Showing posts with label weary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label weary. Show all posts

Saturday, October 31, 2009

Between the Bars

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I lean closer to the cold white bars hoping believing needing to think that the glowing lights in the sky are fake unreal false just like the lying comfort offered by a box full of twenty entire cigarettes knowing that we'll only crush destroy burn BREATHE in Breathe out breathe in STOP Run through fields that won't stop being green cold lovely even though they change morph melt merge like the insides of my mind after so long without smoke curling through my veins heart lungs NEEDING the steady chaotic destruction set in motion years months lifetimes ago REMEMBERING so little of promises lies laughter that only rings out loud in waves like nausea THINKING of unhappier times when the world was still the right way up even though it was easier harder the same and right things were decided by how hard it was to do them NOW it's burning cold hot CONFUSING me utterly completely entirely even though it's easier nicer more comfortable despite words running through my head like so much for Undying LOYALTY and becoming someone else for someone else who turns to someone else until I am you and you are me and there is no me because there is no you except things change morph blur like LINES that were crossed obeyed cut into little dots that rearrange themselves into rants that no one UNDERSTANDS including those they bleed from like rain tears vodka FORGETTING remembering wanting needing hating leaving because there are only so many things to choose from when decisions that can't be made are made in the vacuum of facts information MEMORIES that need to be buried with good and bad and good and bad until windows are closed against the cold November air except it's the wrong room state world because movies are NOT real life though they creep crawl laugh their way in while I lean against the cold metal bars looking at glowing lights that mock taunt laugh ECHOING endlessly until I leave quit die.



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Now playing: Red Hot Chili Peppers - Otherside
via FoxyTunes

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Changing Constants; The Liars!

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The constant flickering glow, she said. I didn't hear her, but she came to my window at midnight, whispering the same echoing words. They're still reverberating inside my head. A constant flickering echo.

Why?
Because it fits in times of absolute nothingness.

Absolute is an extreme term.
So is life.

Stories can only have happy endings if you know when to stop telling them. I hate second chances. Too many expectations.
And we live to disappoint.

I want you to know, but only after there's nothing you can do about it. Information is power and I would never let anyone have that kind of control over me.
Unless I was promised certain destruction?
(I still won't believe you)

Electric chair, two years. Rings a bell.
Bad joke or good joke in bad taste?

It's hard to tell sometimes...
especially if it's your own darkness you're humoring.
That's dark, but self-demeaning isn't defaming. You need a third party. Outside your head.
Tsk.
Retarded clauses.

Things and reasons and seasons change.
Why can't I?
There's no point in knocking on locked doors.
Especially when you're the one who lost the keys.

I don't know which way to pick
and the sun will always be in my eyes
I want to fly.
But I don't want you to wait to catch me, because I think I may remember how to.
And then what would you do?

Echoes fade and memories die
Autumn frosts have slain July...

Are you afraid?
No.
You should be...

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Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Maybe

Are things really getting better or are we just getting better at accepting them?

Either way, don't think about it now, you'll only make it worse.

Things change.

Echoes fade and memories die. Autumn frosts have slain July.

Goodbye July...

Watching smoke makes me feel sane again.

Ash is definite evidence, but what good does it ever do?

What shall we use to complete the wall?
Memories.

Bury memories with memories.
Bad with good.
And good with bad.

You know what's the only thing worse than the calm before a storm?
The calm after it.

I like where I am and I hate the fact that time won't stop carrying me away.

We contradict ourselves and we burn and we die.

We're all unforgiven.

And maybe that's all there is to it.

Maybe.


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Now playing: Shiro Sagisu - never meant to belong
via FoxyTunes

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Stuck

Dawn is breaking, and I'm still here. Someone once told me something about inner peace and how it was necessary to be able to sleep at night. That would explain a lot. There's chaos inside my head right now. And the skies just keep getting prettier.

So much is happening, but I still feel like nothing is.
And I'm stuck in last December.

"Don't think about it now, you'll only make it worse."

I try.


