Sometimes, when our hearts are sad inside
God sends us a new tune to dance to,
a new friend who isn't OVERLY alarmed by massive hyper Payton (poor thing XDD)
And we kill boxes,
and we kill each other's asses with Love chains
and we laugh at the people in the dumpster, people in the dumpster laugh at us
and everyone
is happy, young and free.
Nights like these
are why I have a blog at all
because even though I write the bad things
it's things like this I want to remember
I want to remember my new friend's smile,
trust she gave me without even considering it
trust I was wounded for offering another.
Another friend--!
I'm lucky Katie has you,
or I couldn't have met you at all
and I would still be sad, then.
I will protect
my new friend's heart....
I am happy, tonight.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Monday, June 27, 2011
Special
I've never had a person
who broke my heart twice
after I'd given them a second chance
not since Ryan.
I heard the words, "I love you"
mixed with "I don't trust you like you want"
and "you can't fix me, Payton."
One misplaced assumption on top of another
means tears that I cannot repress,
not even when you wanted me too.
My heart is lost,
and my heart gets conflicted, and wraps around those toils
you say it, Schultz says it, and that is quite true.
There are things you miss, however.
How happy I am.
How easy it is for me to make others smile
the beauty in my voice for knowing what I say is true.
Your lack of trust,
of faith
does not make my heart less true,
or even less willing to sing for you.
But you made me cry
after I gave you my heart again
you took it and didn't do anything with it...
you didn't want it at all.
I could do nothing different,
I did exactly what you wanted
and now, we are "petty friends"
whatever that means, to you.
"You can't fix me, Payton. It's not your job!"
"I've never met someone who sacrificed their own feelings for mine before. I don't like it, I want to help you. Stop it!"
"Why are you so agreeable? Stop it!"
I told you about the Roses,
showed you their thorns, told my story,
confused you, explained myself
and I tried to be normal.
You were the one
who was searching last night.
Not me.
I wanted to the whole night,
and I did not
and you wanted me to want to
and you kicked me for it.
I'll tell you a secret, though?
I still love you.
Your pain will always
be worth my tears,
Kate Murley.
And I will not let go....
Unless you want me to.
Agreeable, remember?
who broke my heart twice
after I'd given them a second chance
not since Ryan.
I heard the words, "I love you"
mixed with "I don't trust you like you want"
and "you can't fix me, Payton."
One misplaced assumption on top of another
means tears that I cannot repress,
not even when you wanted me too.
My heart is lost,
and my heart gets conflicted, and wraps around those toils
you say it, Schultz says it, and that is quite true.
There are things you miss, however.
How happy I am.
How easy it is for me to make others smile
the beauty in my voice for knowing what I say is true.
Your lack of trust,
of faith
does not make my heart less true,
or even less willing to sing for you.
But you made me cry
after I gave you my heart again
you took it and didn't do anything with it...
you didn't want it at all.
I could do nothing different,
I did exactly what you wanted
and now, we are "petty friends"
whatever that means, to you.
"You can't fix me, Payton. It's not your job!"
"I've never met someone who sacrificed their own feelings for mine before. I don't like it, I want to help you. Stop it!"
"Why are you so agreeable? Stop it!"
I told you about the Roses,
showed you their thorns, told my story,
confused you, explained myself
and I tried to be normal.
You were the one
who was searching last night.
Not me.
I wanted to the whole night,
and I did not
and you wanted me to want to
and you kicked me for it.
I'll tell you a secret, though?
I still love you.
Your pain will always
be worth my tears,
Kate Murley.
And I will not let go....
Unless you want me to.
Agreeable, remember?
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Special: take a breath
Finley came. He's bringing me chocolate.
Me: I know you're busy... I just want to talk to you. Please?
Her: Whats up
Me: You remember all those people at Festivus who promised not to judge me? Who left their good wishes and promises in my heart as a token of faith to my humanity?
Yeah, they left. They left with their good wishes and promises and all I have left is the used up token....
simple english: I am lonely.
I just want someone to talk to me. That's all I want.
Her: I am sorry. Personally for not using my free time for you when i should
Me: I am tired of people breaking their promises to me. I am rejected by people who liked me such a short time ago... Kate I have spoken and heard from three people this summer. Three. And you aren't one of them... so I can ask what I did wrong? Please. Please tell me what I did.
Her: Why does it always have to be your fault someone else is a shitty friend
Me: You aren't. Many people remind me of your good qualities. Surely the fact this happens EVERY SUMMER AND BREAK is not YOUR fault?
Her: I am at a loss for words right now
Me: I'm sorry. I just feel lonely, and people like you make it go away.
Her: Well i am glad. You inferiorate of tho (what does this mean, exactly?)
Me: Will you see me soon?
....Please?
Her: What are you doing sunday night. No concrete promises cuz do have to double check with the mother but i would like you to spend the night
Me: I am entirely available, Kate. Thank you.
Her: see its not really that big of a deal in just very lazy sometimes :(
Me: You... are not... lazy.
Her: yea i am but your sweet.
Me: I know you're busy... I just want to talk to you. Please?
Her: Whats up
Me: You remember all those people at Festivus who promised not to judge me? Who left their good wishes and promises in my heart as a token of faith to my humanity?
Yeah, they left. They left with their good wishes and promises and all I have left is the used up token....
simple english: I am lonely.
I just want someone to talk to me. That's all I want.
Her: I am sorry. Personally for not using my free time for you when i should
Me: I am tired of people breaking their promises to me. I am rejected by people who liked me such a short time ago... Kate I have spoken and heard from three people this summer. Three. And you aren't one of them... so I can ask what I did wrong? Please. Please tell me what I did.
Her: Why does it always have to be your fault someone else is a shitty friend
Me: You aren't. Many people remind me of your good qualities. Surely the fact this happens EVERY SUMMER AND BREAK is not YOUR fault?
Her: I am at a loss for words right now
Me: I'm sorry. I just feel lonely, and people like you make it go away.
Her: Well i am glad. You inferiorate of tho (what does this mean, exactly?)
Me: Will you see me soon?
....Please?
Her: What are you doing sunday night. No concrete promises cuz do have to double check with the mother but i would like you to spend the night
Me: I am entirely available, Kate. Thank you.
Her: see its not really that big of a deal in just very lazy sometimes :(
Me: You... are not... lazy.
Her: yea i am but your sweet.
Special
I fit into peoples' lives.
They do not fit into mine, for I make space for them
I cut edges here and sew a seam there to make their hearts in line with mine.
It is frusterating to know that truth and be powerless against it.
Especially when I am jealous or feel lonely,
even when I'm surrounded by people who once swore friendship.
It isn't that what I have isn't enough,
it's that what I have isn't entirely there to begin with.
Old rejections are coming into being real again
and it hurts me.
I
am powerless.
If you stabbed me in the shoulder,
and then you got a paper cut in the letter to me reading 'FUCK YOURSELF',
I'd get you a band-aid before I asked you to call an ambulance.
You can't answer my calls?
And of course, others of you never cared to begin with
the one that did is busy (angels always are)
and my hero is busy communicating with others like me.
Finley's there. Finley's there....
But he's not here now.
No one is, except the flamingo I'm turning into a pirate later.
God, I want to kill something
but I'll manage to kick something and scream into a pillow.
Quiet, Payton.
Be gentle, Payton...
They do not fit into mine, for I make space for them
I cut edges here and sew a seam there to make their hearts in line with mine.
It is frusterating to know that truth and be powerless against it.
Especially when I am jealous or feel lonely,
even when I'm surrounded by people who once swore friendship.
It isn't that what I have isn't enough,
it's that what I have isn't entirely there to begin with.
Old rejections are coming into being real again
and it hurts me.
I
am powerless.
If you stabbed me in the shoulder,
and then you got a paper cut in the letter to me reading 'FUCK YOURSELF',
I'd get you a band-aid before I asked you to call an ambulance.
You can't answer my calls?
And of course, others of you never cared to begin with
the one that did is busy (angels always are)
and my hero is busy communicating with others like me.
Finley's there. Finley's there....
But he's not here now.
No one is, except the flamingo I'm turning into a pirate later.
God, I want to kill something
but I'll manage to kick something and scream into a pillow.
Quiet, Payton.
Be gentle, Payton...
Special
My friend Jess let me clean her mothers' house today, clean until I was tired and even did not want to move much more despite the job remaining marginally unfinished.
Poor Jess. I wonder what it's like to be so bright and cheerful while battling a darkness I assume is Depression and the subsequent plume of what I believe is ADHD?
No wonder she needed another brightling.
Well, she can count on me.
I ate subway today. I made Jess, Josh, and her brother laugh. We were kind together, good together. The woman at the counter was a bitc---err, rather unpleasant to feel.
Tomorrow, a play with friends and Schultz. To see Adam.
Katie back tonight!! I feel better. Kate's been busy, but I've seen Hannah. Also, my Finley... I cannot forget to have seen him, of course. My heart halves....
Mm. Regardless... I am.... tired.
And maybe, a little tired of being hoisted off when I am done working.
Just a little...
Just this once.
Poor Jess. I wonder what it's like to be so bright and cheerful while battling a darkness I assume is Depression and the subsequent plume of what I believe is ADHD?
No wonder she needed another brightling.
Well, she can count on me.
I ate subway today. I made Jess, Josh, and her brother laugh. We were kind together, good together. The woman at the counter was a bitc---err, rather unpleasant to feel.
Tomorrow, a play with friends and Schultz. To see Adam.
Katie back tonight!! I feel better. Kate's been busy, but I've seen Hannah. Also, my Finley... I cannot forget to have seen him, of course. My heart halves....
Mm. Regardless... I am.... tired.
And maybe, a little tired of being hoisted off when I am done working.
Just a little...
Just this once.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Special
Another night for Holmes and Tudors, except that for wanting them I find myself despising both. My, this would be a night for friends, but you know how it is in the summer: people use the time to rest. Hannah obliges curfew, Finley obliges the silly need for sleep most people have, Katie's mending hearts in Superior, and most everybody else is dreaming.
