Life's Not A Fairytale.

A Melted Smirk...continued

2013-05-11T00:54:00.000-07:00

I turned back around. Refreshed, in a sense, I was no longer worried. The sky was more purple than usual. Clouds less yellow than yesterday. My hearts were pumping, slowly, but surely. I felt each pump, each bump, thump. My hearts were telling me something.

That just because there were twenty hundred versions of me spread out across the stars, doesn’t mean I am not an individual.

Just because I was based off a person (one person) that has been dead for centuries now, doesn’t mean I don’t have my own thoughts. Right?!

My name is different: E.P.4. Sylvia

That means something, doesn’t it?

The houses on this dead street were like me. Different.

3.0

See one day in history, that no one ever told me about, but somehow I remember, there was once a writer. Famous and now dead. Long dead. They decided to create things. People. Off those so influential, they the word be a better place. Yet somehow missed something. They missed these bubblegum creatures. Small in stature. They looked like cartoons, I don’t know what a cartoon is, there is just something so animated about them. They were giggling and smiling. Things I rarely see in town. In my town grey and dull, in my town lost and sad. There was something missing and in the midst of it all there was remnants of what we lost.

In the corner of their bubblegumed house there was a tv.

-TERRORISM

+Terror

-EVERYWHERE

+These people who have mistakes in their genes are taking our

-FREEDOM

+Falling into myths of the past

-MUST BE STOPPED

+They are creating things and

-CAUSING TERROR

+They are soliciting in activities like love and procreation

-TAKING OUR DREAMS

+ Remembering what life was like before our freedom

-TAKING OUR FREEDOM

+These people must be stopped before their curiosity

-GIVES US DOOM

All I could hear was fear. The TV main purpose in everything was to keep inflicting fear in the hearts of my people. The little bubblegums laughed and sand. Nothing could bother their intense joy. Not even the stranger that was watching, judging and I.

They were worriless.

I was jealous.

The TV usually kept off in my box.

Fear inside me, because I feared I was the one they were talking about. The one causing terror.

But those bubblegums,

They did not care.

But they,

They were not bothered.

But I,

Wanted what that.

But I,

Was nothing. Nothing compared to them.

A Melted Smirk

2013-04-28T20:02:00.002-07:00

There was a confusing air passing through. Like it smelled bad but you couldn't catch on to what the smell was. I was just sitting there, in the corner, analyzing, discreetly, the possible things that could be creating that smell.
Maybe it's a dead animal? But it smells too sweet. Maybe it's a rotten rat that had raided a candy shop the night before it had died? That actually seems probable.
Them I see it, it's not a rat all, it’s a fucking human. I think it's a human his or her or its skin was too pink, like bubble gum pink, and the skin was dripping off as though it had been sitting on a tropical beach for hours and hours.
I was still sitting there, but I was in awe of what I was seeing. I didn't understand. We were not even near a beach or anything like that. We were in the middle of the world. Like the city in the direct center. Not like the core of the world that would be reasonable due to the things skin. He or she or it started to drift away down the street. I was too curious to just let it go. So I followed. I needed to know what and why.
I didn't know what I meant or why I cared but I did.

The thing entered a door, at the end of a dead end street, which was covered bats which is strange, because I had never ever seen a bat before. So how on earth did I know it was a bat?

But I knew.

Somehow I knew, and I was not afraid. I kept going. I following whatever this thing was into a dark hooded house surrounded by broken dreams of the kind hearted.

The thing was I was always afraid, so why was I not afraid now?

There was something reassuring in that melted pink face, something beautiful, and lost. Broken in fact. As though this thing had gone through something to me, a broken and lost person, who found joy in making fun of the world. It was like all the crap, and broken hearts I had received meant nothing but humor to me. I was able to find a smile in the worst of situations. This made life bittersweet, because I was not only broken, but hiding behind a shield of humor. This pink bubblegum being knew how I felt I could tell by the broken, or melted, smirk on its face.

