I'd like to quote a person I hold dear in my heart.
"I don't know."
I don't know if I should be giving in to the world around me, and forget who I am.
I don't know if I should be preparing for a break up because long distance doesn't work.
I don't know if I should be breaking up currently because I'm too much for another human being.
I don't know if I should isolate myself because I can't identify truth from lying.
I don't know if I should being talking to someone about what goes on in my head.
I don't know if I should be getting papers for emancipation.
I don't know if I should let myself sleep.
I don't know if I should just kill myself off so I don't have to deal with anything.
I don't know if I should being doing what I love or doing what makes sense.
I don't know if I should be myself around others because I can't determine if I'll bring them down or lift them up.
I don't know if I can get my life in order.
I don't know if I should try to look on the bright side because I'm scared I'll get to the point where I can't find one.
I don't know if I should try paying for college through scholarships or just face the facts.
I don't know if I actually want to go through life or not.
I don't know if I should start taking meds.
I don't know if I should try being beautiful or accept its impossible.
I don't know if I can believe in anything in this world.
I DON'T KNOW.
And I'm done trying to know.
Sunday, March 8, 2015
Sunday, March 1, 2015
What to Write
What do you write about when you feel nothing?
When your day was just eh, and completely uninspiring.
It wasn't a bad day. No yelling. Not too much depression.
Though it wasn't good either.
Sure you laughed, But you were really just going through the motions.
But now sitting at my computer and wanting to write I wonder when it will all stop.
When will I finally step up and make everything memorable.
Am I just going to wake up tomorrow and change my life?
Even if I did wake up tomorrow wanting to change my life it would wear off.
How do I make every day memorable?
My thoughts -
Step 1: Buy A Camera. Take at least one picture each day so you remember every single one. Write stories about it. Do something.
Step 2: Set Goals.
Step 3: Get off your lazy ass and do more with your life.
Step 4: Care less about others. Not in an insensitive way, but don't let them define you. Don't depend on anyone.
Step 5: Make a legit bucket list, and make goals and achieve them one by one.
Step 6: Die.
P.S. - If anyone tries to get in your way and prevent you making the most of life. Leave them behind. Life is too short to care about what other people think.
Every time I want to change my life it fades. I go back into the motions and am too lazy to get off my ass and live. Though you see time doesn't wait for people to get off their ass. Time continues and eats away at you until your all old a decrepit, and look back on all the things you wish you did.
Though there is a line. If I get too caught up in making everything work, I miss the times where sitting on my ass benefits me. Instead of being too busy to have a random hang out with friends, I have no schedule and can spend the day with them.
Now I must bring up the other possibility that came up in my head. What if I don't know how to work towards something I want. You know, no one ever tells you how life should be lived. Not that thats a bad thing, but I feel as though there is some certain way that no one knows about. Being too loud with your opinion and life just seems wrong. Some how I feel like some lifestyle has been planted in my head.
Though maybe. Just maybe. I can start living life the way I want to.
When your day was just eh, and completely uninspiring.
It wasn't a bad day. No yelling. Not too much depression.
Though it wasn't good either.
Sure you laughed, But you were really just going through the motions.
But now sitting at my computer and wanting to write I wonder when it will all stop.
When will I finally step up and make everything memorable.
Am I just going to wake up tomorrow and change my life?
Even if I did wake up tomorrow wanting to change my life it would wear off.
How do I make every day memorable?
My thoughts -
Step 1: Buy A Camera. Take at least one picture each day so you remember every single one. Write stories about it. Do something.
Step 2: Set Goals.
Step 3: Get off your lazy ass and do more with your life.
Step 4: Care less about others. Not in an insensitive way, but don't let them define you. Don't depend on anyone.
Step 5: Make a legit bucket list, and make goals and achieve them one by one.
Step 6: Die.
P.S. - If anyone tries to get in your way and prevent you making the most of life. Leave them behind. Life is too short to care about what other people think.
