As I lift my head to the sky, the cool wetness smacks my forehead, stinging my eyes and sliding down my cheeks. I tilt a little further back, breathing in the night air.
It's different. I feel agitated and unsettled in so many ways, and at the same time I can hardly keep my eyes open. Dark in the morning, dark at four. I can feel my heart start to sink a little deeper in my chest as it gets harder to wake up each morning.
This cold rain is sobering, and I long to go back out into it. I long for someone to share it with me.
My hands itch to throw colors on the wall, to pick up that chalk and stretch arching and curving across the gray smooth newsprint. I ache to stretch my arms, my legs- extend myself physically, creatively, mentally.
Sober up baby- now's the time to make it count. Study until your eyes bleed. Now is not the time to dick around- only a few more classes and the semester is over.
Make it work, gotta make this work.
Fucking shit, it's way too hard to focus when all I want to do is fall into a coma and sleep until the sun comes up again.
Life isn't easy, and it sure isn't going to get any easier from here on out.
It's been much too long since I've placed my thoughts into words.
All too much has happened, yet it can be summed up into to one all encompassing word: college.
With it brings the feelings of hope, promise, despair. Life-changing experiences, that's for sure.
First night, first kiss. Sober and beautiful and real and all tangled up in your limbs and I will never forget the way you nibbled at my shoulder and whispered in my ear. I'm not one to rush into things but it was unique and different and who's to say people can't change?
And isn't it funny to see the way you moved on- drunk fat seniors. Doubt clouded me for a while, but I've come to realize that the moment happened. We lived in it- just as we should. And when the moment ended so did we, and I am perfectly at peace with that. Sometimes my mind wanders to the what-ifs. What if I hadn't given in to your sneaking advances? What if I wasn't such a sucker for mixed up arms and legs and lips and synchronized breaths? Would it have happened, or was the moment just right?
I saved his life. Drinks at 6. Shotgunning in under ten seconds. Party after party- heyo, sombrero. A night of firsts- beirut. shot of vodka. Then a house party- dark smokey thumping and thundering bodies bumping and grinding sweat and sex and weed and booze. You want me to be designated driver? That's okay, being in control for one night is okay, right? It's the good thing to do, right?
Happy birthday my dear boy, would you like some upchuck with that? As I rubbed your back and held your hand as you struggled on the grass, heaving up your birthday wishes under a starlit sky, I wondered if you would remember this moment as the sun rose. As I held on to your hips to keep you from rolling down that dewy hill I knew being sober was, for once, a good decision I had made. I squeezed you tight as we hurtled back to campus, praying we make it back alive. Squeeze if you're awake, okay? Do you know my name? Drink some water. Please just drink some water- you need to. You need to vomit- you need to take out that poison. Feeling your bare skin heave underneath my hands made me feel alive, made me feel like I was actually making a difference.
Round two: momma's turn to play the shitshow. The crack of the seal- cranberry and vodka goes down easy, one two three four. What's that now- we used a double shot to mix those drinks? Funny story. Five six seven people around the room. Feeling fuzzy. feeling light. Eight sip, nine sip- how many was that now? Lemme help you finish that drink, you look like you're having trouble. Shots you say? I'm down- down for double. A knock at the door- I told you not to invite anyone else. A radio, blurred fear, leaping up and struggling to stand. Heart racing as I know we are hurtling towards certain doom.Ashamed and cold, embarrassed beyond belief. sober? I think not. HOPE. Cold cots and cold kitchens, walking in a straight line- blow, blow blow. 0.142....0.073....0.07. You can go home now. Early morning perk ups, drunken phone calls sobbing in fear.
Housing probation. fuck my life. One time fuck up, full year suck up, screw up.
