A Writer's Musing

Storyboarding.

2010-05-11T17:19:00.002-04:00

I've decided to start working on my crossover sequel again. A major portion of the story involves the usage of music, and because of that I decided that the two crossover characters needed soul songs.

Luca is the dark spirit of destruction, chaos, and turbulence. Phil is the white spirit of reconstruction, revival, and comfort. These are their soul songs.

Luca's Soul Song: Dark Spirit

Ablaze,
Set the world aflame.
Awaken,
The demons within your name.

Ruined life in one explosion
Destroyed this soul in the course of a night
Love fell victim to corrosion
From destiny the spirit dares to flight.

Dark Spirit is the entity
That lives within this twisted heart
Dark Spirit, you can only see
How the world's meant to fall apart.

And yet Dark Spirit tries to love
The purest essence of its opposite
Claiming it fate from heavens above
But can white energy love Dark Spirit?

Set the world ablaze with fiery rage
From the skies falls crimson rain
Tormented spirit released from a tiny cage
Wanting only to spread its lifelong pain.

It is a Dark Spirit that lives a lie.
In never-ending conflict of right or wrong
And Dark Spirit now emits its cry
In the form of an evil soul song.

***

Phil's Soul Song: White Spirit

Trying to make a living in silence
But unsuccessful, moving on anyway.
Fixing the wounds of all the violence
Desiring nothing but a better day.

The White Spirit emits a lovely song
A source of comfort and consolation
With silver skills that rights all wrongs
And erases all the devastation.

All the spirit aims for is to please
The world around it forever more
Always does its best to calm and ease
The one and only that it adores.

White Spirit tangles with a darker force
And together the two begin to blend
While not always agreeing, of course
What one destroys, the other mends.

The White Spirit is large of heart
Makes sure to spread its power to one and all
Consoling the world before it comes apart
Making sure to catch anyone who dares to fall.

The song of the White Spirit echoes distantly
In the ears of those who can hear it sing
And the song will play on eternally
For the White Spirit, joy it always brings.

2010-05-08T23:05:00.002-04:00

What have they done to you?

I know that it's not normal protocol for the child to want something for Mother's Day, but I do. I want my mother back... I want my amazing, wonderful, loving, caring, loyal mother back.

Where did she go? What have they done to her?

I have to make a confession:

I found the note earlier today.

I stumbled across it due to curiosity and boredom. I wish I hadn't. I read this note and felt a chilling wave of nausea and sorrow that I couldn't possibly describe and hopefully will never have to replicate. How long has it been this way, and why haven't you asked us to help you?

Did my episode back in March not do anything to you? This is like watching myself back a few months ago. This is almost exactly what happened to me... It's like stepping back in time. The worst image of all...

I remember my hallucination of you. My wicked hallucination of you looking up at the ceiling of my room, crying, pleading with me why. The image that scared me the most is now coming back to haunt me in the worst possible way.

What have they done to you? Everything seemed to be going so well yesterday, and now today you seem to have fallen completely apart. You're pushing away everyone who loves and cares the most for you. It's like someone has kidnapped you and took you away forever.

And I just want my mother back. I miss her so much that it hurts. I hope she never forgets that I love her, and I hope she knows that I'm so, so sorry I wasn't aware. That I wasn't close enough to her to see the signs. And I hope one day she can forgive me for my shortcomings.

I miss you, Mom. Please come back soon.

2010-05-02T21:02:00.002-04:00

My first piece in quite the time...

Inspired by... things. And feelings. And reality.

Sweet Dream Nightmare

"Open your eyes," the voice declares
In a voice sweet as symphony
He awakens to find her standing there
Just as real as she could ever be.

He blinks a few times at this girl
Standing before him just inches away
Inside her eyes is his whole wide world
And seeing her has just made his day.

He springs forward to grasp her tight
Bringing his loving arms to caress her so
Unbelieving she is there in sight
Refusing now to ever let her go...

He closes his eyes to fight back crying
Happy tears that had waited for so long...
Only to wake up in real life sighing
That again reality has proven him wrong.

The fact of the matter was, she was a dream
A mirage of a love so strong but far away
He blinks a few times, so real she had seemed!
But now he has to start his actual day.

He lays his head down in his bed
And curls up tightly facing one side
Closing his eyes tightly with tears to be shed
Such emotion he normally tried to hide...

But in this moment in time
He allows himself a chance to be weak
Figuring that it can't be much of a crime
If no one else is there of it to speak.

And after a while the tearshed ends
And the stinging begins to slow
He's back to normal once again
But the feeling never goes.

He cups his heart within his hand
As he stands up to face the day
Love being something he'll never understand
More tears of sorrow and dismay.

She comes to him in waves of visions
Because she cannot come to him in reality
Each dream becoming another incision
In his heart. And are they meant to be,

This young and unfortunate pairing
Love so strong it spans such distance
A connection, to them, worth sharing
Even if the cruelest, truest existance

Says that they will never be one
That their arms will never embrace...
Yet despite all the pain that's done
Together this young couple saves face

And continues to claim that fate will see
Them through until the very end...
Until they are finally together in reality,
They'll suffer this sweet dream nightmare again.

2010-04-29T17:41:00.002-04:00

I've run out of things to say to you, so I'm going to say the only thing I know I can say to you any more:

"Good luck."

I'm sorry that I will not stand by and watch you purposelly do this to yourself.

I'm sorry I was never supportive enough.

I'm sorry that I always seem to turn my back on the people I care for.

I'm sorry that you ever had the misfortune of meeting me.

Good luck with the rest of your life.

Good luck with everything.

An Open Letter.

2010-03-22T17:22:00.002-04:00

To whom this may or may not concerns,

Allow me to start by apologizing for how all of this turned out. I know this isn't at all how you planned it, but life throws you curveballs sometimes, y'know?

I couldn't take it anymore. Your constant disappearances for hours (or days) at a time with no warning. Your continuous accusations that I was the one who was forgetting, when I know good and well I was not. Having to constantly turn to other people for comfort and solace because, guess what, you weren't there. I have more of a "relationship" with my best friend than I have with you, and you know why? Because he's here. You rarely are, and when you are, you're usually preoccupied with twenty other things.

I realize you have a life outside of me, and that is why I'm letting you go. Your life is far too hectic to have to put up with someone as dependent and clingy as I, and it's not fair to you to force you to be here if you can't (or can't be bothered to) be here. I want you to live your life to its fullest, and I'm just a two-ton weight attached to your ankle that keeps you from thriving. So I'm cutting you loose, setting you free, and giving you your freedom. Sky's the limit now, no?

I don't know what else to do and for my shortcomings, I apologize. I've tried everything I know to do to keep myself from getting this far, but in the end I failed. I'm lonely without you and miserable because I'm lonely... while you? Hell, you survive and thrive regardless of what I do. You don't need me and I don't know why you convince yourself otherwise. I'm not going to be the weight that holds you down or the person who holds you back from being everything you can be.

In the end, I don't think I will ever be able to accept you having such a thriving life outside of me. I need someone who thrives with me, not without. I need someone who wants to spend more time with me than you do. I need someone whose interests parallel mine so we have a point of connection. I need someone who actually will give me undivided attention. I need someone who will tell me when they're leaving, every time. I'm sorry, but I don't need this. Neither do you.

I hope that life treats you well and I hope that you succeed in anything and everything you do. Take good care of yourself and may you be prosperous.

Love always,
Dani.

2010-03-22T10:51:00.002-04:00

You know what I hate?

1. People who can't expend the little bit of energy it takes to be courteous.
2. People you can't count on to be there.
3. People who disappear for hours at a time for no reason.
4. People who come back from said disappearances and act as if nothing wrong ever happened.
5. Myself for letting myself be suckered in by them.

2010-03-14T15:06:00.002-04:00

I love my boys. I don't know where I'd be without them.

Joseph is my number one person. He annoys the living hell out of me on a regular basis. He calls me on Skype almost every day, even if it's just to go to sleep. We don't even have to be talking to each other. I can be playing one game while he's playing another, and no words have to be spoken. The sheer thought that he is there and wanting to spend time with me is all that I need. We watch videos together, we watch YouTube together, we watch each other play video games. He wants to spend time with me, and it's obvious. While he annoys the hell out of me sometimes, I know that he cares about me.

Niko is my number two person. He checks on me to make sure I'm feeling okay, and he's willing to listen to me rant and rave about things going on that upset me. He sends me random LOLcat pictures that cheer me up and sends me YouTube links that amuse me. He even occasionally gets on Skype and talks to me until he falls asleep. He genuinely cares about me and makes sure I know it, and it makes me feel like there's some kind of good in the world.

If I didn't have my boys, I don't know where I'd be in the world.

I love you guys!

2010-03-13T20:33:00.003-05:00

Why did I ever think I could maintain a relationship with someone who doesn't treat me the same way I treat him?

Why did I ever think I could love someone who can't put another person above himself?

Why did I ever think I could stay with someone that I deep down can't trust?

I'm tired of being available to people who don't give a shit. I'm tired of being controlled by someone who blatantly takes advantage of my weak-hearted nature. I'm tired of receiving mixed messages that one minute say "I love you" then the next minute say "Oh, just kidding!"

I've done my best to be here whenever it was convenient for you, to listen to you when you needed an ear, to throw around when you needed a punching bag. I never did get the same treatment. It was always whenever it was convenient for you. But you know what, I know now that it's okay. At least I can put other people above myself and show them that I care about their feelings. Too fucking bad for me that I can't find anyone out there who shows the same piece of dignity.

Fortunately for me, I only take two weeks of mourning a split before I get over it. Tomorrow will be two weeks exactly, and I'll be able to finally move on and get over everything. Then I won't have to be around to be your punching bag. Then I won't have to be around to get my feelings hurt on a regular basis by you, because it officially won't matter what I think or feel. I'm tired of crying over you and your blatant disrespect of my feelings and emotions.

In the end, I realize now that you completely abandoned me when I needed you the most. You deserted me without so much as thinking twice about it, and I know now that I don't need that in my life. I need someone who will stand loyally at my side no matter what happens to me, not some kind of coward who ducks and runs at the first sign that I'm not "normal." Fuck cowardice, I'm cowardly enough without having to try to be brave for another person. Besides, I thought it was the man's job to be the brave one, anyway? Whoops, guess I was wrong there.

It doesn't matter now. I realize I don't want someone that treats me like crap around me to treat me like that. I realize now that I'm tired of crying for some immature and selfish brat who won't take the time to think about what his actions can do to other people. I'm on a whole new regimen thanks to you, and you show no signs of caring about it.

I take expensive medications that my family can't afford for me now because of you.

I have an entirely new daily routine now because of you.

My other friends don't like what I've become now because of you.

My feelings and emotions are regulated now because of you.

Can you see what the connecting factor in all of these situations is? Or do you not care to try? Or do you not want to try?

I guess since I have an entirely new lifestyle, I should just go all the way with it. Maybe join a gym and lose the excess weight that I kept around for you, so that maybe I can be appealing to someone else -- I'm not waiting on you to change your mind anymore, I'm done with showing you more patience that I'm normally willing to give. Maybe I'll grow out my hair and put in more layers. Maybe change my wardrobe from the loner gamer girl to something a little more in-style and fashionable.

What? I'd lose everything that I am?

...I've already lost all that. What's left to lose?

Do us both a favor and just stay out of my life. If you can't care about me, I don't need or want you around. If all you want to do is hurt people, go find someone else. If all you want to do is lie to someone's face about everything, go find someone who's willing to listen to the lies, because I'm not.

I'm done being the one you control. The days for that are officially over.

Nothing.

2010-03-11T18:01:00.003-05:00

In the end, I'm left with nothing.

I wish my heart would stop, because all it ever does is hurt me. If I could rip it out and abandon it, I'd do it without hesitation. I wish I could have a robotic heart so that maybe I wouldn't have to feel emotion. Then I could live without having to deal with constantly caring that I wake up unwanted every day. Then I wouldn't have to spend every day taking expensive medications that nobody can afford for me because I wouldn't have any emotions with which to have problems with.

I've never felt so low in my whole life. Finding out that I've once again been toyed with and taken advantage of, and all for nothing. Finding out that the feelings of hope I had earlier in the day were for absolutely nothing. Finding out that the little bit of happiness I was feeling earlier on wound up being snatched away from me.

I wish I had more to say right now, but I simply feel like death.

Eighth.

2010-03-08T20:08:00.002-05:00

The title means nothing, by the way. It simply represents the date. I lack originality.

So I went to the doctor today. He's pleased with how I've "far" I've come in a week. With only one mild episode and fewer hallucinations, he's convinced that we're on the right track towards getting me "fixed." To making me a normal, working, functioning human being.

But at what cost? My friends have told me they don't like the changes I've made. They don't like the new, calmer me. They don't like that my life is now on a schedule of 6 AM to 8 PM (earlier or later depending on my medication time). They don't like that I'm able to think more clearly, or react more rationally to things that come my way.

I'm confused -- it seems that in order for me to be likable, I have to be a manic, suicidal mess. I have to have trouble sleeping and chronic insomnia in which I don't sleep for up to seven days at a time. I have to be hyperactive all the time without any time to try and rationalize anything. I'm not allowed to be calm? I'm not allowed to be level? I have to be a mess or I'm not worth it anymore?

I guess I'm going to be living a very lonely life soon. I'm not willing to go back to being manic and to being a psychotic, suicidal wreck. Regardless of anything I might've said in my state of disarray, I do care about my friends and family and don't want to hurt them intentionally. Ever. I love my family and my friends (even though, as of late, they show no real interest in me), and would do anything I could for them. ...I thought that by turning my life around for what was supposed to be the better would actually improve things, but it has done nothing but ruin it all.

Only one friend treats me the way he's always done. Only one. And I hope he realizes how much I appreciate it, because I really do. When I'm talking to him, he never makes me feel awkward, sad, or upset with who I am. No matter what happens to me, he treats me with the same behavior he has since the day we met. He doesn't walk on eggshells around me and he doesn't make me feel like I'm volatile or "broken." He makes me feel... human. And I thank him, so very, very much for what he does.

Thank you, Joseph. Thank you so much. I honestly don't know where I'd be without you.

On another note, the person that I wanted to try and maintain a relationship with has all but thrown me out of the picture. I don't think he wants to talk to me anymore, nor does he care about the various goings-on in my life. That really stings a lot when I think about it, because he was the catalyst that helped me realize my life was out of order. The person who basically saved my life seems to have turned his back on me.

I don't think he wants me around anymore. Maybe I cause him some kind of pain... and if I do, perhaps he's right that I should go away forever. I don't want to hurt the person who rescued me. I don't want to hurt the person that my heart belonged (and, to a fair extent, still belongs) to. I never meant to hurt him, and I never meant to cause him so much distress. If this means that I need to go away, pack my things and never look back... Well... I guess I need to get started doing that.

You've changed on me, and I severely miss the person you used to be. The funny, caring, gentle person you used to be has upped and disappeared, and I've been left with this distant, angry, bitter replacement who often leaves me in tears. Tears of confusion and sorrow; tears of pain and agony. Tears of doubt.

I'm sorry for any pain I ever caused you, because I never meant, for one second, to ever hurt you. I feel as if this is all my fault, and I don't know what to do to remedy it except to pack my things and leave you to your life... which seems to have gotten busier since my departure. Maybe you're finally living the life you always wanted, and my hanging on is the one negative iota that keeps you from acheiving happiness.

And I'm sorry. From the bottom of my heart, I'm extremely sorry.

I miss you. The person you used to be. The person we used to be. The life we used to live. I miss it. But I see that I will never have it again. And now the problem has shifted from me trying to bring it back, to me forcing myself to accept it and move on on my own. Because it seems like you've moved on, and I've been left behind again.

I'll miss you. But I guess I'll always have our memories to hold onto, because I can no longer hold onto you. Please find yourself again, and soon. If not for me, then for yourself. I'll miss you so much. That's all I know what to say.

You've changed.

I miss you.

But I know I have to let you go.

For your own benefit.

Goodbye...

Goodbye forever.

I'll never stop caring, and you'll know where to find me when the time comes.

Tirade.

2010-03-07T17:05:00.003-05:00

This song by Staind sums everything up for me, I guess.

I'm having to resort to talking to myself, again, because nobody can be bothered with me. That's alright, I guess.

I'm slowly getting sick of the people I call "friends." I do my best to be there for them, yet they can't do me the same service. Apparently it's too much effort or something else that I don't or can't see. I guess it's okay. I guess it's become okay to completely trample over people you call "friend" and I guess it's become okay to not give a damn about anyone but yourself. That's cool, I guess. I oughta take a lesson from my "friends" and do the same thing to them that they do to me.

I just needed someone to talk to. You were just too busy with yourself.

Here's something I want everyone to know: From now on, when you ask me what's wrong with me and I reply with "Nothing," you fucking deserve it. Okay? It took a lot for me to learn to trust people with my personal life, and lately no one has treated it well enough to deserve a proper response from me. Only people who deserve a response will receive one, and everyone else will get the blanket "Nothing," or "I'm fine." And you know what I have to say to all of you who are going to get pissy about it? Fucking deal with it.

You were never there for me to express how I felt. I just stuffed it down.

I'm tired of the way I've been treated ever since my last "episode." Or whatever the hell you want to call it. Everyone's been treating me differently, and it fucking sucks. Hard. I don't feel like myself anymore, thanks to everyone's newfound behavior towards me. If you aren't going to treat me like a normal human being, just fuck off, okay? Seriously. Just fuck off if you can't be bothered to treat me the way I deserve to be treated. And go die in a fire while you're at it.

Sometimes I wish karma would bite some people in the ass, and as hard as it possibly could. Some people really fucking deserve to have carelessness, thoughtlessness, selfishness, and rudeness shoved in their face, and I'm not the kind to willingly dish it out. Although I oughta learn how.

I'm tired of getting hurt over and over again, by the same people every time. I'm stupid for continuing to fall for their games, and they suck for taking advantage of a weak-hearted person.

In the end, we all lose.

2010-03-04T07:10:00.001-05:00

I guess you wanted me to hate you.

Slowly but surely, that is becoming reality.

2010-03-03T19:06:00.002-05:00

I guess you want me to hate you.

My New Life is Lonely.

2010-03-03T17:43:00.002-05:00

I don't have my support beam anymore. But that's my own fault, and I guess I need to accept that it isn't coming back.

My new life is lonely. Even when I'm out with my family, I feel alone. I send messages that don't get responses to... that should teach me that things aren't going back to what I once knew. Life as I knew it is over. I need to turn away and look to something else as a support beam.

How could you do this to me, I wonder. How could you be the catalyst for everything, and then just go away and wash your hands of the whole matter? It's like you don't care to follow my progress anymore. Hell, maybe you don't. Maybe I'm holding onto a dead subject. Perhaps it's time I let it go. I'm sorry I continue to send stupid messages and continue clinging on as if any sort of contact could continue to remain. I know now that it's time to make a clean cut. I know now that I should go ahead and delete it all instead of clinging onto it as if it will magically reappear and be okay again. The fact of the matter is, it won't. I see that now. I'm sorry that I held on, that I'm still holding on, and I'll never bother you again.

I'll finally go ahead tonight and delete it all. I'll finally let go of that last bit of hope and let you have your life back completely and totally. You no longer have to worry about Heather and all her misfortunes. You no longer have to worry about your phone going off and it being another idiotic message from me. You no longer have to deal with logging onto MSN or Skype or Yahoo or whatever stupid messenger exists out there with my name upon it. You no longer have to worry about anything from me. I understand everything now, and I'm sorry that I didn't see the signs sooner.

Know that you will be missed.

My new life is lonely.

I'm lonely.

I need attention.

But no one cares to give it to me.

My Life.

2010-03-02T16:10:00.005-05:00

Apparently my life could not remain as it had been. In the course of one night, everything changed.

I'm being threatened to be put away in a mental hospital if I have one more "outburst."

My medications are being tweaked about.

I'm required to be sedated at night.

I'm supposed to be "monitored" at all times, in fear I might do something to myself.

And to top it all off, I was completely deserted. And now I'm finding that I have to deal with all of these changes on my own.

Apparently my life was all wrong. Perhaps it still is. I don't know anymore. Random strangers approach me now and ask, "Are you sure you're okay?" My dad notices that I'm more reserved and quiet. I go to school and stare at the floor, often spacing out in the middle of lectures and finding myself unable to reconnect. I no longer dream at night... Either the sedatives have killed my dream self, or she killed herslf. Sleep is now like staring into a void all night.

The sedatives have killed my short term memory. I have a hard time remembering what I did the evening before when I wake up in the mornings. I've found myself asking questions that I already asked before (and gotten answers to), because I can't recall ever asking in the first place.

Pretty soon I'm going to start seeing a psychiatrist to try and figure out the root of what has caused me to mentally collapse. To attempt to put together the millions of pieces I apparently have shattered into. To attempt to bring me out of the hole that I apparently have tried to bury myself in.

Do I feel like I'm a normal human being anymore? No. There are only three people in the world that make me feel "normal" anymore. That make me feel like I'm not a complete disaster and waste of a human lifeform. That haven't deserted me; that haven't abandoned me; that treat me as if I haven't changed a bit. I fear that one day they, too, will leave my side, and I will truly be alone.

But I'm learning that being alone isn't as lonely as I thought. I can stare out into space for however long I choose, and not have to worry about forgetting to offer up a response to someone. I can cry as hard and as long as I want without ever having to worry about making someone else uncomfortable. I don't have to offer any more excuses for why I am the way I am, because nobody cares anymore. I could vanish off the planet tomorrow and it wouldn't affect a damn thing. The cord that kept me tethered to sanity has been cut, and I'm free to float around in whatever space I choose.

Yet my life is not mine to control. It's now controlled by doctors, specialists, and medications. My moods are regulated and stabilized. My sleep is controlled. My emotions are kept in check. Gotta stay in line, now. Gotta stay in line.

Can't afford to stray. Can't afford to be locked away.

But at the same time, I have nothing to lose... I've lost it all already.

Dani... no longer exists.

My name is Heather.

And this is my new life.

Confession.

2010-02-16T19:39:00.000-05:00

Makes you feel like crap when you have to tell someone to go away because you're afraid of saying something you'll regret. Makes you feel really bad that you can't be the helpful, useful person you're supposed to be; that you let your selfishness overrun your judgement and you want everything to be about you. Makes you feel like the world's biggest heel when you realize you're the reason you're having problems with two of the most important people in your life.

I can't blame anyone but myself for the problems I'm having with these people. I know it's all my fault things have gotten how they have. My inability to properly communicate has cost me one relationship and seems to be working on costing me another. I've lost one of my biggest supporters and made her feel like she's not worth a single thng to me. Then I go and attack my other big column of support and try to tear him down because, God forbid, I needed him and he had a life of his own to live. I'm the most selfish person in the world and I don't deserve having people in my corner.

I learned why you're not supposed to drink while on the medications I take... they make it hard to breathe. Yet I've done it anyway, because I feel like I deserve to suffer somehow. Today when I got home from school I went to do the dishes and slashed my finger open on a knife. I let myself bleed for a while because I deserved the pain. I've spent the better part of the afternoon staring at the wall because nobody wanted to talk to me when I needed them. The hurt turned to anger, and the anger turned to selfish rage. And now I'm sitting alone in the dark, chugging down another drink because I've earned myself another punishment. I deserve it. I deserve all of it.

I'm not wanted on Monday. I don't think I was really wanted today. Can I blame either of them for not wanting me around? No. I don't want me around, either.

Lately my "psychic" abilities have been at their peak, and all the dreams I have at night are coming true the next day. The day before yesterday, I dreamt that I had permanently ruined my relationship with my mother... yesterday afternoon I got the email that confirmed my fear. Last night I dreamt that I pushed my boyfriend away with continuous control issues and manipulation. Today I shoved him away as hard as I could because he didn't do as I wanted him to. It makes me wonder what I'll dream about tonight. Hopefully it'll be how I get crushed underneath a truck or something, because I've fucked up everything in my life lately and I don't deserve more chances.

I apologize to everyone that I've ruined my relationships with. None of the fault lies in them at all... it's all me. It always has been me, and it always will be in the future. People are better off without me and I'm not going to deny that anymore. I'm not going to make up excuses for myself to make myself feel better because I don't deserve it... nor should I lie to myself anymore.

I'm going to go back to staring at the wall. Hopefully the alcohol will slow my breathing enough that I fall out for the night, and I don't fuck anything else up.

I guess what I'm trying to say is I'm sorry for being who I am, and I'm sorry that I exist.

I'm just sorry.

Don't Know Anymore.

2010-01-30T17:35:00.003-05:00

Forgetting to Remember

She knows she's supposed to be upset
But please try to forgive her
Because this girl has decided to forget
How it feels to remember.

She's not content being left behind
To drown by herself in memories
She's decided now to save her mind
This girl wants only to be free

She's laying in the warmth of bed
Staring at the ceiling blankly
Could be thinking of him but instead
She finds she is not and frankly,

This was something long in the making.
She closes her eyes and goes to sleep
She's grown tired of simply mistaking
This for the "love" she dares to keep.

She's decided to let him do his own thing
She can't keep him on a leash anymore
But she doesn't feel pain at her heart wring
Or even the feelings she had before...

Because how to remember, she has lost
This knowledge to feelings of sadness and disdain
And all of the loneliness has finally cost
Her to forget how to feel freedom, and even pain.

She's become a numb figurine upon a stage
She quickly looks away from him and waves
Releasing her love from his rusted out cage
Knowing their love could never be saved.

Her eyes show nothing in their depths
Her heart beats in a monotonous tone
He can't see anything in her except
The blank nothingness she has shone

To be the result of all her time alone
When she used to stand loyally at the side
Waiting for him to return, she has grown
Into someone who has no feelings left to hide.

She smiles at him, but there is no emotion
She gives him a wave and sends him on his way
While his heart tears apart and his brain a commotion
Of thoughts of agony and dismay.

And he'll crawl to her feet
And he'll hold on tight, looking up with tearing eyes
Refusing to acknowledge his defeat
Refusing to let go but she can't hear his cries.

With a solitary tear running down her face
She'll pull away from him and turn around
Walking away to give him back his space
To him making not another little sound.

He'll lay on the ground in a broken heap
Never understanding why she had to go
Putting his head down as the heartbreak seeps
Into the depths of his soul, and then he'll know

That she was supposed to be upset
But he'll just have to forgive her
Because the poor girl seems to forget
What it's like to remember.

Goes With the Post Below.

2010-01-28T12:09:00.002-05:00

This goes with the post below it, if anyone cares.

Knowledge

Another day she comes home
Alone
Should've gotten
Used to it by
Now
And yet it's still another
Stab
In the chest.
In the
Heart.

But in the
Night before,
There was an
Argument,
And she realized a
Decision
Must be made.
And now that
Knowledge
Threatens to tear her
Apart.
To shreds.
And he still isn't here
To care about it.

She spends the day with
Her eyes
Staring down at the
Floor

Waiting for him to
Make his dramatic
Entrance,
So she can enforce on him
This knowledge
She's had all day to
Prepare for.
Yet hours will pass
Before he
Dares to make himself
Known.

She sits in an eerie
Silence
As she contemplates
The knowledge
That runs wild in her
Head.
She knows that what she
Has discovered
Will cause a great
Tear to appear in the ground
And someone will
Fall
Through.