Every time I want to change my life it fades. I go back into the motions and am too lazy to get off my ass and live. Though you see time doesn't wait for people to get off their ass. Time continues and eats away at you until your all old a decrepit, and look back on all the things you wish you did.
Though there is a line. If I get too caught up in making everything work, I miss the times where sitting on my ass benefits me. Instead of being too busy to have a random hang out with friends, I have no schedule and can spend the day with them.
Now I must bring up the other possibility that came up in my head. What if I don't know how to work towards something I want. You know, no one ever tells you how life should be lived. Not that thats a bad thing, but I feel as though there is some certain way that no one knows about. Being too loud with your opinion and life just seems wrong. Some how I feel like some lifestyle has been planted in my head.
Though maybe. Just maybe. I can start living life the way I want to.
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
Face It
As I open my eyes to the curdling sound of my alarm clock,
There are three things I think of,
My dream fading away fast into the dark corners of my mind,
How the chilling air tears at my covers,
And you.
Triggers of you make me feel like I'm in a war,
Near to triumph but not quite sure it will come.
Things may pop up here and there, but I don't care,
At this moment with you I have no doubt, no fears, and no pain.
You heal the wounds I can't sew myself.
But something that has been a punch in my face is,
I can't stop time.
No matter how much I wish to press pause,
And get some good sleep for once,
Or keep that kiss close to my heart,
L stands for life not luxury.
And love?
Please,
Love got distracted by a butterfly,
Ran into Home,
And forgot the way back,
But Love didn't need to remember anyways.
Though it left quite the mark.
It left me drowning,
Gasping for the sweet air of peace.
Clawing at it's memory,
And searching in everything for that feeling I once had.
I may get close every now and then,
But it will always leave.
Whether it's down the hall,
Or countless miles away,
It will always leave.
I thought my heart was in flames when,
I danced with a similar feeling,
Always on my toes wondering what steps were next,
Fumbling when trying to impress,
Until I fell flat on my face.
But my heart has now descended,
Into something deeper in the Earth than Hell.
I have now become Cinderella with a timer,
But the glass slipper never came.
But don't worry,
I'll be fine.
I've been yearning to become the background music once again,
I've learned my lesson.
I will remain the elevator music that creates awkward silences,
That song at the dance that's too boring,
But not slow enough for romance.
That's me.
My broken record will continue to play,
Though the scratches are heavy.
It's worth it.
Each scratch may make you cringe,
But it has grown on me.
I stumble,
I fall,
But that's how I live.
The truth hurts,
Face it.
There are three things I think of,
My dream fading away fast into the dark corners of my mind,
How the chilling air tears at my covers,
And you.
Triggers of you make me feel like I'm in a war,
Near to triumph but not quite sure it will come.
Things may pop up here and there, but I don't care,
At this moment with you I have no doubt, no fears, and no pain.
You heal the wounds I can't sew myself.
But something that has been a punch in my face is,
I can't stop time.
No matter how much I wish to press pause,
And get some good sleep for once,
Or keep that kiss close to my heart,
L stands for life not luxury.
And love?
Please,
Love got distracted by a butterfly,
Ran into Home,
And forgot the way back,
But Love didn't need to remember anyways.
Though it left quite the mark.
It left me drowning,
Gasping for the sweet air of peace.
Clawing at it's memory,
And searching in everything for that feeling I once had.
I may get close every now and then,
But it will always leave.
Whether it's down the hall,
Or countless miles away,
It will always leave.
I thought my heart was in flames when,
I danced with a similar feeling,
Always on my toes wondering what steps were next,
Fumbling when trying to impress,
Until I fell flat on my face.
But my heart has now descended,
Into something deeper in the Earth than Hell.
I have now become Cinderella with a timer,
But the glass slipper never came.
But don't worry,
I'll be fine.
I've been yearning to become the background music once again,
I've learned my lesson.
I will remain the elevator music that creates awkward silences,
That song at the dance that's too boring,
But not slow enough for romance.
That's me.
My broken record will continue to play,
Though the scratches are heavy.
It's worth it.
Each scratch may make you cringe,
But it has grown on me.
