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| Saturday, March 25th, 2006 | | 2:16 am |
there has been a recent lack of...something. motivation, it seems. the words are all in my head, the thoughts are all in chorus and nearly screaming out at me, but i lack the resolve, the want, the need to project what i have stored in my cranium/synapses/energy/what have you. i was once told often (such a nice oxymoronic statement) that i cling on to the past. that i carry it with me. and this is said more in the terms that i carry grudges, that i hold on to the bad things that have happened. yet i have come to realize that the opposite is true; i actually hold on to the best of times. and the reasoning behind that? it's because in doing so, i want to be happy/content/excited/etc. in the way that i was in those memories i immerse myself in. it helps keep my inner morale high, rather than succumbing to a pity-party in which i sometimes have the thoughts that no one would wish upon their worst enemy (or rather, i wouldn't wish upon my worst enemy. . .not that i have one to begin with. . .). i sometimes hold on to the memories so tightly that i want the future to be just like the past, yet that is a fallacy that i'm learning to deal with. you can't go back, nothing will ever be the exact same. yet in every story, the tragic hero yields one fault; this is mine. (not exactly saying i am a tragic hero, but you get the idea.) i now see all automobiles as a priviledge, not a right. not a toy. i hope that this will be more of a strength than a hinderance. relationships are such beautiful things. not necessarily just "when a man loves a woman", which is how everyone seems to define the word nowadays. but the relationships between friends, family, and the rest. one definition of the word "relationship" is "A particular type of connection existing between people related to or having dealings with each other". which would suggest that each person we meet, we have to some degree a relationship with. a connection. which brings the thought of fate and destiny up to the realm of concious thought. but i'll push it back, because i could ramble on for hours on such a subject. to end this, i think that i am really beginning to grasp the concept that we should be truly thankful for those we have around us. either that, or certain circumstances are just fucking my mind. . . .or i'm more intoxicated/tired/melancholy than i believed myself to be. goodnight. Current Mood: melancholyCurrent Music: "i did the best my frail mind could to make things new. . ." | | Thursday, October 20th, 2005 | | 11:27 pm |
There was a conversation. In which I, for once, was the pessimist. I've been the optomist for so damn long, but what has come of it? NOTHING. Simply, nothing. I came inside, was ready to fall into a deep sleep. But I started thinking. Lashing out in anger is not me, yet I had a vision of myself walking up to an old friend and punching him so hard in the face that he had no choice but to fall. Such violence is something that not even I could comprehend, and it surprised and shocked me so much that I began to fall apart, which is something I'd been trying my hardest not to do. Thankfully, I was in the comfort of my own confinement, and so no one else had to see such a wretched mess. I fell apart because, as much as I'd like to beat the living shit out of my friend, I couldn't bring myself to do it. It's not his fault. And as much as I'd like to strangle another unnameable person, I couldn't bring myself to do it once again. It's not her fault for feeling the way that she does. But is it my fault for feeling the way I do? I give fully of myself to someone, I would give her the fucking world on a silver platter, and then I am discarded. Replaced. Several times. She still comes to me at times for support, and what do I do? I calm her. Talk to her. And I try to keep my feelings hidden, separated from the fact that she is a friend in need. But no. They resurface. Like old wounds refusing to heal. I've always fought a constant battle in reassuring myself that I am here for a reason, and that even though everything is an uphill charge, there is surely a reward at the end. Well, it's difficult to want to keep fighting when you feel as though there will be no reward. As though everything good has come and gone. Like you've won the battle, but lost the war. . . | | Thursday, August 25th, 2005 | | 1:33 am |
"I know I've been mistaken But just give me a break and see the changes that I've made I've got some imperfections But how can you collect them all and throw them in my face But you always find a way to keep me right here waiting You always find the words to say to keep me right here waiting And if you chose to walk away I'd still be right here waiting Searching for the things to say to keep you right here waiting I hope you're not intending To be so condescending it's as much as i can take and you're so independent you just refuse to bend so I keep bending till I break But you always find a way to keep me right here waiting You always find the words to say to keep me right here waiting And if you chose to walk away I'd still be right here waiting Searching for the things to say to keep you right here waiting I've made a commitment I'm willing to bleed for you I needed fulfillment I found what I need in you Why can't you just