"Do open windows keep the rain away? Do open eyes keep the ghosts at bay? I thought an open door would bring you in, I guess I'm gonna have to guess again."
Hey Kids,
Well I leave tomorrow, but in typical Ralph fashion, I need to do another emo entry before I go. I spent too much time thinking today while packing. This is just something I need to get out. If you are someone whom this will hurt, please just ignore it and don't bother clicking the cut. This is all for me.
I wish that things would stay the way you promised they would. I wish that everything stayed still in this world for long enough to feel safe and have that safety MEAN something. Instead it gets you just to the point of relaxing. Just to the point of feeling like you know what you're doing, like you've done the RIGHT things, and then everything changes in the places you can't touch, in the ways you can't control. I wish that ANYTHING mattered as much as this to me, or that ANYTHING made it not matter the way it does.
We throw ourselves into anything to make ourselves feel better. No matter how wonderful, no matter how safe, how bad and good at the same time, how EXPLAINABLE and full of passion these things are, they just can't fix it. They just can't make it stop hurting, make us stop needing. Maybe all I want is to have everyone love me all the time. Maybe I need to be everything to everyone.
Right now I would do anything to be able to, or even to truly want to, give you everything you need. To let go the way I always feel like you have. To move on somewhere else. Just tell me if you're gone. Don't......swing this way.
I am alone in a crowd of people to whom I matter. I am standing in the middle of a party for me, thrown by everyone I've ever wanted except the one I want the most. I am waiting here, in the din, waiting, surrounded by the flames of passion, wishing every minute that I could trade the thousand storms of their passion for one more night of yours. And I hate it. I hate that I can't give myself up to anyone else the way I really want to, and that no matter how much I wish I could let go because it would be right, I can't stop WANTING/NEEDING to hold on. I always said I would never be gone, I would never be done. And it's the truth. I'm not ready for any of it to be over. I am not ready to give up on what I want. I am going away, but I am still here waiting for you.
"I wish you were a stranger I could disengage, just say that we agree and then never change, soften a bit until we all just get along"
I am selfish, too. Broken and hateful and selfish. I am taking from everyone like it's ok to not care, like it's ok to ask people for things you know they can't give, know they shouldn't. Like it's ok to take things from people to whom you can't give the same back, from people who DESERVE that back, who deserve it TENFOLD, because they are there and they haven't let go, and they won't, and they have that fire that the prairie wind blew out when it rushed through our open door. The fire I promised you I would keep burning, and always would have, even as I handed you the bucket of water with which to cool the flames.
"suddenly, I've become a part of the past, I'm becoming the part that don't last, I'm losing you and it's effortless..."
I am surrounded by love that I wish I could truly taste, love I wish I could really have, an ocean of love I wish I could drown in, every minute, but can't because I am tangled in a net, hanging just above the waves. Through the bottom I can reach out and touch the currents, lift them to my lips and taste them, but it will always be only a taste, until this net will let me go. The worst thing is it's a net I wove myself, and I know how to weave a net. I wove it with passion, I wove it with care, I wove it with the desire that it should be a net for forever, and that it should keep me both free and tied to home at once, and now I am held back by it. I am swinging over perfection, swinging over a thousand possible futures, the nightmare of never reaching the shore.
"Eveyone knows I'm in over my head"
Or do they? I am the champion of maintaining face. Which is both ironic, because I do it by expressing EVERYTHING all the time, and useless, because it leaves me with everyone thinking they can still need me and I can still be there, and I can still love them. And I hurt all over and it's all too heavy to carry and I thought I was done needing to be carried, I thought I was done needing to be loved and cared for by everyone because I couldn't have it from you, but I'm not. And I feel like I never will. And I want it to STAY that way. That's the sickest part. I don't want to know, even though I do, that I will get better. I don't want to get better if getting better means letting go, REALLY, letting go. Because I promised I never would, and I meant it. Because I never wanted to, and still don't.
