I can see you.
Thursday, June 19, 2014
Monday, June 16, 2014
wrote this on may 3rd, forgot to post it. not the worst
Here are the secrets of life
which is embarrassingly enough a reference to a song i loved
what feels like a millions years ago
and played over and over and over again
the secrets of my life feel pretty dumb
which is embarrassingly enough a reference to a song i loved
what feels like a millions years ago
and played over and over and over again
the secrets of my life feel pretty dumb
but go outside once in a while
because fresh air is something you forget you need when you cloister yourself
occasionally get fresh air.
because fresh air is something you forget you need when you cloister yourself
occasionally get fresh air.
it’s okay to medicate if you are hurting.
it’s okay to call a doctor or ask for help
don’t be afraid to keep trying to look for a good therapist
(I’m still working on that one)
it’s okay to call a doctor or ask for help
don’t be afraid to keep trying to look for a good therapist
(I’m still working on that one)
Be as kind as you can to the people around you
but it’s more important to have your boundaries and humanity respected
that to be kind
your safety matters over their comfort
if I could tell myself that for the last 15 years
maybe my life would be different, better.
but it’s more important to have your boundaries and humanity respected
that to be kind
your safety matters over their comfort
if I could tell myself that for the last 15 years
maybe my life would be different, better.
support your friends
stay in contact
keep a sense of humor
and it is okay to not like things
to call people out on things
to ask the dumb questions
what does that mean?
why do you think that is funny?
stay in contact
keep a sense of humor
and it is okay to not like things
to call people out on things
to ask the dumb questions
what does that mean?
why do you think that is funny?
Ask questions
keep asking questions
to your doctors and the pharmacists
and the churches and your parents
and anyone who will speak to you
like you are important and you are so important
keep asking questions
to your doctors and the pharmacists
and the churches and your parents
and anyone who will speak to you
like you are important and you are so important
snuggle with cats and dogs
drink lots of water
don’t ever let anyone tell you what you can and can’t do
with your own body.
drink lots of water
don’t ever let anyone tell you what you can and can’t do
with your own body.
we’ll be right back after these messages.
Friday, June 13, 2014
I hate this but I also kinda like it? I need to write more and work on it...
When I went to Vegas, it was the lights and the flying that got me. I'd never been on a plane before and I was terrified out of my mind even though I'd been assured by friends and family that even turbulence was highly unlikely. Clearly these people still don't know me, as it took me a day to get over the one roller coaster I've ever been on, and it was a small one.
Once I was in the air, I calmed down after about 30 minutes. It was the slow rumble along the runway and the feeling that we were preparing to be launched that slowly turned me into a barnacle on my best friends arm, so my thoughts of "Oh god, oh god, we're all gonna die!" were interspersed with "please please don't let me crush her tiny wrists." Going up was terrifying. I'm not a fan of the feeling. When we were drawn up on that singular roller coaster I rode, I could feel every warning my mother has ever said to me watching me, looming over me. Multiply that by ten on the airplane. Mostly I just felt bad for the people around me. It's hard watching someone trying to repress some high levels of fear and just sit quietly. Personally, I was trying not to burst into some kind of wild laughter. I doubt there will ever be a moment where planes and I are friends. I don't think my suspension of reality is good enough to deal with giant metal things flying through the air.
Anyway, the moral of this pointless, rambling story is that there is no moral. I was scared of the plane, the trip, what I was going to do, if I was going to run out of money and I still had an awesome time. I would still go back and this time, I would pack lots of shorts and drink more and never ever see the goddamn blue man group ever again. Fuck those guys. Seriously. Also, sandstorms are scary and so is running through shin deep dark water in the streets, but you can always tell who is from Houston, because we are the ones running through it like we don't give a fuck. It's terrifying. Everyone on the plane back talked about how it was like our pointless asshole weather followed us to Vegas. I sat next to a guy who told me everything about the wedding he dropped everything and went to because his friends were eloping. Everyone on the plane was in a good mood.
Mostly it reminded me that I can spend days on end with my friends and not get tired of them. That they love me even when they are looking at me like I'm a little odd and when I'm terrified of cars.
But seriously though, they all walk REALLY fast. We need to work on that.
Once I was in the air, I calmed down after about 30 minutes. It was the slow rumble along the runway and the feeling that we were preparing to be launched that slowly turned me into a barnacle on my best friends arm, so my thoughts of "Oh god, oh god, we're all gonna die!" were interspersed with "please please don't let me crush her tiny wrists." Going up was terrifying. I'm not a fan of the feeling. When we were drawn up on that singular roller coaster I rode, I could feel every warning my mother has ever said to me watching me, looming over me. Multiply that by ten on the airplane. Mostly I just felt bad for the people around me. It's hard watching someone trying to repress some high levels of fear and just sit quietly. Personally, I was trying not to burst into some kind of wild laughter. I doubt there will ever be a moment where planes and I are friends. I don't think my suspension of reality is good enough to deal with giant metal things flying through the air.