I don't like dreaming.
Last night, I literally dreamt that I dug a fetus out of my breast. A dead baby fetus. DAN'S baby. How fucked up is that? Seriously!
I don't like dreaming,
and I don't want to sleep.
I want something to do, though. I don't want to sit still.
I wish there was someone else with my sleep deprivation. Someone who, magically, would wake up and go, "I must look for who is in trouble!!" like I do.
But there isn't, and they don't.
After all, they aren't me.
Special... yeah... it's a blast....
Cleaning Jess' Kitchen tomorrow, and, more likely, the comprehensive version is that I'll end up doing her mother's house. Must be a test of my skills.... delightful.
Schultz invited me to help her move and I noticed that all--I mean ALL--of her students are friends with her now. I'm like, what is this? I had to wait!
It isn't a like thing though. It's just that she would have gotten in trouble at the time, and there's no reason to invite reprimand down from the fool's kingdom, needless to say. Still... circumstance can be delicious for the taunting of us, sometimes--to say the least!
Mm.... God, would you send me a friend tonight?
Some one to talk my troubles to,
just for the sake of talking
would do my screaming heart
a lot of good.
Screaming for company...
how happily regular a plight!
I don't like dreaming.
Last night, I literally dreamt that I dug a fetus out of my breast. A dead baby fetus. DAN'S baby. How fucked up is that? Seriously!
I don't like dreaming,
and I don't want to sleep.
I want something to do, though. I don't want to sit still.
I wish there was someone else with my sleep deprivation. Someone who, magically, would wake up and go, "I must look for who is in trouble!!" like I do.
But there isn't, and they don't.
After all, they aren't me.
Special... yeah... it's a blast....
Cleaning Jess' Kitchen tomorrow, and, more likely, the comprehensive version is that I'll end up doing her mother's house. Must be a test of my skills.... delightful.
Schultz invited me to help her move and I noticed that all--I mean ALL--of her students are friends with her now. I'm like, what is this? I had to wait!
It isn't a like thing though. It's just that she would have gotten in trouble at the time, and there's no reason to invite reprimand down from the fool's kingdom, needless to say. Still... circumstance can be delicious for the taunting of us, sometimes--to say the least!
Mm.... God, would you send me a friend tonight?
Some one to talk my troubles to,
just for the sake of talking
would do my screaming heart
a lot of good.
Screaming for company...
how happily regular a plight!
Monday, June 20, 2011
Special: "You clean for FUN?!"
When I ask folk to
let me cast my hands upon their kitchen,
sweep their floor until it sparkles,
cleanse their dishes of their food,
they stare at me with confusion
that for my life, simple words could not dispel.
I will try again.
Friends, your Kitchen,
sparkling and full of promise,
is not what brings me joy.
Rather, the knowledge you will desecrate my labor
merely for necessary use,
that is what gives me glee
inside my singing heart.
For while I clean there is companionship,
laughter, kindness and a feeling of usefulness
to men, the ones with pain inside
that a clean kitchen will help for the doing.
There is the knowledge I will bring you
happiness and a place to feel safe, at home
as all Kitchens can be while you use them
even if you sit at a table to read, to write bad poetry
that is the giving nature, of Kitchens.
Your kitchen
I will clean,
while singing it dreams to refresh it
from your "sad abuse".
Ha, ha!
You never knew!
let me cast my hands upon their kitchen,
sweep their floor until it sparkles,
cleanse their dishes of their food,
they stare at me with confusion
that for my life, simple words could not dispel.
I will try again.
Friends, your Kitchen,
sparkling and full of promise,
is not what brings me joy.
Rather, the knowledge you will desecrate my labor
merely for necessary use,
that is what gives me glee
inside my singing heart.
For while I clean there is companionship,
laughter, kindness and a feeling of usefulness
to men, the ones with pain inside
that a clean kitchen will help for the doing.
There is the knowledge I will bring you
happiness and a place to feel safe, at home
as all Kitchens can be while you use them
even if you sit at a table to read, to write bad poetry
that is the giving nature, of Kitchens.
Your kitchen
I will clean,
while singing it dreams to refresh it
from your "sad abuse".
Ha, ha!
You never knew!
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Special: Lament
"I am perfectly ordinary, minus the fact I am a genius...."
It's my fault... I've been digging through some old things after my fight with Finley...
Report · 12:20am
Fight?
Report · 12:20am
Trying to figure myself out faster...
Report · 12:20am
Are you okay?
Report · 12:20am
I am not injured.
Report · 12:20am
Mentally?
Report · 12:20am
I did that to myself.
Emotionally... I would argue that was him, I suppose...
Report · 12:22am
sigh Don't mess yourself too much while I'm away
It makes it harder for me to hug you
Report · 12:22am
I've hidden it very well, haven't I?
Report · 12:22am
Yes.
Report · 12:23am
I shouldn't have kept myself from you.
I had no right.
Then, perhaps that is better.
I am no longer your concern.
Report · 12:23am
Excuse me?
Lies Princess.
I'm still your magician, you myu secret keeper
Report · 12:24am
A secret keeper is about as useless to a heart full of a new affair from Love as winter is to Beehives.
She even cleans.
Well.
And why entrust things to me? You have her.
Report · 12:25am
You have NOT been replaced my love.
Report · 12:25am
I am not the one among we two who said that, Katie.
You are.
I have a place in your heart, yes. That is not diminished.
But circumstance will change it.
Your time of crisis is over.
You see, people have this habit of abandoning me when crisis ends.
Only, not?
They do not abandon. Abandon is harsh, abandon implies I am being used and then discarded.
You have not done that.
But the place in your heart... fades.... when I am not needed. I am.... a seasonal... plant.
This happens... often... with those who take Love from me.
As I have been reminded...
Report · 12:28am
Seriously if your going to talk about yourself like someone who should be discarded that's what's going to happen
You are worth so much more then that and I am SICK of you not thinking so yourself
Your are beautiful young talented... and you need to think of yourself as such
Seriously
Report · 12:29am
There are moments I do.
Report · 12:29am
More moments. MORE
Report · 12:29am
That's the danger of living in a dream world, Katie. A world like mine.
Report · 12:29am
Please
Report · 12:29am
You look at the truth and the dreams and you love the dreams so much you see truth in them.
Report · 12:29am
Please dear, you are... will remain as... my best friend
Happy or not
Report · 12:29am
The truth cuts all the more bitterly, merely for existing.
Report · 12:31am
sigh
Lady friend, I do miss you mucho
Report · 12:31am
I want to pour my heart into someone who doesn't expect it.
Do you have those moments?
I want to walk in the streets and throw out my arms and scream, "YOU'RE WRONG! I'M RIGHT HERE--LOOK AT ME! ....PLEASE!"
Of course, I'd be arrested.
...And probably transferred to a psychologist.
I want someone to look at me and go, Oh. Oh. I was wrong.
I want to change someone into being able to touch my dreams and realize they are worth.... so much more.... than every bad thought or word or gesture.
Yet I can't even pass math...
Can't get my Heroes to like or even desire my company...
I fuck up social interactions...
And I hurt my friends.....my husband....
I confuse myself all the more for being Wise, Katie. That is my secret: merely for existing, I am confused.
They say with genius comes a vision: if I am a genius, and I have a clear vision, why doesn't it work?
Report · 12:34am
Life is confusing.
Report · 12:35am
I understand it perfectly.
That is to say, that I can't understand it at all.
So perfectly.
I can break off little pieces, I can offer them to people who don't want them and won't read or process them.
I don't want it to make sense.
But I want my dreams to mean something...
I want the world to listen.
Report · 12:36am
Me too... welcome growing up to
Very few people actually know what's going on but we fake it.
Report · 12:36am
Especially people I admire. Because I envy that I have the ability to admire them... and never, ever, ever myself.
Not when I have always, always, always done something wrong.
But really, to you? You don't need this anymore, Katie. I'm not helpful.
Now, I simply am.
I'm stuck with being hungry for somebody, somebody like you, to feel my dreams.
Because against the odds it happened; someone listened, and look what I did.
The most terrifying thing in the world is that I was correct.
All you needed to do was listen... and you did.
I.... was... right.
Report · 12:38am
Honey, I'm not fixed
Report · 12:38am
No.
Report · 12:38am
I'm masked better
Report · 12:38am
No you are not.
Fixed.
Report · 12:39am
Listen to?
Report · 12:39am
But there's a difference in you.
That's what I was looking for, that difference, and I found it.
For my tiny, tiny bit, I helped.
And all you had to do was listen.
I want to beat my head against the wall.
I am, after all, being selfish.
You need sleep.
You have a job to do this morning.
Go, friend, my slightly-better friend.
Sleep.
Report · 12:41am
And I'll see you tomorrow and hug you and tell you your allowed to be confused and lost and 18
Report · 12:41am
I know exactly where I am.
It's the world that's confused.
I will not be eighteen again.
Not if it means the look in Finley's eyes.
Not if it means this much hurt, that otherwise, I could hide and repress--have hidden, have repressed, so successfully.
Report · 12:42am
That's so... sad
Report · 12:43am
And complicated. And dream-made.
And useless.
Report · 12:44am
:(:(
Report · 12:44am
....Useless.
Report · 12:44am
Nothing is fully usualess
Report · 12:44am
Not lacking in substance. Useless.
Report · 12:44am
Can't argure with you.
You won't listen to me
Report · 12:45am
I want to.
I want to listen to someone, Katie.
"Can I be your star sister? Can I at least be that?"
(He frowned at the faery nonsense, the beliefs of the uneducated.... saw her eyes.)
"Yes," he answered, "you can at least be that."
I don't want to hear that I'm beautiful or different, Katie.
Just.... tell me what they mean to you.
Tell me they mean.... something... to you. That I do something.
Report · 12:47am
They mean?
