Musings of an Exhausted Mind

2011-08-31T19:25:00.000-07:00

i take the next step only to slip on the

wet stone. i tumble from the near top

of the staircase back down to the bottom.

jack and jill went up the hill to fetch

a pail of water. jack fell down and

broke his crown and jill came

tumbling after. at least jack had someone

to tumble after him. someone to

empathize with him over his broken

crown.

i tumble and fall and it feels like forever

with the bumps and bruises that

seem to flourish on my skin. blooming

cuts and gaping holes to complete

the asymmetry of my body. i feel

like alice in wonderland except

this land is far from wonderful. far

from anything i would have dreamt.

i get angry at everything but myself.

i blame everything but myself. though

it's me that tumbles, it's me that is

wounded throughout this entire

debacle.

i listen to sad or angry songs in

hopes this feeling will leave me. so

i won't feel so invaded and taken

aback by these feelings slowly

creeping into me. the indifference.

the anger. the blame. the sadness.

i'm unprotected.

2011-07-13T00:49:00.000-07:00

the grief continues to consume me

it hurts to breathe in, it feels like i'm

stretching some hard, plastic part of me

because i can't swallow the fact you're

not coming back; you're not going to

be there when i need a shoulder...

a hand, a hug, a heart, a tear, a pat

on the back. simple things that have

gone missing, that have left with you

because no one knew how to do

those things like you did. no one

knew me better than you did and no

one just knew what i needed.

you built me up and left me half-made;

rough around the edges still searching

for support to keep me from falling.

you took those calloused, arthritic hands

and that imp-like smile, that contagious

laugh and spirit... you abandoned me.

i've only had 18 years with you and

now that i'm 21, i'm missing those three

that you weren't around for. graduation,

passing my hard classes, saving someone's

life, getting engaged... you've missed it

all and you're the one person i've been

aching to speak to; to proclaim to about

how amazing life has been....

how amazing it has been even without you

here for me. to tell you how proud i am of

myself for being able to pull through it all.

to tell you that i feel so guilty for laughing

and smiling when i know that's the only

thing you want for me. to tell you that you

made me feel special and not alone.

to tell you that you were the best friend

i could have ever been blessed with and

that second to that, you were the best

father i could have been given.

happy birthday, daddy; i miss you so.

2011-04-16T19:31:00.000-07:00

if you asked me if i would change the

past... i would. i would refrain from

speaking of my love for you and just

swallow it back each time it would

plan to escape from my lips.

i would accept your faults and maybe

you would be able to accept mine. i

would be happy with what i have and

learn to live with that fact.

however, that is not how it occurred.

if you asked me right now if we could

try being friends again, i would

have to politely decline because i

become irrational when i'm with you.

if you asked me if i ever stopped

caring, i would reply with a soft "no"

and be on my way; quickening my

pace so as to stop my heart from

running out of my mouth.

if you asked me if i ever stopped

loving you, i would reply with an

angry "never" because once you

love someone, that never goes away.

however, i would not think for one

second that we could rehash and

reconstruct the thing we once were

and that would slowly tear me

apart; more so than the fact i'll never

stop loving you, that i've never

stopped caring.

i would not put myself in front

of that army tank for the mere idea

that we could ever be anything

greater than we once were.

& maybe that's growing up.... knowing

that there was once greatness and

having that be just enough.

2011-03-26T17:07:00.001-07:00

you act as if you don't know that i'm

talking about you. you speak as if

i have your support and friendship to

lean on if i'm in peril or need.

you frighten me. you make me feel

uncomfortable. you make me want

to run because you don't understand

how to speak to a woman who is

in a relationship.

i don't want to see a film with you

because you put your arm around me.

i don't want to be with you alone

because you like to touch me a lot.

i don't want to end up having to tell

you to leave me alone.

you are a fantastic friend and i wish

you could understand this.

i'll never love you like you want me to.

i'll never be with you like you want me to.

i'll never reciprocate those feelings like you want me to.

please; if you are my friend, you'll let this end.

2011-03-26T16:57:00.000-07:00

i want to scoop you up and

hold you in my shaking arms.

i want to smooth your hair as

my tears drip down.

i want to kiss your reddened cheeks

as you breathe softly in.

i want to cup your face in my hands

as your sadness implodes.

i know where this ends and where

this begins.

i am frightened because i want to

shield this from you.

i want to take away this ache,

so you can smile again.

i want you to never feel

how i did.

i want you to find solace

in my embrace

just as i found in yours

2010-12-19T21:18:00.000-08:00

the polished black stone in the pit

of my stomach gleams which makes

me more uncomfortable.

this dead weight feels like the world

but it seems to only be myself;

dragging my body place to place

and resting only when it deems

appropriate.

no feeling, no sadness, nothing but

an anger that swells and warms

the rock until it's a burning

ember; fueling my outbursts.

remember, remember, remember.

remember the science behind it,

remember the death of him,

remember to wrap the gifts,

remember my work shifts,

remember, remember, remember.

maybe i don't want to remember

any longer. maybe i want a moment

to do something selfish for myself

without having to feel guilty.

i want to live again, to smile for

a reason, not because that's what

people expect. i want to know

that i'm crying because i'm sad,

not because i'm too frustrated

to properly examine a situation.

i want to breathe.

2010-11-18T21:27:00.000-08:00

i don't dream of you anymore.... i never get that lucky. you never grace me with your presence and i don't really think i believe in that kind of thing anymore, anyway.

fact of the matter: it's still hard. every patient i see, every middle aged man in his fifties... he somehow becomes like you. a man in a car, a man walking down the street.... i'm always constantly reminded that you're never here and every day it hurts. it hurts the same.

i'm still grieving; i'll never stop. i don't think i can ever forget you. sure... i don't remember your voice.... i don't remember how your laugh sounded. but i remember your eyes lighting up when you had something funny to tell me. i remember the way your arms gave me warm, bear hugs. i remember the smell of your pillow. i remember your crooked fingers because of arthritis but how those hands could be the gentlest instruments ever when you helped me with my school projects or when you sifted through your coin collection. i remember your wallet, worn down but it was a christmas present mom had bought for you; pieces of paper and business cards making the bulk of it from the people you met. i remember the little bald spot that was coming through on the back of your head. i remember the ants dance, the karate-chopping, the crow's nest.... i remember so much of you that it can't die. that it's going to live on through me and through my children and so on. you can never die.

i just miss you and i'm missing the things i'll never get to have with you. i know you'd be proud. i know you'd be rooting for me every step of the way. but it's like love. you know it's there... you know they love you... but sometimes you gotta hear it; i can't hear it from you anymore.

i don't know what to do about this, anymore. it still hurts the same.

2010-08-25T20:37:00.000-07:00

i run in circles over you and

the memory that seems to

turn over and over in my mind.

like a broken record, a scratched

disc, this part of my life continues

to repeat and never give me peace.

i ache without your arms and my

voice barely exists without you

to power it with your words.

i cry without your shoulder and

each tear reminds me of how

they dripped onto your suit.

i held you as i cried and wanted

to crawl into the casket with

you so you wouldn't be alone...

so i wouldn't be alone... so i

wouldn't miss you so much because

i lost my motivation.

i lost everything when i lost you.

2010-06-25T11:12:00.001-07:00

in a rupture of time, a moment

clings to my bottom lip just like

a tear.

your scent crashes through me

and i'm brought back to oceans

and seagulls.

an image of you clouds my mind

and all i can focus on is that

unfailing smile.

i hold on with my might and yet

i find my fingers slipping one

by one.

my heart implodes with the ease

of a grieving woman and fills

with nostalgia.

all at once it disappears, flees

from my invented cage of

immanent fear.

slowly, i tumble down to the

thought of your resting

body and mind.

i curl into these smoky images

and pretend like a little girl

that these are your arms.

2010-05-09T08:11:00.000-07:00

sitting in a pool of salt and iron

i gasp for breath

i clutch my heart

i agonize

i infuriate

i break.

2010-05-08T18:41:00.000-07:00

reaching forward, falling towards it

only to have it tumble from my fumbling hands

i'm scratched, i'm bruised, i'm hurting and bleeding

and all everyone can do is watch me slowly fade away

crumbling heart, spilling eyes, an ache in the gaping hole

there's a ghost town in my chest and it's cob-webbed

with every piece of memory full of dust

with every smile cracked and broken

i crash and burn only to turn to ashes and do it all over again

there's no end in site and no beginning to be nostalgic about

i'm waiting and i'm breaking and i can't hear you anymore

you've left me nothing but this watch for what, time?

to remember how long it's been since i've looked at you

to remember you before your escape from the world

to remind me you won't be here for those important times

to remind me that you're memories are held a golden chain

i'm failing to realize where this helps me later in life

i'm not understanding how this can be good for me

i can't figure out where my life begins

i can't figure out where yours ends

and i'll disintegrate by the wayside, holding your momento

clutching my heart like it's going to burst from my chest

waiting, hoping, urging you to come back and fix everything

begging you to fix me...

because that's what you did best

2010-03-10T05:26:00.001-08:00

like an animal in captivity you
act as if you are in the wild. gnashing
teeth, barbaric ideas and vulgar
thoughts raging within you.

you forget your boundaries and how
to react and interact. you've forgotten
how to address those around you
especially those that seem to matter most.

well i am not a wild animal, nor am i
some sort of object to be insulted and
commented on like some sort of steak.
i have character and emotions.

& it comes down to the blurring lines,
the unfinished boundaries and the
fact you don't understand where i'm
coming from though you feel you do.

i am a visitor, a customer of this zoo
that i've paid to come to. you are
the captive animal that cannot come
too close or else i'll scream and cry.

i am untouchable and i've told you
many times before that as well.
you should know better by now, &
the fact you don't makes my decision.

2010-03-01T19:56:00.000-08:00

i've been really happy about this certain thing lately. it happened friday, i don't know if you saw it.

he gave me a promise ring, daddy. and it's perfect. and you'd be so happy seeing how crazy in love i am with this man and how happy he makes me and how well he treats me.

i wish you could be here, daddy.... to see your little girl growing up and having someone love her to pieces. to bits. to tiny particles. i wish you were here to see everything and be so happy for me.... i guess you are seeing all this though... or at least i hope so, daddy. i'd feel so awful if you weren't....

anyway... this seems silly... writing to you when you'll never read it... but i wanted you to know how happy he's making me.... that you don't need to worry about this one because he's a real gentleman. i wanted you to know that he's loving me dearly.

i watched this movie today and this woman with cancer said that what she wanted most was to see a man love her daughter before she passed away.... you saw the beginning.... you saw the first ten months... a year and some later from when you passed... he's still doing what he did to me. making me crazy and silly.

i really miss you, you know. you really will be the only man in my life daddy, regardless of how close he comes to. you'll always be my hero, okay? be proud daddy, you did such a good job....

goodnight daddy. visit me, please?

2010-03-01T10:40:00.000-08:00

the aftermath of it all is like a sure-fired
canon, rounding the field as it blows through
every part of your body and every piece of your soul
and you're left, scattered wondering what to do

so you take yourself and stitch everything back
but all the pieces just dangle on the strings
and you wish with your might that things were different
but the differences are just other things

and you pull at yourself trying to keep some sense
when the explosion was the best thing yet to come
and you unravel the string and you tear at it
because sometimes it's better to have come undone

2010-01-24T17:22:00.001-08:00

i woke up this morning feeling tired. really tired even after ten hours of sleep.

it's happening. i'm getting depressed again and though i feel i should be able to handle this part of the year by now, i still can't.

i want you here. i want you here so when i wake up in the morning, you tell me how proud you are of me and to congratulate me on reaching twenty, the big 2-0 as you would say. i want you to hug me and give me a silly card that reminded you of me. i want you here for my birthday and for the rest of my life.

i have a feeling i dreamt of you. i cannot remember my dream for the life of me, but it's just a feeling i have.

visit me more often, please. i know you're probably busy... but i love you and i miss you.

2009-12-20T20:56:00.000-08:00

i sit here on my bed with the gaping hole
in my chest still left wide open for anyone
to see through and judge.

i hold my hand over it, wishing for this
hollow feeling to leave me.

it never fades, it never heals, it stays.

if this is what people mean when they say
that they will always be with you... close it
up and leave me some peace.

2009-10-14T17:31:00.000-07:00

you would know what to say and what to do about this situation. you'd make everything right.

why is it i feel so alone now? why is it every time there's something in my life, it has to leave either by force or by will? when is there ever a point where life says, "just let her be. she's not okay anymore. she can't take this anymore!"

god, if you really are there? you can stop fucking with me now. i've lost two grandparents and my father. school's a bitch right now and i really don't need everyone in my life blaming me for crap i don't know. give me a fucking break for once. i don't need to be this strong. i need to have something in life that's easy. that's okay. that's an escape from this god damn hell of a life. okay?

2009-10-09T08:05:00.000-07:00

i think i know what faith is now. not religiously, but in general... faith in someone, faith in the future, the outcome of life... i think i know what it means to have that inherent faith that seems to drive people because i can feel it inside. i can feel it leaking through the pores of my skin and sifting through the air slowly.

faith isn't just the belief or the hope that an event, that a person, that life... will act in the way you feel. that everything will turn out good... no, it's more so the two working in tandem. it's this belief that one day, it will all make sense as to why it had to happen that way but it's also the hope, when that belief is being threatened, when that belief is starting to fault. it's this driving force that keeps you in the know... like the rope tied to your waist with the other end tied to a tree so you won't lose your way in a dark cave. except this rope is never-ending.

i have faith that my life will be successful in the end; fruitful. that doesn't mean i sit and wait for it to happen.... i have to help it, i have to make it happen because faith in something you don't want to work for is not faith at all but a wish, a dream.

i have faith that i will see you again one day, as well. that i will turn my head and you'll be there, smiling with open arms. that doesn't mean i don't cry or grieve for my loss of your light. that doesn't mean i don't miss you with my being and wish you were here instead of gone... but i do have faith that that day wasn't the last time i was going to see you or speak to you. i have faith that you will be waiting for me with tears and open arms, knowing of my accomplishments, my disappointments, my failures and whatever else i will have done. you will love me regardless and i will finally tell you how much i have missed you, how much i love you and how proud of you i really am. i know, i have faith, that i will have that again because i want it so bad and because i am will to work for it.

until that day though, i will cry. i will miss you and i will wish every day of my life you were here to share it with me but i know you're here, watching. i know you're beside me wishing you could touch me just as much as i wish the same thing. i know you're still here because i can still feel you loving me.

i miss you dad, and i will see you soon. it's never goodbye, right?

2009-09-16T19:18:00.000-07:00

once a little girl went to her
grade one class and sat down for
the morning, her lunch awaiting
her in the hall.

once the bell rang, she hurried
with the rest of the children to
fetch their lunches.

she opened hers and inside was
a special treat to the lunch and
a note cut into a heart.

"hope you have a good day.
love, daddy"

and so this little girl grew up
knowing the sweet things that
could happen and did happen
to her.

she loved her father and even
though he wasn't always near,
she could expect him to call her
every night.

soon the teenage years came
along and she grew annoyed
with these phone calls though
she took them nonetheless.

when she moved in with her father,
things were good for quite awhile.

she began worried for his illness
but in time grew to deny he would
succumb and he would make it
through.

thus, she sometimes turned down
walks with him to the grocery store.

and now, this girl would give anything
to have him ask her for another walk
for in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

no more phone calls, no more hugs, no
more laughter or invitations for walks.

she was left alone on the brink of adult-
hood where he could no longer be the
safety net in which she fell.

time had passed and yet she could never
fill that empty spot, that tugging in her
heart whenever she said it over and over
in her head, "he's gone."