Whatever, I'm gone tomorrow, and from then I'll be written words on a page. Not a person who really cries in front of you, not a person you need to feel guilty about anymore. I'll be a space on the internet, a chat line, a phone call from the ghost of a man you one day called your love. And then maybe I can stop being "pressure." I've never been good at "light" and I never wanna be. But maybe if I'm far enough away, my poison can't reach you, my sickness can't hurt you anymore, my love can be nothing but a wondeful thing you had once, and not something that hangs around your neck and sucks the life out of everything you want and need.
"On a plane,
somewhere over the sea,
above the rain,
the bottle sets me free,
I turn to stone,
and fall back in my seat,
the cuts are gone,
but somehow I'm still bleeding.
You know it's true,
there's nothing I can do,
You know it's true,
there's nothing I can do about you.
Move to France,
to La Rochelle or Nice
and get a house,
pretend to live in peace,
paint the walls,
a blackout of your face,
stalk the halls,
and move into the basement.
You know it's true,
there's nothing I can do,
you know it's true,
there's nothing I can do,
Pick a fight,
it's just you bein' right,
walk away,
there's nothing I can say,
you know it's true,
there's nothing I can do about you.
so don't you mind the gap,
when you leave,
there'll be time enough,
to turn tail tomorrow,
don't you mind the gap,
when you leave.
Broken up,
like a tanker on the rocks,
not made of much,
I'm like the cubs against the sox,
on a plane,
somewhere over the sea,
I fall asleep,
convinced that I ain't breathing.
You know it's true,
there's nothing I can do,
you know it's true,
there's nothing I can do,
pick a fight,
it's just you bein' right,
walk away,
there's nothing I can say,
you know it's true,
there's nothing I can do about you.
so don't you mind the gap,
when you leave,
there'll be time enough,
to turn tail tomorrow,
don't you mind the gap,
when you leave."
Like I said, I leave tomorrow. I'll see you all online from merry old England and all the other places I go. Maybe the world will make sense again when I get back. We can only hope. I love you all. Honestly.
Until Next Time,
I'm Ktwilight.
Well I leave tomorrow, but in typical Ralph fashion, I need to do another emo entry before I go. I spent too much time thinking today while packing. This is just something I need to get out. If you are someone whom this will hurt, please just ignore it and don't bother clicking the cut. This is all for me.
I wish that things would stay the way you promised they would. I wish that everything stayed still in this world for long enough to feel safe and have that safety MEAN something. Instead it gets you just to the point of relaxing. Just to the point of feeling like you know what you're doing, like you've done the RIGHT things, and then everything changes in the places you can't touch, in the ways you can't control. I wish that ANYTHING mattered as much as this to me, or that ANYTHING made it not matter the way it does.
We throw ourselves into anything to make ourselves feel better. No matter how wonderful, no matter how safe, how bad and good at the same time, how EXPLAINABLE and full of passion these things are, they just can't fix it. They just can't make it stop hurting, make us stop needing. Maybe all I want is to have everyone love me all the time. Maybe I need to be everything to everyone.
Right now I would do anything to be able to, or even to truly want to, give you everything you need. To let go the way I always feel like you have. To move on somewhere else. Just tell me if you're gone. Don't......swing this way.
I am alone in a crowd of people to whom I matter. I am standing in the middle of a party for me, thrown by everyone I've ever wanted except the one I want the most. I am waiting here, in the din, waiting, surrounded by the flames of passion, wishing every minute that I could trade the thousand storms of their passion for one more night of yours. And I hate it. I hate that I can't give myself up to anyone else the way I really want to, and that no matter how much I wish I could let go because it would be right, I can't stop WANTING/NEEDING to hold on. I always said I would never be gone, I would never be done. And it's the truth. I'm not ready for any of it to be over. I am not ready to give up on what I want. I am going away, but I am still here waiting for you.
