For anyone who will listen

 A few days ago, I found my hand could not write in my journal the thoughts that were running through my head. I was messing around on my laptop and somehow ended up writing this little rant. It ended up being directed at people, so i thought id post it. here it is:

1-17-08

Why does it feel like inspiration comes swiftly to me one night, after dipping into memories of the past. And leaves me the next night, as i open my eyes to the overwhelming nothingness of my present? I dont have it that bad, really. But i feel as if what i have is not enough. I feel.. Lost. Utterly lost because Ive failed to do what i said i would for months. Ive lost the will to do so many of the things that i once loved so much. I will set my journal in front of me, with a pen, and i know what i want on that page. I can conjure many thoughts and images that i want to put down on that paper, as to conmemorate it. as to make it immortal. And yet i cannot find the will to do this… To express the thoughts in my head because they seem just too cruel, to horrid. Why are the thoughts in there so sad at this point in my life? Why are they so full of evil potential? I feel as if i am all alone and yet it hangs over my head that i choose to be this way in my head. I choose to shut people out and pretend like they wouldnt understand, or care, or make a difference in the situation. But i know that i am wrong. i KNOW that there are people that love me, that TRY to find out whats going on in my head. These people will give me their shoulder to cry on if i asked for it. If i reached out. And yet,this feeling that has overcome me prevents me from doing even that. Reaching out. Like… its not worth the effort.

Im an idiot to think that i am alone. But i am more so of an idiot for believing that i want to stay that way. I know that i want to express. i know that i WANT people, i want EVERYONE to know these thoughts in my head, and these images my imagination conjures. someone told me just the other day, “youre such a good writer. you have a good imagination” and then another “i love your writing. The way your words flow together is beautiful”. But is it? is my writing worth something? Am i?

strange how one hand holding a pen in front of paper cannot do what ten fingers on this key board are doing. Maybe its the times. Writing in a journal, an actual paper journal, is old fashioned. And that was one of the reasons i loved it so. Everyone has blogs. But rarely do i hear of people keeping journals. In a journal, memories are immortalized and made personal. On the internet, these memories can be so easily lost. And i refuse to let my words be lost. I refuse to let my memories wither away because if i have not memories, then i have nothing. if i leave not memories behind than i AM nothing.

Im not here to take up space, consume more oxygen, aid in the destruction of our already feeble planet. IM here to CHANGE something. I know i am. I have always known that if i leave this world worse or the same as it is now, that my existence would be meaningless. I live for myself. Yes. but also for the people that i love. I live for the people that i love, yes. but also for those people that i dont even know. for other teenagers out there that are feeling like i am now. For everyone out there that feels worthless, and lost, and scared. For anyone out there who feels that they have failed. This is to you. For all the hopeless romantics out there, the poets, the artists, the writers, all of you who feel that your art doesnt matter. Im here to tell you that it does. For all of you who feel you will never get anywhere. If you try, you will.

These are all people that i feel for. people that FIGHT. people that have their hearts broken and still try to find love. For all of those that have been told “you cant do this” and went ahead and tried anyways. For all the rebels, the fighters, the round pegs in the square holes. this is for you.

But.. it is also for the pessimists. Those who give up. those who are scared and let that fear consume them. For those heartbroken who have sworn off love an evil hurtful thing. For all you idiots who never stop in your busy lives and just take everything in. For all those who cant think of the world, of anyone other than yourselves. This is for you too. You, whose lives are hard, so you choose to sit. to wait for something good to happen. waiting for your break. Its not going to come to you. You have to go to IT.

This is for eveyone. This is for anyone who chooses to sit still for a bit and read my words. read this coming from my mind. I am not perfect and these words may mean nothing to one person while an epiphany to the next. this is for you. I am not sane, i know and accept that, but i posses something that not one can deny. I posses knowledge, and i posses wisdom. I posses a fighting heart. A heart, that at times like these, stops and turns to words when my feelings and actions cannot get me through a day. For those who have a heart made for fighting, this is for you. This is an attempt to change even the life of one person. If one person opens their eyes to something, anything, due to my words, then my purpose is complete.

This is for everyone, anyone, who will stop and LISTEN.

brain click

She doesnt even know it, but tonight, she has saved me. A drawing. Some random icons. Memories rushing into me so quickly that i forgot to breathe for a second. I felt tears come to my eyes and yet even now they refuse to release themselves from the prison of my eyes. Memories, sweet and bitter memories that have built me over these years. Memories. Memories of people that LOVED me. Memories of DRAMA. I was thrown back suddenly into the memories of all the BULLSHIT. All the pain and the lies. But also all the bonds and the love. The friendships with these wonderful people that I have been so gifted to meet. People like… her.

