Compose

I am home. I left early, yet again, and arrived late last night to a warm bed and familiar surroundings. The exhaustion that I felt made me want to write; to funnel my energy into paper for remembrance. I am obsessed with fragments, I always have been in my writing. I feel that what ever you write should reflect an inner soul and not seek to recreate, purposefully, the outside world around you. I sometimes break my writing up into two categories: the interior- where I let the soul transgress and whether abstract is a word or not is of little concern- and the exterior- where I use what I feel on the inside as a motivation to captivate my surroundings. Either way both need the other to survive. I did not write last night, I never write when the inspiration is there. Instead it comes randomly and is very fleeting. Most of the time I lose the thought before I can ever write it down. I suppose all those past words are floating lopsided out in time. Is it correct to say that I am halted by my words and confused on where to write them? Either way, I know what is a calling. One can not dwell on the interior so much and not need to recreate a fallen era of words that is lost in the modern books called "literature." Seriously, if I see another Stephanie Meyer book called "the best book I have ever read" I might consider hitting them with an extra copy of Faulkner that I have lying around.

He that shall

As I was walking back from class today on campus I heard someone speaking that sounded relatively like Barack Obama. Curious I go over to the crowd to discover someone speaking about homosexuality. I did not stay long enough to hear his speech for I walked away when he raised his Bible and said "The Bible says that homosexuals shall be damned." I got so angry. The Bible is not a weapon. It is not a means for anyone to shout their opinions as right or wrong. The word of God is not a bullet to be used to spread your crusade of what is righteous to others. No man can pass a judgement on another man that says the way he lives is wrong and damnable. I hate when Christianity turns to hypocrisy and God is used as an excuse to shout insecurities.


"What is it that you want when you go to church Gabriel?"
"I want others to know that God should not wear their face. "
His eyes paused and came out of their trance to look down at me.
"Why do you ask? What do you want Shelly?"
"I desire a nameless church."
"I think that is bordering atheism"
"Aren’t you one?"
He looked at me for the first time as if he saw me, and looked within me and saw my confusion.
"I am not an atheist Shell. I believe so deeply within God that I do not need to shout my insecurities about him so loudly like others who are unknowingly bordering disbelief. "
I was ashamed. How stupid could I have been so stupid to not realize.
"I do not know what I look for."
Go with what you said. Look for a God that has no name.
"When I question God I feel like because I am questioning him my belief has faltered. And so I stop. "
"God has given us the knowledge to question him. Do not feel ashamed when you look out in the world and question what you see. "
"I do not know what I see. When I think of God, I see you. "

source

I'm doing what I do best- procrastinating. Today has been one of those days where I just sit around. Although I've read two chapters and am on my third for my exam on Monday, I have no remembrance of what I've read. My mind is boggled by someone far away.
What I always feared about relationships is the fact that someone would get to know me. I like the chase. Just exposition, not the story. The more you know someone the more they disappoint you and I didn't want to be someone's disappointment. I fear that once you give yourself over to be viewed as flawed that person can walk away with your flaws; that I am no longer myself but shared, broken into many different pieces. I fear that things between us will not work. I know that my mood on this is because of my overall mood lately. There is nothing wrong with me but yet I feel this way. My relationships with all people are failing and my social skills are falling into yet another low. I don't feel like trying. I over think conversations and what is said. I think into the future and plan it out and all the time it ends up short and fleeting. I think about and plan what I would do if we broke up even though I should be enjoying this time we are together. I plan things that I will hold off telling him till the future, till the right time, for maximum effect. I don't say what I feel when I'm angry for chance that it should end. I am a lap dog. I fear that he does not know me, all of my layers of me, and I fear his misconception. I am so ashamed of myself, of my past, that I don't understand how anyone could still love me if they know. I don't want pity I just want an understanding that I am not weak. I want to be held but not out of necessity just for the closeness of feeling. I want to be small and fragile but not a child. I just don't want to lose him and my paranoia is ruining my relationship with him.

