Drifting
What I am about to write was written to Drifting (Lyrics to follow). I feel it is important to know the lyrics to this song before understanding my mindset (For some more than others). I also find it ironic that it mentions a raindrop. But then again, most of you won't understand that, so forget I said it. If anyone wants the song, feel free to contact me. I'm easy enough to find.
Drifting - 4 Non Blondes
What a wonderful hesitation
who would bear to feel sorry for me
dropped another pill just to calm me
collapsed to my knees and fell fast into sleep
there I was drifting
way out into the sunshine
expecting to crash but I'm tied to a string
look at me I'm a tangled puppet
I might be a mess but I sure can survive
find myself awake counting sad days
1-2-3 that's too many for me
dropped another pill just to find me
I reached for my hand but it was already there
then I started believin'
that I fell out of a tiny raindrop
that lost its way when it decided to roam
chasing me was a hungry dweller
but I had escaped it by pretending to die
come follow me
you won't expect the illusion you'll see
it's my imagination
hand me your eyes
I will put them in front of mine
you'll see a little better
you'll see a little better
what a wonderful destination
where I am now
I can no longer see
dropped another pill just to kill me
collapsed to my knees and fell fast into sleep
there I was drifting
way out into the sunshine
expecting to crash but I'm tied to a string
look at me I'm a tangled puppet
I might be a mess but I'm sure can survive
but I had escaped it by pretending to die
Drifting
This is a simple story of a girl. Just a silly little girl with an extraordinary story. Well, more extraordinary than most. But to those who count in her little world, the story is as plain as could be. So plain that this story probably shouldn't be written. But silly little girls do silly little things. Silly little girls, for example, tell silly little boys silly little stories about silly little things. And such silly little girls expect things. They have dreams, hopes and intuitions. Sometimes they even have visions. Silly little girl. Happiness doesn't exist. Silly little girl. People could never understand your silly little ways.
And this story is indeed the silly ramblings of a stupid, silly little girl.
It's funny how the sunrise is always so beautiful. So beautiful that one would dream to share it with someone. The sunset, too, is beautiful. But as beautiful as it is, it brings the promise of night. And night, though quiet, brings out what we want least. Most people, when dusk becomes night, know that the sun will rise again. They do not worry or stumble along through the dark, because they know if they just stand still long enough, the sun will come and beauty will once again engulf and kill off the darkness.
But what if the sun isn't what you're waiting for? The sun rises and falls. It comes and goes and comes again. Like clockwork, I suppose. But for all the hours of beauty, there are assured hours of darkness. I grow weary of the sun. It brings me nothing but the promise that it will leave me once again. I want the moon. The moon is the only light in the dark. But even when day comes, if you look hard enough, there it is, right there. When you need it most, it's waiting to guide you. Its light is not as powerful, nor are its directions. But it's there. It isn't like the sun. The moon grows weak, and sometimes it can't be seen because it is overpowered by the sun. But it's always there, even when going through its own dark moments. Even when its struggling against the power of the sun. The moon won't leave me alone.
Why aren't you the moon? Why must you just be another sun? You are so much more than that.
These moments I find I have a forced sense of clarity. My mind automatically scans everything that's ever existed, and everything that could. I see so many things now. What a curse it is to see these things. I'm tired now. So tired of trying. But I keep up, I must get up, I must try again, I must I must I must I must...
Who the fuck am I kidding? I can't do this forever. I can't see this, I can't know these things, I don't want to see it, I don't I don't I don't...
God. I sound like a fucking emo kid. And you know what? Maybe I am an emo kid. Maybe things go wrong just so I can say, "Hey, look at me. I'm a fucking emo kid again."
Maybe my standards are too high.
Or too low.
I'm not really sure.
Am I a bad person now? Am I what they thought I was? Can I ever outrun these labels? Will I ever see an answer? Or is that just too much to ask?
I ask too many questions, don't I?
These questions don't have answers, I know. You can't give them to me, and I lost track of where I was, so I don't know how to answer them myself. Love? What the fuck is love? Because I know that love, so far, has been a lot of tearing and breaking.
Compromise? Am I fucking stupid or what? I compromise my soul to bend for you. To bend until I fucking break. Congradulations, I'm broke. But hey, it's not the first time, right? So I guess that makes it okay. It has to be okay. If it wasn't okay, I just might do something irrational. but since I'm not allowed to do that, I suppose I'll just write here, so you can read it and not give a fuck. Because isn't that what life is all about? Doing your best and fucking it up anyway?
