March 97~ Broken Rules

I broke my rule again. Never cry in front of others. I was doing so well. I was being so strong. I put on my bitch mask, the one I rarely use. The bitch who doesn't care. I let her surface and let my hurt soul hide deep within. Wanting to make it easier for him, not let him know, so he doesn't feel guilty. But part of me wants to let him know, so he can know it did mean something to me. I was being strong, shooting hot damn with the gang, playing with the blow dart gun, hitting his picture right between the eyes. Cheers from my friends. Feeling like such a bitch for doing it, but trying to prove I didn't really care about him. Devising a plan to get him over there. To force him into facing me. So I can look into his eyes. That's all I wanted was to look ingo his eyes. I wasn't going to make it hard. "You don't owe me anything." I practiced what I would say. Hoping it made me look strong, and let him off the hook as easy as possible. An hour passed, he didn't come. "Take another shot, forget about him, it's easy." said one who obviously knows little to nothing about emotions. Fuck em' and leave em', his total way of life. But still taking shot after shot. Buzzy as hell. Acting like I don't care. 2 hours are gone. My loving "fiancee" comes over to me and puts his arm around me and I bury my head. I wasn't going to do this, but the tears flow, I can't stop them. My mask, the make-up I hide behind, the make-up that make me feel strong, hidden, protected, is washed away. Leaving me looking weak. I couldn't stop and the liquor didn't help. Hid my face while I made my way to the bedroom. He followed me, held me as I sobbed, stroked my hair, "Why is he doing this to you? I'm going to talk to him. Find out why he's doing this. You deserve more. I'd never treat you this way. Nobody should." My sweet "fiancee". Hating myself for the things I do. Can't believe I would stoop so low, making plans, having people lie to him to force him to do something he obviously doesn't want to do. I hate myself, hate who I have become so quickly and easily. Hating that I was crying, showing people how hurt I was, which only made me cry harder for my pathetic soul. After I felt I couldn't get any lower than what I was doing, she appears appears in the doorway, crying as well. We hold eachother and cry "Dumped on the same night, what lukc?" she says, but I was dumped a long time before she was. "Come on, we're going over there." she pulls me. "I can't". "You will." wishe of good luck and sympathetic looks as we walk out the door make me feel more like shit. We get there. I can't look at him. Curl up in a ball, drunk, head hurts from crying. Knowing I look horrible. Wanting to hide my face. Please don't look at me, a drastic cry from just wanting to look him in the eyes. Saved for a while, left alone. "Go talk to him". Laying down, not saying a word. All the things I wanted to say are gone, washed away by tears. I didn't have my mask to protect me anymore. Feeling so uncomfortable, exposed. Hoping he thought I looked like sht from being drunk, not from crying. "Don't let them know they hurt you" words I once tried to live by, doing a good job until now. Why was I doing things so differently in this whole thing? This whole thing, I've never been more honest with anyone, never let them in like I have now. Why? Why am I doing this to myself? Finally he speaks. I want to tell him to be quiet. I don't want to hear what he's saying, I don't want to face it. But yet again earlier I tried to force him to face me. I had my mask on earlier, I could have pulled it off. He would have never known. But is that really true either? "I still love you to death." "You better". What else was I supposed to say? Could I scream "Why can't you love me then?!" No, I couldn't. I didn't want it to end. This was the first real conversation we've actually had about how we felt. Thats probably what really killed it. I didn't want it to end, yet I didn't want to hear it either. But it did end, and he walked away. I wanted to call out to him, tell him to come back, to hold me. Knew I couldn't, nor wouldn't. Laid there thinking for a while. Not wanting to socialize, feeling like everyone would see right through me and feel sorry for me. I couldn't handle that. Finally I go out there, try to pretend everythings ok. Tried to play guitar, fucking up. It's time to ho, give me a hug, don't let go. "Pretty puppy" he says as he pets me. Not wanting to admit that I didn't want to let go, so instead I say "Fuck you, I'm not a puppy." acting like....I don't even know. "This is the end, my only friend, the end." Maybe some other time, some other place....maybe not. But for now, just friends again. We go back to my loving fiancee's house, he wants to know what was said, so I tell him. "He's my friend and all, but I don't like seeing you hurt" sweet thoughts, comfort me only a little. The beautiful blue-eyed vampire gives me a hug, "You went and seen him didn't you? I'm sorry, I know what it feels like." he just holds me, feels good to have his arms around me. I just want to be held. "Call me sometime" with a wink and another hug, which of course makes me smile, lord knows this boy makes my heart skip a beat, even when it is broken. We leave. Home again. Not quite as drunk, but still buzzy. I think back over everything. Turning it over and over in my mind. "You don't owe me anything" I thought I meant it. So why did I feel so good when he said he really owed me a lot? He kept the key, said it would stay on always. Even said him and her fought about it, she wanted him to take it off, he said no. Why do I hate her? I don't even know her. But I remember not so very long ago, before this started, when we were just friends. Her paging him, and him being so very upset, me holding him, knowing she was hurting him...hating her then. He was still so sweet to me then, so different. I have this stupid little candy heart he gave me on valentines day "One I love" I saved it because it meant to much. How pathetic.

