I just read through some of my old blogs. I can't really believe them to honest. I'm in such a different head space now. I barely know how to write any more. I have to say that writing now gives me a whole new sensation...It feels slightly self-involved and awkward. I'll just try to push past that though, because I think I'll want to look back on things one day and be glad to see my inner thoughts written down. Hm. I suppose the wierdest part is that I feel like whoever was living in my head before is no longer there. She was burried. Now, I don't feel much of anything, or have much thinking to do...or much to say about what I am thinking. It's a satisfying feeling really; like a puddle instead of a stream. A storm has past and has left me still. I wonder if this is what I am about.
I like to be on my own. I'm not as mentally busy as I once was. It's nice to have some clarity, even though it lacks any kind of direction. My writing lacks direction.
I want to be on equal grounds. I want to be excited. I want to be inspired. I want to share things. I don't want words of wisdom right now. I want to feel passion. I want to feel heat.

It's been a while since I've written anything down... I've been so busy I guess. Even now I feel like there is nothing to write. I feel pressure to put something down...get some of this out. Tame the monster as they call it. I don't want to show weakness. I don't want to show any of this...not that there's anything to show really. "You have a lot of things to deal with...a lot of hurt", they say. So does everyone.

Lift, Lift, Lift

She said that when you go, you come back as butterflies. Not just one, but hundreds. You become a hundred fragments of white with wings. And apparently you were there that day floating above her. You hovered over your sorrow place where she stood waiting and open. You hover bringing peace and freedom to the overwhelmed. You show us how delicate we are and we feel quiet. And there is a feeling of a soft push forward on the back of our minds. A soft push like the wind blowing a leaf off a tree. It's time for change. It is time to move forward you say.

Frightened. More time please. In fear will I grab the ropes, the roots? Let myself fall into myself; feel the weight of my decision? Hanging on moments, swinging thoughts. Lift, lift, lift my feet off this "solid ground". Close my eyes and leave and lift, lift, lift.

That day she punched the fence and she got smaller with every hit. Once...twice...three times, four times faster and then her middle collapsed and she dropped down to the ground holding the fence with two exhausted hands and her head dropped beneath her extended arms. She is angry and confused. "No, no, no" escapes between uneven breaths. And then her insides seep to the earth, through the soil, to the centre of everything. And those sore hands release from their grip on the wooden fence. There she is sitting on the grass and her tears are drowing her, she can't breathe. SOMEBODY HELP. She can't pull out anymore hair. And I can't lift her up because the weight of this is too heavy and it is burying her. I see weights in her arms and her sweaty hands make nests of salt in her hair. She can't look up. She is smaller than she's ever been-every muscle contracts with each sob and then finally they release and she lets me hug her. She lets me hold her as we both cry there. She lets me hold her on the side of that busy summer street.

Soft, smooth. She is feathered- spread across, apart. Balancing hope on divided wings. Calm in chaos. Lift lift lift the energy. Whisper courage through the sirens; hear it through the screams. Calm in chaos. Cover, surround, guard. She lifts, she lifts, she lifts and "it is the life in her". Lingering emotion...the dust of what was.

You are a visual of the space in-between. You are like dust in the sunlight; something left behind, so defeated, that turned into dancing sparkles that defy gravity. And you seem to lie on the sun rays as it shines through you. You are balanced and gently expanded through space. You are in our space, the space we share, and we notice you.

She said that when you go you come back as butterflies. Not just one, but hundreds. You become a hundred fragments of white with wings. It's time for change. It is time to move forward you say.

So, now it's been a while. Why am I thinking about you again...you keep coming back to me in waves, but not waves of tears, but waves of silence. The moments I remember now are the moments that made me stay. I miss you. I miss having you in my life. I want your presence. I want to hold you. I want you to hold me. I want to close my eyes and suddenly be beside you on those nights, those mornings. Nothing needs to be said. Please visit me tonight... I want to feel you here. I want you to be with me again. I feel sadness in a new way, a quiet way. It's humbling me along. I cleaned my entire room out this afternoon. I dusted you out of my reality, but you stay with me in my dreams, my fiction. How do I lose that part of myself without falling apart completely? I thought it was finished. I have to stop looking at this closed door. And I just realized that you became a want instead of a need. I said I want. That's what I said more than once. I need to open a window and get some fresh air.