I thought I had gained friends for a lifetime. Yet, come to find my first kiss and first best friend at college decided to have a late night rendezvous with me in the room. Classy, real classy. Betrayal sucks. There is no eloquence to the sinking feeling in your heart and the waves of nausea that envelop you when you find out how truly blindfolded you've been to the naive trickery of pretend friends. There are social rules that most of us abide by, and when they're broken it hurts to know you've received the short end of the stick. They've since moved out, quad turned to double now turned to triple.
Pinkpinkfakefake turned to hippietapestrylove? I think I do agree.
Oh the things you'll see.
The betrayal stings but my heart still has hope for the future. I climb now, higher and higher. Physical and hard and real the falls aren't fake and the bruises still ache. The friends I've met seem more real this time- there are less illusions here when we put our lives in the hands of others. The legitimacy of these people I hold in my hands is so real- the life is so tangible.
His fear. His anquish. I hold him with my face tight against his chest, breathing deep. I climb the wall, he grabs my waist. Laughter and goonish giggling. I know you've seen too much with those dark empty eyes. As we lay on those blue ugly dirty mats, chalk dusting around us I understand the uniqueness of the moment as you blurt out what you've seen. Awkward silence. My hands in your hair.
there must be something there but there is also something that holds me back. The alcohol. The weed. The strong and sudden sexual advances. All I know is you are intense in so many ways I have yet to explore myself. You wear on your sleeves what I tuck deep inside and I fear it. You are the manifestation of all the shit I wish I could have said and done and still want to do. The emotions are raw and real and there is so much pent up energy it has nowhere to go. You release through chemicals.
I worry about you. You remind me of my Sam, emotions all askew.
You remind me of myself, and I think that's what I fear the most. You're everything that I want. Everything that I need. the harsh and biting reality of the addiction I cannot feed, pure and raw and real.
It's November and the air still has a hint of those crisp autumn days where the livin was easy. I can smell the snow in the mountain air.
It is almost four in the morning and my eyes have yet to sag, my heart still crashing in my chest. I am trying too hard to make the feelings inside sound beautiful and elegant and unique. I want you to understand the burning desire I have to experiment. To move beyond what I have tried- to throw reality to the wind and delve into the confines of my mind, my body. Release and relenquish what I've hid and held for so long.
I'm trying to embrace the reality of it all. One step, two steps. Do the two step to your heart beat and this is the moment. The unique and heaving and rolling and never ending always going speeding faster snap of reality.
I've in a bit of a mood, lately. So ridiculously unmotivated, yet at the same time my scholarship that allows me to even consider school rests in the balance- so stressed, yet totally unmotivated- what a great way to be.
I worry about a lot of people in my life- the one's I haven't heard from in quite some time especially. It's good to see a friendly face every once in a while, but I'm afraid some of you have finally given up and just pushed the envelope too far, and you really are gone. Please come back- just let me know you're okay. A little peep, please? Anything?
it was lovely. it was pleasant. it was everything and it wasn't anything at all. totally over-hyped. nothing to scream about. pretty white dress and old old beads, curly hair and a silly smile. it was loud and noisy and sweaty and oh god how i wish i had a moment with you alone.
no after prom. sigh.
went home, went to bed. for once in my life the 'rents discouraged going out. once- one time i'm invited somewhere special with people i enjoy being around and PSYCH. never mind that shit. it wasn't "you're going to get knocked up!" it wasn't "you'll get caught by the cops!" or "you'll get alcohol poisoning!" nay...it was "fuck no, you can't drive late at night."
of all the excuses in the world, i apparently am incapable of driving in the dark.
well that's a new one for sure.
And again i wish to myself that i had taken advantage of the way i was encouraged to dance with you. just once- one slow song? we both new it was a very awkward moment. and i bailed because i knew i couldn't handle it. what a pussy.
at least i got to be with you, even if you were on a date with another girl.
thank god i'm pretty sure she's lesbian, or i'd be up shit's creek without a paddle, the way i wanted you all night.
eh- i'm going to hell anyways, so what's it matter if i flirted with her date a little bit?
makes me a bitch, but that's not new.