2009-09-11T09:06:00.000-07:00

" me not caring is the best thing happening to you"*

but what's funny, is that it was one of the best things that happened for me too.

*From Here - Jenny Owen Youngs

2009-08-28T20:28:00.000-07:00

i wish i had the guts to tear you apart
from limb to limb metaphorically.
i apologize if my feelings and opinions
hurt you but you need to realize that
this is how i feel and if you want to be
my friend, you compromise.

& so i don't need indirect insults or
small snaps that make me feel less
than a doormat for a cat's litterbox.

no, i don't need you making me feel
any lower because you cannot look
to the positive in life.

you're not the only one suffering.

get over yourself.

maybe once you stop looking at
yourself constantly, you'll see
the brighter side to things.

2009-08-23T22:12:00.000-07:00

i feel a warmth come close to my body and i breathe in deeply, feeling the most comfort i have in the past year. he isn't here so it can't be him and it isn't the cat and so i open my eyes slowly, hoping to see something that won't frighten me.

and it's you.

you're looking at me with sad but hopeful eyes and they're sparkling. the vivacity in your face, your posture is unmistakable. your face holds it's wrinkles still, your face still looks the same but brighter and healthier. you aren't skin and bones any longer, you have your muscle back and your beard is black as black as well as your hair; curly again.

i don't know what to do. i can't move and i open my mouth but close it, only to open it several times more to shut it in disbelief. you're standing before me, exactly what i wanted and i can't stop the bursting feeling in my chest. tears begin to spill over my eyes and i'm sobbing, my face wet and sweaty. you put your hand on my forehead and rub it a few times and i begin to feel even better. you cup your hands around my face then sit down beside me. i crawl into your lap and you hold me even though i'm 19 and you rub my back to calm me. i cry into your sweater and i clutch it with such a grip i swear i've stretched it. you look at me with such sincere eyes and you start whispering "shh" over and over.

i look up at you once the shock has passed and you smile. you breathe in deeply and i know you're going to say something weighty. i nod and rest my head on your chest as you speak. "bud, i'm sorry for what i've put you through. you already know how much you miss me and that's how much i miss you. i never wanted this for you so early in your life." i start to breathe quickly again and you shush me. you're not done. "i want you to know three things, heather. one is that i love you, so much that i wish i could come back. the second is that i am so, so proud of you and i hope you remind yourself of that every day of your life. and the last, is that i'm always going to be here. whether it's in a dream, in a memory, in a story you're telling someone else. that's me, there, just not embodied as you would like me to be. i will never ever truly leave you."

i cry more, i choke on my spit even and tell you that you can't leave. that i need you, like this, all the time. you shake your head very sadly and i can even see tears forming in your eyes. it's not possible and i feel bad for asking it of you. touching your nose to mine, you give me our special kiss and i smile with tears streaming down my face. i lay back and you calm me by rubbing my face as you used to when i was younger, whispering the parts of my face as i slowly drift off to sleep by the sound of your voice.

later, i wake up. never quite sure if it's a dream or not but i want to believe you were here and so... i do.

2009-08-15T19:01:00.000-07:00

i don't know how to feel right now, to be honest. i want to laugh and smile and so i do... but i just don't feel it deep down inside like i should; it doesn't feel so meaningful. it feels like i'm lying to everyone too and that in itself is a horrible feeling. i want to be able to let it fall off me like sand from the beach that was once stuck to my wet body but has dried and is crumbling off. i mean, after losing three people that mean a lot to you, how could you not get used to it? how could you not get used to losing people that actually had a part in bringing you up?

and that's just it... it's not getting easier like everyone says it will. it just feels worse and worse and harder each day until the point i'm almost crying on the city bus on the way to see friends. there just seems to be some black hole, some big vacuum that is sucking the life out of me every day. i want to wake up and feel happy. i want to wake up and know my life is just going to get better by the second. thought i'm not sure how many people have that either....

i'm just falling apart inside. i feel like i'm collapsing slowly so no one will see; no one will help me. like how you got so happy and energetic before you died. nobody knew you wouldn't wake up from your nap and that's how i'm feeling... like i'm letting everyone see the better side of me because that's the last time you're going to see that part of me.

it's just that i don't think i can keep doing this. everyone thinks i'm speaking mentally, but i mean physically, dad. i mean that i don't think i can keep on losing so many people close to me and not have it take such a toll on me. i can't keep acting like i'm a strong person when it hurts every time to think of you, of poppi, and now, of nanny. what am i supposed to do without you guys in my life? what am i supposed to do now that you're gone? oh, i know i've heard it before... "live on" or "keep going." it's not that easy and you should know that because you didn't... right?

i'm burning bridges with everyone and it's slowly killing me. i need everyone around me. i need hugs, and random encounters and a little "tlc" here and there. something you could have offered but then again... if you were here to offer it i wouldn't be writing this, now would i?

you were so much of me, so how does everyone expect me to stand when half of what i was is gone?

2009-08-13T10:25:00.001-07:00

what have i become, my sweetest friend?
everyone i know... goes away in the end...

hurt by nine inch nails

2009-08-12T20:34:00.000-07:00

days are counting down and things are getting worse and worse. not only with you, dad, but with everything else. i wish you were here because i don't know what to do. i was honest, i was honest and trying my hardest to explain myself and it backfired anyway. i want to help this friend but he won't look up. he won't look at the brighter side of things and it ends up being a catastrophe.

you'd know how to talk to them... whether i should pursue it more, leave it alone, shake it off.... you would know these things.

it's just hard without you, you know? this month... these past few days... i've been crying, i've been upset constantly.... i just don't know how i'm going to get through another year without you here beside me. this one year was hard enough. this one year was brutal and i don't want... i don't need another year without your hugs, without your smiles and kisses. without your gentle touch and your advice that i need almost every day of my life.

dad, i need you so much right now. i'm sick of crying. i'm sick of having to look to the brighter side of things even though the brighter side of things is just a cloudy day. it's just overcast and not even the slightest sun shines through... but i do it. i do... and it kills me every day when i have to smile and joke around like i'm not hurting. it kills me every time i have to laugh and act as if i'm okay when i'm not.... but i do it. i try my hardest to work through it all and for what? i can't help my friends, i can't help myself, and i surely can't help anyone else.

i wish you were here dad. you'd know what to do, what to say... you'd make this better.

and i wouldn't be feeling as crumby as i have been for the past year.

2009-07-21T21:02:00.000-07:00

it hurts so bad. it's like my heart is bursting to leave my chest to find its way to you. to leave my body and float to the heavens where you'll be waiting for it. to hold it, to carress it, to give it all the love i've been missing out on. and i cry so much for my love to be felt, for my love to be taken by you and for you to give yours in return. it aches to remember how you'd hug me and say you love me because i'm forgetting. i'm forgetting your voice, and how your laugh sounded.

the finality of death. the end. the very dead end to everything. the end to our talks, our laughter, our conversations and jokes. the end to our walks, our hugs, our long silences with just knowing your presence was there. that's why it hurts so much. it's not just the end of your life. it's the end of everything you were involved in and the end of so many things i didn't want to say goodbye to just yet. it's the end of all those precious moments that won't ever be relived.

it's the end to my protector, my confidant, my father. my mentor, my debator, my happiness.

it's the end of everything that i had that i knew was good.

2009-06-20T21:04:00.000-07:00

at the click of the clock, i seem to fall into some sort of depression. at the change of one minute, i'm hurled into tears.

you won't be here in the morning. i won't be able to make you breakfast in bed any more. i won't be able to write you such amazing letters and see you cry as you read them. i won't be able to take you out for dinner or go to the park with you. i won't be able to celebrate what an amazing father you were.

god i miss you. i miss you so much.... you have no idea how hard today is for me....

come back.

2009-06-06T18:43:00.001-07:00

what more can be taken from me? what more can be ripped from me and thrown out of my reach and my sight.

you don't need her too. you took him with you and you don't need her. you weren't even supposed to go. stop making this hurt more. stop making this hurt more than it needs to. stop making me cry.

2009-05-29T21:08:00.001-07:00

i can't explain how it feels. you have someone and in a simple second, they're gone.

i don't mean a lover. i don't mean a person you wanted to get to know.... it's this person that... that just completes you. not in the romantic sense, but in general. they get you. they completely get you and all of a sudden, they're gone. they've had their fill, they've done what they could and then they're gone. and you're left to pick up all these pieces you didn't know you were made of. you're left to cry, and sob, and lose your breath because it's all you can do to keep alive right now.

and you lose faith. you lose hope that you'll ever find someone to completely get you again. someone that can just look at you and know what you need. whether it be a hug, or some space. whether it be a slinking upstairs to say i'm sorry and give you a hug or a goofy smile and laugh at something silly you had done. you lose so much of yourself because you're jagged again. you have nothing filling those empty parts that were full of someone else.

this best friend. this soul mate. this person that knew how to brighten your world in an instant; who made you feel like you deserved the world. who made you feel invincible and like you could live a thousand years....

well when they leave... you have to cope and you end up having to realize you will never have that again.... and you are so happy you had it but you also realize you will always be missing that for the rest of your life. you will never have that again and nothing hurts worse than that.

nothing hurts worse when you know they're not a phone call away.

2009-05-27T21:25:00.000-07:00

i felt you holding me the other night.

thank you.

i miss you so much.

2009-05-26T19:22:00.000-07:00

i wish i could be so much more for you than what i am. i wish i could heal you with a single word like we always joke about. i wish i could hold you and help you forget about all your pain and if for one moment, make you happy. if i could only be for you what he was for me.... i wish you had someone like that.

if only you could see your beauty, maybe then it wouldn't be so hard for you to understand what i see in you. how i see such a man of integrity and warmth... a man of worthy.

we only see what we want of ourselves and we humble people can become too humble for our own good.... and we continue to insult ourselves....

if anything, i wish this song to find you.

a coma might feel better than this
attempting to discover where to begin
you're weighed down
you're full of something
of sickness and desertion
you're weighed down your full of something
you're underneath it all
so say goodbye to love
and hold your head up high
there's no need to rush
we're all just waiting
waiting to die
hope in a better place
is all i need
with moments of innocence
and mystery
oh it's the little things you miss
like waking up all alone
oh it's the little things you miss
when you're underneath it all
so say goodbye to love
and hold your head up high
there's no need to rush
we're all just waiting
waiting to die
all your friends seem like enemies
when you're broken down and empty
oh, all your friends seem like enemies
when your broken down and empty
oh
so say goodbye to love
and hold your head up high
there's no need to rush
we're all just waiting
waiting to die
oh woah oh oh
oh woah oh
oh woah oh oh

waiting by dallas green.

esuna, my friend.

2009-05-12T21:49:00.000-07:00

i turn the tub on and leave it at a comfortable warmth. i slowly peel off my clothes and decide whether i want to wait until there is more water in the tub or not. i'm impatient tonight so i sit in the tub which only has a good four centimetres worth of water in it.

it doesn't feel hot enough so i turn the lever half way to the hottest setting. i set my back slowly against the slanting end of the tub and feel the cold hit me like a brick. i still feel as if it's too cold and i turn the lever, only a quarter away from the hottest setting.

my skin burns. it's turning pink and my fingers and toes look like raisins. i stare blankly at the tap and sigh, waiting for the water to fill the tub.

i pull my knees up to my chest and shut off the lever. the water level is not where i want it but i'm too tired to care. i sink deeper, my hair beginning to crawl around me and stick to my shoulders. the deeper i sink, the more it hurts until i finally put my fingers around my nose, plug it, and put my head under the water. my face burns, my ears are filling with water; i can't breathe and my lungs feel as if they're going to explode.

i bring my head out of the water though i'm not gasping for breath. i sit there, feeling water dripping off my eyelashes and stare. i feel empty inside and i look to my body and can feel the steam coming off my body. i bring my knees back up to my chest and can only feel how my life is slowly unraveling; knowing i wanted it but wasn't ready for the emotions involved.

i can't remember the last time i wanted to stop it and i can't remember the time i wanted it to start either.

2009-05-11T20:05:00.001-07:00

a picture was on the stairs from my grandmother. i opened it, inside is a picture of my sister, her daughter, myself, my grandfather and my father.

the two men in this photo have passed on. both i miss dearly. both of these deaths occurring less than a year apart.

i want to rip this photo apart. tear it to pieces and destroy the evidence of these two men that were so amazing. destroy the constant reminder they're gone.

destroy myself in the process too.

2009-05-02T21:08:00.000-07:00

i miss your hands, your rough,
hard working hands. the ones that
held my tiny hands and lead me
through the hard times; the ones that
gripped during the dark times and
the ones that lessened that grip once
the times were light and airy.

i miss their callouses, their undying
warmth; their sleepy-comfort feeling.

i miss your face, with those laugh lines
infused. the frown lines were always
constellations to hard times. it was
full of every part of you that i have now.

your eyes were the gateways to your
emotions, just as mine were. you could
smile and yet i could see the pain that
seemed to linger. i could see tears
being made and yet they barely fell....
unless i wrote you a silly letter, a note
in a card, or my acceptance letter.

your smile, your main feature. how it
would curl and laughter would erupt.
how i could finally speak, finally cease
my tears if i could see you smiling.

your nose, how i would kiss it when i
was little. our special kisses. our special
little secret together. we were better
than the eskimos.

oh, how i miss your arms. how you could
envelope me in them and i could feel
myself falling into your scent. it was like
nitrice gas at the dentist; falling deeper
and deeper into a comfortable grasp of
feeling, only to feel the act of hurting and
not the pain involved. you were my drug.

and i'm an addict. i'm an addict for your
love and you cut me off just like your life
line decayed. your pulse defecit is far too
much of difference to bring you back. your
flatlined heart will not come back.

and i miss you. the entirety of you.

the love of you.

the pride of you.

the act of loving you.

2009-04-23T20:32:00.000-07:00

it's funny.... it hurts a lot to think about when i try to. i end up crying, i end up becoming angry and sad and all these other emotions rolled into a tangled ball of yarn. and as i said, it hurts. it hurts a lot, you know.

but what's worse... what's worse than purposely thinking of you and missing you... is when you attack me with no notice. i sit on the bus. i wait patiently to be taken to the terminal so i can switch buses to go to school. i am unsuspecting and then an older man comes on the bus. your personality, your age, your likeness. and it hits me. this sudden fear takes a hold of me and my chest becomes tense with stale emotion that's been lingering to long but not thrown out.

you take ahold of me. your presence that no longer graces me at any point in the day. your slowly slipping attributes. your sounds. you take ahold of me and take me to a place that i don't want to go. i don't want to go there anymore and you need to stop that. you need to stop taking me to those dark places where i'm cold, where i'm alone and where i realize that you aren't here anymore. maybe that's what some call reality but it's not possible for me to function in that part of life. i couldn't be as optimistic. i couldn't function due to the constant sadness.

i was there for the first few months of your death and now i've made a comfy lie for myself to live in. you're just in the other room. you're just down town. you're just here but not and that is nice. that is comforting... embracing... enveloping.

and only on days when i purposely think of you will i want to go to those cold and lonely places. only during those times, when i can walk into the darkness as far as i want to and run away when i feel the emotion becoming too heavy.

i know this is a lesson i need to learn... but you need to be patient because losing you was the most heartbreaking thing i've ever felt.

