three

blog posts, msn, facebook = communication. what the fuck has it come too? a babysitter - to come there. not ONE single person I know would condone me coming TO you, and they would especially not come babysit for me, to enforce it happening. Your dreaming.

3 days. I'm leaving for 3 days. What happens after that is all up to interpretation.

but you ain't leaving without a fight

I lay my head down, take a deep breathe, let the tears flow from my eyes, stinging my cheeks as they run down the carved out path. Continue breathing, hold back the shaking, clutch something to stop it. Curl my legs up into my stomach and wrap my arms around them, hold them in close. Choke back the sobs that are creeping up through my throat - begging to be released. Bury my face in the sweater balled up at the top of the bed, it still smells like you. The hours pass, I come in and out of sleep. Restless, haunted by nightmares that always feel too real. Baby wakes, I pull him in close and hush him back to sleep... roll away and lay with my eyes closed shut, holding in everything, holding up nothing. Fall asleep, for an amount of time I couldn't possibly record. Wake to a wet pillow, and realize the tears did not stop while I slept. Get up, and start all over again.

is he different, has he changed - or is he just a liar, with nothing to lie about.

BAM. Explosion. And I'm to do what? Oh yeh, pick up all the fucking pieces. Put it all back together, by myself, in the rain no less. And then when I admit defeat, acknowledge that maybe it's just too much to do alone - I am once again, at fault. So what I am to do when it's always wrong in your eyes? You can't ask someone for the world but keep the gravity for yourself. So I do what I can, keep to myself - and mend the broken hearts. I'm starting to come to terms with the sad truth that if I can't trust one thing, I probably shouldn't count on trusting much. Words are cheap, and I'm running out of time. I've left it all open, I've kept a place for you - but eventually, there come's a point where you have to work to keep a place just given to you. Not everything can be handed on a silver platter. Stand up and fight - show me the person I found in the beginning, before it all fell down.

speechless

there are no words that could efficiently describe the intense and relentless emotions that course through me these days. i feel like i've said it all, i've done my best to acknowledge, and begin dealing with, the surface problems. but there are no right moves when your standing in the middle of a mine field. it's just a matter of waiting for it all to blow up in your face.

you take whats yours and ill take whats mine

pretend that it wont change anything for them, we both know it will. anything to give you an upper hand. this incessant need for control over the daily course of life is only getting in the way, and stopping any progress. so whose to say they're not better off? i don't believe the thick and poison laced whispers that escape from your pursed lips. i don't trust the vague attempts. i don't understand the cruel and vile temperament. and once again, here i am - left with nothing, but everything at the same time. here i am, expected to make my mark... when i'm all dried up and i don't have any juice left to move onwards. and i'll watch them grow, without someone who promised forever. if it's not great, it's not good enough.

all wrong

I am listening hard, through the splintering shards, of my life, as it shatters. I go through the motions, and it feels all wrong. Nothing fits, nothing seems to flow anymore. And somewhere I feel as though I am missing something important. You'd say I'm missing you, you'd say I made this choice. Who is to prove you wrong? I'm certainly in no position, no state-of-mind to be proving much of anything. You've heard it all before, so have I. Still, we don't move forward. If anywhere, we go back - and mull in the puddles of memory. and I miss the smile I found on my face on cold nights like this. But I now am in a position of questioning 'did you ever bring that smile?'

countermove

and out of the corner of my eye, I saw it. all-too familiar, and immediately I could relate - felt her cheeks flush, sweaty palms and anxious/nervous laugh > anything to cover up the pain. and in that moment it dawned on me - I am not the only one who goes through the ritual of being pushed down, pushed aside, pushed away. she saw me watching, I didn't mean to watch, and so she retorted - told him something demeaning to divert from the hurt he had caused. something to fight back with, anything to not feel like the victim. and I often find myself wondering if I'm crazy, like I may be losing my mind - because I keep making moves and it's always met with a countermove. there is always something that puts the blame on me, or if not - it comes down to this being my choice, therefore everything that comes from it is also my fault. Equality is all I have ever been after - a little bit of recognition, some appreciation, but mostly just an equal share of the respect, affection and trust that I put forth. and it's so hard to read, so hard to be honest with myself about - but I can't rape myself of the questioning that has to come from this. there is no base, and you can't get a base without trust - and there is no trust. we are going to start from nothing - there is no other way.