I stumble,
I fall,
But that's how I live.
The truth hurts,
Face it.
Sunday, February 22, 2015
Dreams
As we grow up we are told that we can be whatever we want.
Were encouraged to dream and pursue whatever we can think of.
Our imagination is our limit.
But slowly our dreams melt into shadows that hang over like clouds and rain on us.
We become pressured and our once diamond selves become overdone.
The boy that loves you and wipes your tears evolves into the cheating heartless worm.
Your best friends come and go changing like a bipolar disorder.
A family raised to be a safety net becomes the people swinging your tightrope.
Leaving nothing but you, a mere set of walking gears,
And your heart, which has slowly been drowning in black ink,
Exploding every now and then to spill out a messy set of letters,
Because guess what my angel, you don't have enough control for a pen.
Your hands are too shaky, and your thoughts too corrupted.
You must feel whole with others words in their songs of truth,
Or the compliments that have hidden knifes.
But angel you can't give up, you simply can't.
You see, you have a boy that wipes your tears,
And that's all you could ever dream of.
You posses a best friend no matter how much differing of when and who.
You have a roof over your head.
And near to most important,
You let words envelope you that make you feel.
The ones that make you cry, make you sway.
Never forget the ones that make your thoughts get swept away into the dumpster,
As you let out your secret love of dance and your dream to sing,
And create the most pure beauty you have ever witnessed.
So raise your head up angel, because when someone on the outside won't give up,
You got to realize that sometimes the suffering clouds the sun.
Were encouraged to dream and pursue whatever we can think of.
Our imagination is our limit.
But slowly our dreams melt into shadows that hang over like clouds and rain on us.
We become pressured and our once diamond selves become overdone.
The boy that loves you and wipes your tears evolves into the cheating heartless worm.
Your best friends come and go changing like a bipolar disorder.
A family raised to be a safety net becomes the people swinging your tightrope.
Leaving nothing but you, a mere set of walking gears,
And your heart, which has slowly been drowning in black ink,
Exploding every now and then to spill out a messy set of letters,
Because guess what my angel, you don't have enough control for a pen.
Your hands are too shaky, and your thoughts too corrupted.
You must feel whole with others words in their songs of truth,
Or the compliments that have hidden knifes.
But angel you can't give up, you simply can't.
You see, you have a boy that wipes your tears,
And that's all you could ever dream of.
You posses a best friend no matter how much differing of when and who.
You have a roof over your head.
And near to most important,
You let words envelope you that make you feel.
The ones that make you cry, make you sway.
Never forget the ones that make your thoughts get swept away into the dumpster,
As you let out your secret love of dance and your dream to sing,
And create the most pure beauty you have ever witnessed.
So raise your head up angel, because when someone on the outside won't give up,
You got to realize that sometimes the suffering clouds the sun.
Monday, February 2, 2015
Perspective
Life is all about perspective.
Sad thing is, perspective likes to have fun.
And sometimes perspective doesn't know where to draw the line.
Growing up we begin to realize that the things we think aren't what others think. We realize the world isn't just our neighborhood. That people can have a different opinion on something that is obviously a fact to you.
Recently I've run into more situations like this.
Some admirable.
Some over respected by being compared to the scum of the earth.
For one. I know someone who puts so much love into family. He tells his parents everything and looks to them for help. He cares so deeply for each one of them, and leaving them is a pure sadness. His home is kind and understanding. Filled with imperfection, but yet an ideal family. Merely because they show their love instead of thinking voicing it is enough.
See, I've heard of these kinds of families, but I never knew they were real.
As I face my own family and see nothing but pain, and sadness I immediately want to run. Find something happy. Though as I talk to my friend he insists to not give up hope.
I can't tell you how many times my mind has played catch with this object wondering if this could be true or if it's because he was put in this kind of family so he believes that every family is naturally like his.
On a sadder note. I mentioned my family.