2009-04-13T20:13:00.001-07:00

i wanted those happy moments and tiny feet. i wanted your goofy smile and your happiness to embrace what i brought into the world and that won't happen.

there's so many things you're missing and i'll never forget that at every step of the way, you won't be able to see these parts of me that are growing and unfolding. you'd be so surprised at the maturity i've gained the tears i've shed to become who i am now.

when someone you love so much dies... it's like all the good parts of you die too. it's like... all that beauty you once saw in yourself disappears... your faith leaves.... you watch as your confidence descends the cold and lonely journey with this person in case they need it.... you watch that spark you once had become nothing but a dim glowing ember with smoke flowing from it; snuffed out.

and you try so hard to find these parts of you again.... you search through people, you search through books and websites... just trying to find those parts of you that seemed to leave so easily. and that's how it always is... easy to leave but hard to stay. it's easy to disappear but harder to be known.

so not only do you lose this person... you lose yourself. and as much as i've said i've done it... i haven't found many of those parts yet. i'm still not ready to let go. i'm still not ready to accept the fact that your no longer here. i'm not ready to accept the fact that you will no longer be here to cry to, to hold onto, to hide behind when i'm scared and have lost all faith in myself.

you don't understand what this is like, dad. you don't understand this wanting... this excruciating pressure that you can feel building up in every part of your body; this emotion. and this emotion takes control. it feverishly diminishes all of your thoughts and actions and you're left with this useless body and these empty thoughts.... at the end of the day you're left with yourself... and not even a whole you.....

grief is a hard road to travel, dad.... if there's one thing i wish you hadn't taught me, it's this one so soon.

2009-04-07T19:01:00.001-07:00

scare me
half to death
and probably
more miles
than needed.

and laugh.
and joke.
and act as if
it's not
a big deal.

just like my
father.

2009-04-02T21:03:00.000-07:00

this crushing in my chest is because of you. how i've longed to see you, how i've longed to touch you and just hold you in my arms. how i've longed to hear your words and your voice, your laughter and to see your smile. how i've wanted to see your eyes twinkling and your eyebrows going up in curiosity.

the weather is getting nicer... the days are getting longer and you'd be reminding me of that. you would have been outside today with your ice cold mug of pop and a plate of crackers or a sandwich. you would have been reading and you would have looked up just when i got to the neighbours house and you would have waved and anticipated my return. you would have said hi and yelled my name, hugged me and gave me a kiss. you would have been there.

and tonight when i left you would have hugged me. you would have told me to have a good time and warn me not to do anything stupid. you would have smiled and laughed and i would have had the comfort that i'd be coming back home to you....

but i don't. i come home to the emptiness, to the thick sadness that never seems to leave. i push it in the back of my mind. you're here when i'm gone and you're just somewhere else when i'm here. you're not really gone and... and then there's days like this. where i know where you would be. where i know that you would be outside, sitting in your chair, reading a book. i know you would be waiting there for me to return to talk about my day and i know you'd care enough to ask.

and i also know that i wouldn't take it for granted ever again. that i'd be so happy and so glad that you'd be there. and when i'd hug you, i'd hug you knowing full well that i'd never be that happy again. and i'd breathe you in; your scent. i would hug you until you'd ask if something was wrong and i'd look up with tears and just tell you that i'm so proud, and that i'm so happy to have a father like you. and i'd glower with the fact that you're here and not there. that you're alive and not dead.

i'd give my life to feel your arms around me once more.

2009-03-06T13:04:00.001-08:00

i am a summer breeze you'll never feel,
a gentle hand you'll never touch.

i am the iceburg you'll never get to see fully,
but you'll crash into me and fall to your depths.

and maybe while the blistering cold quickly
slows your body, your heart will begin to beat....

and you'll want that summer breeze.
and you'll want that hand to save you.

just maybe you'll know what it's like to risk
your heart, your soul your life...

and see the inevitable fall below you as you
tumble and sink into the cobalt sea.

2009-03-05T20:46:00.000-08:00

what am i to you? a dog you can chain up and leave? a child you can stick in a play pen while you do other things? it seems like i'm always waiting for you. waiting for you to respect me, care about me, pay attention to me... am i some passing phase? am i just some random girl you go through before finding your true love? am i just your first so you can have a second, a third?

who am i to you? what am i? who am i really? what makes me smile? what makes me cry? what is my favourite song right now?

i can deal with being ignored.... i can deal with having no romance.... i can sure as hell deal with being second best and taking a back seat.... i mean, i've done that most of our relationship... but to lie to me? twice? to lie about lying? to make an explaination for that lie? thinking changing one sentence will fix the uninevitable break in my trust? that was foolish.

i don't give out second chances often and third chances are almost impossible.... i learned my lesson long ago to give up when i know there's no saving things.

but it really hurt. it was embarrassing. it was extremely humiliating and i could feel myself becoming that child in grade five. i never wanted to feel that again. that ugliness; self-confidence so low. and the one person that's been getting me through these days and putting up with me....

i don't like being lied to. i have been honest from the start and it's apparent i couldn't be given that benefit. it's sad that you couldn't, crudely, "grow some balls" and tell me the truth right then and there. you get no points for telling me the day after... not after i asked and you told me, blatantly, the answer that was really just another lie.... so how far will you go next time? if you can lie to me now you can lie to me again. if you can lie about this you can lie about anything.

and you know, i said i wouldn't compare you to my father any longer.... but after all the things my father could have done... denounce me at my birth, leave our family, die on me... the one thing he never did was lie. he told me the god's honest truth. the day budgie died, he told me. the day tony died, he told mom to tell me because he was crying. but he told me because he knew sooner or later i would find out. because sooner or later it was going to hurt. sooner or later it was going to be said and he'd rather the pain and the ending acceptance then the lies and the betrayal along with it.

i'm disappointed. i'm hurt beyond anything. i don't really think i've ever felt this kind of hurt before.... and yet... i don't know if you understand.... because sorry doesn't fix broken trust... and sorry doesn't fix a breaking heart... and sorry can't be your answer to every mistake. apologies are nice, they're sincere usually... but they don't fix the damage.

i don't know what to say, i don't know what to do. i'm angry, i'm so angry that i want to just rip your face off but i'm so sad that i'd be crying while i did it. i'm hating that i love you so much because if you were anyone else, this would be done and over and i'd forget about you... but i can't. and that's bothering me too.

if you aren't ready for an adult relationship, say so.
if you aren't ready to act like an adult, tell me.
if you aren't ready for me, don't string me along.

2009-02-22T20:21:00.001-08:00

i didn't cry about it for a long time.
i was stupid.
i was misguided.
i was fooled.

and i'll be damned if you make me cry now.
after everything.
after my humiliation.
my apologies.
my gentle hand reaching out.

so take your pretty words.
take those memories i wanted to cherish.
take that calling card i left and rip it up.
because i'm not giving any longer.

i should have never given in the first place.

2009-02-11T19:21:00.000-08:00

i'm so tired of missing people....

why does no one ever stay?

2009-02-08T18:34:00.000-08:00

well isn't it a little disheartening when
everything crashes down and then
you're told to suck it up, stick it out
when you can't figure what it's about

& you're forced to walk the long halls
dragging your feet as your heart falls
with the laughter and the pitied smile
when you want to cry, all the while

taking it in and pushing it down
until you can longer hold up that frown
until those laugh lines begin to shallow
deep inside you can feel the hollow

but you still get up and leave your bed
when all you want is to somehow be dead;
the stress, the pain, the dull ache
the life of little miss can-never-catch-a-break.

2009-02-06T22:38:00.000-08:00

it still hurts because my love
for you is a resonant sound.
it stays for awhile until it is
replenished with another
contraction of the heart.

these tears trickle down
my face because i never
knew that side of you. &
it's just like the others.

better than nothing is
just a sliver above nothing.

you can handle long weeks
without my touch. you can
sleep at night soundly.

oh you can spend hours of
your time with things that
satisfy and fulfill you.

you keep forgetting something.

i can't do that.

& i'm breaking. i'm falling to pieces
and you're only inclined to pick
up the parts when it suits you best.

i ain't no damsel but i am a girl in love.

with a man who is too indifferent
to really love her back.

2009-02-01T18:36:00.000-08:00

i look at the world from a distance. i look at the people living their lives, walking to work, going to school. i see the angry drivers, the soft hearted teachers, the crying school children. i can see the mothers and fathers becoming distant from their children, i can see the government putting a wedge between concerned teachers. i can see these children growing not knowing their parents who live in the same house as them and i become saddened. i start to show a little sympathy for the children that act out and none for the parents that yell at the child for acting out.

i look at teachers not being able to hug their students. i remember having my favourite teachers. i would buy them gifts and they'd give me hugs. they'd help me do up my winter wear. it can now be construed as sexual assault if either take place.... the concerned parent isn't liking this....

thought i propose it's not for over-protecting their child. it's because they don't want their child having a different parental figure in their life. many times children confuse their parent and teacher. i called my teacher mom quite a few times out of habit. but because someone wants to hug your child and show them some sympathy... you're willing to fire them? you're willing to fire a teacher who spends more time with your children daily than you do? sure you work hard. sure you make a living for your children and keep them sheltered, fed and clothed. but none of that means anything if there isn't any love.

censor the bad shows but let them watch as much tv. watch what music they listen to but let them shut the world out. watch the video games they play but let them play them for hours on end. don't let them help with dinner in case they make a mistake. don't let them do the dishes with you. don't put them to bed and spend an hour making sure they're asleep and comfortable. don't play with them, don't watch them sleep and kiss their little heads.... but fire a teacher willing to show them a little emotional support.

my fondest memories as a child are with my parents. spending time with them. it didn't matter we were only at the beach and having 1$ onion rings. it didn't matter we were sitting in the sun porch making hallowe'en decorations during the rain. it was the joy and love i felt from them when it happened. when it stopped, it was more than devestating.

when the divorce happened, they both went their separate ways and i was left at the crossroad. i fought for their attention and neither was willing to give it. even to this day, after his untimely death and her being wrapped up in other things... i still crave their attention. i am practically an adult, almost 20 and yet... i still want their attention.

coming from a child that had it both ways, you parents have no idea what you are doing to your children. you don't protect them, you watch them. you don't talk to them, you order them. you love them but you aren't willing to put the time and effort into proving that to them.

and it saddens me to see this world becoming what it is. divorce is so common, children are so impartial to everything going on in their lives. it's like they're on some eternal prozac that stops from feeling anything more than the common emotions that are brought out in normal society.

even now i see how this has changed me... this cutting off of life support and attention from my parents. i am eager to grow up, to leave my family and begin my own life and yet, the one person who can help me with that doesn't want to... because he still has what i used to have. and it makes me insanely jealous and angry because no one can quite grasp why i want to leave so badly.

though i don't feel much of an active love from him either. which frightens me sometimes. it just seems now that he has me he doesn't feel like he has to do anything to keep me. like seeing me once a couple weeks is enough to hold me over. like emails i ask for with lovely letters inside will make me forget the lonliness. like his promises mean anything until they're executed.

i am used to full attention. i am used to be the center of attention and for the past eight years of my life i had to deal with not having any of it. call me high maintenance. call me a spoiled brat but i want what i feel i deserve and i feel i deserve the attention of the man who so claims he loves me. i have no doubt he loves me... but it's like the parents now a days; nothing to prove it otherwise.

maybe i have high expectations. maybe i'm looking for roses and promise rings and one day an engagement ring. maybe i'm just look for some initiative. maybe i just want a surprise visit one day or being whisked away on a surprise weekend. maybe i'm looking for a simple hand made card. what am i really looking for? my father.

i'm looking for a piece of him inside of him. i'm looking for my father's random acts of kindness. kinder eggs for us everytime he came home from work. coming down to my house 45 minutes away from his and taking me on a surprise dinner. bowling. walks. movies. a smoothie i so badly want for 4$ that i end up dropping in the mattress department of sears and us running away. i'm looking for the romantic side of my father for the man i love. the funny side of my father in the people i know. the serious part of my father in myself. i'm looking for little trinkets he'd find with his metal detector that he'd give me because i fell in love with that bracelet with the little jazz instruments all around it. the rings he'd give me that he had found. the toy cars.

i'm looking for my father in everyone and the more i don't see him in anyone the more i seem to lose faith in everything. maybe it is high expectations. maybe i'm being cruel and too precise. maybe i just want someone to see something and think of me... maybe i want to be someone's inspiration like i was for my father's rehabilitation and quitting alcohol. maybe i want to be the reason someone changes themself for the good. perhaps i'm asking too much.

what girl doesn't?

2009-01-25T18:15:00.000-08:00

i've been entertaining the thought of what i would say to you if you could appear to me only one last time... i think this is what i would want to say:

daddy, i miss you. i've missed you so much since the moment i knew and i don't know how i'm getting through this the way i am. i couldn't have asked for a father as amazing as you; for an idol more inspiring. you have been a beacon for me my entire life by showing that people change. that if you just take a second look at someone and smile, you might get a smile back.

it's been hard, dad. it hasn't yet been a year and i still find that i miss you as much as the night i first found out. i still find that i want to smell your after shave, hear your morning coughing, see your kooky smile. to just reach out and know that you're something tangible and there. it's difficult to accept that you aren't downstairs any longer for me whenever i need you.

the first times are the hardest, you know? first christmas, first time being sick without your concerned eyes continually coming upstairs to check on me. my first birthday without you is in two days and my heart is just reverberating a dull ache that cannot be banished. you have completely turned my world upside down and dad, you've taught me so much about myself.

you've taught me that i might be bending, i might be so far down but i'm not breaking. that maybe i'm not the strongest person in the world but i am in no means weak. you've been teaching me perserverance, the drive, the will... to keep going. to stare the bleak, dark unknown in its bloody face and drive forward with a battle cry. you've shown me that i can keep going and i can still be a good person though i can faulter. you've taught me that compassion for every individual is a must because they could have the same feelings as i might. even though you haven't been here, you've taught me so much.

i'm not sure how else to tell you, dad. you've moved me. you have made me into a person that i am becoming proud of. i wish you had known while you were still here how amazing... how loved you were. how many people came to bid you goodbye at the funeral and how many crying eyes i saw. oh dad, you were so loved by everyone. you were everyone's smiling face, everyone's laughing lips. you were such a bright person that you lit up anyone's life that you entered.

i only wish you could be here to still feel that. i only wish i could tell you that every day and have you here. i took so much for granted and it'll never feel the same now. you've left, you've gone, and i sure as hell can't bring you back.... you need to understand dad, you've made me think twice about everything. you are the person that has not only progressed me but pulled me back. i cannot grow in some ways and for some, i've become stagnant. you were so much apart of my future and now that that is gone... i've lost a lot. you made me. i am half of you.

i'm proud of that half. i am genuinely excited to have your quirkiness, to have your features. but i am also missing some of that half. you took a lot of me when you left... a lot of it burned with you in your cremation. when you left a lot of the good parts of me left i think...

i keep remembering things. our late night tv shows. our tuesday movies. our random nights out bowling and trips to the bookstore. you had no idea that just the drive or walk to these events were what made me happy. just the ability to talk to you and feel you near me was enough. to keep you close to me and know that if i needed my dad, i had him. you were so strong and tough but your heart outshined all of your features. you were someone i bragged about. when i did that presentation on you and your alcoholism, it wasn't just because i wanted to inform the students. it wasn't because i wanted to embarrass you.... it was because i was so proud you went through it and got through it. you inspired me. dad, i was so proud of you....

i wish i could speak forever... so you would stay. this birthday just won't feel right dad....

i love you, so much. i miss you more than ever.

you'll never be forgotten, so live on.