forgive me I don't want to relive all the mistakes I've made along the way But I always find a way to keep you right here waiting I always find the words to say to keep you right here waiting But you always find a way To keep me right here waiting You always find the words to say to keep me right here waiting And if I chose to walk away would you be right here waiting Searching for the things to say to keep me right here waiting" - Staind, "Right Here" - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - "the guy who put his hands on you, has got nothing to do with me. And the bruises that you feel will heal and i hope you come around, cause we're missing you. you used to speak so easy, now you're afaid to talk to me. Its like walking with the wounded. Carrying that weight way too far, the concrete pulled you down so hard out there with the wounded, We're missing you. Well I never claimed to understand what happens after dark, but my fingers catch the sparks at the thought of touching you, When you're wounded lemme break it down til i force the issue, we miss your face and you know i wish you would come back down to the Delva Bar you tell em' ,"Thats just my battle scar." I wanna kiss you, and knock em down like we used to you're a marigold till you're walking down shaking that ass again, then you walk on, baby, walk on, you walk on. on and on you're an angel in the pit with her hands in the air and we're missing you. Now its fall and your shoulders get tighter nervous flicks on your lighter...boots your pissed off poets your women's groups and the friends with you we should've known this fool well i guess we missed the mark, still my fingers catch the sparks at the thought of them touching you when your wounded Lemme break it down till i force the issue you never come around and you know we miss you well nobody took your pride away i said," thats something people say." Back down the bully to the back of the bus, cause its time for them to be scared of us till you're yelling how we're living cause you got the ball and then you rock on, baby, rock on, you rock on. on and on. you're a summertime hottie with her socks in the air, you're screaming i dont care baby i dont care no you say you dont know, you say here we go now, all i know is we're missing you you say you dont know, you say here we go now, all i know is we're missing you show up, show up wounded show up, show up wounded" - Third Eye Blind, "Wounded" | | Friday, July 15th, 2005 | | 11:15 pm |
Maybe I just can't get over myself Maybe I haven't been humbled in so long Maybe I just took you for granted Maybe I have just always been so wrong But then sometimes, just sometimes, I want to be right. Sometimes, just sometimes, I have to start a fight But then I feel like I'm only punching myself in the face. I feel like I'm the only one in the race, And you're just standing by, Watching me with that inquisitive eye that asks, "What the hell does he think he's doing?" Sometimes, just sometimes, I don't know either. Maybe I just don't know what to say Maybe I just don't know what to do Maybe I just wish that I could pull myself right back to you - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - I feel like such an asshole. | | Tuesday, July 5th, 2005 | | 12:36 pm |
My own intoxicated words still ring in my head: "It's because I'm not Christian." | | Monday, July 4th, 2005 | | 11:55 pm |
I'd say how I feel Put I don't want your pity I'd say what I think But I don't need you inside my head I'd say what I want to But then it'd just lead to hate I'd say what needs to be said But it'd just cause more stress. Why do I even try to care anymore She doesn't, she just doesn't Or maybe she still cares Maybe she shouldn't, maybe we shouldn't It's too hard to let go When I've been holding so tight for so long It's too difficult to show What I feel, 'cause it seems so wrong I've tried to show her why she should stay When I know she will just sit by the door I've tried to bring her back up with me When she just lies there on the floor * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * I hate my heart. I don't want it anymore. Current Mood: I don't know.Current Music: "It's even harder to speak when everything you say..." | | Tuesday, June 28th, 2005 | | 11:37 am |
Reminiscing is a bad thing sometimes. Especially remembering all of the good times, when things seemed so much like a movie that you would look around for the camera, even though it was never there. Times spent listening to songs about a blue dress, and how beautiful I thought she looked, even though she'd deny it. She was beautiful to me, though. She is and always will be, no matter what anyone else tells me. I remember a new year spent in each others' company, all dressed up with no where to go, yet we made the best of it. Holding each other by candlelight and being totally content like that. No words had to pass between the two of us, as all just seemed right with the world as long as we were together. "All I ever wanted, all I ever needed is here in my arms. Words are very unneccesary, they can only do harm." Maybe that's where we went wrong. Maybe we talked a little too much, and were never just content with just the company. Or maybe it's just that we started taking everything for granted. "This will still be happening years from now." Well, it isn't now. Reminiscing is a beautiful thing, yet horrible at the same time. Humankind's own torture device. Makes one remember what they had, yet at the same time they feel depressed for not having it anymore. ...I'll shut up now. Current Mood: depressedCurrent Music: "The sweetest perfection..." | | 2:16 am |