I didn’t stop after it went through the door. I waited a minute, and checked if it was locked, and of course it was not. It was like the thing had wanted me to follow it.

On this planet filled of things I don’t really understand. Where my knowledge exceeds my own understanding. I wondered what awaited me behind this door.

Was it love? No that’s a stupid thing to even think about, love does come unexpected like this monster thing thing, but when it comes you know, but you don’t understand. Or maybe you do understand, I would not fucking now. I currently think I am in love, but how does one know. Is it the excitement that you get when you talk to that person? The silence you can withhold while being around this person? Is it the thoughts that carry out while you’re not with or talking to this person? Is it the calmness you achieve just by listening to their voice? I don’t know, but I think I am stalling. I am honestly afraid, not only of being in love, of what stands between me and this door. Of what stands behind this door. What if it’s the end of me? What if because I entered this door I never know whether I am in love or not? What if I am just fucking stalling because I can’t stop thinking of these impossible things that don’t make sense because I am of afraid of so much and my fear is barely hitting in?

I think I do love him.

Fuck.

I hate this shit so much, like why is there so many stories about this when it fucking sucks.

Fuck it, I say.

Fuck it as hard as I can fuck it, and then I open the door.

Behind it. There was nothing. Not even a bubble gum person. Just nothing.

I realized my worries were nothing as well.

2.0

Behind the door there was bubble gum of all flavors. Little bubble gum people singing songs of those broken dreams those teenagers used to have. Dreams of musicians they would marry. Dreams of futures they would have. Dreams of love they could never get. Every crush that crushed them. Every hope that broke them.

I slowly walked in, trying not to step on anything sticky or chewy or lost.

I knew there was something up.

I knew there was something lost. Maybe in myself. Maybe in these, alien sort things.

Maybe they were martians.

Maybe they were cyborgs.

Imaginary friends of those lost hopes.

Crushed crushes.

Lost dreams.

Maybe they were formed from my own imagination.

Maybe they were lost friends I thought I forgot.

In my world of ketchup fingers and buttercup hearts.

I didn’t know what to think.

I wasn’t trained to really think. I trained to not think at all.

I was trained to believe in religion.

And not be myself.

Of course I rebelled, like most.

And of like none.

I wanted to speak, but I was not even trained to do that.

I knew how to speak.

I think.

I knew how to walk, but I could hardly even do that.

I was a copycat in an original world filled of unoriginal things.

The Story of the Germfilled Kiss

2012-03-28T23:03:00.000-07:00

Premium drinking water

Soaked in someone’s germs

What better way to sing than

In a sickly way?

Soaked in someone’s germs

The man trips down a street

In a sickly way?

“Oh, what a poor soul,” said the nun to the dog

The man trips down the street

Licking up worms

“Oh, what a poor soul,” said the nun to the dog

What a better way to die

Licking up worms

The dog kissed the man

What a better way to die

Than with one last kiss

The Skeleton is Hip To The Beat

2012-03-28T23:02:00.000-07:00

GO NAKED TO THE WHITE

Said the skeleton to the dying man

LIVE FREE OF ALL TROUBLES

PRANCE IN THE MALL

LET YOUR BODY SHAKE

LET YOUR BODY FREE

ALLOW THE LIGHT TO CONSUME

ALL YOUR CREVICES

TO SHOW ALL YOUR FAULTS

AND ALL YOUR BEAUTY

BOOGIE DOWN TO THE CLUB

SHOW THOSE YOUNG FOLKS

WHAT’S REALLY GOING DOWN

MAKE THEM JEALOUS OF WHAT

THEY MAY NEVER HAVE

A BODY OF A 20 YEAR OLD

AT THE AGE OF 21

SHOW THEM WHAT YOU GOT

SHOW THEM WHAT YOU DON’T

ASK THEM QUESTIONS LIKE

WHAT’S THE MEANING OF SUPERCALIGRAGILISTICEXPIALIDOCIOUS?