2009-01-21T19:44:00.000-08:00

i don't know what to be now. i'm not sure. should i be happy? sad? upset? still grieving? because i laugh now... i smile now... and when i do, i mean it.... but i can't help but feel sad every time i come home. every minute i'm here i can feel the absence of you. i sit here, singing in my room just begging to god that you'll come upstairs and make fun of me. oh god i miss your voice....

i just don't know what i am... who i am. i'm not your daughter anymore... i'm the memory of your daughter. i've changed so much and i'm not sure you'd recognize me. sometimes i'm so ashamed of myself and i can't help but think i'm disappointing you. i want to feel like i'm someone you'd be proud of but that just doesn't seem to be something i can feel.

you took so much of me with you, dad. you took every part of me that made me happy. every piece of me that made me feel unique. you took every dream i had and ripped a part of it out. i can't do this, dad. i can't keep going on in life and be like this. i can't keep smiling and laughing... not when i'm missing you. not when i'm aching and wishing you could see me smile. there were so many things you didn't finish. so many words you didn't get to say.

daddy, it still hurts like the night i found out. i can still feel that intense pain cutting off my breath. i can feel my heart hurting and my entire body is shutting down; curling up inside of itself. i need you so badly and you aren't here. i can't hear your voice. i can't see you. i can't feel you here and i need it so. i want you to hug me when i'm crying, i want you to smile when i make you proud. i want you to talk to me for hours on end and i want to feel you close to me. i want you beside me because life just isn't working without you.

the happiness is leaking out of the hole you made when you left. the joy is deteriorating. i miss you so much daddy... you'll never know.

2009-01-14T18:43:00.001-08:00

The coat; his coat. I found it when I was in the spare bedroom, hanging in the closet. I remember I eyed it so curiously and walked out of the room until Christmas day when I need him. I took the coat from the closet and put it on, crying into it my heavy sobs and blatant fears. I remember I put on the coat and just cried for a good hour. Like he was here, like he was with me, holding me.

Since then, the coat has had a place in my room. Sometimes it's on the floor... sometimes it's on the bed... but mostly I'm wearing it. I can still see him wearing it while he shoveled the drive way. As he would come home from work. The brown, knitted piece of work smelt just like him. I wear it whenever I need him. Whenever I'm feeling low. Whenever I'm sick...

Because... because it feels like him. Like if I put this coat on, he's still here. I can still feel him and it's like he's hugging me because of the familiar fabric. It was just the other night I was severely ill and I could smell his scent on the coat which had long left the fabric. This coat gives me courage, knowledge... it gives me hope.

And it gives me him. Because I can't have him anymore.

2009-01-10T18:18:00.000-08:00

i am a princess who has found
a prince so rare and so grand,
if only he had under him,
two legs to stand!

for he will not have the posture
to act like the prince he is,
& he only has so much time
to make sure i am only his.

he had not saved me from dragons,
no daring sword fight was faught,
only a duel of the sexes
and like a fish, he was caught

& now it feels i am the princess
waiting in a tower high,
for my prince is scared of height
the very thought makes him cry.

so he will not climb the hair i lend,
the ladder i've sent o'er the ledge
and so the distance between us
like a bridge's arch, created a wedge

do tell me why he does not climb
and i shall make a king out of you,
for i have no other reason why
he might not want to be with me too

so i will wait if only much longer
until the time another prince may ride
to my very tower with courage,
and with his royalty, a matching pride

2009-01-10T16:57:00.000-08:00

i can feel him slipping away from my grasp which each day that goes by. i can feel myself become less of a likable person and more of some bitter, fake imposter that only assumes this role in this life because nothing better has yet to happen. it seems as though no matter how hard i try, or the pills i take, or the people i surround myself with, i cannot make myself happy. i cannot smile the way i used to and i cannot laugh the way i want to. i cannot take simplicity and leave it at that and i cannot leave a complex problem well enough alone to let it's kinks work out on its own. i am sabotaging myself.

i need you, dad. i need you more than ever and you aren't here. you haven't been here for the past five months and it's beginning to anger me. if you had been here, she wouldn't have moved in. if you were here, i would be okay. but you're not and you know what? i'm angry at you for that. i'm angry that you left so early in my life and i'm tired of not blaming you for some things. i remember i would stand up for you all the time against mom. i always have stood up for you and then you go and die on me. i wasn't mad at you when you divorced mom. i wasn't mad when you moved out. i wasn't mad when you put us through hell. i forgave you because people deserve that. i can't forgive you for this. for leaving me on the brink of adulthood. you always seem to abandon me in times i need you most. the moment i was hitting puberty, you were gone. you were hardly there when i was a toddler. and now look. you're gone again. and this time you can't come back.

maybe this is normal. maybe, maybe i'm just some horrible, cruel person for blaming you but i can't help it. i loved you so much, with every bit of my heart. none of it went to waste when it came to idolizing you and thinking so highly of you. you were smart. you were caring. you were generous, and funny, and everything someone could want in a person. i looked up to you even after the drugs, the alcohol, the constant separations. i looked past it all and saw you.

well what are you now? just a box of ash downstairs in the living room. just some pile of black ash that will never amount to the person you were. you left before school started. you left before i got married, before i had children. i'm questioning everything in life. what's the point in so much of it? i'm irritated constantly, i'm always stressed and frustrated. you make me so mad sometimes because i don't even feel you here anymore. i never see you in my dreams, i never feel your presence when i'm feeling so alone. where the hell did you go, dad? did you take the easy road? can you not stand to see me so upset? or maybe i'm wrong. maybe i'm wrong in thinking that there's an afterlife. that you can come back and comfort the people you love. maybe i'm just fucking wrong with everything i'm thinking and i am a fucking cruel bitch.

all that i know is that you abandoned me. you died peacefully. your heart gave up. well you never knew how much my heart beat for you! you never knew how much of my future you were involved in! you never cared to ask how i felt because no one ever does! no one cares how i feel when it comes to some of the most important decisions in my life and i'm tired of being treated like i'm not worthy of it! my heart aches for you. it still beats for you, long after yours stopped. and you followed your heart. out of the door of our home and into someone else's where half of us were non-existant. you didn't care if it hurt me. you didn't care if it hurt her and mom. you just did it. because you needed to get out. because you wanted out. well you know what? i want out too. i want to get away. i want to leave everything behind but at least i have the guts to not break everyone's fucking heart in doing so.

you don't even know how much i've cried for you. how much i miss you with every fucking moment i live. you don't get it and you never will. you didn't know all the times i cried for you while you were in rehab. you didn't know all the times i cried when you and mom divorced. you don't know how much i've cried now. why is it every man in my life always breaks my heart? why is it every man i love ends up hurting me beyond repair?

you didn't have to go and break my heart. there wasn't much left of it.

2009-01-07T18:18:00.000-08:00

i try to listen to happy music. i try to smile and be happy... to look at the upperside of things because there isn't much else to do in a time like this. i push past the people but i hang out with friends attempting to be who i used to be.

i remember saying once that if you ever died, i'd go insane. well, i haven't.... i'm coping, i'm breathing, i'm still getting along in life and it makes me angry at myself. i fell to pieces. i'm still in pieces, but how can i be so put together for everyone? how can i make a front so large that nobody can tell that i'm still aching? when i shovelled the driveway the other day, i shovelled a path to the chair you always sat in and took the snow off the chair. because i know you'd like to sit there. i still wait to hear your voice and i still wait to feel your arms around me. there's still so much of me and my life that is missing. i fall asleep feeling more alone than ever and wake up just hoping that for once, today, i'll smile genuinely.

i just wish this was a dream. poppy isn't doing too well, you know. i saw him today. beared with it and went alone after school to see him and you have to be with him. you should be with him. he's in so much pain and all i can think about to make this a more positive thing is that he'll have you when he goes.... but i don't want him to go. he was your father. he looks like you. he acts like you. he talks like you. i can't lose him too. i can't lose two people who thought the world of me. who else will think that? who else will bother to not ask if i'm okay, but just know?

he was so worried because he hadn't gotten me a card for my birthday yet. he was so scared of disappointing me and he can't. he never will. it made me feel good... that the only picture he had of his grand children in his room was me... because for once it meant that someone other than you put me before other people in my family. that someone thought more of me.

i miss you. i'm really going to miss him too.... just promise you'll be there for him... promise you'll help him through it because i can't imagine it...

just remember to visit me...

2008-12-27T21:21:00.000-08:00

to walk by someone you know
and not a smile; a nod. to love
someone but no commitment.
to work so hard for everyone
else and still be underappreciated.

to be self-sacrificing, to love. to
make sure everything else is done
before you attend to yourself; if
at all. to take a photo not of yourself,
but of others for the memories.

to want the comfort and closeness
of what is now absent. to pain,
to ache, to have nobody look your
way when all you want to do is cry.
to shut your eyes even though they
won't notice the sparkling tears
that glaze your cornea over.

to love someone when they don't
have the time to love you. to be a
shoulder when you're missing one. to
hold not a grudge, but an umbrella
in the rain over an enemy. to smile
when you're angry. to laugh when
you're sad. to have no one noticed.

;to be invisible.

2008-12-24T23:16:00.000-08:00

i remember you becoming angry with me. you were tired, you wanted to put the gifts under the christmas tree and go to bed before i woke up at 6 am screaming to open gifts. it was 1 am and i hadn't moved from downstairs. i was going to catch santa. i remember you making me go up to my room and i remember you waiting in the doorway for me to fall asleep.

i remember how you'd pluck whiskers from your beard but only the white ones. you'd leave them on the coke can so it looked like santa had drunk the coke. the cookies were eaten. one year, you even wrote me a letter and took your deer foot knife and muddied it, signing it so it seemed santa and rudolph had a hand in it. you made deer prints outside. sleigh marks. you did it all for me because my sister sure didn't believe in santa any longer.

it's hard to believe you really aren't here anymore. my cavernous heart is beginning to feel more and more hollow with each familial holiday and it's beginning to feel fragile. it's reminding me of decaying bone... how it turns from this strong, spongey material to this brittle, fragile plank that can be broken the minute pressure is exerted. it echoes, this pain; it calls your name. these hands of mine still reach for you. these eyes of mine still look for you. this heart of mine still beats in hopes you'll be there. i ache for your voice. i could deal without the arms... just your voice.

just to hear, "i love you, heather" or "i'm so proud of you." maybe an "i'm still here." anything would be lovely.

i remember i had a dream where we walked down a dusty country road. everything seemed to be in sepia as the dust blew around us. the wild flowers were whimsical, moving with the wind whichever way it pushed. the dialogue i do not remember for it feels as if there was no dialogue at all. it was just knowing. it was standing beside each other, walking; knowing what we felt and thought. i need more of those dreams. i need to see you more. i can't see you only once in a while... i need more of you.

whether it be a country road or a midnight car ride, i need you to visit me more. i need you to talk to me and comfort me more.... especially tonight. oh please...

2008-12-18T20:16:00.000-08:00

as if it were some sick, disgusting
fad, people are attempting to remember
you in ways you can't imagine. middle
names, papers, cards. return to sender.

these people act as if you were their
own. as if they were apart of you. like you
were some sort of relative.

hate to break their bubble but you were
just a man in their life. you may have
been a father figure, but you weren't
for them. you were for me. for my sister
and me.

they act as if you were theirs. as if i'm
someone discarded in a game of hearts.

well discard me. hearts do not entertain
me any longer. you were mine. you were
my hero and i no longer have a way to
remember you with such honour. they
have taken that from me. they have
left me barren, with no momentous
occassion left.

picked you clean. picked me off clothespins.
shoved you in a box. shoved me in the garbage.

2008-12-17T20:28:00.001-08:00

three christmases i have been invited to. three of which were very generous offers. the fact people are willing to invite me to private, family celebrations is extremely kind and generous....

this christmas, i will be alone. my entire family is doing their own thing and i could go to my mother's but i'd rather not due to her boyfriend being there. i have no problem with him... it just feels wrong to me....

people don't understand why i want to be alone on such a momentous occassion. to be honest, i'm not sure it's what i really want but i feel i've put myself in such a position that i won't allow myself anything else. i think, for once, it's hitting me that i don't have much left when it comes to my family. it sounds horrible, and i don't mean it in that sense. it's just... it's hard to explain. i had to grow up so much in these past years and i needed my family to recognize that i still needed them and their guidance. my father was the only one who recognized that.... and so, this is the first year i'll have without him really here. he won't be in the next room. he won't be in the hospital. he won't be 45 minutes away. he's really gone.

and i think that is what's really beginning to get to me. i can't even call him to wish him merry christmas. and then i think of last year. how i spent christmas eve with him and thea, i don't even think that... and i went to my mom's. then i went to spencer's.... i didn't have the time i should have wanted with him. i didn't get to spend that last christmas with him and so maybe this is me punishing myself for doing something so selfish.

all i know is that this christmas will be a lot of crying. a lot of everything and i don't want people to see that. i don't want to ruin people's happiness... because they have their families... they have their own celebrations and time with their family and i don't want to impede.

i miss mine. that's all.

2008-12-14T19:09:00.000-08:00

If there was a chance to go back in time I would, thought the young girl staring out the window, looking at the falling snow. She had parted the side of the curtain and looked at the onyx sky; a guise for the real, navy blue tone it was. Feeling a sense of nostalgia overcoming herself, she closed the curtain and turned her back to the empty room she was inhabiting. There was nobody home and the house was full of silence, something she craved and yet feared. In silence, she could relax and begin to rest... until the thoughts consumed her. Until the what ifs and the maybes took over her mind and her body would relinquish itself to these tense and stressful scenarios. Biting her lip, she looked to her side, to the table with his items so carefully placed.

Shaking her head, she looked straight ahead. This needs to stop, she kept reminding herself, as if letting go was that easy. Where is that middle ground? Where is the plateau I need to fall to, to finally be able to live with this tragedy and still be able to smile? For this girl, life was harder than most people knew. She smiled, she laughed, she appeared as if she had finally gotten past what happened. She firmly believed that if she could just have everyone believe she was okay, that would eventually lead to her attaining that.

Inside, she blamed herself. Though it seems something one would do, though it is common, it seemed to be much more than that. Not only had she seen the initial beginning of the weakening, but she saw the slowing, the uncharacteristic happiness and elation. She should have saw it coming. I had the knowledge. I could have tried... but she knew that in the end, she was thankful for it not happening while she was there. It wasn't how it was supposed to be. Walking to the back of the house, she put on her running shoes and walked outside, coatless. She walked towards the magnolia tree where she felt at peace during the summer. Where the blossoms made her smile and all she saw was a decrepid, naked tree. The blossoms were gone and there was only crooked brances and a trunk driven into the ground. Next to it was the hammock that would have been put away. Snow covered, she reached out to touch it but decided to leave it as it was. That wasn't her area of the yard and she didn't want to taint it with her own body ruining the memory of the last time it was used.

It will never be the same, this place. I'll never be able to think differently of this house anymore. She meant it, and it was relaxing yet stressful all at once. This was where the death occured, this was where she felt her future come crashing down on her at the last minute she had finished gluing the pieces into place. When she felt she was content with life, that she had accepted everything that had happened, things had to fall apart. It's like I was on this piece of land. The minute the death occurred, the minute I learned of it, the rest of the earth crumbled away. My emotions kept me centered to the earth that hadn't fallen, the gravity of the situation.

Not realizing she was shivering by now, she traced her way into the back of the yard where the garden was and the fire pit. The last time it had been used was to cook dinner. How am I going to use this fire pit again? It'll ruin what I remember happening here just this past summer.... Looking at the house, she could see the warm glow of the windows and the night was also silent. No animals, no cars, no wind through the trees. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head to the sky. Let me get through this....

2008-12-13T11:36:00.000-08:00

moving the furniture off the carpet and out of the way, i lay on the floor. this was where it happened. this was where he left the world for something better, something easier. i close my eyes, fingers interlocked and on my stomach like how he used to sleep. i breathe in the stillness of the room, the absolute quiet of the house. i breathe in deeply, pushing my back into the floor, hoping for a second it might make me disappear and maybe i'll fall back into a worm hole and come out in time to save my father. this was where the couch was.

i imagine the coroner, i imagine my step-mother and some family members, standing while the coroner looks him over. i can almost hear the time of death, something i don't know and don't really want to. i can see the tears and the heavy hearts, the broken dreams and the man that we all loved lying on the couch as if he is peaceful; he is.

i open my eyes and i'm still where i was before. it pains me to not be there to say goodbye to him. i wish i could have been with him for his last moments but i know he wouldn't have wanted to expose me to that kind of sadness. he wouldn't have wanted me to find him like that. he waited until there was no one around and finally gave in.

