kick and gouge your calves
pull your hair and slap you so hard
rewind and do it again
except harder
destroy you
rewind
do it again
rewind
and continue because it never happened
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
poison
You see a big, heaving creature slogging along and leaving a trail of spitty slime. Like a slug. It looks hungry and anxious and smacks its lips painfully. Its fleshy underbelly is scraped by the small snags on its native stem, each small nub ripping through its skin. Bits of soft flesh cling to the branch. They remain stuck there until becoming dry and brittle, small rinds cracking and falling away like an autumn leaf.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
never mind
Please just break me. My strongest efforts are nothing but a fruit fly with a buzz too quiet to hear; I can't satisfy. I am pigheaded? lazy?
My brain is out of balance. That is reality. I have good days, (see two entries down) and then I realize that this doesn't matter and I cannot take control of my brain with no help. I can't. I wake up every day to a worthless existence, to everything that contradicts what I stand for or what I want. I cannot continue like this, I can't rely on myself for anything. This ground is too unstable; your house is made of brick, you can tell me to pull it together. You can inform me of how to fix this and you can tell me that I'm doing it wrong. But you don't lean on my fragile walls. My house is made of straw, and it will fall. It always falls.
just stuff me like a fucking animal.
My brain is out of balance. That is reality. I have good days, (see two entries down) and then I realize that this doesn't matter and I cannot take control of my brain with no help. I can't. I wake up every day to a worthless existence, to everything that contradicts what I stand for or what I want. I cannot continue like this, I can't rely on myself for anything. This ground is too unstable; your house is made of brick, you can tell me to pull it together. You can inform me of how to fix this and you can tell me that I'm doing it wrong. But you don't lean on my fragile walls. My house is made of straw, and it will fall. It always falls.
just stuff me like a fucking animal.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
bah!
After reading my recent blog entries, the only thing that comes to mind is a sopping wet dishrag dropped on a counter top, slapping the surface with a slick, gushy sigh of defeat.
That is not a good thing.
I can do this. I need to keep an iron grip on my sanity and take control of myself. For too long I've let circumstances and emotions rule me. I need to step back inside my shell and rule myself instead of handing over my power to sneaky forces that will take advantage of my trust, whether it be people or compulsive feelings or resentful memories. The mind is such a powerful thing and to let go of it is a sign of pure stupidity on my part.
I can't be sure that this will be the end of these sobby blogs that, to me at least, are rather painful to read. No one probably reads this anyways. However, from now on I am going to try my best to herd my flakes of determination together and use my mind to its full potential.
Wish me luck, and please don't tempt me with cookies.
That is not a good thing.
I can do this. I need to keep an iron grip on my sanity and take control of myself. For too long I've let circumstances and emotions rule me. I need to step back inside my shell and rule myself instead of handing over my power to sneaky forces that will take advantage of my trust, whether it be people or compulsive feelings or resentful memories. The mind is such a powerful thing and to let go of it is a sign of pure stupidity on my part.
I can't be sure that this will be the end of these sobby blogs that, to me at least, are rather painful to read. No one probably reads this anyways. However, from now on I am going to try my best to herd my flakes of determination together and use my mind to its full potential.
Wish me luck, and please don't tempt me with cookies.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
frustration
It's frustrating to admit that I am obsessed with my weight. I am weak. I compulsively eat at the drop of a hat, I stuff my feelings in my mouth, and I worry and analyze myself to the point of depression and/or tears. It shouldn't matter as much as it does. This is a repulsive cycle that repeats itself; I try different methods and set goals for myself that are always broken one way or another. Self control has never been one of my strong points, and my tummy tells me so every morning. I have tried so hard to tell myself that I am not as beastly as I believe myself to be, but it's nearly impossible.
Why does my self-hatred have to get in the way of everything? Two nights ago, Zack and I were tripping on acid together and I had gotten french fries, only to be horrified at the thought of eating them and I threw them on the side of the road. Zack asked "Where are these weight issues coming from?"
I wish I knew. I think it stems from my general self-loathing, and because I am such an extremely visual person, my appearance is very important to me. I have goals and images in my mind of how I would like to be, and I am so far from them it makes me feel like trying would be a useless attempt. I am disgusted that my image means as much as it does.
It isn't fair.
I am so young, I should be focusing on other things like art, spirituality, meditating, taking a wack at yoga once more, respecting everyone instead of being as intolerable as I've become, making new friends, and not smoking so much pot. The "munchies" are very possibly half of this continuing eating problem.
This is my prime of life and I want to take advantage of it. Why is it so hard for me?
I guess this is what comes with being such a passionate person. I feel immense intensity from each side of the spectrum; it is a gift and a curse.
I miss when things within myself weren't so complicated.
Why does my self-hatred have to get in the way of everything? Two nights ago, Zack and I were tripping on acid together and I had gotten french fries, only to be horrified at the thought of eating them and I threw them on the side of the road. Zack asked "Where are these weight issues coming from?"
I wish I knew. I think it stems from my general self-loathing, and because I am such an extremely visual person, my appearance is very important to me. I have goals and images in my mind of how I would like to be, and I am so far from them it makes me feel like trying would be a useless attempt. I am disgusted that my image means as much as it does.
It isn't fair.
I am so young, I should be focusing on other things like art, spirituality, meditating, taking a wack at yoga once more, respecting everyone instead of being as intolerable as I've become, making new friends, and not smoking so much pot. The "munchies" are very possibly half of this continuing eating problem.
This is my prime of life and I want to take advantage of it. Why is it so hard for me?
I guess this is what comes with being such a passionate person. I feel immense intensity from each side of the spectrum; it is a gift and a curse.
I miss when things within myself weren't so complicated.
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