March 97~ Reasons

Reasons, or at least part of the reasons became very clear today. "He's back with her." That was so unexpected. It was like a slap in the face, I lost my breath. It was so hard not to show them I cared, my sweet friend had such concern on his face when he told me. The whole room went silent. Tried to play it off, but I felt sick to my stomach and tears wanted to stream down my embarassed face. How could I have thought I could be anything to him? Leaving him a message, "Tell her I said hi." I'm such a bitch. Really I just wanted to let him know that I knew. It's not like I can blame him, not angry that he's with her. Angry at myself for letting myself start this in the first place. Angry at him for ignoring me though, wanting to say "Am I your friend? Well then act like it." But I know I won't. So here it is. The end. Maybe I don't want to hear it from him, then I can pretend I don't know, pretend it hasn't ended just like that. Is that not fucking pathetic? I take off my heart necklace, but he will always have the key. How stupid to have necklaces, how stupid to let him walk around with the key to my heart around his neck. But he will always have it. I can't seem to just leave the heart laying around, so I slip it into my pocket. Feeling naked in ways, exposed. Rejected again. Embarassed. Now wanting to let people know that I am pathetic.

March 97~ Ignored

Ignored. Why? What have I done? Was it something I said? The stupid letter I wrote that I knew I shouldn't have? Am I just not good enough? I wait, and wait. But he avoids me. And I don't know why. Each day that passes is hell that seems to last for eternity. It's all I can think about, it consumes my mind like a raging fire. But I act like I don't care, like it doesn't bother me. Stupid mind games. Why did I let myself fall? I knew I shouldn't have. In the beginning when he was like a little boy with a crush, when I could tell he liked me with every single thing he said and did, when he tried everything and anything to be by me, to be near me. It made me feel so incredibly good. But I was scared, didn't want to start anything because my heart had not yet healed from pyscho-boys attack, and I was so scared of being hurt yet again. Yet with each passing day, he seemed to prove to me that he was such a good guy, would never hurt me. He was there, every single day, calling, inviting, wanting to spend as much time with me as possible. Killing me with that little boy grin, writing me poems, reeling me in. And when his dear freind told me what I already knew, that he did like me, my heart rejoiced, yet I was still scared. I lied and told his dear friend that I wasn't sure what to do because I was scared of hurting him. But in reality, I was afraid of falling too hard and being hurt. Because I knew if I let myself fall, I'd fall so incredibly hard for this charming guy with the little boy grin. He was so wonderful, sweet, funny. Why can't that time come back? From the moment we started this, the first night we spent together, he was like a turtle pulling into his shell. That sweet guy who said all the sweetest things and always tried to be by my side...... was just gone. Sometimes it still shone through, just a glimpse, enough to give me hope, keep me hanging on, but for the most part it was if he was a whole new person. What did I do wrong? Why did he change? Why did he start hiding and stop letting me see how he felt? He changed so much. So much I shouldn't have done it. I should have known better. For now I sit and wait for him to call......and I don't know if he ever will. I don't want to believe that he could be so cruel, that he would be that guy that did that all, all those hours and days spent together, all that attention and affection, for just one thing and then he's gone. He can't be that type. Maybe other reasons keep him away. And I ache, and I hurt. My heart wasn't ready for this. I don't want him to know he hurt me. I told him if he ever just wanted to be just friends again, that was ok, knowing really it would hurt me, but I wanted to be strong, or fool him into thinking I was. Maybe he knows better, thats why he can't tell me. Why did I do it? I'm so stupid to have thought that he could have really wanted me.