more

So much coursing through my veins, so much emotion and pain. But I'm not meant to feel sadness, I'm meant to feel guilt - this is MY fault. I've done this, I've forced this. So I don't dare cry, don't dare show my face of contorted disbelief - this is my fault. And we will forget about the days and weeks and months that lead up to this, we will put that somewhere in the back, let it sit and sink in. And what am I suppose to do now? What is left in this pile of rubble and ash and destruction? Everything has been said and sorted and acknowledged. But somehow here we are right at the beginning again and nothing seems to make a difference. I don't want to fight it, I want to fight for it. I want to know that something will come of this. But I am worn so thin, so barely making it through the day. And for what? I say I want to fight for it, but I'm not certain I know what I'm fighting for anymore. There is so little time, only a whole life time ahead... and the days go so quickly. Look at that boy. LOOK at him. You and I created such an incredible human being - such a force, a beauty. And it took everything out of me. And it will continue to take everything - and every turn that I could take looks so bleak, so bland and undesirable. I promised myself that I would NEVER let it come to this again, never let my path get so narrow and nauseating. I tried so hard, fought with every ounce of energy I could reserve - and still, it was not enough. I wonder when I will know how to admit this is not just my fault.

this tag of war, you'll always win

On the first page of our story
The future seemed so bright
Then this thing turned out so evil
I don't know why I'm still surprised
Even angels have their wicked schemes
And you take that to new extremes
But you'll always be my hero
Even though you've lost your mind

Just gonna stand there and watch me burn
But that's alright because I like the way it hurts
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry
But that's alright because I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie
Ohhh, I love the way you lie

Now there's gravel in our voices
Glass is shattered from the fight
And this tug of war, you'll always win
Even when I'm right
'Cause you feed me fables from your head
With violent words and empty threats
And it's sick that all these battles
Are what keeps me satisfied

Just gonna stand there and watch me burn
But that's alright because I like the way it hurts
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry
But that's alright because I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie
Ohhh, I love the way you lie

So maybe I'm a masochist
I try to run but I don't wanna ever leave
Til the walls are goin' up
In smoke with all our memories

It's morning, you wake, a sunray hits your face
Smeared makeup as we lay in the wake of destruction
Hush baby, speak softly, tell me you're awfully sorry
That you pushed me into the coffee table last night
So I can push you off me
Try and touch me so I can scream at you not to touch me
Run out the room and I'll follow you like a lost puppy
Baby, without you, I'm nothing, I'm so lost, hug me
Then tell me how ugly I am, but that you'll always love me
Then after that, shove me, in the aftermath of the
Destructive path that we're on, two psychopaths but we
Know that no matter how many knives we put in each other's backs
That we'll have each other's backs, 'cause we're that lucky
Together, we move mountains, let's not make mountains out of molehills,
You hit me twice, yeah, but who's countin'?
I may have hit you three times, I'm startin' to lose count
But together, we'll live forever, we found the youth fountain
Our love is crazy, we're nuts, but I refused counsellin'
This house is too huge, if you move out I'll burn all two thousand
Square feet of it to the ground, ain't shit you can do about it
With you I'm in my f-ckin' mind, without you, I'm out it

Just gonna stand there and watch me burn
But that's alright because I like the way it hurts
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry
But that's alright because I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie

this time

When you want something to happen, the last thing you want to do is fight against what will make it happen. What is there to be accomplished from screaming into the receiver, claiming your property? Telling me how wrong I am, how I'm the one making the wrong choice. Despite ones opinion on another persons choices, it is still that persons choice and cramming your opinion down their throat is not the way to go about changing it. Go slowly, show the change, be secure in yourself - the confidence will come through on it's own. It's slow, it's painful - but it would be worth it. Maybe it's not? Maybe I'm wrong in thinking this is really what you want. If you're not working for it, it's likely lacking substance. It takes work, it takes time - and unfortunately the deadline has come and gone. So now we start over, start fresh - and work from the bottom up. There's room for error, there's room for experimentation - but there is no more room for stubborn angry jealous and controlling shit. The part of me that once accepted that is no longer here, she flew away when you walked out the door. Now is the time to bring the goods to the table, take the opportunity to be the person in our lives we so need and deserve. Come happy, come bearing gifts and love and gratitude. Come. But don't push me down, push me around, push me aside. I'm not backing down, this time.