2008-12-09T21:26:00.000-08:00

as a child, i remember when my father and i were separated. it was a night like any other, i must have been around five. we were living in a women's shelter as my father got better from his bad habits. i remember i was relatively happy and i think it was a couple months after not seeing him, i went to my room and went berserk. i pulled books off my shelves, threw my stuffed animals, ripped the sheets off my bed. i was screaming and crying and when my mom came in to see what was wrong, i was seething with anger, tears running down my face and hair matted to my sweaty forehead. at first i could see anger in her face from what i had done and then it softened and she asked me what was wrong. i just sobbed, took a blanket, and sat on my bed. she sat on the edge and i blurted out, "i miss daddy. where is he?"

when we moved back in with him, i was ecstatic. i was used to his temper; his anger. i was used to him punching holes in the walls, throwing things, ripping his shirts up.... he was my dad and i loved him the way he was. when we moved from that house to another one, in a smaller town, i remember he would sometimes work until 6 or 8 in the evening. i remember i would sit at the door with our dog, faithfully waiting. that, or i'd be upstairs, listening very carefully. just at the sound of the door, i'd come bounding down the stairs into my father's arms. i was so happy to see him.

it's hard to explain what it's like missing him. it's kind of like this prolonged hope that sits in your chest with a bitterness attached. to me, it feels like i'm still waiting at the door for him to walk through; i'm still listening for him to open the door and yell hello. it hurts, a lot. there's no other way to describe it, but that it hurts with every breath you take remembering him. when you aren't thinking of him consciously, you fall back into your habit; he's at home. he'll be home. he won't be gone.

sometimes i lay in bed just letting my heart jump. today, i heard a noise in the kitchen when no one was home and instantly thought, "dad's up". he wasn't.

it hurts to have this kind of missing, though. i want to catch my breath and recognize he won't be coming home but i think i have this hope, this tiny retraction of breath because i feel i will see him again one day.

for once, i think i'm going to say what went through my mind when i was told my father was gone:

at first, my mind drew a blank. it took a quick second to fully realize what was just told to me. before tears could fill my eyes, before my body could tense, i saw a lot of everything. i saw us carving pumpkins. i saw him telling me how much loved the song "we didn't light the fire" by billy joel. i remembered helping him do yard work, pulling a snapdragon head off and him getting angry. i remembered his face full of pride when i was excited at the tree house he built me. of the garden we made in the back. i saw him holding me, his eyes full of concern and sympathy trying to stop me from crying. i remembered him drying me with a towel when i was little, staying up late to watch wrestling and married with children.

after that, my body finally reacted. i felt dizzy, nauseous, i felt disbelief. i felt this instant longing to talk to him, to see him. i felt this clear, immovable heaviness and emptiness all at once. i couldn't see straight and i just began wailing. i remembered how kurtis inched into the room as my sister told me i had the decision of whether to stay or not. i chose to stay, to be held by the last man in my life that knew me. i went to the bathroom a lot, almost vomiting many of the times. i splashed water on my face, i tried making the tears stop but they wouldn't. kurtis held me as much as he could and i kept listening to music on my ipod, finding songs that might soothe me.

i kept wailing how he'd never see my do anything monumental in my life. how he couldn't be gone. that he had to be home and this was all some cruel joke. that this wasn't supposed to happen and that he was being saved. it was futile but the denial gave me time for my body to fully respond.

it was like that day when i missed my father when i was younger. the next day i was fine and i went back into my room and my sister and mother had cleaned it and everything was back in order. my life was back to normal.

unfortunately, this longing will never suffice. this aching will never end and i'm not sure this pain will ever dull. tomorrow my life will not be put back in order and it will not be the same ever again. i'm not sure people recognize it, but i still miss him very much. it is still very hard to see children with their fathers. it is still hard to not cry every night as i lay in bed, reminding myself he won't be there when i wake up. it hurts, so very much.

i still feel i have done no justice in describing the initial shock. maybe it's because i'm still within it. i'm not sure. i'm confused, i'm lost, and i'm hoping someone will show me what to do. all i know to do right now is breathe and focus on what i need to get done.

i'll always miss him, you know? i'm sure people understand that. i'm always going to miss his hugs, his smiles. his laughter, his inexcusable humour. i'll never forget the joy he gave me or the pride he had in me. i'll never forget the lessons he taught me, especially this one. i'll never forget that he was such a great man, someone to admire for he overcame many obstacles and left this life with pride and vigilance. he fought until the end and he was a courageous man. i only hope to be half the person he was.

so tonight, i'll go to bed. i'll probably cry a little and hopefully dream about him. i'll wake up and start another day, missing him with every hour that passes.

2008-12-08T10:05:00.000-08:00

the phrase "forgive and forget" i feel is misused, a lot. in fact, i don't believe the phrase should be used when it comes to... well... anything. forgiveness is something every human should have the ability to do. whether it is vital depends on the situation, i believe. not everyone deserves forgiveness, especially if it's a mistake repeated constantly. as said in a song from Taking Back Sunday, "it's no mistake if it's always repeated." forgetting, though, is something i feel is impractical. forgetting ends in not only parts of your life missing but it leads to broken hearts and confusion.

i've never been able to forget the bad things people have done to me; nor the good. i have yet to forget the constant teasing while i was growing up, or the countless efforts of my friends to cheer me up in my later years. why? because remembering is, to me, vital. there's a reason a friend and you disagreed. whether it was silly or not, it was a disagreement that may have dealt damage to your relationship or feelings towards each other. it is vital to remember why, to remember why it was such. why? because if it happens again, you have something to fall back on. no, i don't mean shoving it back in their face when you're angry. i mean looking to the past experiences to help you decide what you wish to do. apologize? agree to disagree? to never speak again? "fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me." it's true, it's undoubtedly true.

remembering can be such a bittersweet thing, as i have learned throughout much of my life. after the divorce, remembering the moments where it felt like we were a family were devestating. if we could have days like that, why couldn't they work it out and work past their differences? why couldn't they forgive each other and work with what they had?

when my heart was broken, i found myself remembering how close he and i were. how we were so close to what i wanted and yet close to what he wanted to stay with. we were on a plateau that was almost perfect for both of us. why couldn't we forgive each other? why couldn't we look past it all and decide that our friendship was worth more than these petty fights that we thought meant so much to us? in the end, bitterness got the better of me. i didn't forget and i made sure he knew that. sometimes, remembering can overpower the forgiveness and that in itself is wrong and that was where i was wrong, just as i was countless other times. the memories of how extremely close we were together... they were also devestating. painful and heartbreaking, really.

when i lost my father, which is still a very ripe memory, i cannot explain the thoughts that had run through my head. the thoughts that still do. my memory of him is full of happiness and though there were moments when he wasn't at his finest, he always loved me and i loved him too. you know you love someone when you can feel for them even when they don't deserve it. when they aren't in their finest moments. i forgave him for this past decisions and mistakes because he was making retributions. i won't forget them because in the end, it helped me deal with his temper and his delusions very calmly when i became older. it made me more patient with him. for that, i thank myself for being so adament on not forgetting.

i find myself fearful though. as the days slowly move by and it's almost been four months i find myself losing my thoughts of him. i find myself thinking of him less and thinking more of what needs to be done. it terrifies me because it's so soon. i cry, from time to time. i miss him, all the time... when i remember. i miss him when i remember he's not home. i miss him when i remember he won't be there to talk to when i need it. i miss him when i realize he's gone... but i forget he's even gone sometimes. maybe this is moving on, but i don't want to, quite yet. i still want to revel in his memory, i still want to let myself be immersed by the melancholy of it all every once in awhile. as self-mutilating as this sounds, the pain reminds me i still feel.

immature as it is, everything would be better if he were here. i wouldn't be so skeptical of people's motives, i wouldn't be so doubtful of people's true intentions. i feel like everyone looks at me with such sympathetic eyes... like everyone can look at me and know i'm not okay. people on the bus speak to me more, especially when i'm sitting there, eyes looking to the floor and feeling the worst in my life. people ask me to go out when i've been feeling low and depressed. i feel as if people look at me and see it... see what i'm feeling and i don't want to be so see-through. i don't want people to know that i'm in agony sometimes because in the end, it's easier to cry alone then to have someone hold you. because when someone holds you, you start to worry. "how am i going to thank this person?" or "how am i going to explain why i'm like this?" not only that, but you begin to worry about silly things. "i'm making their shirt wet," or "what if their arms are becoming tired?"

i fear that people are only nice to me because they know what's happened. i feel they're only being there for me because i seem like some tiny, pathetic little girl who's completely lost. like a child in a supermarket crying because they can't find their daddy. it's like everyone is that stranger that asks if i'm okay and they'll make sure to find my dad. taking my hand, they'll lead me through the aisles and once i find him, they'll leave. i'm not sure i can do that, to be completely honest. i don't know if i can have people that are so interchangeable in my life. i have a hard of enough problem when it comes to making sure that people that are in my life, stay.

though of course, this seems so self-centred. i really don't mean to sound like some bratty child. i'm not sitting here thinking everyone's attending to my every tear. i know people have lives and i know people don't sit there and wonder what i'm thinking... i know that. it's precisely why i won't ask someone to listen to me when i'm upset. it's arrogant to be honest, i'd much prefer to be humble.

it's just one of those days where i look at things and wonder why. why do people keep living after their heart is broken? how do people take so many things for granted? why do people let go of each other so easily...?

i apologize to my father. i remember you. i love you and i miss you. i wish you were here so you could participate in my life... but i'm getting by, dad. i'm going into my second semester of my first year and i know you'd be happy and proud. i promise to make sure this won't happen to anyone else. i'll make sure their symptoms are noticed. i'll save so many people because i know you'd want that. i know you'd want people to live on because life is precious, right? life is something you can't mess around with. not when someone as deserving as you had it taken so suddenly.

rest assured, i'll do my best. in the name of you.

2008-12-02T14:23:00.000-08:00

the other day i was asked the question: how can you stand be always be alone?

at first i didn't know how to answer. i think i just smiled and said that it was how i did things. i don't remember, to be honest. though now that i think of it, i wonder myself why i've been so apt to being alone in these times, in these hard times.

i know for a fact i'm alone all the time at my home because the person that was always with me is gone. my hero, my best friend left me in this home with my things and sometimes that is enough to make me enjoy my lonliness. in a sense, if i can't have him, i don't want to have anything. it's some sort of bittersweet act of remembering him, i guess. it feels wrong when i'm with people in this house because to me, this house isn't so much a home anymore. not to offend my step mother. she is like a second mother to me and i love her; i just found my home with my father where ever he was. where he is now, isn't necessarily my home right now.

i could go out. there's many people that i'm sure would spend time with me if i'd only ask. i don't like to ask for things, though, and i fear that i'll have inconvenianced someone if i ask for a couple hours to go for a walk or a coffee. i don't do those things any longer and they get lonely when i do them on my own. again, not to offend anyone. i know there's many people that love me and want to be here for me when they can... i appreciate and respect you all for that.

i guess i've just gotten used to being alone. in a sense, i feel as if i'm lost in a maze of vine covered stone walls. it's confusing, it's mind-boggling. i search and always reach a dead end. just tonight i took a walk to the store down the street and the last time i had done that, was with my father. it hurt to walk down the street and i refuse to walk the back path home. it felt as though i was replacing his memories with newer, lonlier ones. i want to keep things with him as recent as possible. i know i can't, but i want to keep the things we did together just our things and sometimes, like taking a simple walk to a store, that can't happen. i also found myself the entire time wishing i had someone bundled up and cold walking beside me, just talking to me so i could forget how much it was hurting with each step i took.

i'm lost. a part of what i am, a part of who i was is gone. the man that was involved in creating me is gone and it feels like that half is missing. sometimes i wouldn't mind a hand to hold or a body to hug. sometimes i feel social and when i do, i usually make sure i go out and socialize. a lot of the time, though, i want time to myself. i want time to remember him and to remember what we had. i want time to remember how special it was. a lot of the time, it's mostly me trying to make sense of everything. attempting to fit all the pieces together and not being able to. i find myself speaking positively in the words i know dad would tell me. it isn't always enough, but it's getting me by.

i guess i detached myself from people when it happened. i figured, i'm already hurt enough. i don't need to be around other people... they can make me hurt more. i'm still scared that people will hurt me. i guess i need to give more credit to the human race...

maybe after christmas and the crazy drivers go back to normal though.

2008-11-30T16:58:00.000-08:00

it's embarrassing. grief can leave you in such a state of embarrassment that i'm not sure anyone would find it funny if a comedian spoke of it. i guess no one really knows what it is to be embarrassed by your own pain until you've gone through it. i guess crying after you've hurt yourself once you're over the age of 10 can slightly compare to grief of losing your hero, but it's a little bit different.

people tell me it's okay. people tell me that it's going to happen; i'll cry in random places, even in public. as much as i hate to believe it, i know it's true; it's embarrassing. i've cried on a bus. a couple times. it was only a few tears and it was gone. it was okay. it wasn't that embarrassing.

i can't deal with certain topics anymore. i can't deal with apathy and death. i'm not scared of death but i don't look at it like it is some unimportant part to life. it bothered me last night that the movie dealt with those concepts. it hurt because i kept thinking of how everyone else feels when you die. how this vulnerability just begins to grow inside you and as much as you want to think you're strong, you only feel yourself becoming weak.

it's not like i hadn't cried in front of these people before. one has seen me through thick and thin. one has seen me through thin. it was embarrassing to be sobbing in front of these people, to be holding so tightly onto the one. it hurt and inside i kept telling myself to pull it together, to be strong. i kept telling myself to be a statue again. to start playing it like i was okay. i kept saying i was sorry. i felt like i was ruining in the mood and i feel i did.

i just hate it. i hate being so embarrassed by this pain and i hate hiding it. i hate having to put on a brave front and keep acting so optimistic when all i want to scream to the world is that it'll never be perfect. that it'll never be the way you want it and to take whatever you can and cherish it. to refuse to let it go but not letting go is another sign of weakness.

i'm not ready to say goodbye to him. i'm not sure i ever will. i miss him with each passing moment, with each snowflake that falls on the ground. with every walk i take, i wish he were there beside me, talking my ear off. with every smile, every laugh, every joke... i wish he could see it. i wish he could hear it. i wish he could experience what i'm experiencing because the world is such a phenominal place and as much as i don't want to be optimistic, i have no where else to go. i have nothing else to fall back on but the positive reinforcements i keep trying to explain to myself.

there's just so much he's missing out on and i feel regret for that. he'd be proud of me, i know he would. i know he'd be rooting for me, telling me that he believes in me and that as long as i do the best i can, that as long as i've prepared as much as i can, then that's all i could have done. that i've put everything in it and that's enough for him. i just wish i could hear these words from his mouth. i just wish i could hear his voice telling me that i'm right on track; that he's watching me.

that's one thing about death that i'll never be able to accept. the fact you lose so much with them. along with their physical appearance and their presence... you lose their voice. you lose their touch and their charm. their laughter leaves you... you begin to remember the times you've had but you lose the details. you forget their tone, how they would laugh. how they looked when they laughed. you forget how they'd look at you with such sympathy, how you could see the pain in their eyes when they've seen you're hurting inside. how their brow furrowed in concentration or concern. how they'd look when they gave you a present they thought you'd like in your utter surprise.

as the band Of Montreal says in their song, The Past is a Grotesque Animal, "It's embarrassing to need someone like I do you. How can I explain? I need you here and not here too."