And she's decided
This time it
Won't
Be her.

When he finally makes
His wonderful self
Known,
He walks into an ambush
And suddenly realizes it
When she looks up
And locks her eyes
Against his.
The gaze is strong and
Will not release.

Before he can even ask
The question of
"What's wrong?"
Her dark eyes flicker
And she points him
Away.

He staggers backwards
Suddenly winded
Struck across the face
By an imaginary hand
Blasting the knowledge
Into his brain with
Merciless speed.
His wounded gaze
Stares her down
But she simply
Points him away.

He looks over his
Shoulder
At where the
Index finger directs
And spies an
Open door
Leading to the outside
World.
The knowledge strikes
Again,
And his wounded gaze
Begins to bleed.
Trembling,
She points him away.

And finally she utters
A
Single
Solitary
Word
From the corner of her
Mouth.
"Go."

The knowledge makes its
Fatal blow to his
Heart,
And with bleeding wounds
He turns away
And pushes himself
Through the darkness
Of the world that
Now awaits him.

Out of Time.

2010-01-28T11:18:00.002-05:00

This is basically going to be one big confessional/depressed vent. If you don't care to read these musings, I can't say I'd blame you.

I've run out of time. My patience ran out of time. The shields have all come down, and the truth is coming out. I'm selfish, self-absorbed, self-centered, manipulative, mean, and controlling. I'm not capable of maintaining a relationship with someone who thinks for himself and doesn't like being micromanaged. I need someone who appreciates my controlling ways and doesn't mind having his life scheduled for him. Ha. Haha. As if I'll ever find anyone who will ever just lie down and do anything/everything I say.

I'm jealous. Jealous of anyone or anything that gets more fire, spirit, passion, and time than me. I find myself growing a stronger hatred for these things the more I find myself exposed to them. I bite my tongue a lot and restrain myself from saying hurtful or mean things, but the truth of the matter is... I don't care. I just don't. I'm not as fiery about these things, nor will I probably ever be. My passions in life are more intellectual... perhaps I need to find someone whose interests actually, y'know, parallel mine. So we'd actually have points of relation. So we could both do things together. So that the passion he felt for those other things, he could feel for me too... at the same time, even. It's hard to maintain a relationship when I'm one way and he's another completely. I'm tired of feeling like I'm on the back burner in comparison to other things. The fact of the matter is, though, I am. I tried for a while to convince myself that I was more important than these other things, but I've quickly come to learn that I was lying to myself. So I've stopped. But that doesn't mean I want to spend my whole life on the back burner. Because I don't. I want to be the most important thing. I want to be the reason he has fire in his eyes. The reason his heart beats every day. The reason he wakes up in the morning. Stupid me, living in such a fantasy world.

People apparently have very in-tune radars in their heads that can detect negative people and keep them from associating with them. That's got to be what's wrong with me. I'm a negative person, and as a result, I have all of one friend outside the computer. And I hardly see him. And even when we're together, he's talking to other girls as well. Flirting and such. And I shouldn't get jealous when he goes off and talks to other people, but I do. I wish he'd focus all his time and attention on me. If I could find a guy willing to spend all his free time with me, I'd flock to him and never let him go. But the fact is, that guy probably doesn't exist. Maybe I should just imagine him in my head, and have a relationship that exists purely in my dreams at night.

Why can't I be more interesting? I read, write, draw, and play videogames. Pfeh, nobody cares about those hobbies. They're overused and as such, I'm just another face in the crowd. I'm boring, dull, uninteresting, and not worth the time and effort of cultivating a relationship of any kind with. I guess that's okay. I'm about to give up with maintaining friendships and relationships and just get acquainted with being alone all the time. I mean, if I'm alone then I can't think I'm being ignored. If I'm alone, then no one cares about me and nobody has to deal with me when I fall down like this. If I'm alone, then I know nobody cares and I don't get lulled into the false security of thinking there's someone out there who will be there whenever I need them... because nobody is. Every time I get depressed, I conveniently find myself alone. Just like today; just like now. Where is he? Hell if I know. Is it my business to know? Apparently not. So why should I care?

I don't want to be in a relationship where I feel alone. Where I spend hours upon hours waiting like a puppy, keeping her tail wagging even as the rain starts drenching her and she slowly realizes she's been forgotten again. But her tail keeps wagging because she doesn't want to look like she doesn't care about her master. Even if he's too busy for her. Even if he's been too busy for her for a long time and should've let her go before she got too attached.

Quoting Shinedown's song Some Day: "I will always be attached to you, but I'm never gonna feel the same."

I guess what I'm trying to say is I'd rather be alone and know I'm alone than being with someone and thinking I'm not alone even though I am. Pure isolation is nowhere near as painful as psuedo-isolation. Again, I guess I can always have a perfect relationship in my dreams. One where I'm worth something, where we spend all our time together, where I'm the most important thing.

When did I become so selfish. It's all about me, me, me.

I think I'm going to have to be selfish now and take my heart back. I think I'm going to have to push it into the depths of my soul and leave it alone for a while. Maybe I shouldn't be pursuing anything serious with anyone right now. Maybe I'm not mature enough. Maybe I'm not worth enough. Maybe I should just stay to myself and let other people have their lives and their happinesses without them having to put up with me in the corner, always complaining and the ray of negativity that kills the day.

I think today will be the day I simply disappear. I don't think I should leave notices anymore -- nobody leaves me any notices, so why should I leave anyone one? You know what. I talk like anyone actually cares. How optimistic of me. I think today is going to be the day I simply vanish into thin air. Maybe I'll tell a few people that I think genuinely care, but that'll be it. I'm just going to disappear into the depths and never come back. Then we'd see who really cares.

If anybody.

The fact of the matter is, life would go on whether or not I existed.

If only I could just...

Just close my eyes one day.

And that'd be it.

That'd be nice.

For everyone.

I guess I've said all I've got to say.

So I'll go.

Stage Two.

2010-01-25T11:15:00.002-05:00

Useless

I guess I'm just some kind of toy
That at any time gets thrown away
Whenever I cannot create the joy
People want when with me they play.

I used to be nicely painted
Used to wear a lovely smile
But it seems I became tainted
After being used a while...

And now I'm sitting on the shelf
Barely managing to survive
Spending so much time all by myself
When on attention do I thrive.

I guess I've just become outdated
I guess my time has reached an end
Or maybe all my facts were misstated
And these lies I'm trying to defend...

But one thing is strong in my mind
One fact continues to stay clear
I've become useless and left behind
To simply wither away alone here.

Is It What You Wanted?

2010-01-25T10:42:00.003-05:00

I'm asking that question to two people today.

Person #1: I offered do to everything that I possibly could, and you fucking stepped all over everything I said. You then had the nerve to send a text this morning that was basically rubbing salt in the wound. There was NO point in sending ME a text message that was meant for SHELBY, praising HER about how adult and mature SHE was for stepping up. What the fuck point was there in sending that shit to ME? A fucking deliberate stab in the heart, and I hope it's worth it to you.

Person #2: I really wish I could do to you what you do to me sometimes. Blanking me out for hours at a time, completely ignoring me, and then playing ignorant when I'm angry about it. The Ostrich Theory doesn't fucking work, okay? Just because you've stuck YOUR head in the sand doesn't mean I've stuck MINE down there too. I'm tired of trying to defend you with excuses, because I've run out of creativity to produce anymore lies. So I won't anymore. I hope this is what you wanted.

I hope this is what both of you wanted. I'm hurt and I'm angry and all I can say is I hope it was fucking worth it for you. Congratulations, you win.

Whatever though.

Curiosity.

2010-01-22T13:36:00.002-05:00

Jealousy

I wonder if I'm being weak
But I'm glad that you seem not to see
Deep within my dark green streak...
My strong sense of jealousy.

The passion that you show
For things that are not me
Makes the emerald monster grow
I try hard not to let you see.

But I fear my grip has grown tired
And I worry that your eyes will open
Seeing all the selfish things I've desired
And all my feelings gone unspoken.

I hide in the corners when you go away
And stab myself with all these blades
Making sure inside my jealousy will stay
Hoping to God that I can make the grade

That you'll never know just how I feel
How self-absorbed I really can be
I carve the secrets I try to conceal
And hope the pain will set me free.

But the pain never seems to leave my side
It's always driving needles in my soul
With every ounce of jealousy I dare not confide
Into my heart I tear out another hole.

I watch you from my dark point of existence
My head tilted to the side as you thrive
Tears running down my face at a distance
Because I feel as if I can barely survive

Without the time and attention from you I crave.
God, how I wish I could be your only thing...
But I keep this secret to myself so I can save
You from the misery that my jealousy'd bring.

And when you go away again like I know you will
I'll find myself sinking back into dark recesses
With more little razors in an effort to distill
The pain I feel because I am obsessive.

And hopefully you'll never see just all
The effort I go through to rehearse these lines
When you come back and for me you call
And I smile at you and say that I'm fine...

Because half the time, I admit that I'm not.
I plaster on makeup and wear a painted smile
Hoping that maybe with time my pain be forgot...
I guess I'm attached to a faker's style.

I'll put on long sleeves to cover the tries
So you can't see where all I've bled
I'll clear up my eyes so you don't see the cries
And I'll simply smile instead.

I'll hide all the daggers and all of the blades
That have carved confessions in my arms
And I'll even throw open the dusty old shades
Of my mind to conceal my self-harm.

Please know that the owner of your heart
Is full of lies that you will never see
That when you cut me open and tear me apart
My blood bleeds out a dark jade green.

I know that all my problems rest in me
And I'll never force on you the blame
I hate it that I'm so full of jealousy
Of the one whose heart beats as mine the same.

New Name, New Game.

2010-01-20T12:34:00.002-05:00

I'm soon going to be making a new FictionPress account. I'll be hiding out on a new pen name and it'll be based on stories rather than poetry.

A teaser from my first big project, World Disorders I: Rebuilding the Ruins will soon be posted somewhere here.

WDI is a revised version of my first ever novel, which was lost a few years ago. It's a Marioverse-based fanfiction. It stars my first real fictious alter ego, a sixteen-year-old boy named Daniel. I hope to make this version as good, or better, than my first version.

Anyway, new name, new game.

Here We Go.

2010-01-20T10:02:00.002-05:00

Just a little bit of poetry today...

Final Deception

She's releasing her grip
She's making a final correction
Taking back the honor that was stripped
Away in the face of the deception.

With a heavy heart but lightened mind
The fragile young woman turns away
A furious sprint she takes to leave behind
The life that fell into such disarray.

With an apology written on crumpled page
Scribbled in the inks of the purest blue
Left folded up in the middle of the stage:
I'm sorry that I can no longer love you.

The time has come to bid my goodbye
As much as my heart begs for me to stay...
You could not get over the need to lie
And your deception has finally driven me away.

And deep inside her blood boils with ice
A fire burns red hot but frigidly cold
Even though the love they shared was nice,
The continuous fables had long grown old.

Her green eyes have turned grey with clouds
That threaten to spill over in broken streams
But yet she tries to stand up tall and proud
Even though her heart within her screams

For her to return to all of the games
That finally split her world into two
She whispers to herself his tragic name,
I'm sorry that I can no longer love you.

She bites her lip and closes her eyes
Rising up unsteadily to her feet once more
Turning her back with tears she cries
Doing that which she's never done before.

With an apologetic look she tries to smile
And offers a half-hearted wave of farewell
Knowing that this was coming, all the while
Feeling like she's walking straight into hell...

I'm sorry that I can no longer love you,
But I hope that this will give you direction
To never stray from the tales that are true
Instead of offering stories of deception.

Untitled.

2010-01-18T22:17:00.002-05:00

What was I supposed to do?

It feels like I fell down from my pedestal and I've crashed down hard. I've been put in my place, it seems, and it's not as high as I thought it originally. I was never meant to be on the pedestal in the first place.

The biggest thing that I couldn't (and can't) get over is the pretending. The faking. I've been hurt by pretending and faking, and thought that maybe this time would be different. But I've found myself being played for a fool on multiple occasons, and now I'm left reeling in second guesses and paranoid doubts. And, damnit, I can't do it anymore. I hate being played, and that's what has happened here. I've been played.

And in the process, I've been hurt.

Not only that, but time was growing short anyway. Responses took ten or more minutes, often more. Conversations simply turned into squabbles, and squabbles turned into upsets. Why would I let that persist? Not only that, but things entered the picture that threatened to take away more of the precious limited time as it was. I guess I knew all along that I'd be letting go sooner or later. I couldn't compete with reality, and now I see that. I can't compete with real life. I can't compete with actual dreams and real goals to acheive.

I was never worth enough. I wasn't worth the honesty. I wasn't worth the time. I just wasn't worth it. I wish I'd known this earlier.

I guess there's nothing left for me to do.

I'm sorry that I wasn't worth the honesty, effort, and time.

I'm sorry that I apparently was forcing you into things you didn't want to do.

I'm sorry that I wasn't able to keep up and compete.

I'm sorry that I couldn't be what you want me to be.

Is It So Much To Ask?

2010-01-17T21:43:00.003-05:00

I wish people would be more up-front, direct, and honest with me instead of just leading me on.

Is it really that much to ask for?

I'm a big hater of dishonesty, lying, and the betrayal of trust. Normally I don't give second chances to people who betray my trust. Normally I don't give second chances to people when I can't be sure if they're telling me the truth or not. Not because I'm "holier than thou" or because I'm mean, but because I'm afraid of being hurt. I'm naive and quick to give all my trust to people, even when they don't necessarily deserve it...

So why can't people respect me and be honest and up-front with me about the way they feel in certain situations? Why do they have to play me for a fool and betray my trust? Why do they have to hurt me like that, on such a deep level?

It only makes me second guess my actions, rethink certain situations, and spoil specific moods. Is that really good for anyone? Or is it just that it's fun to put me through the ringer?

Perhaps the problem is I've given way too many chances...

Yep.

2010-01-13T15:03:00.004-05:00

It

I'm not going to be
It,
Your silly little
Toy
That you only
Play with
When you merely are
Bored.
Fuck all your shit
And fuck being your
Plaything.
I'm not going to be
It
Anymore.

I'm tired of hearing
It,
All your
Excuses and
Stories,
Your precious little
Fables
By which you
Hide behind.
Fuck being fed constant
Bitter-tasting
Pseudo-truths.
Fuck your shit.
I'm tired of
It.

I'm done with
All
Of this,
These pathetic and
Childish
Games that are played
Strictly by
Your
Rules.
You want to
Push
Someone around?
It
Ain't
Going to be
Me
Anymore.
Again.
Ever.

It
Is all boiling
Down to a
Point,
One that's
Sharp
As a sword and
Cuts
Just as deep.
Fuck being your
Pincushion.
I refuse to be
It
Any longer.

Love is
Not
Meant to be a
Suffering
Back-stabbing
Game of
Waiting
And
Silence.
If this is how
You
Perceive love to be,
I don't want
It.

You have pushed
Once too
Hard and
Once too
Far
And now I pack my
Things and my
Life
And retake the
Control
I once
Gave
To you.
You
No longer
Deserve
It.

We are
No
Longer
A thing.

It
Is broken.

It
Is spoiled.

It
Is ruined.

It
Is done.

This is
It.

2010-01-13T14:41:00.001-05:00

I'm done.

2010-01-13T10:41:00.002-05:00

Out of Time

The darkness has becoming blinding
And now I have to turn away
Because slowly I've been finding
That I simply cannot stay.

I turn away as quick as I can
Before the rain in my eyes you see
I know you probably don't understand
Why it is I have to set you free.

Before you get the chance to call
Before you beg me not to leave
Before I realize I've lost it all
Before I feel the pain I'll receive...

The streams begin to run down my face
As I leave you for this last time forever
I sob loudly so your voice is displaced
I close my eyes so I can't see us together.

I'll cry an ocean, this I know for sure
My eyes will bleed a thousand bloodshot tears
The pain of heartbreak I'll have to endure
My mind will replay memories of all the years.

From the first day our paths were crossed
From every night together that we shared
Up until the day we were forever lost
And to memories that will never be there.

As time wore on, my love grew stronger
But at the same time the distance grew
Between you and I, growing ever longer
And unfortunately you never knew

That one day the distance would cause a snap
That one day it would come to this
That one day I would spring on you this trap
And misery would replace your bliss.

Please don't hate me for what I do
But if you must, on you I'll accuse no blame
Because in the end I had to hurt you...
I'm sorry that you ever heard my name.

But I know that you'll be happier that
You can live your life to its prime
And hopefully soon you'll forget this spat
And simply know I ran out of time.

Sigh.

2010-01-11T20:28:00.002-05:00

Well, it happened again.

You would think I'd be used to it, considering it happens so much.

Yet it always upsets me just the same.

I don't like to be alone. Fortunately my best friend will be getting home soon, and I'll have someone to keep me company for a while. I've been away from being an "only child" for so long that I've forgotten how lonely it can be sometimes.

I don't understand how someone can so easily tune someone else out. Or "forget" to say they're going somewhere. Or just not bother. It feels... careless. Harsh in a way. Nearly cold. Makes me feel like I'm not worth the effort of general courtesy. I know I go on about it a lot, but it really does bother me.

Maybe I just can't let go of petty things. Maybe this whole matter is stupidly pathetic and I, in turn, am being stupidly pathetic by letting it get under my skin and affect me the way it does... because I have cried over it. Almost did tonight.

Wound up pacing about my room for a while because I couldn't think of anything else to do. Tried to go to sleep because I didn't know what else to do, but couldn't make myself do it... so I paced some more. Watched television. Stared at the ceiling. Tried to cheer myself up with MarioPaint and failed epically in the process.

Do I demand too much time? Do I demand too much attention? Do I demand too much in general? I sometimes feel like I do all of the above. I wish I weren't so clingy. So needy. So dependent. It's not fair to the people I love and care for, making them have to expend extra effort just to appease me... because then I get upset when I feel ignored.

And anytime I find myself randomly abandoned, like it feels like I was tonight, I don't know what to do with myself except curl up and wonder what I did to make the other person mad at me... to make them turn their back on me and desert me. I don't set out to make people angry. I don't set out to make people turn their backs on me. When someone turns their back on me, a little piece of me dies inside... and I only have so many pieces. It takes a really long time for me to "regrow" more pieces to kill off...

I guess I don't know what I'm saying at this point. I guess ultimately I'm confused and upset. Hurt slightly. Maybe I deserve it. Maybe I did something wrong.

Whatever it was, I'm sorry that I slipped up and did it. I didn't mean to run you away.

Snapping at a Pet Peeve.

2010-01-03T21:41:00.002-05:00

Discontent Cat is discontent.

When I'm talking to someone, I try my best to let them know when I'm going to be stepping away. I try my hardest not to leave a person hanging in limbo for hours at a stretch wondering when I'm going to be getting back. Why can't I get that same respect from others? They just fucking walk away from me whenever they please, don't bother telling me, and expect me to sit around and wait for however long until they decide to come back.

What am I, a dog? Just tie me up somewhere and walk away and I'll be there whenever you get back? Goddamn.

I recently had a major surgery: my gallbladder was removed. I presently have staples in my stomach that are trying to heal. This means I'm not running at full capacity, especially with the pain medications I've been given to keep the pain at bay. It would be nice of people to not be snapping at me right now about the things I'm currently unable to do. It'd really be nice of people to not be yelling at me because I'm being a bit more self-absorbed than usual. Aren't I allowed to have a few off days? If having a serious surgery isn't a good enough reason for it, I guess next time I should be dying on the floor before I ask for sympathy?

It was a little (actually very upsetting as well as) vexing to know that my cat was receiving more concern than I did when I tripped over him a few days ago. Very hard pill to swallow, that.

I try my best to plan my day around the time I get to spend with the people who matter most to me. I often blow off things I want to do (or even neglect to sleep) so I can get the most time I can with people when I want to spend time with them. And I'm learning that I'm the only one who bases her schedule this way. Everyone else bases their schedules around themselves and what they want to do, and it was quite angering to have myself being yelled at for something I work so damn hard at. I'm guessing I've just made myself far too available to everyone and they've come to know that I'll lay back and let them stomp all over me. I guess they're used to the idea that no matter how craptastically I feel, I can still be pushed about and even then will still wait like a kicked puppy for my bit of attention.

I wish that I could turn around and disappear for a few days, or disappear randomly during the day without saying where or why so that people understood how it feels when they do it to me. But it wouldn't do anything except hurt their feelings, so why would I be so blatantly mean? I can't force myself to do it. I hate feeling like I'm a dog, but that's how I feel.

"Oh, I don't have to say where I'm going to her because the chances are she'll wait up for me all day, no matter how long I decide to be away for. So where else can I go today? What else do I want to do today? Let's see..."

Meh. I have feelings and a life, too... It may not be as glamorous or exciting as others, but my life does exist. If you're gonna be away, why not say so so I don't spend an entire night waiting for you to come back, my mood steadily lowering until I'm either angry or depressed (but usually both) and I finally give up and go to bed for the night feeling bitter.

Why do people feel like they can take advantage of me? I guess I sort of left myself open to being walked all over because I'm always afraid I'm going to hurt someone's feelings. I guess when you show that you aren't going to hurt someone's feelings, that gives them permission to hurt yours. What a lousy lot in life, y'know?

I'm tired of people taking advantage of me. I'm tired of people yelling at me because God forbid I didn't do something their way. I'm tired of people being mad at me because I try to have a life of my own.

Excuse me for not doing things the way I was obviously meant to.

Above all else.

2009-12-28T16:51:00.002-05:00

End of Selfishness

In the end,
It was all my
Selfishness
That kept you imprisoned.

I know I was prone to
Flinging your feelings 'round
As if they were toys
And I but an angry child
Shattering
Smashing
Until all those emotions
Ceased to function in you.
They lay broken in
Tragically beautiful shards
Glistening in the light
But devoid of their life.
All because of
Selfishness.

To make the matters worse,
I had the glue to
Fix you and make you whole again,
And yet I simply walked away
To leave you to fix yourself.
No amount of apologies
Will ever make you whole.
But now I hope to try.

I admit I never treated
Your interests with the same care
I gave to my own.
Maybe it was my insecure fears
That prevented me from
Behaving properly,
Or perhaps it was that blasted
Selfishness
Playing me like an instrument
Over and over
Until the notes became real
And the truth became the notes.
All thanks to
Selfishness.

Gentle lyrics forever lost
Sweet truth shrouded in deception
Reality laced with darkness
Turning love into a quarrel of words
And turning me into a dreaded monster
That caused such pain and fear.
How could I ever forgive myself
For the creature I've become?
And how could you?
And could you?

I give honesty to the concept
That most of the fights were my instigation
Testing the water for limits
That I could not see,
But always pushing beyond those limits
When they were acheieved,
Just to see how far I could push.
Blatantly playing with fragile feelings
All because of my
Selfishness.

Even when you'd fire back at me
And I knowingly deserved every stab,
I'd hold it against you until
Apologies were rendered.
Apologies that I instead
Should have
Given
And not
Receieved.

But today I've decided to put
An end to all of my
Selfishness.
Today I've decided to take matters
Into my own shaking hands,
Throwing away the
Selfishness
That keeps me on this damned path.

Today I decided to give you
Every chance in the world that you
Never had with me,
A chance to live your life
Without the fear of
Shattering
To pieces;
A chance to live
The way you want to without
Someone always chiding
In the background;
A chance to live without
Hiding behind a shield
Because deep down you know
That I'm
Selfish.

Today is
The end of
Selfishness.

Some Morning Prose.

2009-12-24T07:40:00.003-05:00

Gotta love randomly getting the blues.

Acting

Staring out the window expression blank
A mind trapped in a body lost in space
Drifting aimlessly in a sea of thoughts.

Waterfalls forming.
The clouds are greying.

Everyone around her has their happiness
Everyone around her has their joy.
But where is hers?

Has it vanished into the depths of the soul
That inhabits her fragile form?

Did she accidentally let it fall away
Unable to catch it before it fell down the chasm,
Never to return?

A gifted actress this young girl has become.
Plastering makeup smiles written in
False-colored lipsticks.
Painting enthusiasm in her gentle green globes
Tinting them with tons of eyeshadow
Drawing pseudo-happiness in mascara on her lashes.
Blushing her cheeks pink with artistic laughter
That is simply all for show.

She memorized her lines to perform
A set of lyrics inked in blue
With all the truths scratched out in red
Never to be seen by the ones she loves the most.

Because nobody needs to know it's all for show.

Putting on her ratty dancing shoes,
She looks out towards the stage
Preparing for another fantastic performance
That'll leave everyone applauding,

Cheering for a poser,
A liar,
A fake.

She spins and twirls gracefully,
Each movement manipulated so she can avoid
The oceans of sorrow drowning her slowly
The flames of jealously burning her relentless.

How is it possible that fire and water
Have teamed together to cause this distress?
Has life just turned this far against her
That dueling elements drop their quarrels
Just to cause her this?

Dangling and dancing,
Beautiful puppet
All dolled up in her finery...

Performing her dance of lies...

Reading a poem of deceit...

Never will they know her true feelings.

She's just acting,
And it's all for the show.

Story Piece: Bane of Devastation.

2009-12-20T13:58:00.004-05:00

As I've not gotten this far into The Bane of Devastation quite yet, this story piece will be stored here until I get to where I plan to put it.

Bane of Devastation: We're in This Together, Now

He was walking alone towards the docks, his hands buried deep in his pockets. His eyes were directed downward, watching his feet as they trudged along the ground. He was tired and a little bit buzzed from having spent the evening at the inn, and his focus was on everything but his surroundings. Well, no. They were on the mysterious person that kept raiding his ship at night. He had turned the woman into the authorities when he finally captured her in his trap, but he wasn't convinced that they could keep her. She was small, yes, but she was strong and vicious. She had threatened him with swords on more than one occasion and had easily broken away anytime he put his hands on her. She was like a serpent -- slippery and deadly.

But also intriguing. But he knew better than to play with a serpent, so he decided to stop thinking about it. He had several trade runs to make in the morning, else his boss would be upset. Although it was strange that his boss would be upset with him -- he was, after all, the best trader they had. He always made it before or right on time, having absolutely no tardies to his name. His only problem was lately that strange woman had been raiding some of his hold...

There I go thinking about her again, he thought to himself, shaking his head as if he could toss the thoughts out of his head. Is it possible that I have a...

"No," he said aloud. "Impossible." Surely he didn't have a puppy-love crush on that venomous vixen. Besides that, he already had a woman to call his own. A control freak of a woman who insisted on knowing where he went every time he left for sea. An extremely possessive woman who yelled and screamed and threw things at him if he ever came home late. He rolled up one of his sleeves and gingerly touched the large scrape on his forearm. She had caused that, he thought to himself with a scowl crossing his weary face.

"You're never here when I say you should be," she had screamed. "You're lucky that I love you, else you wouldn't have a bed to call your own at night!"

He blinked slowly, robotically. He knew that was meant to be a threat, but it... it just wasn't. She had grabbed a vase and threw it at him with a great violence, and he had brought his arms up to his face defensively. The vase struck his arms and shattered, a large piece of shrapnel causing the scrape that he was now slowly rubbing. He had remembered looking at her with a confused and wounded expression as he gripped the bleeding wound, but she had pointed to the door and insisted he find another place to stay that night. And he had pathetically submitted and did as he was told, sleeping on a ship and crawling back to her the next day, begging for forgiveness.