I could write you into being

This is not the sound of an unraveling. This is the sound of words mixing, love protruding and leaving a space. In its absence a time has formed; one of empty bottles and barrels that were once filled with satisfaction. I drank them empty of their sins for lust of things. The liquid of your mistakes seeps into my body and I have made you whole. I am left in a state of inertia and stoic becomes my phrase of mind. If lack of movement was a mood, I am in it. If you were a choice, things would be much simpler. If humans were an object to be found and bought, meaning would cease to be important. There is not quality and quantity, there is no need for satisfaction. Just the unending sound of numbers marching and fingers typing to form one single thought for the mistakes of t-
Each sentence is a fragment- a fragment of a thought- independent of the other, making sense in sound but not together. They tell a story, separately, combining to form an essence- not a story.

Common Sense

I am a variation of self locked in self. I am an item of clothing thrown over a shoulder forgetfully- by need of want for normalcy. I am the unwanted smile on a face wrinkled in frowns- gestures unfamiliar always seem unnatural- I am forced. I am the fungus on your skin and I grow, fester, and bleed out your insecurities for the world to see. I make you known. And I leave you naked on the pavement, skin stretched and legs wide open revealing all your subtleties. I have made you forgetful of your past. Things you once knew you now know you have forgotten. I am that knowledge of inadequacy. I have traded your innocence, for it came out of a man driven by lust. I was his reason. I have raped you of a soft touch on skin, of a love of quiet places and contentment at home. I have left you battered and bruised thinking that everything is not enough.

What if I had never met you? Would you be the same?

Wallow in your own blood sweat and tears
For in all those years
I missed you
You never came back to say you were gone.

A remembrance of your fingers
Of your impression
Which lingers
On my skin and in my mind
Which holds it there for all of time.

I could have loved you not like the rest
but I measured it out
and can now say at best
Ero's is a fool at love-
he counted but then lost his mind.

To drink is to...

I had a weekend away. In a hotel room in Orlando. Where did I go though? I will never know. I suffer from anxiety and depression which I refuse to treat, so on a daily basis an equilibrium is something I can barely try to achieve. I know I cannot drink. Past addictions should tell me so. But I do anyway. I do, and oh how I did. I am still recovering from the depression drinking gives me. It puts me in a frame of mind not worth going for. When I drink I see myself, magnified. I see myseflf under a magnifying glass in the spot light of my mind and what I see I do not like. Plus as a personality trait contradicting my feelings I am a very physical drunk who wants someone there and wants to be alone. I am in a relationship. But I insisted on having a friend, whose relationship with myself is complicated, stay with me the whole night. And I told him everything. How I think. All thats happened to me. I told him things I have never told anyone- no one- I told him things I have just recently figured out for myself. It hurts that I did this. I feel exposed and my feelings violated. But I did this. Whats worse is now I feel a bond to him; something ties us together that we only know. Now when I speak, he knows most all my secrets. He knows them all. I haven't even told my boyfriend these things. And that hurts. These things are something I want him to know but how, when I am so ashamed. I know in a sober mind I would never have told anyone, but I won't use drunk as an excuse. I feel exposed, he knows of my sadness, and he honestly thought I would kill myself. How do I show my face to that sober?

You cannot "follow" your dreams

How far within can I go? To retreat within beyond the exterior levels of skin and soul? In sleep one can go deep. I can go deep. Just to lay on my bed and retreat farther inward; within myself, outside myself. Such isolation's are irreversible. How can the mind dig itself out of the mind? How can the soul find clarity when walls built and nurtured stand in its way?

I always get an imprinting sadness when I know I am doing this. I always say don't make me retreat farther within. Don't make me lose myself. For I do. Whenever I am being bothered when I want to be alone, whenever I am awake on nights when my anxiety is flaming, when I see things others cannot perceive- I go deeper. As a child I played it like a game. I wanted to hide myself from the night and I realized that if I could hide myself on the inside that the night could never get me. I was night blind and my eyes could never adjust, so what lay beyond when day ceases to be light, I could never fathom. So I painted a picture of a wall around my soul and built it up thinking You can never breach this, and they couldn't. They, it- it's all the same now.