Anyway, the moral of this pointless, rambling story is that there is no moral. I was scared of the plane, the trip, what I was going to do, if I was going to run out of money and I still had an awesome time. I would still go back and this time, I would pack lots of shorts and drink more and never ever see the goddamn blue man group ever again. Fuck those guys. Seriously. Also, sandstorms are scary and so is running through shin deep dark water in the streets, but you can always tell who is from Houston, because we are the ones running through it like we don't give a fuck. It's terrifying. Everyone on the plane back talked about how it was like our pointless asshole weather followed us to Vegas. I sat next to a guy who told me everything about the wedding he dropped everything and went to because his friends were eloping. Everyone on the plane was in a good mood.
Mostly it reminded me that I can spend days on end with my friends and not get tired of them. That they love me even when they are looking at me like I'm a little odd and when I'm terrified of cars.
But seriously though, they all walk REALLY fast. We need to work on that.
Monday, June 9, 2014
This world keeps spinning faster to new disaster
"I run too fast
or too slow it seems."
Lady Antebellum
The truth is
that my mouth opens perpetually
while the rest of me is always shut off
I can be kind and happy with my mouth
or sharp
I can make someone feel good
but the instant people want hands on me
the skin is on fire and I don't (can't) like it
so don't touch me, I don't want to burn
I was looking through boxes of books
and feeling such pain
yearbooks are a special source of agony
friends I had, friends I lost, friends who ran screaming
and those of us who just faded...
Hopefully the words I wrote will last to other people
I don't know if everyone has this super-sad-mentality
this far away on this side of the line
I'm sure plenty of people do
I absolutely do not believe that I am the only person
capable of ridiculous melancholy
but regardless of introducing melancholy to the whole world
or if it is just me
looking through my books hurts me
giving away my books hurts
goodbye things
you kept me sane throughout some of the rougher years
and now that rough years are indeed ahead and behind
goodbye
apparently I don't need you anymore
replaced by virtual words in space.
thankfully stories remain the same
even if they are different
and I have the comics still
with the angels and robots and devils
and people who fell in love and died
My cat likes to sit closest to skin. She finds the part
where my shirt doesn't quite meet my pants and she puts her back
on it and faces the outside world. She'll lay here for hours.
She knows I love how she exists in close proximity to me.
Sometimes when I sleep, she comes and sleeps on my pillow
in my hair, like she's not a fellow bed crowder, but an extension of me
that on occasion digs her claws into my head.
And lick my hair incessantly
and occasionally chomps at my face.
We have a strange love.
I find myself limp, like my bones are gone
when I am with him.
I've pressed my body against his for years
and he his against mine
and I haven't seen him in forever
and we just exchange pleasantries
and it's pleasant, which is the highest of praises
not something I have to work at but someone to simply whisper
the generalities of how life is.
I wonder at how we are so very very different
in our paths, but how we can meander together anyways.
I feel less tight around him
like the millions of ways I am lesser and terrible
like the thousand ways I can't cope and won't let myself be free
aren't there.
I worry sometimes that I tell him the truth too much
that he can't handle it or he won't love me
But he's never been afraid of the realities
and him loving me
it doesn't matter though
I'm always a thousand miles away
have always been.
or too slow it seems."
Lady Antebellum
The truth is
that my mouth opens perpetually
while the rest of me is always shut off
I can be kind and happy with my mouth
or sharp
I can make someone feel good
but the instant people want hands on me
the skin is on fire and I don't (can't) like it
so don't touch me, I don't want to burn
I was looking through boxes of books
and feeling such pain
yearbooks are a special source of agony
friends I had, friends I lost, friends who ran screaming
and those of us who just faded...
Hopefully the words I wrote will last to other people
I don't know if everyone has this super-sad-mentality
this far away on this side of the line
I'm sure plenty of people do
I absolutely do not believe that I am the only person
capable of ridiculous melancholy
but regardless of introducing melancholy to the whole world
or if it is just me
looking through my books hurts me
giving away my books hurts
goodbye things
you kept me sane throughout some of the rougher years
and now that rough years are indeed ahead and behind
goodbye
apparently I don't need you anymore
replaced by virtual words in space.
thankfully stories remain the same
even if they are different
and I have the comics still
with the angels and robots and devils
and people who fell in love and died
My cat likes to sit closest to skin. She finds the part
where my shirt doesn't quite meet my pants and she puts her back
on it and faces the outside world. She'll lay here for hours.