You mean something to me, lots to me.
Report · 12:48am
Dreams, Katie.
Me and my dreams.
Report · 12:49am
Oh yes, dreams mean lots
It's the reason I'm better
Not Renee, dreams
Report · 12:51am
What do they mean to you?
Report · 12:52am
Freedom
Fighing
Getting going
Drive for something better
Report · 12:55am
Thank you, Katie.
I hurt, but I'm not... stricken by it... anymore.
It is barable.
*bearable
Report · 12:55am
Love you
See you tomorrow
mmmmmmmk?
Report · 12:56am
Yes...
Report · 12:56am
And you can be upset and sad and angry and w.e
just make sure I can hug you
Report · 12:57am
My heart hurts for myself.
I am not... used.... to that.
Report · 12:57am
Way to think about yourself...
Report · 12:58am
I want to help me. I think that is good...?
Shakes head More to think about, but you should go to sleep.
I'll see you for the morning.
Report · 1:00am
... Be safe
Report · 1:00am
For your heart and his, I am always... safe.
Safe... for you.
Report · 1:01am
safe for you my dear
Report · 1:02am
I don't know what that means.
Report · 1:02am
Be safe for me and fin and for yourself
Report · 1:02am
I have no desire to injure myself physically.
That would be cowardice.
Report · 1:03am
Mentally?
Don't mess yoursaelf up iunless it's going to end in help
Report · 1:03am
I cannot help that. Such is the crux of brilliance.
Sleep, Katie.
I love you, I'm safe. Now sleep.
It's my fault... I've been digging through some old things after my fight with Finley...
Report · 12:20am
Fight?
Report · 12:20am
Trying to figure myself out faster...
Report · 12:20am
Are you okay?
Report · 12:20am
I am not injured.
Report · 12:20am
Mentally?
Report · 12:20am
I did that to myself.
Emotionally... I would argue that was him, I suppose...
Report · 12:22am
sigh Don't mess yourself too much while I'm away
It makes it harder for me to hug you
Report · 12:22am
I've hidden it very well, haven't I?
Report · 12:22am
Yes.
Report · 12:23am
I shouldn't have kept myself from you.
I had no right.
Then, perhaps that is better.
I am no longer your concern.
Report · 12:23am
Excuse me?
Lies Princess.
I'm still your magician, you myu secret keeper
Report · 12:24am
A secret keeper is about as useless to a heart full of a new affair from Love as winter is to Beehives.
She even cleans.
Well.
And why entrust things to me? You have her.
Report · 12:25am
You have NOT been replaced my love.
Report · 12:25am
I am not the one among we two who said that, Katie.
You are.
I have a place in your heart, yes. That is not diminished.
But circumstance will change it.
Your time of crisis is over.
You see, people have this habit of abandoning me when crisis ends.
Only, not?
They do not abandon. Abandon is harsh, abandon implies I am being used and then discarded.
You have not done that.
But the place in your heart... fades.... when I am not needed. I am.... a seasonal... plant.
This happens... often... with those who take Love from me.
As I have been reminded...
Report · 12:28am
Seriously if your going to talk about yourself like someone who should be discarded that's what's going to happen
You are worth so much more then that and I am SICK of you not thinking so yourself
Your are beautiful young talented... and you need to think of yourself as such
Seriously
Report · 12:29am
There are moments I do.
Report · 12:29am
More moments. MORE
Report · 12:29am
That's the danger of living in a dream world, Katie. A world like mine.
Report · 12:29am
Please
Report · 12:29am
You look at the truth and the dreams and you love the dreams so much you see truth in them.
Report · 12:29am
Please dear, you are... will remain as... my best friend
Happy or not
Report · 12:29am
The truth cuts all the more bitterly, merely for existing.
Report · 12:31am
sigh
Lady friend, I do miss you mucho
Report · 12:31am
I want to pour my heart into someone who doesn't expect it.
Do you have those moments?
I want to walk in the streets and throw out my arms and scream, "YOU'RE WRONG! I'M RIGHT HERE--LOOK AT ME! ....PLEASE!"
Of course, I'd be arrested.
...And probably transferred to a psychologist.
I want someone to look at me and go, Oh. Oh. I was wrong.
I want to change someone into being able to touch my dreams and realize they are worth.... so much more.... than every bad thought or word or gesture.
Yet I can't even pass math...
Can't get my Heroes to like or even desire my company...
I fuck up social interactions...
And I hurt my friends.....my husband....
I confuse myself all the more for being Wise, Katie. That is my secret: merely for existing, I am confused.
They say with genius comes a vision: if I am a genius, and I have a clear vision, why doesn't it work?
Report · 12:34am
Life is confusing.
Report · 12:35am
I understand it perfectly.
That is to say, that I can't understand it at all.
So perfectly.
I can break off little pieces, I can offer them to people who don't want them and won't read or process them.
I don't want it to make sense.
But I want my dreams to mean something...
I want the world to listen.
Report · 12:36am
Me too... welcome growing up to
Very few people actually know what's going on but we fake it.
Report · 12:36am
Especially people I admire. Because I envy that I have the ability to admire them... and never, ever, ever myself.
Not when I have always, always, always done something wrong.
But really, to you? You don't need this anymore, Katie. I'm not helpful.
Now, I simply am.
I'm stuck with being hungry for somebody, somebody like you, to feel my dreams.
Because against the odds it happened; someone listened, and look what I did.
The most terrifying thing in the world is that I was correct.
All you needed to do was listen... and you did.
I.... was... right.
Report · 12:38am
Honey, I'm not fixed
Report · 12:38am
No.
Report · 12:38am
I'm masked better
Report · 12:38am
No you are not.
Fixed.
Report · 12:39am
Listen to?
Report · 12:39am
But there's a difference in you.
That's what I was looking for, that difference, and I found it.
For my tiny, tiny bit, I helped.
And all you had to do was listen.
I want to beat my head against the wall.
I am, after all, being selfish.
You need sleep.
You have a job to do this morning.
Go, friend, my slightly-better friend.
Sleep.
Report · 12:41am
And I'll see you tomorrow and hug you and tell you your allowed to be confused and lost and 18
Report · 12:41am
I know exactly where I am.
It's the world that's confused.
I will not be eighteen again.
Not if it means the look in Finley's eyes.
Not if it means this much hurt, that otherwise, I could hide and repress--have hidden, have repressed, so successfully.
Report · 12:42am
That's so... sad
Report · 12:43am
And complicated. And dream-made.
And useless.
Report · 12:44am
:(:(
Report · 12:44am
....Useless.
Report · 12:44am
Nothing is fully usualess
Report · 12:44am
Not lacking in substance. Useless.
Report · 12:44am
Can't argure with you.
You won't listen to me
Report · 12:45am
I want to.
I want to listen to someone, Katie.
"Can I be your star sister? Can I at least be that?"
(He frowned at the faery nonsense, the beliefs of the uneducated.... saw her eyes.)
"Yes," he answered, "you can at least be that."
I don't want to hear that I'm beautiful or different, Katie.
Just.... tell me what they mean to you.
Tell me they mean.... something... to you. That I do something.
Report · 12:47am
They mean?
You mean something to me, lots to me.
Report · 12:48am
Dreams, Katie.
Me and my dreams.
Report · 12:49am
Oh yes, dreams mean lots
It's the reason I'm better
Not Renee, dreams
Report · 12:51am
What do they mean to you?
Report · 12:52am
Freedom
Fighing
Getting going
Drive for something better
Report · 12:55am
Thank you, Katie.
I hurt, but I'm not... stricken by it... anymore.
It is barable.
*bearable
Report · 12:55am
Love you
See you tomorrow
mmmmmmmk?
Report · 12:56am
Yes...
Report · 12:56am
And you can be upset and sad and angry and w.e
just make sure I can hug you
Report · 12:57am
My heart hurts for myself.
I am not... used.... to that.
Report · 12:57am
Way to think about yourself...
Report · 12:58am
I want to help me. I think that is good...?
Shakes head More to think about, but you should go to sleep.
I'll see you for the morning.
Report · 1:00am
... Be safe
Report · 1:00am
For your heart and his, I am always... safe.
Safe... for you.
Report · 1:01am
safe for you my dear
Report · 1:02am
I don't know what that means.
Report · 1:02am
Be safe for me and fin and for yourself
Report · 1:02am
I have no desire to injure myself physically.
That would be cowardice.
Report · 1:03am
Mentally?
Don't mess yoursaelf up iunless it's going to end in help
Report · 1:03am
I cannot help that. Such is the crux of brilliance.
Sleep, Katie.
I love you, I'm safe. Now sleep.
Special
I should be allowed to act my age.
Eighteen.
Did you see that? Everybody got that? Eighteen. I'm petty and self-conscious and arrogant. I fish for compliments. I get into fights. I try to be agreeable, I clean well. I sing Disney songs and I have open-minded dreams for the future.
I'M EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD. NOT THIRTY. I AM ALLOWED TO WANT IRRESPONSIBLE THINGS.
GOT IT!? ALL OF YOU!?
I should also be allowed to cry when I am sad and throw things when I'm angry,
but I am not.
Self-expression is frowned upon, not only in this city, but the world.
When I do that, people look at me wrongly, I get into fights with my beloved,
I realize the other half is too busy to even answer me and that I shouldn't want her to anyway.
Fuck me right, SHE'S the one that gets to be young. HER.
Not me; I clean and cook. I sweep. I play iSketch with her girlfriend.
I am happy, hopelessly, entirely happy, when she sighs into my hair because she knows she is safe....
And HE'S the one who is responsible. Accordingly agreeable... legal. HE'S the one who tells the other half that now is not the time to stop, that I should have an opportunity for a spot-free future.
I feel under appreciated, I feel hopelessly inebriated by the fun I would have had, legal or no
and you know what?
I'm entitled to that. I'm allowed.... to be... eighteen... years old.