March 97 ~ Shine

The sun is high, hot and bright. The breeze ever so light. The wind is dancing with my hair as I speed down the highway. The radio plays some of my favorite songs as I scream along with them, aware of the staring of passerbys, but not giving a damn. This is a most beautiful day and happiness fills my soul. Things are going to go my way. It can't rain all the time. The sun dispels my fears, my doubts, and gives me a sense of security ad contentment which brings me much joy. I have not given up on my sadness, but today I will not be sad. Happiness rules my heart today. It is much too wonderful of a spring day to be unhappy.

March 97~ Show me the way

Show me the way to the next whiskey bar, let me drink until I lose myself. Let me forget who I am. Let me no longer be me. Let me be able to say the words, let me say that things I can't seem to force myself to say. They get lost somewhere in my throat, and never find their way out. And I lose what I cherish most because of it, and then I sit in self-pity, kicking myself, never being able to forgive myself for my lack of courage. Take me away, I don't want to stay here. Trapped in a place where I can't seem to move forward, and where I know I can never go back. So what do I do? I have no escape. Stuck in a light of rejection and fear for all the world to see. Vulnerable, dejected..... my soul is exposed for people to point and laugh, and I have no where to hide. No way to cover my shattered, exposed soul. Tired, exhausted, not wanting to live, not wanting to die. Waiting for my luck to change, wishing for a time where I will no longer hate who I am, and hate the life I lead.

March 97~ Lonely

I cried myself to sleep last night, tears splashing scattered on my pillow. Drip drop. An old familiar feeling of long ago, haven't done that in so long. Haven't really cried for some time. The last time I cried, I don't even have a memory of it, was just told about it, feeling embarassed, stupid, exposed. Second night in a row I blacked out, mixing pills with liquor, you would think I would learn the first night. Especially since the first night resulted in doing things, doing someone, I didn't even remember. Never cry in front of anyone, a rule I obviously broke. Sad at everything from the fantasy world I so much love and escape to every week, as I watch people I will never know or meet act out characters that somehow I love so much, To the harsh reality of my own life. Scared, alone, unsure of what is to come next, but fearfully waiting for its arrival. It's tip tapping at my door. Tip. Tap. Wanting to open it, but scared of the big bad wolf that lay waiting outside to pounce on my soul and take away everything that makes my heart smile, a wish to close my eyes forever, locking it all into place for eternity, plays upon my mind. "If I close my eyes forever, will it all remain the same?" wanting to sleep, sleep forever wrapped in the arms of my sweet prince. The oneI await on my balcony for, to come take me away, to fill my heart and soul with a priceless gift known as love. Waiting......waiting......waiting......will he ever come? Will I ever really even get the chance to meet him? For I find a prince, and realize all too soon that he is not MY prince. I wait, confused, lonely, desolate. Not wanting to give up, but not wanting to face the heartbreak that he may never rescue me from my own dreary world inside my mind. That I may forever be a prisoner, trapped behind a wall so thick it almost seems unbreakable. But I know when he gets here, he can break it, if he chooses. If I ever find him. Shall I wait forever? Or make my own path into forever without my prince? What is a princess without her prince? Just a lonely girl with nothing.

