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November 18, 2007 |
Spineless is Fate, and I as fragile class kneel between the knees of God to place them together for his own amusement, to gain his love. How would you feel if you were your father's whore? If you sat praying for him to look at you like he looks at Mommy. Oh, life would change. Life wouldn't be life anymore, it would be a pool-- No, a puddle. A pool, that mass is too great for the lack of dignity in a hooker's knee-high boots. So, here we come to this puddle, this small, trivial drop of water, surrounded by a world of importance and beauty. And bigger puddles. One looks at the night into depth and structure while another sees colours and another, perhaps, will see nothing but night. See what is night really? Is it colour? Is it depth? And if we can't figure what night is, how are we to figure out what we are. Or more important, what we aren't.
For example, I'm not a nice little girl. I'm not an angel. I'm a vomited up mistake intended to get attention, but instead provided a mess, another responsibility happier lived without. It's important to know who and what you are and that is why I tell myself my mother never let me forget it. That is why I believe she was in the right. She never commented on my looks and it's what's on the inside that counts, or so we're taught. So I was taught. And what was inside me were organs and fluids-- Matter. I was a thing, a was this object that simply existed. Why, how, it didn't matter because no matter what the answer, I would still be here. Existing. And cruel as it may seem for her to push such views on me, to give me this cynical perception of life and love and just everything, I couldn't be more thankful. I couldn't look at my mother with anymore gratitude. I may sit on the street, grinning, laughing at things that no one finds funny or pretending what you want me to pretend. I may be this scum, this hidden secret, this violation of everything this objects have created, but I go to sleep light-hearted. I go to sleep without burden, without worry. I know that these people, they are exactly like me. They exist. Everything, absolutely everything is only here to exist and I am no different, no better, no worse than someone who exists for another reason by another method. Either way, we're still both here.
My vanishing act, they say, is distasteful and old. They call me cliché and boring. They say I talk too little and write too much for someone without a mind of their own. Who are they to preach about a mind of their own? A mind, why would you want your own mind? Having a personality, individuality, the ability to process and think and make decisions and come to conclusions are exactly what breaks us apart from each other. It's what makes everything shred of existence completely and utterly alone. No matter how you voice, show it, spell it. No matter how you express, it's never quite what it is to you and in you and as you. And in that respect we are alone. And dependence becomes this liberator, this salvation from loneliness, from the reality because reality is not a happy thing. This addiction, this dependence binds us to something and suddenly, without this thing, without this substance or object or this piece of matter, we could not exist. And if not for those like us and us ourselves, this thing could not exist. Everyday we destroy the world and everyday we need it more. An abusive relationship seems the most honest if looking at life through this depressing vision. The clarity of being trapped, the freedom of having no way out is beautiful no matter what the outcome. You are free of worry. You are free of challenge, of threat, of anything that you may have to face, because now you only have to face it. Whatever it is. It's going to be there. That simplicity, that knowledge is a gift. And when we lay our heads down at night, we cry inside. The dark shrouds our bodies, our shells and the existence inside can finally reveal how tortured it is. No matter who are you, no matter how happy you are. You still exist.
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| (1 comments) | Cry For Me |
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| Nobody's Home. |
November 28, 2005 |
I wasn't there with her. But I saw it all. It was almost like I could feel her pain. I had to train myself not to. The pain was unbearable. Sometimes I'd slip and feel it. It was muse to teach myself to numb my senses to it. I've been getting better at it.
Her tears stained my pillows and my clothing. What did she expect of me? What does she think I'm made of? I'm only human. She has to realize that. I hate her for this sometimes. I want to... kill her. Hit her. Destroy her. I hate her. I always hate her. But I have to take care of her. Who else does she have?
I sometimes can see her beauty. Can see who she really is. So vulnerable. So naive. In some ways...innocent. She just... makes so many mistakes. So many of the same things, over and over. It's so sad. So pathetic. Pity is why I stick around, I think.
Either way... it's the same thing every day. From the moment she opens her eyes to the moment she closes them again. Sometimes even in between. She gets angry when I ask the same questions over and over again. Though she never gives me a straight answer. It's just too hard? That?s all I can ever get her to tell me.
