:: 2007 17 October :: 4.39 pm

this dream, from what i'm analyzing, is a subconscious realization that i need to wake up.. awareness versus unawareness. something about eternity, inner feelings, devotion. the ring a symbol of it all, obviously.

i don't want this to end. that is more what i'm scared of, losing him for something stupid. like if we're still together in a couple years and for some retarded reason i want to act like a girl and wish he'd propose and god, i feel so awful for saying that, i really do. it's awful guilt and fear. and he wouldn't want to, he doesn't want to do that, and i am sincerely scared of it too, but.. at the same time, you know, i'd feel much worse if i lost him because he's afraid of it. or i'm afraid of it.

i know he doesn't want to and i know i'm scared. but this dream, goddammit, this damn dream has made me realize too much and too clearly. wake up, it meant. because you guys don't fight, you guys go so well together, because he makes you happy without even trying, because you never thought that it could be like that.
all those times that i fantasize about him changing his mind on it, but not on purpose. someday far distant in the future. all the things i saw today, the girl with the engagement ring on her hand, the article in the paper about the woman with the man who didn't want to get married despite them being together ten years. all those times that he joked about it, in the diner back then, in the car on my birthday.
he doesn't know that i secretly wouldn't mind, but not for a couple years.

whether or not it's what it means, it's what i'm thinking about now. stupid dreams.

--

:: 2007 15 October :: 10.42 pm
:: Music: jeff buckley

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:: 2007 8 October :: 11.04 pm

in and out, subtle but obvious but not scary. just enjoy the ride, please.

stress has a fucked up effect on my brain. hack throat, can't smoke.

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:: 2007 5 October :: 1.47 pm
:: Music: girl anachronism

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:: 2007 2 October :: 8.41 pm

i feel sick.

i hate missing someone so much, and this music, reminding me of a time when i couldn't even touch them, doesn't make it any better...

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:: 2007 29 September :: 4.27 pm

i don't know when to say, or what is, too much. but if it's getting to the point where i'm a bit scared i don't think it's good.

i know those people don't give a shit about anything that really matters, i know those over-consuming fucks sometimes need to get the message that they can't keep doing that, but at the same time you have to attack the cause, not the result. change the root, the cultural center, the language and the worldview, and they will slowly go away. i know, 'slowly' isn't fast enough. and there's no guarantee that things will change completely or even enough. i'm sorry i don't have the balls to act out like you do, like i might have used to. my anger is underground now, i'm too blinded to bring it back up, and i'm scared to, anyway. i walked around enough last spring wishing i could open my mouth and scream enough to shatter the fucking world.

every time i say i'm scared, it becomes more true, i become more ruled by fear. i'm enjoying this short foray into being happy instead of angry or depressed. i would understand more if i was more pissed off.

i just don't want to see anything happen to you, or even the kids around you. am i the only one scared for you guys?

--

:: 2007 25 September :: 10.41 pm

miss you, kiss you
i'm trying to remember what it was like, back then. one year two months ago, two years ago. when i thought just good enough was good enough. but jeez, why would i want to remember? all that fighting, disrespect, everyone subconsciously thinking they understood me, when they didn't, and just wanted to change me? how could i stand it? how could i not realize how down they were making me? who would, christ...

i love this kid. i love his hands and his back and when his hair is down. i love his unpredictableness and his screams. i love his sincerity in that tone of voice, the rumbling bass in his chest. the hug that fits. how he loves me in his sleep. his handwriting. how he keeps just enough hidden.
he is enough, and he is more than enough. he is someone who actually cares, listens, understands, instead of pretending, or wishing they did, or telling themselves they are. some people can understand each other better than others. i think i've found one of the better ones.
somewhere in the back of my mind, something is saying, shouldn't i have to try harder to make it work, instead of it being so simple? shouldn't we have screamed at each other by now, have had hard feelings? instead we just realize that we have different opinions and don't clash about it. instead, i can't even bring myself to get angry at him, no matter what he does [or doesn't do].

i love him so much, just that. and it doesn't hurt, not a bit. only remembering that there was a point in time where there was always space between us and i couldn't touch him like i can now. but even then, he made me happy.

