one does not have to be logical all of the time. these walls are merely rubber bands.

everyone turns off sad songs. but don't they get it? the sadness feels so good.

someone I can sink into, who sinks into me, while we sink into the cotton below us. something that will consume me, cover me gently with its warmth and mother me like i'm its first child. depths of every kind, wanting more than to merely surface dive.

visions are foggy under water until goggles are aquired.

I feel like I am constantly thirsty for something that I will never get a sip of. I am in constant search of something that will fill me up and I have no idea what direction to even turn in to find it. Like I am lost in a corn maze with no way out. More so, like I am a little kid lost in a super market on the deli side and my mom is all the way on the other side looking at prices of milk. I don't know which way to turn to find her. I don't know which way to turn to find me. I am running with arms wide open, only to find myself having to befriend and love the air because it's the only presence that's ever constant and available. The air is simple and never boastful but the air is hollow and I need something solid. I need something that will harden me. but not too much.

I want to cut your heart open and spill your blood on my white clothes. I want to rip your heart out and pump it with my blood so that you can finally feel something. don't you want to feel something? I want to put your heart back into its correct spot and zip you back up and watch you walk away with a smile on your face, only to turn around and tell me you forgot your shoes, and later your shoelaces. As if you were so occupied with other masses that you had forgotten even which way you were going, or that the right pair of shoes would finally get you there.

everyone on tumblr just thinks theyre so different and unique and deeeeeeep. youre fucking ordinary like everyone elese!

dont make me sad
dont make me cry
sometimes life is not enough
and the road gets tough
I don't know why

My problem is you make me melt and I don't want to be frozen anymore

having an off week.
feeling like nothing is going anywhere. feeling stagnant. feeling like my skin is see through and my veins are twisting and contorting around each other, getting purple, cutting off my oxygen. I am always in the same spot and can't seem to get out. my feet are stuck in mud, just a couple of feet away from where I was stuck before. nothing is happening. nothing is on, and everything is off. I am tired of feeling this way but I am the most scared I have ever been for anything in my entire life and all I have to do is make a decision. I am confused, lost, sad, excited, nervous, defeated. You aren't going anywhere and we aren't going anywhere and my feet are stuck and my eyes are all over the place and my head is tipping over and my water is spilling or lacking I Can't even decide which one it is. womp. I want to escape escape escape or be filled with rainbows or warmth or something that will make me feel any way but this way. any way but this way

the thing about writing is that it's never good enough. the words on the screen or on the paper are never the proper or completely correct semi-tangible form of an emotion. the writer continuously wants more from their words. the writer screams and fights with the words but they do not change. to be a writer one must be open and senseless and completely cage-less. comparisons cannot be made and expectations cannot be given. to be a writer the concept of nothing must take shape as the comfortable concept of everything. if this does not happen, no writing will occur. smile lines will fade and insecurities will grow sharp teeth. the rest is history after that.

my skin screams for the attention of yours. its particles running wildly in place, aching to detach themselves from the woven silk strings created by a heart within. his feet are visible, palms towards the sky. strong and cracked, exposing the days hard work. the bird inside my chest wants to flutter out of my throat and into yours. the bird wants to share its seeds in both of us.

half liquid solids become icicles on the inside of my fingertips. I have fallen out of the earth and ended up in invisible matter. I am invisible matter. the sadness fills me and covers me, as if it's the water surrounding me as I stand at the bottom of a 6 foot deep pool. they say this is not supposed to feel good and this is not supposed to work but the sadness comforts me and I welcome it more than any other visitor. My bone marrow is a mix of my own liquids and the grayness of those eyes. I fell open, sitting under its words that scratch my skin in all of its itchy places. A sigh of relief if exhaled from parted lips. I fell under.

my insides are a mix of black and white words painted on black or white backgrounds. the context matters and the sun always manages to peek through the cracks in the pavement. my insides swirl in negative and positive ways, combining together to form gray matter that is heavy and weighs me down. my heart is red and beating lively, there is contradiction here. eyes droop but absorb the sunlight. limbs are stretched but never used.

what I immediately want to feel with no logical thought process or analysis is

I can't write
I can't concentrate
I can't decide what to do with my life
I can't love
I can't open myself up to find love
I can't keep love
I can't believe in myself
I can't keep saying I can't

why do I feel like you won't let me care about you? I want to care about someone. I Want to care about you. I don't want to focus on me anymore. I miss leaving notes underneath someones pillow. I miss smiling for no reason other than the energy shared between me and the other person is so comfortable, warm, and natural, that all I want to do is smile and smile and smile. I want to feel small and large again all the same time. most of all I want to feel red, like an apple, the apple of your eye. of someones eyes. (you is slightly less bottomless and meaningless but it is still there. ideas>the actual, right now. you get me?) I don't want this to fizzle away and float like wood on water to a far away place that we'll never see again. we haven't even ignited anything and the flame is dying before it's lit. it was never meant to be lit at all. if I say something drastic, will it scare you? do you care enough for it to scare you?

I really feel lost and have no clue how I am supposed to be found. If I knew the thing to do I would do that thing I need to do but I don't know what thing I do need to do so I haven't been doing that thing. uh.

