i also have livejournal now, because i'm that lame

here it is.

i'm not sure how much more ill be posting here or there... but if you're interested, mostly ive been posting publicly on lj. if you want to join and be extra pathetic like me, ill be your friend :)

peace,
a.rose

wandering

im still wandering. just like anyone else, i suppose. but sometimes i look at people who look like they have it all together with envy. i dont think i even look like i have it all together. but then, maybe i do. maybe the same people i jealously look upon are looking at me with the same feelings. i hope not. i am just as lost as anyone, it would do no good to follow me.

i dont understand why some things make me so angry. i shouldnt let stuff get to me. i know it doesnt matter. i know that at the end of the day god will still be there waiting for me to listen. just waiting. but i still ignore and go another direction. i still get frustrated at stupid situations and awkward actions. i hate that i dont know what to say. i always think that maybe if i did know exactly what i need to say then it will make life go so much smoother. if i had a script like life is some sort of theatre production. it kind of is.

but i dont want to act. i dont want anyone to look at me. i want to just disappear and leave life to people who dont act so stupid. i just dont like waiting for things to happen. im very impatient. i like to know whats going on. but even if i did i feel like there would still be something that bothered me. some extra desire for control. i shouldnt have that. i should just stop.

static

sometimes thinking hurts. or makes you feel like nothing. or feel nothing. if there's too much to think about and it all gets bunched together that you feel a little insane for trying to interperet it all... then its just like static. a bunch of fragments whizzing around, going nowhere, telling you nothing, only that they exist. i miss organized thinking. i dont like not knowing the answers. i dont like being in the dark. except... everything is dark. i just dont pay attention to it. i can only see the material things, not what really matters. i dont know about all that. why should i feel trapped in a box if something in particular is hidden from me. i should be used to it by now.

strange dreams

what's going on inside of me....
so i've been having the weirdest dreams about any variety of topics. lately its been smoking. why would i smoke? and when i dream about it its the most natural thing, like ive been doing it all along, and last night there were rows of green cars... ive had multiple dreams about family members dying. isabelle, dad... i dont know, its pretty crazy. and not only the fact that they're dead, but that everybody else acted so strangely, and that i seemed to be the only one who grasped the gravity of the situation.

what do dreams tell you about yourself? are they windows into a realm of your being that you don't have access to? they are imagined experiences and surreal fantasies that are part of you some how... they tell you who you are, but in a different language you dont understand. they tell you the meaning of your life in garbled words and images that make no sense to you. so to say that your purpose can be found inside you is truth. what you've been searching for is at the source, right there, within your reach but you dont have the means to retrieve it. its too confusing to understand. so really, dreams are about reality, though they seem so far from it sometimes. they twist reality into something you wouldnt dare to think of. this reality is one created by you, by closing your eyes and painting in the darkness, and when you open them you're frightened by the results. reality and fantasy alike are confusing. trying to decipher them is our purpose. its why we keep going.

i dont know myself. but yet i do. i know myself enough to dream things that will frighten and confuse me. but its like i dont have access to that part of who i am. the part that knows myself. in all this confusion and darkness that im living in, i'm ever evolving. my dreams tell me who i am and who i will become. i should just listen to them.

the end.

today... to-dah
too much of my life is on the internets i think.
so ill probly not be writing so much anymore.

feeling frustrated

look behind my eyes

beyond my decieving smile

you listen to my lies?

it will be the end of you

tear away all the pretenses

ive had too many second chances

i dont know where im going

i cant even cry

everythings the same

the way i look at life

it seems cant change

i dont know where im going

i cant remember where ive been

my life is a continuous cycle

caught in a never ending topspin

fragments of what?

fragments of life overwhelm my brain.
sunlight
perfume
time passing quickly
or not at all
church
and death
blood
and paper cuts
beautiful children
sometimes i wish i were them
shaky hands
a pencil slowly tracing
the body of a vixen
or capturing a scene
from the film in my head
neon lights
naked skin
tears
eyes
nose rings
and computers
smashed on the floor.
sometimes i can't take life anymore.
i want to fall away
from it all
pistols
blankets
alarm clocks
funerals
post-it notes
telling everyone to
shut the fuck up.

Angry Depressive Poetry

I'm sick of being the one to blame
Always trying to avoid saying your name
I'm sick of losing things
I'm sick of lying
Sick of stupid emotions SHUT UP inside
I'm tired of trying to read your mind
I'm sick of feeling nothing
I'm sick of ruining everything
I can't stand having no tears to cry
I'm sick of submitting
And never asking why
I'm through with listening to you whine
I've had enough of life.

Pining away in a darkened room
I sit and stare at the wall
Smoking cigarettes in the late night stupor.
I sigh and avoid your call
Wiping tears in a torrent defeat
I can feel myself fall
Painting the room in a glorious crimson
I can no longer give you my all.