last night i just had to get out. i was sitting in my bed thinking about how much i just want to go home. but i kept telling myself... angela there is just nowhere to go. but around ten fifteen i just couldn't stay there any longer... i ran outside and the whole world was shaking... i got in my car and ended up driving to the revue. i just had to go home.
i ordered my camomile tea and sat in one of the back corner booths. the same one vicente likes to sit at while he's drawing pictures of my friend laura. i listened to jj heller and opened my bible... but i couldnt read... all i could do was listen.
"dont let your eyes get used to darkness
the light is coming soon
dont let your heart get used to sadness
put your hope in what is true
no matter how the wind may blow
it cannot shake the sun
lay your sorrows on the ground
its time to come back home."
and look. all i could see was the empty space across from me. there was no one there. but my mind started forming a person... i had never realized how strong my imagination was... but all of the sudden there were the hands lying on the table next to mine... there were the shoulders leaning forward and the ears turned attentively to my tears... and i could see the concern and confidence in his eyes. i reached my hand out and touched his... and instead of being angry this time... instead of asking God how much longer my imagination would be my only solace... all i felt was sorrow. and all i could do was sit there and look. well and cry. but that was a given.
so eventually my apparition of love faded away and i opened up my bible again. and you would not believe the first thing i read. i mean you would not believe it...
"Therefore we do not lose heart, but though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by day. For momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison,
while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal."
that was one of those kind of moments that changes your life.
maybe you get it... maybe you dont. it doesnt really matter. what matters is... that empty space was full of promise. not possibility... but promise. He was there. and the fact that I couldnt see Him was all the proof i need.
i was home.
angela
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Friday, October 10, 2008
epiphany
we want to be alive. we want to cry and laugh and dance and sing. today i was watching csi on the internet... and i dont know of any of you follow the story... but at the end of the last season one of the main csi's was murdered. so the first episode of this season was all about finding his killer and mourning his death. the very last scene was the at the funeral, and grissom was giving the eulugy. he was all choked up and couldnt finish it... all he could say was "i am going to miss him alot." and i am just so enraptured by this scene that i dont even notice that i am totally crying. and then there was this split second moment in my brain where the sensation of the tears running down my cheeks must have somehow collided with the pictures that were being delivered to my mind and bang... i had it. an epiphany. i understood why i love to watch tv so much. because i want to be alive! i want to experience life to its fullness, good emotions and bad. the richness of life is so muted by all our... conveniences. we are all so muted. there are things that pull us out from the damp gray sea that we live in... if even for a moment. like music for example. sometimes when you listen to the right song what you feel is all the sudden amplified like a hundred times. colors seem brighter, the sky is bluer, and the scent on the wind is sweeter. it almost seems as if you have been pulled into a different reality. but what i am proposing is this... what if that is reality? what if the whole world is singing and we just arent listening? what if each of our lives are songs in themselves? what if we are so distracted by all the voices in our ears that we cant hear the music? and im not just talking about the songs that make you feel good but the sad ones too. the requiems and the dirges and the "nobody knows the trouble ive seen" kind of songs. true pain and pleasure seem to be lost in this instant gratification, living without consequences provides a life of no consequence.
well i want to live. i want to feel it all. the bad and the good. the whole and the broken. the question and the answer. a life of mystery and adventure awaits the person who takes the unbeaten path. it takes work and patience but what i am starting to see is that its worth it. really living is really worth it. and thats the kind of life i want to offer to the people i love. because the music is always playing and we are all apart of the song. because the colors really are brighter than they seem. because we all want to be alive... even when we dont know what living is.
well i want to live. i want to feel it all. the bad and the good. the whole and the broken. the question and the answer. a life of mystery and adventure awaits the person who takes the unbeaten path. it takes work and patience but what i am starting to see is that its worth it. really living is really worth it. and thats the kind of life i want to offer to the people i love. because the music is always playing and we are all apart of the song. because the colors really are brighter than they seem. because we all want to be alive... even when we dont know what living is.
Monday, June 9, 2008
onday, June 09, 2008
- who am i doing this for? is it for Him? is it for me? is it for her, for them, or even for those?
no one is inside my head. no one is inside my heart. no one walks, runs, or jumps, down the hallways of my mind. no one looks around a corner or into an empty room. solidarity. beauty. fire. courage. if i could just have the courage. i never imagine that life that would be this way. i never pictured the challenges i would faced. i never knew what it meant to hate my life only to save it, to die only to live eternally. for the first time i am truly writing this only for myself. i dont need an audience anymore. i have moved on. because i realized that sometimes there is just no one there on the other side of the wall. sometimes in this world you can be really truly alone.
lamentations 1:7
"In the days of her affliction and wandering
Jerusalem remembers all the treasures
that were hers in days of old. "
lamentations 1:9
" 9 Her filthiness clung to her skirts;
she did not consider her future.