Feb 97~ Dreaming

I dream of a person whom I fear has never dreamed of me. Or if he has, may never dream of me again. I don't understand the ways of these games. I simply wish to be honest and happy. Yet I know this isn't how I've always been. I seem to mess things up without any intention. I lost the person that I cared for the most because I couldn't open up and admit my feelings. I couldn't let him in, was scared to face my feelings, and I lost my opportunity. Now, just like him, it's dead and gone. And I regret that more than anyone could know. So I try to promise myself never again. I will be open and honest about how I feel, so I don't lose anyone else without them knowing how I feel about them. But now I think I am losing this one anyway. Probably because I am so open and honest. Maybe it's scaring him away. Isn't it ironic? I can't win for losing. But in all actuality this is not true also, for he has never been mine to lose. Maybe I just dream too much. Maybe I should just let him go. But every part of me just wants to hold on and make it work. Yet i know I can't if he doesn't want to. I wonder why my luck goes so sour in this department. Perhaps I just don't know what I'm doing. Maybe I should act fake and not be honest, play hard to get. It works for her, everyone always wants her. Of course she also has a body and personality that I just don't have. But I don't want to play mind games. I've had enough of that with psycho-boy to last me a lifetime. Never again. One day I suppose I will meet someone who understands me, who accepts me. I just wished that it was him, for he seems the closest to me in the way that he thinks. The way that he hides, becomes everything for others. Never really revealing who he is behind his mask. I wanted to get in and learn all that I could. Perhaps let him into my world also. Yet I'm not sure if I could let him in even if I wanted to. My wall has been built to last, years of endurance and strengthening has left me a prisoner behind it, unable to release my soul. Sometimes I start to tear it down, only to be hurt again and up it goes again. Maybe I should just accept the solitary doom I handed to myself, accept it as my fate and destiny. Yet I dream of a time when I will find someone special enough, to trust them with my soul. A soul so dear that they will forever be endeared to my heart, even if we should go separate ways, they would forever be a sort of soulmate. Maybe my hopeless romantic hear just like the idea of it being him. For it seems no one can compare to him. He is the first to even be in the same class as my lost love, which amazes me. For their class; sincere, sweet, interested in more than just fulfilling their own needs, their class seems almost to not exist any longer amonst the lies, the shallowness of fake promises. Which makes it so hard to find someone do dear. This is why I don't want to let him go. Why must I fall foe someone in my heart I think is perfect for me, but in their heart they don't agree? I don't want to play head games and just settle for the rest of them around. I want the one who had a sweet, loving soul, perhaps as tortured as much as mine. Tortured only because I torture myself, and maybe he does the same. But sadness is impending because I may never know if we are kindred spirits due to his not being able to open up. And in that very sense, I know he feels the same as I in ways. Unable to open my soul for people to pick it apart, unable to wear my heart on my sleeve for someone will smash it. Yet I am wearing my heart on my sleeve with this now. But I trust him completely to be honest with my feelings about him. Fear perhaps made it easier, fears of losing him also. But then this could be my melodramatic soul, making this all seem much bigger than it really is. For I seem to be very good at that.

Feb 97 ~ Guilty

Guilty feelings of things done wrong. Feeling ashamed, pain in my heart, aching in my chest. Re-living past mistakes, old demons popping up left and right, allowing myself to do the things I've once fantasized about, but would ruin my dreams here in reality. Knowing I always screw up the best things in my life. Ghosts coming back to remind me of my most tragic regret. Praying, hoping, wishing, wanting. Scared, fearful, confused. Happy yet sad. Torn between guilt and ecstacy, not really sure why either feeling has come to visit. Feeling good yet feeling horrible. I don't want to ruin this, won't give in. I can't face myself if I do. Hating my insecurities and lack of self-esteem that make me do the things I do. Unsure of what will happen next, anticipating the outcome with fear in my soul. Praying that the truth will never be known. I am my own worst enemy, I cause the most trouble in my life.

Feb 97~ Lost

Pain in my head. My eyes threaten to close. Lost in my thoughts. Scared of what's to come. Anticipation of my worst fears. Trying to put off what has to be done. Ghosts that visit bring back old pain. Part of me wants to forget, part of me wants to grab it and hold on. "Grab it and run". I dream of a time that is but a fantasy in my heart. I pray to the moon goddess for my wishes to come true. But does anyone hear? Am I invisible? Or just not worthy enough to pay attention to? My feelings are so numb, it's all I can feel. My fears sit like a ton of bricks at the bottom of my stomache as I hope and pray that they don't come true. Uneasy at this prospect. Scared to have to finally face it. Tears have threatened all day long. I try to let them come this time, but they stop after they sting my eyes. Not even quite sure why I'm so sad, but I am. Lost in my sadness, waiting for the answers.

