quarta-feira, 26 de abril de 2017

I'm not what you need



It's not me... I'm not the one you're looking for, nor am I the one you dream of. I'm not the one you need. I am fire and I am ice. I am stillness and I am furious sound. I am a witch's wind and soft lullaby. I am everything, I am nothing. As for hate and love... I am neither. 

I am not the love you are looking for, I am not the one you found. I am not the hate you now harbor within since I left. I am nothing, I am everything. 

I am not what you need, I am not love, or passion, or grace. I am not the obedient wife you dream of, I am not the happy girlfriend you wanted to show off. I am not the evil spinster cursing your life. I am not the witch who stole your heart. I was a replacement... and for some time you were happy with these delusions that I might be what you need... but I am not. I am not what you need. I am not what you want.

I am a free spirit. I am me. I am a wild fire set by misery. I am the rain that pours as mystery. I am and I am not. I am all, I am nothing. But as for happiness and sadness... I am neither.

I am unsure of everything, of myself. Of love and time and my role in this universe... but one thing I am so very sure of, down to the marrow of my bones, I'm not what you need. I am not the one you love. I am not her. And I shall never be anyone but myself. So there you have it... I am not what you need.




The Staves - Tired AF


Tired as fuck
wish me luck, wish me luck...


This is sort of how I feel at the moment. I certainly am tired as fuck. I'm tired of all the bullshit. I'm tired of being pushed around. I am so tired... I just want to sleep. I want to sleep for 5 years. I want to sleep for 5 years and wake up to a whole new different world. Trump won't be president. I will no longer be a fuck-up. Music will sound good again, no more pop-tarts shaking their nakedness at me making me feel inadequate. Music will make us feel again. Music will make me feel again. And I'll open my eyes, smile and sing a sweet song. I'll be whole again. I'll be the person I was before. I so want to be me again...

take me somewhere nice


Looking bad at my track record of infatuations, boyfriends and loves... none of them took me anywhere nice. It was all about the fleshy, sweaty, sticky, non-stop, sex. Weekends between the sheets in my own apartment. Only come up for air. And food. Back at it. No walks in the park, or visits to a museum, or concerts, or movies... just days and nights of lustful sex. Maybe a cigarette after. Some meaningless conversation. Songs. More songs. Songs that would lead to some more sex. Another cigarette. Silence. Sleep. Sometimes I would wake up to an empty bed and the fantasy was shattered. Other times I would wake up and leave. I would walk around town early in the morning thinking about that one perfect night that would live in my memories forever. Do they know who they are? Are they reading this? Do they know if they were infatuation, boyfriend or love? I never told. And I never will...

I won't



I haven't been sleeping that well these past few nights. I keep dreaming of blood... like I'm swimming in it, or it's raining blood, or the blood flows from my veins and I'm surrounded by pools of my own blood. And I am just standing there, completely numb. Like I'm oblivious to what's happening. I don't know what that means to my current state of affairs. I have nothing going on except for work.

I think of him still. I worry about him. But it was time. I could not live that way anymore. I had lost myself. I didn't like who I was and who I was becoming. I'm at peace now. I loved him. I love him still. But I can't not be who I am. Sometimes love doesn't conquer all. This was one of those times. Seems love never conquers anything when it comes to me...

I did try. I tried so hard to make it work... but in the end, it just wasn't meant to be. I'm not built for love it seems. So I'll just give up on it forever. I'm done. I have all these wounds that won't heal. Old wounds. New wounds. Time to sit back and just breathe. Love feels a lot like going round and round in circles,,, eventually you fall down. I fell too many times now. I just want to sit the rest of it out.

I don't want to call him. I'm too weak to call him. Perhaps I'm not weak, just way too strong and I don't want to hurt him. But no one knows what happened to him. Seems he disappeared. I don't think I should get involved even though we did share so much together. I shouldn't. I won't.



quarta-feira, 19 de abril de 2017

(goodbye) Sleep on the floor - by the Lumineers



"
Cause if we don't leave this town
We might never make it out
                                                      "


And that's exactly what happened... We didn't make it at all. It's not your fault, but it's not mine either. I just couldn't live like that. I couldn't breathe and I wasn't myself.