I often wonder to myself if I'm the friend everyone pretends to love but in actuality I'm the friend that everyone laughs at. "Dude, fuckin' Anna's here. What the fuck."
It's funny how one half of me feels like I consider many of these people I converse with friends, while the other half feels so strongly ostracized. It's baffling, really. What did I ever do to deserve this? I'm not a Chatty Cathy. I'm not a backstabber.
I don't understand.
I feel myself in this swirl of confusing and melancholy emotions as I realize how far away some of my friends are going. Even the people I wasn't ever very close to. I won't see half of them ever again, and that frightens me. I'm not great with change, and this is a whole lot of change.
I'm afraid of going to a new place, with new people. No matter how many times I've wished for it, or for how hard or how long, leaving still won't be easy. Making new friends frightens me. What if it's like what it is here? All these semblances of relationships, yet no substance. Nothing real to hold onto, nothing real to miss. What am I going to miss, anyways? Those Friday nights I composed in my head? The situations I imagined?
I feel like I wasted my highschool career, never getting out. Never meeting people. Never stretching those social wings I'll need all too soon to work like a charm for me. Might be shit outta luck, baby
Just one kiss from you, please. Before I'm gone forever and we never get a chance to look at eachother in a moment for just us, a second with just our breaths and too rapid heart beats.
I don't want to leave this story unfinished. Can we at least close this chapter?
I am feeling better lately. Realizing that maybe life isn't about finding love in another human being but rather learning to love the life that we are given. No matter how hard it is to wake up in the morning, or how sad I may be that I don't have someone to hold my hand, I have to keep reminding myself to not complain. I have life, and that is more than I can ask for. I have the ability to find someone to hold hands with, if I really tried. I'm sure if I abandoned these self-set barriers that I'd be capable of finding anyone.
But Jesus, my timing sucks. Some chick named Vivi. Really? Vivi? That's such a slut name. She seems like an attention whore. He says she's "impulsive." Impulsive my ass.
I hate this almost required angst and dislike I have to this Vivi girl, but the way she just snatched him up right as things were warming back up between us really bothered me. I'm finally realizing that there isn't much to be afraid of, and that I need to grab life by the balls and just go for it- and she comes out of nowhere, and he's gone again.
I really wish just once, before I leave for good, that I get to kiss you. If I don't, I think a part of my life will seem empty. Silly, I know. But you are the only one I've ever really had even a semblance of a relationship with. Even if it was just childish flirting. It was mutual, and that's something- even if only for a little while.
Car crash. What a mess. At least things are a little less awkward now that the dust has settled between us. You're still a dick, and I'm sorry your body's in shambles, but that doesn't mean you can shout my personal issues to the world. Yelling across the hall to me that you'd fuck me to open up my vag really isn't a great way to put me into a good mood. In fact, it just pisses me off, and makes me want to rip your balls off. I told you about my MRI because I was under the false assumption you could be mature about it, but I guess you're not. You can suck it.
I'm pretty sure my mind is a whore, but my body is only twelve billion years on delay. So now that I've moved on, that I'm not really sure where my relationships lay, I'm finally getting comfortable around you. And you've got a girl.
You still smell amazing, and every time you grin your goofy grin it makes me want to touch you all over again. I'd really appreciate it if you lay off the 'innocent' brush-bys. You've got a girl, leave my slutty mind out of this, because pretty soon I'll be acting on some of these intentions I'm more than likely going to regret.
This blog is sort of silly. not at all how I intended. i'm in a silly mood i guess. hopped up on too much caffeine with nothing to decently occupy my mind, so I sound so young and naive again. Oh well. Life just doesn't seem as dramatic as it used to. No need to be eloquent any more. I wish i were eloquent again. I wish I could beam back in time to last year. It was a good year, with good people, and so, so much potential.