She knows I love how she exists in close proximity to me.
Sometimes when I sleep, she comes and sleeps on my pillow
in my hair, like she's not a fellow bed crowder, but an extension of me
that on occasion digs her claws into my head.
And lick my hair incessantly
and occasionally chomps at my face.
We have a strange love.
I find myself limp, like my bones are gone
when I am with him.
I've pressed my body against his for years
and he his against mine
and I haven't seen him in forever
and we just exchange pleasantries
and it's pleasant, which is the highest of praises
not something I have to work at but someone to simply whisper
the generalities of how life is.
I wonder at how we are so very very different
in our paths, but how we can meander together anyways.
I feel less tight around him
like the millions of ways I am lesser and terrible
like the thousand ways I can't cope and won't let myself be free
aren't there.
I worry sometimes that I tell him the truth too much
that he can't handle it or he won't love me
But he's never been afraid of the realities
and him loving me
it doesn't matter though
I'm always a thousand miles away
have always been.
Saturday, May 31, 2014
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
Out in the West Texas town of El Paso
Sometimes you meet people you know will be precious to you forever.
This is both a rarity and an everyday occurrence for me.
(this is why I shouldn't write melancholy drunk-or maybe ever)
The reality of my world is that everyone lives in perpetuity in my head. I have a million stories in my head about everyone at any given moment. I get lonely a lot but I am always full of the words. The words keep me safe but they are so loud sometimes and they don't fill up the big ugly empty spaces.
I don't know if the big ugly empty parts are a part of everyone. I hope they aren't.
Seriously though. Fuck the rest of what I wrote. Drunk melancholy writing is absolutely terrible.
This is both a rarity and an everyday occurrence for me.
(this is why I shouldn't write melancholy drunk-or maybe ever)
The reality of my world is that everyone lives in perpetuity in my head. I have a million stories in my head about everyone at any given moment. I get lonely a lot but I am always full of the words. The words keep me safe but they are so loud sometimes and they don't fill up the big ugly empty spaces.
I don't know if the big ugly empty parts are a part of everyone. I hope they aren't.
Seriously though. Fuck the rest of what I wrote. Drunk melancholy writing is absolutely terrible.
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
Mirror
"Run away,
I'll just run away like a child from all of them to you...
Daylight fading, I curse the breaking
the day is gone, the day is gone.
Love is bleeding, I curse my breathing
the day is gone, the day is gone."
Sons of Anarchy
I was reading things on tumblr
and someone said something about how the only difference
between now and before I found tumblr
is that I used to stay up all night reading books
and now I stay up all night reading tumblr.
And that is certainly true. I enjoy all the different
views and pictures and funny things and music
all at my fingertips
I can switch between Doctor Who
and True Blood and Teen Wolf
and Grey's Anatomy with a few clicks
I can do my job and paint my nails
and occasionally the cat comes and sits on my boobs
while I'm answering the phone and I can block out the constant
sound of my own thoughts by having them drowned out
cats meowing and starwars going and children going MOMMY
and maybe I'll forget that my inner voice is going
firedyou'llbefired
beafraidalwaysafraid
hehatesyoushehatesyou
don'twritedon'tfeeldon'tdo
the inner voice screams sleep
and cut off your hair
and don't talk to anyone
it's always saying how I am so far from beautiful
so far from perfect
I believe it
the mirror never(always) lies
I'll just run away like a child from all of them to you...
Daylight fading, I curse the breaking
the day is gone, the day is gone.
Love is bleeding, I curse my breathing
the day is gone, the day is gone."
Sons of Anarchy
I was reading things on tumblr
and someone said something about how the only difference
between now and before I found tumblr
is that I used to stay up all night reading books
and now I stay up all night reading tumblr.
And that is certainly true. I enjoy all the different
views and pictures and funny things and music
all at my fingertips
I can switch between Doctor Who
and True Blood and Teen Wolf
and Grey's Anatomy with a few clicks
I can do my job and paint my nails
and occasionally the cat comes and sits on my boobs
while I'm answering the phone and I can block out the constant
sound of my own thoughts by having them drowned out
cats meowing and starwars going and children going MOMMY
and maybe I'll forget that my inner voice is going
firedyou'llbefired
beafraidalwaysafraid
hehatesyoushehatesyou
don'twritedon'tfeeldon'tdo
the inner voice screams sleep
and cut off your hair
and don't talk to anyone
it's always saying how I am so far from beautiful
so far from perfect
I believe it
the mirror never(always) lies
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