Falling for something that doesn't exist.

I can now no longer speak to you.
I cannot see you.
I cannot talk about you.

I miss you. An awful lot.
But its more painful to be with you.
At least this way I can pretend that you do not exist.

I still cry. It doesn’t stop the tears.
It doesn’t completely stop the pain.
And it certainly doesn’t stop me thinking about you.

It’s not right.
It’s not supposed to be like this.
This is not supposed to happen.

Please, make it stop.

Is there a cure for this pain
Maybe I should have something to eat
But food wont take this emptiness away
Im hungry for you my love

Well I made it through another day
In my cold room
On scraps and pieces left behind
I survive on the memory of you

Am I Real?

“Real isn’t how you were made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.”
“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.
“Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.”
“Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,” he asked, “or bit by bit?”
“It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse. “You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t often happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

True epiphanies of the last few days

I’ve realised that a piece of paper will decide my life. A piece of fucking paper.
That small white thing, so easily broken, will either break me, or fill me with such happiness.. I don’t like that something so small and flimsy will be the most important thing of my life yet.

I’ve realised that in reality, I don’t care about me. Like I said, it doesn’t bother me if no one thinks about me, not even myself. Most of the time anyway. I want to think about others all the time; really I don’t want anyone to think about me. That would be a waste of time wouldn’t it? I don’t think this is something that anyone can understand.. but it’s how I want the world to be: that no one worries about me, not even myself. I don’t want to be a burden, not to anyone.

I’ve realised that I will always be myself. I will always be the same person with the same liver and the same belly button and the same voice box and the same nose. And that same me will shower in different showers and sleep in different beds and eat in different places. But no matter what changes around me, I will always be the same. My whole life I have been expecting change to happen, to myself. But I think I’ve reached that point where I wont be changing anymore. That same face will still look out from the mirror, everyday. Sure, things may change inside me and little things will change my appearance but I will still be the same collection of particles that I was right in the beginning, the same particles that I was two months ago, the same particles that I am right now. And I can feel some security in that fact. That no matter what changes, there is always something that doesn’t change. And that thought, it’s my safe haven.

I’ve realised that murderers can be forgiven. Everyone can be forgiven and I will forgive everyone. I knew this already but still, it had to be stated.

I’ve realised that there are so many things that don’t matter. It’s so easy to be tricked into thinking that they do matter.. but they don’t. The hard part is reminding yourself that they don’t.

I’ve realised that even though we all say that the world is changing.. it really isn’t. The essence of it is still exactly the same. They all say that kids are so much more into drugs than what they were; that people are more self-obessesed than what they used to be; that the world is a much more horrible place than what it was. In reality, it’s all still the same. Kids are just as much fucked up as what they have always been. A person’s image is still just as important to a 13th century woman as it is to a 21st century woman. The world has always been both good and bad. Humans are creatures of habit, and they enjoy the homey comfort of things staying the same. And things have stayed the same, generally speaking. And I don’t think that pattern is going to change.

Knowing is Controlling

I think in life we are left mostly to our own devices. We chose what our life turns out like in terms of our decisions, we are the ultimate masters of control.

But sometimes there are things that are beyond our control. Not many, just a few. Physical things like car crashes or tsunamis. Or mental things, things of our mind. Sometimes you just know completely and utterly that something is right. It’s not a decision that you can make or influence. Nothing you do can change it. I believe that everyone has at least one. Some have more than one. But many people don’t ever find this feeling. They are never able to be in the right place at the right time and so they go through life without ever discovering the hidden talent that lays inside them. Some might even believe they have discovered it but have instead been confused about what this feeling is supposed to be. And some are lucky enough to find it within themselves; those are the people who know what it is they have to do. Those are the people who know what they are good at or what it is that they were born to do. Those people know if something is wholly right.

What you do with that knowledge is of course another decision that you make. You can chose to act upon it or not, to leave it lie or tell the whole world; you are once again in control of your life. But the possession of that knowledge happens and nothing you can do will cause you to acquire it or forget it.

It comes from within. From within yourself you just know. Look deep inside and you may find it, if that is how it’s supposed to happen.

You will know that it is right.

So I guess what I’m asking is,
Is it right?

Draw Your Swords

See her come down, through the clouds
I feel like a fool
I aint got nothing left to give
Nothing to lose

So come on Love, draw your swords
SHOOT me to the ground
You are mine, I am yours
Lets not fuck around

Cause you are, the only one

I warn you against thinking for even a moment that this is what I want.
But what say do I have?
I've tried. Fuck, did I try. But you know what?
Maybe it's right.


Maybe Not.

I'm Lying Through My Teeth

I'm lying to you. Right now, I'm lying my pants off. I want to tell you the truth.
But I don't want to hurt you either.
So instead I'll hurt myself and lie to you.
But it's lies.
All of it.

So what I'm really thinking right now? What I really want to say to you?
No, I don't think it's worth it.
Yes, I am thinking of someone in particular.
Yes, I can tell you what to do: give up.
That's what they all say.
No, we do not agree.
You are persuing the impossible.
It's not worth this.



Et moi? Avez-vous me voir?







What a silly question.

Beware

It's that time of year again.
I just hope it doesn't hit anyone, me especially, as hard as it hit last year.
I can't screw it up. I have no room for error.
Not a single inch.