But why? Was he just that afraid of being alone in the world? So terrified of singlehood that he allowed himself to be continuously abused by someone that his heart resented? His gentle eyes looked down at the ground again and threatened to water, and he growled at himself quietly for his weakness.

He didn't have long to dwell. A faint sound hit his ears, and he immediately jerked his head up and looked around. It was a strange sound -- a creaking, cracking noise. He couldn't say he'd ever heard such a thing before. He blinked when he realized the nighttime world around him had become strangely hazy, the air coated with a thick, heavy fog that held a very strange hue. It was a dark blackish red haze that felt nearly hot on his skin. His eyes widened with terror as he became aware of what was going on. He began running now, trying desperately to get to the safety of his ship as the cracking and creaking grew louder in his ears.

As he arrived to the docks a shadow leapt down before him, causing him to yelp and scramble backwards. He was greeted by a pair of hovering blue flames. His own eyes widened even more as he stumbled backwards and fell to the ground. The flames entered the light of a torch, revealing the flames to be in the empty eye sockets of a six-foot tall skeleton wielding a rusty, bloodied long sword. The skeleton looked down at him and smiled wickedly with its fiery eyes, slowly moving its skinless arm to point its blade at him.

His heart was racing so fast he was afraid it was about to explode. He dug his nails into the ground and scrambled backwards even faster, hearing nothing but the heavy pounding of his terrified heart in his ears. His breath was so shallow it was as if he were getting no oxygen at all -- he was strangling himself with his own fear.

The skeleton spoke in a dark, twisted, warbling voice. "Perhaps ye know where the Medallion is?"

"I... I know... no-nothing," the young man stammered in response, still clawing his way backwards. He suddenly bumped into something and looked up to see another skeleton looking down at him with the same dead, fiery eyes.

"Then we have no use for ye," the second skeleton spoke simply, "except for a new recruit."

The young man closed his eyes tight and attempted to curl up, but found bony, clawlike nails digging into his throat. He found himself effortlessly thrust upward to his feet. The claws dug in, and he felt his pulse vibrating against the bones that held him. He swore he felt himself bleeding.

Suddenly a dagger flew through the haze and sheared the bony arm of the young man's captor off. He fell to his knees clutching his throat, afraid he may be bleeding. His eyes darted around frantically, looking for who had come to his aid. He spied a rather small figure draped in a black cloak standing up in the trees nearby.

Could it be...?

The figure jumped down from the trees and stood wordlessly where it landed a few yards away. The skeletons turned towards it, abandoning their harrassment of the frightened young man.

"Who are ye?" One of the skeletons asked in an ominous voice.

The figure took a few steps forward towards the skeletons, still saying nothing. He wondered if he were maybe having some kind of alcohol-induced nightmare and he would soon awaken in his bed, shaking with fright but laughing at himself for being so afraid of his imagination. He had let go of his throat and was simply sitting on the ground, watching the scene unfold.

"We'll ask again," the second skeleton threatened. "Who are ye?"

The cloaked figure suddenly extended its left arm, a strange purple glow emanating from its palm.

He leaned forward a little, curious as to what he was seeing. He knew magic didn't exist... so how was that person creating that light? An alchemy trick? Furthermore, was that person a friend or foe? Perhaps he should get to his feet and run away.

The cloaked figure suddenly tossed the purple light into the air and caught it, its whole body suddenly erupting into a great amethyst flame. The figure reached to its side and grabbed what looked like a saber. Suddenly the blade of the saber transformed into a grand purple flame. His eyes were wide with shock. Was that figure a... demon?

The figure leapt forward, firing a small orb of purple light at one of the skeletons. Immediately the skeleton began to contract, quake, and pulsate in a manner that was both frightening and morbidly curious. Suddenly it exploded into a million bone shards, all except for its skull. The cloaked figure grabbed the skull and held it out for the other skeleton to see.

"You're next," the figure spoke to the other skeleton in a voice that was feminine... and strangely familiar to the young man.

"Ye saved us the trouble of tracking ye down," the other skeleton replied in a strange air of calmness. "Surrender the Medallion an' perhaps ye'll be spared."

The figure scoffed, launching forward with its amethyst-colored flame sword drawn. It crossed blades with the skeleton, and a fierce swordfight ensued. The young man watched in awe and shock, still not quite sure he was fully awake. He slowly rose to his feet yet didn't retreat into the night as he had planned. It seemed the cloaked figure was on his side.

The skeleton's sword was knocked away from it, and the cloaked figure stepped forward ominously, its left hand alight with a purple light. "Now to send you back to the hell from whence you came," the cloaked figure spoke gently. It launched another ball of light from its hand, firing directly towards the skeleton.

The skeleton, instead of curling up defensively, grabbed the young man and turned him into a human shield. The blast of purple light slammed into the frightened human, turning his vision completely purple. He suddenly felt as if he were levitating above the ground, and, to his distress, discovered that he was. The cloaked figure was looking up at him, as was the skeleton. His body felt a great force causing him to quiver and pulsate horridly, and he wondered if he were about to explode like the first skeleton had. Suddenly there was a feeling as if something were reaching through his chest and his ribs, clutching his heart with a horrible violence. His eyes began to roll backwards and he felt his life ebbing away. But as quickly as that feeling came, he felt a great surge of strength and energy rush into his body. His hands were suddenly alight with the same purple flames as the cloaked figure.

The skeleton had turned its attention away from the levitating young man and instead launched a vicious assault on the cloaked figure, knocking it to the ground. It grabbed one of the figure's daggers and held it up above its head, preparing to strike the final blow.

The young man stared at his hands. He looked at the skeleton, seeing it suddenly as a blue-colored object. The cloaked figure was a dark purple, and the rest of the world was simply grey. For a reason he wasn't sure of, he could sense that purple-colored objects were allies and blue-colored objects were enemies. Something very strange had just occurred to him, and he had a feeling that his life would never be the same. His heart and mind were telling him he had to do something to save the cloaked figure. He looked back at his hands and yelped softly as a purple orb of light formed in the palm of his right hand. He stared at the skeleton, his eyes wide as it was beginning to slash the dagger downward.

The young man growled softly to himself and involuntarily threw his right hand forward, launching the orb at the skeleton. His eyes widened as his strike made contact and the skeleton stumbled backwards, quaking and pulsating in that sickly curious manner as the first one had. It exploded into shards, all for the skull. The skull launched itself at the young man, who found himself catching it despite himself. He slowly lowered back to the ground and his vision returned to its normal state. A great surge of strength rushed out of his body, and he felt light-headed and weak. He stumbled and staggered, falling to his knees.

The cloaked figure easily caught him before he made it that far. The figure very gently lowered him to a sitting position on the ground and sat in front of him, gently stroking the side of his face with its hand. Despite his uncertainty of this person's intentions, he felt comforted and leaned his face somewhat against the figure's hand.

"Are you okay?" The figure asked. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to strike you."

"Who... who are you?" He asked instead.

The figure grabbed the hood of its cloak and removed it. A pair of large but gentle dark green eyes met his own blue ones. The face was small, pale, and its features were delicate. The hair was long, pulled back into a ponytail, and was the color of blood. He recognized her as the woman from his ship.

"You... it... it's you," he gasped, pointing a trembling finger at her. "From... from my... my ship."

She gently placed a finger against his lips, quieting him. "Shh. You're weak."

He turned his head away, not done talking. "Who... are you?"

"My name is Luca," she said, finally introducing herself. "You are?"

"Phil," he replied. "Why were... why were you... always stealing stuff..."

Luca smiled at him. "Hush, Phil. You need to rest and regain your strength." She rose to her feet, offering her hand to him. "Where do you call home? I'll help you get there."

He weakly looked up at her. The woman who had been so nasty and mean to him had such a strong change of heart. What did she want? "Why... are you... are you being so... nice... to me?"

"Because, Phil," her smile turned into a sad expression. "We're in this together now."

"In what?"

"I'll explain it when you've recovered," she explained. "To say the least, Phil... you're a miracle."

"Why?"

"I already told you -- I'll explain when you're better." She reached her hand toward him again. "Come on. Let's get you somewhere safe so you can rest."

He looked at her hand and then at her. Something told him to trust her. Weakly, he nodded his head and took her hand, awkwardly rising to his feet. He was unsteady and woozy, hardly able to stand on his own. Luca gently wrapped an arm around his waist -- she was significantly shorter than he -- and held onto him tightly. Despite himself, he found himself leaning against her.

"Thank you," he murmured weakly.

"No problem," she replied. "Remember. We're in this together now."

He was quiet a moment, and then nodded again. "You're right, Luca. We are."

Slowly and carefully, the two made their way towards the ship Phil was planning to spend his night on.

A Depressed Vent.

2009-12-20T01:36:00.002-05:00

Sometimes I feel so alone in the world.

I'm always the third wheel in social gatherings. That damn, damn awkward third wheel. The one no one wants to be. That's me.

When I hear my sister go on about how her friends and her are all so tight... that they call themselves a family...

When I hear my boyfriend go on about his friends and all their escapades and fun times...

I smile and I laugh at their stories, and I feel glad that they have such happy times in their lives.

But at the same time, I hurt inside. It feels like another dagger gets pushed into my heart, and another piece of my soul seems to die. I feel... so alone.

Sometimes I just want to scream, "Shut up! How can you be so insensitive!"

And then I realize it's not their fault. It's mine. But then again, I can't make my own friends. My friends either turn around and desert me, stab me in the back, or otherwise don't care for me unless it benefits them. It's not like I don't try... I just always end up alone in the end. The "friends" I have are people I know through my sister or my boyfriend, and those "friends" don't give me the time of day unless either my sister or my boyfriend are present. The rest of the time? I'm nobody. I don't exist. I don't count as a person.

I guess being alone was always how I was intended to be.

Tonight I watched my sister flirting with a crush of hers. And watched him flirt back. And I felt vulgar for being there... as if I didn't belong. While we were all out, I hung back a few feet and found myself completely ignored. Completely unneeded. I kinda stared down at my shoes and decided to put on the pseudo-hyper Dani act, not wanting anyone to notice that I knew I didn't belong.

I don't feel needed, whether it's my sister or my boyfriend. Both of them have other people they can turn to if they don't want to tolerate me. Who do I have when I wind up in the same situation?

...Myself, and that's it.

My boyfriend had something wrong with him tonight, and he absolutely refused to tell me what it was. I guess I wasn't worthy of knowing. When I pressed for an answer, he simply disappeared. I came home and, upon realizing this, wanted to cry. Instead I threw myself into emotional eating until I was nearly sick to my stomach, and then I decided I needed a distraction. Asked my sister if she wanted to go buy a present for our dad together.

But it's hard to spend time with someone who is always texting other people at the same time.

My sister and her friends are planning to throw a "formal" gathering sometime soon. Apparently they're planning to invite dates. If it winds up where people are bringing dates, I'm refusing to go. I'd rather be alone without having a roomful of people reminding me just how fucking alone I really am. The very concept of having to sit there and put on a fake happy face and pretend I don't feel lonely... that I don't hurt... it shatters me in a way I didn't expect it would.

I had to leave my sister and claim I was tired so I could come lay in my bed and cry. And cry I have throughout this entire entry. And I will probably continue the tears until I have cried myself into an awkward sleep.

Sometimes I wish I could be the one with people always texting me, like my sister is. Sometimes I wish I could be the one everyone wants to spend time with, like my boyfriend is. Sometimes I wish I wasn't simply a "package deal" with someone else. I understand that the gesture is to keep me from feeling left out, but in the end it feels like I'm getting nothing but pity invites and pity "friends." You know, pity invites because whoever I'm "packaged" with doesn't want me to feel completely left out; so-called friends who only get to "know" me because my "package partner" forces them to do so.

What's wrong with me? Why don't people want to spend time with me? Why don't people text me at random times? Why don't people fall at my feet, begging me to do stuff with them? Am I not important... am I not special?

I don't feel loved. I say "I love you" to people and they don't care to reply.

I don't feel wanted. I'm expendable. If something or someone more fun comes around, I can simply be pushed to the back burner. After all, my life revolves around waiting for people to notice me, so I'll always be around. Pathetically waiting like some kind of lost puppy.

I don't feel needed. I'm replacable. I've woken up several times to find plans that I thought were meant to go one way being cancelled or changed without my knowledge... I guess because my opinion truly doesn't count. Maybe this is something I just need to accept.

I want to feel loved. I want to feel wanted. I want to feel needed. I want to feel special. I want to feel worth something. For once I want to be someone's main priority, not just an after-thought.

I feel so alone in the world lately, and everything about me is in ruins. I used to think I was strong and resilient... that I could tolerate a high amount of pain...

But I've either grown weak, or I've taken too much. The pain in my heart and soul has become so immense that I'm slowly losing my spark for life. I'm slowly slipping into a state of daylong naps just so I don't have to deal with myself... And so others don't have to worry about pity-inviting me along to places. They have better things to do with their time than focus on me.

I'm going to crawl back into my lonely little hole. It seems that this barren little wasteland is the only place I belong in the world.

Kind of sucks, but I guess someone had to be alone.

Too bad it has to be me.

No matter how you look at it, I'm alone.

But at least it's me that's suffering and not someone I care for.

There's always that, I suppose.

Consider Me Gone.

2009-11-29T21:31:00.003-05:00

I won't come around again.

You depress me with your silence.

You break my heart with your lack of concern or consideration.

I feel like an idiot for spending the weekend wondering what I did to you. You've got no further interest in me and my life -- your silence and distance tells the truth, even when you're unwilling.

I feel stupid for nearly texting you over the night when I was suffering all that pain. It's obvious that you don't care. I promise you won't be receiving anymore updates about my health in the future. Even if I wind up going to the emergency room, dying on the floor... there will be no more updates. I'll stop wasting your time and my money with an unnecessary effort.

I'm the world's biggest idiot because I let myself become convinced everything is my fault and that I'm the one to blame. Well, goddamnit, I'm not falling for the crap anymore. Everything is NOT my fault, and I'm NOT to blame for everything. I'm tired of apologizing for stuff I shouldn't have to apologize for, and I'm tired of licking and kissing the toes of someone who doesn't give a damn about me and my life.

I'm the world's biggest idiot because I let myself believe you actually cared for me. I see it now -- you don't. The past four days have solidified my fear and given it credibility. If you don't want to care about my life, I won't be around for you to not care about. It's as simple as that. I'll shift my attention towards the people who actually DO care about me; the people who actually DO want me around. People who actually DO worry about my health and well-being. People I DON'T have to apologize to every other day. People who DON'T consider me abusive and nasty.

Fuck it. I'm not letting my heart get stepped on again. Go find yourself another stupid person to emotionally ruin and destroy, because you aren't ruining me ever again.

Consider me gone.

Have a nice life.

For the Last Time.

2009-11-22T20:14:00.003-05:00

Sometimes you can't hold onto things forever.

Especially when your holding on hurts someone else, repeatedly and relentlessly.

It's past the time for me to stop thinking about myself and start thinking about the other people around me. I've been far too selfish for far too long, and it's caused me to cause a massive amount of misery, pain, turmoil, and grief to someone who doesn't deserve it. Well, I've decided that I'm not going to do it anymore. Again. Ever.

I've been immature, thoughtless, cold, abrasive, selfish, and wrong. About everything. And it's all simply because things weren't going my way.

And, to be honest, they probably never will.

As it turns out, I'm the solitary reason that the daily fights ensued. I was always the one starting things, because I just couldn't simply be happy. No, I had to always find something to complain about. Something to be stupidly angry over. Even if I had to pull something out from a day, week, or month ago. I just couldn't be happy. I just couldn't keep my mouth shut. I just couldn't be a good partner.

I couldn't find hobbies that were acceptable. I couldn't make friends that were acceptable. My activities and friends were the source of multitudes of arguments. And then I turned around and couldn't be accepting of his hobbies and friends, and his were better than mine. I let my jealousy and lack of ability to make anything decent out of myself overtake my common sense, and I became hostile and cruel.

I know now that there's a reason he told me that he had more fun with his friends than he did with me... and it's because anyone would be more fun than a selfish, self-centered brat like me. I used to be angry at the statement, but now I see its truthfulness and validity staring me square in the face. And I can't be angry at honesty.

The whole thing boils down to me being in the wrong no matter which way I turned. I was always slamming things in his face, rubbing his nose in mistakes he never made, shoving statements and accusations down his throat. Everything I said I wouldn't do to someone. It's a wonder to me that he didn't just tell me to fuck off and die in a fire, because I would've told someone abusing me so harshly to do just that. And deep down I know I should do just that. Go fuck off and die in a fire.

I sometimes wish I could do just that. Lay in my room and be engulfed in flames. God knows I'd deserve every ounce of pain that I felt. Or maybe I should force myself to face my fear of drowning. I'd deserve every bit of fear that rushed through my body. I should be beaten within an inch of my life, so that maybe I'd suffer enough brain damage that I'd never be able to think clearly enough to start a fight ever again. So that all I could do was lay in a bed, wasting space like the horrible failure I truly am. Wasting away in a hospital somewhere, locked away from the world so that I can't cause anymore grief. If only I could.

The fact of the matter is, I am incapable of love. I'm incapable of being a good, loving, caring, selfless partner. I'm selfish and refused to give up the source of all the fighting. I allowed my greed to overwhelm me. I thought I could have it all, and now I'm having to see that I can't. And I won't.

So I apologize to him, for all of the turmoil I put him through. All the times I hurt him. All the times I brought him near or to tears. All the times that I verbally assaulted him unprovoked and just because I felt like it. I apologize to him that I was so jealous and greedy for his time that I couldn't make myself like a single thing he did that didn't or couldn't involve me. I knew that if I ever were to produce an ultimatum: pick your hobbies or pick me... I wouldn't be chosen. Well now I'm going to make it so that he doesn't have to choose. He can keep his hobbies, his friends, and his life. He deserves to. He deserves to be happy.

He'll never have to worry about me starting another fight with him for no reason. He'll never have to fear me again. He'll never have to waste his time, energy, and life on me ever again. He can have all the fun he wants and rightfully deserves, and he'll never have to be burdened with the thought that I'm lurking in the shadows, waiting to ruin his day. Because that's all I ever did. His friends won't have to hear about the constant abuse he suffered at the hands of the person who was supposed to protect and respect him. They won't have to hate me -- they can laugh about how stupid I was instead. They can all celebrate my exit from the picture.

I've ruined his life for the last time.

Another Post That'll Go Unread.

2009-11-13T12:13:00.002-05:00

Here I go again, writing up something that won't be read by anyone but me. Oh well, at least I'm getting it off my chest.

Today I get to debut my makeover to my family. And while there's a slight bit of excitement brewing in me, there's also a bit of resentment boiling about as well. It's a very crushing blow to one's ego when you get excited about showing somebody something and they either (1) tell you they care and then really don't, (2) get your hopes up that they're as pleased about it as you are and then crash you down, or (3) continuously create reasons as to not bother seeing it. Self-esteem gets knocked down another level, yay.

I did invest a lot of time, money, and energy in this entire thing... and it's been a big upset that my enthusiasm was so squashed. I guess this is why I should never get excited about anything... lesson learned.

Another thing I need to do is take a permanent vow of silence, and just never speak again. Apparently I can't say anything without upsetting somebody, and I'm tired of all the drama that comes with me opening my face. I seriously need to surgically detach my foot and shove it down my throat and sew my mouth shut, because that's all I ever seem to do.

I also need to learn to let things go. It's difficult to hold a conversation with someone the morning after a fight for me. Mainly because I'm selfish and mean and want that person to suffer for hurting or upsetting me. I want them to know that I've been wounded and that I'm angry over it. I've learned to stop waiting for apologies because they never come and it winds up becoming another disappointment on an ever-expanding list. Then again, maybe I don't deserve the respect of an apology... I apparently don't deserve the respect of a mature, adult conversation that settles the dispute and closes the case, so to speak, so why should I think I deserve any apologies, either? If I'd get a conversation (that I DON'T have to instigate myself) or an apology, I'd be more willing to let go of grudges and move on. But since I never get either, I hold on to every petty thing. I guess I'm a true female after all.

But here's something that I don't understand. (And probably never will.) I wind up being left behind. A lot. And apparently I'm not meant to have someone to go to when I begin to get lonely. Apparently I'm meant to be deserted and meant to tolerate the isolation and loneliness on my own, and then sit there and listen to all the great, fun times that I miss out on. And apparently I'm meant to smile and enjoy every minute of it.

Instead, I have broken the rule. I have a best friend that I spend a lot of time with. A best friend who calls me every single day, without me ever having to ask, beg, or otherwise plead. A best friend who, while he annoys the living crap out of me, genuinely cares about me and genuinely wants to spend time with me. A best friend who actually enjoys some of the same hobbies that I do (video games and idiotic YouTube videos). A best friend who has a lot of inside jokes with me because of all the amounts of time we spend together. A best friend who actually notices when I'm not around, and misses me (and isn't ashamed to tell me so!). A best friend who actually makes me feel like I'm worth something.

Yes, I am very close to him -- we were a "couple" for a while at one point in time. Yes, I love him dearly and would hate it if anything were to happen to him. Yes, I don't know what I'd do with myself if I ever lost him. Yes, I talk about him a lot -- but not anywhere near as much as I could. Why do I talk about him so much? Because he and I spend time together. Quality time together where we both are paying equal attention to each other rather than me being drowned out in thirty-thousand other conversations and activities. I talk a lot about anyone who I spend a ton of time with... it's just how I am. Is it sad that I talk more about my best friend than my own boyfriend? Yes, it really is. But you know what... there's nothing I can do about it.

I'm sorry that I naturally gravitate towards people who actually want to give me time and attention.

...

Actually, no. I'm not sorry about it. I shouldn't have to apologize for finding another outlet to fulfill a need of mine that would otherwise go neglected if I didn't. So no. I'm not going to apologize about it.

As sad (and harsh) as it sounds, if I had to choose between the two, I would probably choose my best friend. Not because I feel a romantic attraction to him (I consider him as a brother), but because I know that if I chose against him, I'd spend a lot of time alone... and I'm not a solitary person. I would rather be single and have a best friend who loves to spend time with me than ever be in a relationship where I was constantly left behind and then forced to listen to retellings of "amazingly awesome and fun!" things that I'm not a part of. If I didn't have my best friend, I'd lose my mind.

I'm tired of feeling like the bad guy for spending my time with someone who actually cares and wants to spend time with me. I really am.

2009-11-08T20:45:00.000-05:00

I love it when people show their true colors. Especially when it opens my eyes and shows that I've been falling for a lie.

I also love it when people turn into fucking cowards and run away. How pathetic, can't even man up and hold a conversation? Instead you gotta run away and hide under your silly little covers like that's going to make it all go away? Lemme tell you something, little kid: It don't fucking work that way with me.

I fucking hate the Ostrich Theory. "Oh, if I stick my head up my ass and ignore the whole situation, then it'll go away." Uh, no. It doesn't fucking work that way. You wanna stick your head in the sand and ignore me because what I have to say isn't what you want to hear at the time, yet you expect me to give you all the attention in the world when something's bothering you? Let me break this to you, too, because apparently you're wearing some seriously rose-tinted glasses: The. World. Does. NOT. Revolve. Around. You.

And if you're expecting me to cater to a selfish little child, think the fuck again. I'm looking for an equal partnership, I'm not looking to babysit an immature, selfish, tempermental child. If I wanted to babysit a child, I'd go work at a fucking daycare. You know, where little children are supposed to be. You think you're grown up -- Grown ups don't fucking run away from a discussion. Grown ups don't put their fingers in their ears and scream "Lalalala!" until the other person gets tired of it and gives up trying. Grown ups actually have an actual interest in the lives of their partners... that, or they admit to that person that things are done and they don't give a shit. Which one are you? If you don't give a shit anymore then fucking tell me to my face so I'll back the fuck off and stop wasting my breath revealing my hopes and dreams to a goddamn brick wall. Okay? Thanks.

You know what I have a knack for? Finding selfish workaholics who could honestly care less what I have to say or how I feel at any given time. People who simply want me around when it's convenient for them and wouldn't care less if I fell off the fucking planet the rest of the time. In fact, they'd probably like it if I fell off the face of the earth because then they wouldn't have to sacrifice any of their precious time on me. And what's so fucking hilarious to me is that when I finally get tired of their shit and actually start to grow a spine and decide I want to find something better, they whine and cry and pitch their little baby fits of "Please don't go, I love you!"

...Love? This is how you show love? Wow, I'd hate to see how you show your hatred.

You know what I also have? Staircase Syndrome. I admit it. I let people take advantage of me, emotionally rape the shit out of me on a daily basis, beat me down mentally/emotionally, and otherwise manipulate me into staying trapped in a situation that's ultimate going to destroy my self-esteem, self-respect, and self-confidence. I try so fucking hard to make everyone happy that I'm essentially going to commit emotional suicide. I've already committed mental suicide, having to force myself to "dumb down" for the benefit of people who can't understand my supposedly "advanced" vocabulary and logic... Apparently killing myself emotionally isn't going to be any big loss to anyone, either. I should've guessed that my emotions never meant shit to anyone. I was such an idiot for ever falling for that lie. Nobody's going to care about me except for myself and my family.
But whatever.

What sucks about me is how badly I've let all of this get to me. I relapsed back into getting stoned "recreationally" because it's the only thing that makes me forget about this horrible misery I put up with. I get so angry and/or depressed at the end of each evening, after another stupid round of fighting, that I resort to blasting my brains out with medications so I don't have to feel like shit all night. So I won't cry again. So I won't get tempted to hang myself by the throat with a fucking headset cord. So I won't punch the walls until my knuckles bleed. So I won't scream and sob into a pillow until I suffocate into unconsciousness. I don't go around getting blasted because it's fun... I go around getting blasted because it numbs the heartache and pain I suffer on a daily fucking basis.

Heartache and pain that comes from catering to the whims of someone who probably wouldn't know how to react if he was ever treated the way he treats me. Then again, he'd probably just fucking run away if I ever tried. But what can you do... there isn't any point trying to help a coward who refuses to see that he's wrong.

You know how I see it? You want to go around doing dangerous shit and not care that I don't like it -- fine. I'm going to go around doing dangerous shit and not care that you don't like it as well. Fair is fair... get over it.

And if you can't get over it... you know where the door is. I'm not going to change my ways because it's more than obvious that you aren't going to change yours. Relationships are fucking compromise -- give and take -- and you're NOT willing to play. So I officially refuse to play, too.

All I wanted was for you to actually show an interest in my life. Even if you fucking faked it for my benefit. But nope. You couldn't be assed. It was apparently far too much work for you to bother doing. So instead you shoved another dagger in my heart and twisted it around. I hope that you enjoy twisting those daggers around, I really do. But don't think that you're going to get to get away with it forever... because, whether you've bothered to notice it or not, I'm rapidly getting tired of trying to get through to you. Apparently you don't want anyone to get through to you, and I oughta just give up.

Don't ever expect me to tell you about my dreams ever again. Don't ever expect me to ask for your opinion on any decisions I've been mulling over -- in fact, don't ever expect me to go so far as to even fucking mentioning them ever again. Don't ever expect me to tell you about my day anymore. I'm not going to waste my energy and your precious and valuable time on something so worthless and boring to you. So do yourself a happy little victory dance...