WHY IS ONE OF MY NIPPLES SMALLER THAN THE OTHER, AND

CAN I SEE YOURS?

RIDE A UNICORN OVER THE FUCKING RAINBOW

GET LAID DIE HAPPY

ANY QUESTIONS?

Why are you screaming?

Said the dying man to the skeleton

BECAUSE I THOUGHT YOU WERE SHORT OF HEARING

The Truth Is

2012-02-02T00:00:00.002-08:00

Thinking about the way you left

Makes me want to throw your genitals into a grinder and feed them to your cat

Thinking about what you did to me

Makes me want to throw your drunk ass out a plane, while you are still intoxicated

Thinking about what we didn’t do, what we didn’t get to do

Makes me feel like I was not a big fucking idiot, but instead someone who actually thinks

But at the same time there are things I wish had happened

I wish you had never disappeared, I wish you remembered what had happened, I wish, Oh, I wish

That I got the chance to say goodbye

The chance to tell you how I felt, and how I did not want to go on with you anyway

The only mistake I can admit I made was meeting you so abruptly

But I don’t regret it, I enjoyed myself, I did what I wanted to do at the time, I made no mistakes

You know at least we did not have sex or

At least I did not fall in love with

You know at least I did not give you my heart

The same way I did not give you my dignity

You know this has all been very educational

Meeting people online is not always the greatest idea

But hey, I should not give up

Ok Cupid, please tell me there are Plenty Of Fish in the sea

Emotions are my best friends

2012-02-02T00:00:00.001-08:00

Happiness is a fleeting delusion

Happiness, why did you leave?

Happiness, oh happiness, I have forgotten your smell

Happiness, I wish you were here

Sadness, I hate you

Sadness, go away

Sadness, yes sadness, is a place I call home

Sadness, why do you never leave?

Anger, where are you now?

Anger, I am sorry I ignore you

Anger, I am not really sorry

Anger, I am glad you have gone

Love, what are you?

Love, why do I see you all over the place?

Love, I’ve met you, but you’ve never stayed long

Love, the dream of love, the fear of love, why do I encounter both?

Emotions, why do you guys control me?

Emotions, I could not be without you

Emotions, you are what help me create

Emotions, you guys are my best friends

Stella Blue’s Trip To The Snow

2012-02-01T23:59:00.000-08:00

When you were

young

You always

dreamed

Of

the

Pure

White

snow

But no one

would take you

No one

would show you

No one

cared

Until

Seventeen

Friends

All

over

Hair

blonde

Pants

Tight
Shirts

On

Shirts

`Off

No one knew you

Like your brother knew

You

No one missed you

As much as he

would

On the trip

You laughed

On the trip

You smiled

On the trip

To see the snow

You died

Chapter 4

2011-10-14T18:49:00.002-07:00

Silence broke suddenly. Joey laughed. Histerically.

“Why are you laughing?” I asked with a smile.

“I hate silence,” he wispered in my ear, and then began to run. And for some reason I followed. I ran beside him laughing. Histerically. Everyone began to follow along. Also laughing like hyenas.It was fun. Rivetting, in fact. We felt free. We were free. Alone.

And then I remembered: were we really alone?

The first time I entered that fortest I did not feel alone. I felt like I was being watched. But this time something was different. I really was not alone, but I felt alone. So alone yet surrounded by people. Joey and I kept smiling at eachother. Something was different. I was different. I was happier. I was free. I was american. Ha, yes that was it.

I started to imagine eagles flying along our sides. They were not really there, I knew it, but I still saw them. But then I saw something else. Something I’ve seen before. A girl. Me. Just standing there in the woods, watching back at us. Like a ghost. Then I began to laugh again. What bull. That was not me. It’s just my head.