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Now playing: Lounge Piranha - Ebb
via FoxyTunes

Friday, August 7, 2009

Rant

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I miss you guys. It's so sad that the only real place we have left to return to is the past. And I don't know how to get there. It isn't like I don't remember. It's just that I don't realize when I have gone away somewhere. I'm running on automatic. Would you like some tea? I just want a cookie. One with fine print all over it, so that I can taste something meaningful. Like Strawberries.

I keep waiting to wake up and start again from some checkpoint. The only problem is that there are too many of them. And I have one foot on the accelerator and no hands on the wheel. There's a fine line between drifting and crashing. I have a thing for fine lines. Tight rope, she said. No, ma'am, it's only copper wire.

I'm so weary. I can't remember feeling this way. Whatever this way is. Wherever it goes. I don't know. Does it matter? You can't get lost if you don't have anywhere to go.

If no one has the answers, then how do I find them? Where do I look? The skies only reflect my own confusion back at me, after magnifying it by a thousand times. And I can't get inside my head 'cause there isn't any place left in here. there. Here?

Maybe, I've just run out of memory. Or charge. Maybe my validity has expired. I want to vanish in green smoke. Not the popping kind, but the one that looks like fire.

It's getting late again. It's always like that, even with so much of nothing to do. I'm tired of all this moving. I'm tired of standing around. I want to see how deep the rabbit hole goes. It's like being six again. The fact that you may never be able to get back from under the rainbow was never a problem that had to be dealt with. One step at a time. We were all so much smarter as children. I do believe in fairies, but my window is barred. Or I'd have flown away by now.

"Who do you suppose decided birds are free? They can fly wherever they choose, but if there's no branch for them to return to, they might regret having wings. Don't you think? Perhaps true freedom is having a home to return to."

"No one is free. Even the birds are chained to the sky."

It's not like they promised us an ideal world. It isn't like we're ideal ourselves. But in the middle of this relativity and reasons that change like seasons, perhaps it is the smoke that one must cling to. You can't, for too long. And it makes me think of falling snow.

I'd take you home if I knew the way. But, apparently, we can't breathe in space. I wish they hadn't told me. We could have made it there inside one of those raindrops that cause rainbows. A rainbow-colored, near transparent little bubble.

I'm going to hide now.
Count to a hundred.
I've already hidden all the threes.
Goodbye.
I have to go.
I'm getting carried away.


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Now playing: neil young - the needle and the damage done
via FoxyTunes

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

The Endless Story

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Break-up season is here again. Not that it makes any difference to me, personally. But everyone around me seems to be losing their mind. I'd laugh if it weren't so sad. And once again, I'm sixteen years old, convincing an old friend not to go ahead with her grand plan of revenge. It's a year later and I'm sneaking out of my home and into a friend's, eyes on the bottle she won't let go off. That was all so long ago... I guess some things never change.

It should be a comforting thought, in this crazy crazy world. But... it's not. If everything has to change, why can't the sad things change too? Why won't the things that are wrong, change? It's a messed up place, and it seems like it's only the beautiful things that we're all out to destroy.

In a world like this one, there's nothing to do, but survive. You do what you can. And you do what you have to. If everything was always pleasant, the rain wouldn't mean a thing. And every silver lining's got a touch of gray.

But, in the end, words are words. And they can be forgotten. Or remembered even when they were never exchanged. Like smoke, words are swirling, hazy and momentary. Memories are nothing but the stale scent of smoke clinging to your clothes.

Change, darling.
It's all you can do.


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Now playing: Pink Floyd - Comfortably Numb
via FoxyTunes

Sunday, August 2, 2009

Oblivion

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The world is changing too fast... and I can't keep up. I'm falling behind and getting carried away by strange currents.

(...They aren't half as bad as they've been made out to be)

I really don't know where it is that I'm going to, but I don't understand this world anymore. And I don't understand anybody in it. I don't want to know. I would rather leave, thank you.

You're only ever on the outside if you can't get back in.
Or won't.

I would really like to be asleep right now. I want to fall asleep and wake up only when I can't sleep anymore. I want to be bored of sleeping. Tired of it. I want real pent up energy instead of sugar rushes and sleep deprivation side-effects. And I want a small island that isn't on any map...

I already have a name for it.

Oblivion.


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Now playing: The Cranberries - 13 Dying in the Sun
via FoxyTunes