Why do you take advantage of me? Can't we just hold each other already? I hate that you use me to better yourself. I hate that I saw you in the hall with another girl. I want so badly to go back to last year. To the last time you held me in your arms. Even though it never really amounted to anything- not even a kiss.
I wonder why I spend so much time thinking about you, about anyone, really, when I know nothing will ever come of it.
I know in the end it's better off to be alone.
The numbness is creeping back, and I'm not sure I can fight this off that much longer. I can feel myself falling back into the old rhythm. The familiar uncomfortable feelings that used to plague my every day.
I'm getting an MRI soon, and I'm scared as fuck-who knows what will be wrong with me?
I really hope I don't need surgery, but I already know it's inevitable. It's a simple procedure, and I know it's almost harmless.
But that doesn't make the emotional realization that I'm fucked up feel any better.
I am no different from any other being in the world on this dreary Tuesday evening. Every thought, every worry, every concern that I might not live to my full potential in life lies dormant in the heads of people all around the universe. Young, old, rich and poor. I am not an individual. I am a member or a species. I am a member of a population. I do not evolve. Individuals do not evolve. Populations do. Species do.
My eyelids are heavy with a fog that I am striving hard to fight, misting in the front of my skull and tugging ever so persistently on my lids. Heavy heavy heavy they weigh, pulling my conscience down with them.
I do not know which way is up these days. Everything is sloppy and soggy just like my feet are on the slushy sidewalk down to the parking lot.
My drive home is often filled with thoughts I cannot even describe. How would my immediate world react if I just kept on driving, driving past the green house with inviting odors and loving arms. Past the field so often clouded in mysterious frost so early in the morning, it's golden gray stalks swaying ever so slightly in the occasional breeze. Driving and driving, past the houses and to the highways to which I can never decipher, never navigate.
How would this world react? Would these people miss me? Would your next accident be on purpose? Or would you simply forget. Become more drawn into yourself, more cynical than you have become already.
Damn that accident. Damn that car and damn that road and damn that tree for nearly taking your life. Damn you for changing. Damn you for losing yourself, physically, mentally. You are not the same you- you are crude and rude and cynical and mean. Your jokes don't make us laugh, they make us cringe. Little do you know, you lose friend after friend with your cruel words, meant to provoke our laughter.
I miss the old you.
But maybe I am wrong. Maybe this door was meant to be shut a long time ago. I've just shut it up for good, and I can't be opening it again to peek into the cracks to see what could have happened, what you might have looked like. Because that is gone forever.
Who knows. Maybe you were destined to be this cruel.
Sometimes I see the hurt in your too blue eyes when I look at you sideways. They have lost their luster. I see the boy I used to lust after- the one I so longed to be with. They catch me off guard and I am reminded of what I used to love.
Too often, I am reminded of what I used to love, what I could have had and never will.
It is the evolution of nothing. We evolve emotionally, we change individually. Too often we do not recognize these faults until they are too late. Moments are too long past. People have grown. People have changed.
I hope that come spring this change might be for the better. No longer the evolution of nothing, because nothing is changing here.
Remind yourselves that you do not evolve. We do.
So to make this evolution complete, to run full circle and become more than an evolution of nothing we must seize the moments. Seize those beings in your lives. Make it two together, instead of one alone. Embrace the day and don't wait for something better to come along, because sometimes something better was that something you left behind a long time ago.
It's funny, how I can look back at the things I write here and laugh at how childish and silly they sound. I'm not as naive as I sound, I swear. Sometimes I just get caught up in the angst of it all.
Laying here on a Monday night, semi-nauseated because I ate too much, I look back at this all and laugh. I laugh at how silly I sound. How somehow writing with poor grammar and lacking capitalization makes my passion come through clearer- yeah right. There is no way to express what goes on inside my head. It's like trying to explain a dream you had- the tactile sensations and emotions- you simply cannot find words with which to relay them. The attempt is useless and and only serves to let the judgment fall hard and cruel.