Chapter 3

2011-10-14T18:49:00.001-07:00

As the trees began to endulge us, we were silent. No one saying a thing, but the breath of eachother’s lungs. I was still not done with my cig. My fag. My lover. My medicine. I had chosen not to bring any of my anti depressants. I was with friends, some that did not know I was SAD. Really sad. Only two of them knew: Joey and Steph. They were the only ones that knew that I once came to this forest for a different reason. They were the only ones that knew that I had tried to give up. But at that moment in which I was so close to giving up, something told me to stop. Something told me to not give up. So I left the forrest. Promised to never return.

I broke my promise. I broke it for them. For the thing that was pulling me back in.

Chapter 2

2011-10-14T18:48:00.002-07:00

It was time to go. Something told me not to go, but I had to go, because at the same time something was pulling me in. Something made me have to go. The wind was blowing strong. The trees began to mosh. Like a mosh pit at a concert. Kind of like the mosh pit you would imagine at a Wavves concert. WAVES. A mosh pit that resembeled waves.

“Grab your bags, everyone,” said Steph grabbing her Care Bear duffle bag. I grabbed my cat shaped backpack, and my 80’s Barbie duffle bag, and began to walk. Slowly, but surely. I just followed. Walked behind everyone else. The grass was still squishy. Squishy and squishier as you walked closer. As though there was a pond we were about to step into.

I wanted to smoke, I brought two packs, just in case. But I knew it was not a good time to smoke. But my body was nervous. It needed one.

“Hey, do you guys mind if I smoke as we walk?” I asked.

Some of them stared at me like WTF no?

But Steph nodded in approval, and asked to join. So did Joey. He always smoked along with me. He and Steph were my smoke buddies. They were the only ones that actually approved. Kitty did not care, but she would never try one. It was not her thing. She was too much of a goody two shoes. I used to be a goody two shoes, when I still had a God. When I used to pray everynight. “Please God, don’t let anything baad happen to my family, my friends, my pets, and everything I care for,” is what I used to say. Sometimes when I was really scared I still said it. This reminded me of my parents. Of their preiching. Of how my father goes to church twice a week: once for himself, and once to makeup for me not going. He was afraid of me going to Hell. He was afraid of himself going to Hell. My whole family was afraid. That’s why they still believed. It was there ticket to heaven. It was there ticket to a longer life. A happier life. But what was my ticket? I did not need a ticket. I had my own faith. Faith in myself, and faith in the world. Though it was awful. Dreadful at times. But I still kept faith. I had to. It’s the reason I never called myself an athiest. I couldn’t. After years of believing something sticked. Believing in something stuck. Let it be myself, the world, or superstitions.

I kept thinking about what they qwere talking about. The clown. The suicides. I felt like everyone who had died in htat forest was watching us. I felt like the Clown was waiting for us. He had to be. But part of knew none of this made sense. How could they be watching us? How could he be real? How could he still be alive? How could I be so foolish to believe?

But sometimes faith attacks you. You believe the foolish, because something inside you forces you. Something inside of you pulls you in. Just like the forest was pulling me in. I believed in the forest. I knew it was there, but that’s different. That’s realism.

Let nothing bad happen.

Please let nothing bad happen.

Chapter 1

2011-10-14T18:48:00.001-07:00

Here I stand, ready to embark on a somewhat rivetting adventure. But it’s cold. Really fucking cold. There’s a frightening breeze that sounds like a screech. It feels harsh, but somehow soothing. There’s a bristle in the trees that reminds me that that is my future. Those trees will soon be my home. They will surround me, and they will save me.