I do feel sympathy sometimes. She is trying so hard to make it by. And I could understand, I guess... Sometimes I do. She's lost. She's confused. She doesn't know where she belongs. Where she fits in. It's such a said nursery rhyme. Such a said story book to open and view. The pictures are dark and tainted and what fairies and rainbows were there are hidden in the shadows of the forests she's planted.
Other times, though... I get angry. I feel like making her see everything. See exactly the truth, see the reality of what has happened. Some of it was her fault. I don't care how hard that is for her to admit. She had chances. So many of them. But she fled from them and she's dragged me along with her. Now she regrets it and whines about it to me.
I'm still there, though. Still drying her eyes. And telling her to be strong. Every day is a new success. Because I always tell her, Just make it to tomorrow and we'll work from there And I am proud of her. Most people in her place would be dead in a second. Or worse. But she's still living and she's still getting by. I guess I admire that. I guess I have to. I still wish she hadn't dragged me into it.
I'll always hate her. I want to forgive her. Maybe someday she'll give me reason to. I love her, too, though. She's gotten me this far. Kept use both alive. I keep us alive. But so does she. It's confusing. Having a conflict with yourself. Hating yourself. She resents me sometimes, but she could never hate me. She'd be alone if she did, so she wouldn?t dare.
She hurt me. Shattered me. Allowed me to break. But she's lost. It?s too dark to see and she can't see what she breaks. Maybe I'll forgive you. What do you think? Have you ever been able to forgive yourself, after hurting yourself so badly?
If so... I envy you. |
| (0 comments) | Cry For Me |
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| Don't Slam the Door Shut |
November 22, 2005 |
Laying there bleeding
Helpless and lost
Naked in the floor
Eyes wide open
Can't see anything
Staring at the ceiling
Seeing nothing
Feeling nothing
So there's not fear
Just laying there
Bleeding
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| (2 comments) | Cry For Me |
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| Tears Roll Down My Cheeks.. |
November 15, 2005 |
[ Serenity Unchained \ says:
Davey's not talking. Did I make him mad?
Ninja-kun says:
nope you didnt...he is worried i think...because my fiancee is feeling shit right now
Ninja-kun says:
she tried to commit suicide and her bestfriend abandoned her
[ Serenity Unchained \ says:
T_T ..
[ Serenity Unchained \ says:
She's okay though, right?
Ninja-kun says:
no, she is far from okay actually
Ninja-kun says:
as far as you can get
[ Serenity Unchained \ says:
She's not dead is she?
Ninja-kun says:
no, but if she were dead, she wouldnt be as far from okay, since then she would be dead
I.. can't stop crying.. |
| (1 comments) | Cry For Me |
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| ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ |
November 14, 2005 |
OMG, Randy's on and I'm HAPPY. I'm smiling and he's on and YAY! ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ |
| (0 comments) | Cry For Me |
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| Just Some Thoughts |
November 9, 2005 |
Well, this is just a stream of thoughts, so here it goes.
This past year has been like a living hell for me. I've been through just way to much, and I dunno how long I can keep going on like this. It feels like I'm stuck in time, without anything. Like I'm fading away by the second. Like roses dying because summer is over.
I've fallen back into a eating disorder, because I just don't care anymore, and things are getting out of hand. Funny how things change, one minute things are fine, the next they're not. I don't even remember a day that I've felt happy. It's just every morning getting up, and looking forward to more problems.
I can't even like into a mirror, because I can't handle the truth. I can't look at a knife, because those same stupid suicide thoughts fill my head. I was never like this, I just kept it all in, and not doing what I do now. It's weird every time I try to eat.....it just doesn't go down. I just feel..trapped I guess.
I just feel like a damn mistake, because nobody cares what I think or what I have to say. I can't stand living in my home, because of all the arguing and screaming. It gets bunny old, after a while. There's days where I just wanna die, but I know I can't let down the people that do care about me. I know that I need to eat and everything, but it don't work that way. I can't force myself to do any of it.
