goddamn

what if... everything i'm doing is for nothing? What if dr. beyler is simply humoring me- what if i really don't have the talent, i've been fooling myself and convincing my self that i'm a damn big fish, a big smart fish, but i'm living in a basketball sized pond. when i'm transferred to the lake i'm dead meat. eaten immediately. more fit to chug it out in my little fish bowl, than to get transferred... out into the open water...
should i ask him? i wonder what he'd say.

ok, mom?

don't read the rest of the blog. Please. don't read any more. ok? love you.

this sinking

feeling sucks. there are things I know; and there are things that i regret, there are things that i would rather not be true. Baggage I would rather not exist. Memories that I wish would go away. There are people that haunt my conciousness, people that no longer occupy the sameness that they were for me; and yet I condemn them to their pasts, as I do myself at times. Particularly as I lay in my bed, my secondary sheets rub slight holes in my skin, as my memories do on my brain, too rough for my delicate awareness, now. Why the stabs of guilt and memory? The pangs of past that hit me when i need to sleep, when i need to write? Are you remembering me as well? For all the forgetting I have attempted, the nonchalance I affected when casting you off or trying to forget you, the bile in my belly rises and attacks me when your visage presents itself in my brain. I am sorry. I do miss you, many of you- and I think of you, too often right now for my own good.

this happens every time. love reminds me of past love, desire of past transgressions. I am becoming jaded as I attempt to never repeat my past mistakes.

i wrote this a long time ago, not sure exactly how long:

as much as i ever loved you that fullness still lives in my heart cold & hot all at the same time & when i take a moment to look i see your pretty face looking back because you are caught too
I have no idea for how long though
our circles will not coincide
forever

could it be

that my love for you speaks
contradicting me and my idealism

i want you to be happy
and get what you need
someone who can give you
things that scare me

why waste your time?
i'm too unstable
impractical
wrong
i'm too much
i love you too much
to hurt you later
it might be easier now
even if i have to die a little

i want to give you everything
especially now
when i should be trying
practicality

...

my eyes

can hardly open
anymore
a long day
long hours
spent
thinking of you

your soft skin
against my cheek
your smell fills my senses
even though...
you're not here

can i clutch tight
to these small tokens
things left
forgotten
in my room

hold them
feeling their
you-ness

nothing like
your soft skin
against my cheek
it is a stale scent
although welcome
plenty.

sigh

i haven't felt this way in a long time. baby, you have been a shining light in my life- i won't ever take you for granted. whatever happens, don't forget me, don't forget what we've done. i love you.

it is horrible

to see folks that I went to high school with on friendster/myspace, or really anywhere on the internet. y'know why? because high school was painfully embarrassing. And I was a fucked up drug addict in high school. I was probably absolutely horrible to folks and I might not remember any of it. And then I see folks that did messed up shit to me, and I wanna find them and beat the shit out of them. or hug them and tell them its ok. at least something emotional and restorative.

Hey everyone, I'm sorry I was a fucked up addict. I'm not anymore. I put my life back together, I'm healing myself- and i'm scared shitless to talk to most of you. so there we go.

Jordan, I'm sorry. Charlotte, you were awfully mean to me, but I'm sure I deserved some of it. I remember sitting in Jordan's living room, probably coming down or something as melodramatic, and crying about how it felt like no one cared, no one loved me. James looked at me and said, well maybe that's because no one does. I stopped crying.

i just wanted to feel ok, and drugs did that for me. for a little while. Just trying to get by. What did the other kids without mamas do? What did the other kids with overworked parents do? I dunno. This is what i did. Snorted and smoked meth. ick.