Now is the time to make stupid mistakes that I might regret later, that I'll shake my head over. I'm not saying REALLY stupid (pregnancies, that sort of thing)....
but I AM Chaotic Neutral.
I AM.
And I AM
EIGHTEEN
years old.
But that doesn't mean I should have to flim-flallow like this to satisfy both. Can't I have fun? Can't I feel safe?
Me, just me?
Sometimes,
I hate that I love both of you.
Eighteen.
One. Eight.
Even at eighteen, I shouldn't be crying when I write this....
......Eighteenth summer.....
No more bullies but new problems.
When both my heart-halves are hurting me,
and I realize I'm not worth the trouble to start with....
who do I talk to?
.....Who do I trust?
Eighteen.
Did you see that? Everybody got that? Eighteen. I'm petty and self-conscious and arrogant. I fish for compliments. I get into fights. I try to be agreeable, I clean well. I sing Disney songs and I have open-minded dreams for the future.
I'M EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD. NOT THIRTY. I AM ALLOWED TO WANT IRRESPONSIBLE THINGS.
GOT IT!? ALL OF YOU!?
I should also be allowed to cry when I am sad and throw things when I'm angry,
but I am not.
Self-expression is frowned upon, not only in this city, but the world.
When I do that, people look at me wrongly, I get into fights with my beloved,
I realize the other half is too busy to even answer me and that I shouldn't want her to anyway.
Fuck me right, SHE'S the one that gets to be young. HER.
Not me; I clean and cook. I sweep. I play iSketch with her girlfriend.
I am happy, hopelessly, entirely happy, when she sighs into my hair because she knows she is safe....
And HE'S the one who is responsible. Accordingly agreeable... legal. HE'S the one who tells the other half that now is not the time to stop, that I should have an opportunity for a spot-free future.
I feel under appreciated, I feel hopelessly inebriated by the fun I would have had, legal or no
and you know what?
I'm entitled to that. I'm allowed.... to be... eighteen... years old.
Now is the time to make stupid mistakes that I might regret later, that I'll shake my head over. I'm not saying REALLY stupid (pregnancies, that sort of thing)....
but I AM Chaotic Neutral.
I AM.
And I AM
EIGHTEEN
years old.
But that doesn't mean I should have to flim-flallow like this to satisfy both. Can't I have fun? Can't I feel safe?
Me, just me?
Sometimes,
I hate that I love both of you.
Eighteen.
One. Eight.
Even at eighteen, I shouldn't be crying when I write this....
......Eighteenth summer.....
No more bullies but new problems.
When both my heart-halves are hurting me,
and I realize I'm not worth the trouble to start with....
who do I talk to?
.....Who do I trust?
Special
When we were young,
we gleaned the hopeful lie-truths from this World.
Your good will be rewarded and the evil will be punished,
the sun will always rise on time, no clouds on your birthday,
money in your Christmas cards.
The sad thing
is that I think, sometimes
that the simplicity itself was the lie.
What
do you
think?
we gleaned the hopeful lie-truths from this World.
Your good will be rewarded and the evil will be punished,
the sun will always rise on time, no clouds on your birthday,
money in your Christmas cards.
The sad thing
is that I think, sometimes
that the simplicity itself was the lie.
What
do you
think?
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Special: another for Quotidian (I actually like this one...)
This evening,
there was a Carnival in my village,
a traveling fair for sweet, sweet sound of clinking coins,
purchased tickets, smiles to our partners over cotton candy.
What does it mean to you?
You might well ask:
it means the entire city is soaked,
in inexpensive booze...
Even the cloud-covered moon is wasted,
watching with its hazy eye.
When the city wins quiet again,
when the lights have dimmed, one by one
when city-folk straggle back to cars to homesteads, in their charming yards--
when the city wins quiet again...
I cast superstition aside,
and drive the streets of the city at night.
Though my light is closeted, now
caught from the energy of the storm that was the money-wrenching ride-fest--
my hope is in the silence,
the dreary eyes of men are closed for that price,
and I, a single man,
am awash with silent nothings
in the streets of Paradise city.
Even then, when I begin to see ghosts---
not only of the dead, but of the living, too
the ones inside my head after the lights go out---
I turn my car on the wet pavement,
buy some coffee from a gas station,
and sip at the heat from the living,
feel it bite into my flesh as it perspires:
perfect.
Then,
go home.
What would life be like
if all the streets were empty?
...If life were empty, too?
there was a Carnival in my village,
a traveling fair for sweet, sweet sound of clinking coins,
purchased tickets, smiles to our partners over cotton candy.
What does it mean to you?
You might well ask:
it means the entire city is soaked,
in inexpensive booze...
Even the cloud-covered moon is wasted,
watching with its hazy eye.
When the city wins quiet again,
when the lights have dimmed, one by one
when city-folk straggle back to cars to homesteads, in their charming yards--
when the city wins quiet again...
I cast superstition aside,
and drive the streets of the city at night.
Though my light is closeted, now
caught from the energy of the storm that was the money-wrenching ride-fest--
my hope is in the silence,
the dreary eyes of men are closed for that price,
and I, a single man,
am awash with silent nothings
in the streets of Paradise city.
Even then, when I begin to see ghosts---
not only of the dead, but of the living, too
the ones inside my head after the lights go out---
I turn my car on the wet pavement,
buy some coffee from a gas station,
and sip at the heat from the living,
feel it bite into my flesh as it perspires:
perfect.
Then,
go home.
What would life be like
if all the streets were empty?
...If life were empty, too?
Special: The Musical Erudite (for Quotidian)
My dear Papageno, I know you well.
You are the hopeful fool,
the dying sliver of Moon to scratch the ground with your desire for simple romance and its Pleasures,
heretofore unknown to one as you, the bird-catcher of the spirit world.
We're more alike than you think, bird-Catcher,
so I will offer council:
Love requires sacrifices from both halves.
Love requires a sacrifice of knowledge to gain experience,
and sometimes it hurts you horribly,
so much so your happiness is bereft for knowing it at all, that pain.
And it weighs down your stomach, so unlike the charming duet with Pamina or Papagena
and it squeezes the hard-won air from your human lungs,
and there are no happy endings, no hopeful winnings,
just blood of others on the floor and fights with your heart song
while we would tap our fingers in time with your damnable melody of bliss.
I would sing Pamina, though
to have won the hand of fair Tamino merely for her picture--ah, ah!
But you thought she wanted you,
didn't you?
You tender-hearted fool,
who searched for love!
Let the audience laugh,
I am done with you.
Yet ah, ah!
My misery,
dear, dear Papageno!
My fingers still will tap...
Pa, pa, pa!
You are the hopeful fool,
the dying sliver of Moon to scratch the ground with your desire for simple romance and its Pleasures,
heretofore unknown to one as you, the bird-catcher of the spirit world.
We're more alike than you think, bird-Catcher,
so I will offer council:
Love requires sacrifices from both halves.
Love requires a sacrifice of knowledge to gain experience,
and sometimes it hurts you horribly,
so much so your happiness is bereft for knowing it at all, that pain.
And it weighs down your stomach, so unlike the charming duet with Pamina or Papagena
and it squeezes the hard-won air from your human lungs,
and there are no happy endings, no hopeful winnings,
just blood of others on the floor and fights with your heart song
while we would tap our fingers in time with your damnable melody of bliss.
I would sing Pamina, though
to have won the hand of fair Tamino merely for her picture--ah, ah!
But you thought she wanted you,
didn't you?
You tender-hearted fool,
who searched for love!
Let the audience laugh,
I am done with you.
Yet ah, ah!
My misery,
dear, dear Papageno!
My fingers still will tap...
Pa, pa, pa!
Special: common
Envy is made by human desire.
It strokes our darkest dreams, the ones we hide,
our thunder-hearts
and takes them against us,
mounts them to a force we cannot hope to win against alone,
not without the granted hopes of Dreaming.
That is the loss of men:
the temptation of the secrets that we whisper to the moon,
the clink of coins, paid to the purse of Self
where we would hide our own twisted debauchery from the world.
I know better:
why can not I resist a thing
so common as Envy
for something so right for someone else?
Unless of course I'm right,
and it's totally, completely wrong....
"My empty-hearted star, my love!"
It strokes our darkest dreams, the ones we hide,
our thunder-hearts
and takes them against us,
mounts them to a force we cannot hope to win against alone,
not without the granted hopes of Dreaming.
That is the loss of men:
the temptation of the secrets that we whisper to the moon,
the clink of coins, paid to the purse of Self
where we would hide our own twisted debauchery from the world.
I know better:
why can not I resist a thing
so common as Envy
for something so right for someone else?
Unless of course I'm right,
and it's totally, completely wrong....
"My empty-hearted star, my love!"
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Special: Orotund (For Quotidian)
Last night, you laid with me.
Your wilting life respired in my arms,
I held your loveliness,
your whispered my name.
How I wish that when we woke
it was still my name you whispered--
that my hands could know your being,
that I could taste our moon upon your lips.
There is a decadence to Seduction,
that rich crescendo of servility--
rare is the common man to know the sweetness of that song;
so rich with promise.
Our youth was in the swing and rise of starlight,
embodied by the phases from our secret-keeper, moon
who boldly held his white lips closed
when we met, forbidden-drink, beside the boughs of Oak.
Our youth died with the taste of the moon,
so I cannot lie to say I've loved you:
You know as well as I that we are no longer young,
no longer hungry for something as common as living.
These days, my common soul has common troubles;
my empty mind dwelling towards
the obligation due to dull employ,
the youthful death of lust for life,
one I promised you, long ago, before I knew its worth.
No longer can I dwell in the lie of that sweet rebellion,
no longer can I run my fingers through the summer grass, your smooth hair:
Enriching Summer love, is not for everyone's like me;
damn my empty promises!
Still.... to have spent my meager purse upon your young desire,
merely for the feeling when you smiled, merely to feel the joy in my heart
is something I will miss, from youth-strung Summers
Summers when you lay in my arms.