There's so many days that I just cry myself to sleep, I know..dumb right? I just wish I was perfect, beautiful inside and out. That's just a dream though. I can't see how I can love the people that mean the world to me, but I can't even love myself. But my heart is just ripping more and more, feels like people don't even notice..or they just don't care. All that I want in my life is some damn happiness, and love......but that seems so unreal, after years of not having it.
I hide in a world of fake smiles and laughs. Telling people I'm alright, when I'm not. I don't know what else to do, because you can't save me from myself.... You can't make my broken world, right. It's all up to me I guess, and I don't even know where to begin......so yeah..there's my thoughts and feelings....
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| (2 comments) | Cry For Me |
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| Daddy loves you; Stop doubting that |
November 7, 2005 |
You're right,love always hurts, because love is one the only things that is TRULY important to everyone. That's why it can hurt us so easily, but you shouldn't be scared to feel loved or happy. Everything has a bad side. You can't have happiness without sadness, and you can't have love without hate. Even in relationships when you're supposed to be the most happiest, because of the extreme highs, there's extreme lows, that doesn't mean it's worth fighting for, or that you shouldn't try, EVERYTHING in life will have a side that can hurt you, you've just got to take it in your stride. And I know with what you've been through, "take it in your stride" must be like an insult.But you have to move forward. Whenever your ready. But when I say move foward, I don't mean heal in a day, I mean you take one step forward.You're right in saying he didn't love you, because it's truth, but because you thought he loved you and he hurt you, now you're blind to the fact that Daddy DOES love you and WON'T hurt you. He tries his best. He's always checking up on you and asks how you've been,what's wrong, and why. He wants to udnerstand you so he can take care of you as best he can. You know how it feels to be alone like you were, and how unloved you were, and Daddy wants you to stay with him. He wants to be the one to tell you "I love you", he wants to be the one to hug you when you're scared to make up for all those years he wasn't there for you. He wants to be father figure in your life. Some people fall, and some people help them back up, for you, it's almost like you fell, banged you're head and is laying in an emotional coma on the ground. Daddy won't leave your side. He'll sit and sit and stroke your hand waiting for you to be okay.How ever long it takes. He loves as much as possible. You'll believe this with actions, and Daddy will look after you. |
| (0 comments) | Cry For Me |
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| Red Painted Rose |
November 4, 2005 |
A rose you are my Darling
No matter the amount of blood that you spill, whether it be from a slashed wrist or a truly pierced soul smeared on paper, my Dear, you are the embodiment of pure gothic black that is wretched both mentally as well as physically upon your battered battered spiritual soul
Like this rose, may you never ever stop bleeding out your emotions through your thoughts that guides the pen like a séance being performed with a small tablet that glides on an Ouija board
Like this rose dear, dear darling, you ooze black beauty that bleeds out the gothic in you with never-ending emo-ism.
Let this rose be your vassal to continue on your path spiraling down continually in the blackest of emotions that you shall provide your readers like Edgar Allen Poe, forever with "Nevermoreâ€...
Be forever .Twisted in Innocence.
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| (2 comments) | Cry For Me |
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| =( |
November 2, 2005 |
All I ever needed
Was for someone to be there
To help me through a nightmare
But no one really cared.
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| (3 comments) | Cry For Me |
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| Suicidal Dream [Poem] |
October 28, 2005 |
I'm trapped in a nightmare
Waiting for a way out
I look into the s.h.a.t.t.e.r.e.d. mirror
Hating e v e r y t h i n g looking back
Why must I be so imperfect
I only want to feel b.e.a.u.t.i.f.u.l.
Or is it true that I'm a damn mistake
I'm fading away from everyone, and everything
There's so much pain behind my sparkling eyes
So many things remain concealed
....things you'll never know
So I'll put on a smile, and act like everything is fine
The candle is burning away now
Just like my soul and heart have
...if only someone knew...
I hate waking up to another day of pain
As the knife slowly falls to the floor
These thoughts control my mind
My life is almost taken
My soul will soon be free
This is my suicidal dream
Once you're in it, there's [no] way of getting out
So, let me die in my sleep
...I gave it my all, now it's my time to go...
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| (1 comments) | Cry For Me |
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