Now it seems shes far away, but i hope that she still knows that i love her. That she made a difference in my life. That if even for that time we spent together that seemed so short, she was one of the few people in my life that STOOD OUT. One of those people that you just never forget, cuz theyre too damn special.

Not even an hour ago I felt at loss for words. Ive been falling back into this well of hopelessness lately, due to some things that are going on in my life. less than and hour ago, I felt as if this writing that is coming from me now  come. weird to think of this, but i felt.. as if i was betraying myself. This might not make any sense to many many people, but it doesn’t have to. It makes sense to ME.

I think I’m done here, for the time being. I have a novel to get back to, and many thoughts brewing that need tending to.

block rant

Days come when I cannot find the will in me to write down even the events of my day, the things I saw, or heard, or felt. Its hurting me, because writing is my catharsis. I havent been able to write a poem in weeks. My novel seems to have encountered a dead end. And rants like these feel empty. I have been feeling so much that I think my mind is overwhelmed to write. It takes me a while to get started writing because I cant decide what Im feeling when I sit down to write. Like now.. I didnt expect to write this much. And now that I thought about it, this rant comes to an end for I cannot continue.

Straying and Crossing

Things unsaid and things unspoken,

Make the heart seem pale and fragile.

Wreckage consuming the waiting truth,

Leaving, taking away beauty of something so pure.

Sometimes the creature needs to be looked at,

Needs to feel as something not fake,

As something worth taking a risk for.

I smile.

I smile and see my reflection full of tears

With no understanding.

Trudging along in the mud of dirt imbrued,

we walk this path in this place we call home.

Stone are falling on the past.

Stones are falling on the present.

The road ahead looks unsteady.

We choose to stray the road,

Choose to walk away from what was set before us.

Creatures of a different kind,

A different breed,

We crave the danger of a road with words left unspoken.

Now it’s the time to decide if such risks are good enough to feed our cravings.

For there’s a river ahead…

Here’s the chance for evil demons to break out,

Here’s the chance to murder unwilling reflections.

We’ll build the bridge ourselves,

Or cross the river with bare feet.

Letting fate take us,

Break us,

Rape us.

Mold around us to form waves of a different kind.

Your grasping hand will calm my mind.

Creatures of a different sort,

We crave the danger of an invisible port.

Are such risks enough to feed our cravings?

Is it worth the time to allow this life to take us,

Break us,

Rape us,

Make us?

Love that feels so far away

It’s strange, that such love could feel so far away.

It hurts, to feel as a child gone astray.

So big this world, so small I feel,

Missing the man that once dried my tears.

Now his back is turned, as I sit and write,

His thoughts will be with another family tonight.

And elegant words shall go unspoken,

For it’s plain to see my heart is broken.

I ache to be that child again,

Who watched him sing along with the rain,

Watched his hands move, calloused and scarred,

And mold so sweetly to that old guitar.

I once watched light in his eyes as he wrote his songs,

But that sparkle I so loved, it has been long gone.

Only when were alone does his face come alive,

And I feel that I’m loved by that shine in his eyes.

Its strange, that such love could feel so far away.

When all I want is to hear this man say,

“you’ll always be my girl, my joy, my pride,

And I‘m going to love you even after I die”

I feel so small, watching him from afar,

I feel so lonely, wanting to be in his arms,

I need his comfort, his blessing, his protection,

Will he ever be happy with my chosen direction?

Words cannot describe and yet I pour,

For the love of another could never fill this hole,

This empty space I feel when I’m made to believe,

That my fathers love has now deserted me.

Thoughts on her..

Its amazing how so many years have gone by, and so many things have changed, yet she still feels the same. Fiercer now, with the rage of a crazed lion, yet as quick to run and undeniable helpless as the antelope in the mouth of that lion. Why does she fear the world so? Does she not trust the world, or not trust herself? It takes a lot of courage, or a lot of stupidity, to trust this world. But that’s a choice we make as human beings. It’s a choice she has never made. I fear she never will.