These days, occasionally
my dry, cracked lips whisper your name before I drink it down
(with bread and water, not the fine wine and meat I promised, again with my lies!)
and then I remember:
you didn't exist.
Not even for a little bit,
not even at all!
Your wilting life respired in my arms,
I held your loveliness,
your whispered my name.
How I wish that when we woke
it was still my name you whispered--
that my hands could know your being,
that I could taste our moon upon your lips.
There is a decadence to Seduction,
that rich crescendo of servility--
rare is the common man to know the sweetness of that song;
so rich with promise.
Our youth was in the swing and rise of starlight,
embodied by the phases from our secret-keeper, moon
who boldly held his white lips closed
when we met, forbidden-drink, beside the boughs of Oak.
Our youth died with the taste of the moon,
so I cannot lie to say I've loved you:
You know as well as I that we are no longer young,
no longer hungry for something as common as living.
These days, my common soul has common troubles;
my empty mind dwelling towards
the obligation due to dull employ,
the youthful death of lust for life,
one I promised you, long ago, before I knew its worth.
No longer can I dwell in the lie of that sweet rebellion,
no longer can I run my fingers through the summer grass, your smooth hair:
Enriching Summer love, is not for everyone's like me;
damn my empty promises!
Still.... to have spent my meager purse upon your young desire,
merely for the feeling when you smiled, merely to feel the joy in my heart
is something I will miss, from youth-strung Summers
Summers when you lay in my arms.
These days, occasionally
my dry, cracked lips whisper your name before I drink it down
(with bread and water, not the fine wine and meat I promised, again with my lies!)
and then I remember:
you didn't exist.
Not even for a little bit,
not even at all!
Special: "The Cinderella Service"
Yesterday, I was talking to Jess' beautiful mother--did I mention Jess seems to really like me? Pft. If all I need to do is clean to make new friends, I'll have an army in no time--and she decided I should have a forty-five-dollar-an-hour cleaning service. She's thinking something titled "Payton XTREME Cleaning(!!) She'll EXTREME Clean your kitchen(!!)", whereas I'm thinking more, "The Cinderella service: for the period AFTER the ball" type of thing.... but sweet. Very sweet. And I don't think I'll charge forty-five, either. I'll give twenty.. ten! Ten per hour, and charge an extra hug and friendship for life advice.
If I ever clean to work my board, it will be to love new people....
Katie offered to me to be her roommate if I get a stable job (and presumably a car) in the foreseeable future. My mind was boggled with the possibility of this.... starting to look at jobs today, including at Fireside, Walmart, Kmart.... anything but fast food unless if it's a privately owned business. I know it's odd to have standards to look at a job, but even minimum wage is three hundred odd dollars a month for two nights a week.... with my five hundred and ten dollar total from Graduation gifts, it'll do me right. As for driving... with Monahan dead, I have no idea what to do. A lot of that graduation money might go to me, taking that class again just to prove I can pass the test AGAIN, and signing up for triple AAA. Fine, all right, three hundred dollars.... but I need to drive, I need a car, I need a job.
I can't lollygag this summer away as I have the ones before it. This summer, I strive to accomplish purpose.... and possibly a roommate. Possibly moving out. Yes, it's far-flung, Katie could choose, for her roommates, a dozen people from that pool.... still. It's a dream worth working for. I can adopt Katie as my Pseudo-daughter, like I've adopted Hannah, if only in very rare ways like keeping house and buckling on the school stuff once in awhile. Maternal....
I like feeling like a mother. I feel like that when I'm with Hannah, because she looks up to me (which is extremely odd but evidently plausible).
So today, I'm looking at job applications. I feel like the job is the most achieveable of the three.
To be honest... I'm not sure if I want to go to school right away until those things are done. I don't want any more education with my parents. It's extremely wrong of me, I know, not to take advantage of the housing offered.... be that as it may, I am tired of being woken by children, whining to do to this or that. Tired of Pops hounding me for something I need to do or he'll be angry, tired of playing Switzerland for those two, tired of trying hard and then being shot down by my mother.
I don't like the person I am when I'm with them. I really don't. It'll get better over time, but right now?
I need to get out of here. And if I can live with someone like Katie.... so more the better.
God, please...
Can you metaphysically clean Cinderella's kitchen?
Love you.
Amen.
P.S. Cinderella--hmm.... I could grow to like that nickname...
If I ever clean to work my board, it will be to love new people....
Katie offered to me to be her roommate if I get a stable job (and presumably a car) in the foreseeable future. My mind was boggled with the possibility of this.... starting to look at jobs today, including at Fireside, Walmart, Kmart.... anything but fast food unless if it's a privately owned business. I know it's odd to have standards to look at a job, but even minimum wage is three hundred odd dollars a month for two nights a week.... with my five hundred and ten dollar total from Graduation gifts, it'll do me right. As for driving... with Monahan dead, I have no idea what to do. A lot of that graduation money might go to me, taking that class again just to prove I can pass the test AGAIN, and signing up for triple AAA. Fine, all right, three hundred dollars.... but I need to drive, I need a car, I need a job.
I can't lollygag this summer away as I have the ones before it. This summer, I strive to accomplish purpose.... and possibly a roommate. Possibly moving out. Yes, it's far-flung, Katie could choose, for her roommates, a dozen people from that pool.... still. It's a dream worth working for. I can adopt Katie as my Pseudo-daughter, like I've adopted Hannah, if only in very rare ways like keeping house and buckling on the school stuff once in awhile. Maternal....
I like feeling like a mother. I feel like that when I'm with Hannah, because she looks up to me (which is extremely odd but evidently plausible).
So today, I'm looking at job applications. I feel like the job is the most achieveable of the three.
To be honest... I'm not sure if I want to go to school right away until those things are done. I don't want any more education with my parents. It's extremely wrong of me, I know, not to take advantage of the housing offered.... be that as it may, I am tired of being woken by children, whining to do to this or that. Tired of Pops hounding me for something I need to do or he'll be angry, tired of playing Switzerland for those two, tired of trying hard and then being shot down by my mother.
I don't like the person I am when I'm with them. I really don't. It'll get better over time, but right now?
I need to get out of here. And if I can live with someone like Katie.... so more the better.
God, please...
Can you metaphysically clean Cinderella's kitchen?
Love you.
Amen.
P.S. Cinderella--hmm.... I could grow to like that nickname...
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Special: a new heart to thank
Today, I'm thanking the reason that Katie's eyes have seen Manipulation where it lay.
Today, I am thanking this blond-haired kindling that reawakened the old songs of thunder and rain in my friend's heart,
the one who gave reason to the happiness to point of singing,
the person who gave my Katie the song of Ralnok, the heart song, in the deepest reaches of what I couldn't heal alone.
So simple, your pretty eyes and shyness, so like what I was before I met my friend, and so much happiness have you made in so short a time!
So much hope....
A new heart, not mine, but I will still protect,
I will still defend, still honor
a new friend....
Today, I am thanking this blond-haired kindling that reawakened the old songs of thunder and rain in my friend's heart,
the one who gave reason to the happiness to point of singing,
the person who gave my Katie the song of Ralnok, the heart song, in the deepest reaches of what I couldn't heal alone.
So simple, your pretty eyes and shyness, so like what I was before I met my friend, and so much happiness have you made in so short a time!
So much hope....
A new heart, not mine, but I will still protect,
I will still defend, still honor
a new friend....
Friday, June 10, 2011
Special: Summer (for Quotidian, work on this one!!)
Summer nights taunt us, with their sweetness and their freedom;
in the winter, are not we hungry for the hot and humid air?
Hot and humid air,
that hangs like dust and makes us cough!
When our hearts freeze up with frosting grass and covered pools,
We all dream, emptily,
of a heat so fierce that we
want cold water,
perspiration dripping from the liquid clear,
contained by glass with sunlight dripping
from the sides to fertile earth.
In the Summer time, we like to be poetic
say that the heat causes our will to be insane
to watch the blades of a fan on the ceiling rather than go for that walk we've been promising
to watch a documentary on parrots rather than read the book we've borrowed
to run through a park to touch a butterfly, rather than take that car-ride to malls,
is the fulfilling emptiness, of Summer...
in the winter, are not we hungry for the hot and humid air?
Hot and humid air,
that hangs like dust and makes us cough!
When our hearts freeze up with frosting grass and covered pools,
We all dream, emptily,
of a heat so fierce that we
want cold water,
perspiration dripping from the liquid clear,
contained by glass with sunlight dripping
from the sides to fertile earth.
In the Summer time, we like to be poetic
say that the heat causes our will to be insane
to watch the blades of a fan on the ceiling rather than go for that walk we've been promising
to watch a documentary on parrots rather than read the book we've borrowed
to run through a park to touch a butterfly, rather than take that car-ride to malls,
is the fulfilling emptiness, of Summer...
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Special: Black, black wings for a black, black night
So today, we worked on the scrap-book for Schultz. At least, those few loyal enough to show, those few un-arrogant enough to believe that they belonged among the ranks of those who love her for the miracle she is.... my facebook friend, Schultz.
My page has a hand-drawn fortuneteller (in the proper costume, of course). There's a sun, patterned with a Celtic design. Sprigs of herbs hang from the wall, surrounded by lanterns, fine glass, and buttons of three shades of green. In typed and printed letters, there are two things written: a fae blessing (the sunlight one from my gmail and Rath and Ruins), and a verse from Heart Song.
We worked at Hannah Nathan's house. There's a sweetness to the Nathan, a simple beauty I deeply admire and even envy. She's a deeply ''go with the flow'' type of person. So when I invited her over for guitar hero and bones and fun, she agreed, and I was pretty over the moon about it. She and I were talking about fantasy and romance and Wicked Lovely and Tithe and Ironside, Valiant, a Countess below stairs...
Per result, the wild streak in me woke up, right and proper quick--and I used double negatives, and I walked with that wicked, wild grace of those reckless DnD nymphs, and I felt beautiful. Wild--free--beautiful.
