i went to see next year's school today.

it hit me like a ton of bricks, standing in that dorm room, that my bed won't be my bed anymore, that my bathroom is going to be three other peoples' bathroom, that i'm going to a small school and that it makes me feel lonely.

but i like the trees.

[i want to be what you think i am.
and i want to make you proud.]

i am just a big ball of "fuck you" right now.
not even cool.)


tired as tired.

i have no idea where i stand.

i don't even know myself, i think. well, i do. maybe too much. maybe i am so surrounded by people who are unsure that it is making me unsure in my sureness. i wish it weren't so.

there is so much unlove. i don't like it. there is so much sad, there is so much fear, there is so much pretentious, there is so much disgust, there is so much unlove. and i don't want it anymore. i don't want it for you, for me - for the dreamers. for the alive. for the lovers. for the fate.

i am loved, and i know that. and i like it. but i am discontent in it. i'm sorry, i am. there is something insufficient in the way i'm being loved. i feel alone in it, i feel asleep when i'm awake, i feel like i am not there when i obviously am in the middle, i feel like shit. there are enough people that don't notice me and don't acknowledge my love that it hurts what could've been so good. i'm sorry. i see all that i have and i feel so terrible for being stuck in what i don't have. but i am human. i am human, and i will always want what i don't have.

i want a fucking award for being alive, for being me. if everyone got an award for being themselves, it would be great. people would do it so much more often.

i just want someone to fucking notice what i've done. can you see it? i've done something big! something bigger than i thought. i graduated two years early. i was in shows. i sang. i danced (poorly). i've given away my heart. i've given away my soul. i've lost myself, i've found myself, and lost myself again. look at all i've done! don't you see me? do you even know me? you don't even care. you never cared, but you pretended to. but that's ok, i don't blame you. i've done it before.

i don't know.

i say that all the time; i don't know. because i don't. and at least i acknowledge that. that i don't know a goddamned thing in this world that is actually worthwhile. i went to school for years upon years to do what? i don't know.

i don't fucking know.

(i know why you killed yourself, i can see it, i can feel it, i can taste it in my mouth when i yearn.
i know why you couldn't do it any longer.

hanging on a star, right?)

i don't want to do this, but i have no option.
because i am too weak to do what i want to do.
deep down.

[it's different writing now that i know people are reading, but i just wrote this as if nobody would. so there you go. it's actually sort of an accomplishment, i think.]



I am too clumsy to hold you in my hands because I will drop you, I will drop you and you are so fragile in my heart. I am just a blanket of yearning laying over a lost soul, I am fighting to keep it but it'll be gone by the time it's open. Please save me. Please save me as many times as you can because as we know it gets trying and you can't just keep opening yourself into my arms for my sake and I'm sorry it makes you tired but maybe, for once, I'll save you.

You are going to fill me up with broken pencils and broken ideas. You are going to build me buildings of straw, give me tears of fresh water. I am not going to sing for that.

You're clever in your sigh. It fills a room, it echoes inside.
You're clever in your sigh and its imperceptible air of contentment.
But I can see the inside of your mouth
With it so wide open like that
And therefore, I know everything.



in my dream, i was naked.
i've never been naked, even in a dream, like that.
not in front of anyone.
and there i was, in front of hundreds of people, in the middle of a soccer game at a school i was attending, in front of everyone i knew, running around a field and telling people to be free.
to let themselves go.
that this nakedness was what we all needed.

i was myself.

and everyone was happy.

everyone was so happy that there was someone who wasn't afraid to run naked in a field in front of hundreds of people. to be raw. to be uninhibited. to be so open, so open about everything that you are just naked.


in front of everyone.

this is the most symbolic dream i've ever had, because this is how i feel, now.
that i'm naked, and that's ok.
because everyone understands that i am.
and everyone is going to join me, eventually, or so i hope.

[remember that time when we were talking about how afraid i was to be naked?
i don't think i am anymore.
which is pretty significant.]


ne me quitte pas, mon cher.

i can feel all the different pieces of you sticking into my skin.


loose change

(for now)

are you?

[it is midnight]


again, again.

there's nothing here for me anymore.

i am so attached to everyone and everything, but honestly...it was never what it needed to really be, this high school experience. there were too many misunderstandings, too many things that were hidden, too many things i shouldn't have said. too many changes.

i am moving and i am glad. i am moving away from so many things, but in all honesty, i am just moving on. onwards and upwards. if i lose you, i am sorry. but...fate does what it does. and i will try to keep you. i am going to try to keep you so much.

but you have to help me.

[i threw my head back to scream
and no sound came out;
my throat was stuck.]

i can't tell you my dreams because i'm too embarrassed,
but sometimes,
i get close.


in need of answers.

i've got that funny feeling in the pit of my stomach again.

i'm not, and i am.
i never was, and i always will be.

i'm losing what i've found and finding what i've lost.

i'm happy and i'm confused (i'm always confused) and i don't know anything anymore.

(i want to make good decisions.)



just when i thought life was something it wasn't, these people happened.

oh my god, these people.

thank you.

nothing's perfect, but you are all beautiful.

(there is a cactus sitting next to my fake-jade buddha now to remind me why i get up in the morning.
i am going to thank god for it every day.
it is symbolic and beautiful.
and a cactus, so it's also hard to kill, which is great.
it is coming to college with me.
i am thankful.)



you make me happy
when so little seems to these days

please stick around. please stick around.

[and i don't want to leave you, either.]



i don't know what to tell people anymore.

i haven't got words that sound sufficient, anymore.



it's getting so nice and sunny outside

[i hope i muster up the courage to open my blinds]

(it was an existential crisis, i think those were the words.
and now that things are falling, but falling into place
it's so much clearer and correct.)


feeling out loud

surreal living 101

i don't even know what's going on half the time
but hey, whatever, it keeps happening, it's all good

hey camus, is this your absurd?
i never did finish reading your book.

but i'm not a finisher these days.


what we want.

well, maybe not forever.



i really like doing this.
hopefully it doesn't get obnoxious to whoever actually reads this. (i never know)
i just found this and don't even remember writing it. strange.
sometimes i blank out.

Maybe the land is created or maybe it is fallen into the sea, perfectly, into darkness and recreation. Maybe the light isn't really light but an old fuse blown out to prevent ideas from exiting your tired old mouth. This taste inside my nostrils is too much for comfort, too much for fear. I am overcome with senses. with fatigue. but soft is the hand that sings of water, yearns for sand. Soft is the idea of love. Warmth is functioning as a vessel for our souls, you and me, on a boat of boats to deliver our message. I have an itch inside my brain but i am only capable of scratching as far as my hair. My cheeks, though, find themselves quite red, quite appallingly blushingly red always. I'm not blushing, just me, just always slightly pinkish in color. My ankles were crossed in the most malevolent fashion, like heroin, like a heroine, but nobody could tell. The skirt was too long to see anything but ten unpainted toes, ten signs of apathy and natural beauty. There was no hiding from it. Laziness is telling me to nap, but determination is taking hold of all I've ever told you. It's almost time, it's always almost time, we are almost free. Surge up and over, all over, and love me.

i only remember writing the word heroin, because as i wrote it i thought "wtf"
but that's about it.