I am just standing, no movement needed.Waiting for something. Anything. Not saying a word, but my friends, they are loud. They are screaming, not like monkeys, but more like lost souls, telling me random things. Like how there has been murders in those trees. Someone says that the trees are alive, and that they will snatch you as soon as you stand on their turf. They tell the story of the suicides that go down in the forest. About the thousands of people that just come to this same forest to die. How back in the 1800’s people would desert their dying family members there. They talk about the myth of Circus Andy, a clown that came to town during a festival back in the 20’s. One day he was being laughed at by some kids, and for some reason he went mad. Just went stabbing along, as though clowns are not meant to be laughed at. They say how he ran away into a abondoned cabin in the forest, and lives there to this very day. And when he hears laughter he comes back out to stab again. Which does not make much sense, because if they knew where he was wouldn’t they have caught him? Then again the cops are pretty stupid in this town of Saintsville. They rarely catch anyone, but not much happens here. Only a ton of suicides, that echo in the streets. They repeat multiple times that Saintsville has the most suicides in the country. But me: Silence. I am listening to them, but honestrly trying to ignore them, because all their doing is freaking me more out.

I am trying to listen to the things around me. To the bristling trees that remind me of the sounds crowds make at concerts. Swaying. Slowly. Feels like a dream. Not one of those trippy wtf is going on dreams, but one of those perfect dreams where everything just fits. Almost like it’s reality, but it’s so much better. Then there is the grass below my size 8 feet. This green and slightly oramge grass that reminds you that fall is near. They make a squishy sound. God, they even feel squishy. Squishy. Squishy. Squishy grass. It feels like it rained in the near past. I begin to sway like the trees. Like the crowds at the concerts. My friends begin to make fun of me.

“Why are you just standing there?” Says Stephanie, whom is my best friend since kindergarten. She is model pretty, tall, thin, long wavy blonde hair, and doll faced. Always being told she looks like Allison Harvard, but really they are total oppostites. She’s a little strange, and little slutty, but I love her. Dressing in black jean short shorts that barely cover her ass, black tights, and a striped tank top. Even in this weather she dresses as though it is summer, but in her mesh backpack she failed at hiding a jacket. Everyone was wearing stripes. It was the theme of the day. Done especially so we would not get lost.

“Have you forgotten how to talk?” says Joey with his to his shoulders black hair. His eyes were large and green, and he was sweet. I secretly had a crush on him, and apparently he secretly had one on me, but we did nothing about it. We were too scared, but I planned to make my move of this very adventure. But my head was telling me no, yet my heart was telling me go.

“Remember it’s just one syllable at a time” says George with his hands in my face. George was a chubby boy. Loved his pizza, but all of us loved pizza. Pizza was the thing. We worshiped it. We call our group of 6 pizzatarians.

“Then some sounds” says Ezra moving his hands in a mystical jazz hand menover. Ezra was a muscian, and always brought is vintage guitar from the 60’s along. It was signed by Lou Reed. Now he worshiped Lou Reed. Well Lou and pizza. Ezra has short curly hair, and dressed as though he was from the 60’s.

“And then, all of the sudden,”says Jane, a great silence followed and then loudly and out of the blue, “WORDS.” Jane was a tad punk. You know as punk as you can get in 2011. Which isn’t very punk. I like believe punk died after the 80’s, but she would crucify me if I told her. Her favorite bands include: The Ramones, Violent Femmes, and Nirvana. She has short horizontal black hair, and always wore red lipstick.

“Ha,” I say still standing there, “don’t worry about me.”

“That’s hard,” said the final friend Kitty. Kitty is not her real name, but she does love cats. Like really loves cats. She has five: Cat Stevens, Luna, Salem, Moodshadow, and Daria.

“That’s what she said,” I say, smirking.

“Ha ha, but really,” she says with a stern serious face, as though we were not just joking around a minute ago.

“Yeah, we worry a lot,” says Steph widening her eyes..

“Like about this grass,” says Jane looking at the grass as though it was the enemy.

“Yeah, it’s so squishy,” says Joey tapping his feet..

“It might just ruin my shoes,” says Ezra looking at his feet.

“Oh no, not your 50 dollar shoes,” says Kitty in the most scarcastic tone of voice you can imagine.

I sniffle. Trying to remember if I brought clinex or not.

“It might just all be a lie,” says Steph

“We might just fall into nothingness,” says Joey in a very soft tone.