My heart seriously is in need of a day off. But I can't stop thinking about it all... ...damn the man. (And by the man, I'm talking about myself this time. Heh.) Current Music: "But did you know I loved you more than I could ever show.." | | Monday, June 27th, 2005 | | 11:46 am |
I don't feel so well. Especially considering the fact that you probably think I'm an asshole now. And in all honesty, I have been acting that way, and I apologize. I'm just still hurting, and still longing, and everything that goes along with that, and I don't know how to push away. I don't know how to stop loving. I'm so damn confused. . .please forgive me. Current Mood: discontentCurrent Music: "Whatever words I say., I will always love you..." | | Friday, June 24th, 2005 | | 11:42 am |
Does it really make a difference? That's not the way you used to look at me. Does it really make a difference? That's not the way things used to be. If I could take it all back to the time You started to see things differently, What's yours is yours, mine is mine And I believe in that religiously. I'm sorry that I couldn't change my ways I'm sorry that I couldn't change my views But I'm not sacrificing myself for you. Does it really make a difference? That's not the way you used to talk to me. Does it really make a difference? This isn't the way things used to be. If I could take it all back to the day We started to argue fervently, What's done is done, said is said, And there's nothing you can do to change me. I can only change for myself and no one else. Current Mood: discontentCurrent Music: "Think I'll rename my heart The Calendar..." | | Wednesday, June 22nd, 2005 | | 4:36 pm |
"Every finger in the room is pointing at me I wanna spit in their faces then I get afraid of what that could bring I got a bowling ball in my somach, I got a desert in my mouth Figures that my courage would choose to sell out now I’ve been looking for a savior in these dirty streets Looking for a savior beneath these dirty sheets I’ve been raising up my hands- drive another nail in Just what God needs, one more victim Why do we crucify ourselves Everyday I crucify myself Nothing I do is good enough for you Crucify myself Everyday I crucify myself And my heart is sick of being in chains Got a kick for a dog, beggin’ for love Gotta have my suffering so that I can have my cross I know a cat named easter, he says will you ever learn You’re just an empty cage girl if you kill the bird I’ve been looking for a savior in these dirty streets Looking for a savior beneath these dirty sheets I’ve been raising up my hands- drive another nail in Got enough guilt to start my own religion Why do we crucify ourselves Everyday I crucify myself Nothing I do is good enough for you Crucify myself Everyday I crucify myself And my heart is sick of being in chains Please be Save me I cry Looking for a savior in these dirty streets Looking for a savior beneath these dirty sheets I’ve been raising up my hands- drive another nail in Where are those angels when you need them Why do we crucify ourselves Everyday I crucify myself Nothing I do is good enough for you Crucify myself Everyday I crucify myself And my heart is sick of being in chains." - Tori Amos, "Crucify" | | Tuesday, June 21st, 2005 | | 3:30 am |
I think I'm learning that in order to be completely free and happy, one must not be afraid to lose anything or everything. That may be a problem with the human race. We're all pack-rats; we can't give away something once we have it, and we're content with it, or think it may serve of some use later on in life. And I totally lost all other trains of thought. One big, collective wreck. More later, I suppose. | | Friday, June 17th, 2005 | | 1:10 am |
I'm sorry I missed your call tonight. I was in the car, the radio was loud, and I had just pulled the phone out of my pocket when it stopped ringing. And I didn't want to call back right then, 'cause I know I couldn't navigate while on the phone. Sorry...I'll try and call you tomorrow. :-/ | | Tuesday, June 14th, 2005 | | 7:32 am |
"Do you pray In the night Can you appreciate the wind And I won't care I won't fight I need you close to sing It's the same beginning Gone away It's the same old, same old song Gone away It's my whole life In words And I can't breathe When you cry But I'll be there to hold you tight And I would kill I would fight To keep you close I keep singing the same way I won't live If you died If I can feel you in the wind And this is me It's my life I'll need you close to sing It's the same beginning Gone away It's the same old, same old song Gone away It's my whole life In words Gone away It's the same old, same old song Gone away It's my whole life And I can't say And I don't know How far I'll go And I can't say And I don't know How far I'll go Gone away It's the same old, same old song Gone away It's my whole life In words Gone away It's the same old, same old song Gone away It's my whole life..." Current Mood: melancholy | | Wednesday, June 8th, 2005 | | 11:53 am |
Because it's two in the morning. And my eyes are spread wide open.
