the eyes of the beast are red and glowing

This isn't a recap of the year, or what i expect for the next. I wouldn't call it a rant either... it's more like a much needed talk.

i hate bringing up things that makes it seem that i need attention. if anything i hate talking about what's going on with my life. this is something that i have practiced since i was young and being asked to let that go is like betraying who i am. if anything bothers me, i brush it off. lately, due to my therapists request, i have been "bitching" and "complaining" like crazy. i don't chose to be miserable. i really don't. but when people tell me that i need to wake up and smell the roses, i feel like letting my fists do the talking. i have days when i wake up and go "this is going to be a good day, i can feel it" but i have those "fuck you, i don't need you" days, too. again, i don't force myself to feel like a worthless piece of shit. despite my trying, it seems nearly impossible to turn my frown upside down. so, fuck me for being a complete,  whiny, annoying, bitch sometimes but telling me to get over it wouldn't make me feel any better. saying that, i understand that there are people far worse than me. but at the same times, i don't understand how bad i am or could potentially get. i knew there were risks when i decided to go ahead and receive medication for my anxiety/depression, and the first few weeks were hard to get by but as soon as i got used to waking up and taking the damn pill, it was like, the greatest invention ever. I have denied myself to be controlled by that quarter-inch of plastic. i even ditched my meeting with my psychiatrist today. i have fallen to the same pattern again. this damn pattern has been followed religiously for the past two years but i hate the idea that i have to be dependent on a drug to make myself want to be alive. i fear that when you read this that you'll get the idea that I'm exaggerating, that it can't be that bad. i have a sunken feeling in the pit of my stomach whenever i think about what people may think about me.

this year has consisted of too much sleep, isolation, medication, therapy, trying to revive my friendships, and plenty of good times.

next year is as hazy as any other.

i am as optimistic as i am pessimistic. 

im going to ask something of you. if you read this, tell me what you think. i would rather know what you really feel than not know. if its going to be harsh, say it. if its understanding, say it. just talk!

I DONT WANT TO FEEL LIKE IM TALKING TO A FUCKING WALL AGAIN!

Dear Diary,

By now I believe you know the darkest of my secrets many of which lie behind the series of somewhat-unintentional fuck you's i gladly engraved on your skin. Despite your welcoming lines and your beautiful, white page glow, you've failed at giving me a voice. The head above my shoulders isn't a solid one, but rather a head thats been covered up in slew of darkenss. this conversation isn't one to dwell in my unforgiving hate for the world, this conversation is meant to finally say what i've been repeating my whole, unsuccessful and shameless life; I AM A SPEC OF DUST. i'm nothing more than the crumbs on your shirt that you so elegantly sweep off with your graceful hand. i'm nothing more than the dirt between your finger and your nail. i'm not a graceful dancers or a singer with a soul, i am everything that has been and never will be.
i have plans for the future and stories for many tomorrows.
stay tuned, diary.


forever yours,
______________

p.s. dont attempt to drown me in the beauty i have ignored.

three cheers for shit years

if i could go back to the day we decided to become friends, i would. not to embrace the feeling and savor the moment but to keep it from ever happening. i never understood what people meant when they said that friends come and go but after countless, sleepless nights and several, uncontrollable tears, i believe i know what it means.
i hate myself for not being able to let everything go and i hate that you don't give a fuck.
all the plans we had after high school meant the world to me; i couldn't wait to get out of here and live with a person i've known for almost six years. thinking about it all know, i should've known better than to trust a couple of teenagers.

i'm not the greatest friend, but if you needed me, I WAS THERE.
when you threw me under the bus and made me feel like shit, i swallowed my pride and took the first step towards a reconciliation. and i can't be that person anymore.

i really hope i never see you again. not for my sake, but for yours.

good riddance.

who's to say today is your day?

i've said that my heart feels heavy and every time i do, it seems like i gain 50 pounds more. my mind seems like its falling into the darkest, deepest well and the shivers going down my spine are getting to be such a burden. i'm ashamed to admit that i almost gave up.
i managed to trace my veins again.
my only regret is that i didn't do much damage.

i can't imagine what more i can say to make people realize that what is eating me up inside is getting to be a much greater struggle than ever before.
attention isn't what i want.
i want to be happy, calm, alive instead of ....this.

i am no longer really here

my eyes almost feel as heavy as my shoulders. i'm slaving the days away but have gained so little.
dr. urge and his accomplices are trying to convince me that i'm just growing old.

what do you do when everything you knew means nothing to the people you care about?

yesterday i figured it out.
i'm on my own.

my goodbyes are overdue.

I've got too much time in my hands.

I want to write a book. Problem is that I don't know how I would start it or what it would be about. I kinda had an idea that I should just write whatever random thing came up but knowing me, that wont go very well. I don't want it to be too random either, you know?
I wouldn't write it to be a famous author, or to get paid... I just want to have something that'll last longer than I ever will.