I guess the price for the ability to breathe easy and be myself is loneliness. It was a choice I had to make, not just for me, but for you as well. I hope you find happiness. Goodbye.
                                                   









terça-feira, 18 de abril de 2017

Last night




I've spent the last four days in hell. I was really sick. Fever, sore throat, my whole body was aching and all I could think of was the past. But not like linear or coherent... It was like I was watching clips of the movie that is/was my life. I came to the conclusion that I've fucked up my life over and over and over and over again because I try to be someone I am not. I try to be what people expect me to be. And I have written about this before on this very same blog but I keep repeating that same mistake. Why?

I wish I could go back to when I was fifteen and just slap myself across the face. Would I wake up? Maybe not. I suppose I would still make the same stupid mistakes and still fuck up my life. In the end it's not just the trying to be someone else for someone that fucked up my life. It was a number of little stupid choices like: "I'm too tired. I'm not going to class today." or "This is too hard; I'm not even going to try. I'll just do the minimum." or "I'm still young. I can teach for a couple of years to make some money and then dive into my art". And that is what fucked up my life - wasted opportunities. Because dealings and relationships with boys and/or men are just life lessons, but wasted opportunities... you don't learn a thing from that. You just regret not taking the plunge or doing what you loved to do because you were trying to follow parental advice on how to be practical. What happens then? You end up working at a call center with a college degree and a master's.

So... to all you young-ins out there reading this - don't be stupid. Don't be afraid to do what you love. Don't take a break from classes. Give it 100% even when it's too hard and you hate the subject - always try and do your best. Don't end up like me. This is my advice to you and it would have been my advice to myself 20 years ago.

I guess that if my fucked up life can be a lesson to anyone out there reading this, it has served it's purpose and I will be content.

And this is what was spinning and creeping and crawling through my mind last night: missed opportunities, who shall remain nameless, my family, Paul (the best friend I rarely speak to these days - I'm just too depressed and don't want to bring him down with me), where I am now and where I could have been, where I could be in the future, ways to relieve anxiety, and I fall asleep.

I believe tonight will be most of the same: what was, what is, what could have been and what will be. My mind is stuck on this. I wish I could only think and focus on what will be. I don't want to drown in the past anymore. I don't want to relive my mistakes. I can't take them back. Would if I could. But I can't, so I won't. Those mistakes are like scars - they make me the person I am. Some of them are physical scars. But the emotional ones... those are the hardest to heal. Some of them are still festering wounds. But those too will heal, in time...


sexta-feira, 14 de abril de 2017

Don't be long - by Keaton Henson



Just wait and see... that's what I'm told by everyone. Wait and see and things will get better. But they never do. They just keep getting worse. But I say nothing. I just take all the "wait and see" and all the "things will get better" in silence as I push down all the angry words, I just want to scream! But I just sit there and nod, they walk away feeling better about themselves because their fucking Yoda-like words of wisdom got through. Well... newsflash. They didn't. It's all bullshit. YOU just wait and see...


quinta-feira, 13 de abril de 2017

Just listen

I feel numb... The tears run down my face but it's some sort of reaction automatically triggered by my body as a means to cope. My brain is shutdown, as is my heart. My eyes gush water as I stand still and stare into nothingness. When my head is about to explode from all the rivers and oceans of pain being purged through my eyes I crawl into bed and hold my knees and just fall there in a fetal position.

I try to sleep I can't. I turn over, and over, and over. 3 am turns to 5 am. And 5 am turns to 8 am. Every time I close my eyes feels like it's been 5 minutes. I can't get any rest. I don't rest anymore.
What should I do now? That is what keeps me awake at night... the anxiety, the fear of always choosing the wrong path. Which path is the right one? Which path will bring me peace of mind and stability? We are never really sure, are we? So why is it that some people are able to do it and I've been trying for so many years and never get that peace of mind and/or stability I so long for? I can't breathe and my heart is pounding.

I realize that there's no real way to know what lies ahead and that scares me to death. I panic. I can't sleep. I can't function. I get out of bed and go about my day as usual - there's the routine. The routine kicks in and I'm on auto-pilot. Incoherent thoughts try to break through but I am paralyzed by fear and anxiety. I just want to crawl back into bed and lie there in the fetal position. I want to wake up between 3 to 5 am to a different reality. I want to be okay. I don't want to live with this uncertainty like a sword over my head about to fall and split me in two. I can't breathe and my heart is pounding.