--

:: 2007 5 September :: 11.16 pm

i haven't wanted to draw for several days, which is why i'd been working on sculpey stuff, and linoleum prints, and painting on furniture. now, though, at this moment, all i want to do is take a pencil and just draw mitsene -- not rek, not any of those other stupid characters that are only part of it -- and just draw that angsty, choking, depressed feeling that is starting to overwhelm again. i am, i am, i am.

i am beginning to forgo the whos, and the whys, and want to submit to the feeling 'just do it'; giving up on romanticism and family; at times, the only thing keeping me here is the fact that i know that being close to death -- or believing you are -- is really, really, fucking scary.

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:: 2007 3 September :: 10.09 pm

i always get so mentally and physically sick when school comes around. FRUSTRATING.

i hope i can sleep tonight. i feel like i'm going to barf.

--

:: 2007 8 August :: 3.34 pm

'i hate this place'

'one of these days i'll be dead and you'll all be sorry'

something out of the corner of her eye

i'm not done

i'll see you later

if i die tonight

there's always something in the way

if only because he succeeded twelve years before i even tried, only because he had a shotgun and i didn't, and if i had, no doubt, i wouldn't be here right now.

do i actually want to die? i can't tell you. do i want to go back to the hospital? no, but if i need it, i will. if they say you should go when you start making up plans for it, then i should have gone a long time ago, and i should be there now, but i don't have the money for those hospital bills.

if i could only honestly answer when the pill-doctors ask if i'm doing alright. 'no, i lay in my bed and fantasize that i'm marching into the sea with shoes of rocks. or i stare out the window when someone else is driving at night and plan how i can die within several hours but never quite remember to.'

when they asked why, i never had an honest answer, either. which is why i'm writing that book. there is just so much shit, so much endless garbage that i can never stop seeing, everywhere, everything is just unfairness and stupidity and i gave up a long time ago. 'everything' is too vague of a word for anyone to understand. maybe one day when i'm lonely and depressed and lose control, i'll print out the manuscript and have it as my note. you want to know why? a hundred pages long is why.


i love writing here, here, in this journal, because it's out there, but nobody can find it, and nobody i know reads it, and i can say anything, and nobody knows--

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:: 2007 8 August :: 3.13 pm

it's just that sometimes when music was playing, it was like an untwitchable twitch in her head, restless legs syndrome for her mind. no matter the screaming or nonsense or capital letters in her head streamed out, no matter the words making sense or no sense, there was still and always would be less control, and this wouldn't stop

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:: 2007 1 August :: 1.58 pm

i keep forgetting about this place. maybe i am really changing.

at least i can see my characters from a different perspective.


i wonder, i say, would tyler durden be ashamed of me?
what should i be doing? are these new things really being 'good' to myself? is this the way i'm good to me? aren't i just contributing to the waste of corporate consumerism?

i am angrier, but it seems to be me that is actually angry, and not some character that i have created. i draw myself beating her up like i can defeat this depression on my own. with meds, i guess. but the more i get better, the more distant i feel... i mean... can i really do this? or is everything going to be harder again once i start school?

it's not the sadness that did it, not the guilt. it was the endless hate and anger that no one would let me feel. we aren't supposed to be angry. we're supposed to be happy. well, i can't be happy... but i can be numb. and if i could shove it down long enough, i could make enough cracks to break this vessel someday.
well, i tried.
then someone forced a leak.

being okay is okay.

--

:: 2007 26 June :: 1.43 pm

quiet ride

half still hand, fingers touching fingers.
red lights
replaced by green lights
burned out behind eyes
black, round
retina shadows

the car moves forward.

------

and i seem to remember
a time,
with this noise same
screams echoes of angels
tearing through
wounding the womb
behind, hidden
behind the crowd

i used to know them.

that was the last time i saw them.

a thousand years from the time before,
a thousand years from then til now.

