Pretend

I know how to be your friend. You won't have to pretend around me.  It's a wild feeling.. Being hooked.  Without the hope of love, what is the meaning? Music is the meaning now, it causes me to have to give ... Nothing. Instead I receive the feeling of pleasure, to know his song is for me. 

I could waste my time better... Mom said I haven't felt happiness since middle school age.. I remember slightly. I'd rather sit outside and paint.. I haven't much interest in being "social"; only if it has to do with my art.. Selfish. 

I'm always looking for something. Lost in this masquerade. The purpose is pleasant... I haven't a clue now.  Lost inside this lonely game we play.  

Once you write something... It has nothing to do with you anymore.  I believe this, heard about it last night.  I don't even believe that it is me writing, I just believe that it has to come out and needs to be heard.  Whether I'm dead or alive, someone needs to hear it. Perhaps fifty years from now she stumbles across it.. Then she understands. All of my life will be worth it. This moment of reflection reminds me of a time when I read words that saved me. 

last day.

the instance when all the space is occupied with flesh, not one inch went to waste.  it was a good feeling to be one with another... the skin of our numb bodies together in an action of sorts.  i'm not sure where we were going with this.. but the feeling was priceless.
all the songs added together... unfortunately i was being strange and don't remember any of them.  i also was so distracted that my black tank and leather leggings were the least of my worries.  instead i traveled around with the fur and sound... writing poems on the kitchen floor.  at three am ... offers bounds of inspiration.  too bad all feelings hurt.. even the tears are like needles that stab deep into the soul.  i'm just no longer even interested in looking at other souls.  for no one... the dress up game is for you.  the mystery of material.  the love source of alittle lace... the instance when you realize that the bra you decided to wear is just a bit uncomfortable and a few scars will never stop you...

(excerpt from the lingerie diary)

(12.2.12)

The anger of being uncomfortable... "That means you are doing something." I'm upset because I'm over it.. As much fun as it should be... I'd rather just do it all alone sometimes. It is just who I am. Not everyone can be so happy... The world would be lame if that were the case. We'd all just smile and get along. Instead I would rather be angry. It is going to toughen  the skin that I own. The skin that is thin... I just want an actual companion now.. Instead of drunken lost souls. Alcohol makes things a mess. He must be able to be sober with me. Being drunk isn't a good look. Seeing it on her made me realize what a waste...

I pray he comes soon, I'm starting to lose faith that I even deserve anyone to hold. Someone who is quiet and understands that brilliance is far beyond words. It is a sense of calm in the chaos. It is understanding the world... It is understanding yourself and standing your ground.  It is stopping to breathe... The fresh air that renews us, even if all of your friends would just rather pollute your surroundings. God please clean the air.   

cigs.

the beauty of it all is the innocence.  sex isn't everything.  as a matter of fact...it's the ugly side of intimacy.  the moment when you have given too much of yourself... you are exhausted and it just doesn't feel good anymore.  the thing is... it's so childish.  everything feels so good with him.  laying with him feels nice... our bodies fit together well.  i wish that i didn't need to be so out of it to fit with him... i'm just a strange creature these days.  it hurts he doesn't understand what he does to me.  nonchalant.  the charm in the simple matters.  it is what it is really... a simple young longing.  the chemicals do good for my body.  they help keep me inspired, keep me alive.  keep me needing more.... thank you.