SO. Apparently my tumblr has been spamming people. I apologize, and it is rectified.
Staring down the storm I absent-mindedly reach for an umbrella
And find nothing; not even my hand in its wake.
Such rolling devastation preceded, almost as if warning
By a smile.
It’s as if suddenly memory has returned to me
No explanation at all, but there it is.
Ever punctual when it comes to bad timing;
And yet fashionably late.
To brave those Catskills in search of the perfect blue sky
That is the question,
The answer seems obvious.
But logic tends to fail in the front of desire
And so the desire burns like a melancholy torch that leads me ever forward
To brave the climb
And to stand triumphantly tall on the cliffs
Every step closer dropping pebbles from my pockets
Sand from the backpack,
And sweat tears from the eyes.
Standing weightless on the horizon of possibility
Floating in an astral state of ecstatic connection
Before throwing myself joyous and smiling down to the sharp rocks below.
Succeeded only by the most gentle and authentic of smiles.
And thus an introduction is born.
He steps out of the car. He cracks a joke and a smile.
He closes the door to his house. He cracks.
I don’t know sometimes why its so hard for me to ask for help. Things are not ok. Everything is the opposite, and holding this in is eating me alive. But I can’t open it. It’s too big to open now. I can’t let it out. Instead I just sit here and shake and want to curl into the fetal position and cry until I dehydrate myself like a corpse. Cliche, but honestly I feel like too many things in my life are right now. I feel like I am slowly losing that ability to tap into how I actually feel because I am too busy pushing it down. Creating a lie that things are ok, and that I am ok on top of them.
"Pages falling. Words I can’t say.
Pages falling, all blow away.”
Its like my memory banks right now, and I have no clue how I got here.
5 years ago was so different.
I still had my dog; who was my brother and undeniably the best friend I have ever had.
I was naive and hopeful
5 years was the first time I was ever truly in love.
my grandma drove a bus.
I had a group of friends that I thought would last my entire life, that made every day amazing and bright.
My Grandad still seemed immortal to me.
My Mom lived in the same town as me.
I had a good paying job.
All the time people define that certain songs seem to match their life. Mine seems to me to be the song;
Sunny Day Real Estate- “In Circles”
I say that because I feel like my future is a locked circular path that I cannot escape no matter how hard I try. Lets not say that I regret the things that have happened between 5 years ago and now; I don’t. I just don’t know how to face some of those things. I just feel exhausted. And I hate myself. I loathe this seeming inability to feel sometimes, whereas other times I feel too much.
I feel like isolating myself completely. For the sake of Forbidden Fruit.
"All I seemed to do was hurt those around me, and therefore myself….When all you know how to do efficiently is hurt, then why not embrace it? It’s worked for me…"
So back to the first scenario. Why doesn’t it play out differently? Why the deception? I don’t enjoy it either, but frankly I don’t feel like there are very many people I can talk to. There are many people who would gladly fill that role, but with a trend of disappearing or non-existent best friends how can I? I once had a best friend; someone I would have died for without hesitation tell me that they had started ignoring my calls because they couldn’t deal with someone who; “Has too many bad days.”
It is a circular path, and every time I pass the start, something else is missing. Sometimes its people, and sometimes maybe it is a part of me. But I want out. I don’t want to inevitably play the villain. I don’t want to hurt anybody, and I don’t want to keep all of my hurt inside of my own body. I just hope I can do this before there is nobody left.
I can’t even write lately. Even this poorly constructed nonsensical ramble is the best fucking thing that I can pop out, and that is only out of some distorted sense of necessity. I’m so mad. I can’t seem to think coherently, I can’t write. I have no seeming catharsis. Just waiting, and anxiety, and shakes and stomach sickness and a never-ending shortness of breath. It’s a box of my own creation , and apparently I am an expert carpenter. So I am sorry. To everyone. For not being honest, for cracking a joke in place of asking for a hug; for causing distress and pain, and I am especially sorry that I haven’t been able to be there as much as I should be for my family because it kills me to be around and see how rough it is for some of them right now.
patternsofpeople asked: How is rehearsal going?????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It is going very very well! I am excited to open :)
Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever get it back. Yet I can’t even define “it”. It’s just a difference; a momentary distortion in the fabric of reality. Something is different. I feel like I’ve somehow managed to end up on the other side of a wall that I never knew existed, but I resent it. I take it utterly personal, and as such, I’m bitter as hell without even a direct target to focus it at.
My every tangible thought and machination in this world is all done with some greater belief in this idea of “love” that I am in debate of all the time. But how much in debate of it can I be when I know that in the past I found it? But now I wonder if I’ve lost whatever tool or sense I had that led me to it. As if I am curtained off from the possibility. I don’t doubt that it exists, and I am very faithful that all of the people around me are slowly finding it, and are deserving it. But I can’t be so optimistic for myself. I used to think that I was the problem. I’m not so sure anymore.