Her fall was astounding;
there was none to comfort her. "
lamentations 1:13
" 13 "From on high he sent fire,
sent it down into my bones."
lamentations 1:16
" 16 "This is why I weep
and my eyes overflow with tears.
No one is near to comfort me,
no one to restore my spirit."
lamentations 2:13
" 13 What can I say for you?
With what can I compare you,
O Daughter of Jerusalem?
To what can I liken you,
that I may comfort you,
O Virgin Daughter of Zion?
Your wound is as deep as the sea.
Who can heal you?"
lamentations 3:21-29
"21 Yet this I call to mind
and therefore I have hope:22 Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.23 They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.24 I say to myself, "The LORD is my portion;
therefore I will wait for him."25 The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him,
to the one who seeks him;26 it is good to wait quietly
for the salvation of the LORD.27 It is good for a man to bear the yoke
while he is young.28 Let him sit alone in silence,
for the LORD has laid it on him.29 Let him bury his face in the dust—
there may yet be hope."why do i keep on doing this? why do i sit here in the silence day after day and mourn and weep before the throne? maybe i havent quite figured that out yet. but i do know that i cant stop. He has sent fire down into my bones. i didnt know it was possible to long for someone this much. i never knew that i could want Jesus more than i want life. but i do. He is all that matters to me. if i cant follow Him, if i cant be with Him, if i cant love Him, if i cant serve Him, if i cant be in the presence of the Father, then there is absolutely no point to me existing. do you get what i am saying here? i really mean it. this is it. there is no turning back. nothing else will do.
i have started to give up hope that i will find someone with the same passion and desire that i have. for some reason i have really been hoping to find someone to link hands with as we take a running jump off a cliff and into the ocean of His love. i wanted to find someone who wanted Him more than the air they breathe. i wanted to find someone who was ready to let it all go. i mean all of it. maybe its just time for me to jump off the cliff on my own. someday though, i believe with all my heart, that i will find that person. or maybe even more than one. they are out there. and they're looking for me.
you'll come like the rain.
Monday, April 14, 2008
disappeared.
Well… I figure its about time that I tell you my story. I’m sure you are curious as to where I have been these past couple of weeks, why I haven’t returned your text messages, phone calls, or comments. Well… its been quite interesting actually…
It all started in the last week of March, consequently the first week in which I had been able to connect with a lot of my old good friends. Aruna was in town… and we got to spend a lot of fun time together. We hung out at Ben’s house and Jonathan was hilarious, Joe was sexy, Nu was boisterous, and Christine was kind and warm. We made a movie and then we all went to the movies and played halo at Joe’s. I spent some time talking to both Nu and Brandon in the car and it was good, refreshing you could say, a nice cool stream flowing through the loneliness that has been my life for the past few months. But for some reason… It just made something click inside of me. It brought back all those memories I had been trying to ignore. For the last few months I had stopped crying… stopped mourning over the loss of friendships, closeness, warmth, joy. I had just accepted it as a part of who I was and I just lived in miserableness as an unchangeable reality, not even noticing that I had transformed to a sad, hurting person, to a fundamentally sick one.
You have got to understand something, this has been a long hard journey for me and I have looked up one road and down another for healing, for enlightenment, for change. But as many times as I have tried, I have failed, and every single time I get back on my feet I fall even farther down. Everything I have done for the past two years has been a struggle to me, even down to waking up in the morning or making myself something to eat. Struggle, difficulty, and pain are the air I breathe and to tell you the truth I can’t figure out why. I don’t understand why. Well I know “why”, it’s because I am sick. Its because my synapses are fried and my brain isn’t working right. Its because my genetic make-up, because every single person that I have ever met or just heard of on both sides of my family have been diagnosed with some form of mental illness, mostly depression but some more severe. One being my own biological father who has Borderline Multiple Personality Disorder, depression, and anxiety. I’ve inherited this illness. But the question I ask of the Lord is why. Why do you want me to be this way? Why have you left me like this when I have tried so hard, fought so hard, loved so hard? What else is it that you want me to do? Who else is it that you want me to be? What else do you want me to say? Why can’t I be healed?
