itself, is a self fulfilling prophecy because my behavior in turn reflects this idea.

I'm always so sure that i'm not worth your affection.

I feel like i'm suffocating underneath mounting insecurity and doubt, and that i'm stuck in a perpetual state of heartbreak, even though I'm sure none of these feelings are warranted, and if asked to explain why, i would probably be at a loss for words.

I just can't handle the vulnerability.

You told me this probably wasn't good for me- being so fragile. And you're probably right. I just don't know how to stop being fragile around you.

I figure this is just a result of my own personal hang ups and baggage, and at times, i wish i could forget all of that and stop worrying. But then, if i didn't have baggage and hang ups, then i would know nothing of relationships. Sometimes i'm positive that everything i've learned about loving someone and being loved is completely wrong, and i wish that i didn't adopt such a cynical view on the subject, but without that cynicism i'm afraid i would find myself void of any defense mechanism.

Sometimes i think that people are innately unfaithful, whether it be emotional or physical. I've learned that social networking sites are a vessel for infidelity, and that everyone, whether they mean to or not, has some sort of inappropriate online relationship with someone they shouldn't. After all, the online world makes it so easy. However in my case, my social anxiety and extreme shyness transcends that online barrier and i still find it incredibly difficult to meet new people online.

I just wish i knew what the ultimate goal was. I wish i knew how important relationships are, or if they're important. I wish i knew how important vanity is and if it really matters how pretty you are. I wish i had a definition for success, and if success is measured in personal feats or money. I wish i knew if it was possible to love someone forever, or to be loved forever, or if its an inevitability that people fall out of love.

I wish i could tell you how deeply i care for you, and that i think the world of you. Sometimes i just worry that it doesn't matter what i think, that we get so concerned with the outside world and other people and other opinions, that you forget that i'm right here.

I held her hand for longer than usual and she turned her head to look at me. She pushed her index finger against my nose and smiled. I felt worlds away from her, and from you, but i was desperately seeking comfort to soothe my inexplicable loneliness.

I rubbed her hair and she nestled her body closer to mine. I watched, as for a fleeting second, sadness appeared on her face, and i wondered if it was mine she felt. She muttered quietly about her father and his home in St. Paul and in that moment i realized that she was struggling to understand her own sadness. Her eyes met mine and i wanted to hug her, and tell her i was sorry. I wanted to tell her that she wasn't alone, and i wanted to try to understand impermanence through her, as if it would make sense to me thereafter. I wondered if it was easier to be her.

And then i thought about love. I wanted to tell her that i loved her. I wanted to tell her that she changed my life, and that her exuberance moves me. I wondered if love was truly as simple as she believes it to be. I wondered if all it really takes to love somebody is to care, and to have them care about you.

And then i thought about you. I wondered if your love would last through the weekend, or if you thought of me when i wasn't there. I wondered if love has an expiration date, or if we would grow away from each other, or if that was unavoidable. I wondered if you do love me, or if these self imposed complications and expectations and intricacies that we understand about relationships cloud what raw emotion we feel. Or, that i feel.

I feel so... collectable.

I wondered if recycled words would help quell my insecurity, as love is a phrase we both have spoken before, perhaps to people we felt for, and to people we haven't. You told me you made that mistake once, but never again. I wondered if i was a mistake as well. I thought about all the times I've wrapped my arms around you and so desperately wanted to tell you everything that i felt. I wondered if there was more of me you thought you needed to know, or if, perhaps, you knew less, it might come easier.

I'm one beer in, and that much closer to heartbreak.

I think if i could have one wish, it would be to hug Jeff Buckley, and thank him for getting me through all these rough times. And then I'd close my eyes and hear his voice, and find warmth through his pain, or his joy, or his love.

I found myself crying over loss and heartache that never belonged to me in the first place.

I wish, for a moment, that i could show you what i feel, so that we could speak without speaking, and so that understanding would come without first asking.

I'm drowning myself in unspoken expectations, all the while trying to swallow the fact that I'm a hypocrite.

More than anything, i wish you were here. But i couldn't bear for you to see me like this anyway.

This is not, in any way, going to be a poetic, or thoughtful entry. In fact, it's probably going to be an irrational, petty rant about how I'm dissatisfied with things that I really have no right to be dissatisfied with. And yes, i know, "get over it!"

Anyway. Just a disclaimer i suppose.