You called me last night. Twice. And I didn't call you back. Maybe that makes up for the past two nights I spent thinking about why you didn't call me back when you said you would last time. How was she? How are all of them? And the thing is, is that I didn't not call you to get even with you. I did it to get even with myself. I did it to try to convince my heart to be on the same page as my brain. You see, I know what I need to do now. Did you know that? Did you know that I sometimes I can imagine something new and it doesn't scare the shit out of me anymore? It used to and sometimes it still does...but the possibility of more, or different, or anything is starting to lift me up again. And today I didn't think I was fat, even though I am as big as I thought I looked yesterday, and that's kind of nice. And I might even say I felt pretty today. I felt pretty without calling you. I slept last night- this morning I gave myself an extra hour after my alarm went off and it went by like five minutes, and then I listened to music that made me think of me instead of you and me. These are small changes and I might go back to old ways again... I might lose my strength, and weight, but I didn't call you back last night so maybe that means I'll be able to convince myself not call you back tonight either... It makes me kind of sad and I want to explain to you, so that I don't hurt you...so that you can understand...but if I call you to tell you that I'm trying not calling you anymore, I'll still be calling you...and then I'll say everything I'm trying not to say; all the things you already know-my feelings for you, my hopes that should be lost by now. I'd say "I want to erase everything you did to me, so I can go back. So that I have permission to go back." and then in the back of my mind I'll think "why, why, why? What is it that I need? What is it that makes me call you when I do and think about you non-stop throughout the day?"-because when I say I'm not thinking about you anymore, I'm still thinking about you in my attempt to not think about you. Validate me so I don't have to. I don't know how anymore. Where did I go? What happened to that girl I was? The only part of her I know anymore is her persistance to keep you around, to keep some kind of connection with you. And I'm so tired and I don't know how. You've stripped me of my options and now it should be about me...I'm lying there exposed and vunerable. One false move and I could be taken advantage of yet again. I could set myself up for disaster so easily and I want to so badly. I want to fall apart. I want to break down. I want everything to fall to pieces so that I can have the strength to throw it all away. Make my body mine again. God I'm so sad. I just want to find peace again. I want to be free. Let me go, but don't forget about me-I deserve more than that.

So I'm going to let you leave now. I'm going to leave you. I'm going to sit up straight and say "I am over you." I am going to look at you in my minds eye and say "You have hurt me more than I can possibly understand, more than you can possibly pretend you didn't. How could you demolish me?" I'm so tired of crying and holding on to you. I see you everyday, in every room, every time I eat a fucking tuna fish sandwich on whole wheat with a side of fucking pickles. I want to talk to you every time I'm losing it and lately that's all the time. And then I destroy my small world even more. And there she is, a perfect ass, just for you. I thought that was valuable, or at least I came to think that. And I'm so hungry and I'm so exhausted and I want to be skinny damn it and I can't. I've earned to be skinnier than all of those stupid whores. Leave me please. Leave me now, because I think I can pretend you hate me now. I think I can convince myself that I was worthless to you. If you say you love me one more time I will tell you " " nothing. I have nothing left. You have robbed me from any self-worth I once posessed and you forgot to call me two nights ago and I still remember that you forgot to call me two nights ago. So please don't call; let me be a body to you so that I can throw my body away when I throw you away and then maybe, just maybe I can be left with something new to focus on. I hate you...I HATE you so much. and i'm crying and you don't deserve it, you don't deserve to have me love you this much...i keep saying you don't deserve it. I know what you're doing...you're making them hate you because you don't really want them. and you don't really want me. and I don't really want you, I just think I do. I think i do everyday, all day, but apparently I don't, because how can I want you now? You've given me no choice and it's worked out well for you. And you know what? I never yelled at you-and the other day in acting they tried to make me get angry and I couldn't-all I could do was eventually cry. You've taught me to cry...and I'm so tired because I'm carrying around all this fucking weight and I can't put it down. I can't put it down. I can't.
I looked at myself the other day...."how are you" and I thought "i'm fine". and I kept asking myself and my answer kept changing and then I just cried. I cried. And I'll probably run myself dry one day and then I'll have nothing left but anger and then maybe I'll start to deal with what we did to eachother.
what we did to eachother.
what we did to eachother.
I'll write more when I can think again. I hope you don't call me tonight. I hope you are safe. I hope I can do this.