I want so badly to have all these things. To be skinny again. To be pretty again with soft smooth skin, to have the initiative to work hard and be successful. Too often I spend afternoons fretting away not doing much of anything, waiting until the last minute to start homework, to start studying, to continue with life. I get caught up in the numbness of it all. Sometimes feeling empty and unreal is more comforting than knowing what lies ahead of you isn't at all what you had planned in your head. Each new year I had a plan- I'll change this year. I'll work a little harder this year. Be more organized, kind, creative, driven.
Maybe it's better to take baby steps. I know it's admitting defeat, but that's all I've ever gotten so far. Yeah, it feels more than amazing when things start to go right. There's too many variables right now. Too many a's b's c's x's and y's and z's. Take it slow. Baby steps. Slow down on how much you consume each day- don't go cold turkey. Take it slow. The numbness is creeping up my spine again. Take it slow. Deep breaths. A reminder that no matter what I will wake up tomorrow. I will get in the shower and be late. Rush to the big yellow bus while that snow-covered truck sits lonely in the corner of the driveway, waiting for a later hour to hum to life. I will get to school, rushing to look decent and all of a sudden feel that blanket of anxiousness crawl over my shoulders, slimy and cold. Skin is too porus. Too dry too much of one thing and not another. Hair lies flat and unruly and unpleasant. Clothes are too tight too baggy itchy uncomfortable. My abdomen will feel too tight and no matter how many times I try to walk it off it won't go away. It will grumble and make noise like an angry elephant. Take it slow. Laugh and joke. Superficially, maybe sometimes genuinely- it doesn't really matter here. Take it slow. Take this slow. Take life slow. You've got good long time ahead of you- each day doesn't have to be perfect, and a large majority of them never will be.
Might never feel normal. Numbness may always lay dormant in the back of my neck, creeping down my spine and leaking into my limbs. Some days will be harder than others to get out of bed. Take it slow. It'll all come in time.
what a mess i am in. what a mess what a mess i am in.
it's good that it's out between us- maybe a little less awkward? maybe not.
all i know is that i've shut the door between you and i. you began knocking and i'm not going to answer no matter how hard you bang. it's done. the door is shut and bolted and locked. we both missed the starting gate, and the time has past. i'm sorry it had to be this way, but you're not you. you're not you you're not you you're just not the same.
and another behind those velvet curtains. what a mess what a mess what a mess. those funny looks and biting words. i don't understand what did i do to deserve this from you? it's just my job it's just my job it's just my job. some impressions stay. i don't want to remember you like this. don't leave me with this memory of yourself. go back to that night behind the curtain. to the time when you watched me kiss her on the lips pretending it was you. i want to feel that feeling again. this feels all wrong and messy and ugly and rotten.
too much about me and not enough about the rest of the world. think think think you promised to the world you'd make good to them now make it. no more time for these sleepless nights that poison your days.
i want so badly to be done here. to get out of this hopelessly small and segregated town.
i do not have support i need support where is my rock where is my hope? i can't quite express this weight that lies in my chest. overwhelming urge to sleep forever. yet i cannot sleep. hopeless sleepless forever nights. never ending never ever too too long.
i am swelling with a feeling i cannot describe but i know it all too well. little sounds make me want to tear my ears off and scoop my eyes out of my skull with a spoon. my spine is convulsing and those little ticks and twitches have become grander and more violent shakes in my abdomen. i am so done with this place. i am so done with this body.
miracle my life may be, where the fuck is god when i need him most? i guess you have a right to ignore me since i've ignored you this long. i have shaky faith so what's it to you if i need you.
i understand where you're coming from. i don't deserve this. life was enough. i get it.
i don't stand a chance.
august is too far away. give me august. give me sun and light and a chance to start over new. new town. new people. new loves, new situations to fuck up.
what's my patience worth anyways, these days?