2008-11-24T10:21:00.000-08:00

i have heard grief be referred to as many things. a staircase, a mountain, seasons of the year. i have also considered a new metaphore for grief.

the ocean has been a prominent noun in my vocabulary for a long time. my father grew up near the atlantic ocean. i spent a few of my summers by the same atlantic ocean, on the same beach as my father. i have always longed for the smell of the ocean, especially when i am far from what feels like my home. my nights were fitful and i was well rested when i visted his hometown because i would fall asleep to that ocean breeze; the cool nature of that area. i would also fall asleep to the lingering smell of salt that would soothe me. i remember staying up most of the night reading, just so i could take in the smells of my nana's house. sometimes, when i walk home at night, i receive an instance of those familiar scents. i stop on the sidewalk and clothes my eyes, breathing it in until it is no longer there.

grief, is very much like an ocean. when i first found out about my father's illness, this was my feet testing out how cold the atlantic really was. when he became sicker, when the symptoms began to show more, this was me wading out into the ocean. over the past three years, i was sitting in this ocean, wading and, ironically, waiting for what i could only feel was going to happen. it became warm after a while but soon my body would be thrust deeper and it would become colder. as the ocean, it was never stationary, his illness; his symptoms.

when i found out that night, that night that is forever imprinted in my mind like a tattoo on the grey matter of my brain, i was pulled under by a current. i was thrust head under and i couldn't breathe. i was swimming, exerting all energy i had to reach the top again but as soon as i could see the sky beginning to break through i was pulled underneath once more. it was terrifying and numbing, i was beginning to lose the strength to keep on pushing for the division between the air and the water.

i became cold. i became so tired and cold and i could feel my lungs wanting to burst from lack of oxygen. i could feel hands pulling for me, trying to help me out. pull after pull, i began to move closer and i could see the sun spilling over. i pushed my head through and broke the water's wall. i breathed in large gulps and looked thankfully at the people that had kept me from becoming enthralled in my pain, in the aching of my heart.

it hasn't gone away. i am still, time to time, pulled under by this wave. sometimes i let it carry me for miles out into the ocean before i dare to try and reach out for a single breath and other times it is sudden and i'm terrified, just wanting to breathe; to be happy. it's this sudden onset and sometimes you can see it coming. you can see the hurt, and the pain, and that emptiness coming back and you try so hard to fight it. like the fin of a shark while you have a bleeding ankle, you wish to God that something will save you; will pull you to safety and though you see this, you can do nothing. nobody understands what you're trying to say. "how can you see that him being gone is going to affect you more in a few days?" or "how can you know you're going to be sad. couldn't you just change it?"

unfortunately, it isn't like that. it's this slow degradation into it and you try so hard to smile and be happy and you cannot. it consumes you in the end as the shark would and you feel the guilt for everyone else settling. i should make you happy. i should make you feel good about yourself. i shouldn't be some "bump on a log".

the ocean, though in most times it is a symbol of home... here it is the metaphore of the acute pain i feel from his death.

2008-11-22T20:51:00.001-08:00

there a times when i wander the house aimlessly. where i don't remember getting up and beginning the adventure because when it ends, it ends in blurred vision. i walk down the stairs from my room. i look around the corner to the dining room and no one's there. i turn and look around the other corner and no one is in the bathroom. i turn and walk down to the basement and look down the stairs. no one. i come back and the kitchen is empty. the living room is also empty.

i search rooms for something to bring me back to reality. i don't want to go on the computer. there are people worth talking to but i don't feel like typing. i'm really interested in the plot of my book, but i don't want to hold the pages apart to read it. i'm too tired to open my textbooks.

i always find myself in the living room. staring aimlessly out the window. staring down the houses outside wondering who's going to blink first. i turn away shortly from the white of the snow and the warm houses holding happy, or what i perceive, as happy families.

i turn to the table between the two windows and feel a sadness encompass me. i hold each item carefully, as if they'll fade away in my hands. as if i might handle them wrong and they will turn to dust. who ever thought reading glasses were so precious? who knew there'd be a wanting to wear the sweater so neatly folded on the table....

i open the box, feeling as if i've broken some kind of rule. i look inside and take a deep breath as i stare at the second container. the real container. i look at what is left of him. what is left of the 18 years he was in and the 54 years he lived. i stare at until my eyes begin to burn but i know if i'll blink i'll cry again. so i close the lid and look at the grown. i turn my toes on the carpet as a child would when asking a question whilst being scared of the answer. i put my hands behind my back and revert to my old, childish self.

i come here to be close to him because this is the only room you can feel him. because you can picture him so easily sitting on the couch that no longer inhabits the room. you can see him with his feet on the coffee table. a blanket around his bare chest, those important reading glasses resting at the end of his nose. his surprise to see you there. him asking for a kiss goodnight, or a hug goodbye. you can see him peacefully on the couch, after he left. you can picture it so well, so much that sometimes, it's damaging.

these glasses, this sweater. these are his things that will never be of any importance to many people. and i'm shaken from the daze and notice where i am. so i sit down the floor then lay down on my back, sprawling myself out. i close my eyes, listening to the quiet. being as still as possible in fear i may hear him once again. in fear i might lose the one moment where he reaches out to me.

this room is like cocaine for an addict.

2008-11-21T19:41:00.000-08:00

mondays and tuesdays are early days for me. school and my alarm clock pushes me to roll out of bed and put on this facade. to put on some sort of show for those that are near me. i don't want them to see how i hurt. i don't want them to realize that i'm not coping too well.

these days are the days i don't have that lightness before i wake up. where i don't feel you there. these are the days where i forget that you left for someplace better. someplace that could offer you everything you needed. i find comfort in that.

i find little comfort in events, objects, or conversations. i don't feel as if i'm getting better but i know i'm getting by. i change my clothes. i touch my hair, my head. i slowly walk down the darkened stairs and for a split second, i can feel you. i can feel that you're still here. i keep walking, this sharp hope exploding inside my chest. i'm waiting to come to the end of the stairs where i'll see the living room light on. where i will see you with your feet on a pillow which is on the coffee table. where your glasses will be at the end of your nose and a blanket around your bare torso. where you'll be reading a book and you'll look up and ask why i'm up so early. i guess in this case you'd ask what i'm going to be doing in school today.

so for this split second, i have this hope in me that is only set up for failure. i find that once i see that living room darkened, once i stop feeling your presence, that you're gone. that i've stumbled onto the misty world of memories that seem to come alive.

i look out the window, imagining seeing the back of your head as you read your book. a plate of crackers beside you. watching the animals, watching the leaves, saying hi to everyone that passes the house. it's almost like you're there and then you start to fade away.

you're always fading away. it hurts to reach out, to stumble for arms that are disappearing right before your eyes. i've skinned my knees and hands far too many times and i wonder when it will stop. when i will wake up and won't feel that hope that explodes. when i won't disappoint myself.

because one day that explosion of hope is going to kill me.

2008-11-20T10:34:00.000-08:00

in the morning before i wake i can feel you there, watching me. i can hear you breathing and i can hear a quiet snicker under your breath. your presence is defeating and as much as i want to wake and say hello to you my body is paralyzed with fear.

i think of the many things you were to me. a father, a friend, a confidant. you were more than you needed to be and i can feel your hand on my head. you run your fingers through my hair and i feel warmth igniting my body. i can feel your eyes watching me with nothing but love and adoration.

though i sense a heaviness about you. a weight that cannot be lifted and an impending sadness takes away the lightness. i can feel you start to fade with the sunlight. i can feel your hand no longer touching my hair, but your hand grasping for my arm, telling me it is time.

i wake in a cold sweat under a hot comforter. i look about the room and see nothing but the same old mess that seems to inhabit not only my room, but every aspect of my life. i put my hand to my head, feeling my hair, feeling my cheek. i can't feel you anymore.

so i look forward to those mornings. where i'm between half sleeping and half waking. where i can feel you watching me so delicately, wishing you could tell me the things you never got to say. this is where i can find solace in my day, in my life apart from you. where i start to think that maybe you aren't gone.

then the cold, hard reality hits and my peacefulness is gone. this is almost unbearable but enough to make me keep living. for those moments where no one can interfere. for those moments where i still have you by me. for those moments of absolute peace.

2008-11-13T20:14:00.000-08:00

When I say something to a person
I expect them to keep it to themselves.
Unless it is something that is completely
inconsequential and has no meaning.

This had meaning. This was personal.
You took it upon yourself to repeat it.

I'm sorry.

I don't need an echo.
I can speak for myself if I want to.
I could tell him if it bothered me.

Not you.

2008-11-10T19:46:00.000-08:00

If there is one thing about Western culture that seems to bother me, it's the censorship on nudity. I'm not speaking of pornography. I'm not even speaking sex in the terms of nudity being censored, but more so just the aspect of a person being nude. You can be arrested for walking around the city naked which I feel, is a little absurd. Why? Let's go through the motions.

The Bible: Many would see this as the driving force against the act of nudity. Adam and Eve covered themselves up after having eaten the apple, had they not? They had realized that they felt ashamed and that is the punishment. That, however, does not explain why nudity is considered "bad". It was fine before they ate from the apple. It was only afterwards that the devil had "touched" them that they began to realize it was "wrong". It was never said to be wrong. In fact, it was never said that it was immoral at all, from my understanding. This is not meant to negate the bible. I once believed in it as do many, but it does not aid in the meaning of censorship of the body.
Biology: This is what makes me misunderstand the censorship on nudity. Every male has the same parts and the female, save genetic mutations, etc. Every male has testicles and a penis. Every female has breasts and a vagina. There's not much else to say.

In Europe, the body is looked at as beautiful. Here, the face is looked at as beautiful and hey, so is the body if you're old enough to buy those sorts of trashy magazines. Which reminds me of a topic I really would like to sink my teeth into.

Pornography is one of the main reasons the body is not seen as it should be. It's lude and unrepresentative of the population. It portrays sex in the manner of one thing; pleasure. Though it can be for that purpose (and maybe I have an idealistic view of sex) I couple that with also the fact I would want to be close to that person. Of course, I'm not saying things like sex toys or costumes or whatever else there may be is wrong, but it does not need to be filmed and put all over the internet or media.

The media also makes it an awful big deal. Sex scenes in movies are unrealistic. They don't transition as smoothly. They aren't as hot and bothered as they are portrayed either. Passion can definitely be felt but I'd be surprised if a couple acted the same way as they do in films.

I feel these factors contribute to everything. Young teenagers having sex, the negative outlook on the body, and the superficial aspect of sex. Our reproductive drive is nothing to be shy of and though it's a private matter between two people (or maybe three?), it is still a fact of life that shouldn't be ignored and become a taboo topic.

What's your two cents?

2008-11-06T20:52:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, there's thoughts that run through my head that don't seem to really mix with anything. It's like sitting on a bus looking out the window. And you begin to see your reflection but it's not clear enough so you're not sure how you really look. And you want to know how you look because you want people to notice you. You don't want to be that fading reflection in the bus windows.

Thoughts of how much you miss someone while you're walking down you street and you see your house. How you remember him sitting in the chairs outside reading and eating a sandwich. How he'd sometimes walk up and meet you. How you always knew he was there and now there's a big hole where he was.

You think of ways to kill yourself with the objects around you. You hunt for the scenario of how you'll end it and how you'll make sure everyone sees it. And then you feel guilty because no one deserves that. And then you begin to wonder what do other people deserve. Then you begin to wonder, what the hell do I deserve?

Not this, right? Not whatever is going on. The stress makes your eye twitch. When you wish it would stop because not only do you feel nervous about having a weird twitch in your eye, but you're nervous that others can see it and think you're going to go postal.

How do these fit? How do these thoughts connect? There is of course one macro-emotional event that has caused all of these but you take it apart and you see so many parts. You see the anatomy of your heart; your soul. You see the artery sending the viscous pain that seems to cling to every chamber of your heart. You see the vein taking away the slow dripping happiness. You see the blackened tar on the heart from the concoction of anger and fear. You see what you're donig to yourself and it scares you. Too much to do anything.

Because you're not trained to fix a dying heart. You aren't trained to fix a broken heart. So you stitch the heart back up. You forget the anatomy involved and leave it as it is. Slowly dying under the pressure of books and tests and assignments. Slowly immobilizing the muscles in your face to smile or the reaction to laugh.

You die inside and that's when they've really lost you.

2008-11-03T10:36:00.000-08:00

I put my eye to the eye of the
telescope. Their words run through me.

"She won't stop looking through it."
"I think she's gone insane."
"She's looking for something, right?"

I am. I'm searching for the man that
left me at the wrong time.

I'm searching for the unconditional
love of a father that left far too
soon. My life is crashing like the
meteor showers.

My heart is a free-flying asteroid.
Crashing through others like a
hurricane without a second thought
of what I'm becoming.

Small. Tiny. Barely large enough to
pass through the atmosphere and
still be a tangible object.

I look through the telescope in hopes
I might see him crashing too. I look
for him in case the stars are my map
to where he can be found.

He's lighting my way. That is what I'm
hoping. If I can find him, I can find myself.

2008-11-03T04:15:00.001-08:00

I touch you and I feel a warmth
wash over me. A flame I am
willing to be burnt by if that is
how this story may play out.

My heart is on a fish line, swaying
in the wind as you hastily attempt
to catch it. It's cold and once
again, you are my saviour.

When I think of you not being here
in my life, I start to tremble.
Perhaps with oncoming tears or
a sympathetic response to fear.

Whichever it may be, it hurts
sometimes; how much I want
you there. Through the bad times
but the good times too.

They can happen. I have faith in
happiness as long as your warmth
is by my side. As long as you're
lighting my way in the dark.

Maybe you're strong, maybe
you're concrete... but even concrete
can buckle. Even pillars can
come crashing to the ground.

Perhaps I want to see that you
tremble sometimes too. That you're
fearful you may lose me. Or that
I'm worth the tears if I am lost.

Maybe I just want to comfort you
so what you do for me can be
reciprocated... but I know that can
never happen, right?

2008-10-26T17:27:00.001-07:00

I sit in my room, sobbing into my pillow as I have so many nights since the incident. I cough and try to stop my crying but I cannot. I can't pull myself from the pain and the hurt inside my chest that makes me cry out louder. "Daddy, where are you? I need my daddy. Come back... come back." I feel a warmth on my shoulder. I feel someone watching me and I turn to see him, looking at me with a sad smile. I frown and sniffle, wondering what's going on. "Dad?"

"I don't have much time here, bud. I just couldn't stand to see you crying so much anymore. I know you want me here, I know you want me to come back but I just can't and I'm so sorry." He looks down and I can see water falling onto his pants. I feel horrible for making him cry and start crying more. A hand touches my chin and pushes it up. "Head up, bud. No one ever go far looking down at the sidewalk." I smile a little and still feel tears falling out of my eyes. "I just wanted you to know that I love you so much and I am proud of you. I did see it. I've seen it all and those tears were shed. I'm sorry this happened but find solace in the fact that I am happy and that I know you will be too. You have too much going for you to not."

I feel him embrace me and the warmth envelopes me. His hands against my back, my head on his shoulder. I feel it all and I wrap my arms around him tightly. "I love you, daddy. So much."

Ah, who am I kidding. This crap doesn't help.

2008-10-22T18:47:00.001-07:00

I sit and stare at the water passing me by. The cold wind brushes against my arms and the leaves ruffle, some falling to their inevitable death. I look down at the grass and begin to stare at the carnage that Autumn has left so far. The crushed, the ripped, the crinkled leaves lying on the ground helplessly as people walk all over them.