I know what you're all thinking which is what everyone says... and by everyone I mean the few people I try to explain what it feels like. You're thinking: "girl, it'll be alright". How do you know that? How can you sit there and tell someone that they will be alright? What would you do if she turns around to cross the street and gets hit by a car and dies? I guess that's a way of everything being alright - she's dead! She won't worry anymore. She won't panic anymore. She won't have to deal with anxiety and fear anymore. She'll be at peace (or so they say). There's no way to know anything. Don't tell people like me everything will be alright. Just listen... I can't breathe and my heart is pounding. But listen... I see you. You don't see me. I can't breathe and my heart is pounding so loud it might burst out of my chest. But listen... just listen.

Epilogue - Keaton Henson

Here's to me
I'm on the edge of my seat
Bound to fall
but I'm hoping you'll fall into me

Here's to us
Here's to the ties that I've cut
Along the way
Here's to the eyes that I've shut...



sexta-feira, 7 de abril de 2017

Take me back to the night we met



This song... I first heard it watching "13 reasons why" but I have to say... it took me back to my own past and I remembered how fucked up high school was and how it just got worst durin college. Listening to this song makes me think of you. I haven't seen or heard from you in a long time but I remember our innocence and fleeting happiness. This song captures a moment in time, from my past... sometimes I wish I could go back and relive that moment. Sometimes I do. I close my eyes and I am taken back to that night we met. And we dance. We dance and say nothing, but we say everything. Our silence is louder than anything and the world melts away... Then I open my eyes and I am back in my room listening to this song. Sometimes in a loop. Sometimes I listen to our song. Sometimes I cry. But every time I die.

quinta-feira, 6 de abril de 2017

You get the love you think you deserve



It broke... I don't know how or when, but one day I woke up and it was broken. Trust. When trust is broken everything else rots. It rots and it turns to dust and disappears.

That day I woke up different. I woke up and a tiny piece of my former self screamed so loud it sent shivers down my spine and I knew. I knew I had to leave. That tiny piece of my former self showed me I was a shell, a ghost, no longer myself. But that's what I do. I become who they all want me to be. Somewhere along our adventure I forgot to keep myself in check. I spent years trying to find myself only to stuff all of who I was into a teeny-tiny box in the back recesses of my mind. But that morning, as soon as I opened my eyes I knew I had to leave, I had to get my soul back.

I had stopped being who I was: I stopped writing. I no longer sang or listened to music. I stopped buying books and I didn't read anymore. I was a zombie you used whenever you felt like and when you were done, I would sit on the coach watching you play your fucking stupid games. And I sat there and thought of nothing. I sat there and slowly drained myself of everything I ever was until I was empty.

That morning, I opened my eyes and decided to leave, It was my first thought for the day. I could no longer be an empty shell. I planned my escape and then I got the call... my mother's cousin, the man who raised me had died. He died of cancer. I cried all afternoon. You tried your best to comfort me but after a few minutes everything went back to being all about you. What you wanted, what you needed - fuck everything and everyone else. You took, and took, and took... You took all of me and gave none of yourself. All you gave me where drunken drug induced "I love you". For a while, they meant the world to me, they made me feel special. But that morning, the tiny voice of my former self screamed, and I realized I fucking deserve better! I deserve to be loved for who I am. I deserve to be told "I love you" by someone who is not shit-faced drunk or completely baked. Then I remembered... "you get the love you think you deserve". And for so long I thought so little of myself, that I let myself fall in love with someone like you. I am so angry at myself. It's not your fault. I knew early on how and what you were, but I stayed. That's on me and I am sorry.

That night, after I mourned the person who took care of me for several years, I devised my escape plan. You swore you'd go into rehab. You didn't. I left. I never heard from you again.

And now... now I sit here alone. Writing this. Because I have finally gathered the courage to start being myself again. And this is who I am. People will try to break me, and they might take me down for a while, but I will always rise up. I will always wake up one morning and open my eyes to the truth. You get the love you think you deserve. I think I deserve to love myself...