For too long, she’s been trapped, listening to the world from the inside. Because of this, she receives the bad news. The world seems so big and scary compared to this shitty little town she has dwelled in for the past 19 years. So she must not go out, she thinks. She must not try anything new, she thinks. If I don’t know someone, that makes them dangerous. If someone doesn’t believe in god, that makes them bad. If someone is different than me, they’re not someone I want to associate with. I must stay in the box, in my home, living my routine. Day after fucking day, the circle of emptiness continues.

She sees my ideas, and they frighten her because she does not understand them. “What is art good for? Who cares what you feel inside? Screw your artwork, your poetry, your stories. Go to school, get a job, make money so you can keep going to school to be something REAL in life.”

I’d love to know what “real” is. My words feel real. My art feels real. Self-expression is what I live for. It feels real, and it IS real. Its what I FEEL, WANT, NEED. I live for life itself and I want to experience life. I want to see the world and meet new people and share my words and my art and my feelings. I don’t want to hide. I want to throw myself out there, right in the middle of all that danger and drama and risk because that is what makes me feel ALIVE.

For some reason, she tries to make me feel that because I am the way I am, I am wrong. That I should change and “better” myself. That I should be more cautious, that I should not trust people, that I shouldn’t do these things because they might be dangerous. That I should do things now to ensure my FUTURE. To hell with my future.. What about NOW? What about these seconds of my life trickling away? Am I not alive? Am I not in the “real world” yet? I am. And I see this. I only wish she could.

Right now, I sit here writing, feeling good about myself because I’m taking these feelings out of me. Because though I resent her, and I dislike her, I fear her even, I do not wish to hate her. I love her, and I always will. But I cannot love her ideas. I cannot love her cowardice. I cannot love the “love” she imposes on me by trying to change me into something “better”. I am not perfect. I am far from it. But I’m happy with who I am, and where I am. Though her and the rest of the world wants me to “find” myself, I will not. I will CREATE myself. And I will do it MY way, making every second count.

Wow. Ive been so crowded with work and school, havent mantained any of my blogs:-( how sad. Ive been working on my book. Started out as a short story for Creative writing. Recently i have finished a rough draft for part II though and I’ve many more ideas to make this a longer work. The plot is bit undefined and im not sure exactly where i want to go with this story, but i know what i want to do.  It scared many people in the class, while it saddened others. There were a couple who were just very confused. You have to really look into the story to understand what is going on. If you know me personally, it is obvious that many characteristics of the main character are the same as mine. Also, some of the other characters have things about them that are aspects of the people around me. I might post part one and two on here to get an opinion… maybe. 

Work has been insane.. everyone is trying to get into the December GED test because come January, PNM wont be paying for it anymore. Due to how many students we have, we might put in a second testing date this month. Come next week though, im done with that job. If i want to continue working there, i have to reapply, and i have been assured that they would rehire me. They like me working there. They tried getting a few young Peer advisors in there to kind of be able to interact with the young students, but out of the 4 that they hired, only Im left. 2 got fired, and 1 quit. I stayed. I do a good job there. Not because i like the job but because when i do something, it HAS to be done right.  And because of that, the supervisor loves me. Alas, come January, I shall be going on to UNM main campus. Living over there and working here seems stupid. The less time i spend in this town, the better. It seems to be right on top of me, January. Im thinking back to August, when i thought January.. my 18th birthday… my freedom.. was to far away. And now? its right around the corner. Im looking forward to my last christmas here at home.

People are resenting me for this, but i dont care. Im not falling off the face of the earth and i will not forget my family and friends. I was thinking about my cousing jackie the other day, when she was telling me how much she was going to miss me. Weve got really close, and she kinda looks up to me in a way. shes 3 years younger that me.. just turned 15. *sigh* shes one of my family that loves me and respects me for me and i love her dearly for that.  Theres my manda too.. it will be easier to see her more often. Shes 22. My mom and dad will live without me. I mean, ill still come down and visit. But im a bit worried about my little bro resenting me.. I hope he doesnt. I hope he can understand that i have to leave for me, if there be any chance of saving my sanity..

hahaha, sanity… what is that? being sane.. stable? I dont think Ive ever known that. Ive always been one to have a constant catastrophe in my head…

 Ok enough ranting for now. I shall update again sometime soon. Now i have a class to attend. bye byes^_^

Rambling thoughts again

Every winter, I become a different person. I mean, its still me in this body, but my mind seems to be at its most catastrophic in the cold weather. . thoughts race in every which way, and I feel like Im running around after them a lot of the time. I rarely catch them, but when I do, stability becomes a distant dream as I fall into the well of whatever emotion I have managed to catch.  