I feel like we are magnets. We relate because we are metal and we are solid but our negative ends are facing each other and we are repelling, pulling farther away, is that is even possible. we are going nowhere, forcing the electrons outside. never forcing the electrons inside their comfort zone where they want to be. it feels so good to be so opposite. will it ever be that way? what will be that final push needed to turn the one magnet around? something's gotta give or I shall walk. my shoes are new. my shoes are fresh. my shoes have tred. I am fucking alive, god damnit. I don't need to be bored and unstimulated.

how can someone be in search of something without knowing what they are searching for?
(what?)

I am
bored
I need
stimulation
In more ways
than one
I want
to feel something
I want
our souls to dissapear into thin air and
our bodies to mesh and
then
melt
I gotta get
a move on.

is there a such thing as a really good but
happy
writer?

this book I am reading makes me want to do bad things to people that I care about but that don't care about me just to show I have a power.


........
.......
......
.....
....
...
..



that is the stupidest thing I have ever said in my life.

my insides long for something. for meaning, I guess. for purpose. I long for passion and goals. I feel invisible, lost, useless.


I want to find my road. I am walking in circles.

Suddenly I feel sad again.

revive me

IJUSTWANTOFEELSOMETHING

the thing is that nothing is fucking concise and there is no theme anywhere involved.
I hate everything I write. I hate it I hate it I hate it.

Home

she tried to explain to me that she wanted to go home but her home was far away from where we were. her home was burnt down and the doors and all the windows were paneled shut with wooden boards. her home was no longer there. she had no home.

we were just driving around in my old truck. our search for a party was unsuccessful and the ice cream parlors had closed hours before so we decided to just drive. I don't know where we were driving to or why we even had to drive but I guess in a way that was somehow relevant to the way our lives were unraveling. I wasn't the happiest person in the world but I was happy when I was with her, and that's all that really mattered in my eyes. She just wanted to go home.

We drove through familiar neighborhoods. We drove past the park we had both been to dozens of times during elementary school. We drove past the train stations. We drove past the familiar houses of old friends that we had lost touch with. We drove past the familiar lights of the stores and their signs. We drove until we no longer knew where we were. We stopped in some abandoned parking lot that superseded a long patch of grass. The air smelled different and the sky was clear. The stars were out.

I started to imagine where the people I loved were at what they were doing at this current moment. My mother sleeping on the couch, the couches half covering her and half falling off. My father upstairs in a fog of sleepy consciousness. My brother, slowly losing his head more and more to the wrath her created for himself. Withering away in a jail cell until we couldn't wither away anymore.

I kind of felt bad for everyone. They were so stuck in their ways, so caged by their circumstances. Nobody was comfortable and everything was full of shit. There was no home for me. But I was still young and free, ready to see the world and stretch my limbs. I didn't want to be like them. I didn't want to feel my insides deteriorate as my mind yelled at me to keep going. I wanted unison, harmony. I wanted to be grounded and centered.

Together, with our hands interlocked and our eyes and feet set forward, her and I would run the world together. We had a dream and we wanted it to become a reality, her and I. I wanted her and I wanted all of her and I hoped to god she felt the same way. I hoped she felt the same.

I turned over on my side in order to allow myself to look into her eyes. For a brief second she looked like she wanted to cry, but as our eyes met and the centers of our pupils locked into place, she smiled a gentle smile and it looked as if she had become overwhelmed with inner peace. "What is it?" I asked. "What is it?"

She nuzzled her head against my shoulder, kissing my ears and holding me close. "I need you. I want you. I love you. You are my home. I need you."

I don't know why she decided to say it then. I don't know how or why but at that moment it was as if I was lifted off of the earth and floating on a dense cloud with her and only her. It was like being a world in which you can only see the people you love. She was the one I loved. We only had each other. I didn't need to know anything else. I didn't need to want anything or need anything else and for a couple seconds I could have sworn I felt out hearts beating in unison. I felt our blood pumping at the same rate. It was unlike anything I had ever felt before.

She wanted to go home and I wanted to go home and together, we were our home.

1 picture a day for atleast a year.

writing prompts of the day.

?????





I wish I could change the URL. I hate it.

who am I? You should tell me because I have no idea.



to exist as a person, doesn't one need opinions? I have none of those.

what happens when you read a book and when you're done you realize you didn't understand any of it and didn't learn/change a thing? then what do you do? how do you learn to understand it? do you put it down and wait years to pick it up again? I want to know.

IhavenoconfidenceandIreallyneedtolearnhowtogetsome

I sort of have this desire to hermit myself and just read and read and read until the books transition from the upstairs book shelf to the basement book shelf. Then I can get more. I really like to live vicariously. Hmm. Just thought of that.

A Brief Conversation

"What's good?"
"Nothing just got a shower. In bed. That's it"
"Early for you"
"Yeah I had a long day. And not a very good one either"
"Yeah you were tellin' me this morning."
"It got worse lol, but whatever."
"Damn but guess what?"
"What?
"You broke your all time amount of days living."