"Don't say we got along
That's remarkably wrong
It doesn't suggest or imply
The thing about us you don't dare discuss
We never got along famously, we just tried
I tried to be good, I tried to be gracious and kind
But working with you has done nothing but prove a total waste of time
'Cause the real curse is your mind" jaymay. you'd rather run away.
As the days pass, I'm beginning to realize how little friends I really have. It's pathetic and petty, but when I see those pictures on facebook, the jealousy claws in my chest and i feel like I've been punched in the gut. I drove you home every fucking Tuesday, you fucking douche. Yeah, so I'm not eloquent. I wouldn't have had any fun anyways. but it's the thought that counts, right? i waste my gas and my time for you, just to be nice. what do i get in return? jack shit.
each day i leave my cell phone on, carry it around with me like a precious gem or something equally as materialistic. maybe if i hold on to it hard enough someone will call. someone will text. someone will want to be with me as badly as i want to be with them. bah- yeah right.
i run into one of you in the mall. "i was thinking about calling you!" yeah right. don't kid yourself, bitch. you're just saying that cause you're awkwardly standing by yourself in a sea of people- i'm just a face you think you might recognize.
not even my close friends call anymore. i wrote you a letter miranda. i wrote you two letters. did you respond? no. not once. do you respond to my ever so darling and cute younger sister? of course! i mean, who could turn down that giggle, right?
i know i'm unreasonably upset- it's not like i need to be invited places or do things with people. hell- do i even want to? but it's even the simple call. the kind gesture of invitation. i'm sick of being the one who calls. everyone comes over here. to my home. once, twice, maybe fifteen more times after that. you say we have a blast. i always offer to drive you home. always. what do i get in return? nothing. when was the last time i was invited over to your place? never. do you at least bother to offer gas money in return? hahahah what a JOKE. cause that's what i am, right? just a joke. that girl you can mooch off of because she's too nice. she'll talk to you when you don't have anyone else to talk to. she'll give you advice, a ride home- hell, she'll even cook you dinner once in a while. bring you food to practice when you forgot. what does she get?
a fucking slap in the face, that's what. the realization that while you're out with everyone else she's sitting at home getting fatter and fatter every day. knowing that with each passing minute you're kissing under stars, jovial and cheery and maybe a little drunk but that's okay.
maybe i'm just that one kid everybody hates. "fucking anna's here. shit, what do we do? we have to put up with her bullshit again?"
i know it's stupid. i know i have to be patient. positivity is key- stay positive, stay kind. don't stop offering your kindess. but jesus fucking christ do i always have to be the one person in the group who's left out?
petty and stupid and shallow. i know. good karma comes to those who wait.
i don't know what to think about these nights anymore. sometimes i sleep, sometimes i dont. it's becoming more and more a pattern of donts. words are foreign and ugly to me, barbs of black on a page. ugly letters snaking and harsh. my spelling is weak and my hands are weaker. i can feel my lungs caving in and my arms and knees begin to shake. little twitches turn into big spasm in my abdomen. my arms, my thighs. my toes and fingers and scalp and neck are all numb. i used to care. i used to wonder. i've given up wondering why and now wonder why me. i know it's not as bad as it could be. could be worse. could be someone else. this could be every night instead of every other.
in part it's self induced. wait until it's too late to start that essay or read that book. but once it's done i'm up up up. sleep isn't possible. maybe it's fate. karma, or something like it. thought too many nasty thoughts. didn't stay straight or go to church. kissed a girl and thought horrible things about you. wanted to hurt her and do terribly wonderful things to you. maybe i'm crazy. maybe i'm not.
all i know is it's 1.58 and the wind is howling outside my window, banging the 205 on my house. it gets quite sometimes. the tick tick tick tick tick of my keys is resoundingly loud. echoes in the room. i hear a ringing in my ears. high high high and it whispers nasty things to me. you're numb it whispers. you're stupid it whispers. you're average and uninspired and fat it whispers. how'd you let it get this far? your ass is so fat. even he said so. even your sam said you had a fat ass. fat ass.