I also want to make a film. Hahaha, yeah, I know. But, just like the book idea, I don't really have a direction.

Plus, money is an issue.

What the fuck?!

I've been dreaming up some crazy, weird shit the last two days (I haven't slept since yesterday, fyi).

The first night I dreamt about being in a Christmas cake making competition and I ended up getting lost in my friend's kitchen. Soon after that, I was in some sort of plaza being chased by a man. I hop in a car and start to drive around like a freaking maniac. Superheroes start to chase me in their own separate cars. To clarify, I'm not too sure what superheroes they were but they were dressed the part, so, yeah. I then decide that the only way to get rid off them is to crash into them and so I proceed to do just that.

The second night I dreamt about, well, I'm not going to go into full detail about the first part of my dream cause it really makes me sick but I will say this: it involves incest, child abuse, insults, and me violently beating up my mother. After that ends, I'm in a classroom working on some math problems. The classroom then turns into a battlefield and we're fighting off a monster. From there, I end up crossing the street with a friend from school. We go into a building where I meet up with old friends and continue to fight off monsters. I then end up in a small neighborhood where I see a girl having sex with a guy in their car while her dad is out looking for her. I enter their house and pretend I'm asleep as her dad makes his way into the girl's room screaming at us that we "better be in bed or so help me god." He leaves, I jump the window and I pull out my cigarettes. There's a problem with my ciggs and I get blazing mad. My little brother is there with me and we run back inside.

There's a lot I left out and I know it but I cannot remember what that is.
I should've written about this earlier.

i wanna take a ride on your cancer stick

I had a dream that I found hundreds of cigarette boxes in my house.
This has been going on for days.


Hook me up?

S N O W B A L L .

I have made a living off of keeping things from others. When I don't, I feel like I'm sacrificing a huge part of myself.

I am not terribly sad but I'm not uncontrollably happy. I'd like to say that I'm somewhat in between but I'm not too sure where I am.

This is slightly leaning towards the other side of the radar. Kind of optimistic, but not really.

I don't plan to do much of anything anymore. I either end up not following through or I'm simply not included. Can't really say why I should be included but it bothers me most of the time, to tell you the truth, when I'm the only one who isn't.

Anyway, a decision was made on Wednesday and I'm barely getting to it. To be honest, I'm pretty sure I'm going to be part of an experiment. That's all everything is, anyway -an experiment. It shouldn't be much to worry about though. The only thing that would crush me would be if I'm given a placebo. It'll be a cruel joke to play on me. No kidding. It'd be like that episode of Family Guy, when Stewie is drunk. The only thing is that he isn't actually drunk because he never really drank alcohol but he was convinced he did so he acted like he was.
Anyway, that's the best way I could describe it. If you don't get it, I don't blame you. All I ever really do is ramble about things that don't even relate to one another so it isn't that big of a deal.

I was thinking of starting on Moby Dick. I gotta say, the size of that thing is pretty intimidating. I kinda feel like I need to warm up for it first and then give it a shot. Kinda like reading a decent sized book and gradually working my way up, you know? I'm not gonna lie, I thought it was a Bible at first. Not because of the name, though. Mostly because of how it looks. It has this Bible-esque look and feel to it. Anyway, the thing is massive. You oughta take a loot at it.

Anyone read 'It Happened to Nancy'? Should I bother? Wait, I should clear that up... Is it better than 'Go Ask Alice'? Cause I mean, if it is, I'm giving it a shot.

I'm rambling. Anyway, enjoy your day. I mean it.

The basis of our relationship is an unhealthy one.

Awaken by the shriek of the sun, I rub my eyes and make my way towards the window. It smells like rain but the chances are empty. I ask the sunrise why he's chosen today to be the beginning of another yesterday. He doesn't answer, he just stares me down. Disappointed, I turn my back to him, adding another gap between us.

And when the battle was done I was promised my sun But with a thousand nights gone To any kingdom I run

I tried this new thing the last couple of days. At the time I figured that it would set an alarm to the rest of the world but instead, it reassured me of my deepest fears. I've had a knot in my throat ever since then. Tears are tasteless and my mind is over its capacity with the things I can't bring myself to say out-loud.
I have resorted to destroying a wall in my room. It's no longer white...now it's bleeding with the colors of my abandonment.

So let go, let go.

Yesterday may have been one of the hardest days of my life;
I had to sit through therapy and listen to my mom's cries about how she feels that she's failed me because I don't smile anymore. As much as would like to say that isn't true, I can't help but to feel like she's one of the reasons why I feel so fucking numb. I've been blaming myself for so long and I'm just so sick of it.
She can't seem to remember that she pushed me under the bus when it came to my other brothers and sisters. "I'm not your mother," "This is all your fault," "I'm going to kill you." All of that was thrown out of the window when she revealed her most inner thoughts. I felt bad for her and I was mad at myself for it.

People make mistakes. That's not a good enough excuse anymore.

It's common for someone who has been abused to abuse someone else. I'd hate to be just like my mom.

