Before you even left

I think about calling strangers and inviting them to discuss reasons why they find the world
so fascinating enough for me to stay in it. Like maybe the way they feel about their favorite foods will keep me here. 

These past few months i've been someone else. I've made decisions in hopes of feeling complete and bettering my mind. But they've only enhanced the weaknesses. I told myself I wouldn't do this again. But when you've lost yourself who are you really talking to.  After months of blocking out my own mind to try to save myself…i've lost myself. I've become the stranger and am no longer equipped to fix it. 

….and it's the worst... when your head feels like it does and the people you love are in the next room laughing about something on the television. so much happiness and enthusiasm for life just one staircase down from something so dark and desperate. How can they be so sheltered to your thoughts of hanging. Your thoughts of falling out the window. Your thoughts of bleeding out where you sleep. How do they not feel the same thing you feel. I feel this when i'm alone. In my bed with the lights off and most of the time i've kept it to myself. Why discuss something that's been happening for years. What difference would it make anymore to myself or anyone else. How am I supposed to reach out when the few I have to reach out to have become numb to my cries? I'm a broken record. The boy who cried wolf and only bravery would make that all go away. The one thing i've always lacked. 


The separation inside has prepared us for things we already knew. They won't remember my smile and your smile. They won't remember my laugh and your laugh. They won't remember the good in me and the pain in me. They won't remember the good in you and the pain in you. After long, they won't remember me and you at all.  Before you and I ever thought about leaving….they've already forgotten.

The world has gone on. Long before we even left it. 

I Am the Dream

 I dreamt of zombies again last night. Which is unusual because aside from the three times this past week i've never dreamt of them in my entire existence. I don't believe in the irrational. At least not anymore. I used to be consumed by all these things that didn't make sense, things that weren't real, things that didn't or could never happen. It would trigger a fear in me which would push me inside, away from everything light. I feel afraid sometimes, but not like I used to. I think I just go through everyday not expecting a thing to be different. It's a little sadder to live that way but i'm safe for now right? Maybe all these zombies i've been dreaming of are just variations of the me now, the present me. Which makes it seems more like a nightmare. Whats happening to me? ...someone who, once upon a time, was haunted by every breath that everyone has ever shown has become this sheltered warrior..driven to be a hidden mirage or just a passerby. I can't remember being funny. I can't remember being sad. I can't remember feeling hurt. I can't remember wanting to be angry. But I need all these things. I can't be, I can't create, I can't do without them. So then what have I become, another phase? 

                                                                                  -a-

To those we meet

I saw a line of people moving the same.  I focused my eyes down to my own hands.

Photo Credit: Maya Deren and Marcel Duchamp, the Witch's cradle, 1943

I saw ropes, strings of thick rotting wool grinding against my fingers manipulating those i've met to move according to my plan. For a long time I thought something was wrong, as if there was a chip missing inside, the most useful piece of the human mind. But as I took a second glance through the wounds and past the rope it dawned on me that this was not my original plan. For the strings continued to dance behind me and wrap themselves around the wrists of another and this was their original plan. To construct a pattern of movement by simply placing fabric in the hands of another. 

I dreamt of a bus.

We sat there waiting for it to stop. 


When it did we had a choice to make. 


If we left we would end up living the lives we were meant to, being with the people we were meant to be with, learning what was meant to be learned, seeing what was meant to be seen. It would have been as if our lives had never gone of track. 


and if we stayed....


everything would remain just AS IS. 




All the fighting, all the anger, all the sadness, and the little bit that felt like love would be constant...


forever. 






I can't say that I didn't want to leave the bus 

but I know I couldn't move an inch. 

What is this nonsense?

It's a lie to say that I know things. Moments in my life that I believed to be fate....
have proven to be nothing more than insignificant mishaps that brought me down another notch. 


I lose my mind a little more each time I come to this place. 


I hear twenty different stories at the same time. Laughing, giggling....I don't know how to separate them
so I try to focus on my own head but then I realize....that's where it's all coming from. 


Most of the time i'm numb and completely out of focus with myself. 


I see black while the rest of the world sees white.  I need to get out from here. 


Some people outline a colored picture by pressing the crayon down just a little harder. 


I feel like I can compare myself to that work. The inside of me has to be a lot lighter. 


But there is this thin line all around my body blocking any of that light from getting out. 


So am I just an outline? 

And once we had the present ----> 01/04/2010

I may be a repeat offender. 

To hear with the ears instead of reading with the eyes click here.




Right now I sit inside a three sided box. 
A cubicle meant to fit only human telephone wires. 
I am taught to act robotic and then lectured for my lack of inflection. 
I find myself staring blankly at the screen. 
The cursor is moving in perfect sync with the ticking of the clock. 
The blinking of the cursor reminds me of an archer pulling back his arrow, 
releasing it, and shooting it straight. through. my. heart. 
I find myself changing everyday. 
I find myself increasingly annoyed by people, like nails on a 
never ending chalkboard. 
I would say that I woke up on the wrong side of the bed
but that would require sleeping. 

Surprise

It may be a big surprise but I still keep a lot of things to myself. 


I may come across as hardcore and rough sometimes but it's really not what is 


underneath 


I have to protect a lot of what I think and what I feel


even though I've become more vocal and expressive when it comes to my depression


I still fear that there is a lot that can't be understood....or a lot that would be misunderstood. 


I'm easy to break but also easy to put back together but sharing every secret i've ever had 


would certainly leave me broken for good 


there are just some things that have to be left to the imagination 


i'm talking about mine, not yours. 

I don't want to fight with anyone or disrespect anyone, but i'm still at a battle. 


Sometimes I feel like some people trigger a bigger war, and although I love them, I have to


set them aside for a while. It's nothing to take personally, it's just another matter of survival..


...for me and 


although they may never see it, it's for them to. 


But try to take me in anyways. i'm very unpredictable and I may find a home within you 


if given the 


chance. 




XX