But back to the story. So I sunk low… real low… lower even then when I actually tried to commit suicide… heck I didn’t even know it was possible to go lower than that. It was like all the pain of the last few months decided to let itself lose on my psyche in one weekend… and eventually I realized that I no longer had control of my own mind, that I was slipping in and out of rational thought. I had violent uncontrollable images dancing in my head and some very strong urges to do something violent to myself. I could see myself hanging from ceiling rafters or laying dead in the bathtub with long lines cut into my wrists. And it wasn’t ok. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think. So I called a friend, and then I called my mom per my friend’s instruction, then my mom came home from work and we called my insurance company. Then we went to the hospital. It was nerve wracking. Going up to the front desk and saying you want to be screened to see if you need to be checked in, filling out paperwork, telling the nurse that you can no longer be trusted with your own safety, knowing that there is a possibility you wont be able to leave depending on what you say. Then they have you sign at the dotted line and they take you back behind locked doors and you kiss your loved ones goodbye. At the nurses station the make you strip down to your chonies and they check your body for bruises and scars. Then they take your shoelaces away and give you a pair of hospital socks. Then you wait. You wait for things to start making sense again. You wait for someone to come and give you some type of pharmecudical, you wait for your blood pressure to be taken. You just wait.
It was pretty frightening the first night. I mean most of the people in there have much more severe outward representations of their mental illnesses than I do. For example, there was one lady who had actually stabbed herself through the heart several times. I mean like taking the knife and actually pushing all the way in, several times. Another girl had been molested and raped by her grandfather from time that she was three until she was seventeen. She was a cutter and a bulimic, her arms and her legs were basically scar tissue and the word failure was carved into her shin. Some of them were looking at me like why the heck was I there, and maybe I should just go home to my mommy. So it was hard to fit in at first, and trust me, you don’t want to be the odd man out at a mental hospital… its already bad enough that you cant talk to or see anybody you know… you don’t really want to sit alone at lunch too. Or at least I don’t.
Group therapy was challenging (I have many funny anecdotes if you ever want to hear any), I talked to like four doctors and day and had to somehow adjust to the severe side effects of my new medication. It was interesting. Its hard to even describe my experiences there because it was so different from anything else. It was outside of the normal beat of life, my only responsibility was to my own mental health, literally every other concern was taken care of for me. I needed it, really bad. As scary and as difficult as it was, I just couldn’t handle life anymore. There were nice nurses and mean ones, good days and bad ones. I led a prayer group, had the opportunity to pray over a couple of people and share the Word with them. I had people coming up to me and asking me questions about the Lord. I think I even caught the nurses’ attention, they were surprised to see our prayer requests written up on the whiteboard. I stayed for four days.
When I was released my psychiatrist told me to be careful, that the first week after being released from the hospital is when most people successfully commit suicide, that if I was having any suicidal ideations to seek emergency care. And it was a very hard week. My medication was making it difficult for me to even chew my food, I had to do everything slowly and methodically and with great care not to overload myself. I was exhausted and had killer stomach aches and a fogginess of mind. This last Friday marked the one week point and it is true what the doctor said. I was full of suicidal ideations. I wanted to drive my car off the road several times late at night. I spent a good half hour in the booze aisle contemplating what it would be like to drink my sorrows away. I scratched up my arm with my fingernails to see if I could have the cojones to draw blood. So if I haven’t been staying in contact… I am sorry. I am my own little irrational world right now, fighting for survival. I need time. Time for the meds to kick in and time to try to finish my classes and keep my job. Time to try to stay afloat.
This weekend things have taken an unexpected turn for the worse. The gradual improvement of my health has slowed to a stop, and I fear it is even reversing direction. If I haven't returned your phone calls, your comments, or your emails, at least now you know why. I am not here to get them. I have gone away. To quote one of my very favorite movies...
"Naomi? Naomi is not here. There is no Naomi. Naomi is disappeared."
It all started in the last week of March, consequently the first week in which I had been able to connect with a lot of my old good friends. Aruna was in town… and we got to spend a lot of fun time together. We hung out at Ben’s house and Jonathan was hilarious, Joe was sexy, Nu was boisterous, and Christine was kind and warm. We made a movie and then we all went to the movies and played halo at Joe’s. I spent some time talking to both Nu and Brandon in the car and it was good, refreshing you could say, a nice cool stream flowing through the loneliness that has been my life for the past few months. But for some reason… It just made something click inside of me. It brought back all those memories I had been trying to ignore. For the last few months I had stopped crying… stopped mourning over the loss of friendships, closeness, warmth, joy. I had just accepted it as a part of who I was and I just lived in miserableness as an unchangeable reality, not even noticing that I had transformed to a sad, hurting person, to a fundamentally sick one.
