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A pretty little wilderness
01 January 2014 @ 12:21 pm
you know the drill.
comment to be added.
A pretty little wilderness
25 June 2011 @ 05:17 am
"Are you okay?" no "Yes," I lie.

All I've ever wanted was for everyone to just get it, without the explanations and coerced understanding. How do you help those around you to understand that there is something vastly wrong with you, but they can't see or smell or touch it? That everything that is wrong is hiding away inside you, eating at your core like the hungry caterpiller? The answer is, you can't. Even those who have experienced similar will never really get it. Why, you ask? Because everyone's experience is just that unique and personal to them. Then there are those who refuse to believe that because you haven't had something traumatic happen in your life, be it abuse or a death that resonated through your entire life, you have no reason to feel the way you do. I think to some extent I am one of those people. I know there is something wrong with me, I know how I feel and what the consequences can sometimes be, however, I don't understand why I feel this way. My life hasn't been bad, I have no easy answer for the way that I feel or don't feel. I wasn't abused or neglected and there hasn't been anything so awful happen during my lifetime that could ever hope to affect me today. I am one of those cases that is without reason. More than anything else, this is what not only perplexes me but bothers me the most.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he quizzes me. He hasn't noticed that I've caught on to his questions. I reckon he doesn't really care if the answer he gets is the truth, just that he asked and therefore his duty is fufilled.

"I'm not always upset you know, just because I'm not talking or anything doesn't mean I'm going to have a meltdown," I fire back at him. The reality of the matter is that, no, I am absolutely not okay. I am never really okay. At this point in time, sitting on the large plush blue sectional in the darkened living room, I am comfortably numb. This isn't a state of happiness, contentness or one of depression and sadness. This is a state of being, an existing and pretending and hoping no one notices. He hasn't noticed.

"I was only asking,  don't get pissy," he replies, non-chalantly, hardly looking away from the task at hand; Mythbusters.

His asking and obviously not really caring beyond his duty to ask is what has bothered me in this particular moment. I hit the keypad unlock button on my phone and being furiously typing out a message to my bestfriend, being careful not to let his eyes wander over the screen as I divulge what I really feel to the one person I know will care.

I don't feel a thing in this moment. We're sitting infront of the television watching a show and I just feel nothing, and he asked if I was okay, but I know he didn't really care, he just felt he had to ask.

My friend has been on away on MSN for over an hour, I can't say whether or not I'll get a reply to this message now or tomorrow but it feels okay to tell someone, even if it is an empty screen, what I wish I could tell him. I lock the keypad on my phone again and try to move my attention back to the television, but find myself wandering mindlessly around the room, letting my eyes fall on inane objects I hadn't noticed before. A small stack of video games, a vase overflowing with silk flowers, a metronome sitting precariously on the edge of a piano. These things hadn't any significance in the room until this moment, until these few seconds emerged. Ordinary objects that play ordinary roles in the lives of the people who live here. That metronome helps him keep time, and the vase of silk flowers, decoration that nobody ever notices and games collecting dust because he never plays them. Things just taking up space in an already cluttered home. I think about this, are we not just things taking up space in an already cluttered world? How am I or him any different from the metronome clinging to the edge of the piano? I push my mind a little, until it feels exhausted and gives up. Tonight is not the night to be tackling ideas like this, not when I can't feel anything at all. Not when my mind is this preoccupied with the current neuroses'.

A pretty little wilderness
18 December 2010 @ 03:19 am
a whisper, just a simple whisper is enough to change the world. six entirely plain words that found their way to fucking with the entire situation. "just forget me, it's that simple" you sighed. it rolled off your tongue, your breath pushing it forward. escape. i'm stuck between two options. pause or repeat. and neither option seems viable to make me any happier. neither option promises to make the hurt better, only to deaden the inevitable pain of your goodbye. i press repeat again and the familiar scent of your skin is there once more. sticky and sweet. like a hot day in july on the front porch swing. pleasently inviting, the story unfolds again. this is the first time i noticed the way your lips curl in that sheepish grin whenever you smiled at me. the memories in the making, cast aside at the time, become so incredibly important when all you have is the ability to repeat. pause. repeat.
A pretty little wilderness
07 October 2010 @ 01:29 am
has anyone noticed how


looks just like a little sideways man? no shit eh!
Current Music: tbs
A pretty little wilderness
06 October 2010 @ 02:21 pm
i'ma continue to write lists like crazy because at this point it's all i really want to do.