Life isn't easy. Lord knows I know that.

Your communication barrier has to be let down. No. I've slaved myself building it up my entire life and there is no way in hell I'm going to stop now.

It's sad that the only thing stopping you from acting on your thoughts is money. It is sad.

We're going to have to do this, for her sake and yours. I'm done.

I revealed that I was sick of it. I have only small amount of hope left because my mom did a good job at degrading it. There was so much more I could've said but I refused to do it. I didn't want to hurt my mom.


Next stop- a meeting with a psychiatrist.

what you see matters to me

i have this thing where i refuse to look at any mirrors during the night but it's slowly crept up on daylight hours...guess i realized that there isn't much to look at.
i hate my hair.
i hate my skin.
i hate my eyebrows.
i hate my teeth.
i hate my lips.
i hate my nose.
i hate that my eyes notice the smallest imperfections.
i hate that my eyes water when i look at my reflection.
i hate that i am not comfortable with what i see.

Honestly, i can't remember the last time i looked at myself in a mirror.

i always look tired.
i always look like me.

What if the banner falls and the presenters are suffocated?

i try to refrain from making too much out of nothing. but i then end up convincing myself that that nothing is actually something becuase if it weren't then i wouldn't make too much of it ...mostly because i strongly believe that i am just not that type of person.
that then leads to an absurd amount of hours in a mind-fuck battle between Gen. WhatIf and Sgt. ThenThatMeans. don't ask me who wins though 'cause i wouldn't be able to give you a straight answer.
admitting that i am a mess would be an understatement. but frankly, i don't know how else to put it. and plus, everyone knows how that feels like so i know i won't stand alone in that.

here is where the silver lining lies;
the wonders of being transported into a universe of impossible possibilities is unleashed and accepted.
the best part about it is that you don't even have to try to make it happen. It's JUST THERE.
it's a miracle, a miracle!

because i can't afford a voice recorder

there was a time when not a single thing bothered me. commands barked by my mother didn't break the sound barrier so i never got to hear them. taunts from girls smaller than me in grade school made me glad i was one of the boys. i never cried. i never said it hurt. i never, not once, let any living thing get the best of me.

you see, after the age of six, i left behind any form of incompetence to hang along side the belt i swore would take me to a better place. that doesn't make much sense, does it? in other words, i tried to choke myself with a belt i found in my parents' bedroom floor. i wasn't trying to kill myself. i was just curious to see what would happen if i stopped breathing. i knew what death was but at the time i thought it was just something my parents made up in order to make me want to get there faster. i can't blame them.

things were fine then. it kinda seems like i had nothing going for me but i was rich when it came to motivation. "I'll show you!" i was like a damn record player. that's all i ever said to myself. that was my comeback to everything.

the highlight of my education was in sixth grade. man, i felt on top of the world. i was one of the smartest kids in class and i loved it. i had set my heart on YouSeeElAye and there was nothing that was going to stop me. but we all know how that turned out.

high school went by quick. and now I'm here.
trial and error; story of my life.

I have some things I need to work on. I'm not a negative person. I think I'm just realistic. I can cross the line though.

I'm a person of few words (hence the short autobiography)

can i get get get to know know know you better better baby

it isnt much.

little shadow

you don't even know
you don't even know
you don't even know
you don't even fucking know.

there is a seriousness in all this.
tough shit, huh?



old habits to be restored in a few minutes
and in a few minutes everything will be
forever and ever,
an indication that
maybe, just maybe,
my identity will lie in either
door number one
door number two
or door number three.


here she is;
packed fists
blood-shot eyes
trembling voice
broken spirit


welcome back,
dull body.

a mindful of darkness awaits.

According to dreammoods.com, I am experiencing some confrontation in my waking life

Last night, I had two strange dreams. Okay, who am I kidding. Most of my dreams are weird but these two take the cake.

First dream: I was walking up what looked like the bleachers in my high school gym while singing a song by Adele (i believe it was Chasing Pavements). And as I'm making my way to the top, every single person I made contact with, in one way or another, throughout my high school years walked past me. My friends just looked at me like they had no idea who i was. I kept singing.

Second dream: I was in a large house. the lights were off and i didn't bother to turn them on as i went inside the bathroom. i look outside and see people running, like seriously running in different directions. a man pounds on the window i'm looking out of and begs me to get out of there and run. i hesitate but i do as he said. i was being shot at by some people in an army looking truck. i needed to find a hiding place fast so i climbed the tallest tree i could find. all of a sudden, i end up in an elementary school during recess. A lady calls in all the kids and orders them to get under their desks and start reading. she pulls out a gun and starts to shoot every single kid, making her way around the classroom without hesitation. a little blond boy begs her not to do to him what she had done to half of his classmates. she tells him to sit down and calmly asks the other kids to look up for a moment and shoots him in the head, just like the others, in front of everyone. nobody cries.

What am I afraid of? Is it really that hard for me to let go of the past? Am I hopeless?