 I feel.. insane in many a ways. I feel unfit for certain situations, uncalm in the midst of disaster, and angry in the face of a threat. Many things and many people have turned against me after a long time, and some have a newfound anger towards me.  why so? jealousy. Jealousy of me being where I am. Jealousy due school, because I got ahead. Jealousy due work, because I happen to know what the hell I am doing.  Jealousy due to my love life, whether it is because someone wants me, or the boy that I am with. Jealousy.. its fucking ridiculous.  And I never thought I could make so many people jealous, so many people dwell in their fond thoughts of causing me harm. It does make me angry, there is not doubt in that. But it also makes me laugh. Because no matter what, these people can’t hurt me. I’ve felt jealousy towards me before. Ive been hated, resented, stalked, hurt, humiliated. Ive felt the pain of seeing my family fall apart. Ive loved.. and not been loved back.  But I have rejected also, when it was I that was loved and I that did not love back. I have resented. I cant say that I have stalked, but I have hurt and humiliated people. Its a viscious circle.. a part of life that I hate to admit I am a part of. Thats what we humans do. Hurt each other. Lie and steal and cheat and destroy. We seem to have this unsatiable need to destroy the things around us, and when we can no longer do that.. destroy ourselves. Little by little. Breath by breath. Word by word. Every step we take, its as if we are “another breed, another kind. A species that loves to fantasize about its own demise.” Words from Sussana Kaysen herself.. Although she was suicidal.. In alot of peoples minds, suicide seems ridiculous. The mere thought of killing our bodies is preposterous. But what good is our body, if unconsciously, we are killing our very souls? I’ll leave that question to your minds. Ive ranted enough this evening. I will come back to this.

Days of the phoenix

Days of the phoenix

I remember when
I was told a story of
Crushed velvet candle wax
And dried-up flowers
The figure on the bed
All dressed up in roses calling
Beckoning to sleep
Offering a dream

The words were as mystical as purring animals
The circle of rage, the ghosts on the stage appeared
Time was so tangible, I’ll never let it go
Ghost-stories handed down reached secret tunnels below
No one could see me

OH – I fell into yesterday
OH – our dreams seemed not far away
I want to, I want to, I want to stay
OH – I fell into fantasy

The words were as mystical as purring animals
The circle of rage, the ghosts on the stage appeared
Time was so tangible, I’ll never let it go
Ghost-stories handed down reached secret tunnel below
No one could see me

OH – I fell into yesterday
OH – our dreams seemed not far away
I want to, I want to, I want to stay
OH – I fell into fantasy

The girl on the wall was always waiting for me
And she was always smiling
The teenage death boys
The teenage death girls
And everyone was dancing
Nothing could touch us then
No one could change us then
And everyone was dancing
Nothing could hurt us then
No one could see us then
And everyone was dancing
Everyone was dancing
No one could see me

OH – I fell into yesterday
OH – our dreams seemed not far away
I want to, I want to, I want to stay
OH – I fell into fantasy
Our dreams seemed not far away
Our dreams seemed not far away
Our dreams seemed not far away
I fell into fantasy

Holes in the road

          Sometimes we stumble in our lives, when the bumps in the road become holes. When we go on that road, the fear of falling in overcomes us, causing us to fall in at times. In our holes, our emotional wells that our lives have carved into that road, we lose sight of ourselves. nights once so beautiful and joyous bring a sense of melancholy to the heart, making it heavy. Our smiles that once caused such an impact on the ones around us, become facile, allowing our faces to be lost in the crowd. How can we stop ourselves from falling into said holes? How to make real smiles appear on the faces we love, when we smile at them? How to make someones heart race, or set their mind at peace? how to lift them up when they stumble, and how to reach out when it is US that are stumbling?

          Sometimes, we must let said melancholy wrap its arms around us, so that when happiness is right in front of us, we can distinguish it from the bad. Holding songs so close to us while sneaking glances at the future, afraid of the holes in the road.. its ok. It ok if you need to hold on to someone. Its ok if you dont. What matters is knowing that no matter what you will in time climb out of those holes, with or without help. Its a lot harder when you are alone.. but truly, we are never really alone. Our hearts are cherished more than we would think. And though its easy for us to fall in to the holes, and climbing out is easier said than done… when we do climb out, we will be all the stronger.