March 2012
“But the moon came slowly up in all her gentle glory, and the stars looked out,...”
– Charles Dickens (via atramentum)
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I feel so restless and bored with everything. Nothing is ‘fun’ anymore. It’s as if i’m chasing after something, in the wrong direction, with a blind fold on. I’m so frightened. Unbelievably terrified…that I might be stuck..forced to feel this way forever. Completely lacking direction…lacking everything. If so, I will gladly top myself :)
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more light than ever filters into my room, with the blinds turning to dust where they should be held up, falling down, folding into one another. Even at night, the icy blue glow along the story bridge, splash in, up against my mirror, then across my blankets. I like it this way though, more and more as time rolls forward, i have come to a turning point, ready, perhaps, to stop hiding away in the...
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I think i slept. The darkness and the hush of the surf lulled me, and for a time i dreamed. Bright images.
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In the cold darkness, occasionally spat at by the passing headlight, I stare up at the ceiling. There are cigarettes burning downstairs and mouths are speaking and laughing, throwing harmless sounds up into the air, that’s what they do. Ha! one yells, It comes out bitter and harsh. I can feel them all around me, which is why I know that I’m more alone than ever. Being surrounded brings with it a...
i’ll never forget the day i killed myself
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these hours spent alone make the heart swell, not in pain, but in a lack of it.
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blood pushes through the pores across her cheeks, coming out like sweat and tears, but so much sweeter.
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In two years i will be gone, finally, and living in Switzerland. Maybe if I run a little further this time everything won’t follow along behind. It’s time to become shadowless i suppose.
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The sky cackles at us; louder than an ocean breaking on itself. I look down and up, so do you, and why shouldn’t we, we’re walking the tight rope with nooses around our necks. Though that hungry, rolling sky just keeps on laughing.
Ha, of course nature scoffs at us: we’re sand between its fingers, dirt beneath the rug. We are nature. We laugh at ourselves. And why...
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changes forced by desires, only to keep time sprawling, but the storm seems lost and i wonder if even it will be coming?
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winding through it all
towards a vanishing point, yet still…determined
ha, i laugh at the smell of my own weakness
but i forgive myself
for how could i not hate this skin when i know its secrets
a shiver creeps through me
and i’m standing
overlooking
two webs woven, each in the same pattern
and so it seems, time rolling forward only shields the moon more and more