Perspective is definitely crucial in my family. Everyone's perspective is blindfolded, put in a box, and shipped to the bermuda triangle. No one assuming that another person has feelings. Words and actions speak so loud that it all forms into one I hate you that has made me deaf from empathy.
This one minded heartless perspective has torn something that is supposed to be so special and important to hundreds and thousand of pieces. Fighting. Tears. Depression. They all walk through the halls here. Debating if they should over take us all with their emotion, or only posses one so the rest can laugh or force them into becoming a pariah, because human nature is the devil of them all.
Sad thing is, perspective likes to have fun.
And sometimes perspective doesn't know where to draw the line.
Growing up we begin to realize that the things we think aren't what others think. We realize the world isn't just our neighborhood. That people can have a different opinion on something that is obviously a fact to you.
Recently I've run into more situations like this.
Some admirable.
Some over respected by being compared to the scum of the earth.
For one. I know someone who puts so much love into family. He tells his parents everything and looks to them for help. He cares so deeply for each one of them, and leaving them is a pure sadness. His home is kind and understanding. Filled with imperfection, but yet an ideal family. Merely because they show their love instead of thinking voicing it is enough.
See, I've heard of these kinds of families, but I never knew they were real.
As I face my own family and see nothing but pain, and sadness I immediately want to run. Find something happy. Though as I talk to my friend he insists to not give up hope.
I can't tell you how many times my mind has played catch with this object wondering if this could be true or if it's because he was put in this kind of family so he believes that every family is naturally like his.
On a sadder note. I mentioned my family.
Perspective is definitely crucial in my family. Everyone's perspective is blindfolded, put in a box, and shipped to the bermuda triangle. No one assuming that another person has feelings. Words and actions speak so loud that it all forms into one I hate you that has made me deaf from empathy.
This one minded heartless perspective has torn something that is supposed to be so special and important to hundreds and thousand of pieces. Fighting. Tears. Depression. They all walk through the halls here. Debating if they should over take us all with their emotion, or only posses one so the rest can laugh or force them into becoming a pariah, because human nature is the devil of them all.
Sunday, February 1, 2015
Who Knows?
The other day I went out to dinner with my family. As usual I stared out the window with my headphones in, blocking out everything around me and merely pondering the meaning of life.
As I sat there we pulled onto the freeway and I began to look at all the people driving to who knows where.
I wondered, what their stories were and suddenly I was making up a story for everyone I saw.
Maybe a mom going to pick up her kid and friends from the mall.
Maybe a dad coming home from work. Speeding a little bit because he wanted to see his kids before bedtime.
Maybe a girl going to see her long distance boyfriend she hasn't seen in a month.
Then, I saw this girl swaying out the line getting close to the wall, I'm sure it was texting or a little bit of drowsy driving, but my mind immediately went into a downward spiral.
Maybe it was a girl who was contemplating running into the concrete median because she just didn't care anymore, and wanted it to be over.
Maybe this man was going to cheat on his wife.
Maybe this woman just had a terrible fight with her husband and drove away because she couldn't handle it.
Maybe that guy just got let go from his job.
Maybe this girl just lost on of her parents and is driving to his funeral.
You never know what could be going on in others lives. I sat and realized this, and it made me wonder what terrible things had happened in this world to people.
And then a thought occurred to me.
What do people think when they look at me. Could they possibly guess me in a glance?
Some depressed looking chick staring out a window as her family conversed behind her.
Was she a stubborn bitch?
Was she the outcast in the family?
Who knows?
As I sat there we pulled onto the freeway and I began to look at all the people driving to who knows where.
I wondered, what their stories were and suddenly I was making up a story for everyone I saw.
Maybe a mom going to pick up her kid and friends from the mall.
Maybe a dad coming home from work. Speeding a little bit because he wanted to see his kids before bedtime.
Maybe a girl going to see her long distance boyfriend she hasn't seen in a month.
Then, I saw this girl swaying out the line getting close to the wall, I'm sure it was texting or a little bit of drowsy driving, but my mind immediately went into a downward spiral.
Maybe it was a girl who was contemplating running into the concrete median because she just didn't care anymore, and wanted it to be over.
