Tag: lyrics

I’ve Been Cutting Again

Closed_Caption_by_stellaheartClosed Caption by Stellaheart

In the most figurative of senses. Eventually and inevitably I let go of everyone. But it’s not so much a slow parting of ways as a sharp and sudden CUT. I get random bursts of sentiment which I direct (whether warranted or unwarranted) towards others that ends everything. Many times my family has been on the receiving end of my caprices; lucky for me my family loves me unconditionally and they would never part with me nor I them (no matter how difficult the situation). But more often, on the receiving end are friends who have absolutely no obligation to me whatsoever. And in fact, hold fast and steady to that by not taking any crap from me, which I applaud and respect. Though it does mean that one by one I lose friends and make new ones to replace them. Only a very limited few have “taken me back” – including my family and very few friends. I’m not one for mending relationships particularly. Friendships, I feel, should be the most natural of things. If there is any work involved in maintaining a friendship, I drop it like it’s hot. I lose interest. I’m too apathetic to work for a hangout session or push for a closer relationship. Throughout life I have been blessed by people that just happen to like me… where the friendship does become the most natural thing. Though sometimes I worry if they too will eventually just become another one of my cuts. I worry.

Luckily, I can still count all the cuts on my two hands. And when I say “cut” I honestly don’t mean faded friendships. I mean people I’ve bluntly and straightforwardly argued with irreparably and made it clear, “No, I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

I laughed just now because there is one person I “warned” prior to becoming their friend that I would most likely not be their friend after some time because it’s just what I do. (What kind of mood was I in to tell someone something like that, and what could possibly go through a person’s mind when they hear something like that and yet still proceed forward?!) Anyway, the laugh is bittersweet. Am I so ridiculous? And you know what, I did. I did cut them from my life. And it’s a decision I regret so fully I still feel the emotional repercussions, but in this one case, it was for the best. I’m sorry.

I’ve written too much. I’m so much more logical with every passing day.

So take this razor sign your name across my wrists
So everyone will know who left me like this
Sew me up my scars run deep
A reminder not to forget the times that we’ve had.

- A Synonym For Acquiesce, Bayside

This Heat

It’s making me nervous how every day feels the same
Meet my phantoms, they never seem to want to go away
So they stay

There have been several real-life to-my-face complaints regarding my blog as of late. Those that have stumbled back to my blog have started asking me why I’m not writing anything with personal denotations. Technically, my entries had personal connotations thrown in, but this seems to not be enough for anyone. I wasn’t sure anyone cared, I wasn’t sure I wanted to write. Scratch that, I was still writing so as not to forget the existence of my blog, but personal matters are the furthest from my mind when it comes to writing right now because it’s what I deal with on the daily.

I found a good place for everyone I know to come and rest
All I ever wanted is for everyone I know to come and rest
Meet my Phantoms

Officially, my third year of college starts in a week and a half though I’ve been a junior for many months now. I’m still very much confused about school but the best action is inaction; I continue to unquestioningly enroll and attend my classes despite not liking the direction I am headed. Given recent developments I want to come back home, take a break from school… do something real. Let’s not get hasty, though. Inaction is the best action.

How’s your body, how clean is your soul?
Why are you trying to steal my thoughts before they talk?
Fall right in, let’s talk Maurice
If everything’s fine, then what are you waiting for?

Summer flew me by. Many problems arose. Lots of hangs went down. Transient accomplishments. Vague emotions. Music discoveries. And a heavy dose of forced independence.

Let’s end with: A strong sense of helplessness.

(It’s all about waiting it out.)

What happens when he doesn’t love you?

Title just a little bit of a thought. Most movies and novels portray people falling in love… So long as one person takes an interest the other person is just bound to reciprocate the emotion. There’s like 0 chance of failure. I don’t know… it bothers me.

So why am I blogging nonstop? I have a lot to say and no one to say it to, that’s why. Writing out my silly little thoughts is the one and only escape during a time when my thoughts run rampant (cold seasons).

So if you don’t mind
I think I’ll wear my heart on my sleeve,
‘Cause I’m tired of not being able to bleed.

My mother keeps emailing and calling for me to go home for Thanksgiving now that she knows I don’t want to go since she made me feel so unwelcome. To explain the situation she basically said we don’t get along so she hopes I don’t come over for the weekends to torture her. Then I said that [if that was the case] then I wouldn’t be going for Thanksgiving. And then she realized she sort of fcked up. She tried calling me, and I just said I wasn’t going and she launched into a stream of insults about how I like to make myself a victim. *sigh* Okay, I did NOT go around calling any family members for some sort of support or backing or anything. I know better than to try to get them to side with me over my mother. They just don’t get involved (much to my disappointment). So how am I making myself out to be a goddamn victim?! I’m not *looking* actively for any sort of sympathy.

Anyway, so yesterday she transferred money into my bank account and emailed me telling me so. Let it be known she does not pay for a single cent of my college education. She is completely uninvolved in my life, basically. So I emailed her back, “Thanks, I appreciate it.” What poor college student doesn’t appreciate money, right? That was that. Then she emails me again today, rather suspiciously optimistically and cheerfully, that she hopes I make it and how we can go shopping on Friday, and something about getting me an early Christmas present.