The crisp air makes it known that the water will be far too cold for anything, not that I was planning on doing anything in the water. These meanlingless observations are what keep me from thinking about the absence that seems to fill every aspect of my life. Parts of my life that never involved him now have everything to do with him. He effects my work, my school, my therapy sessions. I want to think about something else, I want to walk away from the spot I so foolishly find myself sitting in all the time.

I can feel my bottom lip beginning to quiver, my brow furrowing. I stand up and let the wind wash over my face, drying any tears that were building up. I walk down the lonely path of fallen leaves and concrete, remembering all the times we would walk this path to the store. It's too beautiful in the Autumn, much more so than the Spring or Summer. Winter is impossible to walk through when it comes to this path.

I want to turn away from this path. I want to leave this place because my heart hurts too much when I'm here. I'm surrounded with the memories and the tears fall and then I feel empty inside. I begin to feel that absence that he has left, the piece of me that he took with me when he left. My body feels crippled, as if I walk with a gait or my eye twitches far too much. The wind carries me down the path to where I had to sit you down and run home to call her at work. Where you were really sick and throwing up. You were so proud that I had calmed you down when the snake came. You were so proud that I was making sure you were drinking water and sitting down. I had let you feel like you could do it and finally said you couldn't and you listened.

How could I have not known that that was just a pre-cursor? How could I have not seen that it was obviously a premonition of what was about to happen? It makes me feel as if I didn't do my duty as a person, a nurse, your daughter. I should have known and though people explain I could never have known, that isn't the case. My irrational thought is with me and I won't step down from it.

I still feel like I'm dreaming. Like she never came in and told me at midnight at my boyfriend's house. That going home and crying; the private viewing and the funeral were all nightmares. That you're still here somehow and you're so sad that I'm not talking to you. But I want to. I wish I could. I need your encouragement, I need your face or your arms or something tangible. I need to feel you near me because I just can't keep going on like this. I can't keep thinking of obvious, stupid facts to get my mind off you. I need to look past this and I can't because you were too big. You were too much a part of my life and it hurts so bad to know you aren't here anymore.

It hurts to know that this Friday at my graduation, I won't see your smiling, proud face, fighting tears. I won't get your hug, I won't get told, "I'm so proud of you, Heather. I love you." I won't go out for dinner with you. I won't have you there and it kills me the more I think about it.

I just want it to stop. Just to stop.

2008-10-09T20:32:00.000-07:00

It begins when I start and it ends when I do
but when do I end? I don't, I keep going and
that is what it all comes down to in the end.
I am a machine that works hard all day and
yet in the end, there is no pay off. My hours,
my tears, my sweat are put into everything.

I miss him more than he could know and
maybe keeping busy is a good thing. But
somehow it feels like I'm cheating myself
out of really knowing what it's like to miss
him. I hope he know I'm hanging onto him
and all his memories that make me who
I am. I'll never forget his smile. Impossible.

I'm trying my hardest and it's all I can really
ask of myself at the moment. You've helped
me so far along and I'm begging you to keep
on doing what you are. You're giving me proof
that people don't walk out when you need
them most. Please don't lose me. Don't let me go.

I'm scared of so much because he's gone but
slowly I'm learning to smile again. To be honest,
I'm scared to death that things won't work out
with anything in my life. I love him and I love
you and that's okay because you're just like him.
He was my idol growing up and you will be
the example I make out of every other man.

Just please mean it when you say you love me.

2008-10-05T17:20:00.000-07:00

Instead of an oil painting, so defined
and clearly painted, I have become
a charcoal portait of sincere heart ache.
I feel myself slipping every now and
then and I know my lines are smudging.
I'm attempting to hold on to myself and
hold onto the things I love but I wish to
follow the one that let go. I cannot
begin to imagine him leaving me.

I'm not eager to see the sun of tomorrow,
or the clouds, or the rain. I'm not interested
in what the next day holds or the grades I
so easily say I care about but know I don't
any longer. It's not about making him proud
anymore, it's about making the others believe
I'm okay. But I'm not okay, alright?

I feel a swelling, a bursting in my chest. I can
feel the emotion overcoming me and the it
allows me to think I'm drowning. I can't breathe,
I can't speak, I sit there with tears forming in
my eyes and I let it happen; it forces me.

I go for hours without feeling a thing, I become
numb and then every once in a while I sob. I
clumsily wipe the tears from my face in fear
someone might have heard or someone will soon
see me with my reddened eyes. It hurts.

I'm beginning to break and the edges are
beginning to sharpen. My body is wilting, my
will is leaving and my hope is non-existent.
I do not go to bed feeling it will be better
tomorrow and I do not wake thinking it will
ever change. I'll never stop feeling this.

This premature heartbreak shouldn't be felt.
Not yet. But I am here, living on and I do not
want to. It is better to be busy than to lie around
depressed; except in the case that everything
is half-assed and completely dulling my mind.
Everything reminds me of him. Everything makes
me want to cry. I want to stop crying.

And maybe in the act that I stop crying, I want to
stop this aching I feel in my heart constantly. I want
to stop the burning of the tears and and the waking
up thinking he'll be there waiting for me. I want to
forget what happened and continue to go on with life
as if it never happened. Without the sadness.

2008-09-21T07:47:00.000-07:00

It was awkward, clusmy
completely different.
New, anxious, it was
nerve-racking at best.
It was painful, natural,
wholly exciting.
It was beautiful, caring,
gentle with love.
It was everything; more.
It was utter bliss and
happiness.

It was my world melting.

2008-09-14T16:02:00.000-07:00

I am a double-sided tape deck.
My songs include:

Side One:
I miss you
I need you
I want you with me
Hold me
Make it better
Be home when I get there
Let me wake up knowing you're here
Tell me you love me
Let me tell you I love you

Side Two:
These pills aren't working
I don't want to breathe
Waking up isn't easy
Living life has never been harder
It'll never be okay
You'll never be here again
I'll never see you
No more hellos
No more words
No heartbeat
I miss you

2008-09-09T19:11:00.000-07:00

The only times I don't miss you
is when I forget that you're
gone.

2008-08-30T13:23:00.000-07:00

i've cried my tears
and over the years
i've had to learn
how to silently yearn
for those that leave
and the following heave
of emotional vomit
that's made from it

i apologize sincerely
if i appear to think clearly
my heart is in agony
from the choired symphony
of death hymns written
smiles smug and so smitten
hands clasped in desperation
dripping with perspiration

with aching knees
and sleeping in your tees
at night i long to run
just to make the sun
never return into the sky
so i don't have to say goodbye

overwhelming effort, tired sighs
this time you didn't open your eyes
forgiveness was there to start
the minute you left, so at that part
i want to tear away from my mind
because i only end to find
an empty space, a vastness of land
and phrases that don't understand
the digging pain, the early grave
and all the love that you gave

i turn to myself in the mirror
and only see you, but you're not near
my hands are fists
and like you, i have tiny wrists
that embellish my arms
like yours, that kept me from harm
laughing eyes with pain inside
that no one sees and that we hide
because we are the jesters
though the pain inside festers
and we laugh into the night
until we realize it's not all right
and then we cry into our hands
with dreams of other lands

and yet you have left me
there's nothing to see
because every me was every you
i'm left not knowing what to do
as the soundtrack changes
my life rearranges
and adapts to the empty space
and the bitter taste
of death and incessant wanting
with memories flaunting
making me salivate to the thought
of being happy with what i've got

2008-08-27T11:02:00.000-07:00

I open my eyes to a meadow. It is unkept and wild, with tall grass and flowers. The sky is empty without a cloud in site but the sun is shining so bright that it pains me to look towards the blue of the sky. I am barefoot, dressed in a knee length skirt and a t-shirt. In my hands I am clutching the hem of my skirt.

I take a step forward, knowing I'm here for a reason. I take another step and look around. I can feel my heart beating faster as I realize there is no one to be seen for miles. I breathe in deeply and feel my heart contracting. To each there is a pain that I have never suffered before.

Sitting down, I can feel an emptiness inside that I have never felt before. A vastness of lonliness begins to pour inside and the utter hopelessness enters. No, he isn't coming back and no matter how long you search this earth, this meadow, he will not materialize. He won't speak the words you long to hear and he won't hug you with the arms you long to feel. These are the simple facts of life and yet they are the hardest to understand. He isn't gone, entirely. No, his memories live on, he lives on within you but that just isn't good enough right now. Thoughts enter my mind. What ifs. What if I forget how he laughed or how he smiled. Maybe I'll forget his eyes, or his hands. His eyes, my eyes. Everyone says I look like him. Not only am I afraid people won't be able to love me because of that, but I'm afraid I'll never stop missing him because I'll always see him in myself.

Laying down within the meadow, I let the viscous sadness enter me. I cry and I wail. I sob and I choke on the saliva and the words I'll never get to say to him. This is truly what loss must feel like. This is what a heart breaking really feels like. I always miss him and though I won't make it my mission to find him, I will walk this meadow until I do see him. I love him. I won't say goodbye because I know it'll only be some time before I see him once again.

2008-08-23T16:14:00.000-07:00

As a child, I was an introvert. I'd lie to my friends just to stay inside and clean my room. I remember, I put a tape of Billy Joel's in my tape player and kept rewinding Uptown Girl. I clean my entire room, vacuumed it, dusted it, then went downstairs. I cut a few roses from the rose bush, found a vase and put them on a small table that was in my room. Then I went and made a sandwich for myself, sat down at the table and just stared out my window. I can't remember how long I did this. It must have been a few hours.

It's just funny how that's changed now. I'm so dependent on people and I always need attention. Maybe I needed too much of it when I was little. I'm not sure. I don't remember being that demanding once I hit the age of six. I know after that I was usually a quiet girl that liked to be by herself. I didn't like to ask for things.

Right now, I don't know what's wrong with me. I watched a movie today and at the end I just started sobbing. I was laughing and crying and just going, "What's wrong with me?" Like. Something is really wrong with me.

Lately I've been crying a lot because of something going on in my life. I wish I could forgive you. I wish you would give me a reason to forgive you. I wish you could prove to me you're sorry. Something simple. Something sweet. Something to fix it. I'm waiting for you to fix the damage. I can't wait much longer. I can't clean my room, listen to Billy Joel, cut roses and eat a sandwich. I can't wait forever.

2008-08-21T17:45:00.000-07:00

I can't deliver something sweet or something delicate. I'm not that kind of person. I can only offer what I have and for some reason, all that ever is, is sadness. My world, my hopes, my every dream ends in sadness for me. I don't mean to sound angsty, or over-emotional. It's not the sadness where I want to die or I cry my eyes out constantly. It's really just a dull ache which leads to the topic I want to talk about.

My therapist told me she didn't need to see me anymore. That I was over the bad things that happened in my life and that I was on my way to a really good recovery. I am still on my medication and that scares me. I see my psychiatrist on September 5th and to be honest, we're speaking about what's going to happen to my medication.

I don't want to keep taking it. I want to believe that once I am slowly weened off of these pills that things won't change. That my life will still be the way I see it now. Full of possibilities. Sure I have hard times, but I just breeze past them. I make ways over and under and around them and if I can't, I take it head on.

Last time I went off my pills, it was bad. It ended badly and I was depressed. Not for the mere fact I was off of my pills, but also because I thought I was really going to be okay without them. They give you this false sense of security and I think that's the problem with anti-depressants. You believe you're happy and okay and then you go off them and you begin to relapse. Everything comes flooding back and you lose site of all those ambitions you had before. I wish I could just tell myself it's my seratonin levels and get over it, but I can't.

Not only is my grandfather in the hospital, but my nana is also. She's dying, basically. She's held on strong for three years after Tony died but I think the news of my grandfather (her first husband) having cancer pushed her over the edge. I don't know how long she's going to hold out really.

I want to believe I'm okay with it. That I've accepted it and it's not just the pills speaking for me. I also want to think that I'm over him. So far I've been okay with talking about him, seeing him, and just all together hearing about him. It doesn't bother me now. But what if that's because of the pills? Do I want to go back to that emptiness again because I just don't want to take a pill every night before I go to bed? Better yet, do I want to feel how I should feel? How I was programmed to feel?

I'm not sure anymore. I really just don't know.

2008-08-19T13:59:00.000-07:00

I like missing you more than you think but
I don't want to miss you like this. I don't
like to wait so long to speak to you, to talk
to you; you don't bother to consider that
I don't know how to entertain myself like
you can.

I like loving you even when I don't know if
it's okay. What I really mean is even when
I'm upset with you, even when you don't
deserve it, I still adore you in every possible
way.

I want you to chase me when I step away. To
catch me and hold on tight. To hold me for long
moments; no kissing, no speaking, just our
bodies needing each other. Knowing neither one
of us wants to let go.

2008-08-14T16:23:00.000-07:00

Boy: Hey, how have you been?
Girl: Fine, I guess.
Boy: Anything new happening?
Girl: Yeah.
Boy: Like what?
Girl: [laughs]
Boy: Why are you laughing?
Girl: Because I know if I don't I'll cry.
Boy: Why?
Girl: Does it even matter to you?
Boy: Of course it does, I love you.
Girl: Yes, yes, that's right. After you barely speak to me or attempt to contact me, when you rarely pay me the attention I feel I need from you when we're together and feeling like I'm taking a back seat to everything.... Right. You love me.
Boy: What are you talking about?
Girl: Well you wouldn't know! You're never around to talk to! You're never here.
Boy: Excuse me?
Girl: I told you important news. I've been denying it and all I need right now is you. As inconveniencing as that is for you, I need you. I need to hear you speaking to me. Or at least something that lets me know you still even think of me. An e-mail, a phone call. It's like you're never there.
Boy: I am here for you. I am right now.
Girl: I'm not even sure of that.

I'm sure whomever reads this might understand why.

2008-08-09T15:39:00.000-07:00

I don't like to feel so unimportant.
Undesirable.
Unwanted.

I miss you.
I missed you.
I want to see you.
Once I don't hurt.

It was rude.
Unneeded.
Unnecessary.

I don't like it at all.
It really upset me.
I tried to ignore it.

Why do you need to do those things?;
When you know it hurts me?
So tell me.

What's in your defense?

2008-07-26T14:52:00.001-07:00

I meet new people. I explain
my situation to them. I don't
hide the medication, I don't
crawl away when it's time to
take it. Dutifully I take one
pill every night, in hopes it
will help me get on with life.

Well this sorrow inside is
persistent, it doesn't leave so
easily. It take ahold of my lungs
and will not let them go until
my chest is tight. Sometimes I
can't breathe and then the
tears come fast and fall quickly.

I've taken these pills for over
a year. I took them to forget
him and I'm taking them to
forget the emptiness that slowly
takes over my body. My
ambiguity is becoming too
constant for my liking.

My viscous, honey-like pain
sticks to my veins and confines
what little happiness I have.
They have become the white
blood cell and happiness is the
bacteria that must be destroyed.

Without these pills, though, it
all comes rushing back. The
memories, the photos, the
laughter and the happiness I
once knew I could find. So
it's the lesser of the two evils.

It's like I'm broken, but they
won't fix me until I've completely
c r a s h e d.

2008-07-24T18:44:00.001-07:00

I'll never forgive her. I'll never be able to tell her I'm proud of her. I can never say that I love her unconditionally. I can never feel that she loves me unconditionally. She will never change. She will never love me the way she should. I will never be first in her life ever again. I never really was. I will never know the comfort of having a mother again. I will never know what it's like to have a mother that cares. I don't want to hear her say she's sorry for today. I want to hear her say she's sorry for never making me her priority. I want her to hear she's sorry for the past seven years of my life. I want her to feel so bad that she missed out on everything that's happened in my life during those years. Nothing really happened.

I want her to cut all ties with me so I don't have to.