Feb 97~ Black Clouds

Black clouds float across a royal blue kansas sky, as the orange moon glows brightly for all to see. The somber night air brings things to mind that usually stay hidden deep within. Things better left alone. Things which seem almost dangerous to think about. Thoughts swirl around in your mind, leaving you more confused than before. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, eyes that hide all of your pain, eyes that hide the real you. Although you are not quite sure why the tears are there. You sit with two people closest to you, yet no one speaks. Riding along, feeling out of place, uncomfortable. There's nothing left to say, and it makes you sad to know this. People change, but it's easier when it's them that have changed. But this time it's not. You can't blame this silence between souls on the others, like you have in situations before. This time it's you. You are no longer the same, but yet this is also untrue. You are the same, yet now you reveal more. Tired of hiding, tired of pretending. The night wears on as everyone strives to enjoy themselves. Feeling 14 once again, skating around and around in circle on a polished wooden floor. The disco ball and colored lights dancing above your head, as music fills the air. Turning around to see your friends behind you, and in a split second you see a ghost, as your heart drops to the floor. You had only looked back for a split seconds, and you know if you looked back again it would no longer be there, and maybe you don't look anyway because your afraid it just might be. You know its the lights playing tricks on your eyes, a stranger who looks like a ghost, but that doesn't make the pain go away. A ghost you have dreamed of seeing, and now you have, and it killed a part of your soul, a part you tried to protect. A ghost held deep within your heat, a ghost of a person you have loved the most. A memory you can't shake from your head. Tears again surface, but you fight them and win. Never cry in front of others if it can be helped, don't let them into that part of your soft sensitive side. Don't trust anyone not to hurt you if you let them in. Maybe not even yourself. The night goes on but nothing is the same. You wonder how you can love yet hate a person so much as you watch their fake actions that you can see right through, watch the very things you hate so much in your own gender. The things you strive to never do, never want to be a part of, although you were born the same sex. Why are people so stupid? Maybe it's just you.

Feb 97~ Desolate

Desolate thoughts take over my mind. Dreams of a bleaker future widdle their way into my soul. Bored of my life, wanting something more. Empty places in my soul aching for fulfillment. A deeper kind of peace, something to excite me, to make me happy to be alive. Instead of trying to find that peace, I sit and wait for it to find me, knowing it probably never will, but not daring to seek my own happiness. Perhaps fear of failure holds me back, perhaps lack of anticipation of a brighter dream is the culprit. Who knows? Not I. So I sit here and wait. Bored, confused, scared, alone. Reliving past memories in the back of my mind, sad that they are gone now. Trying to fiqure people out, with little luck, wondering if I am the only person to think the way that I do. If I am the only person who hides behind the mask, only letting the real me free when I have a pen in hand. My thoughts on paper seem to be worth less than when they are just scattered ideas floating freely in my mind. I feel lower than other people, as if because of trivial thoughts and harbored negative feelinds I'm not worth as much as others. I know I am a loving person who doesn't like to do others wrong, but yet I can't shake the feeling that I'm just a hardcore bitch that just doesn't give a damn. Perhaps on paper I am, but in reality, I could never hurt anyone the way I seem to do in my mind. I never seem to think things through before doing them, consequences don't enter my mind until after I fuck everything up. And then who do I have to blame? Omly myself, and I punish myself profusely for it. Yet I think it's almost unfair for others to hold blame above my head when they know I never meant to hurt anyone. Yet am I as forgiving as that with others? In ways yes, but also in way I can hold grudges for eternity, but I never let on that I do. I hide them deep in secret places where my bitterness and anger go. Places never to be revealed to anyone....ever. I may show a selected sould or two the rantings ad ravings of my tortured mind someday, but never will they see the things I talk about. They may know I hide my bitterness, but they will never know what lies behind the anger, or the cause of my unhappiness.