The reason for all of this is realities. Lately I am sleeping, but I am not sleeping. I am consciously asleep. I know what I am thinking but I am asleep. I am aware of the variables of the outside world. If I am expecting a phone call I think about it as I sleep. I cannot move to check my phone, I cannot wake my body up, I can only lay there thinking of the phone call. It is as if half of my mind is awake. So is sleeping a different reality? If you think about it you are no longer in the real world. When I say you, I mean you-your soul, mind- is no longer in the awake reality, only your exterior- but that ceases to count. So when you close your eyes and are asleep have you entered a different state of reality? And if so, is it possible to breach them? If anyone has ever read Charles De Lint or knows a little of the tales of the world in-between- our world and the old world- how it lays just beyond the brink of our awareness, all around us. Only a thin vale stops us from entering. Could this be said of sleeping? Is it possible to breach?

I declare

we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor.
This stands out in my mind. Part of the last line of the Declaration of Independence. If you actually read the whole thing, it is slightly exaggerated and in open form refers to Indians as savages, but all in all it is still the most important document of our country. But to me the first line- We hold these truths to be self evident that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, and that among these are Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness- this line is not as important as the last line shown above. For in the last line a "we" is evident instead of an "I." We as a country as a whole. In no other place will you find a government say "we" and not mean "I."
And this brings me to ask: Why does everyone hate our country? Why? Why is it that in the minds of our youth Europe seems like such a greater opportunity? Why does back packing through Europe sound better than exploring America? We criticize our government but what we do not realize is that we are allowed to criticize our government, and openly at that. I am not a God rearing nationalistic banner of American pride, all I am saying is there is nothing wrong with being an American and one should not feel ashamed in being so.

Also another thought for your mind to wander upon is this: Agriculture is something grasses did to humans to conquer trees. It puts the birth of agriculture in the perspective of the plants. It makes me realize that the belief that we have as human history being a steady growth as wrong. This is first evident in our biggest mistake- agriculture.

noise

I'm home again this weekend. Came home to an empty house smelling of food. I looked at the hardened spaghetti left to dry out on the stove and I turned my nose away. After a collapse on my bed I immediately let myself fall back to the silences of the world. It no longer feels like home. Already so much has changed while I've been away that it is no longer the place in my memories. It is changed. Like I knew it would be, like I expected.

It's his birthday and..

I finished all my work! Agh, can you believe it? Now, I'm not going to think about the nauseating large amount of reading I have to do over the weekend and that half of the work I completed today was late work. Positivity right? Right......

Well on that positive note (sarcasm) my dog died. After having her since I was eight she died today. Her kidneys and pancreas were failing and she had lost all control of her bowels. On top of that she was diabetic. So, my parents had to have her put to sleep. What makes me sad is that I wasn't there. When my cat had to be put to sleep, I insisted on being in the room and watch as she died. I didn't want the last thing she saw to be unfamiliar faces laying on a cold lab table. So I petted her as she died. I just would've liked to have been there to say goodbye.

This has not been a good week, couple of weeks, but strangely right now I'm not upset. I think after having drained so much out of my self these last two weeks, I'm out of emotions to feel. I hate highs and lows and in between's and how they repeat themselves. I noticed when I was too young to be noticing these things that it is all a circle.

And this leaves me to the question that I ask quite often: Where did I lose my childhood? I reflect back and I can only remember being free and feeling alive when I was outside. I know it was short, no matter how much others tried to preserve it. I think it was the fact that everyone tried to hide things from me because I was so young that I grew up faster. I knew anyway and not telling me only shows a sense of defeat at the characteristics of humans. A sense of defeat in myself. For how was I ever supposed to understand?

Long wrong turns

I promise to update on here more. Just side tracked lately. New lows. To be perfectly honest and to not doll things up, I've had multiple mental breakdowns and a slight overdose. But I'm back. I will not reflect any longer on it, I don't want to. The future is not immenient; as in it is not foreboding and blissless. I have to keep a second to second outlook. I have to learn to live more in the present.

Will update more, contribute more, try to make this the creative place I want it to be and am searching as an outlet for.