no self control. eat eat eat eat eat eat eat. my fingers trot across this keyboard eat eat eat eat eat. canter? canter cancer cancer sounds these sounds don't make sense my head doesn't make sense. there is no sense it is nothing i am nothing this is suffocating i'm suffocating.
i can wait for tomorrow. tomorrow can wait. tomorrow can wait. and the next and next and next and day after that and the month and year after can all just wait. hold on, slow down. halt. give me a break.
my stomach is grumbling again. i can't be hungry again. it doesn't make sense i can't eat this much i don't move this much there's no need to eat you already ate lots and lots and lots. STOP stop stop.
i want him so badly. i need to feel his arms around me. i'm borderline insane i think. i think i'm seasonally depressed. i remember these feelings, sometime last year i presume. falling back into an academic rhythm. procrastination procrastination. i'm getting dizzy now. maybe i'm crazy crazy crazy. insane? circular logic here.not circular square or hexagonal or octagonal. not straight. curly wavy kinky crazy.
i don't make sense this doesn't make sense. train of thought never ever makes sense. let it flow you say. just let it out and write it down and don't look back don't erase don't edit just write. write until your hands fall off and your eyes fall out of your skull thump on your desk until you can breath in and feel that clarity. the word clarity means clear. clean fresh. i like those words. clarity clean clear fresh. clean clear fresh. they leave a nice taste in my mouth. in my head. i like what they evoke. nice and simple. i need clarity. it is foggy and hazy and smoggy and all too fuzzy inside my head. i need to vacuum or something. it's too dirty. do some laundry maybe? wash it and hang it out to dry. put some stuff on my sleeves so it stops mildewing inside my skull. talk to you maybe? i don't want to be a rebound girl. i want it real i want it now i want it good and honest and truthful. but i'm just too good of a friend aren't i? such a good listener. such a good advice giver. too bad your advice giver is running short. short circuting. going batshit insane insane insane. off her rocker. chapped lips from cold cold lies.
I can't fucking concentrate. my back and scalp and hands are numb. I've been working all day. There is an uncomfortable pressure in my abdomen I can't seem to sort out. It doesn't make sense, i've never felt anything like this before. my words are bull shit and fake and unintelligent. i sound stupid. i am stupid. i can't fucking do this. what should i write about? how do i write it? i can't do this. fuck this. fuck college. i'm not smart enough for you anyways. i'm sick of dad yelling at me to write this damn essay. i've tried four times. each time a bigger failure. they say it can't be too narrative. not narritve enough. find something you love to REFLECT ON. i'm not a fucking mirror. i'm a sponge. I absorb information. I can't spit it back out. I absorb situations. I do not reflect. i am sorry.
i am done.
i am calling it quits tonight. who needs college anyways?
There is no place for me, not even in my own body, in my own head. I am a stranger here. I am a stranger everywhere. My house, my room, my family does not feel like my own. My body doesn't feel like mine. It doesn't look like mine.
I am eating to halt the loneliness, and lonely because I eat. I used to embrace that hungry feeling. I liked to feel the grumble in my stomach, that ache and burn felt good. Now I just don't have the will power. I just don't have the will power. I just don't have it in me anymore.
I want to be skinny again. I want to have muscle. I want to be pretty and to care and to be productive. I want to feel good at the end of the day, knowing I got done what is due tomorrow and maybe something else that is due later in the week.
I want to recognize myself in the mirror again. I want to have a sleepless night every once in a while to remind myself I am alive.
I do not feel alive anymore.
For a while I was productive. I was organized. I was doing well. It is all going down hill now. I am falling fast and I can't stop. It's this pathetic downward spiral. I cannot hold a conversation with anyone. The words are not normal or positive or conducive to relationships. They are complaining words. Whiny words. Words that echo pity and remorse and don't belong in my mouth. They don't belong here.
