Swim. Sink. Dive. Implode. Exhale.

Listening to Itoshi Hito.
Miyavi's voice is soothing somehow in this mix in my life.
Do you see the difficulty transitioning?
I really am moving out and on.
The crossroads are happening. A magnetic force pulls me in this direction.
Like Frost's poetry.
English is secretly one of my most cherished courses.
The framework is setting.
The clay is molding. I am being pushed, changed,
blended, and carefully set in all the right places.
This is the make of my future.
Somedays I feel lost. I pray.
I want to be strong. I really wish I felt more that way.
My shyness is being stripped, if not beaten out of me.
Childhood melted off of my exoskeletal, introverted mind.
Wipe away those tears. Step off the platform.
Dive. Don't twitch. No time to be afraid.
Execute or fail.
That's how I feel these days.
I typed this in the span of this song.
The acoustic guitar sings to my heart.

Penetrating Silence

This is the loudest quiet We have endured.
I grab hold of myself, as I'm falling again.
Prayer is the only thing the sustains me.
I find love in all the right places.
My coeur, my core, my second self is just on the other side
of this invisible wall. I want to let you in.
I want...to pretend that you don't matter. It never works.
I clasp my hands bowing in my room, realizing the direction life is taking me.
Can you come with me? We seem to be going the same way...
But are we on the same plane?
The last time I held you, I thought that I'd had my fill.
But now I know that's pretty much impossible.
Maybe I'm just lonely.
But the funny part is I want nothing else.



She doesn't even miss me.
We are parting, and I am okay with that.
We are not inseparable, but I was once her rock,
and she was my soft place to fall.
But I am still strong. Holding on to what seems to
be thin air, so thin that if I do not escape,
I will as many others die from lack of oxygen.
Freedom is the air is my lungs.
Carbon dioxide is natural until dominant.
She is the overbearing weight in the pit of my stomach.
I grab at my elastic skin tightly.
Hoping to rip out the part where I swallowed her whole.
She was my sister I never had.
Yet I love her still.
I must go.



Is there any room for me here?
I know there's just one seat left in the back of
this bus. I sat quietly next to you.
Watching your almond eyes flicker with the patches of sunlight
peering in from just beyond the reinforced glass windows.
I can't help myself. It's obvious how necessary you are to me.
I laugh at myself. "I'm doing it again." I chuckle. I guffaw.
I erupt. You notice me. I want to disappear now.
Just relive the moment where our eyes locked in that brief
exchange of fates. I cling to hope. You flee from love. Including
mines. Am I not worth your time?
You return to the same seat near the reinforced windows next to me the next day.
You smile at me. I melt.

Illogical

Don't you find it perplexing that none of my blogs really explicitly describe my life?
Everything is often vague, and hinting. However, somehow I consider this blog an online diary, of my life. One that can be accessed by anyone who may arbitrarily stumble into my realm of virtual fixation (harmless addiction)--merely cyberspace, to someday be deleted and therefore extinguished, as if it never was. This lacking permanence and public necessity has convinced me the best personal experiences are written in books. And not in cyberspace. (FYI: I spent months removing my xanga account, and my name and that account still pop up on Google.)

Nothing is desperately escaping my mind to type. I just need to draw, scribble. Listen at open mics, and continue my activism. My environmental participation has yet to reach the level where I do not feel the need to blog any of it.

I'm a lover of literature, so you would think I'd wanna write. There will come a time.
That time is not now. Hibernating. In my little green pea-coat (spellcheck corrected me...), intermediate locks, and herbal addicted mainframe. I am the girl laying in the grass staring up at infinite skies, the lover of social interaction from a distance, the visionary of holistic necessity, and the keeper of your secrets.

It's all in a day's work.
And whisperer of prayers. Can't forget that.

Responsible

When I wake up each day I don't think of you any less than the last.You have left the greatest imprints and it weighs on my core like an anchored ship.I cannot lift this. I presume time will provide me with all answers, and meanwhile I press forth without regrets. For I know my feelings are true, they will not go. Some people come in your life, and leave nothing behind, and some people practically leave a piece of themselves. I wish I could run after you and give some of this back. Done forcing myself into people's lives.
Let them come. Because they remain welcome with open arms.
In my dreams, my internal workings are still purging.
I don't know if I could ever want another man. Only Jah could answer that.
For me, relationships have procured a deep thorn, that once pulled causes so much blood to spout forth that only one surgeon could alleviate.
My life does not revolve around my heart, as I continue to love others I internally question will they eventually get to close or ask too much?
These are things I do not wish to answer.
For now, the silent days will whisper healing words that when I listen closely,
I feel at peace.

Hungry Remix from Bent is so the most serene melody I've heard in my life.

I run to you. You inspire me to the red of my core.
As I laugh and clutch the dandelion, I close my eyes feeling the sun’s rays wash over my
Coppertone exterior. I am ready for you and all of your warmth.
My body has never felt so in tune with my spirit.
I bite into a smooth spongy sweet substance placed before me.
Blueberries.
Each moment is more precious than the one before it.
You sprinkle cool water down on me as I run for cover, I stop, realizing this is your gift.
No one is here but me and you. And this beautiful earth of course.
I couldn’t imagine life without you here.
Please, always be here. With me.

Out of harmony

Rejection, the affliction.
A disease, my depiction
Of life around the majority
Masses, Jurassic.
Can you just accept that I am only but so elastic?
Never been plastic.
Just knowing what is essential, surrounding
Me.
I fight for nothing more than your support, our freedoms
Free--
Is not as simple as our idolatries.
Touch, me as I out stretch my hand to thee, finally exposing --
All of my flaws and idiosyncrasy…
I crumple inside,
Just like them you too expect something, like porcelain.
I am no more perfect than I have ever been.
But now it seems I am untouchable.
An eruption of pain bursts from my lungs
Asking Jah why must I seek such a man
I expect nothing more than a thank you and perhaps understanding
Infinitely intertwined,
It is at last your turn to do the collapsing.

As usual, homework

As Mas and I sat in the car yesterday, he reminded me of how much I used to write and the power of verbal expression.

Here goes something.

This connection is beyond resurrection
I don't rhyme so don't be fooled, forthat's a misconception.
My best words neither rhyme nor show regression.
They are violitile, erratic, silly, and defy, it's a preference.
So learn the lesson, I have need for depth perception
I am quite beyond your average, your exception, no question.


I missed being in close quarters with you for so long, when I was back in your arms
I only longed to be on my way again.
I must ask Jehovah is there something wrong with me?
It feels like permanence is not in the cards at this moment.
I love you. I love you. I just want to be on my own.
But would you love me if you knew everything about me?
Because in my humble opinion you know nothing.
It is a 10% that I feel is grasped at our stage, and yet still somehow I managed
to give you the deepest part of me. For that, I feel the pang of retribution.
A justice waiting to surface.

Do you feel like I know anything about you?
I feel I have an idea. I see you and then you are gone tommorow.
We live very seperate lives, practically different realms, on opposite
sides of the glass. We steal away fragments in time together,
only to undo what we've redone.
I feel I could stay with you forever, my soul is snatched away again.
Love should not be pressured like this.
Free to be with or without. But for now, I want you to know
I can't stay. I can't lie. Love is patient.

I can wait. Finally.