You have got to understand something, this has been a long hard journey for me and I have looked up one road and down another for healing, for enlightenment, for change. But as many times as I have tried, I have failed, and every single time I get back on my feet I fall even farther down. Everything I have done for the past two years has been a struggle to me, even down to waking up in the morning or making myself something to eat. Struggle, difficulty, and pain are the air I breathe and to tell you the truth I can’t figure out why. I don’t understand why. Well I know “why”, it’s because I am sick. Its because my synapses are fried and my brain isn’t working right. Its because my genetic make-up, because every single person that I have ever met or just heard of on both sides of my family have been diagnosed with some form of mental illness, mostly depression but some more severe. One being my own biological father who has Borderline Multiple Personality Disorder, depression, and anxiety. I’ve inherited this illness. But the question I ask of the Lord is why. Why do you want me to be this way? Why have you left me like this when I have tried so hard, fought so hard, loved so hard? What else is it that you want me to do? Who else is it that you want me to be? What else do you want me to say? Why can’t I be healed?
But back to the story. So I sunk low… real low… lower even then when I actually tried to commit suicide… heck I didn’t even know it was possible to go lower than that. It was like all the pain of the last few months decided to let itself lose on my psyche in one weekend… and eventually I realized that I no longer had control of my own mind, that I was slipping in and out of rational thought. I had violent uncontrollable images dancing in my head and some very strong urges to do something violent to myself. I could see myself hanging from ceiling rafters or laying dead in the bathtub with long lines cut into my wrists. And it wasn’t ok. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think. So I called a friend, and then I called my mom per my friend’s instruction, then my mom came home from work and we called my insurance company. Then we went to the hospital. It was nerve wracking. Going up to the front desk and saying you want to be screened to see if you need to be checked in, filling out paperwork, telling the nurse that you can no longer be trusted with your own safety, knowing that there is a possibility you wont be able to leave depending on what you say. Then they have you sign at the dotted line and they take you back behind locked doors and you kiss your loved ones goodbye. At the nurses station the make you strip down to your chonies and they check your body for bruises and scars. Then they take your shoelaces away and give you a pair of hospital socks. Then you wait. You wait for things to start making sense again. You wait for someone to come and give you some type of pharmecudical, you wait for your blood pressure to be taken. You just wait.
It was pretty frightening the first night. I mean most of the people in there have much more severe outward representations of their mental illnesses than I do. For example, there was one lady who had actually stabbed herself through the heart several times. I mean like taking the knife and actually pushing all the way in, several times. Another girl had been molested and raped by her grandfather from time that she was three until she was seventeen. She was a cutter and a bulimic, her arms and her legs were basically scar tissue and the word failure was carved into her shin. Some of them were looking at me like why the heck was I there, and maybe I should just go home to my mommy. So it was hard to fit in at first, and trust me, you don’t want to be the odd man out at a mental hospital… its already bad enough that you cant talk to or see anybody you know… you don’t really want to sit alone at lunch too. Or at least I don’t.
Group therapy was challenging (I have many funny anecdotes if you ever want to hear any), I talked to like four doctors and day and had to somehow adjust to the severe side effects of my new medication. It was interesting. Its hard to even describe my experiences there because it was so different from anything else. It was outside of the normal beat of life, my only responsibility was to my own mental health, literally every other concern was taken care of for me. I needed it, really bad. As scary and as difficult as it was, I just couldn’t handle life anymore. There were nice nurses and mean ones, good days and bad ones. I led a prayer group, had the opportunity to pray over a couple of people and share the Word with them. I had people coming up to me and asking me questions about the Lord. I think I even caught the nurses’ attention, they were surprised to see our prayer requests written up on the whiteboard. I stayed for four days.
When I was released my psychiatrist told me to be careful, that the first week after being released from the hospital is when most people successfully commit suicide, that if I was having any suicidal ideations to seek emergency care. And it was a very hard week. My medication was making it difficult for me to even chew my food, I had to do everything slowly and methodically and with great care not to overload myself. I was exhausted and had killer stomach aches and a fogginess of mind. This last Friday marked the one week point and it is true what the doctor said. I was full of suicidal ideations. I wanted to drive my car off the road several times late at night. I spent a good half hour in the booze aisle contemplating what it would be like to drink my sorrows away. I scratched up my arm with my fingernails to see if I could have the cojones to draw blood. So if I haven’t been staying in contact… I am sorry. I am my own little irrational world right now, fighting for survival. I need time. Time for the meds to kick in and time to try to finish my classes and keep my job. Time to try to stay afloat.
