2010

A whole year has passed and you're the best part to come from it.

fuck.

Words.

Words are funny things. How sometimes the wrong one makes all the difference. How choosing them can mean everything and a lack of them can mean just as much. Sometimes I'm really good with words. But most of the time I'm just good with thoughts. Because what's the significance of an unspoken thought? It's not validated. You can't even really prove you had a certain thought. You can just say, "Yeah, that's what I was thinking," after the fact.

But here's the thing. I want you to know something. You who is not reading this. You who means more to me than you should. You who I don't even really know. I like you. I like who I've made you up to be anyways. I want to know you. I want so much from you that it hurts. And I don't really know why. I don't know anything.

This isn't even original, ya know? The whole Someone Has Already Thought What You Have Thought, You're Not Unique In This Sense. It makes me seem so insignificant. How could I ever mean anything to anyone when I'm so insignificant? I don't deserve to feel loved. I don't deserve to be anything BUT loved. I don't think I know what I want or what I need or who I am or who you are or what the fuck anything is any more. I'm so full of hate and love and bitterness and sadness and lust and all of this is so overwhelming.

How does any one person handle life? How are you supposed to manage all of these emotions? It doesn't make sense. I'm not making any sense.

I just want someone to use words for me and really mean them. I just want a real emotion.

The Nightmare.

So I was walking through this apartment that was supposedly mine (though, in reality, it was definitely, definitely not mine), attempting to steer past the hordes of party guests I didn't know. They were like circus freaks, sort of. I mean, not in the conventional sense. None of the ladies had beards. No strange malformations. Just a general Moulin Rouge like quality; sinister grins and gratuitous nudity, eerie, booming laughter at every turn. These were not my friends, and I couldn't help but wonder what they were doing at my party.

I was looking for someone; a boy, one I actually knew. Occasionally I'd catch a glimpse of his glasses or his hair, but when I'd inch closer, hoping to slide into his frame of vision, he'd disappear once again, and I'd be left to my own devices. Or vices.

I drank something that was sitting on a nearby counter. It stung me in every way. In the best way.

Every now and again I'd spot my sister, laughing drunkenly with a group of people she seemed to know. I couldn't tell. They were all strangers to me. But still, I was searching for this face. A familiar one, a safe one, a face that didn't make me feel scared or threatened. And as the night passed, faces like that were fewer and far between. Even my sister disappeared at one point. But I never stopped looking. The lonelier, more scared I felt, the harder I searched.

Until a large, bald man asked the question I couldn't bear to ask myself. "Why are you looking so hard? What do you want with him?"

I lied to the guest. "I JUST WANT TO HAVE SEX." It seemed like a concept he would understand, even in his state of increasing inebriation. His laughter echoed in my ears, etching a scowl onto my face as I prowled past him.

The truth was that I had no idea what I was after. Perhaps I was just looking for someone to sit in a quiet corner with me and talk, or play guitar. Maybe I really was after sex. But I couldn't help but wonder if all of those things were too insignificant to warrant this endless search.

The sheer horror of this thought thrust me into the waking world, my body drenched in sweat. I'm very much awake, but the nightmare is present.

Sigh No More, Ladies

"Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,

Men were deceivers ever;

One foot in sea, and one on shore,

To one thing constant never.

Then sigh not so, but let them go,

And be you blithe and bonny,

Converting all your sounds of woe

Into hey nonny, nonny.

Sing no more ditties, sing no moe

Of dumps so dull and heavy;

The fraud of men were ever so

Since summer first was leavy.

Then sigh not so, but let them go,

And be you blithe and bonny,

Converting all your sounds of woe

Into hey nonny, nonny."

-William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing

This is my pick-me-up of the moment.