Does anyone have a direction for me? I've just been path hopping. And apparently, it makes me a whore. Well, fuck you too. Oh wait, that was a whore-like comment to make, now wasn't it?
What the fuck was that anyway? You never offered me a path. You just said, "Here's one. HAHA! Tricked you!"
All this foolish talk of "the One," like there is some holy entity, like there is some path to walk on. Like there is really someone out there. That's all bullshit, you know. We make ourselves. We have no choice. The 'One' is just some bullshit we made up to make us feel better about ourselves. "Look, I found the One!" That is all an illusion to place relationships higher than they really are.
Am I angry enough for you? No? alright, I'll keep going.
Actually, I'm not all that angry. But it seems like it, so we'll go with that.
Because, you know, 5 minutes later, your outlook will have changed, and everything will be different.
I don't fucking care about your problem? I pretend it isn't there? Yeah, because I've known about it for a whole... oh, I don't know, 3 days? And what exactly did you want me to do? "Oh damn! Your fucking issues again! Your problems! Let me point them out for you!" You know what your problem is. Why the fuck am I going to rub it in your face? "Look at your problem. It fucking sucks!" Sorry for thinking you wanted to deal with it. For trying to UNDERSTAND it, instead of DWELL on it. Yeah, I don't care, which is exactly why I'm like "It's alright, things will be better soon." Or wait, is that patronizing you? I don't even know. What the fuck did you want from me? Notice, that's past tense.
It's fucking raining again. It's always raining. But I just can't seem to get between the raindrops. I thought I had made it, but apparently, the rain shifted. I love mistakes like that.
In case you couldn't tell, I'm just writing whatever comes to mind without bothering to think it through. Is that enough like you? How's this for mood swings?
Here comes one now.
I love you. I fucking love you and you know that. But what good does that do me when love just comes and destroys me? Love, compromise, fuck. Where is your love now? You say, "I'm not Ray!" Well, you sure do a good job sounding like him. Except he dwells on shit. I'm sure tomarrow you'll forget I exist. Or at least until the mood shifts.
I bet you're feeling real good now. You can go get that flesh action you've wanted. No girlfriend to pin you down, to put you in a box. Because, of course, I don't know you. I don't know you well at all. Because jealousy eats me alive. Because I've been fucked over JUST LIKE THIS so many wonderful times before. But you'd never leave me. You're not going anywhere. That would be the biggest mistake of your life.
WHOOPS.
I love how it only took three hours to go from that to this. And Cody laughs at me. And I laugh with him. Why? Because he's right. But i still don't care. He's right, who the fuck wants to go through this? Who wants to tiptoe around crazed mood swings and unintelligable thoughts and feelings and nonesense that somehow wrecks everything in its path even though it means nothing, it's just that time of day. Who wants a guy who's not going to go "Oh, she doesn't like that. Maybe i should calm down." So i laugh with him, because he's right.
But he's still wrong.
I want that guy. Because that guy is you. And that guy will do rediculous things and break his own rules and change things around on me every 2.4 seconds and tell me my physical appearance isn't good enough for him and make me think so very very low of myself. But I'll love that guy anyway. And I'll follow this guy around. Well, not really. It's a little hard to follow someone around who can hide with the click of a button. But I'll follow him with my mind. And this guy will be my 'friend.' And he will occupy my thoughts. Probably my dreams, too. He'll make my nights restless and enraging and painful and bitter. He'll make my days empty and so very quiet. Even with the constant screaming coming from the other rooms in my cursed home, in my head it will be quiet. I will be a blank page.
And I'll love him. And I'll hate him. But I'll love him much more than I could ever hate him. Really, I probably won't hate him. I'll just try to convince myself. It makes it easier.
And I want to touch him. I want to see him. I want to know him. I want everything people want from someone. I know his heart. I know his voice. I know his face, too. I even know his mind some. But my reach still falls short. Because I know his heart, but he doesn't know mine. Not like I thought he did. In my heart is all the love and trust in the world, but he's blind to it. He knows it's there. But he doesn't believe in it. Not really, anyway.
And that's why it hurts like it does.
There's so much to say. This really isn't the place for it all. But I had to get some of it out, you see. My head is spinning and I'm dizzy and i think things that I shouldn't think, you know. And though most of that isn't here, this is, because I have nowhere to turn. You're the one who said to write. So here I am, writing this. It's all too much now. What if, eh? Well, I guess this is the answer.