flames

I watched it, as the flames began to flicker. It seemed such a unique thing, this tiny light beginning from nowhere. As if fire itself was something new and amazing to me. As the weeks went by, the flame grew and grew - to the size of a wood stove fire. Beautiful, lots of warmth and energy. And then, it caught the corner of a curtain. Licked it, just enough to make the flames jump and create a bigger flame. Before I knew it, the house was on fire. I stood there, watching it devour everything I knew, everything I held dear. My whole persona, gone... eaten up by the flames. And then, the inevitable. I am now watching it die out, watching the last flames flicker in the light. Mostly rubbish now, a big heaping mass of a burnt up life. I want to capture one of the remaining flames, nurture it and keep it safe. Watch it grow into a pleasant, warming, beautiful glow once more. The problem is, I don't think I can. I don't think that after this - I don't think I much like working with fire anymore.

hurt

I hurt myself today,
to see if I still feel.
I focus on the pain,
the only thing that's real.
The needle tears a hole,
the old familiar sting.
Try to kill it all away,
but I remember everything.
What have I become?
My sweetest friend.
Everyone I know,
goes away in the end.
And you could have it all,
my empire of dirt.

I will let you down,
I will make you hurt.

I wear this crown of thorns,
upon my liar's chair.
Full of broken thoughts,
I cannot repair.
Beneath the stains of time,
the feelings disappear.
You are someone else.
I am still right here.

What have I become?
My sweetest friend.
Everyone I know,
goes away in the end.
And you could have it all,
my empire of dirt.

I will let you down.
I will make you hurt.

If I could start again,
a million miles away.
I would keep myself.
I would find a way.

forfucksakes.

and for a moment I believed that the direction in which we wander had changed, steered far enough to the right that we would not fall into the circular dance. I was wrong, and it's discouraging. along the lines of 'whatthefucksthepointanyways'. nothing to say, nothing to do - just pile up the resentment inside this closet of flesh and bones until the weight of it kills me. now that's a compromise, if I've ever heard one :|

new beginnings.

and like a fool, i truly believed it would all just fall into place. blindly I marched into the next chapter hoping for the best... but really, what was I expecting? I couldn't tell you. Some understanding, some room.. to do some for me. So deprived of creativity and fresh air to breathe in and breathe out. I just want a little spot for my own air to breathe. I've got it coming, a corner in the big palace of a home that will soon be ours. And there is a part of me hoping that it will change things. So naive. What doesn't take work, doesn't mean much. I know this somewhere amongst all the things I don't have time for. Somewhere in my head there is logic, understanding, hope. Stolen moments that I'll hold onto with both hands, white knuckles. It's just a jumble of thoughts and memories, and I can't really tell you what it means anymore. I suppose I can't really say a whole lot, but I'm excited and I'm nervous and I'm really, truly, honestly hoping for good things coming. We've earned it.

illusionist.

too personal. and where will that get me? what good has ever come from wearing my heart on my sleeve? my throat is sore and my voice is tired and i find myself wondering what the point is anymore. what service does it do, aside from leaving me feeling empty and raped of my pride?

... is that what it's come down too? just surrendering my integrity? what a shame. what a damn fucking shame. when the hell did I become so bendable - allowing myself to sacrifice what I hold dear and important for some illusion of security. so much brewing anger, and it just gets suppressed to the point that I wonder what I'm even doing that's productive. how can I do anything without letting that filter into it?