Jan 97~ tick tock

The clock ticks. Tick tock. Tick tock. My life is wasting away. I am nothing. I am everything. Hold me close. Stay away. I stare into the heavens to witness the twinkling of stars as I wish I too were among them. A star-hearted princess, as one sweet soul has deemed me. I only wish I were one, a royal beauty breaking the light of the moon goddess. A beautiful sight for all the world to see and admire. Yet is that what I really want? Or do I wish just to be a star-hearted princess for only those who discover my beauty,my talent, my love? Perhaps I just wish to exist in a world where nothing is ugly, therefore I could only be beautiful. instead of just me. Ah to have beautiful dreams. They take away the harsh edges of reality, where I am just me, nothing exciting or spectacular. Just me. But in dreams I am all, a star-hearted princess, a moon goddess, the beauty on the balcony, seducing romeo from afar. I can be everything. I can be all. No limites, no cares, no harmful words, no insecurities or lack of self-esteem

Jan 97~ Demons

Demons knock upon my door, but I am not afraid. They are my demons, home for a visit. How long will they stay this time? Weeks? Months? Perhaps a year? Will I tire of them? Will I want them to leave like I have done so many times before? Why am I happy that they have arrived? Why am I glad that my soul is now once again tainted with depression? I now think more, diving into places in my mind that I have been happy to leave alone before. Letting the things that I have surpressed before float freely around my brain. The heavy feeling of despair accompanies me in my chest where ever I go. A familiar feeling that leaves me almost content. Can depression make you happy? Is that not an oxy moron? IS that not impossible? But has my life ever really made sense? Chaos is comforting and peacefulness leaves me uneasy. I scream just to hear it, to break the silence which I consider almost evil.

Jan 97~ Sincere lies

Words spoken in sincere lies, taken straight to the soul, pulling the wool over your eyes, even though in your heart you know. You know the truth but can't accept it to be true. So you let the lies fill your heart. Pretending you never knew, but you can only turn your head for so long, your world will be shattered soon. You pretend to sing a happy song, but in reality blue is your new tune.

Heartache. Pain. I sit and feel these things in my chest. Unable to quite pinpoint the cause of these feelings. I no longer want to be happy. But why? I strive to welcome my depression this time. I almost rejoice at the sadness that takes over my soul. It fills me with the bitter sides of life, yet I now feel whole. A familiar feeling, this is far from the first time it has come knocking on my door. Yet this is the fist time I've actually been looking forward to it. I let it take control of my mind instead of fighting it. Wanting to no longer be what I am, yet afraid to break that protective shell away. Afraid to let people into the real me but I no longer want to hide, no longer want to pretend. For it takes too much out of me to fake my happiness. I no longer have the motivation to keep that front up. So I contemplate becoming a hermit once again. Hiding from my friends, becoming my own company. Having the time I want and need to sort my thoughts, but not wanting to explain myself or answer questions that I have no real answers for. Not wanting to hurt anyone, but tired of hurting myself by hiding. No longer wanting to hide but also not wanting to let anyone in. So in ways I'd still be hiding. but in ways I would also be free. Free to enjoy my depression, free to be in love with my sadness.

Jan 97~ Insanity

The joker smiles his wicked smile as he winks to you and me. Evil thoughts corrupt his mind, the evil we can't see. Insanity. Is he insane? Who's to really say? The fairies dance around the clown, hoping he will play. But sadness has taken over the once merry heart, sadness causing the clown to frown. Hoping the happiness will once again start, sadly moping around. The devil makes a pact with God behind the curtain of reality. Hiding from the world because they don't want us to know or see. The poet is in love with his voice, the person choosing to end their life is in love with their choice. Shattered hearts lay scattered around with no one left to sweep them up. Most have nothing to show while few have an overflowing cup. The petals of daisies float along with the winds of change, daisies dreaming of a world where roses will be strange. Angels tears mix with ours in rivers of bittersweet pain. Angels crying for our lost souls, causing the heavens to rain. Stars giddily making love to the vast milky way. The makestic moon watches in dismayed silence as he patiently waits for the day, Hopelessly lost souls searching for their soulmates, trudging through the violence and hate, sobbing in dispair at a lost love long gone, knowing in your heart it will never again be lived on. Holding onto the hopes of a brighter fantasy, waiting for it to take over your bleak reality.