But I love you anyway. Why the fuck do I love you? I don't know, so if you wanted an answer, I'm leaving it empty. All I can say is I love your soul, your essence. I just wish I could touch it the way you've touched mine.
Drifting - 4 Non Blondes
What a wonderful hesitation
who would bear to feel sorry for me
dropped another pill just to calm me
collapsed to my knees and fell fast into sleep
there I was drifting
way out into the sunshine
expecting to crash but I'm tied to a string
look at me I'm a tangled puppet
I might be a mess but I sure can survive
find myself awake counting sad days
1-2-3 that's too many for me
dropped another pill just to find me
I reached for my hand but it was already there
then I started believin'
that I fell out of a tiny raindrop
that lost its way when it decided to roam
chasing me was a hungry dweller
but I had escaped it by pretending to die
come follow me
you won't expect the illusion you'll see
it's my imagination
hand me your eyes
I will put them in front of mine
you'll see a little better
you'll see a little better
what a wonderful destination
where I am now
I can no longer see
dropped another pill just to kill me
collapsed to my knees and fell fast into sleep
there I was drifting
way out into the sunshine
expecting to crash but I'm tied to a string
look at me I'm a tangled puppet
I might be a mess but I'm sure can survive
but I had escaped it by pretending to die
Drifting
This is a simple story of a girl. Just a silly little girl with an extraordinary story. Well, more extraordinary than most. But to those who count in her little world, the story is as plain as could be. So plain that this story probably shouldn't be written. But silly little girls do silly little things. Silly little girls, for example, tell silly little boys silly little stories about silly little things. And such silly little girls expect things. They have dreams, hopes and intuitions. Sometimes they even have visions. Silly little girl. Happiness doesn't exist. Silly little girl. People could never understand your silly little ways.
And this story is indeed the silly ramblings of a stupid, silly little girl.
It's funny how the sunrise is always so beautiful. So beautiful that one would dream to share it with someone. The sunset, too, is beautiful. But as beautiful as it is, it brings the promise of night. And night, though quiet, brings out what we want least. Most people, when dusk becomes night, know that the sun will rise again. They do not worry or stumble along through the dark, because they know if they just stand still long enough, the sun will come and beauty will once again engulf and kill off the darkness.
But what if the sun isn't what you're waiting for? The sun rises and falls. It comes and goes and comes again. Like clockwork, I suppose. But for all the hours of beauty, there are assured hours of darkness. I grow weary of the sun. It brings me nothing but the promise that it will leave me once again. I want the moon. The moon is the only light in the dark. But even when day comes, if you look hard enough, there it is, right there. When you need it most, it's waiting to guide you. Its light is not as powerful, nor are its directions. But it's there. It isn't like the sun. The moon grows weak, and sometimes it can't be seen because it is overpowered by the sun. But it's always there, even when going through its own dark moments. Even when its struggling against the power of the sun. The moon won't leave me alone.
Why aren't you the moon? Why must you just be another sun? You are so much more than that.
These moments I find I have a forced sense of clarity. My mind automatically scans everything that's ever existed, and everything that could. I see so many things now. What a curse it is to see these things. I'm tired now. So tired of trying. But I keep up, I must get up, I must try again, I must I must I must I must...
Who the fuck am I kidding? I can't do this forever. I can't see this, I can't know these things, I don't want to see it, I don't I don't I don't...
God. I sound like a fucking emo kid. And you know what? Maybe I am an emo kid. Maybe things go wrong just so I can say, "Hey, look at me. I'm a fucking emo kid again."
Maybe my standards are too high.
Or too low.
I'm not really sure.
Am I a bad person now? Am I what they thought I was? Can I ever outrun these labels? Will I ever see an answer? Or is that just too much to ask?
I ask too many questions, don't I?
These questions don't have answers, I know. You can't give them to me, and I lost track of where I was, so I don't know how to answer them myself. Love? What the fuck is love? Because I know that love, so far, has been a lot of tearing and breaking.
Compromise? Am I fucking stupid or what? I compromise my soul to bend for you. To bend until I fucking break. Congradulations, I'm broke. But hey, it's not the first time, right? So I guess that makes it okay. It has to be okay. If it wasn't okay, I just might do something irrational. but since I'm not allowed to do that, I suppose I'll just write here, so you can read it and not give a fuck. Because isn't that what life is all about? Doing your best and fucking it up anyway?
Does anyone have a direction for me? I've just been path hopping. And apparently, it makes me a whore. Well, fuck you too. Oh wait, that was a whore-like comment to make, now wasn't it?