I want her to say goodbye so I don't have to deal with her bullshit.

And I feel bad for thinking all of this.

2008-07-23T09:43:00.001-07:00

I was always tiny growing up. My
mother called me "shorty" long
before it became a word to describe
a partner. I would wear clothes
from life size dolls and I was wearing
a 6x until I was nine.

I used to be the taller one in my classes.
Never thinking about it, everyone
began to grow around me and I didn't.
At 5'2" I'm one of the shorter people
in my peer group.

Maybe this is how people can forget me
so easily. I'm tiny? I'm small? I'm
so insignificant that people can accidentally
forget I'm still here. It bothers me.

Does anyone even ask if I'm missing when
I'm not around? More importantly, do
they care? Is someone missing me? More
importantly, is he missing me? Do I want
him to miss me?

What do I want him to feel?

More importantly, what do I want to feel?

2008-07-14T18:19:00.000-07:00

At one point, we all have a moment where we think we're terrified. I remember once I was challenged to climb to the top of a swing set. It was a wooden, home-made swing set. Adam, the boy I was going to marry was the one that challenged me. At four years old, I climbed to the top of the swing set and realized I couldn't get down. I was sobbing and crying and holding on for dear life. I begged Adam to run and get his father in which he did.

After he climbed up and got me, I was horrified of heights. I had nightmares of being at the top of large monkey bars unable to let go for fear of dying but not being able to move from the spot unless I'd let go. Now that I think of it, it seemed to be a very deep, philosophical dream for someone of my age that I could interpret for many different things.... Though I'm running from the topic of this post.

To the man I love with every ounce of me.... I apologize if at the moment I'm hanging on too tight. I fell very, extremely hard before you came along for someone else and there wasn't anyone to catch me. This time, the stakes are higher and the heights I'm sitting at make what happened before look like nothing. Just know that, please? I might be squeezing, I might be sobbing and holding on for dear life, but just keep climbing down slowly and eventually, once we reach the ground together, I'll be okay. I just need you to show me that I don't have anything to be afraid of. That means I'm going to have to be afraid and have you show me that it's alright if I'm afraid. That I don't even need to be afraid. Until you show me you're not like the others... I'm going to be clinging on for dear life.

Don't let that frighten you. Don't let my instability and fear of heights push you away.

2008-07-14T07:16:00.000-07:00

In.
Out.
In.
Out.
It's habit forming.
It's unconsciously done.
The medulla oblongatta controls it.
Breathing.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
How simple it is.
How necessary it has been.
How easy it can be to forget.
Breathing.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
The pain is deadly.
My heart cannot beat regularly.
I need to force myself.
Breathing.

Just breathe.
Keep breathing.
I remind myself.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
Translating the throbbing.
Excusing the latest tears.
Digging deep down.
Breathing.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
Tomorrow will come.
Today will be gone.
Everything will still remain.
Breathing.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.

2008-07-07T14:41:00.000-07:00

My knees begin to shake as I'm
backed against the wall. I'm nervous.
Attempting to discern whether it's
hormones or the real thing, I'm doubting.
Hands grab and fingers slide, sweat is
not a problem because I'm ignorant.
It's overwhelming, the feeling. This is it.
This is for real. This is what I should feel.
This is you. This is me. This is us. Here.
Forgetting the world around us, we
become clumsy and soon, remember that
we are not the only ones in the universe.
Clinging to how close we were, how
closer we are, and how close we can be,
we rest. We talk. We love each other.

2008-07-01T19:06:00.000-07:00

"If this is loyalty to Abel, I'm tired of it. I admit that I love him. My love is a fact, like the law of gravity. But it doesn't change anything. What am I being loyal to? What is there left to betray?"
-Barbara Gowdy, The Romantic

This quote haunts me when I read this book. I have read it quite a few times and every time, this quote pushes me to the edge. I'm ashamed to write this. I'm ashamed I am writing this. I'm completely ashamed that this is still an issue.

I was lying to myself. I was lying to everyone and I'd feel bad about that if I hadn't betrayed myself too. It was this placebo effect, you know? I felt it was done. I felt it was o.k. It seemed like the right thing to do and maybe it was, because the right thing always hurts, right? Maybe? I hope so. It has to be. There has to be a loophole in this feeling. This can't be. I couldn't be lying to myself.

My heart didn't speed up when I thought it was him. I didn't feel the need to talk to him when it was him. I didn't feel anything and now, now that I've seen these photos and these videos; something is wrong here. Something isn't right. It can't change that sporadically. There has to be a kink in this chain.

Am I not allowed to miss it though? Can't I just want it back sometimes? Can't I just want him once in a while? I can't forget something that easily. I can't forgive and forget so easily and I cannot just push that out of my life. That was such a big part of my life. That was my heart! That was my fucking heart! I can't ignore how it changed. I can't ignore that right now the urge to cry is overtaking me and making me feel like I'm going to explode into an ocean.

People can't expect me to just forget it, can they? Can't they understand that I still want it sometimes? That I miss it dearly and I probably always will? It was everything I had for awhile. It was everything. It was my world. I know, that was stupid of me. I'm at fault for all of this. If I had just kept my guard up. If I had told her not to bring him, I'd have never seen him. Never heard of him. Never even had a second thought of who he was.

I grew. I grew with him and maybe it was for the worse. Maybe it was like a parasite growing off of another animal. Maybe it was just that bad, but... But that was my lesson and I'm still reeling from the consequences. I'm still healing this battered heart and I think I need people to realize I can't forget. I need to let myself realize I can't just forget it.

Who was I trying to convince? Everyone. Me. God. Everyone. I'm sorry. I'm just so sorry. I know he doesn't deserve how I feel, I know everyone thinks he's scum. I know the boy I love doesn't deserve me still thinking about what happened. I don't want him like that. I don't. I love my boyfriend. I just... I'm flirting with memories. I'm flirting and flaunting and it's getting me nowhere but a ditch by a road where I'm raped by my feelings.

I'm done.

2008-07-01T09:06:00.000-07:00

To be honest, I prefer to know reality and
the horrible things that come with it. I
believe in letting children be ignorant to the
bad things but letting them grieve those
that do seem bad. I look for the worst in
people because just like a blister, once that
is over with, the rest just doesn't seem so bad.
Maybe that's self-destructive; maybe a little
deductive research. Today though, it's just
one of those days. I want to fall back into
the sweet viscous liquid of my childhood and
not know the harm the world can bring. That
kisses fix the cuts, that other people die but
never the ones you love more. Just do that.

Tell me tomorrow will come faithfully and
everything will be the way it once was. With
everyone healthy and alive. With the joys
overtaking the sorrows. Lie to me. Tell me that
love really is enough in the world. All you need
is love. Tell me those stories, those fairy-tales.

Just for today.

2008-06-25T09:34:00.000-07:00

MORNING: Wake up, little girl! I have finally arrived with my sunshine shining bright! It should be a nice, cool morning but a comfortably warm day or so I hear from Afternoon!
GIRL: Please, leave me be, Morning. I didn't want to see you come!
MORNING: Did I do something wrong, little one? Have I not faithfully come every day, greeting you? Understandably not always with the sun but sometimes with heavy winds and dark grey skies; here I have been! Dutifully! Oh please tell me, what have I done?
GIRL: Oh, it is not you that has done wrong. The world continues to be the world and you continue to be you. Don't you see, he is not going to be here much longer.
MORNING: Who is he?
GIRL: My grandfather, Morning. He will soon be gone and no longer will you come to see him wake to your essence nor take a nap when Afternoon follows. We will be without his laugh and his smiles, his warm personality. Oh please don't come anymore.
MORNING: I can understand why you'd be upset, dear, but we cannot stop living for those that no longer live.
GIRL: He isn't gone yet! He could be, come tomorrow. He could be today, because you had to come. Could you just have been sick once? Missed one day of work?
MORNING: I have seen many people come into this world and many leave. It is heartbreaking, tearful, and extremely difficult to understand. The world cannot stop for there is no stopping the beginnings. The endings cannot be stopped either. The world must turn and I must come each day.
GIRL: Why must you hurt me so?
MORNING: Why must you let it hurt you so?

2008-06-22T17:17:00.000-07:00

I have an extremely interesting question to pose. Though no one reads these and it's hardly that interesting to do so anyway, I still would like to pose it in case anyone runs across this.

Parents always blame music, video games, T.V., movies, essentially, the media, for things that happen to their children. Whether the child is involved with drugs, sex, rock 'n' roll or end up committing suicide, parents blame anyone but themselves. I can't help but think, though, that had the parent sat down and talked to their child about what their child was listening to, or watching, or playing, or things like that, it wouldn't be the case.

Sometimes, it can't be helped, I do realize.

It is nice to see parents keeping an eye on what their children read, play, listen to, etc. I work at a video game store and it's disheartening when a parent buys a 9 year old an M rated game and they say, "They'll learn it somewhere." That's not the point. You're allowing a 9 year old child to play an M rated game, with your permission. I do condone the parents that watch the ratings on these games, though. It's nice to see.

The point is, is what about talking about the good things? Little girls everywhere grow up with fairy tales and the like, thinking love is some beautiful, magical thing and you'll always be with that boy you love. How come there is no warnings telling little girls it never works out that way?

I'm hardly a heart-broken girl right now. I'm in a beautiful relationship. But when teenage girls commit suicide because a boy breaks their heart, who is there to blame? Who can the parents put the blame on? Well, there isn't anything but these fairy tales. Why don't parents sit their children down and tell them, "This isn't how love is. It's different. It doesn't always work out. It can be painful."

I know... It's hard to tell your kids that there's bad things in the world when they're young. You want them to believe it's a happy place.... But what happens when there's a death? It's better to come out and tell them and let them grieve with you. Bad things happen, the world is not puppies and rainbows and children shouldn't be brought up on spoon-fed Skittle syrup.

So I pose this question.

Should parents be more involved in their children's lives? With the good things and the bad? Fairy-tales and Marilyn Manson?

I think so.

2008-06-08T06:06:00.000-07:00

This
I want this to fill the void I've made within myself.
I feel like a hallowe'en jell-o mold, where I have
the outside walls but I'm only an outline of skin.
So many emotions have left their place and I don't
want myself vacant for so long in case an
uninvited guest may join me.

I want this to fill that room. Staying up until 1AM
talking about nothing in particular but having it
still mean everything. The comfort I'm feeling and
the hope that eminates from your words. I want
this feeling like no one has ever gotten me the
way you do and that for once, someone understands
why I do the things I do. I want the cradling
happiness that returns and the knots that hold my
heart strings back together from the previous
battles I've had.

This floating feeling can't be for nothing. The words
you speak cannot be told for the mere want of
sex. There must be something behind them. And
that something makes me feel this isn't some silly
romance and that it'll last a couple more months.

This is it for me. This is my first real relationship.

My first love.

2008-05-29T19:37:00.001-07:00

There's something about dedication that always seems to fall from the consciousness of others. That is, the thought that just because there is dedication within you it won't always be enough. You can take everything you can. You can give everything you have. You can cry every night for them or smile. You can make them laugh whenever they're sad and let them call you in the early morning out of fear. Hell, you can put their feelings and life before yours and you'll be told, "Yeah, that's dedication. That's love."

The two seem to come hand in hand in some situations, do they not? No one is ever guaranteed that the person will love them back, that they will also return the dedication. No one ever said that all of that was enough because there's just some instances where no matter what you do, it's never enough. For some it's easy to let go of and for other's... it can take weeks, months, years. A lifetime even.

I'm unhappy with the condescending nature of people once this happens. "I told you so," is what you hear. Rarely do you hear the comforting words that it's okay to cry. Now it's, "Don't waste your tears on him, he isn't worth it." He was though, wasn't he? He was everything. How can everything be worthless?

Of course that falls under a philosophical question and Heideggar and Nietzsche and all the other philosophers can debate their points on being, on nothingness, on everything.

2008-05-28T05:08:00.000-07:00

Hold me
Hold me
Hold me back from him
Hold me away from you
I'm fragile
I'm delicate
I'm breakable
Blood on myself from falling apart
Down
Below
Cuts on your hand, you should have let go.
No more him, no more you
Breeching the known limit
Glass elevator
Mirrored ceiling
Cuts, blood, thinning, multiplying
Loss.

2008-04-24T12:44:00.000-07:00

If there's one thing I've noticed in these past months, it's that people really don't understand what some of the things they can do can really hurt people. Immobilize them, so to say. Every action has a reaction and it's sad that no one considers how another might feel; the consequences. I'm sure I am guilty of it, just as everyone is.

I'm tired of being told and/or hearing, "I don't deserve you". If I want to be with you, or be friends with you, if someone wants you around, then yes, you deserve me/them. You deserve it because they want it. And they deserve that. Can people not see how it does a 360? It's not about deserving someone. It's about how they make you feel when you're around them.

Really, I don't understand how someone could say that and know it'd break the other person's heart. How can you? I ask every person who has ever said that. How can you knowingly break someone's heart with those words? How can you hurt someone so much because you aren't okay with yourself. Because you are too insecure of yourself to possibly understand how someone can love you so much.

It completely boggles my mind how much people give up because they don't feel worthy. If you're that insecure, what are you doing getting into relationships with people? If you're that uncomfortable with being vulnerable, why are you taking when you aren't giving back? Why are you being so selfish?

How can you hurt someone so much? How?

2008-04-09T20:57:00.000-07:00

there's something wrong when the friend you had

begins to lose you from their own choices. and there's

binoculars tainted with sadness, that seem to prove

there's only one way that this road could have been

made. this perspective makes me pity you.

i'm not sure whether i'm angry or just desolate from the

cause of trying to aid you. from extending my budding

branches through the snow white storm; the cold. it's

a melancholy thought to know i'll have to let you do what

it is you want. but i do have the choice to not be there.

begin with the i'm sorry's and then conclude again with

the same tangible amount of evidence i had shown you

in the beginning. your mechanical mixture of apologies

and snide remarks is becoming caught in my throat and

i'm sorry if i can't swallow it.

don't try to tell me that i've changed for the worst, for

i still put people's feelings ahead of mine. emotions run

deep and for you, they seem to be nothing more then

a puddle on the sidewalk. and once the thought of

mutual love is created in your mind, you've lost every

attractive thing about you.

2008-02-23T19:12:00.000-08:00

The moon is a beacon to future cycles
as I hold the novel over my heart. My
bible has become my heart and I owe
nothing to anyone.

Consideration seems to fall short when
someone else's dreams are involved. Oh
there must be another way to make this
discrepancy crawl into the pits of Hell and
never show it's dirty face 'round here again.

Diet Ginger Ale cures unsettled stomachs
though it settles nothing in the mind nor
the vomit that is already creeping up your
throat. The burning, the convulsions, they
all seem to illusory for the time being.

We go into a state of shock when we're upset.

Our hearts begin to beat slower, our mind
becomes a turtle. Water is nowhere to be seen.
Much like the helper T cells, our brain
remembers pain before and thus, we become
lost in a trance to the pain aforementioned.

We become machines.

And so that is where consideration faulters.
White cells are devouring our empathy and
the robots we are mean nothing to anyone
but ourselves. We have become the rich man
taking advantage of the poverty in so many
third world countries.

There comes a time when the dream does
end and the imprints left are what shape us.
If medication must take heed in helping us
fraction the cost, then I say, Why not?

Who says no to a good thing? Who says, No
thanks, see ya later, I'd rather die unhappy?
The humble. And where are the humble?

So maybe this seems quite arrogant. Maybe
this seems antagonistic. Well so be it. My pain
is not to be remember. My dream world is
beginning to be constructed and there's no way
in the world I would let the beams fall away on
this project.

I want to get better.
I don't want to be a robot.
I am not a machine.