Sometimes people, and sometimes even myself call me “empathic” or say I am “an empath.” I don’t know how far to believe this, but I can’t ignore that it would make sense. I feel for other people, sometimes so much so that I can tell them things that there is no way I could have known. And as such, a lot of people come to me with their problems, because I am very good at understanding and talking through things. And also I get a rare and unique experience that comes with that. I call them “Flashes”.
A flash can come at any point while knowing someone, although the stronger they are, the sooner upon meeting someone they occur. A “Flash” is essentially like getting a mental preview of what it would be like to be with someone in a romantic sense. Most people imagine that, but mine even comes with extra details sometimes. It’s like a short movie that whips by very quickly in the mind, and you FEEL it. The unique way that someone’s body fits with yours while laying together, How much force they apply when giving a hand-hold. Sometimes even more specific; The way someone kisses, the small parts of their body you memorize and fall in love with, like a collar bone you love to kiss, or a forearm you gently brush when cuddling.
It’s taken a lot of force and adjusting to get used to this idea of “flashes”. Of getting used to getting these visions in my mind and then letting them go. Letting any emotional connection to them die just as fast as a daydream, and I am good at it. But there have been a few times in my life when that was impossible. A few times, upon meeting someone I have encountered something so strong that I could not possibly ignore what it meant; what they could mean to me. And it is those times, coincidentally or not, that have lead to love. Something so powerful and magnificent, that in light of such a flash, your entire world melts away. And a simple introduction handshake changes your perspective on what you want and what you are doing with your life. Now, some would say to feel such a way so quickly is creepy, some would say it’s hopelessly romantic, but either way I don’t care. I know what I have felt, and I know how invaluably important to me it was at the time and how important it became.
The last time I had it, it was so beautiful. It was the brightest light in all of my life, and I was forever changed from it. But when it went away, it left such a deep and violent ravine in me that I am not sure I’ll ever get it back. I have tried so hard to move on, to find peace, and moreover to keep searching for such a feeling but I have had no luck so far. I seem to have myself in a rut where I am not allowed to be happy. I feel like inevitably I sabotage myself because in the back of my mind I am waiting for the next person to strike me with such a magnitude that my world melts away, and I breathe out and the world has a golden sheen to it again.
But it doesn’t come. So, I content myself on casual affections, which is safer and less likely for me to hurt anyone. And while I will say that this is enjoyable and fun in a lot of regards, I am starting to notice that it is not contenting me. It makes me feel a little guilty, which is just my own psyche attempting to torture myself, but it is not the type of fulfillment I am looking for. It’s another infamous catch 22 in my world. I don’t want anything serious because I haven’t found what I’m looking for, and I don’t want to hurt anybody, but at the same time, that deepness, that romance is exactly what I crave. It’s the entire hope that keeps me going, and is such a focus in every aspect of my life. Now, I don’t live entirely in my lovelife, that to me would be too obsessive and a waste. But, I don’t know what to do.
So, I guess I’m waiting? I’m waiting on someone to be planted so strongly in the middle of my path that I can’t go around them. I want someone to talk to, to go on walks with, to laugh with. I want someone that I can debate all conceptions of this world with. Someone who would review my work and see it for what it is, and not be afraid to discuss it with me, or tell me that they thought I was wrong. Someone who takes the time to show me what I mean to them.
Because all I currently have are cruel memories and shattered hopes. And I don’t know how to get them back.
And I know I can’t rush things, but I am getting really discouraged lately. I don’t feel like I show up on the radar screen. I feel like I’m invisible. And that the people who tend to see me, see me as a support system instead of a person. People see me, and they see the black clothes, and they assume that I’m strange. I get avoided, even though I have never been anything less than cordial and nice. I don’t know what I am doing wrong, but it makes me want to completely change my body. Become what is more traditionally considered attractive, even though I don’t really believe there is anything wrong with this body.
I hear the stories from friends. The randomness, the almost seeming destiny of their romantic ventures, and conversations I would love to have. I feel like it is killing me to be without it, and is discouraging me that I continue to wait in hopes that it will magically appear. I don’t have a solution, just a little bleeding I needed to do so that I can try to let it go. I appeal to everyone out there to appreciate the wonderful romantic ventures in your life, and don’t ever take them for granted. Especially romance. Never undercut, half-ass, or cheapen it. Appreciate it like vital life-water, because there are those of us out there withering without it while we pray that it shows up eventually.
"God make me an iron maiden
So that I can close on those who embrace me
So they will never let go.”- E.W.
patternsofpeople asked: How do you sleep in so late? And if I came to Bloomington in the near future would you participate in a fiesta night where I'd make and buy nachos and tacos and americanized mexican food for all my b town peeps or would you rather me make something you could freeze and keep for longer?
Hmm…dunno, just really appreciate my sleep? (coupled with sometimes being up as late as 8 or 9am) , and I would rather participate in said night, but I would need to know when it was.