You won! Congratulations! Go out and celebrate with all your friends -- apparently you have more fun with them than you do me, anyway! You even said that yourself, to my face!

(So don't even dare try to deny that you did.)

Go out and spend your time with the people you actually give a shit about, because you sure as hell don't give a shit about me. Actually, no, I take that back -- you give half a shit about me when it's convenient for you. When you're bored and apparently your real friends aren't around... only then am I worth something to you. And even then you can't even part from your precious other hobbies long enough to talk to me.

I really have to ask: Why do you bother keeping me around? You obviously have much better things to do with your life. You obviously don't need me -- and barely seem to want me -- so why bother?

The funny thing is... if I were to disappear tomorrow, it wouldn't affect you. You'd still go out with your friends and have a kickass time doing whatever the fuck it is you and your more-important friends do. You wouldn't even bother wasting the time thinking about me. You like to tell me that it would bother you immensely and tragically depress you... but it wouldn't be immense or tragic enough to ever tear you away from your social affairs. Yeah, that's definitely proving how much I mean to you. But you know what? That's okay. That's absolutely okay. Who am I to tear someone away from their real love? I know I'm just a fake love... it's taken a lot of time to come to grips with that fact, but I finally have. I'm just a fake love. Probably a temporary one, too. But hey... I don't have to be worth anything to anybody. I'm fine being a complete waste of space... I spent my entire teenage life as one... why should I ever think it would change now that I'm 21?

Anyway, enjoy your victory celebration. You finally managed to make me realize I need to shut up about my life -- my hopes, dreams, aspirations, desires, etc. You finally got the bitch to shut her mouth.

Congratulations -- You broke the spirit that I thought was unbreakable. Way to go... you definitely should be patting yourself on the back right now. You managed to do the impossible.

Congratulations on a job well done.

My White Flag.

2009-10-29T20:13:00.003-04:00

I surrender.

I should never have expected a serious discussion to occur. Once again I find myself being given another promise that wasn't kept. I'm going to get another excuse in return. Or I'll be given nothing. Fucking ostrich theory.

Goddamn this. Goddamn this all.

I'm taking what's left of my sanity, my dignity, and my heart. I'm taking it, locking it away, and never giving it away ever again. Fuck this, having my heart stomped on and broken on a repeated basis. Fuck it.

This is my white flag.

I'm done.

Trying to Gather My Thoughts.

2009-10-29T15:41:00.003-04:00

So it seems that the latest belief is that I can turn off my feelings whenever I want. Apparently, the latest story is that I don't want you around.

How backwards.

If I recall correctly, I'm the one always begging for more time together. Please correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm usually the one who cries over the lack of time we spend together. It strikes me as a little odd -- and rather hurtful, actually -- that I would be accused of being the one who wants the distance.

Yes, it was true that I wanted my distance over the weekend. I was angry over the weekend at having been left alone for an entire week. I was angry and I didn't want to have anything to do with you then because I wanted you to know I was upset. What I'm getting out of all of this is that I'm not allowed to be angry... that if I'm angry, I immediately have left you for dead.

If only it were that easy.

The truth of the matter is, I have no control over my feelings. If they decide I want to be upset, then I'll be upset. If they decide I'm going to boil over and erupt, then that's what'll happen. However, the one thing I know for sure about my feelings is that they take longer than a week for me to change my opinion on a situation. And I've had months of feeling dejected, ignored, and otherwise isolated to motivate me to change my way. Remember when I was the one always trying to get you to say "I love you" to me, and how you brushed my feelings off? How you absolutely refused to say it back?

It hurts when the one you love rejects you, doesn't it? Maybe now you understand a little bit better.

I've watched these tides turn for months now. Anytime we're together it's nothing but a ticking time bomb to see who explodes first. Who deals the first blow. Who can hurt the other one the hardest; who can make the other one angry/frustrated/upset enough to cry first. And there's no way you'll ever convince me that a happy partnership runs this way... I'll never believe it. Sure, we have a day or two where things are great and fun, like they used to be...

But I've said it before and I'll say it again: One or two days of contentment do not make up for five or six days of hurt and anger.

Another thing that has irked me is how everyone is so willing to tell me that I can't make a single decision on my own. I'm sorry, I mean a single right decision on my own. Everyone is convinced that my decisions are immediately wrong, especially when my decisions don't fit what any given person wants out of me. So what have I become -- some kind of puppet who has to please everyone but herself? When will any of my decisions be "good" or "right," when I give up my free will and free thinking just to shut up the masses? Is that what everyone wants out of me, to be a mindless follower? I hate to break it to you, but that gets very old, very fast.

So yesterday I made the decision to get back on my medications. Yesterday I went out and bought some clothes that actually fit. Apparently me making a few positive changes for myself has delivered the message of "Go the hell away."

Uh? Confused I am.

I was wearing clothes that were two sizes too big and were practically trying to fall off me. I wanted to get some clothes that actually flattered the figure I'm attempting to have for the first time in my entire life. I'm a female... I'm supposed to want to show off my figure. And when I finally have this epiphany, and I finally start behaving like an actual girl... I'm moving on? Please, please explain the logic to me, because no matter how many times I've pondered over this I just can't make myself understand.

Besides this, if I had moved on like you're so willing to believe I have, I wouldn't be wasting my time with this entry. I wouldn't be bothering to talk to you when you beckon. You would know that I moved on. And it strikes a nerve, a pet peeve of mine if you will, that you are so readily willing and able to accuse me of this. One of my biggest pet peeves is having someone putting words in my mouth, and you've not only put words down my throat, but you've also tried to impress feelings on me as well. A word to the wise: I highly recommend that that behavior comes to an end, quickly.

So let me ask you a set of questions...

1. If I continuously disappeared without letting you know where I was going and for how long, how long would you put up with it before you grew tired of it?

2. If I made frequent promises that I wound up not keeping, how long would you tolerate it before you began to think I didn't care about your feelings?

3. If I said one thing and then turned around and did something completely contradictory to that statement, wouldn't you doubt my words?

4. If you were having a bad day and were lonely as hell, and I randomly popped in for a brief moment just to brag about how awesome my day was, and how much fun I was having with other people, knowing that I had left you alone for an extended period of time, wouldn't you be offended, hurt, and angry at me?

You need a big dose of "put yourself in someone else's shoes for a while." I'm going to turn around and put words/feelings on you -- I honestly don't think you understand just how much of an impact your actions have on other people. I really do think you need to spend some time on the receiving end of the spectrum -- the same end of the spectrum that I've been living on for the past few months. You need to get a huge dose of seeing things through someone else's eyes... you need a huge dose of feeling things through other people's heart. And while I've tried so many times to give you that experience, you've resisted me all the way... is it any wonder I've given up?

I don't think your priorities are straight... and I think you need to step back and take the time to evaluate yourself and your priorities... I think you need to take some time to figure out what you really want out of life. Not just for the distant future, but for the present and near future. I've tried to be patient and wait for you to straighten things out, but either (1) you're not going to bother sitting back and taking a closer look at things or (2) you've made up your mind already about what's more important to you and I don't register on the list.

And maybe the only way you'll take that time is if I leave. You've already established that you're afraid of me and you've never tried to convince me otherwise when I've come to the conclusion that I'm abusive... so apparently it's all true and apparently I'm skewing your outlook on things. Maybe I need to just leave and let you work things out for yourself... maybe I shouldn't bother you again until you come to me and tell me that you know for sure what you want from life.

It's a little amusing to me how I always wind up with the same kind of person: A workaholic who, after spending the entire day away, either stuffs himself into a game and ignores me, or simply goes to sleep. Every single person I've been with has been this way. He's always got somewhere better to be than with me; he's always got someone else to share his spare time with. And if he doesn't care to go out, he'll just get sucked into some sort of game and forget I exist. And then when he's done playing the game, he might chat me up for the 20 minutes he's awake before he passes out for the night. Yeah, it does wonders for the self-esteem.

Is it any wonder that I spend a lot of time with another friend of mine? I affectionately call him my "tormentor" because of the fact he spends so much time picking on me. He [tries to] keep me awake all night because he actually wants to spend time with me. We spend all kinds of time watching each other play video games (picking on each other when one of us does something stupid on said game), watching animes or stupid videos on YouTube... We spend all our time trying to annoy the hell out of each other. I never have to ask or beg him to get on Skype -- in fact, it's usually the opposite. I never have to beg him to spend time with me because he already wants to. He doesn't close himself off from me and will tell me if/when something's bothering him.

...It's sad that I can't get any of that from the person that I want it from the most.

Dabbling in Storytime.

2009-10-27T18:47:00.002-04:00

Meh, this story has been running rampant in my mind since Sunday night. I guess it's about time I write it and get it out.

So here it is, my latest short story piece. (It might turn into a two-parter, depends on if I can't get the second part out of mind, either.)

Turning of the Tables

She stared out the large window for quite some time. Though her face bore no visible expression and her body language suggested that her mood was idle, her dark eyes spoke it all. There was no need for her to vocalize what had caused her to turn like this -- to turn into a silent, brooding wreck. She looked slowly down at her hands, which rested on her lap. Long ago had she given up wearing the symbol of her connection, and to her dismay, her subtle hinting went completely unnoticed.

Again.

But, sadly enough, she had gotten used to it. She got used to spending countless hours in this isolated little room, staring out the window and watching the people walking on the street below. Seeing real partnerships and real connections... nothing at all like what her own relationship had become. It was the same thing every day. The abandonment started early -- she almost always woke up alone in the bed she was meant to share with him. He used to leave notes telling her where he was off to and an estimate of when he might possibly be back... but not anymore. Not that she needed the notes -- she knew where he went.

He loved to lock himself away in various activities involving the politics and government, telling her quite simply, "You wouldn't be interested" and never once allowing her access into these top-secret meetings that were held in a large room one floor below her. And most of the time these meetings would run far past nightfall and nearly to midnight. Sometimes after the meetings would adjourn for the day, he'd gather up his group of friends -- or people he was conversing with in those damned meetings -- and they'd disappear for a night on the town. She'd watched him from her little perch on several occasions, and never once did he think to turn around and come back for her. She contemplated chasing after him and raising a ruckus to try and utterly humiliate him, but always found she couldn't do it.

How strange it was. A little over a year ago, she was a wild child. She spent every day and night struggling for her survival in the forested -- and highly dangerous -- outskirts of the town. She stole to provide for herself and swung a mean sword to protect herself. The only difference between the isolation she suffered then and the isolation she suffered now was that she had given up everything that had made her who she was. Lately she longed to return to the depths of the wilderness -- to give up bothering with the life of a lonely wife... to return back to the uncertainty of running from the world. How did she let herself fall so far, especially for someone who seemed to purposelly spend the majority of his time away from her? It was shameful.

She blinked once, slowly as if lost deep in thought, and then her brow furrowed. Suddenly the misery, pain, and anger could be read all over her face. She clenched her fists tight and beat them down hard on the windowsill she had spent the last two hours staring out of. This attracted the attention of a nearby maid, who immediately allowed herself into the room with a look of alarm on her face.

"Is there something the matter?" The maid asked, her eyes darting around furiously looking for signs of trouble.

The woman rose to her feet, staring the poor maid square in the eyes. "I'm fine, thank you." She shoved her way past the maid and started going down the stairs in an abrupt and sudden rush.

"Where are you going!" The maid cried out, almost panicking.

The woman stopped halfway down the stairs, but did not turn to look over her shoulder. "I'm going out," she replied quickly and coolly, her voice suggesting that was all she was going to say and she would erupt if pressed further. With that, she continued her descent down the stairs, turned a corner, and disappeared out of sight.

The maid brought a nervous hand to her mouth as she scrambled to come up with a story. He had given her very concise and stern instructions to keep an eye on his wife -- he knew that it would take more than a mere year to convert his wife from a hardened rogue into a more civilized member of society. He had been quite firm when he told the maid that he better not ever return to find his wife missing -- that there'd better be a good reason for it if it occurred, and even then she should send out a carrier bird with a message immediately following the discovery.

But the maid had simply let her go without so much as a struggle -- without so much as prying the woman's destination out of her. She knew he would be quite upset when he returned from his latest trip, and she spent the next few hours trying to create an alibi.

***

When he walked into the building, his stomach immediately dropped out. Nothing was out of the ordinary and nothing was out of its place, but something deep within told him something had gone terribly awry. He scanned the foyer repeatedly though not seeing a single thing misplaced, spotting movement out of the corner of his eye. It was the maid from earlier, who was trying to sneak past.

"What's wrong?" He asked gently, sensing she was upset.

"I..." She looked down at her hands and wrung them anxiously in her apron. She loved him like her own son and was not about to be dishonest with him. He had taken her in without so much as a single credential to her name, saving her and her family from the depths of poverty.

"Hmm?" He blinked, looking concerned.

"It... it's your wife."

His eyes immediately widened and his disposition changed. "What about her? Where is she?"

He didn't wait for an answer. He sprinted up the stairs towards the library, where he almost always found her when he couldn't find her anywhere else, throwing open the door without so much as a single knock. He immediately spied the desk that she normally sat at, feeling his whole body turn cold as he found nobody there. He whirled back around and looked at the maid, who had decided to follow after him.

"What happened while I was gone?" He pressed, his voice quavering. "Where is she?"

The maid looked down at her hands again.

"Where is she!" He snapped, more frightened than angry. "Did something happen to her? Why didn't you send me a notice?"

"Pl-please, calm down," the maid insisted. "Nothing foul happened here. She left of her own will a short while ago."

He was already starting down the steps. "Where?" He asked again. "And why?"

"I... I'm sorry, but I don't know."

He stopped and spun around, looking distraught and angry. "Why not."

"I'm sorry, sir, but she just wouldn't tell me. I asked repeatedly, but all she told me was that she was going out. She didn't say where to or for how long."

"How long ago was all of this?"

"Three, maybe four hours."

He entered a room that, aside from a sword rack and a long desk, bore nothing. He took a key from his pocket and unlocked one of the desk drawers. To his horrified surprise, it was empty.

"Where's the stone that I keep in here?" He questioned.

"I... I don't know, sir. You've given specific instructions for us not to touch it, so nobody has."

Then she took it when she left, he thought. So now I can't track her life force... she must have done this on purpose.

"Fine," he said to nobody, wandering to the sword rack and pulling a saber from it. He looked to the maid. "I'm going to search for her. Surely with only three or four hours head start, she couldn't have possibly gotten far."

But the dismal fact of the matter was, three or four hours was more than enough time for an experienced rogue like his wife to make quite a bit of distance. He kept trying not to tell himself this -- he began a mantra in his mind.

She'll be back soon. She'll be back soon.

Unfortunately, he couldn't convince himself to be so sure.

***

He arrived at a house hidden beneath a thick layer of vegetation. This was their hidden sanctuary and anytime in the past that she had disappeared, he would find her here. She was moody at times and would lock herself in their bedroom, and he'd have to negotiate with her through the door before she would unlock the door and let him through. He thought back to several of these instances, remembering that almost every time she'd done this to him, the first thing he did when allowed access into the room was immediately proceed to scold her. In hindsight, he was beginning to realize that wasn't the best thing for him to do.

He twisted the doorknob and found it locked. He dug around in his pocket until he found the key for the house -- but it didn't fit. He blinked, more than certain he'd chosen the right one. To be safe, he withdrew all five of the keys in his pocket and tried them all. None of them fit.

He scowled a little, unamused by the situation. He pounded on the door but received no response. Frustrated, he knelt down in front of the key and produced two metal wires from his pocket. One of the things having a thief for a wife taught him was lockpicking skills. He fiddled with the door a few moments before the lock gave way and allowed him access in. What greeted him was startling.

Not a single light was lit in the house. Normally they'd always kept one light burning, primarily because the house was also an animal sanctuary where they kept their thirty-something pets. But there was no stampeding of paws, no wild or excited barking. For a full minute, his breathing slowed to a stop as he glanced around the dark emptiness of the foyer. He finally entered the house and lit one of the lanterns. Nothing was displaced, but he still couldn't get over the fact that the dogs were missing. It sent a chill down him that turned him frigid. He peered out a back window and exhaled in relief when he saw that the dogs were simply out in the back yard.

I'm being paranoid, he thought.

He climbed up the stairs, which were also strangely dark, careful not to step on any of the cats that wrapped themselves around his legs and feet. Something was terribly wrong, and he felt it again. Why were all the lights out? Such a little thing shouldn't bother him so severely, and yet it did. He turned the doorknob to the master bedroom, blinking as it easily swung open. Another dark room. He shined his lantern into the room, finding it too to be completely empty. He walked slowly to the wardrobe and found that nothing had been disturbed -- except for one outfit.

The green and white outfit that they had affectionately nicknamed the "rogue's clothing," was gone... in its place was the beautiful green and blue outfit she had been wearing lately.

Another cold shudder. To be on the safe side, he investigated the rest of the rooms, but his search turned up empty. She had simply vanished into thin air, the only evidence of her disappearance being the changing of her clothing...

Suddenly the darkness felt crushing, and suddenly he felt extremely alone. It was a frightening sense that washed over him like a tidal wave. The changing of her clothing disturbed him immensely -- his wife was a woman of symbolism. Everything she did had a hidden meaning... and lately, he realized, he'd not been paying attention to her signs.

The abrupt leaving... the changing of the locks on the house... the trading in of her finery for her tattered and nearly ruined rogue clothes... the complete lack of telling anyone where she was going... and never offering a return date...

She's gone, he thought, shattering his previous mantra. I've lost her.

A glittering on the desk caught his eye, and he soon wished it hadn't. Sitting on the desk on the outside of the jewelry box that she had kept all of her accessories in was a white gold band with an aquamarine gemstone. He blinked very slowly, hoping that the image would disappear. It did not.

He felt his stomach drop out again. This time, his heart followed.

She really is gone, he thought, feeling the backs of his eyes beginning to burn. He dropped the lantern to the floor, not even caring if it shattered open and set the entire place ablaze. Surely being burned alive couldn't hurt anywhere near as bad as the feelings that had viciously overwhelmed him. He walked over and pick up the ring, brushing his fingers across it while distantly admiring it. He immediately remembered how small and delicate her hands and fingers were.

His movements now became slow and robotic as he placed the ring back down on the desk. He stumbled to the bed that he and her had shared together and sat down on the edge of it. Through blurry eyes, he looked down at the flickering lantern on the floor. He was immediately surrounded by cats, who all piled around their master and rubbed all over him, making weak and futile efforts to console him. He was lost in a sea of sympathetic purrs and curious mews, but he heard none of them. All he could hear was the rhythm of his heart, beating in an awkward rhythm that rocked from slow to fast. It echoed in his ears, and he was certain that during one of those reverberations, he heard it break.

He closed his eyes and thought for a moment. Where would she go? Would she return to the woods to live out her life as a rogue again? Probably not, he decided dismally. It was more than apparent that he had done something terribly wrong, and his punishment was to be that she would not return. She was smart -- she probably knew that if she lingered in the woods, he would spend days trying to find her. She had probably boarded a ferry and left without the intentions of ever returning. Sure, he could spend months searching the world... and his first instinct was to do just that... but she would move around. She had spent so long running from the law that she knew staying in one place was dangerous.

He finally got up and moved a few things around. He wandered back downstairs to the foyer again, glancing over his shoulder one last time at the house he had shared with her before hesitating and extinguishing the lantern. He locked the door, closed his eyes tight, and quickly walked away. The memories were already chasing him, intending on running him down.

***

In the middle of the woods he came across her best friend. She was up in a tree a short ways, stalking the woods for lost passersby from which she could make her nightly earning. When she saw him, she quickly jumped down and ran over to meet him. The second he turned to face her, she saw the blank distance in his eyes.

"What's wrong?" She asked, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. She felt him flinch. He looked off towards the darkness of the night, staring into nowhere. He felt tense and was shaking a bit, and she blinked. She asked again. "What's the matter?"

Wordlessly, he slowly reached into his pocket and withdrew the glittering ring. He outstretched his hand slowly but completely, blinking slow and staring harder into the distance. But his eyes had softened and his resolve was in bits.

Her eyes slowly widened. "Oh no," was all she could say.

With the same silence, he put the ring back in his pocket.

"Are you okay?" She asked after a moment.

He walked over to a tree and sat down, pressing his back hard against it. He stared down at his hands for a moment. And finally, he murmured a gentle, broken response. "No."

She tilted her head sympathetically as he brought his hands to his face and began to quake. Not knowing what else to do, she walked over slowly and brought her arms around him.

Everybody else in the world had seen the coming of the turning of the tables. Everybody but him. He'd been too lost in everything else to see it. He had pushed too hard and too far, had taken everything dear to him for granted, and never dared to see the potential consequences of his actions. And now, alone and in the dead of night, he was forced to see the reality.

He'd never felt so abandoned and alone in his life... and it finally opened his eyes.

It was just that his vision had come four hours too late.

Bedtime Musing.

2009-10-26T21:52:00.002-04:00

Apparently I'm not very good at the Quiet Game.

I know I shouldn't be beckoning nor should I be responding, as it's done no good for anyone involved... and yet something makes me persist. I can't decide if it's just residual attachment or my necessity to be habitual, but something makes me reach out. Unfortunately, none of my efforts at reaching out have done any good... such is the irony of the whole situation. I made an effort tonight and was pushed away, and that's enough of an answer for me -- I really need to back off and let this go. Holding on is not going to do anyone any sort of good.

In the end, what was I supposed to do? I was tired of being left behind. I was tired of feeling like I was continuously being drug through the dirt. I was tired of the squabbling. I was tired of being a source of daily fear. I was tired of being the abuser. So many things built up inside of me and no matter what I tried to do, I could never make anyone understand my side of the story. And it finally all just exploded... and that final explosion ripped me into a million pieces. And right when I needed companionship the most... I was abandoned yet again.

No, I've yet to get over the feeling of abandonment and isolation. The odds are I never will because right when I get over it, I'm left alone again. Why have I allowed myself to fall into such a horrid cycle? How much good does this do to my already fragile psyche and already weak self-esteem?

It shatters them.

I no longer feel important. I no longer feel special. I no longer feel worth the time. No matter how many times someone may say I mean the world to them... if they don't occasionally prove it, it's just a lot of empty words. Empty, painful, hurtful words. Lies almost, as harsh as that sounds. Claiming that I'm so important and then immediately turning your back and leaving me completely alone for a week... that's how you prove my importance? If this is the case, I'd hate to see how you treated people you don't consider important... that's got to be hell.

The fact of the matter is... I'm selfish. I demand a lot of time and get offended when someone dares to split their time between me and something else. Especially when they get distracted by that something else and completely and utterly ignore me (or forget I exist). I require a lot of attention and will get paranoid that I'm not worthy if I don't get the amount I consider enough. And again, if I'm having to compete with other things, I often feel insignificant and unworthy. And lately, all I do is compete with -- and lose to -- other things. I've felt pretty crappy as a result... my whole state of viewing myself has degraded.

But I guess in the end none of these confessionals even matter, because everything has fallen apart anyway. I've been given my answer as to how much I mean. I've been given my answer as to how "important" it is that the whole thing be fixed. Being shunned on multiple occasions has more than told me to shut the hell up and leave it be.

So I will.

Message.

2009-10-25T20:23:00.003-04:00

Releasing the Hold

It's finally time I release this grip
The time has come to let this go
Before I stumble and before I slip...
Before I let this heartbreak show...

So many times that I've been left behind
With days so lonely they drag on forever
Well damn this all, I've made up my mind...
We were never meant to be together.

And so while you're away on another escapade
I'll pack up my belongings and run away
Since you're already busy, my memory will fade
I can't say I'm sorry for not wanting to stay.

I'd suggest that you put yourself in my place
But you'd never allow to sink that low
So how can you possibly look me in the face
And ignore all the pain you've caused to grow?

Or are you so convinced that you are right
That no matter what, you can never cause pain
It must be nice to have such a biased sight
So twisted that you'll never see my disdain...

And I'm no longer expecting you to even try
I'm turning my back and taking my leave
All I have to say to you now is goodbye...
I'll be sure to be gone before the eve.

It's a forceful separation that's been overdue
It's an ending to a story never meant to be.
I can no longer go on simply waiting for you...
It's time for the both of us to be set free.

So I take the knife into my hand's palm
And I grab the cord that's kept us together bound
I shred it in half and maintain my calm
As I turn and walk away without another sound.

If I ever shed a tear because of this death
I'll be sure that you never will know;
If ever I feel the regret of having left...
I'm making sure that to you it never shows.

And so with this message I abandon this place
This is the final result of continuous desertion
I'm releasing my hold and leaving this disgrace
Of all my pointless levels of over-exertion.

2009-10-23T08:18:00.003-04:00

Was going to write a poem here in this entry...

But I'm so far gone that words elude me.

Everything and Nothing.

2009-10-22T19:48:00.002-04:00

I wish I could slip into a coma for the entirety of next week. As it turns out, I will literally be alone... Daddy has informed me he will be gone all week attending classes. I thought I would only be alone emotionally, but now I'm going to be alone physically, too. If I could fall into a hole and die right now, I'd jump down the pit without hesitation. The last time I felt this devastated and torn up was when my great-aunt died a few years ago, and now I have absolutely no one to console me or keep me company.

I guess it's my own fault. These next few days are going to hurt severely, I just know it.

I need to let go of my world. I've held on too tightly and both myself and my world have suffered relentless torture as a result... and I can't do it anymore. To either myself or my world. I care too much about my world and I'm tired of seeing it suffer this anguish. And I won't see it anymore... I refuse to be the reason anything suffers, no matter how attached I am. I'll force myself to break these ties because I know in the end this is what's best... for both of us...

I've turned into an abusive partner who does nothing more than demeans and insults her lover on a regular basis... and that's not right. I can't live with myself being abusive and I can't go on in a partnership where I'm causing so much pain... I can't go on being with someone who is afraid of me. Everybody deserves a chance at happiness in love, and all I'm causing is fear and pain. No more. I refuse to go on hurting someone I love. I can't cope with it anymore... I just can't...

All the misery and sorrow I'm about to feel in this upcoming week...

I deserve every ounce of it.

My only regret is that I prolonged your pain for far too long. With any luck, you'll be able to turn all the misery you felt at my hands into something more beautiful with someone who treats you the way you deserve.

No amount of apologizing will ever make the heartache I've caused you through the course of our partnership right. But do know that with every ounce of life in my body, I'm deeply sorry for all of it.

For now, I return to my lonely little corner of the world, laying alone in the darkness like I rightfully should be.

I'm so, so sorry.

2009-10-20T20:07:00.002-04:00

So what happens when you want to say "stay" but you don't?

Because you know it won't matter if you say it or not...

You wind up feeling a massive part of you torn out violently for starters.

Next, the sudden silence takes you in rapidly and it crushes you hard.

And in the end, you wind up alone and feeling like I do now.

I'm going to take a break from my studying and cry a spell.

I don't want to be alone right now...

And I don't have any other choice.

Thought-Train.

2009-10-18T13:00:00.002-04:00

What do you do when everything's turned wrong and all the signs are telling you to let go before you really hurt yourself?

But what do you do when it involves someone other than you, too?

All negotiations are failing. All talks are breaking apart. Conversations turn to confrontations and discussions turn to drama.

