Annual Death, Wintery Soul
Saturday, January 3rd, 4:27 am: Everything has fallen apart. My mind cannot rest whilst being so clouded with the inequities bestowed upon me during these last few days. I have always thought i would die in some dramatic, fantastic, romantic manner that there would be no denying the worth and genius of the life i had left behind. A car accident in which i was pinned under the tonnage of an automobile, slowly dying, bleeding and crying, telling my passenger - my lover - that "it was not to be, for God has struck me down before we could ever have known the level of passion that could be classified as love." Or possibly i could have been slowly drained of my life's energy, stricken with an awful disease, horrible treatments only delaying the inevitability of a painful death; to me and to those i love. It seems as though i will not suffer either of those heart-wrenching, thought-provoking deaths at all. I have been forced to chose something that perhaps is viewed more as selfish and stupid than anything else. So with this, i give my heart, my mind, my blood coursing through my veins, their final beats, thoughts, and laps. This shell shall be emptied with the blade of knife.
Thursday, January 1st, 12:13 am: It has occurred to me that every winter a day comes that interrupts the routine of sun-up, sun-down, bright eyes, tired limbs. This day that starts every year (years we have made up for ourselves, the years that pass and are forgotten), and ends every hangover with the same edge that cuts the new years baby's birthday cake. It is that day currently, blinding me with the hope and despair of the coming year, the coming triumphs and tragedies, the coming of the Lord or the cumming in your lovers; i don't know. It's all just random symbolic crap that will invariably end up in a journal or a notebook that means a lot to some lost soul, hanging onto the image of himself as he once was; filled with unspeakable anger and a razor sadness, but at least with some kind of emotions, emotions that were lost along the way. The New Year (if it should even be capitalized) is just an excuse to drown our sorrows in alcohol, sex, and drugs; so meaningless but significant are these fallow follies of ours. At least i can own up to it. I can say that this is just another night spent wasting my time to make something of myself, for a few cheap moments of stereotypical teenage fun. At least i can say i knew what i was doing when i cheated on my emotions and made a fool out of myself - but only to myself.
Wednesday, December 31, 11:11 am: It has finally hit me that i will never see light, shining through the venetian blinds, stripe her face with a glow that can only be equated to viewing a rainbow fall across the moisture being dispensed by a clicking sprinkler head from the neighbors lawn. I will never hear her ask me when the moon will fall to earth - only to answer with a mournful sigh, hoping that someday it will, just so i can grab it and present it to her as a gift - again. She will not even be stopping by to wake me up so that i will make it to class on time; no, my sweet alarm clock has the snooze button forever wedged under a weight that cannot be lifted. I have fully realized that she was all that i had ever hoped for, the last twinkle of light that lay listlessly in Pandora's box. She controlled the feelings that i could not; my better half, indeed.
Monday, December 29, 7:01 pm: I found out today that she has found me out. My indiscretions have finally caught up to me, yet i feel no remorse for my actions. It was all done for a reason. A reason i cannot fully understand at this point, but a reason that seemed obvious at the time of my poor judgement. She did nothing wrong to me to push me to do such an injust act but i cannot help but to think that she must have done something just as contemptible without my knowing. I just cannot help to think that she has.
Sunday, December 28, 6:47 am: I feel like i have made a terrible error. I have spent the last few hours of my life, pissing away the life i have made for myself. I have touched another person in a way that i promised only to touch the one i love. I have reached heights that i had only previously reached with her, my love, my one and only true love. I feel as though i have seen a greener pasture but was torn away upon the realization that my pasture was fuller, more colorful, something of which to be proud. I thought that there was something wrong with my station in life, but have found that i have taken for granted all that i possess. I don't expect her to find out, but if she does, i cannot feel anything; it would be too hard for me to cope.
Saturday, December 27, 4:27 am: I have nothing to write except one thought:
To love is to hurt those one holds dear, and to hurt oneself when one has been cornered and accused.
(A story by Foster)
Thursday, January 1st, 12:13 am: It has occurred to me that every winter a day comes that interrupts the routine of sun-up, sun-down, bright eyes, tired limbs. This day that starts every year (years we have made up for ourselves, the years that pass and are forgotten), and ends every hangover with the same edge that cuts the new years baby's birthday cake. It is that day currently, blinding me with the hope and despair of the coming year, the coming triumphs and tragedies, the coming of the Lord or the cumming in your lovers; i don't know. It's all just random symbolic crap that will invariably end up in a journal or a notebook that means a lot to some lost soul, hanging onto the image of himself as he once was; filled with unspeakable anger and a razor sadness, but at least with some kind of emotions, emotions that were lost along the way. The New Year (if it should even be capitalized) is just an excuse to drown our sorrows in alcohol, sex, and drugs; so meaningless but significant are these fallow follies of ours. At least i can own up to it. I can say that this is just another night spent wasting my time to make something of myself, for a few cheap moments of stereotypical teenage fun. At least i can say i knew what i was doing when i cheated on my emotions and made a fool out of myself - but only to myself.
Wednesday, December 31, 11:11 am: It has finally hit me that i will never see light, shining through the venetian blinds, stripe her face with a glow that can only be equated to viewing a rainbow fall across the moisture being dispensed by a clicking sprinkler head from the neighbors lawn. I will never hear her ask me when the moon will fall to earth - only to answer with a mournful sigh, hoping that someday it will, just so i can grab it and present it to her as a gift - again. She will not even be stopping by to wake me up so that i will make it to class on time; no, my sweet alarm clock has the snooze button forever wedged under a weight that cannot be lifted. I have fully realized that she was all that i had ever hoped for, the last twinkle of light that lay listlessly in Pandora's box. She controlled the feelings that i could not; my better half, indeed.
Monday, December 29, 7:01 pm: I found out today that she has found me out. My indiscretions have finally caught up to me, yet i feel no remorse for my actions. It was all done for a reason. A reason i cannot fully understand at this point, but a reason that seemed obvious at the time of my poor judgement. She did nothing wrong to me to push me to do such an injust act but i cannot help but to think that she must have done something just as contemptible without my knowing. I just cannot help to think that she has.
Sunday, December 28, 6:47 am: I feel like i have made a terrible error. I have spent the last few hours of my life, pissing away the life i have made for myself. I have touched another person in a way that i promised only to touch the one i love. I have reached heights that i had only previously reached with her, my love, my one and only true love. I feel as though i have seen a greener pasture but was torn away upon the realization that my pasture was fuller, more colorful, something of which to be proud. I thought that there was something wrong with my station in life, but have found that i have taken for granted all that i possess. I don't expect her to find out, but if she does, i cannot feel anything; it would be too hard for me to cope.
Saturday, December 27, 4:27 am: I have nothing to write except one thought:
To love is to hurt those one holds dear, and to hurt oneself when one has been cornered and accused.
(A story by Foster)