I know my soul's been withered and wisped away. But my grey matter brings me home. I know your soul's been withered and wisped away. ...but your grey matter brings you home. Current Mood: contemplativeCurrent Music: "I'll lay right down and daydream of you; yes I will." | | Saturday, June 4th, 2005 | | 10:58 pm |
There are so many times I think about just putting down the strings and walking away. Now is one of those times. I made a few errors in judgement, and look how far I've come. A few songs that are too repetetive for anyone to really like. A skill that not many really know about. And a display of humor that may make me look like more of an ass than someone who is talented. And then I question whether I really am or not. I've been told I am, but sometimes it's so hard to believe. If I'm so damned talented, why am I still here, at the starting point? Shouldn't I be somewhere by now?I drag myself up and down. In and out of hoops. I end up too damn lazy for my own good at times. Yet I still hold true in my heart the fact that this is what I'm made for. What I'm here for. To strike inspiration into people. To let flow many a sonic cascade of rhythms and pulses. And that I can't give up, no matter how many times I must hear negative feedback and such. ...still makes me want to crawl into a hole, though. Which I just might. Let myself fade out from everyone musically, then re-emerge as a greater entity within months or so. A sabbatical of sorts. A pilgrimage into musical theory. "I stand; not crawling. Not falling down. I bleed for me and no one else." Maybe I will become sanctified in my new shell. Current Mood: grim and determined | | Sunday, April 24th, 2005 | | 10:49 pm |
I've been sleeping with the obvious Just asleep, with it in my mind Your eyes burned into my sight, Your eyes of a tragedy. You don't see me at all. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * I want to strike through the walls that have held us apart, But I want them to stay constructed at the same time. I want to grab a pen and paper, and make a visage of you, So I can keep your image safe outside my mind. ...I don't know what I want. And my indecisiveness is what gets me every time. | | Sunday, March 27th, 2005 | | 4:12 pm |
"touched, you say that i am too so much, of what you say is true i'll never find someone quite like you again i'll never find someone quite like you, like you the razors and the dying roses plead i don't leave you alone the demi-gods and hungry ghosts oh god, god knows i'm not at home i'll never find someone quite like you again i'll never find someone quite like you again i, i looked into your eyes and saw a world that does not exist i looked into your eyes and saw a world i wish i was in i'll never find someone quite as touched as you i'll never love someone quite the way that I love you." Current Mood: melancholyCurrent Music: "Touched" by VAST | | Thursday, November 25th, 2004 | | 5:15 pm |
For the longest of times, I've had my mind constantly clouded by indecision. Who I was, where I was going, what I was going to do with my life. Of course, I'm still a bit indecisive on the latter, but I think that that one is a little bit clearer. And as to why...well, read on. For a majority of my teenage years, I've been very lost. Very indecisive. Very...immoral. Even if not in my actions, in my thoughts. And of course, no one's mind will ever be totally clean. However, what exactly is a clean, pure mind? One that thinks only of white snow, soft feathers, and sunny, calm afternoons? No no no. I believe that a clean, pure mind is one that thinks only positively, and one that purely loves its surroundings (including everyone around it). I believe that this purity is only truly found at two stages in life: infancy, and then right before death. However, the latter case is rare, as only a select few people seem to die happily. Where am I going with this? I'm not exactly sure myself. So, please, bear with me. Whenever I spoke of being lost, one might ask, "What have you been lost in? Or from?" Well, for one, I'd lost all faith that there was a God or Higher Deity for quite a while. Then it began to come back, as difficult as it is at times to believe such things. I know that He/She/It exists; I know that He/She/It has plans for the human race; for the world. However, He/She/It wants us to deal with ourselves before we can deal with anything else. And that means tolerance. Of everyone. ...which is something I've come to slightly lack...but then regain...slowly. This is the main thing that I'm going to be working on. Tolerating everyone's point of view, religion, political views, etc. And through doing so, I hope to teach others tolerance. That's one thing that many people do not have nowadays; they're so unwilling to open their minds, or to be friendly with their neighbors and accept that others do not share the exact same views on life. ...and, now my mind is drawing a blank. To close, I would like to state that I have signed to be ordained as a minister of Universal Ministries. They seem to have their heads all together, which is a great thing. If anyone would like to see what I'm talking about: http://www.universalministries.com/Oddly enough, whenever I first heard about this process, I thought of it as a joke. Thinking that maybe I should do that just for the funny title. However...I actually intend on taking this seriously. As the one thing that I've been lacking for so long is probably what has caused me to (almost) break down mentally several times within the past few weeks: faith. In humanity, in myself...and in God. Oh, and on another note: I've started writing on another project. And this one I hope to keep going. Aim low, dream high. Current Mood: calmCurrent Music: "Reach out and touch faith..." | | Thursday, November 18th, 2004 | | 11:59 pm |
Mother, are you angry with your child? I can see it in your dark skies. Mother, can't you see the pain he's in? He's been wallowing in sorrows all this time. Mother, can't you stop raining down on him? Just to let the sun show through one cloud? Mother, can't you bring him back the light Which he feels is no longer allowed? I stare at God, right in the face And the fear washes over me But then as soon I turn my head around The ocean begins to call for me I can't begin to turn away As the memories float away inside my head I've needed this moment for a while now To bring my soul back from the dead. Mother, I thank you for the time That you spent scolding me with the storm Mother, I thank you for it all The rain, the lightning, glorifying your form Mother, I just want you to know That I feel myself coming back Mother, I just wanted you to know My old self feels like he's coming back. Dedicated to Mother, God, Higher Power. Earth. Thank you. Current Mood: rejuvenated |
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