(no subject)
Two updates for the price of one. Why? Because Jill was disappointed at my lack of updating and that my most recent update was only three word.
Poem I wrote for la clase de ingles (p.s.-Emily Dickinson, I hate you for using slant rhyme. It's hard and you suck):
As my last breath comes to a close-
Memories you keep of me may fade but never will you lose-
Today the ink of these words will deliver you a message my heart bid you not trade-
Make not false memories of me-cover me not with a façade-
Remember me as you saw me each day
I implore you not to remember me in an extraordinary way
Let me be the girl who stays in the back of your mind
But whose face you cannot place, Nor name can you find
Update Number B (as copied and pasted from my xanga, I was actually thining of other things today that I could write in here, however my thoughts are too jumble to type it all now. p.p.s-screw you and your damned lj-cuts):
Just when I was starting to feel like me again, shit happens and I'm back to square one.
Sometimes I wish I lived on an island all by myself and never had to deal with people. I wish I could get to the point where I could just shout "I don't care" at the top of my lungs from the highest building, but I'm not at that point yet. I can't let myself be that free. Why can't we just rid ourselves of the ties to society? Right now, I wish could fly away into an empty abyss. I long for a time when I can be by myself completely 100%. But there's always that voice in the back of my head, that worry poking at my mind reminding me it has to be dealt with, the dust from the day that gathers for weeks and months and years that needs to be swept up and thrown away, and yet cleaning is never as easy as it seems; just when you think you've finished, you find that dirt hidden under the rug. That's where I am now. Just when I thought I had sorted things out, I find more to deal with. Recently, I took down all my guards and acted like me--well for the most part, the only place I feel like me is in my daydreams--and I slipped up and took my sarcasm too far (too bad there isnt an html code for sarcasm). Did I really take it too far, or do people just not get me yet? In my daydreams, everyone gets me. My daydreams are better than my days. I'm always happy when I drift off into my made-up world. My daydreaming is starting to consume me, it's like a disease. It just keeps infecting more and more of me as time goes by. I need to stop, I wish I could. It's like an addiction that needs to be satisfied. This is me almost telling you everything no one has ever heard. This is me writing the preface to my book, the book that will gather cobwebs for months before someone picks it up, only to put it right back down. This is me not being Miss Polly Perfect. This is me telling you not to take this seriously, we'll both forget this soon enough. This is me putting back up the walls and the all the guards.
And this is me hoping that one day, I'll be able to get on that building and shout the words I try and tell myself are true.
Poem I wrote for la clase de ingles (p.s.-Emily Dickinson, I hate you for using slant rhyme. It's hard and you suck):
As my last breath comes to a close-
Memories you keep of me may fade but never will you lose-
Today the ink of these words will deliver you a message my heart bid you not trade-
Make not false memories of me-cover me not with a façade-
Remember me as you saw me each day
I implore you not to remember me in an extraordinary way
Let me be the girl who stays in the back of your mind
But whose face you cannot place, Nor name can you find
Update Number B (as copied and pasted from my xanga, I was actually thining of other things today that I could write in here, however my thoughts are too jumble to type it all now. p.p.s-screw you and your damned lj-cuts):
Just when I was starting to feel like me again, shit happens and I'm back to square one.
Sometimes I wish I lived on an island all by myself and never had to deal with people. I wish I could get to the point where I could just shout "I don't care" at the top of my lungs from the highest building, but I'm not at that point yet. I can't let myself be that free. Why can't we just rid ourselves of the ties to society? Right now, I wish could fly away into an empty abyss. I long for a time when I can be by myself completely 100%. But there's always that voice in the back of my head, that worry poking at my mind reminding me it has to be dealt with, the dust from the day that gathers for weeks and months and years that needs to be swept up and thrown away, and yet cleaning is never as easy as it seems; just when you think you've finished, you find that dirt hidden under the rug. That's where I am now. Just when I thought I had sorted things out, I find more to deal with. Recently, I took down all my guards and acted like me--well for the most part, the only place I feel like me is in my daydreams--and I slipped up and took my sarcasm too far (too bad there isnt an html code for sarcasm). Did I really take it too far, or do people just not get me yet? In my daydreams, everyone gets me. My daydreams are better than my days. I'm always happy when I drift off into my made-up world. My daydreaming is starting to consume me, it's like a disease. It just keeps infecting more and more of me as time goes by. I need to stop, I wish I could. It's like an addiction that needs to be satisfied. This is me almost telling you everything no one has ever heard. This is me writing the preface to my book, the book that will gather cobwebs for months before someone picks it up, only to put it right back down. This is me not being Miss Polly Perfect. This is me telling you not to take this seriously, we'll both forget this soon enough. This is me putting back up the walls and the all the guards.
And this is me hoping that one day, I'll be able to get on that building and shout the words I try and tell myself are true.