“Everything is nothingness,” I say looking at the grass.

“Ooh deep, ” says Ezra doing that hand thing again. He does it a lot.

“Deeper than the darkness that awaits us in that forest,” says Jane.

I smirk. Remember I did bring some clinex.

I love my friends. They always force me out of my comfort zone. Just the other week they forced me to go to a club. Most bazarre thing ever. I danced, yes, but I did not know what I was doing.I felt like a bafoon, and probably looked like one. I even tried dancing with Joey, but we both got so nervous that it just turned into Twilight Zone.

I begin to sneeze, a deep relaxing, but distraughting sneese. They all look at me. The trees shift. The grass shuffles. And my friends laugh. Then there are even birds, flying, but still noticing everything I do. The way I breath deeply and athsmatic. As though it’s the last breath I will ever have. Who knows, it might just be. They notice the way my hair shines green in the light, and slowly ruffles. With those few frizzy strands blowing in the breeze. My feet unable to stop moving, because I am nervous. I am scared. I am impatient. You can see it on my skin. My face. My bones.

My face is squinting, my mouth is slightly opened, and my nose is in distress. Allergies. Evil and wretchid allerigies. I should have taken my medicine, but I worried that taking it would waste my time. We begin to slowly shift. I move last. Wait for them to be infront of me. I just follow. Like a lost dog. One thick leg in front of the other. “Time for adventure,” is all I can think.

Prologue

2011-10-14T18:47:00.001-07:00

Today I am parched, and everything is moving slowly. I am sitting in my bright green room, that is covered with vintage posters of bands like The Velvet Underground, Janis Joplin, and not so vintage Bright Eyes. My desk is cluttered with empty green tea bottles, and blank papers. Some papers have pictures of cats on them, and there is even a few filled out applications that I have been too freaked to turn in.

Yesterday was another glim day for me, but somr what exciting. I was through the tree filled streets. Took a right turn of Mathew’s Street into the appartment filled streets that are covered in ancient cars, all for sale. Took a left by the bowling ally, and another right on El Romano walked straight past the grave yard, that only reminds me how short life really is. And another right when I got to the mall. There I walked through all the starbucks, and chinese retaurants and companies until I passed Best Sale and got to the Beauty Store. Bought bleach, and a few cans of blue hair dye. And walked straight back home. I attempted to dye my hair blue, and that did not work. I bleached it for too short of a time, and it looks green. Well, fuck it I like it.

Another, fuck it situation. This summer I liked a guy, a lot. Like a lot a lot. I did nothing about it, but I’ve liked him for 6 years. Since high school. I am now in college. Saintsville college. HORRIBLE COLLEGE. Classes are huge, like 700 people per class. I never have had a single conversation with a single of my teachers. I don’t even think they know who I am, but one at least. One teacher that loved me. He told me I was a wonderful writer. Always wrote the best notes on my stories. He made me realize I was a good writer. He made me realize that all the people in high school that thought I sucked were wrong. He gave me confidence. I love that guy.

Today I am supposed to go camping with my best friends. CAMPING. ME. BAD IDEA. I hate the outdoors, but at the same time I kind of love it. I would probably like it more if it had internet conection. I respect nature. In a world without God, you learn to.

The other day I had a conversation with my parents about God, it did not go well.

“GOD, GOD IS EVERYTHING,” they said. They then began preaching to me reasons why I should believe in God.

“Without God the sky is darker,’ my mother said with a crooked dark smile.

“Without God life is shorter” my father said breathing deeply through his smoke infested lungs.

“Without God life is grimmer,” my mother said while glarring at my Grateful Dead poster.

“Without God there is no soul,” said my father said as a tiny piece of hair fell from his already bald head.

“Without God your soul is sad,” said my mother as though she did not hear the last comment.