What the fuck was that anyway? You never offered me a path. You just said, "Here's one. HAHA! Tricked you!"
All this foolish talk of "the One," like there is some holy entity, like there is some path to walk on. Like there is really someone out there. That's all bullshit, you know. We make ourselves. We have no choice. The 'One' is just some bullshit we made up to make us feel better about ourselves. "Look, I found the One!" That is all an illusion to place relationships higher than they really are.
Am I angry enough for you? No? alright, I'll keep going.
Actually, I'm not all that angry. But it seems like it, so we'll go with that.
Because, you know, 5 minutes later, your outlook will have changed, and everything will be different.
I don't fucking care about your problem? I pretend it isn't there? Yeah, because I've known about it for a whole... oh, I don't know, 3 days? And what exactly did you want me to do? "Oh damn! Your fucking issues again! Your problems! Let me point them out for you!" You know what your problem is. Why the fuck am I going to rub it in your face? "Look at your problem. It fucking sucks!" Sorry for thinking you wanted to deal with it. For trying to UNDERSTAND it, instead of DWELL on it. Yeah, I don't care, which is exactly why I'm like "It's alright, things will be better soon." Or wait, is that patronizing you? I don't even know. What the fuck did you want from me? Notice, that's past tense.
It's fucking raining again. It's always raining. But I just can't seem to get between the raindrops. I thought I had made it, but apparently, the rain shifted. I love mistakes like that.
In case you couldn't tell, I'm just writing whatever comes to mind without bothering to think it through. Is that enough like you? How's this for mood swings?
Here comes one now.
I love you. I fucking love you and you know that. But what good does that do me when love just comes and destroys me? Love, compromise, fuck. Where is your love now? You say, "I'm not Ray!" Well, you sure do a good job sounding like him. Except he dwells on shit. I'm sure tomarrow you'll forget I exist. Or at least until the mood shifts.
I bet you're feeling real good now. You can go get that flesh action you've wanted. No girlfriend to pin you down, to put you in a box. Because, of course, I don't know you. I don't know you well at all. Because jealousy eats me alive. Because I've been fucked over JUST LIKE THIS so many wonderful times before. But you'd never leave me. You're not going anywhere. That would be the biggest mistake of your life.
WHOOPS.
I love how it only took three hours to go from that to this. And Cody laughs at me. And I laugh with him. Why? Because he's right. But i still don't care. He's right, who the fuck wants to go through this? Who wants to tiptoe around crazed mood swings and unintelligable thoughts and feelings and nonesense that somehow wrecks everything in its path even though it means nothing, it's just that time of day. Who wants a guy who's not going to go "Oh, she doesn't like that. Maybe i should calm down." So i laugh with him, because he's right.
But he's still wrong.
I want that guy. Because that guy is you. And that guy will do rediculous things and break his own rules and change things around on me every 2.4 seconds and tell me my physical appearance isn't good enough for him and make me think so very very low of myself. But I'll love that guy anyway. And I'll follow this guy around. Well, not really. It's a little hard to follow someone around who can hide with the click of a button. But I'll follow him with my mind. And this guy will be my 'friend.' And he will occupy my thoughts. Probably my dreams, too. He'll make my nights restless and enraging and painful and bitter. He'll make my days empty and so very quiet. Even with the constant screaming coming from the other rooms in my cursed home, in my head it will be quiet. I will be a blank page.
And I'll love him. And I'll hate him. But I'll love him much more than I could ever hate him. Really, I probably won't hate him. I'll just try to convince myself. It makes it easier.
And I want to touch him. I want to see him. I want to know him. I want everything people want from someone. I know his heart. I know his voice. I know his face, too. I even know his mind some. But my reach still falls short. Because I know his heart, but he doesn't know mine. Not like I thought he did. In my heart is all the love and trust in the world, but he's blind to it. He knows it's there. But he doesn't believe in it. Not really, anyway.
And that's why it hurts like it does.
There's so much to say. This really isn't the place for it all. But I had to get some of it out, you see. My head is spinning and I'm dizzy and i think things that I shouldn't think, you know. And though most of that isn't here, this is, because I have nowhere to turn. You're the one who said to write. So here I am, writing this. It's all too much now. What if, eh? Well, I guess this is the answer.
But I love you anyway. Why the fuck do I love you? I don't know, so if you wanted an answer, I'm leaving it empty. All I can say is I love your soul, your essence. I just wish I could touch it the way you've touched mine.