Journals37
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unfeelings
2 min read
It's funny how not feeling is just as much a feeling as everything else and comes in as many varieties, if not more.
There is, of course, the cold, cynical unfeeling of a disillusioned being, or the repressed, resilient resistance of someone too stubborn to hurt.
Then there's that blissful lack of feeling present when perfectly content - no wild elation, no pressing sadness, no furious passion. Just you, and your breath, and the wonderful feel of negative space pressed between your fingertips and the sky and the ground and even the amorphous wind.
There are those who reject their feelings. Who let them be overruled by logic and reason. But this is often short-lived, swiftly chased away by fear, fear of being inhuman, fear of having no feeling; sometimes I think this fear is the only thing I CAN feel. Sometimes.
The worst unfeeling takes time. Desensitizing. The worst unfeeling comes after such intense, horrible pain that you'd think it'd be a relief just to stop. But it's not. It's just empty. Lonely. Because what good is feeling if there's no one left to share it with? What good is feeling if there's no one to understand?
But you're uneasy. You're uneasy and you almost want to hate yourself for letting go so quickly - who are you to surrender now - but you can't quite. You can't quite. You can't blame yourself. because who wants to feel?
So you don't.
So you sit, and you listen to the breath flood in and out of your lungs, and you wonder. You wonder if you could rip out your heart and replace it with a cold metal box and still feel more than you do right now.
And then, at the end of that exquisite emptiness, you stand up, you walk away, and you move on.
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musings and endings
1 min read
I have an obsession with happy endings.
Enough so that I'll make a mess, just so it can be shoddily shoved back in place.
And we call that happy.
We say, look.
Things aren't as bad as they could be.
Sometimes,
I don't even win
in my happy endings.
Sometimes it's just… poetic justice.
Or whatever you'd like to call it.
Irony.
Karma.
Fate.
Sometimes,
it's just about taking solace
in the fact that things are
as they should be.
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Cookie-Cutter Romances
2 min read
I wrote the following a couple of months ago when I liked this other guy. He was new and exciting at the time, and I thought something had changed in me. Something in the very nature of the way I loved.... or some cheesy bullcrap like that. Anyway, I moved on. Got over him like all the rest. But it's funny how viciously the cycle does repeat. We make a mistake, say Oops! How could I be so ignorant? swear we're not going to do it again.
Yet here I am, in the face of not having written in about four months, logging back on to untangle my feelings for the next in an endless parade of guys who I would swear up and down the coast of Africa is different, that my feelings are different, that something has changed within me. The funny thing is, had I not seen this little beauty first, I probably would have written the exact same thing.
Maybe it would have been a little different- a little more eloquent, delicate, verbose, illusory, whatever. It's always the same innards strung up in different packages. Maybe it could have even mushed itself up into something resembling a poem and broken my writer's block. But the point is, love is generic. We're so blind while we're in it, but I've never looked back on my feelings for someone without a laugh.
Untitled
I know everyone says that about everyone until it's completely cheesy and meaningless. But with you I mean it.
I just like you in such a different way than I've ever liked anyone else. I don't know if it's the fact that I'm older now, or if you're just special. And I don't know if I like this way better or not. For now, it's just that. Different.
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each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way."
Winter break.
Two weeks.
Quite an undertaking.
LET'S GO.
Winter break.
Two weeks.
Quite an undertaking.
LET'S GO.
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THE PAST. DUN DUN DUN.
1 min read
Yes. You ARE supposed to read that title in an intense voice with explosions and fireworks in the background.
Because the past is unnerving and scary, but also adorable.
Found huge boxes of photos from when I was under 3.... SO MUCH FUN.
Read through all my dA journals. *FACEPALM* I'm so weird.
I love the world. And singing. Mostly I love singing. Singing about the world. And how much I love it. And how much I love singing. And how weird I am.
AND I AM GOING TO WRITE SONGS.
BECAUSE I HAVE A FABULOUSLY DEVIOUS MASTER PLAN.
toodaloo~
Because the past is unnerving and scary, but also adorable.
Found huge boxes of photos from when I was under 3.... SO MUCH FUN.
Read through all my dA journals. *FACEPALM* I'm so weird.
I love the world. And singing. Mostly I love singing. Singing about the world. And how much I love it. And how much I love singing. And how weird I am.
AND I AM GOING TO WRITE SONGS.
BECAUSE I HAVE A FABULOUSLY DEVIOUS MASTER PLAN.
toodaloo~
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