I'd like to start by saying that i read half of the book, "Everybody hurts: An Essential Guide to Emo Culture" and that if you have ever enjoyed bands such as Thursday, Taking Back Sunday, Weezer, Dashboard Confessional, Fall out boy... (Insert other generic, highly successful emo band here), crying in the dark, bad haircuts, skinny jeans and band t-shirts, then you should read this book. Oh yea, it's probably best if you approach it with a sense of humor. I couldn't help but laugh as the book described the lifestyle in which i swore by circa 2002-2006 (RIP Emo Karen).

The irony in this situation is that there were probably 5 pages dedicated to explaining that Live Journal is the end all be all of blog sites for sad emo kids, and here i am, on live journal, about to delve into a sad emo blog.


Anyway, i realized today, while everyone else was out drinking and wearing green beads and plastic hats, that i was stuck at work, watching reruns of crime dramas on the CBS prime time lineup. The depression set in when i realized that the most i had to look forward to that night was finding out who planted the bomb in the truck on "The Mentalist."

Don't get me wrong, in general, i love my job. And more than that, I love my residents. They've taught me to be tolerant on a level beyond what i could have imagined, and they've also helped me to understand the simplicity and the intricacies in loving somebody. It's amazing what you can feel when you're forced to take care of someone.

However, the splits i work daily, and the fact that I'm evening staff, has severely stunted my social life. (At least, in comparison to what it used to be). My free time is from 9:30 am to 2 pm, i get off work at 10 pm, and then I don't have time to go out because i have to be at work at 6:30 the next morning. I live with my boyfriend, and it feels like we never see each other for more than an hour a day. So, i have Saturdays to: spend time with my boyfriend, get laid, catch up with friends, relax, sleep in, play guitar, do art (haha, maybe), watch movies, drink, dance, socialize. I usually end up doing almost nothing on that list, and instead, relaxing in my pajamas on the futon all day because at the end of the week I'm in dire need of a mental health day.

(Big, exaggerated, earth shattering emo sigh).

Maybe things feel a bit mundane right now. I can't remember the last time I did something truly worth remembering.

I feel like I'm stuck in a pattern that I unintentionally chose, and now that I've huffed and puffed about how I'm soooo an adult, I can't back down and say, "Oh just kidding guys, I'd like an allowance and infinite freedom to make dumb mistakes and be drunk at noon."

I've realized my life consists of 2 main phrases. They are:
1. Get out of the fridge, you don't need any more snacks, it's 8 pm and you already had an ice cream bar.
And-
2. Did you poop? Well make sure you wipe yourself, and you need to put a Depends on when you're finished in there.

Along with that come 2 main activities. These are:
1. Explaining, and then re-explaining, and then explaining again, why we can't eat 10 ice cream bars smothered in cheese and butter, and finishing that off with a glass of chocolate syrup and whipped cream. Obviously, because it's unhealthy. And it'll make you fat.
And-
2. Donning some latex gloves, arming myself with a roll of flimsy toilet paper, spreading someones butt cheeks, and cleaning out excess, left over bowel movement.

I kind of wish i could change those 2 activities to writing music with ivy, and smoochin' my boyfriend.

Don't worry guys, I'm not completely negative. On the plus side, I can finally financially support myself (rent AND bills), and I can afford to go out whenever I want.

I think I lost my train of thought.

I'm going to go have a beer, and watch some mystery science theater.

Ugh. I could just kill you.



Uncertainty
And secrets
Might be the death of us
As thoughts
And thoughtlessness
Come to mind
And comfort
Is killing me



I wish i could swallow this jealous rage, but lately being stressed out seems to be in.


I just wish you knew. I wish i didn't have to call you out on everything before you would start caring.


It seems love is not as comforting as i once imagined it to be.

In darkness
Where blankets
Like a cocoon
Hold the weight of my love
And for a brief moment
You are mine
Tucked away
In a secret world
Where i can see through you
And you know me
Drifting off to pillow talk
And dreaming of your arms
Wrapped tight
Tighter
Around my chest
And wishing
For love
And hoping
You can read my mind
In moments apart
Do you drown in uncertainty?
Or is it just me
Gasping for air
As i fall
Head first
Into this infinite sea
Of insecurity
And wanting
Lonely, you said.
Lonely, i replied.



I'm feeling rather restless and unsatisfied lately. This fresh blanket of snow doesn't help to ease the winter blues either.

Thank God for days off. It's time for an eggs benedict and some serious me-time.

Welcome to my LJ dude!


So i decided to start writing again because Ivy told me to, and i should probably have an outlet, and a place to post my writing.


I just deleted 2 years of my internet life (2005-2006) and all i can say is goooooood riddance.




I wish love were simple.