This weekend things have taken an unexpected turn for the worse. The gradual improvement of my health has slowed to a stop, and I fear it is even reversing direction. If I haven't returned your phone calls, your comments, or your emails, at least now you know why. I am not here to get them. I have gone away. To quote one of my very favorite movies...
"Naomi? Naomi is not here. There is no Naomi. Naomi is disappeared."
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Dear "friend", I am mad.
I am so angry. you see... i have come to a realization... i have found a small bit of insight in to why i get so burned out. you see... i have a whole lot of people that are counting on me showing up in their lives but none who are willing to take the time in the effort to show up in mine. and im FURIOUS!! i get to hang out with you because i drive you somewhere, help you with your homework or your job, or just make the effort to stop by your place. i get to hang out with you because im involved in the lives of your whole family and i try to encourage you when you are down and i go to you where you are. i eat lunch with you where you are. and im sick of it. because when was the last time you came to my house? when was the last time you said... hmmm... i wonder if angela needs some encouragement let me call her up and ask her how her day is going? what does angela need from me? what is my part of this relationship? when was the last time you ate dinner with my family? all i need is someone to show me some stinkin tlc! but no one even takes the time to think about it. well thanks for everything peeps... you're freaking sucking me dry.
angela
*please note: i was just released from a psychiatric hospital yesterday. i am feeling kind of angry right now because no one really took the time to visit me, no one sent me a get well card, and most certainly no one has given me a hug. and there were plenty of people who knew i was there. but i guess pleasantries are wasted on me, i am just fine the way i am right? no need to go out of your way. i am upset because i am hurting so bad. i am upset because i am sick out of my mind right now and i can barely move... and.... and it just comes down to this; if i stopped reaching out to you, you would be angry at first, and then you would accept that i was gone. aint nobody is gonna fight for me. they always let me make the first move.
**please also note: this "letter" is not meant for everyone, so upon reading please dont assume automatically that it is meant towards you. because then you might be someone that i am not infact mad at thinking that i am mad at you, which would not be true.
***one more note: but if you are sitting there reading this... and you feel as if you are one of "those" people... i am sorry. i wanted to be your friend, i wanted to know who you are, i wanted to love you and care for you but i cant anymore. i am just too sick.
for now,
angela
angela
*please note: i was just released from a psychiatric hospital yesterday. i am feeling kind of angry right now because no one really took the time to visit me, no one sent me a get well card, and most certainly no one has given me a hug. and there were plenty of people who knew i was there. but i guess pleasantries are wasted on me, i am just fine the way i am right? no need to go out of your way. i am upset because i am hurting so bad. i am upset because i am sick out of my mind right now and i can barely move... and.... and it just comes down to this; if i stopped reaching out to you, you would be angry at first, and then you would accept that i was gone. aint nobody is gonna fight for me. they always let me make the first move.
**please also note: this "letter" is not meant for everyone, so upon reading please dont assume automatically that it is meant towards you. because then you might be someone that i am not infact mad at thinking that i am mad at you, which would not be true.
***one more note: but if you are sitting there reading this... and you feel as if you are one of "those" people... i am sorry. i wanted to be your friend, i wanted to know who you are, i wanted to love you and care for you but i cant anymore. i am just too sick.
for now,
angela
Saturday, March 29, 2008
princess
inside of me i have always wanted to be a princess. you know a beautiful maiden who runs around in a feild full of flowers and sings with the birds. full of sweetness and purity and beauty. now, i am under the recognization that every little girl just like myself probably dreams for the same thing. but not everyone can be princesses can they? i dont know. i do know on the other hand, that a princess is exactly what i am not. i am all jagged around the edges and my voice cracks at the high notes and there are definately no fields of flowers anywhere near me. but with that understanding in mind... i cant decide what to do. do i let go of the dream, do i realize that its all a fairy tale and wake up to the real world? or do i continue to live under the belief that i might someday magically become the princess i wish to be? what is the real world?