--

:: 2007 12 May :: 5.42 pm

Two headed boy
With pulleys and weights
Creating a radio played just for two
In the parlor with a moon across her face
And through the music he sweetly displays
Silver speakers that sparkle all day
Made for his lover who's floating and
choking
with her
hands
across
her face

--

:: 2007 8 May :: 2.46 pm

love should not be something that stands in your way.

not letting it, not making it happen again. never again. twice i tried changing my life's course for someone else. ended up in the hospital because of it. i am not fucking doing that again.

i'm going to japan if i have to scream and fight to get there. no one is standing in my way.


i think, then, the worst course of action i have taken, the worst happens, when i sit back and do nothing. when i give up the fight. the anger, need to fight and destroy, is life inside. grinsmashlive.

she may, dwelling inside, be what destroys me in the end; but she is what makes me go through, gives me the strength to scream. my power, essence, will of life. remaining conscious of this course of destruction and rebirth.

if i give her up again,

i give up myself,

because this hair, those markings, those eyes and terror scream cry love hate-- it's her, is me. slowly we are becoming one...
no, we always were. they all are. nothing i can create is not part of me somehow.


the silence of sound, wind, air blue breathes sky, tiny pink dots green grass and newleavestrees.. i may die someday, perhaps within the decade, but as for now -- the next six and a half years -- i am happy. working down my list. i will have no regrets when i die, and i will choose the time.

--

:: 2007 25 April :: 7.06 pm

with these chemicals, with this medication, what do i become?

without these chemicals, this medication, what do i become?



not another no-way intersection..

1 none | --

:: 2007 23 April :: 8.05 pm

it's all a mystery


hand down throat and rip sound out

--

:: 2007 16 April :: 11.20 am

i never really noticed the heaviness of this until a moment stepped outward, feeling something else for a moment. and it's a feeling, and it's a thought, and i don't know how not to be what i feel.

all i draw is what i never show; what i never show is eating me up, up, up.

--

:: 2007 10 April :: 4.47 pm

"Patients often have a remarkable array of symptoms that can resemble other neurologic and psychiatric disorders, such as anxiety disorders, personality disorders, schizophrenic, mood psychosis and seizure disorders. Symptoms of this particular disorder can include (note that the following symptoms are vague and rather common):

depression
anxiety (sweating, rapid pulse, palpitations)
phobias
panic attacks
physical symptoms (severe headaches or other bodily pain)
fluctuating levels of function, from highly effective to disabled
time distortions, time lapse, and amnesia
sexual dysfunction
eating disorders
post traumatic stress
suicidal preoccupations and attempts
sodes of self-mutilation
psychoactive substance abuse
Other symptoms include: Depersonalization, which refers to feeling unreal, removed from one's self, and detached from one's physical and mental processes. The patient feels like an observer of his life and may actually see himself as if he were watching a movie. Derealization refers to experiencing familiar persons and surroundings as if they were unfamiliar and strange or unreal."


dear fucking christ, that's it EXACTLY. have all those symptoms bolded. and especially the derealization.

[edit] though could just be a symptom of depression? or comorbid depersonalization disorder....?

either way, the best way to describe it, i think... have you ever said a word so many times, over and over again, that it loses its meaning? that's my whole world. and ironically, i can repeat any word as many times as i want, and i won't get that feeling of meaningless for it. probably because it already lacks meaning in the first place.

[Often a victim of DD feels as if he or she is going insane, though this is almost never the case...]

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:: 2007 9 April :: 11.26 pm

i still don't know who i am. i'm not sure, maybe this medication is helping stop the weird thoughts -- were [are] they anxiety?

i don't know who i am; i hate feeling like i don't exist like this. i hate mirrors, they just remind me of how i don't exist and how the person on the other side is nothing like what's looking out. no matter how i try to 'express' myself. nothing will fit, nothing ever will.

because i am myself and myself is all i ever think about.


because myself.

because twitching in the night and waking up cold sweat and clenching teeth is somehow better than falling asleep fearing my heart will stop.


it goes when i'm around almost anyone else. not him, because it's comfortable like being alone. i feel so distant just because i am another person. somehow he doesn't feel real either. the rest of the world... i don't know, it exists, it's more solid than me, or him when he's there.

can i listen better? change for the better? i don't get it.

i don't get anything. half tired, half want to finish. i will, because i can... but this is getting so old.



alive, somehow?????

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