when all you want to do is be skinny
the days don't matter, and the way the sun shines is never right
your dollar store tights are ripping and you don't care
the shirt you found in your brother's closet is too big and you like the way it envelopes you and hugs you and whispers that you'll never be too large for it
you just care about the next cigarette, and wonder what you'll do when the pack's empty
you find yourself blankly reading words, listening in conversations,
blankly
you answer the call of your next meal, tell the tea kettle to shush, end the whistling and the groaning and the growling
the mirror lies to you, widens you, you stare and stare and can't seem to understand what is going wrong, what isn't happening, when life will begin
your favorite jeans are falling off you and you don't notice
all you hear are lies, the comforting words that aren't so comforting
they're true but you don't want to hear
you just want to sit alone with your stupid cigarette and your stupid book and your stupid thoughts and your stupid life
the conversations are profound, and the education is high quality, ivy substance
but your parent's money can't erase and replace your stupid soul
the world becomes duller, viewed through sleepy red slits, life is a cloud and
you wish you could be a cloud
mmm unfinished, i think. i'd like to do something more with this. but whatever. if anyone was wondering, i no longer have a craving for donuts baaahahaha
About Me
- alia
- "too much stuff, too many places, too much information, too many people, too much of things for there to be too much of, there is too much to know and i don't know where to begin but i want to try."
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
stuck between places
i want donuts. and by "want donuts" i mean "fuck i need to lose 5 or 10 more pounds before i can even begin to think about eating a donut"
my pants don't fit right
my coffee is too sweet, not sweet enough
mad men is getting even more intense, i'm zoning out
i'm falling asleep in class. the professor asks questions, i know the answers, but instead of raising my hand and getting all this pent-up knowledge out, releasing all this brilliance, i keep it to myself, collect and collect and hoard and wait for the right moments that never come
i filled out the application, and meant every word, but now that i'm going back to that insomniac city, the words feel false, the tone turned bitter, as if the past me is playing a joke on present me
this time will be different, i keep telling myself,
and it will, but it won't
it's all already laid out before me like the mad writings of a lonely genius, nothing to do no one to see nowhere to go but deeper into research, burrow deeper into the hole of self-doubt, self-pity, a realm with no answers, only more scribbles and doodles and
questions with no answers
i've used the same camera for months, i couldn't load film into it last weekend
my hand shook, the cigarette fell
ash spewed onto my backseat
i'm happy, i have to be
right? because this isn't sadness
the way my throat gets dry and my mind wanders and my feet lead me to the kitchen,
this can't be sadness, right?
the way i take a few steps and turn around because in a few moments i convinced myself that i didn't want to go that way, that that way is not important
the way i hate everything i love
the way i run to you and the way i slap you in the face, shut the door, turn the lock
i've blindfolded myself - or maybe i was born this way - and stopped where i was months, years, maybe a decade ago
i stopped, and i'm standing
and i'm waiting for someone to lead the way
no i don't want someone to gently take me by the hand and say soothing words in my ear as i take small, delicate steps
no, fuck that shit.
for however long i've been standing here, someone occasionally comes by, does just that, whispers, gently leads, let's go when i'm ready, and somehow, somehow, somehow
somehow i find myself cemented to wherever they left me, wherever i started
no no i'm not waiting for someone to lead the way
i want someone to fucking shove me as hard as they can, push with all the love and energy and all the human emotion they possess
i don't want them to worry about the force or if i'll fall, how hard i'll fall, how hard i'll get hurt
i want to stop feeling like i'm flying when i'm actually swimming, sinking, drowning
but really, i just want donuts.