I haven’t replied yet. *sigh* If I go it’s like saying, “Yeah you can insult me all you want and you can still get your way!” Going would be like giving in and showing that I’m not entirely serious in saying something like “I am not going home for the holiday then.” And she will have won. But I feel bad because she keeps asking me to go now. Sure, any readers out there can think, “Oh she feels bad now, you should go,” but it’s not that simple! This woman abused me throughout my childhood – physically, verbally, emotionally – and I don’t know how much more I can take. And my little brother really wants me to go. For him, I should just go right? Ugh… but I don’t want her to WIN and get her way yet again.

But it will also set a nasty precedent if I don’t go. I may not go for winter break then if I don’t go for Thanksgiving. What will have changed from one holiday to the next right?

All signs are pointing to: Take the abuse and forget about it. Keep coming back for more. Always. (If I’m ever in a relationship I swear I won’t be surprised if it’s an abusive one.)

I’m so fucked. *sigh* I don’t knooooow.

What brings you closer to complete?

I finished my stats hw at 7pm after which I promptly got out all my Japanese hw to start… way early, I know! Typically this stuff doesn’t get done until near bedtime or even in the morning (since class isn’t until 11am). But 30 minutes past the hour I looked down at my hw and I realized I hadn’t even started it. There’s too much on my mind.

Maybe the reason why I have such a bad memory is because I don’t like memories. They make me sad.

Wow, okay so i was just wringing my hands together from slight anxiety at the thought of typing this next bit:

I don’t want to say I’m depressed because 1) it may not be true [yet] 2) it’s admitting a problem 3) it’s a weakness. Whenever I think of professing some really serious emotion on my blog I instantly think of a scenario (that actually did happen once) where I’m happy for a long period of time and then the next day I’m miserable. And someone (anyone) reads my blog, but only the entry in which I profess depression and then they see me as weak, vulnerable, a sad pathetic person, etc. It’s like… you missed out on all the good days! Why come on the day that I portray myself as depressed? This actually happened and it was pretty embarrassing for me. Life has been great… it really has, so I don’t want to go around chanting depression.

Except yeah… well I don’t know. I’m breaking down a little bit. Things are starting to get to me. I anger easily. Everything is depressing, no matter which way I spin it. Memories are hurting me. UGH. This is so not pleasant.

Honestly, I’m *trying* to focus on homework but thoughts are coming in waaay too fast and too many. The return to normalcy is so tempting, if only it were that easy! I want to be able to do a simple task and FOCUS without all these depressing thoughts.

And I’m thinking long-term again. Always a bad thing. Always. My future looks bleak, that’s for sure. But if I don’t think about it I can live day by day and it’s okay.

Everyone else is everything that I’m not.

Internal conflict. I’m fighting two different thoughts in my head. Should I go home for Thanksgiving? Should I not? Reasons for both. UGH. Mother kept asking me why I was at the new house (she’s not making me feel welcome, and something like, “When you first went to college you weren’t living with me so why do you want to come here now?”), but then if I don’t go for a holiday of course I will be the rude one and then everyone will be mad at me. Why am I thinking this far ahead in advance? It’s 20 some such days away.

Sheesh, it’s almost like I give myself things to stress about.

Empty fields move me so much more than rooms filled up with friends.

Ugh, don’t get me started on friends… or the lack of, lately.

Heart-strutter needs a new layout. There isn’t enough time in the day. Asdf!! Let me find some inspiration and then I’ll get back to this new layout business. *sigh*

Morbid diathesis.

For you, my heart, ripped from my chest. Eviscerated, I am. And if I could, I would plunge my fingers through my chest and rip out my heart and give it to you. A pulpy mass of morbid diathesis. In addition to my heart, there are some small organs that I want to give you: glands… sweetbreads… a variety of meats. I’m offering these gifts. Rare gifts. I know that they don’t amount to much in the face of what you’ve given me. I’ve heard these organs can’t survive outside the body for more than a few hours. But I’ll try to get there as soon as I can. Whatever happens, it will be on me. On my heart.

Until The Break of Dawn

I thought I saw a man brought to life
He was warm
He came around and he was dignified
He showed me what it was to cry

Well you couldn’t be that man I adored
You don’t seem to know
Or seem to care what your heart is for
Well I don’t know him anymore
There’s nothing where he used to lie
My conversation has run dry
That’s what’s going on
Nothing’s fine I’m torn

So I guess the fortune teller’s right
I should have seen just what was there
And not some holy light
But you crawled beneath my veins
And now I don’t care
I have no luck
I don’t miss it all that much
There’s just so many things
That I can’t touch I’m torn

Last night as I was lying in bed texting Edgar I got pretty pensive… and after a while Edgar stopped texting (to get in the shower) so I randomly decided to text ze Robert. I was thinking back and I realized he’s the only person to ever have heard me cry. It probably didn’t mean anything to him then, but we were together during the roughest months of my life. I was a fucking walking disaster. When I cried to him two years ago, on the phone, my mother and I had just gotten into a really bad *fight*. And by fight I mean physical fight. It was so bad I had to miss a week of school.

That same week David came over to my house to check up on me. I mean I hadn’t shown up to school in a week! He sat on my bed, and I was sitting at my desk and David started crying. By then I was so over it, so numb from the pain I just couldn’t even cry about it.

Oh shit. Oh wow. This is not the topic I intended to write about but there it is. I’ll just cut this short.

Sandy’s baking blueberry muffins! Yumm~

Small note: Lyrics not to be applied to Rob. They’re separate. A story all their own.