Why would my soul be happier if I believed in God? But what is a soul, no one can give me a real answer. They just say it’s something we all have. Something that makes us us, and controls us. I personally always thought that was our brain, but whatever. But God, idk. I just think that God is something they need so they can have faith in something, but I don’t need a God, because I have faith in myself.

I don’t really know where I am going with this, I just know I want to write. That’s it. I want to write. So I am bringing this journal with me to this camping adventure so I can write about everything that happens around me. Like how write now I am just in my room, sitting, writing, doing nothing but that. Well thinking, a lot.

The other day I had a conversation with Sam about this adventure.

“Do I really have to go?” I asked.

“If you don’t you will regret it for the rest of your life, “ she told me with a stern face.

She’s right.

The Couple Lived Happily Ever After Until She Called Him A Pig Mongler

2011-08-14T16:45:00.000-07:00

The little girl was not good with boys

She hit them

Hated them

Ran away from them

The big girl was not good with boys

She was awkward

She was shy

She worried too much about them

But there was a boy just like her

He was awkward

He was shy

He worried too much about girls

But when they met

Everything was set

Bring On The Emotions

2011-08-14T16:44:00.000-07:00

Nothing making me happy like you do

Though at the same time you make me nervous

You bring on the emotions that have been hidden for years

You bring on the emotions that have never seen the sun

You bring on the emotions that I’ve always been afraid of

But I don’t care

I don’t care

I like them

I need them

They make me a better person

They make me forget the negative

They make me hopeful

Yet at the same time they make me scared

Yet at the same time they make me worried

Yet at the same time they make me think about everything you said

Over and over again

But I don’t care

I don’t care

What's On My Mind?

2011-08-14T16:43:00.000-07:00

You you

You

You you you

You

You you

You

Ever Since You Gave Me A Chance

2011-08-14T16:42:00.002-07:00

The trees,

They move differently

The sky,

Is a different shade of blue

Jewerey,

It shines differently

Music,

It’s all about you

The Curse

2011-08-14T16:42:00.001-07:00

I hate being alone

But with life comes loneliness

Honey, I Think I Am Over Reacting

2011-08-13T16:23:00.002-07:00

What if you only want me because she did not want you

What if you don’t like me the way I like you

What if all the things I thought you said were not what you said

What if all those inuendos weren’t

What if I am going crazy while you stay sane

What if you are already crazy me for me

What if you don’t lust me

What if you don’t want me to around

What if everything’s a lie

What if I am taking this all the wrong way

What if I am over reacting

What if I am going to fast

What if I have liked you since that first time

What if I used to notice you in a crowd

What if I think I could love you

What if I already love you

No no no

What if I am scared?

Aliens Upduct People, Just Like Thoughts

2011-08-13T16:23:00.001-07:00

Thoughts taking over my head

Everything you did

You think you spoke

All of it

Stuck

On Repeat

I don’t know what to do

I am scared

I want to tell you

I want tou to know

I want you

But how am I to get you

How am I to say it?

I want you

I need you

Inside me

Around me

Maybe not inside me yet

That kind of scares me

Yet at the same time,

I want it

You

The Thoughts That Keep Me Alive

2011-06-18T16:50:00.000-07:00

The only thing I have is the future
The thought of growing old
The thought that there is more to this than now
The thought of the money I will have
The thought of moving out of this hell
The thought of the lovers I will fuck
The thought of all the lovers I will love
The thought of the stories I will write
The thought of the poems I will preach
The thoughts that take away the chills
It’s all that still holds me to the earth
Keeps a slight smile on my face
All that keeps me sane
All that keeps me alive

2011-06-09T17:26:00.002-07:00

But I don't know what story to write.

2011-06-09T17:26:00.001-07:00

I just wish I could write stories again.

2011-06-09T17:23:00.001-07:00

I miss San Francisco.

Said the one that lives in South San Francisco.

2011-06-09T17:21:00.000-07:00

I don't want to do anything today.

2011-06-07T21:02:00.001-07:00