Worse still... I've become exactly the thing I hate.

I've still been lingering on the concept that there's a person out there who is actually afraid of me. Afraid. Of me. Talk about a massive stab to the ego and self-respect categories. After an hourlong talk with Mama about the entire thing, she's practically reaffirmed the nasty concept that has been running through my head for the past two weeks:

You can't salvage the unsalvagable. No amount of trying and retrying can revive something that died a long time ago. She warns that if things continue down the path they're going, the only thing that's going to happen is resentment and hate.

What's troubling is that I think the resentment has already started. There's been a lot of nights lately where I've done a lot of heavy brooding and mental yelling at myself. My dreams are haunted by subtle, symbolic messages that all point to the same thing that everything and everyone else is directing me to. My heart feels perpetually heavy and my moods are practically riding a horrible roller coaster on a daily basis.

Can this really continue? Is it really worth all of this misery, turmoil, drama, and pain? Is it worth the daily throwing of daggers and the constant spitting of venom and poison? Is it worth winning the contest of "I can make you angrier than you can make me?" Is it worth the subtle snarking and the sarcastic sniping? Is it? Is it really?

Because to me, it doesn't seem like it. It sounds more like two people are struggling against their bonds. Struggling to survive imprisonment. Longing for freedom. Praying for a better day.

So what do you do...

And why can't this be easier.

Venting Before Class.

2009-10-16T08:29:00.002-04:00

I should've learned my lesson a few weeks back.

Things aren't going to change.

No matter how much I thought they would, they aren't and they won't.

I should've learned my lesson a few weeks back, and I should've run away. I should've run hard and fast. I should never have looked back. Looking back always trips you up, and I had to learn that lesson the hard way.

So I'm picking myself up and trying to pick the dirt out of the wounds once again, wondering how in the world I could've been so stupid. Why do I wear blinders and refuse to see things for how they really are? Is it that I'm afraid of the truth, or that I just love living a lie? I guess I like spending every day ultimately waiting for the next big disappointment, because lately that's all I do.

I apparently like getting stood up. I'm apparently not worth the time and energy it takes to say, "I'm going to be away for a bit, hold on." I'm definitely not worth keeping one's word to, because I always lay down and let people use me as a goddamn staircase. Step all over me, it doesn't matter if you hurt me, I completely understand now!

I also understand my own feelings, and they're telling me, "Hey idiot, run away before you get hurt again."

Isn't it a touch ironic that I've spent more time talking to people who don't like me as opposed to the person who supposedly loves me? I'd call it sad, but it's my own fault for putting up with it.

I guess it's worth repeating again: I should've learned my lesson a few weeks ago.

I need to find my way out of this hole before I get buried alive.

I don't think feeling like crap on a daily basis is worth it anymore.

I'm sorry, but it isn't.

Mo[u]rning Prose.

2009-10-16T07:47:00.003-04:00

Just another poem.

I honestly don't know why I keep writing them, nobody cares any more.

Oh well. Here it is.

Second Glance

She's sitting in her corner once more
Left to wait once again for her chance
To spend the time with the one she adores...
Such is the pain of being the second glance.

She writes off the loneliness in her eyes
As simply being weakness of her mind
Eyes full of tears and lungs full of sighs
Refusing to see she'll always be left behind.

She goes about her day as an after-thought
You don't have to go out of your way for her
Because she'll come runnning whenever she's sought
She'll always be here, you are so assured.

The loss of importance won't run her away
The feeling of being a shadow, it doesn't hurt
You're so convinced that she'll always stay
So it's okay to drag her feelings through the dirt.

Meanwhile everyone's holding out prayers
That someday soon she'll see she's wrong
Second best isn't the best place out there...
But maybe she's known that all along.

One of these days she'll stand up on her own
And she'll finally walk out of the door
But her exit will probably go unknown...
By then she probably won't care any more.

And maybe when the first step is taken
She'll open her eyes and see the light
That all of the love she was once forsaken
Can be hers if she's willing to fight

For the attention of someone who actually cares
Of someone who will give her what she needs
Instead of only pretending to always be there
While all her loneliness hurts her, indeed...

She's going to wake up soon enough, you know
And she'll set off to find another chance
To find true love with someone who'll show
She's more than merely a second glance.

Short Story Time.

2009-10-11T17:39:00.002-04:00

Featuring my two most symbolic characters, Jim and his brother Daniel.

The Last Decision

A pair of dark brown eyes winced as another yelping scream seared through the air. A set of hands gripped the railing of the bed tightly, so tightly that all the knuckles drained their color and were a ghastly white hue. The eyes closed and the shimmering of sympathetic tears glistened in the corners of the closed globes.

"You're hurting him," a soft, quavering voice declared finally. The eyes reopened, dilated with agony.

"We're doing the best we can," another voice explained calmly.

The dark eyes flickered for a moment. "You're hurting him!"

A gentle hand pressed softly down on his shoulder. Another masculine voice entered the atmosphere. "Calm down, Jim. He's fine."

The brown eyes whirled around, meeting a pair of gentle blue eyes hidden beneath glass shields. The blue eyes seemed to shiver. Jim growled lowly, "You don't feel it like I do. You don't know it like I do." His eyes misted over as they glanced back towards the bed. "You weren't there."

"Accidents happen, Jim."

The words trailed off into eternity. Accidents happen...

Accidents...

Laughter echoed through the caverns of the volcano, taunting Jim with the depths of its cruelness. Mocking him with the iciness of its temperature. But the young man stood resilient, his brown eyes unwavering as they stared down the source of the laughter -- a nasty and selfish man who sought to infiltrate the volcano's depths for the treasures hidden within.

In his grasp, he held Jim's younger brother. The younger boy was the perfect size for crawling into the dangerous space that held the treasure the man was seeking... but the boy wouldn't oblige. And he found himself with fingers plunged deep in his throat, strangling him... yet those same dastardly fingers were the only things keeping him alive. His frail body dangled helplessly above a great chasm that plummeted a hundred feet into a cauldron of magma. The young boy remained deathly still, the only thing moving were his gentle green eyes.

Staring down Jim -- pleading and screaming for help.

In Jim's right hand was his trusted shotgun. Over the years, Jim had become quite the gifted shot with this rifle. He had practiced with it daily until he knew its every quirk and every trait. And while he had deadly accuracy, the boy had never turned the rifle's power on another living object. Countless cans and bottles had met their demise at the hand of Jim and his rifle... but never a living, breathing, pulsing object. He lifted it up and placed the butt of it against his shoulder, beginning to take his aim.

"Let my brother go," he warned, his soft and growling voice echoing off the walls of the volcano's core, "or you'll leave me no choice."

The man's awful laughter bounced off the walls. "You think you frighten me? A little boy with his toy gun? I seem to think that you are forgetting one minor detail, son..." He turned himself slightly, revealing the quivering teenager in his grasp. "If you shoot me, your brother falls down this pit."

Jim swallowed, staring into his brother's terrified eyes.

"Just shoot him, Jim," the brother whimpered. He choked as the fingers dug deeper into his throat, strangling the shivering breath out of him.

Jim's index finger slowly slid into its position against the trigger. One of his dark eyes closed, the other staring unblinking at its target -- the man's chest, directly at the heart. It happened in a split second -- the cracking explosion, the slight recoiling backwards. Jim closed his other eyes as his body jerked backwards, an electric pulse seeming to rip through his body. His eyes reopened and he watched as the bullet sailed through the air towards its victim.

Time slowed even more. Jim's eyes dilated in terror and he reached forward with one hand, dropping his trusted shotgun to the ground. The man, in slow motion, whirled himself around and threw the imprisoned younger brother into the path of the shot. Jim's eyes flinched as the shot plunged itself into the younger boy's left arm. His stomach grew sick as he heard the tearing of the skin and the shouting from his brother's throat. The younger boy's body quivered with the force of the entering shot, and Jim could see the shockwaves pulse through the boy's arm.

His first ever shot at another living thing... and instead of hitting the target, he hit his precious brother.

The rest of the incident happened in a flash -- he bent down and picked up his shotgun, firing off the rest of the shots without so much as pausing to aim or taking the time to think. Five shots penetrated the body of the older man and he released his grip on the brother before tumbling backwards and falling to his death in the pit below.

Jim again had dropped his gun, catching his brother before the gun ever hit the ground. He wrapped his arms tight around his dear brother, quivering with guilt and fright.

"Daniel," he called. "Daniel, I'm so sorry..."

Daniel managed a trembling smile at his older brother, wincing through the pain shooting through his wound. "It's okay." He inhaled through his teeth, gripping at his arm gingerly. "I promise."

The older boy fought back his tears as he picked his brother up, cradling him ever cautiously in his arms. "We'll get you help, Daniel. I promise..."

Jim's body quaked. My first ever shot at another living thing, and I hit my own brother. My little brother! He trusted his life and safety to me in that moment, and I shot him. I shot him! Now he'll always be afraid of me... Even if he says he's not, I know he will be. He swallowed hard and brought a hand to one of his dark eyes. Oh Daniel... please forgive me one day...

Another screaming yelp pierced Jim's range of hearing, and his eyes snapped open. He watched in guilty misery as the doctors continued their assault on his brother's wounded arm. Never one to be queasy, he found himself strangely nauseated by the sight of the bloody bullet as they finally dislodged it from Daniel's arm. Daniel's voice emitted another awful cry -- another shot that launched itself straight into Jim's heart. He suddenly found himself being ushered out of the room. Before he left, he ruffled his hand softly through his brother's hair.

"I'll be right outside, I promise," he offered softly.

Daniel merely nodded his head, but the fear was evident in his eyes.

"Jim? Are you okay?" The other male voice finally entered the air after a few minutes. "You've been staring at the door since they closed it."

"I shot him, Jared."

"Accidents happen," Jared offered again.

Jim began pacing frantically. "He'll never trust me again! He'll be afraid of me! I shot him, Jared! I didn't mean to, but I did and now I'll never be trustworthy again!"

Jared blinked sympathetically. "Jim..."

"I hurt the closest person to me... I can never be forgiven."

"Jim." Jared grabbed his cousin by the shoulders and forced him to be still. "Daniel knows you didn't mean to hurt him. He knows it was an accident. He knows you were looking out for him and that you were trying to protect him. He knows, Jim."

"You didn't see the look in his eyes--"

"What I saw was someone who was very relieved to see you there, Jim."

Jim was silent.

"He'll forgive you -- in fact, he probably was never upset at you to begin with. He's still going to trust you and he's still going to be your best friend. Nothing's changed, Jim. I promise you that."

Jim's body quivered.

"Daniel's going to be fine... and so are you."

Jim nodded once, halfway, and crumbled slowly into a chair with his hands up at his face. Jared quietly sat down at his cousin's side and put a comforting arm around him. Jim closed his eyes tightly beneath the shielding of his hands and allowed his emotions to run free down his face as he tried to make himself forget the repercussions of his accidental last decision.

Just a Note and a Poem.

2009-10-09T11:44:00.002-04:00

After spending the last few days unsure what had taken my mood down so far into the depths... I got to have a conversation with someone who spoke some sense to me and cleared the picture up a little.

Thank you. Thank you so much for helping me see things more clearly. I'm beginning to feel a little better now... maybe there's hope after all.

And because I have to be cryptic and write my feelings in prose, here we go.

Clarity

Starting over was never said to be easy to do
Especially when we stood upon shaking ground
Quivering bodies we are bruised black and blue
Wondering why we even bother to stick around...

A moment of silence is shattered by an eruption
Knocking us off our feet and off our guard
Another violent burst of chaotic destruction...
Why has our survival suddenly become so hard?

Twisting and turning to avoid all the flames
Hiding behind shields and tossing verbal blades
Wounding one another without any sense of shame
The state of our love has started to degrade...

The world around us is hazy with an evil smoke
That strangles our vision and renders us blind
A nasty fog so thick that it wrangles and chokes
Until our caring for each other is left far behind...

We can't see the light at the end of the path --
The beam has been lowered and hidden from sight --
Instead the darkness wants to rip us in half
We've fallen so far... we're lost in the fight

Between one another rather than against all the odds
They're taking us under -- we're going to drown!
It's sad to think that we've become a lost cause
Sent to our deaths by the nastiness all around...

But just before the final explosion tears us apart
Before we're torn to pieces and ripped all to shreds
There is a long pause and then another restart
That renders us lifeless, we both fall down dead.

The pause then is ended, the world begins to move
The fog all around us begins to lift away
The pain is extinguished and the wounds now are soothed...
The darkness is over and we're starting a new day.

It's a brief moment in time that reveals all the faults
A little explanation for all of the recent grief
And suddenly I can say I'm a little less distraught
And suddenly I can say I'm feeling some relief

From all of the tension that was eating me alive --
The tension that engulfed not only me, but you
I can feel it deep down now, we're going to survive...
There's so much more that we can do.

The darkness kept me blind and I was lost in the haze
But with the light to guide my way, I'll be alright
I know that the healing process will take a matter of days...
But I'll keep our recovery strong in my sight.

For the past several days, I was trapped in despair
That came from a place that I couldn't comprehend
But now I feel like my life can be safely repaired
And I'm hoping that all our problems soon will end...

A source of external wisdom opened up my eyes
Taking away the fuzziness that kept me so confused
Stopping all my tears and silencing my cries
Stamping out the misery and coloring in the blues.

With my vision restored enough for me to see
I rise onto my feet and I look up at the day
Broken from the chains of my sorrow, now I am free
With clarity in my eyes, I'm now here to stay.

Third.

2009-10-06T19:42:00.005-04:00

The Second Funeral

They didn't make it much beyond a week
Before it went back down to hell
Neither bothering now to speak
Of the impending death of the unwell.

The sickly thing gasps in shaky breath
Trying desperately to make it through
But both of them know of its death
And know there's nothing they can do

To make this thing live once more
It was the victim of deep-rooted hate
That rattled it to its wounded core...
Now it waits to meet its untimely fate.

It's a tragic thing, watching something die
Especially when they had wanted it to be
But even after these countless tries
They refuse to simply let it go free

But why do they hang on so tightly
When they know that this life has failed?
The only thing that shines so brightly
Is all the anguish that has swelled.

Is all this suffering really necessary,
And is all of it worth these tears?
If it were love, wouldn't it be contrary
To spending all their time in fear?

The casket for this body is being constructed
And the grave for the bed is being made
The people around are slowly being instructed
That this poor thing cannot be saved.

And pretty soon it'll give up and succumb
It'll finally sink into its eternal sleep
They'll fall apart and this thing will become
Another source of misery stabbing deep.

Perhaps they deserve it for being so unwilling
To let nature run its course on its own
Instead their own anger caused this killing
Of a love that'll never be known.

The bed is slowly lowered into the ground
But bells will not toll and flowers go unplaced
Instead this death is celebrated without a sound
While two lives slowly become unlaced.

The second funeral will be harder than the first
Because with this one, there will be no revival.
The depression that's impending will be the worst
Knowing that there was never a chance for survival.

Brooding Prose.

2009-10-06T11:17:00.002-04:00

Finality

I throw up my bloodied arms in frustration
I toss the flag of white dripping now with red
Screaming out with the pain of devastation
My heart explodes from the disease within my head.

And the explosion rings out across the landscape
A loud popping of sorts, an ugly little sound
Demons come in and begin to tear apart and rape
Any of the emotions I've got left lying around.

The explosion has ripped open my chest
Revealing a pulsing mass that's throbs futily
The demons dig in and rip apart the flesh
Tearing out my heart and devouring it entirely.

My body quivers as I watch my own expiration
I'm trembling as the demons consume me whole
My lungs are pulled out, I've lost respiration
My cries are now strangled out of my control.

A set of claws head now for my eyes
Which stare on, paralyzed with fear
The claws gouge them out with in only one try
The empty sockets erupt in bloody tears.

More sharpened nails plunge into my skin
Effectively pinning me to the ground below
The monsters are tearing out everything within
Throat torn in half, my voice has nowhere to go.

My body finally slows it fruitless shivering
Acknowledging that the soul within is dead
One more strangled note echoes, quivering
And then from my body separates my head.

The demons step back to watch as I decease
Laughing now at the empty mass that I've become
Tearing me apart they found was a task of ease
And with one last convulsion, to death I succumb.

My dismembered body is tossed into a grave
As empty as the inside of my broken chest
They bury my remains without a marker to save
My place, but perhaps it was for the best.

Upon the blanket of my eternal bed
No flowers or plants will ever bloom...
The grasses are simply brown instead
Just like the walls of my forever room.

Passersby will never know of that day
The tragedy forever will go unheard
A fairy tale story that slowly fell astray
Until it became a tragic tale disturbed.

Within my little cavern, away I slowly rot
Until I've wasted away down to the bone
I've become the story that everyone forgot...
My struggle to love became forever unknown.

I'll never be visited by people who ever cared
And I'll never partake in a conversation with another
I'm destined to be the life of which people were spared
When I was destroyed by hatred and its brothers.

My whole life turned into one tragic tale
Of someone who wanted to love so desperately
But failed miserably and suffered through hell
Until she finally was forced to face finality.

Back to Writing.

2009-10-02T10:43:00.002-04:00

That's right, I'm back to my old tricks on the writing front.

Inspired off a dream I had last night.

As gruesome as this poem is...

No. I'll let you see for yourself.

Nightmare Dead

It all started with an eruption --
An explosion that rocked the world
A love now twisted with corruption
Shook two lovers to the very soul.

And then it happened in a flash!
The sky let loose with awful screams
An attack is released, the victims are thrashed
Their blood pouring in gushing streams.

She twisted and writhed in the utmost pain
But couldn't escape the vicious onslaught
Killed is the girl with a gash to the brain
He tries to run away, but he has forgot

That the demons have spied him running away
They leap forward and throw him to the ground
Holding him down and forcing him to stay
Ripping his throat so he can't make a sound.

And just like that, these two lovers have died
And just like that, their world is shattered
Because there was nowhere these two could hide
Their hearts on the ground now are spattered.

But the hearts continue to pulse relentlessly
Throbbing, gushing masses of bleeding romance
Spurting out gasping streams of blood incessantly
Still holding on for perhaps a second chance.

Their bodies are torn completely to shreds
Their limbs scattered across the barren lands
And while physically so, these souls aren't dead
They wish they could make the other understand

That these sacrifices didn't have to be made
That these ghastly murders didn't have to occur
The hearts still pound, hoping to be saved
And then from the depths, a light begins to stir

A ray of light lunges out from the crimson dirt
And forces its way to the haven in the sky
Finds the wandering souls and eases all of the hurt
Healing the wounds that made them both say goodbye.

Their bodies are renewed and brought back to being
With the insertion of the hearts that refused to expire
Nobody could believe what they were seeing...
These two lost souls began again to respire!

They sat upright, eyes meeting and holding gaze
Since the death that threw them so far apart
They held each other tight for the first time in days
Never feeling luckier for a chance to restart.

In her eyes, the spilling of overjoyed tears
With a gentle hand, he wipes them from her face
He reassures her now of all of their future years
Together as one, never again to be displaced.

Together they rise and look up at the day
For the first time in ages, two sincere smiles
It felt like it had been forever they were astray
And the journey was one of a million miles

But in the end, like a tale of fantasy
Together they had seen all of it through.
And now together they will always be
Spending eternity in a love so true.

Finally at night they will have a peaceful sleep
When they settle together and rest their heads
Spinning out of control forever in a love so deep
Now that the horrible nightmare is dead.

2009-10-02T06:01:00.001-04:00

It's going to be okay.

It's all going to be okay.

♥♥♥

Poem.

2009-09-25T19:56:00.002-04:00

To Say Goodbye

Her heart slowly explodes to shards
But long ago did all the love die.
She never knew it could be this hard...
Having to say goodbye.

He was the one who filled her heart
With feelings of a future warm and bright
But now those feelings are ripped apart
Because now all they do is fight.

She gathers the reminders of them
With tearful eyes she puts them away
She wonders how their situation turned so grim
And braces for the coming day

When she has to stand before her love
And watch the look upon his beautiful face
When she gives his heart back with a forceful shove
When she has to tell him to give back her space

She lays in the darkness of the crypt
With tears streaming from her emerald eyes
As she contemplates this final script
She can feel the life within her die.

Oh how she wishes she could just run instead
Instead of having to face this awful truth!
But he cannot clear these thoughts from her head
And all the pathetic hoping has turned moot.

The time for the confession will be tomorrow
She can feel it brewing deep within her soul
The fiery freeze of this impending sorrow
Singes into her wounded heart a gaping hole.

There's nothing left for her to do
The time has come for her to find her voice
She wishes this love was the one so true
But staying there is no longer a choice.

Her bleeding eyes stare into the night
Seeing the one to which she belongs
She closes her eyes to block out the sight
Because the image now is wrong.

With the dying declaration written in her brain
She curls up into a ball and starts to cry
Oh God, tomorrow there will be so much pain
When she finally has to say goodbye.

Interesting Weekend of Sorts.

2009-09-20T11:58:00.002-04:00

This weekend has been an interesting one of sorts. For starters, I've not slept since Thursday night and can't sleep at all... nor does my body seem to care to sleep. I'm half-expecting the crash to come tonight if I get left to my own devices long enough, though. Seventy-two-plus hours of sleep-deprivation is known to catch up with a person.

Shroomy and I had a most epic Skype conversation which has lasted 32 hours, 11 minutes, and is still going as we speak. It completely shattered the record Phil and I set by staying on a single call for 20 hours, 14 minutes. It's been officially declared: Shroomy and I have no lives. =D We spent the time watching video game playthroughs and part of an anime series... was great fun actually, and I hope to get to do it again sometime soon. Unfortunately, school beckons this week so I'll have to actually be in bed at a decent hour... if I'll even sleep.

This upcoming week at school is going to be fun... Philosophy test on Tuesday, class cancelled on Thursday. Accounting test on Thursday. Seems like it'll be a stressy but short stretch of time I'll be going through.

But yeah, there's my retelling of my weekend in a general summary: Epic win on Skype, epic hilarity on Skype when I tripped out on Nyquil. Hehe!

Anyway, I'm off to again attempt to get maybe a few hours of sleep, but the odds are I won't.

Some Selfish Wants.

2009-09-14T20:32:00.002-04:00

I want to be noticed. I want people to notice when I've gone away and I want people to actually care about where I am. I could disappear and nobody care. I want to be wanted. I want someone to tell me, "Hey, I want you to do something with me." Not, "You can if you want..."

I want someone to chase after me when I'm upset. I want to feel like someone cares and will take care of me. I want someone who isn't afraid to say "I love you," someone who will actually... say it. Not someone who waits for me to say it and then hesitates before saying it back... someone who isn't afraid to be affectionate and actually show they love me.

I want her to go away. I hate her. I can't stand her. Her very presence ruins my day and crashes my mood. She's taken my place in a lot of ways, and I can't accept it. If she doesn't go, then I will -- not because I want to, but because I'll have to. Because I can't stay silent much longer about how she makes me feel. Hearing that person say, "They're in love" really pissed me off. Just shove a dagger in my heart, why don'tcha? I guess I'm just too jealous a person... but if I were getting awfully cozy with someone else, wouldn't the tables be turned?

I want someone who will be happy with me. Someone who will take me for who I am, not what I do. Someone who won't keep me at arm's length. Why am I being kept at arm's length? What did I do? It hurts being kept at a distance.

I want someone who will leave me a message when they're going away. They don't have to give me a full-detailed schedule of every single minute of the day, but a, "Hey, I'll be out until maybe 3:00" would definitely be nice. Especially on nights where I wake up alone on Skype but assume that someone's there, so I spend hours talking to myself. Leave a message in text and end the call or wake me up and tell me. I'll roll back over and go back to sleep.

Do I ask too much? I admit that I have a bit of a jealous streak. I don't mind female friends until they start moving into my territory, and then I get upset. I admit I want to be the one that is chosen first for things... even if I have no fucking clue what I'm doing. I still want to be the first pick. I still want to be the special one. "Special." I want to be special to someone. I want to mean something.

But maybe I'm nothing special. Maybe I'm just ordinary.

I feel icky now.

I guess it's bedtime.

Really?

2009-09-14T08:08:00.004-04:00

Is it really that hard to give someone notice?

And could I really just fall off the face of the Earth and not be noticed?

I bet I could -- and that really fucking depresses me.

I guess it's hard to give people notice.

But whatever, I was just curious.

Meh.

2009-09-03T18:47:00.004-04:00

So I wrote a poem. And while I wrote it, I cried my mortal eyes out. Hard. Multiple times. This piece was both hard and easy to write at the same time, and both hurt and relieved me at once.

I warn it is contains extremely triggering themes. It blatantly turns triggering at the end.

Proceed with caution. It's not a pleasant piece.

The Tragic Failure

It's posted in front of all the eyes
For the entire world to see
It's the reason why something dies
Left in the form of an obituary.

It wasn't meant to be a mistake
Things weren't meant to end this way..
But she'd had more than she could take
And the pain just wouldn't go away...

She looked out the window with eyes of tears
Her body began to shake and tremble.
She had to say goodbye to all of the years
But her mind forced her to remember

All of the feelings that swarmed in her soul;
All of the memories that buzzed in her brain.
And knowing that she would never again be whole
Her eyes overflowed with this mourning rain.

There used to be sunshine all the while
Oh, how there used to be such a warm light
There used to on her face a permanent smile
But now all they could do was fight.

How did things take such a drastic turn?
How did it all wind up coming to this?
When did the all the affection become spurned
And when did the love become dismissed?

When did the bright sunshine turn to clouded days?
Where did the sudden distance emerge from?
And why couldn't she make this pain go away?
When did she lose the only one she relied on?

So many questions buzzed about her mind relentlessly
Slowly stabbing viciously at her wounded heart
And it all boiled down to what undoubtedly
Tore this poor young woman apart.

With a love so strong it could not be ignored
She turned away from him for the final time
Forever looking away from the one she adored
And turning herself to her final crime.

She grabbed a blade she'd kept hidden away
Lifted her head and placed the tip upon her chest
Closed her eyes tight and slowly began to pray
As she plotted the trail that would do her the best.

Slowly the blade made its first penetration
She winced a bit and gasped with the pain
But she continued on with the hopes of salvation
Her eyes began to flood with expiring rain.

Her body began to quiver as its life drained away
She plunged the blade in hard and twisted it about
She smiled through her choking on her final day
Watching in contentment as she slowly bled out.

She laid on her back and gasped, short of breath
Her body an island in a sea bathed in red
She whispered goodbye just seconds before death
Smiling a last time before her eyes went back in her head.

She left no note nor explanation
Neither did she leave an apology to be found
There was no need to explain her situation
So she left without a sound.

It wasn't meant to be a mistake...

Her body began to quiver and tremble...

She'd just had more than she could take...

But her mind forced her to remember.

Lyrics.

2009-09-03T18:42:00.000-04:00

The End of Heartache by Killswitch Engage.

Isn't Life Screwy?

2009-08-31T20:25:00.002-04:00

Sometimes you kinda wonder.

And sometimes you kinda wonder why you're wondering.

Isn't life screwy like that sometimes?

I'm in a weird mood.

It's not happy, but it's not sad nor is it angry.

It's kinda like mild disconnection.

Anyway, sometimes I find myself wondering.

About quite a few things.

But that's probably going to be a vent in my private diary.

For now, I return to my weird little disconnected state.