1/ spilling your guts sucks. well no it doesn't, it kind of rules but in a sucky kind of way. oh well, it's out there now and i can't change it.

2/ things are going to change now, no matter how hard you try to stop them from changing.. no matter how many road blocks you put up, there will still be change and you won't be able to hold it back. get used to it, things change. maybe it can change for the good, yeah?

3/ i'm going to be assigned another essay today. fml. i haven't even finished the second essay, now a third one?! at least i'll have reading week to do this one.  apparently not, but i still have that other one to do.

4/ why, oh why, do i love the academy is.. so much right now?

5/ i hate when my phone rings but i don't know who the caller is and they don't leave a message. i don't care if it's a wrong number, leave a fucking message dipshit!

6/ off to class.
Current Music: the academy is..
A pretty little wilderness
06 October 2010 @ 12:17 am
i'm going to write more and more of these public entries i think. knowing that there is at least someone out there who cares makes it worth it for me. someone who cares enough to ask, are you okay. and at least this time i feel like it's being said because they mean it. however since i find myself knowing what i want to say, but unable to find the words to actually say it.. i'm going to revert back to high school me and write a list =] because i love lists, who doesn't?

1/  i have this essay i'm supposed to be writing. i'm attempting to compare the tone/mood, characteristics of a lyric poem, and various other aspects of two poems -- oread by hilda doolittle and in a station of the metro by ezra pound [side note: why does everyone keep calling ezra pound 'her' and 'she'? i can't believe how many times the TA has corrected people]. only the problem is that every time i go to write it, i can't get past the first sentence and i stall and flounder and move on to something else hoping that it'll change the fact that i don't care enough about the subject matter to make a real effort. aside from the fact that this essay is worth 10% and i need this course in order to continue in my major. sigh.

2/ i am intensely fascinated by you. yes you. you say you are not that fascinating? oh well too bad because i find you fascinating. why? i have no clue, you just are. live with it.

3/ i'm going to get my lip pierced next time i'm in peterborough [october 15th!] and i'm excited beyond excitement. i've been on the fence about it for years and now i'm definitely doing it. and ian is definitely going to come with me. and if he bails out, i'll kidnap him because i'm okay with kidnapping.

4/ i've found that i kind of love this song,

5/ i can't believe one would even think of travis barker when i say "i'm going to get my lip pierced"  *headdesk*

Current Music: rise against
A pretty little wilderness
05 October 2010 @ 01:56 am
1/ i feel like we don't have anything in common anymore, and all i can think everytime you talk to me, or you comment on something on facebook is.. what a fucking self-important bitch.

2/ sometimes i feel like i've known you my entire life, spent years racking up the miles. you're a friend that i feel i can completely trust even though we only met a couple years ago in school, and even though we've only been spending time together for a handful of months.

3/ best friend. great words. all the ups and downs, fights and drama. the name calling and bad attitudes and that awful bit where we were more than friends but i was more than distant. i love you, i always will. as the most honest person i know. as the funniest and most sympathetic. as the person who can always make me smile no matter what. as the best friend a girl can have.

4/ i hate that you can't see what's so obvious. get a fucking clue, you're miserable where you are, with who you are with. you're always tired, and you're always complaining. move back, and for once how about you make today, someday.

there doesn't get to be a 5 anymore.

5 gets to exist again.