Where did I go? Where did my mind go, anyways?
A little clue, a little hint- maybe a trail of crumbs would be nice. A letter from far away to just let me know where you've gone. It's okay you've gone, I just want to know where.
I find myself becoming nostalgic. The people I miss too much. Last year seems so far away. People change. They leave and move away. They begin new relationships with new people. I miss last year so much. I was comfortable with myself. I was skinny and happy and not always productive and organized but I was finally beginning to make real friends. To be with real people. And they left.
They're gone, and I'm still here.
I don't know who I am. I don't know. I am foreign and unrecognizable. Gaining a freshman fifteen or even twenty, and I'm not even into college yet.
I just want to know where I've gone, where I'm going.
I need to know.
If you find out where I've gone, give me a ring, cause I'd sure like to know.
For a few weeks, month nearly, I felt almost normal. I was surrounded by movement and was going going going. it was not always pleasant, but i saw faces i adore and was occupied. now i am only occupied. occupied with things that i do not wish to occupy my time. work work work on things that don't matter. fill my brain with information. (x-h)squared-(y-k)squared=1. mitosis ribosomes centrioles endoplasmic reticulum. freud and pavlov and draw draw draw as fast as your fingers can go. ideas- make them come out squeeze them out force them out more more MORE. choose a no b maybe e. was it protein or lipid? phospholipid or fatty acid?
i don't know i don't know i don't know.
my brain is so full and yet so empty at the same time. i am devoid of social information. i went from seeing you everyday to not at all- my face flushes again every time i see your smile.
i heard you had a date for homecoming. she's in your french class, and i heard you flirt with her. i am jealous. i am so jealous.
i am pathetic. i am so pathetic. this is so petty. pathetic. have no pity for me. i am a waste. this is just a waste of my time.
you are so lovely. i cannot give you up.
i am giving you up.
i am so confused. i am so conflicted. your blue eyes and bright smile are so engaging. you are mysterious. sometimes i think you are playing games with my heart, and other times i'm not sure if it's just your naivety. maybe you don't mean to play these games. maybe i'm just reading too deeply. maybe you don't actually care at all.
I arrive home, exhausted and sleepy. long nights full of nothing but procrastination. all my own fault. always my own fault for never finishing what i start.
and the first thing that comes to mind is "FOOD."
it is a disease. it is consuming my stomach. burning and aching and devouring my insides. no more distractions. nothing more to keep my mind away from the burning feeling. it is a good feeling, this burning. i feel comfortable with it. i lost it over the summer. i missed it. as soon as i reentered my hell, i was comforted with it.
yet, i had no appetite, and now i have on that consumes my being. i eat breakfast. i eat lunch. come time to arrive home, this hunger is no longer a hunger- it is a sucking vortex. i eat and eat and eat.
salt. i must have salt. i need salt. i need salt to stop this hunger. i eat all the salty foods i can get my hands on. i eat until my tongue feels shriveled. i eat until my stomach feels like it's going to burst, and i still am not satiated.
never satiated. never full.
always hungry. always desiring. never full. never satisfied.
i can feel my arteries congealing. i can feel my heart clogging as we speak. i can feel, only after two days of this binge-eating phase that i cannot hold back, the fat fold over the top of my jeans. how did this happen in two days? just two DAYS i gained 5 pounds?
maybe if i'm lucky it's just my eyes that are broken. or even my brain.
i'm pretty sure it's fizzled and broken beyond repair at this point. my speech is slurred and my mouth is never satiated. the previous drive i held for you, never being able to get you out of my skull has evaporated. poof. gone.
everything is gone from my head but this poisoning hunger. this devouring hunger.
this aching, horrible hunger.
make it stop. just make it all stop.
i cannot live this way. i cannot eat this way. the guilt weighs almost as heavy as the cheesy dinner in my stomach, settling itself atop my hips. down my thighs. congealing. turning into fat. fat fat fat.