And I return you to your regularly scheduled life.

Good night. (Or morning, or whenever.)

A Series of Questions.

2009-08-28T12:39:00.002-04:00

When is it better to say what I'm thinking/feeling and when is it better to swallow my pride (and my words)?

When is it acceptable to block something or repress it from my own mind, much less the minds of those who are close to me?

When am I better off just venting in a private diary and when am I better off laying out all my cards on the table and revealing all my flaws?

Where is the line that separates protecting someone and lying to their face, and have I crossed it (probably more than once)?

Where is the boundary between trustworthiness and untrustworthiness, and have I blurred that line severely?

Where is it written that being more private than others causes bad things to occur, and is it true?

When is it okay to wake a person in the middle of the night with your own turmoils, and is it ever okay to wake that person for your own selfish needs?

Is it okay to frighten a person severely and for no good reason just so you can try to get some advice?

Have I become a complete and total liar, or am I just being too protective?

Have I kept too much too private, or have I said too much?

Is it too late for me to remedy this situation, or am I worked up over nothing?

So Yeah.

2009-08-26T07:54:00.002-04:00

Fun times occur when you forget to take your psycho-meds.

At least I understand part of why I was so effing down last night.

Oh yeah. My apologies to anyone I passed out on. I bought some cold medicine to combat whatever I've been sick with, and accidentally overdid it a bit.

I wound up having some kind of seriously screwed-up series of dreams last night, so I didn't sleep all that well.

I want to go home. I'm not feeling up to class. But it's only two hours' worth, so I should be okay.

Then I can go home and try to sleep.

What an exciting life I lead...

2009-08-25T17:57:00.003-04:00

Mama got diagnosed with Meniere's disease today. They put her on even more medications.

The cold or sinus infection or whatever the hell has been plaguing me has gotten worse. I've spent the day in an unforgiving, unending headache. I've been bedridden since I've come home, as I've not felt well.

I miss you.

I wish you were here.

2009-08-22T11:46:00.001-04:00

A week ago, things were so wonderful. So happy.

What happened?

Where did it all go?

...

A Disturbing Dream.

2009-08-20T12:50:00.003-04:00

So last night I had this awful dream...

I was laying on the floor of a house that I've seen in dreams before... a neighbor's house, I think it is. I was laying in his kitchen floor playing with a litter of kittens. They were all kinds of different colors and breeds, but they all had one characteristic that was the same: They all had these really deep blue eyes.

These were kittens that had just barely opened their eyes, kittens still small enough to fit easily in your hand. They bounced and romped happily, pouncing on my hands, feet, hair... as well as each other. They were all happy and carefree, full of energy and didn't have a trouble in the world.

I picked up one of the kittens -- it looked just like my cat Nitro, only with the deep blue eyes -- and snuggled it. It purred for a few moments, and then abruptly stopped. It suddenly began squirming profusely against me, clawing and biting until I put it down. Apparently I was a touch offended by this, for my eyes watered up as I set it down. When I put it down, it mewed at me in what seemed like an agitated or angry pitch and sprinted away. I sat up amongst the multitude of kittens, watching the one that had a problem with me, wondering what was wrong.

And then all the kittens started speaking. Yes, speaking. But all of them spoke in a separate language, and all of them spoke at the same time, loudly, trying to yell over one another. I rose to my feet, staring down at these creatures in frightened disbelief. Finally, the one with such a problem with me walked up, its tail flicking as cats tend to do when they're annoyed.

"You need to change," it spoke to me in perfect English. "Change, now."

"What do you mean I need to change?" I found myself asking to a kitten.

"If you don't change," it growled, its blue eyes narrowed, "then you're going to suffer because of it. And you'll suffer hard."

"What do you mean I'll suffer? What do I need to change?"

"You'll suffer!" It shouted.

When I blinked next, I was standing out in the middle of the large cemetery that borders the property line of Daddy's house. I was standing in front of one of the masoleums that I had explored on a previous trip. I went to lean against a support column of the masoleum, and I simply fazed through it. I looked down at myself in alarm and realized that I was semi-transparent and wispy. I could look through myself and see the ground beneath me.

"What is this?" I asked myself. Suddenly, I heard a voice coming from down the hill. I looked and saw a green tent of sorts pitched -- the sign of a funeral in progress. I realized it was strangely close to where my grandmother and her family are buried. I walked down the hill a ways to get a closer look. My eyes caught sight of something that made my heart stop for a fraction of a second.

I was looking at my family.

"Who..." I murmured to myself in a quavering voice. My eyes widened and I felt my knees buckle and grow weak. Who in my family had passed away? Who had I lost? I ran down the hill in a furious sprint, nearly tripping and falling down the hill in my panic. I rushed up to Mama's side and yelled, "Who is it? Who is it, Mama?"

She continued crying as if she didn't hear me. I blinked in confusion and tried to grab her arm. I fazed through her, unable to touch her. "Mama?" I asked, my voice cracking. "Mama, please! Mama, listen to me!"

She sobbed into Mike's arms, "My baby... my daughter..."

I gasped softly and nearly crumbled to the ground. I immediately thought she was referring to Shelby, her youngest child, when suddenly I heard my sister's voice trying to comfort Mama. I blinked and looked over at the casket nearby. It was dark green, and draped with lots of green ribbons and trinkets.

"No," I cried out softly, realizing what the symbolism meant. "No, it's not! I'm not!" I turned to my family and screamed, "I'm not! I'm here! Listen to me!" I ran to the casket and tried to pry it open, but I simply fazed through it like I had fazed through everything else.

When I blinked next, I was in Shelby's room in our house in Newnan. I heard her explaining something in a soft, trembling voice over in one of the corners. I looked over at her bed and didn't see her. Instead, she was sitting over by the window with a laptop on her lap.

I looked closer at the laptop from where I stood. It was mine.

I heard a soft voice from the laptop insist, "You're lying. You're wrong. You're playing a joke on me."

I wandered over to see who she was talking to. I was horrified to look and see she was on my Skype, on a call with my boyfriend.

Explaining to him what had happened to me.

"I'm not lying," she responded, tears streaming down her face. "I would never lie about something like this."

There was a long pause, and then the response. "But there was so much I never got to tell her..."

"I know, and I'm sorry," my sister paused to wipe her eyes. "Nobody saw this coming. Nobody knew..." Her mouth kept moving and she kept talking, but suddenly I could no longer hear what was being said.

"Nobody knew what?" I asked her. "What happened to me?"

She continued to talk without hearing me.

"What happened to me!" I screamed again. "Nobody knew what! Shelby! Phil! I'm right here!" I fell to my knees and began sobbing. "I'm right here! What happened to me... Where am I! What did I do! I'm alive! I'm still alive!"

The dream ended with the sentence "I'm still alive" echoing into nothing...

A Drabble of Confusion.

2009-08-19T19:53:00.002-04:00

Today was one of those days that have had me laying back wondering, "What the hell happened?"

I've been hit completely out of the blue.

I never expected it.

Never saw it coming.

Perhaps I was blind.

I sure do feel like I was.

I only have a limited time before I fall under, so I guess I should get all my rambling out now while I'm still able to.

My whole body hurts all over. I'm coming down with a cold or sinus infection. Probably the former because of the rainy day jaunt I had on Monday. Monday suddenly feels like it was so long ago.

Today itself has felt like it's drug on for eons. When I'm not musing, I'm staring at the ceiling waiting for answers. Answers that I'll probably never get. Answers I probably don't really deserve to know, need to know, or want to know. I don't know. That's the phrase of the century: I don't know.

Things went crazy today, in a big way that I never saw coming. I feel as if I've been blind-sided by a massive explosion, and I'm reeling from it. I haven't eaten since earlier today but my stomach feels so twisted into knots that I'd probably throw up anything I tried to ingest. I want to cry, and yet my body is too tired. It's weak from sickness and weaker from last night's episode... my body seems to have committed pseudo-suicide, and it fails to function. All I can do is lay here and stare.

Sometimes I can rock back and forth... but I tend to stay still.

You know that feeling you get when someone's first passed away... when you go to call them up that one day and remember that they're not there any more?

When you stare blankly at the phone in your hand and feel the knife working its way in...

When all the memories swirl back and smash into you like a freight train, reminding you of what was and what could've been?

When that crushing realization hits you -- you're all alone in this.

It's like that. It's exactly like that.

My heart feels like it erupted into a million little pieces. My chest feels like it's been assaulted by shards of glass. My arms burn from scratches I carved into myself with my fingernails. My eyes are sore and my head steadily grows heavier.

The problem lies in that I don't know what I'm supposed to do next, and because of my lack of knowing, I fear becoming involved.

Even if I should be involved.

Even if it is my problem.

I guess I'm prone to overeacting to the point that I run everyone away. That I get too clingy and too needy and smother and choke people to death. I still don't understand what's wrong with me. I want to be fixed. I want to be normal.

I want to be perfect. Even if there's no such thing as perfect, I want to be it.

And I'm not.

Just a Drabble of Prose.

2009-08-19T17:59:00.002-04:00

Never Remember Me

When you go away as I know you will
Because I know you must be free
Even though I might love you still
Promise you'll never remember me.

Forget the days that we were together
Let them escape far from your mind
Turn your sight instead to forever
And remember to leave me behind.

A burden I don't want to be
I won't be the chain holding you down
If you promise never to remember me
I'll leave without a sound.

I'll close my eyes and walk away
If that's what it will have to take
Even if I won't want to see another day
Or all my smiles I'll have to fake.

I cannot stand to see you bleeding
I can't bear to watch you cry
I wish I were deaf when you are pleading...
I would rather see you fly...

So fly away, please fly away fast
And please don't ever dare to look back
Make this day with me your last...
Please never remember that I you lack.

I hope that you will look to the day
And see the future that tomorrow brings.
I pray that things finally go your way
And that you forget I once was anything.

All these feelings, I'll push them deep
Within the confines of my soul
My love will be a secret I'll have to keep
Because with me, you are not whole.

So run away, just run away
Finally let yourself be free.
With me make this your final day
And promise to never remember me.

Just a Rant/Vent/Thought-Train.

2009-08-18T19:45:00.003-04:00

It's not fair sometimes. It really doesn't feel fair at all sometimes.

I know it's my own doing, but it still finds a way to stab me deep and really hurt.

I never wanted to be born socially inept or emotionally unstable. I never meant to become an anti-social girl who waits all day for only 40 minutes of "conversation" a night. If you'd even call it conversation, because I don't and I won't. It was more like me sitting in silence struggling to get a reply. Meh. It's my own undoing, I really understand this, but it still feels unfair.

This morning a guy who knew me before my surgery saw me for the first time since the procedure. He told me, "If I didn't know your wonderful smile, I'd never have guessed that was you. You were beautiful before, but look at you now! Wow!" That was a good feeling. No, not good... amazing. Absolutely amazing. I liked it. I hate to say it, but I want more people to say things like that to me. God knows my deflated little ego needs all the help it can get.

What is it about me that makes me so fucking awkward? What is it that makes it where I push away all my real-life friends? Why do I resort to people who live so far away, people who have lives outside of me? Actual lives. When did I become so pathetic that I'm simply somebody's after-thought? That nobody can spare the time to give me a decent conversation? That they don't care to tell me what they're doing... fuck. Maybe I don't deserve to know what people do with their lives. It's none of my business. I guess I should've realized that sooner.

What the hell, Dani? What the fucking hell? Why are you so stupid that you waste your life waiting on people to open up their schedule for you? Why are you so idiotic that you think people should drop everything for you? Why can't you get your own fucking life? Stop depending on others, because nobody gives a damn. So get over it. Get the fuck over it.

It's weeks like these that make me remember why I became suicidal in the first place. Who wants to live their life waiting for others while they go out and live? Apparently I do, because it's all I do. Wait day in, day out, diving further into an anti-social pit because apparently it's worth it to me somewhere in my twisted little mind. Or maybe it's because I'm so fucking used to it that I don't know any better.

I want a life. I want people to wait for me. I want people to wonder where I'm at. It's selfish, I know, but damnit, I want someone else to understand how I feel! I want someone else to know what it's like so I don't feel so alone.

Alone. That's become the key word lately. Alone. Alone, alone, alone.

I've given up trying to discuss my dreams. I'm slowly giving up on explaining my moods. I'm learning to give up asking how things are going, because the answer is always the same. The open book that used to be me is closing, and I don't think anybody really gives a fuck. And if nobody else wants to care, then fuck if I will. I'll close the book, padlock it, and throw the key off the top of a mountain.

Maybe then I'd actually be happy. Maybe then people would actually be interested in me. Maybe then my life would develop some kind of energy of its own.

I'm sick of living my life in someone else's shoes. It's not fun for me any more, especially when I wind up spending so much time feeling like this -- feeling like I don't matter; like my opinions or feelings are meaningless. I dug this hole far too deep and now I can't get out... and now I'm just going to waste away in this little abyss. Not that anybody'll ever notice it, anyway.

What happened to me? When I was younger, I was social and happy and free. Now I'm just a depressed and lonely waste of a life that could've been anything in the world. Now I'm just.... Nothing. Nobody. And the only person I can blame for that is myself.

For one day, why can't it be the other way around...

For one day, why can't I be the one with a life...

For one day...

Just one day...

I wish I could mean something to somebody.

But the truth of the matter is, I just don't.

Poetry.

2009-08-17T20:27:00.003-04:00

If you don't get it, then you don't need to get it.

But yeah.

Nothing

It's the phrase that comes around constantly --
This word should be less than few --
Instead this term has become this necessity
It must mean lots of things to you.

I shouldn't bother to ask about the day
Because the answer's always the same.
I need to stop thinking things are astray
The fact I can't remember makes me ashamed.

My memory seems to have turned bad
Because I'm always seeming to forget
That it only makes the both of us sad...
And for that, I feel all this regret.

Is it that my mind has become diseased
And has slowly started to decay?
Is it that my heart too hard has seized
And as a result, has pushed you away?

Or maybe the fact is I don't own your trust --
Maybe a little, but simply not enough.
Or maybe my twisted brain has a ridiculous lust
And makes up all this stuff.

Maybe it's that you fear I'd overreact --
That I'd explode into bits or fall apart.
But I'd prefer to know than to stay intact...
Your avoidance sometimes breaks my heart.

I don't want to be an object of upset.
I don't want to be another source of pain.
I don't want to be your next big regret.
I don't want to be a person you disdain.

But sometimes at night I admit I pray
That maybe tomorrow you'll be more open...
But the next day it again you simply say
And tomorrow night I'll resume my hoping.

I'll lurk in my darkness, deep and alone
Staring into the black until I cry
Warm saline tears make my desires known
But I just don't know what to try.

So to you I have but just one question
Of this word that means less than few:
Could you, perhaps, teach me this lesson
Of why this word means so much to you?

The phrase is a weapon the moment its uttered
This nasty one-word assault -- I hate it so!
I wish you would get out of the dangerous clutter
Of your all your nothings -- Let them go!

It feels as if a siphon penetrated my soul
And the life within is simply being possessed
Tearing into me another large gaping hole
I'm extremely sorry that I'm so obsessed!

And so for now I turn off these lights
And pray for the hope tomorrow could bring
If only for once you didn't put up a fight.
If only for once it was more than nothing.

2009-08-17T20:15:00.001-04:00

Crash and burn.

But that's okay.

Today was okay for a while...

Even if I did wind up getting caught in a massive rainstorm.

It really was funny. I laughed.

But now I'd rather cry.

Probably will.

Crash and burn.

But it's okay.

The Same Things Brought Us Here.

2009-08-14T05:14:00.003-04:00

Right now, all I can think is how fitting this song is. It's called Reality, and it's by Staind.

I've had a rough night of learning things I didn't want to know. I already knew that Daddy originally didn't want me... but I didn't know just how bad it was. When I'm more clear-headed, I may explain further on the situation. I just can't right now; my mind is somewhere else.

Where is it at, exactly?

Half of it is gone to sleep. A third of the remaining half is thinking about my moving to Columbus tomorrow. Another third of the remaining half is trying to tell me to go to sleep and stop thinking. The last third of the remaining half is stuck in a huge turmoil about Saturday.

It works like this: Every single time we get close to marriage, we fall apart at the seams in a way that I've never seen before. Everything just goes to pieces and everything explodes... tempers flare and fuses are short. But why? I wish I knew. Perhaps it's a sign...

On one hand I want to go through with Saturday because we've planned it and gotten all the arrangements for it... for the most part. I want to go through with it because maybe we'll be better after the anxiety of the whole event passes. God knows I was (and still am at times) nervous about it, I've no shame in admitting it. I'm nervous to the point I'm almost scared.

I'm terrified that we aren't ready for this yet and are moving far too fast. We've known each other for a few years and been together for 14 months, but we're still doing a wonderful job of getting under each other's skin and causing as much damage as possible. Is it because we're just not compatible? Are we both holding onto something silly? I don't know and I wish I did.

I felt a sad anger at the end of the discussion earlier tonight. Kind of a final sad, final anger that takes a lot out of you and leaves you feel empty and depressed. The kind that seens to try to tell you that something's amiss.

And maybe there is.

I don't want what I want to do right now... except for catching a nap.

Expect more rambling soon, I'm probably not done.

There's just too much.

Just Another Piece.

2009-08-09T09:32:00.004-04:00

Taking a break from Text Twist, as I have a new piece to produce.

Once More

The only sound that's heard is silence
And yet their nothing yells so loud.
The only feeling in the air is violence
Because both are just too proud...

Or is it rather that they're afraid?
Perhaps it's not a matter of pride.
Maybe they fear they cannot be saved...
And out of fear, instead they hide.

And they strangle their hearts with agony;
They'll be tortured in silence for hours...
Why do they hurt themselves so needlessly?
This love has become a struggle for power.

So many questions in the back of the mind
Of a person caught in such a web tangled...
Wrapped up in thoughts of being left behind...
Choking as the tears begin to strangle.

Staying up late because they cannot sleep
Staring into the dark nothing looking for relief
Screaming to themselves with pain running deep
But holding on desperately to one simple belief:

That they're forever meant to be together
That they're the perfect match
Without really knowing that their "forever"
Could possibly away be snatched

Because they simply refuse to yield
They both demand that they be right
It's left them upon a battle field
On which they hold all these fights.

And where is this field located,
This place that holds so much pain?
It rests upon two hearts devastated
And reflects in eyes pouring with rain.

The wager in these wars indeed is strong
The price to pay is extremely high --
For if these battles go on for too long
This love between the two may die...

And despite this fact, the fights show
Instead of signs of ever wanting to end
Offering up signs of wanting to grow...
The length of time with each war extends.

They stand up tall and yell with all their might
Refusing, not even once, to give in and surrender
Instead they both want to prove themselves as right...
Maybe one day their love they'll remember.

But instead they simply break away from one to two
Their hearts forever broken on the floor
Too focused on the righteousness they believe is true...
Here they go to fight once more.

Here We Go Again.

2009-08-07T19:37:00.002-04:00

Warning: Strong language.

Cannot Continue

And here we go, oh yet again
Another duel against me and you.
Here goes a battle neither can win
God knows this cannot continue.

What's the point of all the war?
What's the point of this debate?
What the fuck are we fighting for?
When the hell do we see the mistake?

For the love of God, open up your eyes!
For fuck's sake now, stop all these fights
Don't you know how slowly the time flies
Trying to prove pointlessly that you are right?

And I say this not just to you
But also to myself
Let's stop screaming ourselves black and blue
And put these fights on a far back shelf.

Goddamnit all, this isn't how this should be
Beating each other until we both do shatter...
When the fuck do we open our eyes to see
We're killing what's truly supposed to matter?

We must've fallen as low as low can get
It almost looks like we've just fallen apart
Staggering and stumbling with each verbal hit
Cannot be good for these wounded hearts.

I don't understand what causes the spark
That sets us into these aggressive flames
In the midst of the fire, I sit here in the dark
Feeling this heartache, feeling ashamed

That there's nothing I can say to restore
Us to the light-hearted way we used to be
I sit back and wonder how you can say you adore
Someone who can send you into a screaming spree.

For fuck's sake, the games are wearing me out
I'm convinced that I need to watch my back
Both my head and my heart are loaded with doubt
And think that affection and respect are lacked.

So here we go, yes, here we go again
With these ongoing battles between me and you.
Another war of words that neither will win...
Fuck knows that this cannot continue.

2009-08-01T05:24:00.003-04:00

This sums it all up quite nicely.

Sometimes you know something is wrong, but you do it anyway.

And it feels great at the time.

But later on it feels horrid.

Unless you just don't care about it any more.

And then it no longer matters.

My head is full of heavy thoughts.

Things may change by the end of the day.

But nobody can be certain.

I just need to step back and re-analyze some things.

Because lately they haven't been right.

And it's finally caught up with me.

Random Inspiration.

2009-07-30T12:37:00.002-04:00

I was just sitting here when a passing spirit visited me. It was lonely, sad, nostalgic. Longing to be alive. I felt this longing so severely that all I could do was cry for the passerby...

And it provoked this story.

Longing for Home

They sought refuge in an abandoned cathedral on the far edge of the city. The rain was falling so hard that none of them could see three feet beyond the ends of their noses, and they were all shivering with cold as they piled into the dilapidated structure. There were holes in the ceiling that allowed a little bit of light -- and rain -- to fall into the building, revealing years of neglect and abandon. The wallpaper barely clung to the walls and was completely missing in some places. Several of the pews were broken, having succumb to the demise brought on by water and mold. A large stain glass mural hung overhead, but was missing several tiles. A lone chandelier barely hung on the ceiling, missing several lights and looking as if the cord it was dangling upon would give way at any moment. The entire structure smelled musty with decay, as if the very place itself were just another rotting corpse. And to an extent, it was.

"This is an awful sad place to take shelter in," the teenaged boy with dirty blonde hair said while wringing out the end of his shirt.

"I know, Daniel, but it was the only place we could find," replied an older boy with pale red hair. His dark eyes scanned the area slowly, both admiring and mourning the lack of care the building had seen.

Daniel looked to the other boy, who was his older brother. "I hope it stops raining soon, Jim. I don't like being here."

"Neither do I," Jim replied.

Nearby, another young man was scoping the facility out as well. He walked over to one of the broken pews and gently brushed his fingertips along it, feeling the splintery wood as if trying to read its history. His blue eyes turned upwards towards one of the holes in the ceiling and he squinted as he looked out of it. The rain still poured down from the opening, resembling a bleeding wound that nobody cared to tend to. It made him feel strangely sad.

The lone female of the group was standing underneath the stain glass mural, looking up into the array of reds, blues, and greens. Her green eyes were slow to blink if they blinked at all, her involuntary responses slowly neglecting to respond. She tightened her hands into fists at her sides, quivering and making a slight sound. She caught the attention of the blue-eyed male, who walked forward and rested his hands upon her shoulders softly.

"Luca, are you okay?" He asked gently, worriedly.

She turned to face him, an empty expression glazed her eyes over into two orbs of milky glass. She neglected to respond.

"Luca?" The boy asked again, gently shaking her.

She blinked and her whole body wracked with a quick shiver as she seemed to return to the surface. "Phil, I have a feeling we're not alone in here."

Phil nodded once, halfway. "I got that feeling, too, but didn't want to say anything. Are you okay?"

"This place resonates sadness and abandon," Luca murmured cryptically.

"Luca..."

The brothers walked over to their friends. "What's going on?" Jim asked.

Phil shook his head with confusion. "I don't know. She's not herself." He looked down for a moment, and then back up. "I think we should leave. I don't like what this place has done to her."

"Don't make me leave," Luca suddenly yelped in a voice that sounded nothing like her own.

The three young men quickly jumped and gazed at the girl. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her body began to shiver violently. Phil's eyes widened in distress and he grasped his girlfriend tightly, shaking her hard. "No!" He cried. "No, Luca! Don't let it take you!"

Don't leave, a voice declared from one of the holes in the ceiling. Please don't leave.

"What's that?" Daniel asked, cowering a little bit and stepping closer to his brother.

I've not had company in so long. Please don't leave now, the voice continued. I've not had a body to inhabit in so long. Please.

Phil's breathing came out in four quick, shallow gasps. His blue eyes blinked a few times, trying to ward off tears of distress. "You let her go," he demanded in a timid voice. "Don't you take my girlfriend from me."

Luca's body stumbled backwards awkwardly, coming to rest against the stain glass mural. Her eyes had turned a glassy black, and the color was lost from her form. A shaky hand rose from its place at her side and reached out towards Phil invitingly.

Play with me, the voice insisted. Please play with me.

Phil stepped back and bit his lip so hard it nearly drew blood. "Let her go," he insisted, his voice wavering. "Please just let her go."

Daniel stepped back as well, several feet back, as if wanting to run for the door and never look back. "What the hell is going on?" He demanded.

Jim smiled sadly. "This building has a spirit, and the spirit has manifested in Luca's body."

"Why are you smiling?" Phil cried angrily. "It's not funny!"

"I didn't say it was, Phil." Jim replied softly, the smile quickly leaving his face. "You see, this spirit is just a lonely soul who has been trapped in its spiritual form for quite some time, and it just wanted to know what it was like to be alive again. To have a body..."

Phil closed his eyes and he yelped, "I don't care! I want my girlfriend back!"

Don't make me leave, the voice insisted. For the first time in so long, I don't feel alone.

"You don't have to stay here," Daniel insisted. "I don't know much about spirits, but I do know that you don't have to stay here."

Jim nodded. "Release our friend, please, and proceed on to the afterworld. You don't have to stay here. You don't have to be alone."

I want to be alive again. I simply wish to live...

"It's time for you to move on," Jim insisted. "It's time for you to go."

Luca's body suddenly stood completely straight, her head turned up towards the ceiling. Her eyes opened wide and every muscle in her body could be seen tightening hard. A strange fog began to drift from her being, floating up through the air and swirling until it took the form of a young woman. The form hovered above Luca for several moments, staring at the boys with a longing sadness in her eyes.

I just want to live, she moaned again. I'll never leave here until I am alive again.

The three boys watched her form slowly turn into mist and fade away into nothingness. Phil ran forward and caught his girlfriend as she swayed and fell forward. He clutched her tightly in his arms, a few tears of distress spilling over from his tightly closed eyes. "Oh, Luca," he whined softly. "Please be okay."

Luca opened her eyes, which were back to their normal green color, and blinked. She then proceeded to grasp at her boyfriend and begin to cry. "She just wanted to live," she whimpered through her tears.

He rocked them both back and forth slowly, nodding his head and holding her tighter. "I know."

"She just wanted to live..." She repeated again.

The brothers walked over and tried to console their two upset friends. None of the four saw the sunlight coming through the holes in the ceiling.

None of them saw the broken figure of the woman reflected in the stain glass mural just behind them.

Prose to Go With the Raging.

2009-07-21T20:49:00.003-04:00

This poem goes hand-in-hand with the raging, venting post below. I don't give a damn if neither are read, because I've become convinced that my words are falling on deaf ears anyway.

So have a poem.

The Throw Away

She's become the useless object
She's turned into a wasted thing
Too blind to see she's a reject
Afraid of the pain isolation brings.

So she clings to him like a parasite
Trying to convince herself he cares
Unaware she's dueling in a lost fight
Can't see he doesn't care if she's there.

Stupid girl asks of him a question
But can't even get the time of day
And yet she takes this without objection...
Too afraid to be alone, so she'll stay.