Jan, 97~ The Bells

Do you hear? The bells. Hells bells. Ringing loudly in my ears. Death calling. Fear enters. Scared to live, scared to die. Who am I? Who was I? Who have I become? Hiding. Hiding behind a mask of happiness. Cowering in the corner like a child under a blanket of fear and insecurities. Scared to reveal me, the me that scares me. The one who knows what pain really is. The one who thinks things that the mask would never think or say. The one no one knows but me. The one trying to get out. But the mask won't let her out, afraid to show the truth to those who think they know me. Afraid to let anyone know the real me. Why? Fear. This "real" one is so drastically different from the mask, they wouldn't understand. They would sau I was insane, and in ways I suppose I am. In ways they may never be able to understand. In ways I don't understand. I have created this split that I so much hate now. The mask and the real one. When did I start hiding? When my innocence was stolen? Did I stop trusting then? Did I start hiding my bitter emotions, and only let my happy mask be seen? Afraid to let the world see I had been hurt? Hiding my anger, my bitterness. Never letting the world see just how angry I am inside, pretending to be the better person. If they only knew. If they only knew what I bitch I am within. The one who hates everyone who has hurt me, the one who dreams of revenge, who can taste their blood on her lips. The one who takes all the pain and lets the mask fake her happiness, so well that she thinks she really is happy. The mask is embarassed and ashamed of the bitch that she could even feel these things, that this may be just who she really is. The mask wants the be the loving, sweet girl who cares more about the world than herself. But the real me is a mixture of the mask and the bitch. The mask is all of the positive aspects of me, and the bitch is where I hide all of the negative. "I cry by myself, on my own shoulder" No one can see my negative feelings because I won't let them. I won't let my gaurd down and let them see the vulnerable crying soul that I am sometimes. I reveal too much when I reveal my pain. People can hurt me if I let them into that sensitive spot in my soul. People will know how pathetic and stupid I am and can be, if they know the crying side of me that hides behind the ever happy mask. "I'm in love with my sadness" Billy's words ring true to me. I'm in love with the morbid, sad side that the bitch represents. I'm in love with her words, the writings her tormented sould comes up with. The bitch needs the mask, the mask needs the bitch.

Jan 97~ The moon

It's like the moon sent a whispering sigh of hope, with a dew drop, who fell upon the velvet petals of a fresh rose. And lovers, holding hands, see the rose and picture heaven, for all beautiy is contained in the majestic flower. Even imperfections add to its intricacy. But what does it have to offer besides beauty? A sense of peacefulness, a hope of a love that we can hold in our hearts as a vision of the rose. Whether fresh and new, or crisp and dead with the age of time, it still once was, and we hold that forever near to our hopelessly romantic hearts.

Jan 97~ Heaven or Hell?

It is heaven? or hell? I can't quite tell, but with you here it's all the same anyways. I'm not sure I'd be able to tell the difference all the same. Who are you? Why all the masks? What is it you are hiding? Why do you hide the real you? Why do I hide the real me? What is real anyway? Who are we really? Bored, dreary people with so much, yet so little to do. Twiddling by our time, and our lives with frivolous things that mean nothing. What are we trying to prove? And to whom are we trying to prove it to? You may say, to yourself, to the real you. But isn't the real you content with just being you? Why must we have something to prove? Questions. Answers. Questions and answers. We all seek them, we all ponder, we all wonder. So why do you think that you are special? Why are your thoughts any more important than what others have to offer? But then we are all special, and we all have gifts to offer. You blame others for holding you back, when you are the only one to blame. For no one can hold you back unless you let them. No one has power over you until you let them have it. Things are so strange. You think you have it all figured out, and then BAM! It's all just mass confusion once again.

