poet tree is the new blues
Yesterday was shitty. Sometimes I get why people are put into our lives...sometimes I don't. Lisa's party was wonderful...one of those memories you want to keep forever and chew on when your heart feels heavy or your soul feels hungry. A really great friendship is blooming right in front of my eyes. When I think about that, I get happier. It's hard to not be happy when you're thinking about great people...
Inspiration came and went. Another fetis came out still born from my mind...I feel like no matter what comes out it won't be alive. I NEED it to be...I NEED it to breathe. I use to be able to make it, but it's just not working right now...
I know that I can make myself feel better and that it'll all be ok. Times like these when the pen teases me with silence and I can't puke out what I mean I just feel really low...
It's family and college and everything else that's private/personal helping me to create this web of confusion. I fall prey to my own stupid feelings and thots. Maybe I feel like in some way, everything has already been said...
I know that I'm complicated and fuct up, but I just want her to love me anyway. If she doesn't love me, who will? She said that she didn't like me and I was a dissapointment. The sharp ends of what she says cut deep and I feel like I might bleed to death. Preston was here and put her in her place but she doesn't attack anyone but me because she knows that I am weak. She knows what to say to make me cry...
I wish that it would rain. The rain makes me feel better. It sounds like magic. I can close my eyes and be some place else...some place better...
I feel like it's all snow balling out of my control and I hate this feeling. Writing would make me feel better but I can't even do that right now without hurting me. I'm just really fragile and sore. I know that everything will be ok...everything will be ok...
"Damaged people are dangerous because they know they are survivors."--from the movie Damage
Inspiration came and went. Another fetis came out still born from my mind...I feel like no matter what comes out it won't be alive. I NEED it to be...I NEED it to breathe. I use to be able to make it, but it's just not working right now...
I know that I can make myself feel better and that it'll all be ok. Times like these when the pen teases me with silence and I can't puke out what I mean I just feel really low...
It's family and college and everything else that's private/personal helping me to create this web of confusion. I fall prey to my own stupid feelings and thots. Maybe I feel like in some way, everything has already been said...
I know that I'm complicated and fuct up, but I just want her to love me anyway. If she doesn't love me, who will? She said that she didn't like me and I was a dissapointment. The sharp ends of what she says cut deep and I feel like I might bleed to death. Preston was here and put her in her place but she doesn't attack anyone but me because she knows that I am weak. She knows what to say to make me cry...
I wish that it would rain. The rain makes me feel better. It sounds like magic. I can close my eyes and be some place else...some place better...
I feel like it's all snow balling out of my control and I hate this feeling. Writing would make me feel better but I can't even do that right now without hurting me. I'm just really fragile and sore. I know that everything will be ok...everything will be ok...
"Damaged people are dangerous because they know they are survivors."--from the movie Damage