Can't even begin to comprehend
The fact that he's happy her to ignore
Unwilling to speak up and defend
Herself at this point any more.

She lives with a morbid sense of love
Believes love is suffering in silence
Meanwhile it takes her heart and shoves
It full of a brewing, quiet violence.

And maybe one of these days she'll break
Maybe she'll finally stand on her own
Maybe the stupid girl will see her mistake
And make her wounded feelings known.

Maybe she'll finally stop the burning tears
Dig her fingers in and crawl up and out
Maybe she'll get over her silly little fears
And finally learn what love is truly about.

But until that time comes, she's destined to be
The idiot who will cry through most of the day
Because she refuses to be alone and free
Resigned to always be his little throw away.

Raging and Venting at Wit's End.

2009-07-21T20:15:00.004-04:00

It's kind of funny.

But it's really not.

You know, one of these days I'll learn better. But tonight I guess I just forgot.

It's funny in that I went through this same crap years ago. It's funny that when I went through it then, I swallowed it and took it because I thought things would get better.

Ha. Haha. Fucking hilarious, Dani. You're a friggin' idiot.

I wanted someone to talk to today. Why? Stupid reasons.

Reason #1: I was upset in general. Down and out. But hey, who gives a damn?

Reason #2: I've been feeling a bit upset since we were told that the rescue we sent Caesar to lost him. Lost him. We found his owner, and the fucking rescue lost him.

Reason #3: The Columbus authorities fucked up the investigation into the death of our great-aunt and are trying to cover their asses about it, fooling my family into thinking the case still has some sort of chance. Well, guess what? It fucking doesn't.

Reason #4: Because I'm an idiot and thought it'd cheer me up.

But instead I got nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing. But that's fine... I'll lay down and take it like the pansy little bitch that I am. Ha. Haha. I'm so fucking pathetic. I waited all day for nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing.

Am I being selfish? Oh, quite possibly. Probably so. But hey, who cares, right? It didn't matter today and it won't matter tomorrow. Nope, tomorrow we'll pretend like nothing ever fucking happened, because we're so used to sticking our goddamn heads in the sand like we're ostriches.

I'm tired of sticking my head in the fucking sand. I'm tired of suffocating on sand. I'm tired, tired, tired of it.

I'm so close to throwing up my hands and saying "fuck it all" that it's not even funny. Why? Because it's slowly become just like the situation I was trapped in years ago, when I was an idiot and didn't know better. When I was a pathetic little girl who'd let people walk all over her. When I was stuck with someone who put me in the back of his mind just because I was pathetic enough to let him.

Why do I want to be the last resort? Why do I want to be the one that people go, "Eh, I don't feel like dealing with her today so I won't." Why would I want to be the one people don't give a damn about? Huh? Anyone want to tell me?

When you come up with the answer to my questions, come find me and tell me.

I'm not going to be treated like a throw-away. I don't care how attached I think I am, I refuse to be the trash that people simply step on and throw away without caring what it does to my psyche. Fuck knows that my psyche has been damaged enough without careless people bending me until I break. God fucking knows I don't need it.

I want to know I'm respected, cared for, loved, and worth the time. And if I'm not, do me a favor and tell me so.

So that I'm not wasting my life waiting all day for someone who isn't going to give me the time of day anyway.

I genuinely hope you feel better tomorrow. But don't be surprised if you're given the same treatment tomorrow that you gave me today.

In fact, you can halfway expect it.

Random Prose.

2009-07-19T23:22:00.005-04:00

A piece of poetry related to story 094 of my 104 Story Project. It's both dark and sweet at the same time. I don't know how to explain it.

It was just a random piece that floated into my head.

Twilight

And the heavens grow dark slowly at
The coming of clouds from the depths of hell
Sending waves of terror that
These two have come to know all too well.

From the ground below, the demons emerge
Undead creatures with sights set on death
Upon the denizens of the world they converge
Aiming to wrestle away the living's breath.

The air has gone heavy and silently still
For a moment time seems to be frozen
And then in an instant falls the first kill
Death by a pair refusing to be broken.

She bears in her hand a blade of purple flame
Her very own life force pulses in the blaze
She'll fight to her death but not for her fame
She stands tall in the midst of a blood haze.

In her chest beats a heart that's twisted
In her eyes flickers a flame of pain and rage
Her soul resides with a mind that's conflicted
She was a wounded animal left to die in a cage.

But then she learned the existence of caring
She learned that someone could be trusted
Life became manageable with someone sharing
The burden that she had been entrusted.

And while he's never been one of bravery
He will stand tall at her side through it all
Because he has fallen into love's slavery
He knows that either they'll both live or fall.

And so together they stand up to face the dead
That have risen up from their graves
They'll force these demons back to eternal bed
Or else the world will never be saved.

She stands up and smiles pleasantly his way
He smiles back nervously and thinks of the fight
As together they go forward into the fray
That starts to rage in the blood-red twilight.

2009-07-14T17:49:00.003-04:00

Aftermath

So here we are once again
On opposing ends of the trigger
Fighting wars we can't win
Another loss added to the figure.

And whatever does it matter
To add another negative story?
Who cares if one of us shatters
In this light of agony's glory?

I'm dragging myself upon the ground
Bleeding from all of these wounds
My throat is cut, it makes no sound
As I scream, "Let all this end soon."

I've dusted myself off so many times
And bandaged the multitudes of sprains
But yet recovery has become the crime
And the punishment is only pain.

We've gone off in a violent explosion
A furious blaze has torn us both apart
Now we sit back and watch the erosion
And death of the love in our hearts.

The explosion came from out of nowhere
Setting the world ablaze in this inferno
Of venomous words and dagger-glazed glares
Makes me wonder where did our love go...

Maybe this eruption should've killed us both;
Maybe we should just lay down and die.
Maybe we're never going to see our love's growth...
Maybe the love just doesn't want to try.

It's a heartbreaking day when an accident
Causes so much destruction and devastation
It's sickening to the stomach how little sense
All of it makes -- Agony is a great sensation.

So now we'll be picking up the pieces once more
If there's even a point to walk the broken path
Because God knows I'm shaken down to the core
Every time I witness our aftermath.

2009-07-08T01:41:00.002-04:00

So tonight Shelby, Steve, and I went exploring the uber large cemetery in town that I've always wanted to see. The graves there go back as far as the year 1800! The air of the cemetery felt heavy and I had trouble standing up and walking, as I was feeling bombarded with energy. I found a grave that had a random hot spot on it where all the other graves around it were cold... it was amazing! What a time.

Cemetery exploration plus a new Luigi's Mansion ringtone on my cell phone plus new vanilla lotion make me happy.

I'm going to try and sleep now.

Nothing Ever Hurt Like You.

2009-07-07T18:52:00.004-04:00

Nothing ever hurt like you.

Ever.

Wounded Words

Sometimes these smiles of mine are fake
And occasionally these laughs are forced
Sometimes I've had beyond all I can take
But you wouldn't know any of this, of course.

There must be some blinders that you wear
That makes the world so wonderfully carefree
But it takes away your ability to care...
Or, at least, it seems like it to me.

So what would you care if I disappeared?
You don't seem to need me as of late.
So what would you do if I suddenly weren't here?
Would you think that suddenly you I hate?

Do you even know how it feels to be alone
Spending hours upon hours waiting for an opportunity
Only to mistakenly find the plans unshown
Revealing that your silly chance never was to be?

Does your heart even know how to yearn
For someone with which time you wish to share?
Of course you don't. Maybe you need to learn
What it's like when I'm suddenly not there.

Is it time for these tables to finally turn?
Is it finally time for me to escape the cage?
I grow weary of my chances constantly spurned;
I'm tired of feeling like an actor upon a stage.

I've become patient because I thought it was part
Of the entire dimension that is known as "love"
But gradually I feel different courses do we chart
And that I cannot be your perfect angel from above.

I'm no longer willing to spend my days in wait
For a fifty-fifty chance at seeing you for some time
If you don't have time then end our togethered fate...
Because false imprisonment is the nastiest of crimes.

I don't want to be locked away, I hope you understand
That this angry speech is because I feel unheard
I'm attempting now to make some kind of stand...
Please hear these wounded words.

Broken Musings.

2009-06-30T21:19:00.003-04:00

So I go to the doctor in the morning.

So I get to pretend that I'm feeling fine and social.

It kinda turns out that I'm not.

I've tried to eat tonight, and every attempt has wound up making me ill.

I'm laying in my bed waiting to sleep. Hoping to God I'll be comatose.

Hoping to God I don't dream.

I feel like I've shattered into a million pieces.

And I'm struggling to put them back together before tomorrow morning.

How come nothing ever works right?

How come things always boil down to this?

How come I always wind up alone?

Am I meant to never share my feelings?

Am I meant to never love?

There's too many questions.

Too much aching in my soul.

Too much wanting.

Too many words I want to say.

But not enough mental strength to find the way to word them.

Plus, too little time.

I still hope you make yourself everything you couldn't be when I was holding you back.

God knows at least one of us deserves happiness.

2009-06-30T10:20:00.001-04:00

Sometimes things don't go the way you plan.

How come things never go the way I plan?

How come things aren't going the way I was told they would go, either?

I'm a little bit frustrated and kinda miffed.

But hey, who cares?

Yeah.

I guess you could say I'm a little bit bitter today.

Random Venting.

2009-06-30T00:10:00.003-04:00

Tonight I got into a conversation that's got me thinking and wanting to vent some things out. What started as a conversation about the cost of my new medication has turned into a slightly emotional vent that I can't help but chew on.

We're going to dive into my mental past... feel free to ignore the following vent, but it's open and blunt and direct. Maybe too much so. But it's all out there, the complete and honest truth about everything that's brought me to where I am now.

So far, I'm really glad that I was able to gather up the strength to admit that I had -- no, have -- a problem. After years of not knowing what was wrong, and thinking that it was simply normal to go from blissfully happy to nearly suicidal, I've discovered that there's something wrong with that... and that it's preventable. That I can be happy, that I don't have to walk around on eggshells and fear that tiny trigger that sets off everything.

That I could be... you know, stable. That S-word I've always wanted but never could be.

My biggest problem was overcoming the fear of medication. When I was about sixteen or seventeen, I was placed on Zoloft for severe depression. At first, it seemed to work well... little did I know that I was wrong. It sent me into extremely trippy highs of hyperactivity -- as if nothing bothered me at all. Even getting hurt caused me to just laugh and ignore the situation. I didn't care about anything else, nothing bugged me... I was happy.

So I thought.

A few months would pass and I would become diagnosed with moderate ADHD. I was placed on Welbutrin to combat this condition... supposedly the Welbutrin would make me focus and concentrate. I wanted to be able to focus, as it was my first year of college. For a week or so, things seemed to be working very well. My focus was sharper than anything I'd ever experienced in my life and I was catching every word my professors said. Shiny things weren't distracting me, I didn't fidget in my seat, and I was just... focused. I thought I was fixed... I thought I was officially normal.

But then things started going downhill. More like spiraling out of control.

I started having vivid night terrors where I'd wake up convinced I was being attacked savagely. I started feeling paranoid and twitchy. The highs got higher and the crashes more severe. The depression started returning with a viciousness I'd never seen before. I became afraid to sleep. They put me on Ambien to combat the sleeplessness.

Image that -- being forced to take something that would make you sleep and experience such awful nightmares. Stupid me, though, I became addicted to the Ambien's effects -- who wouldn't want an aphrodisiac? What I didn't realize was that while it increased my libido, it was killing my memory. I started waking up in weird places around my house... One morning I awoke in a heap in the kitchen floor. I started waking up without my clothes after going to sleep fully dressed. I took a pair of scissors to my face and cut off my eyebrows... and couldn't remember doing it.

Meanwhile, I wasn't saying anything to anybody because, again, I thought it was normal. I thought, "If I give this time, it'll all subside and I'll be okay again." But things kept worsening. I started crying in the middle of classes, I started becoming highly distracted by deep and complicated plans of how I could kill myself.

How to die...

And then the episodes began. I started having near-psychotic episodes in which I completely lost my mind. I had these around my then boyfriend, who became so terrified by them that he admitted to being afraid of me. He told me of episodes where I tried to punch him in the face as he held my trembling, sobbing body down. He told me how I ran from him and grabbed a bottle of Tylenol and attempted to swallow them all. I didn't believe him -- after all, I didn't remember these instances happening. He told me I laid down in the middle of the street in his subdivision and screamed at the sky, "Come on! You won't do it!" Again, a fantasy in my mind.

Until the fateful night I was forced to see that he wasn't simply telling tales.

I was feeling sick that night, but Mama was insistent I went to the store with her and Shelby. Mama was in a foul mood from a rough day at work, and was throwing around words she normally didn't use. I got ready and got into the car, feeling steadily sicker. When we got halfway to the store, I told her I thought I was going to throw up. She flung the car around and sped home, threw the keys at me angrily, and told me, "Just stay inside. I hope you do throw up." With that, she and Shelby left me. Alone.

This event triggered me. I went inside, threw up, and proceeded to have a complete breakdown. I stumbled, almost drunkenly, through the house, laughing and crying at the same time. Then things went blank.

When I came back to the surface, I was laughing and humming to myself, sitting in the corner of the kitchen with a large knife slowing cutting into my wrist.

I snapped out of it immediately at this image, throwing the knife across the room and running to where my medications were kept. I grabbed the bottles, went to the bathroom, and flushed every last pill down the toilet. When I went back to my doctor a few weeks later, I told him I came off them. When asked why, I simply replied, "I can handle it on my own."

But four years had passed since then, and my condition wasn't any better. I was still highly volatile and easily triggered. I suffered multiple episodes of panic attacks that terrified both me and my current boyfriend. I even went as far as to threaten him with my own death during these episodes, because I was convinced I had failed him when there was no signs that he was discontent. After we both were calm and he had finally found enough peace to sleep, I spent that night awake, staring into the dark. There was no reason for me to have gotten that way, and I spent the night trying to make up an excuse. I never could.

It was extremely frustrating, knowing that my family and loved ones were walking on eggshells because I was so easily triggered. It's painful to know that they were afraid of me harming myself -- or worse -- because they might accidentally trigger my sharp crashes. I toyed mentally with the thought of resuming medications and counselling... but I was too afraid.

No more fiascos. No more lapses. I was horrified I'd do it all again.

The parentals were away in Savannah, and Shelby had started a new job. I was alone for the majority of the day, several days in succession. Not even my online friends seemed to be around that much. It left me too much time to become triggered and depressed, and gave me too much time to plan an ending. I made my first attempt at suicide in several years during those days, attempting to drown myself in a bathtub. However, something made me rethink my plan, and I instead stood in scalding hot water until the water turned cold and I had properly burned myself.

That night, Shelby came home and found me on my hands and knees, scrubbing the kitchen floor. I'd become so wrapped up in trying to distract myself from my lonliness that I resorted to extreme cleaning. She had brought home dinner for herself and I'd had nothing, but I didn't feel like driving to get it on my own while I wanted some of hers... even though it was food that normally I don't care for.

I curled up into a ball on the couch and said nothing for thirty full minutes. My first words to her after that period of silence was some kind of snarky remark followed by a round of tears. She'd had enough and called Mama on me, terrified that I was going to do something dangerous to myself. Later that evening I attempted to leave the house alone, because I wanted to drive as far away as possible. Shelby refused to let me leave alone, however, so I told her I was going to pick up dinner for myself. I could barely keep the car in my lane because I was far too enveloped in my own misery and desire to run away. She forced me to pull over and she drove me to get food and drove us safely home.

This was when I realized that I needed to do something about it. I took a few days to think it over, and finally told Mama, "I want to go to the doctor and talk to him about this."

I brought this up with my boyfriend, who immediately seemed resistant to me starting treatment. It was a painful few days while we struggled to get a grip on the situation, and, at times, I wanted to break up with him because I didn't think he would be willing to support me... and I wouldn't make him suffer that just like I refuse to be with someone who won't support everything I do. I began having nightmares of losing him and started sleeping less out of fear. I finally came to the conclusion that if I didn't talk about it, he and I would be fine. I started confiding in another friend to avoid the confrontation... but it wasn't the same. I wanted my boyfriend to be the one I confided in, as I trust him and want him to be active in everything I do... even if he disagrees, I wanted him to support me.

The doctor's appointment went over without a hitch, and I was told that I was misdiagnosed as a teenager. I'm not depressed, I'm bipolar, and the medications I had been put on years ago were not meant to treat my condition. In fact, they worsened the problem and that's what caused my "lapse outs." He started me on an antipsychotic, Abilify, which I've been taking for nearly two weeks.

A few days into the treatment, I brought it up with my boyfriend. He had become supportive of my decision, which took a huge weight off my shoulders. I actually cried tears of happiness and relief after that conversation with him, as I knew I had my column of support again. With him at my side again, I knew that whatever would happen to me, I'd get through it. He'd seen me through the biggest surgery in my life, had never left my side during the recovery, and has been so wonderful in the months since that I could see no other person at my side through another big step in my life. I felt genuinely happy and eager to proceed, so that I can be stable for him.

So that I don't have to make him walk on thin ice or make him think he's failed when I've randomly crashed.

So he doesn't have to blame himself or wonder why I'm angry when there was never a reason for the explosion in the first place.

So that there wouldn't be so much tension caused by my inability to control myself and his not knowing what was wrong.

After seven years of wondering what the problem is... we finally have it figured out. Now the recovery and healing can begin. I can finally begin to pick myself up, dust myself off, lick the wounds clean, and stand on my own two feet. I won't have to spend my nights wondering why the hell such a screw up like me was ever placed on the earth because I no longer think of myself as one. I'm just... a little different.

And that's perfectly okay.

More Sequel Stuff.

2009-06-29T14:22:00.004-04:00

I found some music that inspired me... (Plus it's a bonus because it's music from an epic video game >>) So here we go with more crossover sequel stuffs.

I introduced Luca's crossover, Daniel, in one of the teasers... now it's time to bring Phil's crossover into the picture.

Here we go, the beginning of chapter two:

Chapter Two Teaser

Everyone was surrounding the two returning members of the household as Jared continued explaining what he was about to do with them.

"We're not experiments," Phil insisted, primarily out of nervousness.

"It won't hurt you a bit," Jared assured. "Now that Jessie is home, she and I are going to use her psychic powers and my machines to investigate what kind of powers your Amethyst Medallion has. It's not going to hurt at all... provided you can block the images out."

"What's going to happen, exactly?" Luca asked. "Why did you strap us down in these chairs? Won't we be in trance?"

"Yes, but we don't know how volatile your powers are. So, in case you guys go ballistic and try to fire off attacks, we'll be somewhat protected."

"I don't like this idea," Phil whined. "This sounds dangerous and I don't want to do it."

"It's important," Jared insisted. "We have to know what kind of powers you two have brought along with you."

Phil scowled worriedly but said no more. He looked down at his restraints and sighed heavily. It was a bad idea. He knew it was. Something was going to happen. He felt it.

Jessie walked into the room. "I'm ready," she announced. "Are they?"

"Phil is doubtful, but Luca seems okay. Let's start with her." Jared turned to Phil. "Watch what happens with Luca, you'll see that nothing bad is going to happen to her."

Phil shook his head. "It's a bad idea, Jared. Really. You can't feel it, but I can. If you trigger her, something's going to happen..."

"You're being paranoid." Jared walked over to Luca. "Alright, Luca. We're going to induce a trance on you now."

Luca nodded. "Do whatever," she said, always fearless and ready.

Phil squirmed a little bit, highly anxious. He could feel it... why were they ignoring him? Sure, he wasn't as brave as his girlfriend... but he knew. He felt it. It almost hurt how badly he felt it. They'd bring up the past, and her destructive powers from the crossover dimension would be triggered... He laid back in the chair, pressing his back hard against it.

"Okay," Jared announced. "She's in trance. She's under our control now. It's time for us to see what kind of power she brought along."

Jessie nodded and began to glow a soft purple color. "We're going to start with how she got them..."

An image appeared on the screen. A large, beautiful palace. The night sky was cloudy and thunder rumbled in the distance.

Phil shivered a little, feeling the forces already starting to go to work. He closed his eyes tighter. He didn't want to see it. But he couldn't help but feel it -- the heat of the fire that swallowed up the palace and destroyed his girlfriend's family... the blaze that caused her permanent fear, permanent agony... the scar on her left forearm... It tortured him. How badly could it be hurting her? He heard her whining softly in the chair beside him.

"Pull her back," he murmured, pleading. "You don't know what you're doing. Pull her back. Please."

"Wait," Aaron insisted, "I want to see what happens next."

Phil yelled angrily, "It's not a movie! It's what really happened to her! Pull her back, you're going to trigger something very bad in her!"

Daniel blinked. For the first time since he'd known Phil, he never knew the young man to have a temper. Or feel anything besides a calm indifference. Seeing the burst of emotion made him realize that there was, indeed, a fighter's spirit locked somewhere deep inside of him. He also realized that if Phil was reacting this way, something was indeed going to happen.

"Stop it," he instructed his cousin, "before something does happen."

But it was too late. Phil jumped as the image on the screen suddenly disappeared, and yelped in time with everyone else as the screen exploded. He squirmed hard against his restraints, fearfully. "Pull her back, now!" He demanded.

Jared blinked and turned back towards Luca. Her eyes were closed tight and her whole body was shivering. Waves of energy emitted from her body.

"Bring her back!" Phil yelled.

Jared looked towards Jessie. "Bring her out."

Jessie shook her head in fright. "I've lost control of her..."

"I knew it," Phil cried. "You took her too far, too fast, and now you've triggered her! Have you any idea what kind of chaos you've just unleashed?"

Jared released Phil from his restraints. "Hurry! Do something! Bring her back! You must know how."

Phil shook his head. "I can't. I'm not strong enough."

Machines about the room began cracking and creaking. Any form of glass exploded abruptly and for no reason. Jared and Jessie quickly rushed everyone out of the room, shutting the door and trying to barricade the triggered powers within the confined space.

Phil walked over to Luca and gently put his hand on the side of her face. "Luca? It's Phil. Follow my voice, please? Come back to the surface. It's just an image."

He jumped back slightly when Luca turned to him and opened her eyes. They were solid black, as if her eye sockets were empty. Her voice echoed and quaked in a near demonic voice, "It's... not... just... an... image! You... don't... know..."

"I do!" He insisted. "I know what they did to you in the past. I know your fear of fire because of what they did... I know you lost your family and got forced into all of this... but that's no reason to destroy everyone that care about you now, Luca..." He shivered hard as her hand suddenly grasped his so hard he could feel his bones bending beneath the pressure. His breathing came out in shivering gasps as he tried to ignore the pain and his own fear.

A voice came from behind the door, "What's going on in there?"

Jessie turned. "Jim! No, stay out there."

Jared shook his head. "No, wait! Maybe Jim can help Phil... Jim has metaphysical powers."

Phil nodded. "Bring him in, and hurry..."

Jessie removed the chair from beneath the door and quickly opened it. In walked a young man with light red hair. His dark eyes quickly surveyed the situation, and he reached into his pocket. He absorbed a green stone into his right palm, his hair and body turning a strange green color and his eyes becoming white and red. "Okay, what's the problem?"

"We were trying to examine her powers, but we seem to have accidentally triggered a memory that triggered her chaos energies," Jared explained, trembling. "Phil has been trying to bring her back, as we've lost control of her, and he can't."

"I'm not strong enough," Phil said again. "Please help."

The pale, green teenager walked over and put two fingers on Luca's forehead. He closed his eyes and read her soul. "She's troubled and conflicted. Very damaged and highly volatile. This isn't the sort of spirit you go playing with, Jared," he scolded his cousin. "Now then, Phil... what's your power?"

Phil blinked, wondering what the significance of his abilities were. "Revival, stability..." He paused. "Calm and comforting..."

Jim smiled. "Okay. I'm going to enhance your consolation abilities with my own life force. You're only going to have thirty seconds to a minute to place a calming curse, so be quick."

Phil nodded and slid the ring onto his finger. He winced as he stared down at his other hand, which was being squeezed to the point it was about to shatter. He yelped softly as a machine three feet away erupted into flames. "Hurry!" He cried.

Jim maintained a strange degree of calmness. He placed his hands on Phil's shoulders and closed his eyes, beginning to drain his own life energy. "My force is yours," he instructed. "Go now!"

Phil felt his body quaking from the two life forces inhabiting it. He quickly grasped Luca's hand with his free hand, gripping hard and unconsciously digging his nails in. He closed his eyes tight and bowed his head, praying softly to himself as he hoped he could produce a strong enough calming curse. He felt a warm but soft energy erupting from himself and flowing into her. He opened his eyes and watched as his calming curse took effect, watching as Luca quivered, spasmed, and lapsed out into a state of unconsciousness.

"Nicely done," Jim praised. "She'll be fine now. No harm done."

Phil blinked and looked up and over his shoulder at the redheaded boy. "Thank you," he replied. "But I couldn't have done any of that without you. Who are you?"

The redhead smiled. "The name is Jim. I believe you're Phil, and I believe that we're each other's crossover."

Movie Quote.

2009-06-28T20:37:00.001-04:00

I was watching a Street Fighter movie when one of the characters said this:

I never knew how much strength a person could gain by protecting someone they love. I guess that's my special power.

It makes me happy.

2009-06-23T01:32:00.002-04:00

You know when you find yourself in a conversation that makes you both smile and get teary-eyed (or even cry) at the same time?

Where you feel your heart both warmed and broken by what you hear?

Where it makes you happy but also makes you hurt inside?

...I love and hate those instances.

All I can say is thank you for such a deep and meaningful conversation. I think I really needed it.

Thank you. So much.

Completely from the Blue.

2009-06-23T00:26:00.003-04:00

Sometimes things just hit you randomly... stop you dead in your tracks and make you wonder why, somewhere in the depths of your mind, you're daring to have such a thought.

This... is one of those moments for me.

Inability

These eyes, they see in paths so twisted
These lips, they utter words so strange
This sanity, it never truly existed
This brain has always been deranged.

And what do you have to say about me?
I've become a creature society rejected!
I'm given a label of which I'll never be free
Simply because difference is unaccepted.

Will you force me to conform?
Will you so willingly hold me down?
Are you forcing me to transform
So that I'm not just another clown?

But what if this is who I am!
What if I've embraced who I've become!
And look at you! You stamp and you slam
My thoughts down as being dumb!

Why should I dance upon your stage?
Whyever should my words come from your script?
What's the point of locking me in this cage
If all you're going to do is tear and strip

Away everything that brings me to live,
Especially if I'm not what you really want?
Stop holding on, goddamnit it, just give
Me back my life and stop all of these haunts

That make me believe that I'm so wrong--
That I'm demented, you've got me convinced--
Insisting that I'm messed up for my life long
Demanding I absorb the "advice" you've dispensed.

But your words of wisdom are so incorrect
There is no logic in a view so closed
You never bother to give an opinion respect--
Another view presented to you is simply disposed.

I hope you know this is not at all fair
And I just can't see why the negative standard
Is placed upon people who actually dare
To be different... for that, their names are slandered?

So think long and hard about where we are
And comprehend that you and I have different "stability"
Why not dare to open your eyes and see the scars
I wear simply because of your open-minded inability.