And Hannah invited us to go flocking. I agreed with a grin to change from my blue dress, changing into white shorts and a black top--and also, my wolf necklace....
And wings.
Black wings.
Mine.
They cavorted as I moved, twitching at the air as though to prick it into servility, and I grabbed my Schuster's hat and jammed it on my warm yellow hair....
And you see, this is the difference between people like my theatre family--my dear, dear Hannah--and my family.
Juliette said, "Payton, what the fuck are you wearing?"
And Hannah said, "Do you have another cloak?"
Yes, Hannah. I have three cloaks and four more hats.
I raced into my room, grabbing the black cloak made of spiderwebs, and a red one for Juliette that sparkled like Riding hood's promise.
So adorned, the three of us crammed illegally into Hannah's car--Juliette on my lap, Hannah driving, Flamingos enjoying the sexy faerie in the front--and we drove around, got lost, swapped ghost stories that ended in much clown laughter and general real laughs from my friend and my cousin.
I was happy. I was wild, and lovely, and happy. When I put in that letter reading that we'd flocked those two houses, I bowed the Eliac bow.
There was a bounce in my step like I were magic, and I wasn't...
"Payton doesn't live in the world we do... she lives in her own, which is way, way better than ours."
"Would you stop pinching my ass cheeks with your thighs!"
"Fuck your ducks."
"I love this cape! I've never worn one before {It's a cloak.} --Cloak, whatever! I like it. It's swishy. "
I was happy. I am happy. I have.... two friends! Katie AND Hannah! Both reasonably happy! Both happy with a Wild Payton.
I don't know if I can count Kate.... or even if she wants me to. I picked out my present for her, though. Hope she's fond of Peacocks....
I am wearing those wings with my strap-fall dress, the red one, at the next opportunity. I might even get some fake extensions in my hair for the occasion from hot topic or something....
Those wings.... Made me feel.... !
I don't know. I don't know what I felt.
But I was.... alive..... again!
Those silly, drooping wings....
My page has a hand-drawn fortuneteller (in the proper costume, of course). There's a sun, patterned with a Celtic design. Sprigs of herbs hang from the wall, surrounded by lanterns, fine glass, and buttons of three shades of green. In typed and printed letters, there are two things written: a fae blessing (the sunlight one from my gmail and Rath and Ruins), and a verse from Heart Song.
We worked at Hannah Nathan's house. There's a sweetness to the Nathan, a simple beauty I deeply admire and even envy. She's a deeply ''go with the flow'' type of person. So when I invited her over for guitar hero and bones and fun, she agreed, and I was pretty over the moon about it. She and I were talking about fantasy and romance and Wicked Lovely and Tithe and Ironside, Valiant, a Countess below stairs...
Per result, the wild streak in me woke up, right and proper quick--and I used double negatives, and I walked with that wicked, wild grace of those reckless DnD nymphs, and I felt beautiful. Wild--free--beautiful.
And Hannah invited us to go flocking. I agreed with a grin to change from my blue dress, changing into white shorts and a black top--and also, my wolf necklace....
And wings.
Black wings.
Mine.
They cavorted as I moved, twitching at the air as though to prick it into servility, and I grabbed my Schuster's hat and jammed it on my warm yellow hair....
And you see, this is the difference between people like my theatre family--my dear, dear Hannah--and my family.
Juliette said, "Payton, what the fuck are you wearing?"
And Hannah said, "Do you have another cloak?"
Yes, Hannah. I have three cloaks and four more hats.
I raced into my room, grabbing the black cloak made of spiderwebs, and a red one for Juliette that sparkled like Riding hood's promise.
So adorned, the three of us crammed illegally into Hannah's car--Juliette on my lap, Hannah driving, Flamingos enjoying the sexy faerie in the front--and we drove around, got lost, swapped ghost stories that ended in much clown laughter and general real laughs from my friend and my cousin.
I was happy. I was wild, and lovely, and happy. When I put in that letter reading that we'd flocked those two houses, I bowed the Eliac bow.
There was a bounce in my step like I were magic, and I wasn't...
"Payton doesn't live in the world we do... she lives in her own, which is way, way better than ours."
"Would you stop pinching my ass cheeks with your thighs!"
"Fuck your ducks."
"I love this cape! I've never worn one before {It's a cloak.} --Cloak, whatever! I like it. It's swishy. "
I was happy. I am happy. I have.... two friends! Katie AND Hannah! Both reasonably happy! Both happy with a Wild Payton.
I don't know if I can count Kate.... or even if she wants me to. I picked out my present for her, though. Hope she's fond of Peacocks....
I am wearing those wings with my strap-fall dress, the red one, at the next opportunity. I might even get some fake extensions in my hair for the occasion from hot topic or something....
Those wings.... Made me feel.... !
I don't know. I don't know what I felt.
But I was.... alive..... again!
Those silly, drooping wings....
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Special: Payton, I have nothing to do!
People who complain about being bored should answer their phones when I call and answer my texts when I message. If you have plans and answer, we're seriously a hundred percent fine; if you're that guy who masturbates to the sound of a ringing phone, you're a sick fuck and I'm not calling you anymore.
A whole bunch of people canceled on the mini-party I had planned for my cousin. A whole bunch, for no good reason. I'm upset about that. If they had told me they had stuff to do, fine. It's okay. I don't mind you having a life.
But still... you put my family through that rejection. That is not deserving of loyalty; if you say I'd owe it still, then what sort of loyalty do you think you are entitled to?
Got my hair cut today, and more of the dye washed from it. The woman (Karianne) insisted on highlights after; since the cut was a gift anyway, I accepted--and it looks... warm. I feel pretty; but I've lost this wild mane of mine. I miss it, I keep reaching for hair that isn't there. I'll grow it out again; I want my mane back.... but it's a pretty color. I'm keeping this color.
I feel pretty. I'm not used to feeling... pretty.
Katie, you left those mirrored sunglasses at my house for our disappointing-on-my-end socialization. I'll give them to you next I see you since you didn't come back tonight.
Last night, Finley stayed over. He held me in our bed and sighed into my mane (he hasn't seen the new cut yet) and said, "I love you, Payton."
Somehow even those simple words mean something to me. In ways I can't understand. In ways I fear understanding.
My heart wants to sing tonight. It wants to sing to the world like it used to, and I won't let it... not when there's a giant calender hanging over my head. Not when I want to kill people from the nervous anger I'm soaking up from these seniors everywhere and there's thunder shaking my house. So here's a different song, one of the idea from Spoon River Anthology. Like, not my life, but someone's life.... maybe I'll do more of these soon.
Last night, I dreamt of you.
Your wilting life respired in my arms:
while my hands knew your decadent warmth;
you whispered my name.
I wanted that name to be mine.
More than anything else, my fingers are hungry for our forbidden romance;
the nuances of simple speech, revealed
I want to taste the glimmer of our moon upon your lips.
I want to unravel the knowings from Time.
Be in my heart, beneath my hands
let our dreams take us to far away lands.
I am not a fairy tale, and you are not forever
but we are imperfection at its finest
and our mediocrity will taste of mortal passion
when my lips hunger for a taste of our moon.
Taste me;
I am the shadows of the sun
the water beneath the ice,
the brimstone in the fire:
For me to endure,
you must whisper my name...
Taste me, taste me,
touch me...
trust me.
A whole bunch of people canceled on the mini-party I had planned for my cousin. A whole bunch, for no good reason. I'm upset about that. If they had told me they had stuff to do, fine. It's okay. I don't mind you having a life.
But still... you put my family through that rejection. That is not deserving of loyalty; if you say I'd owe it still, then what sort of loyalty do you think you are entitled to?
Got my hair cut today, and more of the dye washed from it. The woman (Karianne) insisted on highlights after; since the cut was a gift anyway, I accepted--and it looks... warm. I feel pretty; but I've lost this wild mane of mine. I miss it, I keep reaching for hair that isn't there. I'll grow it out again; I want my mane back.... but it's a pretty color. I'm keeping this color.
I feel pretty. I'm not used to feeling... pretty.
Katie, you left those mirrored sunglasses at my house for our disappointing-on-my-end socialization. I'll give them to you next I see you since you didn't come back tonight.
Last night, Finley stayed over. He held me in our bed and sighed into my mane (he hasn't seen the new cut yet) and said, "I love you, Payton."
Somehow even those simple words mean something to me. In ways I can't understand. In ways I fear understanding.
My heart wants to sing tonight. It wants to sing to the world like it used to, and I won't let it... not when there's a giant calender hanging over my head. Not when I want to kill people from the nervous anger I'm soaking up from these seniors everywhere and there's thunder shaking my house. So here's a different song, one of the idea from Spoon River Anthology. Like, not my life, but someone's life.... maybe I'll do more of these soon.
Last night, I dreamt of you.
Your wilting life respired in my arms:
while my hands knew your decadent warmth;
you whispered my name.
I wanted that name to be mine.
More than anything else, my fingers are hungry for our forbidden romance;
the nuances of simple speech, revealed
I want to taste the glimmer of our moon upon your lips.
I want to unravel the knowings from Time.
Be in my heart, beneath my hands
let our dreams take us to far away lands.
I am not a fairy tale, and you are not forever
but we are imperfection at its finest
and our mediocrity will taste of mortal passion
when my lips hunger for a taste of our moon.
Taste me;
I am the shadows of the sun
the water beneath the ice,
the brimstone in the fire:
For me to endure,
you must whisper my name...
Taste me, taste me,
touch me...
trust me.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Special: this didn't happen
In Study Hall, I had a dream.
I was beautiful and thin and lovely; my hair was silver, my ears had a point, I was wearing clothing made of sunshine.
I was walking the high school halls, and Kate walked by, with a blonde-haired friend of hers I'd glimpsed before, and I said, "I will talk to you."
I meant it as an order, and Kate listened to the Eliac-me. She walked with me to a back door, one without cameras.