My uncertainty is frightening. I can't help but wonder - but never really looking deep enough to feel gratified, scared of what I might find. And please don't think for a moment that I'm not satisfied in the work I do. I know, my children are loved and well-cared for. I know, that I am good, made from solid bones and raised with the right mind. what was that you said? how can you make someone else happy, if you can't be happy yourself. tell me how.

whose to say.

there is no end in sight. it's just a long, long road and u-turns are prohibited. so keep moving, keep watching and walking and running and singing and thinking. keep your mind open and roll with it. and we will all come for the journey - and we will all learn something from it, it will teach us all. maybe it will harden us, or maybe it will make us weak in the knees. whose to say? i just know one thing is for certain... it's inevitable, the journey. you can not stop time, for it will continue on with out you and keep going long after you have fallen behind. and so you must roll, or it will suck you in and spit you out. and whose to say it isn't for the best? whose to say. i only hope that we keep our eyes open and know when to keep our mouths shut. know when to roll and when to run. know how to stop and when to say thank you, and sorry. i can only do so much before i am unrelenting. and i hope that it is all worth it once it's eventually over. for every beginning must come to some beginnings end. and then a new chapter will begin, and the process will inevitably start again. but whose to say, it isn't only just beginning?

i know but one freedom, and that is the freedom of the mind.

the work of deceiving yourself is that of such tactic and skill that I am surprised so many of us futile human beings can pull it off. the spins and twirls and flips you must perform, it really should be classified as an art form. and yet, despite the grueling process of learning how to do it with skill, we continue on to deceive. it get's to the point where we even believe our own bullshit - and really, if we're not even on our own team.. who will be? so on goes the dance of deceit and the sad reality that our own bullshit is believable to us... so when do we stop? when does it become too hard to keep up with, too much strain on our sanity? I suppose we'd have to stop just the same way we started, but reversed. because I've learned that the truth is even harder to accept, for most. who want's to hear that it's all bullshit? we are pre-programmed (via society, our peers, the media..) to 'see no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil.' and if we're being frank - that's the point, right? it's all too fucking hard to hear. and so in the end, it's a choice - you can go on deceiving yourself, and believing your own bullshit... or you can wake the fuck up, and start living. your choice.

and he, made three.

such a thoughtful heart for a 6 year old. And I guess I would be held accountable for it, my whole being has been devoted to her since the day I felt her move from within me. From the first moment I knew it was real, she was real. And so, she is a thoughtful, caring and genuine human being. She worries, so I can be held accountable for that as well I'd assume. However, she has a head on those shoulders that will move mountains and for that I'm happy - the strength and devotion in that little mind could conquer a fair bit, I'd think. How am I to know, really? I just watch, and admire. And so she paves the way for the 3 year old, who is always eager and willing to follow in the steps... but won't miss the chance to stray and do it her own way. A fighter in her heart of hearts. So easily distressed, tears pouring while she nervously fights them back - another trait I'll be held accountable for. the nervous tears. and then there is the little one who has found the one thing that ensures I am by his side night and day, and who in their right mind can place blame? Last in pecking order, nurse it for all it's worth. always smiling, though - a generally mellow babe. I'd say I'm lucky, but I'm afraid luck hasn't much to do with it. Lots of lovin and laughin, though.

sharp edge

like walking on glass, holding breath, intense concentration. it's a sad old tale of a grander song, more laughter and less worry. all the great expectation diminishes with the sharp edge of realities. I wonder sometimes if it's ever enough, and I suppose I won't know for many years to come. Who can say? There is no scale to measure life's achievement, or lack thereof. And so I'm left to my own devices - left to the madness of my mind. and what's to be made of such a thing? I suppose there isn't much, or I'd be farther ahead than behind from when I started. Perhaps I am ahead, but mostly it feels like a constant lag. Vocal cords slit, leaving a constant gasping - nothing much to say. Not lack of something to say, more so, lacking the ability. And what's the point if every moment isn't cherished? What is a life of constant bustle, no time to stop and enjoy? It's a damn shame, a waste. And so a resolve would be to walk slower, think simpler, enjoy more and laugh often - but some days (I'm content to say it's not most) it just seems like more energy than I can spare.

running low

Time. Never enough - never when I want (need?) it. So much flowing through this head, so much stuck because there is breakfast to be made, and a screaming 6 month old at my feet who doesn't want to crawl around anymore. So alas, the words will wait - and my mind will be put on hold for another 12 hours. Here's hoping I remember what I was thinking, tonight.