my pants don't fit right
my coffee is too sweet, not sweet enough
mad men is getting even more intense, i'm zoning out
i'm falling asleep in class. the professor asks questions, i know the answers, but instead of raising my hand and getting all this pent-up knowledge out, releasing all this brilliance, i keep it to myself, collect and collect and hoard and wait for the right moments that never come
i filled out the application, and meant every word, but now that i'm going back to that insomniac city, the words feel false, the tone turned bitter, as if the past me is playing a joke on present me
this time will be different, i keep telling myself,
and it will, but it won't
it's all already laid out before me like the mad writings of a lonely genius, nothing to do no one to see nowhere to go but deeper into research, burrow deeper into the hole of self-doubt, self-pity, a realm with no answers, only more scribbles and doodles and
questions with no answers
i've used the same camera for months, i couldn't load film into it last weekend
my hand shook, the cigarette fell
ash spewed onto my backseat
i'm happy, i have to be
right? because this isn't sadness
the way my throat gets dry and my mind wanders and my feet lead me to the kitchen,
this can't be sadness, right?
the way i take a few steps and turn around because in a few moments i convinced myself that i didn't want to go that way, that that way is not important
the way i hate everything i love
the way i run to you and the way i slap you in the face, shut the door, turn the lock
i've blindfolded myself - or maybe i was born this way - and stopped where i was months, years, maybe a decade ago
i stopped, and i'm standing
and i'm waiting for someone to lead the way
no i don't want someone to gently take me by the hand and say soothing words in my ear as i take small, delicate steps
no, fuck that shit.
for however long i've been standing here, someone occasionally comes by, does just that, whispers, gently leads, let's go when i'm ready, and somehow, somehow, somehow
somehow i find myself cemented to wherever they left me, wherever i started
no no i'm not waiting for someone to lead the way
i want someone to fucking shove me as hard as they can, push with all the love and energy and all the human emotion they possess
i don't want them to worry about the force or if i'll fall, how hard i'll fall, how hard i'll get hurt
i want to stop feeling like i'm flying when i'm actually swimming, sinking, drowning
but really, i just want donuts.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
mini-roadtrip
had a nice weekend adventure to michigan with my friend caitlin. will hopefully post photos or something soon.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
putting this here for the time being. narcissism.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
4/20. today is tuesday. tomorow is wednesday.
that last post was really personal. i feel i should say something about it, but i feel i shouldn't. just one of those things.
not feeling very inspired right now, sort of worn out, sort of relaxed, sort of lots of things i don't want to put into words... so bear with me as i ramble about life like the good ole days.
no class tomorrow, and not much reading, SO i have this list of possibilities:
1. work out. yay yay! first class was cancelled today, and i used the extra time to write a paper, so didn't get anything in. and i spent this past weekend eating nutella brownies. OBESITY.
2. make chocolate chip pancakes
3. hit up the local coffee shop and catch up on some personal reading
4. actually read ahead for class
5. look for a job -_-
6. watch mad men
7. finish current roll of film and learn how to use/what's wrong with my other new camera
8. oh and spring cleaning. i.e. going through my clothes and re-working/ripping things up for ze spring and summer months
i'm sure i'll settle with a mixture of all of that.
someone come have an adventure with me!
the cloud has passed over my life momentarily. i'm trying to take advantage of this. HENCE THE POSSIBILITY OF PANCAKES.
not feeling very inspired right now, sort of worn out, sort of relaxed, sort of lots of things i don't want to put into words... so bear with me as i ramble about life like the good ole days.
no class tomorrow, and not much reading, SO i have this list of possibilities:
1. work out. yay yay! first class was cancelled today, and i used the extra time to write a paper, so didn't get anything in. and i spent this past weekend eating nutella brownies. OBESITY.