"What is it?" She asked me, "who are you?"
"Like you've ever known or cared," I replied, running a straw through my long, fronded fingers, "Like you'd believe me if I told you. You know what I love about the Roses, Kate?"
She stared at me, blinking, pulse racing a little faster. "You're... you're one of Payton's Roses?" she stuttered, still stubborn, "...you?"
I lifted my hand and she flew into the wall, not hard, just a shove, and she backed into it a little, like to stay away from me.
"Lesson one of the Roses," dream-me said in that sweet, sweet voice, "Believe in Magic, Katherine Murley. Then, that knowledge is common sense, to me."
She stared, gaping. "W-what?" She gasped, "but no--I mean, it can't--"
"Perhaps the common sense part is your fear," dream-me continued. "You should always have been afraid of me."
Suddenly I'm just Payton again, and she's still there, looking at me.
"Good-bye, Kate," I said.
The bell rang.
I was beautiful and thin and lovely; my hair was silver, my ears had a point, I was wearing clothing made of sunshine.
I was walking the high school halls, and Kate walked by, with a blonde-haired friend of hers I'd glimpsed before, and I said, "I will talk to you."
I meant it as an order, and Kate listened to the Eliac-me. She walked with me to a back door, one without cameras.
"What is it?" She asked me, "who are you?"
"Like you've ever known or cared," I replied, running a straw through my long, fronded fingers, "Like you'd believe me if I told you. You know what I love about the Roses, Kate?"
She stared at me, blinking, pulse racing a little faster. "You're... you're one of Payton's Roses?" she stuttered, still stubborn, "...you?"
I lifted my hand and she flew into the wall, not hard, just a shove, and she backed into it a little, like to stay away from me.
"Lesson one of the Roses," dream-me said in that sweet, sweet voice, "Believe in Magic, Katherine Murley. Then, that knowledge is common sense, to me."
She stared, gaping. "W-what?" She gasped, "but no--I mean, it can't--"
"Perhaps the common sense part is your fear," dream-me continued. "You should always have been afraid of me."
Suddenly I'm just Payton again, and she's still there, looking at me.
"Good-bye, Kate," I said.
The bell rang.
Special: Payton's heavens (Day and Night)
"Heart song
you are my heart song
you are the sun,
you are the moon--!"
I’d like to write about my heart tonight
You see we’re in love, my heart and I.
I love you, my dearest sun-flower eyes
I love your melting smile, the reaches of a man’s proffered heart
I love the eternal summer of your stars, telling me to stop my path; that you are there
I love your chivalry
I love your stubbornness
I love the way you waltz with me, my prim and proper gentleman
I love the way you’re white Rhianna when you fling your elbows with Sarah Friedl
I love the way you sigh when we do math, because you're clever;
I love the way we sing loudly in your car
I love the way you threaten the fools who strike my heart;
I love the way you threaten when I'd to bring myself to them (those fools), except for one
I love the way you hold me up,
I love the way that you protect
You will never leave me, husband
You are eternally precious, my ‘wife’ :p
I love you for playing that base so grimly, my Finley; your eyes pucker for that music
I love when sun-half gets excited about playing as Master hand
I love it when moon-half make me whole
I love it when you build things, ho, and I can do your dishes
I love when you’re a bird, Finley
I love it when you giggle about Elephants, Katie
When I hear of Papageno or Pamina, Jose and Micaela, Rachmanoff, I think of you, my Finley, love
When my heart sings Glee or P!nk, we both know whose fault it is
I love it when you tickle me, just because you’re there
I love it when you play guitar and swear when you don’t get it right
Both of your eyes light up when I sing, did you know that?
Finley, I love it when you get jealous of Johnny
Katie, I love it when I boggle your mind
I love that you read Wicked Lovely,
I laugh when you put corn against my pale skin
I love you, half
I love you, half
And you are my reason for being--
Both of you.
I just wanted to take this time to write that I appreciate you;
That between my husband and my closest friend,
I am full and happy.
You make me happy all the time that I draw breath,
The other makes it twice as likely.
One gave me a ring,
The other, themselves
And I love you both, so much
And I will not forget….
I appreciate
YOU.
I appreciate…
MY HEART.
You both... are my heart.
you are my heart song
you are the sun,
you are the moon--!"
I’d like to write about my heart tonight
You see we’re in love, my heart and I.
I love you, my dearest sun-flower eyes
I love your melting smile, the reaches of a man’s proffered heart
I love the eternal summer of your stars, telling me to stop my path; that you are there
I love your chivalry
I love your stubbornness
I love the way you waltz with me, my prim and proper gentleman
I love the way you’re white Rhianna when you fling your elbows with Sarah Friedl
I love the way you sigh when we do math, because you're clever;
I love the way we sing loudly in your car
I love the way you threaten the fools who strike my heart;
I love the way you threaten when I'd to bring myself to them (those fools), except for one
I love the way you hold me up,
I love the way that you protect
You will never leave me, husband
You are eternally precious, my ‘wife’ :p
I love you for playing that base so grimly, my Finley; your eyes pucker for that music
I love when sun-half gets excited about playing as Master hand
I love it when moon-half make me whole
I love it when you build things, ho, and I can do your dishes
I love when you’re a bird, Finley
I love it when you giggle about Elephants, Katie
When I hear of Papageno or Pamina, Jose and Micaela, Rachmanoff, I think of you, my Finley, love
When my heart sings Glee or P!nk, we both know whose fault it is
I love it when you tickle me, just because you’re there
I love it when you play guitar and swear when you don’t get it right
Both of your eyes light up when I sing, did you know that?
Finley, I love it when you get jealous of Johnny
Katie, I love it when I boggle your mind
I love that you read Wicked Lovely,
I laugh when you put corn against my pale skin
I love you, half
I love you, half
And you are my reason for being--
Both of you.
I just wanted to take this time to write that I appreciate you;
That between my husband and my closest friend,
I am full and happy.
You make me happy all the time that I draw breath,
The other makes it twice as likely.
One gave me a ring,
The other, themselves
And I love you both, so much
And I will not forget….
I appreciate
YOU.
I appreciate…
MY HEART.
You both... are my heart.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Special
I didn't lose Katie (thank God, thank Him, Thank Him!!!), but I sure lost Kate.
And for the first time, it's occurring to me that that's her loss. Because I could help her if she trusted me... and she doesn't want to. Even though I sense her secrets and know what she needs and wants from life, she won't tell me so I can pretend to find out and advise what I've been thinking about for months.
That said, those two aren't my problem. They're my friends, and I want to help them. Loving someone enough to help them does not make friendship a burden. If either of them made the implication, I'd be insulted.
That said, even though you don't read this and don't give a flying fuck, I knew you from the first breath you took with me in the room. I've known you all along for feeling.
Get used to it; 'Cuz I'm not leaving.
And Katie and I are still friends.
I know your secret.
And for the first time, it's occurring to me that that's her loss. Because I could help her if she trusted me... and she doesn't want to. Even though I sense her secrets and know what she needs and wants from life, she won't tell me so I can pretend to find out and advise what I've been thinking about for months.
That said, those two aren't my problem. They're my friends, and I want to help them. Loving someone enough to help them does not make friendship a burden. If either of them made the implication, I'd be insulted.
That said, even though you don't read this and don't give a flying fuck, I knew you from the first breath you took with me in the room. I've known you all along for feeling.
Get used to it; 'Cuz I'm not leaving.
And Katie and I are still friends.
I know your secret.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Special: Anthem
This will be my anthem.
This will be my fire-cry.
This will be my broken-heart
this will be my do-or-die.
You're leaving me.
I know you are.
She doesn't need me and you won't have me
and now I have to go.
I want to kick and scream
but I don't have the will to fight you,
never have and never will.
I was so happy until this all happened,
and you hurt me---
you did!
It hurts, and you two did it
give yourselves a pat on the back for letting me feel both of you at once
plus all the people at JDP
congratulations, you've broken my heart;
you've torn down my hopes and my dreams for a future.
It's only my Finley again.
I love you....
Please don't make me go.
This will be my fire-cry.
This will be my broken-heart
this will be my do-or-die.
You're leaving me.
I know you are.
She doesn't need me and you won't have me
and now I have to go.
I want to kick and scream
but I don't have the will to fight you,
never have and never will.
I was so happy until this all happened,
and you hurt me---
you did!
It hurts, and you two did it
give yourselves a pat on the back for letting me feel both of you at once
plus all the people at JDP
congratulations, you've broken my heart;
you've torn down my hopes and my dreams for a future.
It's only my Finley again.
I love you....
Please don't make me go.
Friday, June 3, 2011
Special: a laughing day
This morning was horrible, but I'm surrounded by people that love me, and that makes life worth living.
A lifted ban from the writing lab
An invitation to Jazz Dip, entirely initiated by Kate Murley, my friend
Gift ideas
A well-decorated Haunted Carnival cover
Girl noises.
Mermaid=flipper babies.
Cold corn.
Are you ticklish, Brad?
No dishes to do, apartment tomorrow
Laughing, laughing...
A water gun.
More laughing.... hours spent in a lazy, perfect happiness....
And then Halo.
Zombies
Super high
How did you get up--WHAT THE FUCK!?
A McDonald's snack wrap.
A smile.
Love.
A lifted ban from the writing lab
An invitation to Jazz Dip, entirely initiated by Kate Murley, my friend
Gift ideas
A well-decorated Haunted Carnival cover
Girl noises.
Mermaid=flipper babies.
Cold corn.
Are you ticklish, Brad?
No dishes to do, apartment tomorrow
Laughing, laughing...
A water gun.
More laughing.... hours spent in a lazy, perfect happiness....
And then Halo.
Zombies
Super high
How did you get up--WHAT THE FUCK!?
A McDonald's snack wrap.
A smile.
Love.