5/ /start creepy talk

i care. i care far more than i really should. every single day i regret ever telling you that i liked you. i regret the feelings and everything, because knowing that you'll always be a friend is what sucks the most. i should have been okay with not knowing anything and not having you know anything. though i suppose you already did, you could see through me and that fucking terrifies me. i'm sure you think you know a lot about me, a lot of my dark secrets but you don't.. there's so much you don't know that i wish i could say but i don't feel right saying even if it would help. help me. i know it's weird for me to say this, you don't know how weird i know this is. but when i'm not with you i miss the fuck out of you. i don't open up often, there's just something about you that makes you different. don't ask me to explain it, because i can't. it's a vibe.. a feeling that you're here to make a difference. i try not to believe in fate or destiny or anything like that because those ideas always let me down, but this time? i don't think they have.

/end creepy talk.

Current Music: brand new
A pretty little wilderness
04 October 2010 @ 10:20 pm
sometimes i get these feelings, like i should know what to say. what to think and how to feel. it strikes me in an instant that the people around me are so sure of the things they know and want and here i am, barely able to do the doggy paddle while the undertow is sucking me down. over and over i fight against the overwhelming feeling that i'm not good enough, i'm not funny enough, smart enough, enough enough. nothing is ever enough for me and all the praise in the world, all the compliments couldn't change it. sometimes i think it's because subconciously i don't want to change, but the reality of it is.. i do, i wish i could be confident and all smiles and unicorns but that's not how things get to work. someone said to me recently, "you're always so happy," but i think the problem is that we always just see whats on the outside. a person can appear to be the happiest individual alive, but on the inside they're melting down.. lurching from crisis to crisis. and and and no one ever wants to hear or see those things that make us fall apart. they spew their talk to me about it's and throw around the i'll listen's like they're meaningless. but when it really comes down to the moment when you need someone who cares enough to listen and not say a thing, to not judge and to whole heartedly support you -- everyone is mysteriously unavailable, emotionally and physically, to deal with your shit. shit, thats what it is. our shit. i think we degrade our feelings and emotions so much to the point where it's just a bunch of shit that no one cares about, it doesn't matter because if you feel a fucking thing you're just an emotional waste of space. and then.. and then you shut everything off, build your stupid walls and surround yourself with a moat and guards and an army of personality traits to throw people off the scent of fear and self-loathing and panic that everything becomes numb in a heartbeat. you smile and look happy on the outside, while inside you're quietly torturing yourself. you start to believe the way you act because that's the only thing you can really feel. those personality traits, your laughter and your smile and the way you talk about people and your friends, if thats what you can really call them anymore.. those people who said they'd be there, who are definitely not when it matters most. those personality traits like how you shut down when someone asks you a question that hits too close to home. those instances, like how you find yourself staring at the one person who makes you smile anymore. and when they catch you, oh god, and you just want to die because suddenly its like they can see some part of you that you'd carefully hidden away in a back coat closet. or... when they can sense how you feel, how you want and know and the numbness, they can see it in the way you look at them and the words you spew -- it frightens and you don't know whether to shut down or keep talking. implode or explode.

..but maybe i'm just another emo hag.
Current Music: brand new
A pretty little wilderness
16 September 2010 @ 10:22 pm
You live out where the street ends
In a basement apt. With one of your friends
And the tap drips all night
Water torture in the sink
The furnace is burning
But it's still cold i think

I can smell the bleach
That they use in the hall
But it can't clean the dirt off of me

It's seeping under the door
In across the floor
It's starting to hurt

Everytime I breathe
Everytime I try to leave
Everytime I breathe

Now the toaster sticks
And the empties are piled
I haven't been up the stairs in awhile now
I gotta wash the sheets on my bed
Gotta watch the things that go unsaid
God I wish we'd leave it at this

And every evening you open the door
You come down
There's nothing like watching tv all night underground
And no one is watching me slide
Below street level
Barely alive

Now we live out where the street ends
In a basement apt. Just like our friends
We always said that we were different
But you know now that we weren't
'Cause there's holes in all the bottles
And my lungs hurt
Current Music: sarah harmer