I screwed it all up. I messed everything up for the sake of nothing.

hate one thing, hate all things, hate yourself

I don't know what i'm doing. I don't know what i'm doing here. I don't know where I am going. I don't know anything.
things pile and pile and pile and I begin to feel crushed and crumbled by the pressure.
Where am I going? Where am I?

right now I am finding myself wanting to really back out of this. where is this going? what are we doing? why am I even here? this isn't exciting me. it's not drawing me, there is no deep blue here (yet). am I being impatient? I told you, I keep telling you, I have no idea how to do this and it freaks me out. I feel as if I am putting so much energy into it and getting almost nothing in return. is it because you are just a guy? is it because you are afraid? is it because you have been hurt before and you're scared to let your walls down? I'm scared too but I acknowledge it and feel it and know it's worth it for me to do so. I can't grow at all if I don't expose myself. plastic skin does nothing. it makes me sad when people don't understand that, or are too scared to admit it to themselves. but I want this to go somewhere. I want this to explain into a million colorful little pieces that can easily be put back together and formed into something beautiful. I think the one thing that gets to me so much is the fact that I have no idea how to feel about this situation. I don't like you but I want to get to know you. It makes me smile when I know I am going to see you but I have no idea how you feel about this whole thing or what this whole thing even is or even if there is a whole thing. I don't want to overthink it but I know that's what I am doing. I just don't even know. I don't know what you feel and I don't even know what I feel. I don't like the uncertainty and i kind of feel weird saying something because it's so early still. I don't know what to do. I always say slow and steady wins the race, and of course it does, but how long is too long...how slow is too slow? I wish someone had the answers. I wish this would explode or make me feel something. Do I expect too much? This makes me feel lost. This stuff freaks me out.

let this be known as the date I joined a dating site for the first time

let us dream

I talk of love as if it's everything or nothing or maybe even going to save me but it's not going to do that. it's not going to do that. Love is not the center, I don't think.



I don't think.

once I fall in love I will have successfully spilled my water onto the ground again, and the cycle will repeat. one must be ready to submerge themselves.

I wandered what love was. I wandered if love was in the birds that chirped on the first day of spring. I wandered if love was in the way a play grew when it was watered. I wondered if love was in the silhouette of a young girl. but with experience I had learned that love wasn't any of these things. Love wasn't detachment. It wasn't anger. It wasn't boastfulness. Love was comfort in its ultimate form. Love was when you ache for someone to be closer to you, knowing they can't get any closer. Love was when you long to rip yourself open from head to toe, yearning to house the person you love inside of you while they simultaneously do the same, housing you inside of them. Love was wanting to dive deeper into the bottoms, enter all the dwellings, but all the while knowing you've reached all there ever will be.

there is so much to do! so much life to seize and walk on!

I want all of it.

"I like you when, when you take off your face, put away all your teeth, and take us way underneath."

seems like everyone's got so much to say about the one that stays quiet.

time is the essence of all creation and slowly I can feel the deep blue seep back into my veins. slowly though. and I really do mean slowly.

his lips on her lips and her lips on his lips and their lips everywhere.

I mean, really what this is though is the fact that I saw pain in your smile and I felt inclined to want to suck it out of you. That's what I want to do to people. Turn into a vacuum and suck out their darkness. If one is incomplete or broken, I will love them.

a slightly awkward realization that my entire brain and thought patterns are posted in a combination and effortless swirl between blogspot, twitter, and tumblr. 20% tumblr, 30% twitter, 50% blogspot.

what is the ultimate difference between a boy and a man?

Wednesday's canvas is painted yellow and becoming stained with a boy's finger prints. the little boy is screaming for a way out of his cage, hoping, finally, that someone will hear him. his insides are turning, silently, and in such a familiar rhythm that he does not even notice. the heartbeat is so loud, the walls vibrate around him. all he can do is let out a slanted, overly revealing smile.

the scent stays but the heart does not yearn

I really just want to meet someone who is verbal, has a sly but clever way with word construction, and facial hair. where are youuuuuu?

some people have weird ass ways of showing girls they like them. hmm.

I feel close to nothing. I feel blank. Nothing, blank. It is weird. Yeah, that's it, it's weird. Feeling nothing and feeling blank...it's normal. And feeling normal is weird.

when I really think about it, it freaks me out. I'm not sure I really know how to give myself. It takes me such a long time to feel anything. do I over think that, too? maybe. The solution is just to stop thinking about it and let it happen. I guess i'm in the clear now but it still freaks me out. I find myself sort of wanting to turn and run away from it before it gets to be anything too deeply rooted. It is weird how past hurt can affect you in subconscious and subtle ways. That obviously is what this feeling of wanting to resist is. I definitely won't resist though, just take it slow. I really want to feel those butterflies again. My chest is not a cage and I am not a rat. I definitely can't over think this or I will destroy it entirely. Isn't it crazy that I have the capability of building a whole city in my head with the material made for just a couple houses? Something so small is diluted to create a liquid that spreads through three times its original capacity. There is beauty is such destruction, but even more throughout the avoidance of it.

Yeah.

slow and steady wins the race, so i'm just gonna buckle my seatbelt, sit back, and enjoy the ride.