Maybe this man was going to cheat on his wife.
Maybe this woman just had a terrible fight with her husband and drove away because she couldn't handle it.
Maybe that guy just got let go from his job.
Maybe this girl just lost on of her parents and is driving to his funeral.
You never know what could be going on in others lives. I sat and realized this, and it made me wonder what terrible things had happened in this world to people.
And then a thought occurred to me.
What do people think when they look at me. Could they possibly guess me in a glance?
Some depressed looking chick staring out a window as her family conversed behind her.
Was she a stubborn bitch?
Was she the outcast in the family?
Who knows?
Friday, January 16, 2015
When
When I was a kid I went to school not have showering for a week, because for some reason I hated it. My mother would finally make me take a shower, and I groaned all the way downstairs into my bathroom.
When I was a kid I got good grades (not like it was that hard), read all the time, and did my homework instantly as I got home from school.
When I was a kid I believed what they told me and thought I could be anything I wanted to be.
When I was a kid I was the snotty runt of the family. The tattletale. Going to my mom about every move my older sisters made.
When I was kid I punched my friend in the face, made multiple of them cry, and was the biggest bitch you could ever meet for only being elementary school.
When I was a kid I was a mama's girl. Even though I was terrible my mom encouraged who I was.
Now, I don't just see clouds. I don't just see stars. I'm not talking about all that science crap.
I evolved into a dreamer. Someone who actually cares about other peoples feelings. Though obviously I still make mistakes.
I evolved into a messed up kid with depression, and eyeliner that covers my eyes preventing people to look into my soul because the pain inside may crush their existence completely.
My parents wish me to go back to the way I was.
"I know the true you is inside, and I want to bring it back out."
That's what they say.
You know what that is?
Complete and utter denial.
Their too stupid to faced the fact that I've changed.
Even though I was happier back then and didn't have a care in the world I would never go back.
As blissful as oblivion is, I'm glad I know the real world. I'm glad I've seen trials that overcome me and the people I love. Because guess what. Every single one of those people are still here today and they are so much stronger then who they were as kids.
Yes, over and over the trials seemed way to big for a simple teenager to prevail. Though it's gotten very rough. It's in the past.
I'm not sure what I'm trying to say. But I guess I just need to get this out.
You know words can get to people in a way nothing else can. Whether it's music or poetry or a book. It hits a place in your heart that everything else just skims over.
I love words.
When I was a kid I got good grades (not like it was that hard), read all the time, and did my homework instantly as I got home from school.
When I was a kid I believed what they told me and thought I could be anything I wanted to be.
When I was a kid I was the snotty runt of the family. The tattletale. Going to my mom about every move my older sisters made.
When I was kid I punched my friend in the face, made multiple of them cry, and was the biggest bitch you could ever meet for only being elementary school.
When I was a kid I was a mama's girl. Even though I was terrible my mom encouraged who I was.
Now, I don't just see clouds. I don't just see stars. I'm not talking about all that science crap.
I evolved into a dreamer. Someone who actually cares about other peoples feelings. Though obviously I still make mistakes.
I evolved into a messed up kid with depression, and eyeliner that covers my eyes preventing people to look into my soul because the pain inside may crush their existence completely.
My parents wish me to go back to the way I was.
"I know the true you is inside, and I want to bring it back out."
That's what they say.
You know what that is?
Complete and utter denial.
Their too stupid to faced the fact that I've changed.
Even though I was happier back then and didn't have a care in the world I would never go back.
As blissful as oblivion is, I'm glad I know the real world. I'm glad I've seen trials that overcome me and the people I love. Because guess what. Every single one of those people are still here today and they are so much stronger then who they were as kids.
Yes, over and over the trials seemed way to big for a simple teenager to prevail. Though it's gotten very rough. It's in the past.
I'm not sure what I'm trying to say. But I guess I just need to get this out.
You know words can get to people in a way nothing else can. Whether it's music or poetry or a book. It hits a place in your heart that everything else just skims over.
I love words.
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