2. make chocolate chip pancakes
3. hit up the local coffee shop and catch up on some personal reading
4. actually read ahead for class
5. look for a job -_-
6. watch mad men
7. finish current roll of film and learn how to use/what's wrong with my other new camera
8. oh and spring cleaning. i.e. going through my clothes and re-working/ripping things up for ze spring and summer months
i'm sure i'll settle with a mixture of all of that.
someone come have an adventure with me!
the cloud has passed over my life momentarily. i'm trying to take advantage of this. HENCE THE POSSIBILITY OF PANCAKES.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
in the wrong place
i am in the wrong place. always in the wrong place.
stop being so useless.
you are a waste of a human being.
a waste of friendship,
waste of time.
let's move to the west coast.
no, seriously, this summer
let's just pack up and start driving.
we'll worry about everything when we get there.
this isn't working.
you are useless.
stop being so useless.
you are a waste of a human being.
a waste of friendship,
waste of time.
let's move to the west coast.
no, seriously, this summer
let's just pack up and start driving.
we'll worry about everything when we get there.
this isn't working.
you are useless.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
you mean everything
she read the words on her wall like she did every morning, you mean everything.
whether it was true or not, it didn't matter.
she thought about all the people who hadn't said those words to her, the people she wanted to simply look at her and say, i couldn't live without you.
even if they didn't mean it.
she made herself a cup of tea, grabbed a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, and perched herself on the front porch swing. she thought about yesterday, tomorrow, last weekend.
she thought about the people in her life, the people who weren't in her life, and wondered whether she'd ever uttered those words, you mean everything.
the thoughts began to sting like the cigarette smoke, drifting down her throat, up her nose, making her eyes water. she took a sip of the scalding tea to ease it all.
as hard as she tried to smoke away the memories and drink away the memories, they kept wafting into her head as the scent of the flowers. the bees buzzed and she wondered if it was mating season. she wondered the same thing the other day, when she sat in the same spot, drinking out of the same mug, but the mug was filled with coffee and she had been reading a book. the bees were buzzing, but she wasn't thinking about meaning anything to anyone, whether anyone meant anything to her.
she grabbed her camera from her room, to take photos of the smoke, the flowers, the everything, wondering all the while whether it actually meant anything to her. it did, she decided. she looked at the plants and thought, you mean everything. she looked at the budding trees, you mean everything. she looked at the cigarette in her hand, you mean everything. as the hot liquid slid down her throat, as the camera made its noises, as the fedex truck drove by, as faces popped into her memory.
ok before i fuck this up [i don't know how to end things! lol], i'm going to go wander somewhere since it's nice out. the other day i received in the mail some photos from a long-distance friend. on the photos she had etched into them "you mean everything." i could write forever about this, and smile forever about this.
whether it was true or not, it didn't matter.
she thought about all the people who hadn't said those words to her, the people she wanted to simply look at her and say, i couldn't live without you.
even if they didn't mean it.
she made herself a cup of tea, grabbed a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, and perched herself on the front porch swing. she thought about yesterday, tomorrow, last weekend.
she thought about the people in her life, the people who weren't in her life, and wondered whether she'd ever uttered those words, you mean everything.
the thoughts began to sting like the cigarette smoke, drifting down her throat, up her nose, making her eyes water. she took a sip of the scalding tea to ease it all.
as hard as she tried to smoke away the memories and drink away the memories, they kept wafting into her head as the scent of the flowers. the bees buzzed and she wondered if it was mating season. she wondered the same thing the other day, when she sat in the same spot, drinking out of the same mug, but the mug was filled with coffee and she had been reading a book. the bees were buzzing, but she wasn't thinking about meaning anything to anyone, whether anyone meant anything to her.
she grabbed her camera from her room, to take photos of the smoke, the flowers, the everything, wondering all the while whether it actually meant anything to her. it did, she decided. she looked at the plants and thought, you mean everything. she looked at the budding trees, you mean everything. she looked at the cigarette in her hand, you mean everything. as the hot liquid slid down her throat, as the camera made its noises, as the fedex truck drove by, as faces popped into her memory.
ok before i fuck this up [i don't know how to end things! lol], i'm going to go wander somewhere since it's nice out. the other day i received in the mail some photos from a long-distance friend. on the photos she had etched into them "you mean everything." i could write forever about this, and smile forever about this.
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