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crazilsd_kitten

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if i didnt say it, id still of felt it..

now wheres the sense in that? </3

Created on 2003-08-06 16:02:47 (#1236350), last updated 2003-11-11

90 comments received, 84 comments posted

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127 Journal Entries, 0 Tags, 1 Memory, 0 Virtual Gifts, 2 Userpics

Basic Info

Name:	a silent whisper, going hush in my little lullaby
Birthdate:	04-11
Website:	the spaces between his fingers we meant for her, not me.

Bio

"I'm not afraid to be alive
I'm afraid to be alone"

"I am fairly agile
I can bend and not break
Or I can break and take it with a smile
And I am so resilient
I recover quickly
I'll convince you soon that I am fine"

"I look into eyes, I look into stone
it's better to be stepped on than left all alone...
so now I choke on yesterday when I was someone
and I wonder where 'forever' went
and how our 'everything' came undone
I opened my eyes and the heaven beneath us died."

"Every day seems the same to me
I sit around and think about how alone I feel
then I wind up rather enjoying loneliness because it's the comfort of being sad- sometimes it feels so right
and sometimes I'd like to be around no one for ten straight years
but I know this feeling can't bring me places
and I know I'm losing lots of ground
but to keep up means to get up and why does it have to be the world keeps on changing while I just stay the same?
I feel like being down doesn't mean enough to anyone anymore
and I guess the world has made emotion obsolete
and I don't think I feel the same 'cause after all who says what happy really means?
Tonight I will redefine everything and tomorrow I will start in on my better days
and so each their own definition of happiness
but no one ever reaches it so I don't think I'll breathe that way
but happiness is when there's nowhere left to go
because in that state of mind there is no state of self
so how was I supposed to know?"

"The last few months I have been living with this couple.
Yeah, you know, the kind that buy everything in doubles. They fit together, like a puzzle.
I love their love and I am thankful that someone actually receives the prize that was promised by all those fairy tales that drugged us.
And they still do me. I'm sick, lonely, no laurel tree, just green envy.
Will my number come up eventually? Like Love is some kind of lottery, where you can scratch and see what is underneath. It's "Sorry", just one cherry, "Play Again." Get lucky.
So I have been hanging out down by the train's depot. No, I don't ride. I just sit and watch the people there. They remind me of wind up cars in motion. The way they spin and turn and jockey for positions.
And I want to scream out that it is all nonsense.
And that their lives are one track, and can't they see how it is all pointless?
But then, my knees give under me. My head feels weak and suddenly it is clear to see that it is not them but me, who has lost my self-identity.
As I hide behind these books I read, while scribbling my poetry, like art could save a wretch like me, with some ideal ideology that no one can hope to achieve. And I am never real; it is just a sketch of me.
And everything I made is trite and cheap and a waste of paint, of tape, of time.
Sometimes I park my car down my the cathedral, where floodlights point up at the steeples.
Choir practice is filling up with people. I hear the sound escaping as an echo.
Sloping off the ceiling at an angle. When voices blend they sound like angels.
I hope there is still some room left in the middle.
But when I lift my voice up now to reach them. The range is too high, way up in heaven.
So I hold my tongue, forget the song, tie my shoe and start walking off.
And try to just keep moving on, with my broken heart and my absent God
and I have no faith but it is all I want, to be loved and believe in my soul."

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