Another Sequel Teaser Piece

2009-06-18T14:01:00.004-04:00

I'm trying to get my head clear again after my first dose of my new medications sent me into a haze. So the best way I see to get my head out of the proverbial clouds? Writing another teaser piece.

This is going to be from Chapter Two of the sequel... Jim and Daniel, the Mushroom Kingdom's best Twin Bond fighters, have to train their new apprentices the art of connected battling. And while Luca is normally the difficult one, it seems that Phil is unwilling to let go of a major weakness in their way...

(And I admit I was a sucker for the friendly bonding scene at the end. Then again, I'm weird like that.)

***

"We're the best Twin Bond fighters in the entire dimension," Daniel explained with far too much pride on his voice. He sounded downright egotistical.

"That's because we're the only ones besides our crossovers," Jim sighed while rolling his eyes. He then turned to Luca and Phil and smiled calmly. "Okay, the form of connected battling is very difficult to learn. I'm not going to lie. It took Daniel and I several weeks to master it."

"Then again, we've never seen a Twin Bond on a set of people who weren't siblings," Daniel shrugged. "So we don't know what it's going to be like for you guys."

Jim nodded.

Daniel continued, "In connected battling, you often have one person doing the phyiscal fighting while the other controls the energy levels that the fighting one uses. If the person maintaining the energies, or the 'controller,' fails to do his part correctly, the one fighting, obviously the 'fighter,' will overexert himself and lose strength and stamina."

"In other words, being the controller is the harder of the two roles," Jim commented. "Trust me on this... I'm the controller between Daniel and I."

"Explain a little more how the controller works," Daniel instructed his brother.

"I was getting to it," Jim sniped. He turned to Luca and Phil, who were both listening with a remarkable amount of patience. "Okay. Like Daniel said, the controller maintains the levels of energy flowing between himself and the fighter. The controller can send little bursts of his own energy -- or his own powers even -- to the fighter if he thinks the fighter is in peril. All of the fighter's strength depends on the controller's ability to control himself."

"I don't get it," Luca said, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"If the controller can't watch the battle with a complete lack of emotion or feeling towards the fighter, then the fighter's abilities suffer. The controller has to be able to shut off all his emotions and completely disconnect from the fighter. You can't feel sympathetic towards the fighter when he gets attacked, you can't wince when he gets struck. You have to let go of your partner if you want them to make it out alive."

Luca nodded her head. "Oh, I get it now."

Phil said nothing verbally... instead, his expression told the story for him.

Daniel jumped into the large bubble-shaped dome that Jared had constructed. "I think I want to take on my crossover. I want to see just how good she thinks she is."

Luca smirked. "I've been waiting for this for a long time now. You're on!"

Jim rested his hand on his crossover's shoulder. "Okay, Phil, you're going to be the controller for this drill, and I'm going to be my brother's. Are you okay with that?"

"I guess," Phil answered with a great amount of uncertainty. He watched as his girlfriend eagerly leapt into the dome with her crossover-turned-opponent.

Jim smiled reassuringly. "It's not a real battle, Phil. It's only practice."

"But the damage is going to be real," the crossover replied dismally.

"If we don't practice, what's going to happen if you two get out in the field and run into trouble? The enemies aren't going to care about it then. C'mon, you can do this."

But I'm not willing to let her go, Phil thought with a shudder. I can't stop caring about her, even for the sake of winning a fight.

Jared closed the dome on the four players, activating the training mode. The dome turned into a desert-like arena. Luca stood with her sword in her hand, while Daniel stood in front of her, his hands in his pockets with his trademark smirk on his face. Jim stepped into a white-chalk box on the far side of the field, and both he and Daniel began glowing a silvery green.

"We're ready over here," Jim announced.

Phil inhaled deeply and stepped backwards a few paces, until he was also in a white-chalk box. He felt a shiver run through himself, then noticed he and Luca were both flickering a purplish, glimmering red. "I guess we're set over here," he declared as nonchalantly as he could.

Jared's voice came overhead. "Both sides are ready. In three... two... one..."

Daniel leapt forward as the last of the countdown expired. "Let the games begin!"

Luca easily matched his speed. "Bring it on, crossover."

Phil took a moment to look over towards his own crossover. He noticed Jim was standing straight and tall, his eyes bearing no emotion and his face without expression. He simply clenched and unclenched his left and right fists, which was obviously how the energy flows were controlled between the two brothers. Phil took a second to ponder if he could even do this, when a large white flicker of light caught his attention.

Daniel thrust a white ball of light from his hand. "C'mon, crossover, let's see what you've got!"

Luca stood her ground, her eyes narrowed and her grip tightening on her sword. Phil felt a slight pulse on his left side, determining that to be the connection telling him she was using up too much energy. He tightened his left fist a little, and saw her glow brighter. Had he done it right?

Luca spun on her heel and swung her sword like a bat, making contact with the white blast and knocking it back towards its original master. She offered no response, but instead wore a nasty smirk on her face. As the white ball launched Daniel across the arena, she rushed forward with her sword in striking position. It began to glow black.

Halfway across the arena, Luca suddenly froze where she stood. Phil felt his left side sharply cramp, and he reminded himself not to wince. He stared out towards the field, wondering had caused her to stop.

Daniel stood up, his left hand pointed at his opponent. "You thought that was going to keep me down? You may be the best in your world, but we're in mine now. And I'm gonna show you what happens to pretenders in my world..."

Daniel levitated from the ground and hovered a few feet above the arena. He raised his left arm, causing Luca to lift up involuntarily. She writhed but was unable to squirm loose.

Phil was watching, eyes widened and both fists tightly clenched. Unable to let go of his concern for her, he had blocked off all her access to their energy supplies. He glanced to Jim, who easily released his left hand and tightened his right. Daniel was in possession of all his and his brother's strength.

And he wasn't afraid to use it. He swung his left hand and opened his palm, immediately firing a white orb with his right. Luca flew helplessly through the air, taking her sword and trying to slow her rapid descent with it. The white orb connected with her, launching her into the ground below. The dust didn't even get to clear before Daniel launched himself forward with another barrage of little white orbs.

"Phil, what are you doing?" Jim yelled across the platform. "You've locked her out of the energy stream!"

Phil shivered hard, then realized what he'd done. He released his left hand. "Luca, get up!" He demanded, though sounding more panicked. "Get up and show this kid who's in control!"

Luca swung her blade upward with a violent amount of force. Daniel tumbled backwards through the air for a moment, and then regained his control. However, Luca emerged from the crater that she had created in her landing, hovering in the air and swinging her sword wildly. There was no pauses between each swing; and each one used a vast amount of her strength. Within two minutes, she was exhausted and slowly started lowering to the ground.

Daniel shook his head. "Okay, I'm bored with the silly toying." His entire body began flickering green and silver, and a large beam erupted from both his hands. It quickly swallowed Luca's figure up, and the arena felt nearly ready to implode from the amount of energy within it.

"Stop it!" Phil cried abruptly, unwilling to watch any more. "Enough is enough! Leave her alone!"

Jim clenched both his fists, blocking off his brother's access to the energy stream. He shook his head sadly at his crossover, who left his post and rushed out onto the field.

Daniel easily lowered himself to the floor. "That was easier than I thought."

Jim walked over. "Daniel, hush."

"Luca, I'm sorry," Phil said softly to her. "I just couldn't let go. I just couldn't."

Luca said nothing, instead leaning into her boyfriend's arms and lapsing into unconsciousness.

"She'll be fine," Jim reassured his crossover. "Give her time to rest and she'll be back to normal. Jared made this mode so that once one opponent lapses out, all the nasty effects immediately are cancelled. So, it's just like she did a lot of exercising and needs a nap."

Phil blinked his eyes rapidly a few times, feeling like he could cry if he didn't fight it off. He looked down at his resting girlfriend and held her tightly to himself. "Okay," he said quietly, almost to himself.

"Come on," Jim spoke in a gentle voice, "let's put her on the couch and let her sleep."

***

Phil sat on the top step of the porch, leaned against a column and staring out into the distance. At the farthest point on the horizon, he could see the lights of the city as the night gently crept down on the earth. Normally it was a sight he really enjoyed, but his mind was too far distracted to take in the simple pleasure of the coming of the night.

"Hey," a voice came from behind him. Remarkably, it was Daniel.

"Hi," Phil answered in a near whisper, still lost in his own world.

"Can I sit?" Daniel asked, walking over.

"It's your house."

"I know, but sometimes people just want to be left alone." Daniel sat down next to him. "Me of all people can understand that."

Phil made no noise in response, instead closing his eyes and leaning harder on the column.

"Don't let this get you so down, Phil," Daniel finally said softly, cautiously.

"I failed her, okay?" Phil finally declared aloud, though more to himself. "I was supposed to keep everything balanced for her, and I failed. And what happened? She got hurt."

Daniel smiled sadly. "That's why I could never be the controller."

Phil stopped in the middle of his tirade and looked at the younger boy. He'd never heard Daniel admit any kind of weakness at all. In fact, he was convinced that Daniel was sure he knew everything. It was a change, and it made him feel taken aback. "You? You, who is supposedly the best at everything?"

"We all have our weaknesses, Phil. And mine happens to be my brother."

"If I can ask, why? Jim was so easily able to disconnect from you. I saw it on his face, in his eyes. I felt it, and I was standing so far away."

Daniel looked down at his blue shoes. "Jim abandoned me when he and I were kids. He was young... he didn't mean to hurt me. Or our little sister. But he did. A lot. More than he'll ever know." He shuddered. "More than I ever want him to know."

"I'm sorry," Phil replied softly, feeling awful for having drug up such feelings.

"It's okay," Daniel said, the smirk returning to his face.

"Daniel, is it worth it?"

"What?"

"Always being the strong and brave one. Always being the one that people can count on. Is it worth it?"

Daniel quickly looked away, but not before a stray tear could be seen escaping the corner of one of his eyes. "Heavens yes."

"Don't lie." Phil shook his head. "You forget I can tell when my girlfriend is lying, and she was a rogue with no care for anyone or anything. I can tell that you, a protector with everyone's best interests at heart, aren't telling the truth."

"No, Phil. Sometimes it really isn't worth it. Because I'm not as tough as everyone believes. I chose to be the fighter between Jim and I because I was too weak to disconnect from him. Because I never thought I'd get to see my brother again, and I got this second chance... I could never bring myself to tear my emotions and love away from him."

"I think it sounds pretty tough to me," Phil said with a shrug. "He's the weak one... if he can so easily disconnect from you and not care what happens to you... that sounds weak to me."

"Maybe we shouldn't teach you and Luca the form of connected battling," Daniel finally said. "Maybe you two are best left to fight at each other's side."

"That's how we've always done it, and I couldn't ever see it being any other way."

Daniel got up. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Nobody had seen you for a while."

"I was just thinking," Phil shrugged, looking back out at the twilight.

Daniel began to walk back into the house, but stopped. Without turning or without trying to catch anyone's attention, he softly murmured, "I'm jealous of the way you and Luca are. I'm jealous at your connection."

Phil said nothing in response. He simply leaned against the column and stared out at the nighttime city, feeling the simple joy returning to him.

Crossover Sequel Teaser

2009-06-15T22:46:00.000-04:00

So I decided that for the sequel of my original crossover story... instead of maintaining two parallel dimensions... the two worlds instead will merge. The two greatest villians of each dimension "merge" together, and it'll take all four of the two worlds' protectors to bring any sort of order to their dimensions.

Anyway, here's a teaser from the first chapter... it starts somewhere in the middle of the chapter, hence why the beginning may leave most a little lost.

The transition from their own dimension into the Mushroom Kingdom was an easy trip, made easier by the fact that they were prepared for it. They easily landed on their feet in the middle of the Forest of Illusion, standing upright to look up at the sky through the canopy of leaves above.

"Luca, is it meant to be this dark?" Phil asked in an anxious voice, pointing up through the trees. "What time is it here?"

"I don't know," she replied. "I haven't gotten my stuff back. But I can tell you this..."

"...Something's definitely not right," he finished for her. "I feel it, too."

The sky above them was a strange purplish black, the clouds pulsing and rolling with a quiet violence. The air around them felt extremely heavy with some kind of spiritual force, and the woods around them were very still. The travelers looked up at the sky again, and then at each other.

"Phil... We have to get to Jared, and quickly," Luca finally said, taking command of the situation.

Phil nodded his head, more than willing to take orders at that particular moment in time. The only time he'd felt a force that chilled him to his soul was... He shuddered to think about it. No, I refuse to accept that it might be that again, he thought to himself.

The travelers held a close formation as they ventured towards their destination... the little house in Star Town.

***

Jared stood out on the porch, unconsciously gripping one of the columns as if it were the only thing he had left in his life to hold onto. Deep within his blue eyes, panic and despair danced about. His face bore no expression of which to determine a mood, but he didn't have to have any emotion written on his form -- it was etched into his aura.

He'd never had such a nightmare in his life. It had come to him just two nights before... a scene of complete bedlam. Two worlds colliding with such violence that the two worlds became "tangled" within one another, areas only accessible by hidden warp spots... Six family members taken captive, their essences locked within pendants and strewn about the new terrain. A seventh person not yet known, but soon targeted. Two great forces of evil combining into one terrifying overlord. Countless executions brought about for no reason whatsoever. The world slowly absorbed in the depths of malevolence.

It was a horrid, horrid nightmare that had him bolt upright in the dead of night nearly suffering a heart attack. Not only because it was such a dark dream -- but because his dreams always came true. Always.

His eyes looked up at the dark, rumbling sky. A thunderstorm was brewing in the heavens above. Could it be the Stars knew of the impending danger? Surely they did... the Stars knew all. Suddenly two old but surprisingly familiar voices penetrated his shield of thoughts:

"Jared!" Luca yelled out as she emerged from the woods.

"What's going on?" Phil asked as he walked up to his girlfriend's side.

For a minute, Jared couldn't speak. He didn't think he'd ever see his otherworldly friends again. He stared at them as if they were the dead reborn, his mouth slightly agape with the pleasantly shocked expression of surprise. He ran forward and embraced both of his friends.

"Luca! Phil! You two are back!" He cried. "How? And not to be rude, but why?"

"We had a dream back in our world," Luca explained.

Phil was busy scanning the area silently with his eyes, a very uncomfortable expression of concern and fear on his face.

"That if we didn't come back here to help, both this world and our own world would completely crumble. In the dream, the ground was turning to dust and falling into an empty void... we were trying to outrun it, but the faster we ran, the faster the world chased us." Luca stiffened her spine a bit, refusing to show her dread of the dream's recalling. "We were told where we could find a hidden pathway with which we could get ourselves here... and here we are."

Jared listened intently, nodding his head every now and again. So, they'd both had a vision of it, too. That made him feel extremely nauseous. "I dreamt, too, of our worlds. But in my dream, they seemed to have merged to form an entirely new landscape. Some kind of extreme evil is about to fall over our worlds, and I think it's going to take all of us working together to bring peace back."

"Luca," Phil finally spoke up, "I think our abilities from our world transferred over to here."

"Why do you think that?" She asked of her boyfriend, noting a rather odd tone in his voice.

He pointed towards the back of the house. "I know I don't have the abilities from here yet, but I swear on my life I just saw something -- somebody -- sneaking towards the house. And they didn't like the fact that I saw them." He was still relatively unacquainted with the ability to sense and see beyond the living realm. It still disturbed him quite a bit, but he was learning to cope. If Luca could handle it and stand strong, so could he. He had to be tough... he had to be able to protect her. There was no other choice.

Luca snatched her sword from her side, causing Jared to jump back slightly. He'd never seen anyone using a sword... a "benefit" of living in a more futuristic dimension, if a person would call it that. She took half a stone from her pocket and placed it in the handle of her sword, clenching it tight as it transformed into a blade of dark purple fire.

"Check it, you were right!" She praised her boyfriend as their set of abilities activated.

"What are you doing?" He asked quickly.

"Stopping whatever you just saw before somebody gets hurt."

The two young men watched as the lone female leapt forward with amazing speed. They both stood in a strange silence for a moment, simply watching her.

"She's still the same old Luca," Jared murmured softly.

"Indeed," Phil replied. "Now let's catch up before she gets in over her head."

"Just like normal?"

"Just like normal."

They ran to catch up to Luca, hoping that she'd not gotten too deep into trouble before they got there. Up ahead they heard the metallic clanging of her sword against something, the entire back side of the house a blazing amethyst hue. They turned the corner and both stopped dead in their tracks... but for different reasons.

Jared had never seen anything like it.

Phil had seen it way too many times, and was immensely disturbed.

Luca yelped with effort and thrust her flaming blade forward, spinning in a graceful motion that successfully slashed the creature in half. She flicked the blade again, launching the defeated creature's head into the air. A few seconds later it fell back down, and she easily caught it in her hand.

It was a skeleton's skull.

"Wh... what was that?" Jared asked, his voice quivering in distress.

Phil didn't answer, but instead stared at the skull as if it could pop back to life at any moment.

Luca walked over. "I know I don't have to say this to Phil, but Jared, you're not informed."

"What?" Jared asked. "What do you not need to say to Phil?"

Phil answered softly, somberly, "That there's more where this came from."

"What do you guys mean?"

"They attack in packs," Phil explained. "Normally no less than five or ten."

"What are those?"

"Our enemies from back home." Luca responded, dropping the skull on the ground and crushing it beneath her foot. She and Phil both stared down at the bone fragments with a strange expression upon their face. Jared had never seen it before... such a look of hidden fears and forced strengths. A grave expression symbolizing just how serious the threat was. Even Phil, who was easily more anxious and timid than his girlfriend, was braver than anybody he'd ever seen. For the both of them to show such despair and distress... Jared wanted so badly for it to be a nightmare. He wanted nothing more than to wake up in his bed and laugh at himself for having such a dream.

"We've been followed," Phil finally declared slowly.

Luca nodded, and then narrowed her eyes as they refilled with their typical fiery courage. Only the flame burned stronger now. "Then we'll teach them for butting in where they don't belong."

A new voice entered the conversation. Young, masculine, gentle yet full of bravery. "If they come in packs of five or better, you're going to need help."

The three turned around to find themselves looking at what looked to be a very young boy. He was very short and very frail in stature, and his clothes seemed to easily be two sizes too big. His dirty blonde hair seemed like it never was trimmed nor ever saw a brush. But beneath his bushy bangs, his light green eyes shown with the strength of a full grown man.

"Who are you?" Luca questioned, seeming a bit amused by the boy.

The boy walked over and grinned easily. "Show some respect for one of the greatest heroes of the Mushroom Kingdom, will you?"

Phil blinked. "You are...?" He couldn't make himself finish the question.

Jared smiled somewhat. "Luca? Phil? I'd like you to meet my cousin... the third Star Child of legend... my cousin, Daniel."

Lyrics Again.

2009-06-15T02:44:00.002-04:00

I happened across an old song I used to like... and these lyrics really struck me. Hard.

God, don't you know I live with a ton of regret?
'Cause I used to move you in a way that you've never known
But then I accused you in a way that you've never known
But you hurt me in a way that I've never known...

Break Me Shake Me by Savage Garden.

I'm coming down off a really bad manic episode, and probably should try to sleep now.

I just couldn't get those lyrics off my mind.

Yep.

2009-06-14T18:59:00.005-04:00

Giving It Back

She digs through the costumes in the chest
Looking for the one she's meant to be
Memorizes her lines -- wants to be the best
Eyes her reflection and says, "This is me."

Looks at the trinkets she holds dear
Reflects back upon all of their history
Blinks and struggles against all the tears
Says to herself, "This will never be."

She cradles them in a sheet of silken white
And locks them away within a tiny coffin
Buries them deep and proceeds now to fight
A nightmare that she had suffered often

In the last few nights, a dream of expiration
An image that things were falling all to hell
She fell to the brinks of purest desperation
But found that nobody cared to make her well.

With downpouring eyes that flood the floor
Seeking the sanctuary of her dark little room
She made a decision to lock the door
And wait to succumb to all of the gloom.

Within the nightstand beside her bed
All the instruments she would ever need
To kill the voices inside of her head--
To send them all away forever, indeed.

After making her choice, she lays in wait
Nestled in the warm comfort of her sheets
Happily accepting this most morbid of fate
And waiting for her heart to stop its beat.

She closes her eyes and whispers her apology
For taking his time and throwing him so off track
And with her last ragged breath remaining, she
Told him, "Here is your life. I'm giving it back."

EDIT: I was reminded of my old poem, Just a Toy, a short while after writing this one. Although they are relatively unrelated, they're both fitting.

Ironic.

2009-06-13T02:16:00.003-04:00

I happened across my horoscope for the day... and it said this:

At this particular moment in time, it will be far easier for you to get mad and stay that way than for you to forgive and forget; but that doesn't mean it's the best thing to do. In fact, if you're really still interested in keeping things together between you and the person you've been feuding with, why not lay all your cards out on the table, be totally honest and get the problem solved once and for all?

How ironic.

Not the Same.

2009-06-12T19:19:00.003-04:00

I don't think I'm the same any more.

I don't feel the same way I used to about some things.

Is it that things are different, or is that I'm different?

Things just aren't the same any more.

And I wish I knew why.

Questions.

2009-06-11T03:03:00.003-04:00

Normally I'm cryptic or vague, or normally I write a poem or short story about my feelings when I'm stressed.

But not this time.

Instead, I'm laying it all out on the line... blunt, honest, direct, straight-forward. Even if it's going to hurt.

...In fact, I know it's going to hurt.

But maybe it's time I stopped being so pathetic.

Disclaimer aside...

Ever since Saturday night, my head has not been on straight. On Saturday night, all the emotional problems I tried to hide from my family came into the light. It's been plaguing me ever since... not because I'm angry at my family for caring, but because I'm angry at myself for slipping.

I started confiding in my closer friends about the situation I've gotten myself into. The concept that I might need to seek therapy and the concept that I may be prescribed medications in an attempt to quell my severe instabilities. Every one of the people I have confided my situation to have told me that I would benefit from the help.

Every one except one person: My closest companion.

At first, I wasn't up to the idea of seeking assistance. I was convinced that I was fine and could handle it on my own. But I started reflecting back on the past two weeks. In the past two weeks alone, I had seven different episodes of severe, random depression... three events of minor self-harm... and one attempt at suicide. Eleven episodes in fourteen days. It's a frightening number. This, and the coaching of my closer friends and family, have me considering the benefits of seeking help.

And yet this condition threatens to tear me from my closest companion... from someone I thought was my soulmate. Someone who means more to me than anyone...

I'm losing that, all because I'm contemplating counselling.

Is it really that bad... am I really that fucked up... that if I make this decision and go through with it... I'll be undesirable? I'll be some sort of failure -- a reject of society? Hell... maybe I am a reject, and have been trying to convince myself of complete and utter nonsense these past few years. I'm worth something... what a joke.

I have problems with my emotions. I am easily triggered into dangerously low "rages" of depression that can easily spiral me into panic attacks, manic episodes of extremely horrifying hallucinations, or worse. I tend to fluctuate moods at an unhealthy pace, and can go from hyperly happy to suicidally sad in the drop of a hat... for no reason at all. Sometimes my episodes follow me into sleep and cause me to suffer nasty nightmares or episodes of night terrors that leave me afraid to sleep.

My family walk on eggshells around me in efforts to try and keep me from falling into these episodes. I get treated differently because I behave differently. Can I help it? No. Am I proud to admit it? Not at all. It's embarrassing and frustrating. It makes me feel frightening and fragile all at once.

These past few days have left me walking a very fine line. In theory, I've become a ticking time-bomb. I'm on the brink of another severe episode, and I can feel it.

And yes, I know that counselling may not help. I know they'll undoubtedly put me on some sort of medications to try and remedy my situation. I understand that my previous doctors misdiagnosed me and mistakenly put me on the wrong medications (and also mixed a very dangerous set of substances together accidentally). But what if this time they get it right?

What if this time they can fix me? What if I could finally have some sort of stability in my life? What if I could finally be free of the fear of "when is the next episode going to happen?"

I could be a better daughter, sister, girlfriend, friend... I could feel better. I could...

I could be better.

If a friend of mine told me that s/he was going to undergo something so that they could improve the way they felt about themselves... so that they could improve their health and life... I would be behind them 110%, no questions asked. I wouldn't hesitate. I wouldn't blink. I wouldn't think twice. I'd do my best to be supportive and stand behind them while they went through the process. I'd get to watch them change and grow, and feel better...

I was taught that if you care about somebody, you want them to feel good about themselves. You want them to be happy. You want them to feel their best. I always thought that if you cared about somebody, whatever made them happy made you happy. I was taught to believe that if you care, you give unconditional support no matter what. I always believed that if you cared, you wouldn't turn your back. You wouldn't start treating that person differently. You wouldn't refuse to open your mind to the possibilities.

I guess I don't understand, and maybe I never will.

I guess what makes me the saddest of all is that I'm being an optimist in a situation that has long since proven my optimism to be worthless. I still wait up late at nights. I still keep my phone on at full volume while I sleep so I won't miss any incoming messages. I still keep my laptop open at all hours with my messengers running and my volume at full so that I'm not closing the door. And yet... at the end of every day, I'm the one asking myself, "Why?" while I'm trying to pick myself up off the floor.

I could always close the door... I could always turn off my messengers -- hell, I could always turn off my laptop and actually sleep in the dark for a change. I could always mute my cell phone so that the only sound I hear is my alarm in the morning. But what good would it do? As selfish as it sounds, I'd only be hurting myself. I'd feel guilty about closing the door and I'd feel guilty about causing somebody to hurt and feel depressed. I'm tragically flawed: I will care so much about another person that I will take whatever treatment they give me -- good or bad -- and will loyally be waiting for them at the start of every new day.

And, goddamnit all, people are taking advantage of that.

But the biggest question that burns in my mind is this...

If counselling and medication could make me feel better about myself, and make me happier in my life...

...Why are so you against it?

Never Will Be.

2009-06-09T18:49:00.002-04:00

It's probably for the best, anyway.

Here. Have a poem. I'm too upset to bother elaborating on anything else.

Never Will Be

Once upon a really distant time
There was a future that existed...
But it was before this mind of mine
Became so sick and twisted.

There's always something in the way;
There's never an end to our sorrow.
Isn't it wrong when every single day
We're praying for a better tomorrow?

Is it that we're both just pretending
Playing this game for the chance to win
A prize that has got us both spending
All our time wondering exactly when

The dream in our mind becomes reality;
The day that all the dreams come true...
But now the dream tortures relentlessly
And has turned us both to blue.

Perhaps we're holding on too tight
I guess we've both gotten so blind
That we think all these nasty fights
Keep us from leaving the other behind.

All of these wars have left me battered
My desire to believe is about to run out.
I feel as if our morale has been shattered--
Will we make it? I admit I have my doubts.

The depth of our feuding has begun to show
And perhaps it's time I finally set you free.
All of our sparring has ultimately let me know
That what almost was... never will be.

A Short Confessional.

2009-06-08T22:05:00.002-04:00

I may be put into counseling.

I'm probably going to be put on new medications.

Stabilizers, and "Round Two" with antidepressants.

Hell, they may even put me on something to quell my ADHD.

It's a lot more complicated than that, but I'm just far too tired and distressed to pour out the details right now. I'll probably elaborate in the morning.

I'm extremely distressed.

And a bit scared.