Jan. 97 ~ Babys breath

Babys breath as a gentle breeze, blows in the fragrant, yet light scent of spring roses, while the snowflakes dance in the starlight, as the deep purple sky makes love to the moon. The wind caresses the earth, like gentle, sweet kisses from your lovers mouth, and the sun rises, as though it is his time to shine, and the moon goddess must step down and give up her throne, as a new world takes over, full of soft lights and pastel colors, different from the dark shadows and illuminating neon light of the moon goddesses' world. The interchanging of these thrones is the most majestic beautiful sight; when all the colors of the world come to pay their respects, and all the heaven sent angels sigh and come to greet the exchange, with unceasing wonder and beauty, unleashed to only the limits of your mind. Where all the colors of the world drip into the sky and bring about the changing, from day to night, night to day. Amazing how many times this miracle happens in our lives, but how many take the time to notice? And there they all aree; stars kisses and whispers of dew drops, with all the immense colors, ready to do it again and again and again. And we are all free to experience this wonder as much as we want, for as long as we live. And how many of us really do? Do we actually take advantage of all the splendor and wonders that nature has o offer, or do we pass them up in search of more materialistic things, such as money or social standings? When in reality they mean nothing in the end, whether we die rich or poor, we still die, and we can only take with us the memories. Which would you rather have? A life full of wonderous experience given to everyone who wants them? Or a life full of struggle and the rat race to win, to be the best? But what is the best? The most work? Why work all of your life for that title, when you could have a whole new world of delights instead?

Jan 1997~ Angel's whispers

Angels whispers kiss the sky, and a burst of pastels make the sky alive. Butterflies swarming through the masses, dreaming of an existence with no limitations, free, free as a bird, to soar upon the hopes of a new day, or a new dream, to take away the demons and bad things, and let fantasies take control, and dream, no limits to who I am, but if there are then they are set by me. What is cool? What is real? The existence of our meaningless lives, is that cool? What does it all mean? The thoughts, dreams, hopes.....what is it all really, but...life? Is there any other word to describe such perfect beauty mixed with your worst fears and nightmares, coming true in a slew of uneventful patterns in your life, until nothing and everything makes sense. Laughter mixed with heartfelt cries, and the joy that will no longer be able to be lived on. But happiness, what exactly is it? What is happiness? One person's happiness, a pure heaven full of delight, can be anothers hell, living in damnation and fright. Scared to be, yet they are all. Scared to see, yet it is everything that must be seen. Colors, in whirls of dainty whispers, snow flakes drop with no sound, twirling in the light of the moon, a stars rays are all that shines through, a palace of snowflakes, kissing everything, making the streets, trees, mountains, all perfect with a sense of wholeness and purity, and silent dreams. What are dreams really? Are they not just heartbreaks? To wish and hope for something, and then not recieve it could be the most earth wrenching fear, a heartbreak, too dear and true. What is it in life that you want? Popularity? Power? Intelligence? or just the perfect mask, to be able to fool everyone into believing I am this perfectly content being, as cool and wonderful as can be. But I, behind the mask, ams really a child cowering in the dark shadows of life, alone, scared, confused. But to be able to put on the show, to make people think that I have it all together,all worked out, fixed, wonderful. But nothing is ever just truly wonderful is it? Nothing can ever be just beautiful and perfect. Without nightmares what would dreams mean to us? Without pain and loss, what would the joy actually mean to us? A balance. A balance between everything in nature, in light, in shadows. A perfect balance to send out mass confusion into our chaotic existence. And we call this living?! But ain't it grand? What would the world be like, if nothing evil or bad could happen? Not even a dream world could express that idea, for even in dreams come nightmares. The monster under the bed, the devil in the closet, lurking behind every sweet dream. And we know they are there, yet so far but too near. It frightens us, but keeps us going all the same. We know we can never be truly happy, but we try anyways. We try to put our world into perfect peace and harmony, to just be happy, but the evil, lurking, keeps us on our toes. It makes us realize what we have to be thankful for, and in constant fear that all your dreams could be taken from you without warning, nor any apologies. And then what? There is nothing left, nothing byt broken dreams to pick up. And then what? DO you build a new dream? A New hope? a new future? So it can all be taken away as well? Or else, what? an existence of nothingness and drab humane exile is all that fills your days as you patiently wait to die. And then what? What happens when you die? Do you get that broken dream back? Are all your hopes, dreams, happiness,is it all just handed back to you, to never be taken away again? So what happens if there are no hopes, no dreams, no happiness? No true meaning of the sense anyway. Then what? When you die, you get all of that back, all of the same ordinary life back that may have killed you in the first place, and it will be your eternity? A hell. A heaven or hell, and who's to tell but only you? It's not a universal state of being, it has only to do with your life. Your heaven, your hell. EVerything in life as well as death is what you make of it. Something meaningless to one person, may be the most eventful thing in anothers life. It's all what you make of it. SO what is your life?