Special: selling the house
I stayed up late helping my mom. Real late, 'till well after two-thirty: long after the other kids, I was working. I was doing things that needed to be done. Mom stayed up much later, all the way until four a.m. It's not that our house is destroyed, it's just that mom wants it absolutely perfect. Her standards--unlike normally--are very high for a showing. Why show anyone anything but the best of your house? I guess that makes sense.
This morning, my mom wasn't happy. By 'wasn't happy,' what I really mean was livid. She listed a fault of everything I'd worked for the previous night (into the morning), she snarled how exhausted she was, did we think this was a joke, why were we fucking with her life, ruining everybody's life, and so on, getting louder and more angry all the time; especially since Taylor continued to be so obnoxiously loud-mouthed. I tried to get her to quiet down, 'cuz that's what you oughta do when your momma starts to get angry; she needs to vent it out. If she can't, she'll chuck a whisky bottle at you, like Emmie Hubbard in A Northern light.
So when Taylor wouldn't shut it, mom started screaming, pounding the frail hands against the car.
There were no words to it.... it was just a scream, an ear-splattering blat of anger, just in case we missed it, just in case we could ever have mistaken that she was, in some way, proud of us; in case we'd believed the illusion that it was just stress from her multitde of life-tasks. No, no such kindness from my mother. My mom made sure to impress that her destroyed life was our fault. If we didn't like that very obvious fact, well, "after June 12th, I [she] didn't care what [we] you do, you[we] can get the flying fuck out for all I [she] cared."
I feel like my mom doesn't want me, that if I--the spectacular evidence of the fuck-up that was her first marriage--wasn't around; well, her life would be great. Just in case I didn't feel useless, just in case you've forgotten that I'm a fucking freak, I could feel what my mother felt.
I could feel what my mother felt.
Moreover, I absorbed as much of it as I could, with no thoughts to my own self-regard. I feel sick with that now, especially since that emotion is smothered by my mother's hate and my own love.... my poor, poor endless love, churning around inside me like a river in a hurricane. More than anything else right now, I don't wnat to be alone.
She's kicking Taylor out, if I don't get my act together, me, too. At least, she said that...
Welcome to school, Payton.
I couldn't get to Finley, though he's at school; I couldn't get to Katie....
So I found Kate. I lent her a pen, but she didn't ask about me. After all, who wouldn't be preoccupied at a graduation rehearsal? Kellie Grob managed to notice th tears tearing the gold on my eye lids; Lauren, too.
...But all I wanted was my friend....
I don't want to be alone.
Tell me she was wrong, world.
Anybody?
Everybody?
.....Please?
This morning, my mom wasn't happy. By 'wasn't happy,' what I really mean was livid. She listed a fault of everything I'd worked for the previous night (into the morning), she snarled how exhausted she was, did we think this was a joke, why were we fucking with her life, ruining everybody's life, and so on, getting louder and more angry all the time; especially since Taylor continued to be so obnoxiously loud-mouthed. I tried to get her to quiet down, 'cuz that's what you oughta do when your momma starts to get angry; she needs to vent it out. If she can't, she'll chuck a whisky bottle at you, like Emmie Hubbard in A Northern light.
So when Taylor wouldn't shut it, mom started screaming, pounding the frail hands against the car.
There were no words to it.... it was just a scream, an ear-splattering blat of anger, just in case we missed it, just in case we could ever have mistaken that she was, in some way, proud of us; in case we'd believed the illusion that it was just stress from her multitde of life-tasks. No, no such kindness from my mother. My mom made sure to impress that her destroyed life was our fault. If we didn't like that very obvious fact, well, "after June 12th, I [she] didn't care what [we] you do, you[we] can get the flying fuck out for all I [she] cared."
I feel like my mom doesn't want me, that if I--the spectacular evidence of the fuck-up that was her first marriage--wasn't around; well, her life would be great. Just in case I didn't feel useless, just in case you've forgotten that I'm a fucking freak, I could feel what my mother felt.
I could feel what my mother felt.
Moreover, I absorbed as much of it as I could, with no thoughts to my own self-regard. I feel sick with that now, especially since that emotion is smothered by my mother's hate and my own love.... my poor, poor endless love, churning around inside me like a river in a hurricane. More than anything else right now, I don't wnat to be alone.
She's kicking Taylor out, if I don't get my act together, me, too. At least, she said that...
Welcome to school, Payton.
I couldn't get to Finley, though he's at school; I couldn't get to Katie....
So I found Kate. I lent her a pen, but she didn't ask about me. After all, who wouldn't be preoccupied at a graduation rehearsal? Kellie Grob managed to notice th tears tearing the gold on my eye lids; Lauren, too.
...But all I wanted was my friend....
I don't want to be alone.
Tell me she was wrong, world.
Anybody?
Everybody?
.....Please?
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Special: a ditty on Racism, Elvish slang
Hatwë ävéhú oúyën oneda ótén émen?
Hywen ódën Iën ëelfï ícela histë, órfën óúyén?
Hywen odén Iën réämdä fóen issingcé oúyen, óldinghó oúyen--
otnën órfén nyaen thëroth ëasónrí
hánté otën acemë ouyén mílësa nïen appinésshí?
Mílingsí,
táén emen?
Hywén óesdë véneth heten iniëstta ïtbén fóen oúryá ráísépá
íghtla ymén ëárthó ícélä óúryë unsen-lówérfë yeseth
aúsëcó emen ótën ávehä únlightsë nién heten éépestdí óréca fóën ínëmë
nëoen óúyën'ëven ïvéngó ëmen ótën ëélfá órfén.
Hywën sïen tíën, hénwí óúyën tumblesé hróúghtï hëtën ärcdá
henwá óuyen acétï órëmé dvantageath foen ymen ffërsoth hántä nyäën thëróth
odën Ién óntinúecé otén fféroth hëmtë?
Hywén óden Ien istënlá ótën oúrya rocenbé ëärthú henwá Ïën ëelfä tien,
orfén isteninglú?
Hywén mäén Íën ntirelyeth áppyhá ndaén ítlën ndaen ómplëtecë,
icelë Íën máen ithwí Ínleyfä,
hënwï Ïén eelfú óúryë eadhó ponuth ymen hoúldersa?
Ouryá ándhá oïncidëntallycá gäínstáth ymén accbë?
Óúryï rmsáth óldïnghë émen hënwa Íen rócëbë eforebï óuyen?
Íén óvéló ouyen.
Tïën'sën ósén ängeroúsdë, oten óvëlï otnen neóen, útben wotén icélú hïstä...
Ódgén, Ién uccingfë ovélï érhen....
Osen úchmó.
Ïén'éven eenbë hincingté...
Ién'men fráídath órfën tíen.
Special: simple
Yesterday, Katie and I went to band Practice. Before practice, she escaped from the church; we walked to her apartment and got into her car and the sun was warm and it seeped inside me like it were Everything, and the wind attacked my hair, and Katie was listening to Head over Feet.
Her eyes were really beautiful that day. I noticed that, she seemed bright as the sun I was swallowing and my heart brandished that glow....
We didn't have a lot to say, but we drove around in that red Chevy Cobalt, and the moment was perfect. Happy. Simple.
Safe.
"I had no choice but to hear you
You stated your case time and again
I thought about it
You treat me like I'm a princess
I'm not used to liking that
You ask how my day was
You've already won me over in spite of me
And don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet
Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are
I couldn't help it
It's all your fault
Your love is thick and it swallowed me whole
You're so much braver than I gave you credit for
That's not lip service
You've already won me over in spite of me
And don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet
Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are
I couldn't help it
It's all your fault
You are the bearer of unconditional things
You held your breath and the door for me
Thanks for your patience
You're the best listener that I've ever met
You're my best friend
Best friend with benefits
What took me so long
I've never felt this healthy before
I've never wanted something rational
I am aware now
I am aware now
You've already won me over in spite of me
And don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet
Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are
I couldn't help it
It's all your fault..."
You picked 'My life would suck without you', but this fits us, too.
My best friend...
Her eyes were really beautiful that day. I noticed that, she seemed bright as the sun I was swallowing and my heart brandished that glow....
We didn't have a lot to say, but we drove around in that red Chevy Cobalt, and the moment was perfect. Happy. Simple.
Safe.
"I had no choice but to hear you
You stated your case time and again
I thought about it
You treat me like I'm a princess
I'm not used to liking that
You ask how my day was
You've already won me over in spite of me
And don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet
Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are
I couldn't help it
It's all your fault
Your love is thick and it swallowed me whole
You're so much braver than I gave you credit for
That's not lip service
You've already won me over in spite of me
And don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet
Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are
I couldn't help it
It's all your fault
You are the bearer of unconditional things
You held your breath and the door for me
Thanks for your patience
You're the best listener that I've ever met
You're my best friend
Best friend with benefits
What took me so long
I've never felt this healthy before
I've never wanted something rational
I am aware now
I am aware now
You've already won me over in spite of me
And don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet
Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are
I couldn't help it
It's all your fault..."
You picked 'My life would suck without you', but this fits us, too.
My best friend...
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Special
Sometimes, I wish that rather than a Super power of some kind--flight or reading minds or fire or water-bending--I could just bend hearts. I could pull peoples' hearts out from under them and have them like me, love me like I love them. Of course, the temptation would be to hurt them like they hurt me, realize they love me anyway, teach them a lesson.
Difference is, they'd leave me. I doubt my Superhero would be that prominent; superheroes rarely are.
That said? If I could give people the love that I give them, that they give me to feel for them, I would; without hesitation or even a blink, a glimpse of troubles. Let the world feel what I feel; I'm sure it's not unique, but it certainly isn't common enough by my reckoning.
Learn to love like I do....
Difference is, they'd leave me. I doubt my Superhero would be that prominent; superheroes rarely are.
That said? If I could give people the love that I give them, that they give me to feel for them, I would; without hesitation or even a blink, a glimpse of troubles. Let the world feel what I feel; I'm sure it's not unique, but it certainly isn't common enough by my reckoning.
Learn to love like I do....
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