i have come to know and expect that nothing truly good can happen to me or my family. thats just how it has been. i go to sleep one night and the next morning i wake up to find chaos and tears and tragedy. my mother has been beaten, abused, demeaned, manipulated, torn down by so many men, now she is married for the fourth time and i just couldnt see how it could be truly good. i mean how sad is that that i dont even believe in true love anymore? but i am starting to see some really good stuff coming out of their marriage and it almost frightens me. it challenges the way i think. is it really possible that something could be good and true and not a lie, not a pleasant mask that hide a monster of deception and theivery? everyday i realize that i am even more messed up than i thought i was. today i discovered that i do not believe in love, good things, happiness, and i most certainly do not believe that anyone could love me. i look down at myself and all i see is ugliness, distortion, selfishness, and pride. who taught me that? who made me look at myself that way?
the other thing i know about princess, is that even through years of being locked up in a tower, even through years of working and slaving for her evil stepmother, a princess never gives up hope, never gives up on her dreams. she always knows in her heart that her prince will come.
but on the issue of my hope, on the issue of my dreams, even the Lord Almighty has been silent. when i ask the ceiling if i am beautiful, there is no reply. there is no reply from anyone. at the end of the day i feel like maybe there is just nobody out there who thinks i am worth the pursuit, worth the trouble. today i saw myself in so many revealing lights, and i can find no reason or justification within my being to believe i am anything other than a experiment in dreamers gone wrong, and i am just simply going to have to accept that there is no fairy tale waiting for me on the other side of this mess. to me, to me that almost means there is nothing worth living for. and that may sound totally stupid to you because maybe you dont give a damn about princess and flowers and singing. but i do. this is who i am. and you can go live in your real world while i die in mine.
i have come to know and expect that nothing truly good can happen to me or my family. thats just how it has been. i go to sleep one night and the next morning i wake up to find chaos and tears and tragedy. my mother has been beaten, abused, demeaned, manipulated, torn down by so many men, now she is married for the fourth time and i just couldnt see how it could be truly good. i mean how sad is that that i dont even believe in true love anymore? but i am starting to see some really good stuff coming out of their marriage and it almost frightens me. it challenges the way i think. is it really possible that something could be good and true and not a lie, not a pleasant mask that hide a monster of deception and theivery? everyday i realize that i am even more messed up than i thought i was. today i discovered that i do not believe in love, good things, happiness, and i most certainly do not believe that anyone could love me. i look down at myself and all i see is ugliness, distortion, selfishness, and pride. who taught me that? who made me look at myself that way?
the other thing i know about princess, is that even through years of being locked up in a tower, even through years of working and slaving for her evil stepmother, a princess never gives up hope, never gives up on her dreams. she always knows in her heart that her prince will come.
but on the issue of my hope, on the issue of my dreams, even the Lord Almighty has been silent. when i ask the ceiling if i am beautiful, there is no reply. there is no reply from anyone. at the end of the day i feel like maybe there is just nobody out there who thinks i am worth the pursuit, worth the trouble. today i saw myself in so many revealing lights, and i can find no reason or justification within my being to believe i am anything other than a experiment in dreamers gone wrong, and i am just simply going to have to accept that there is no fairy tale waiting for me on the other side of this mess. to me, to me that almost means there is nothing worth living for. and that may sound totally stupid to you because maybe you dont give a damn about princess and flowers and singing. but i do. this is who i am. and you can go live in your real world while i die in mine.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
i watched i am legend tonight. it was not that good for me because a lot of the movie was centered around robert neville's intense loneliness. when he was in the video store saying hello to the manequin after his dog died... and he started crying and begging the manequin to say hello back... man that hit me right in the heart. there are points when i really feel like that. like i am sitting in my car and i am just crying and i just want to hear from someone anyone i just want someone to say hello back. loneliness... i think it must be the deepest rooted problem of my soul because i can never stop thinking about it... i am more lonely around friends sometime then i am when i am just sitting by myself. there is something inside of me that is just so untouched, so unreached, so unloved. i feel like i havent been touched in years. i miss hugs, shoulders to cry on, honestly caring and compassionate physical representations of affection. i miss kisses. as revealing as that is to say on a post... its absolutely true. i miss protective arms. although i dont really know how i can miss those things because ive only really tasted and seen quickly passing shadows of the real things. so maybe missing isnt the right word, maybe its just more of a longing for things i have never known.
im am sure even as i am writing this that there are multitudes of people out there who are longing for the same things. there is probably another girl about my age very near by sitting at her computer and imaging strong and warm arms just coming around her and saying everything is going to be ok. sometimes that is how i get through my day. imagination.
im am sure even as i am writing this that there are multitudes of people out there who are longing for the same things. there is probably another girl about my age very near by sitting at her computer and imaging strong and warm arms just coming around her and saying everything is going to be ok. sometimes that is how i get through my day. imagination.
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