"I wish you were a stranger I could disengage, just say that we agree and then never change, soften a bit until we all just get along"
I am selfish, too. Broken and hateful and selfish. I am taking from everyone like it's ok to not care, like it's ok to ask people for things you know they can't give, know they shouldn't. Like it's ok to take things from people to whom you can't give the same back, from people who DESERVE that back, who deserve it TENFOLD, because they are there and they haven't let go, and they won't, and they have that fire that the prairie wind blew out when it rushed through our open door. The fire I promised you I would keep burning, and always would have, even as I handed you the bucket of water with which to cool the flames.
"suddenly, I've become a part of the past, I'm becoming the part that don't last, I'm losing you and it's effortless..."
I am surrounded by love that I wish I could truly taste, love I wish I could really have, an ocean of love I wish I could drown in, every minute, but can't because I am tangled in a net, hanging just above the waves. Through the bottom I can reach out and touch the currents, lift them to my lips and taste them, but it will always be only a taste, until this net will let me go. The worst thing is it's a net I wove myself, and I know how to weave a net. I wove it with passion, I wove it with care, I wove it with the desire that it should be a net for forever, and that it should keep me both free and tied to home at once, and now I am held back by it. I am swinging over perfection, swinging over a thousand possible futures, the nightmare of never reaching the shore.
"Eveyone knows I'm in over my head"
Or do they? I am the champion of maintaining face. Which is both ironic, because I do it by expressing EVERYTHING all the time, and useless, because it leaves me with everyone thinking they can still need me and I can still be there, and I can still love them. And I hurt all over and it's all too heavy to carry and I thought I was done needing to be carried, I thought I was done needing to be loved and cared for by everyone because I couldn't have it from you, but I'm not. And I feel like I never will. And I want it to STAY that way. That's the sickest part. I don't want to know, even though I do, that I will get better. I don't want to get better if getting better means letting go, REALLY, letting go. Because I promised I never would, and I meant it. Because I never wanted to, and still don't.
Whatever, I'm gone tomorrow, and from then I'll be written words on a page. Not a person who really cries in front of you, not a person you need to feel guilty about anymore. I'll be a space on the internet, a chat line, a phone call from the ghost of a man you one day called your love. And then maybe I can stop being "pressure." I've never been good at "light" and I never wanna be. But maybe if I'm far enough away, my poison can't reach you, my sickness can't hurt you anymore, my love can be nothing but a wondeful thing you had once, and not something that hangs around your neck and sucks the life out of everything you want and need.
"On a plane,
somewhere over the sea,
above the rain,
the bottle sets me free,
I turn to stone,
and fall back in my seat,
the cuts are gone,
but somehow I'm still bleeding.
You know it's true,
there's nothing I can do,
You know it's true,
there's nothing I can do about you.
Move to France,
to La Rochelle or Nice
and get a house,
pretend to live in peace,
paint the walls,
a blackout of your face,
stalk the halls,
and move into the basement.
You know it's true,
there's nothing I can do,
you know it's true,
there's nothing I can do,
Pick a fight,
it's just you bein' right,
walk away,
there's nothing I can say,
you know it's true,
there's nothing I can do about you.
so don't you mind the gap,
when you leave,
there'll be time enough,
to turn tail tomorrow,
don't you mind the gap,
when you leave.
Broken up,
like a tanker on the rocks,
not made of much,
I'm like the cubs against the sox,
on a plane,
somewhere over the sea,
I fall asleep,
convinced that I ain't breathing.
You know it's true,
there's nothing I can do,
you know it's true,
there's nothing I can do,
pick a fight,
it's just you bein' right,
walk away,
there's nothing I can say,
you know it's true,
there's nothing I can do about you.
so don't you mind the gap,
when you leave,
there'll be time enough,
to turn tail tomorrow,
don't you mind the gap,
when you leave."
Like I said, I leave tomorrow. I'll see you all online from merry old England and all the other places I go. Maybe the world will make sense again when I get back. We can only hope. I love you all. Honestly.
Until Next Time,
I'm Ktwilight.