"This is a ruthless world
and one must be ruthless to cope with it."

October 14th, 2014

            We were meant to collide, explode, and create something so unfixable that I’d be lost looking for the pieces of your bones that once were one with mine. Remember when I was what you thought about, in the morning and before you got the fear out of your chest before arriving to school? I was always told that I was the one who was going to save you, but it was forgotten that you didn’t need any saving. So when the explosion happened, oh god did it happen. Our bones flew faster than the SR-71, and I can’t remember if I was holding your hand or your waist. It was fun, at first, but like everything else the joy soon becomes a pain. It’s much simpler than I once thought.

            It all makes sense to me sometimes. You were meant to make my mind race, inspire me, build some crazy idea of success into the skull of mine. You went beyond that, now I have cities inside of my brain that contain people with passions, millions and trillions of dreams and goals and their ambition rushes through my chest. I can’t help but run around and shake my body around to the sound of songs that illuminate the city. Like all cities, like all places and people, rainy days come and go, and I’ve learned that it’s easier to dance to the storm than it is to run from the storm. When it all comes down to it we’re just animals, that were psychologically programmed to adapt to our surrounding. Chemistry is explained through the way my heart beats faster when you’re brought up, and social sciences are tested between us through each day.
            I studied, and I studied until I couldn’t read anymore. My hands were shaking, and I couldn’t remember the last time my head felt so heavy. I wanted to know every inch of your mind, every inch of your body with my eyes. I wanted it all, and I forgot to study about how greed defines defeat. Because when you were around, and I was given the chance to ask you how you’ve been I raced to harder questions, and I threw you back into where we began. Out of sight, and out of mind we were and that’s where we remain.

            I’m not exactly sure who I want to be in the future, or what I want to do, or how I’m going to get there. One minute I fall in love with the romance in the air through the fall weather in Pennsylvania, and the next anxiety fills my chest when I think of a life without the chill of Michigan. I wonder too often if I’m going to reach a point where I missed out, where the thrill is gone. I think, and I think and I think until I can’t stand to even talk to myself about how there’s going to come a day where I’m done, where nothing excites my heart like it quite used to. I just want to be okay with who you are, and what I am, and who I want to become, and where we will never be. 

October 13th, 2014

            The world is flying around me, I watch it as it passes by. I’m indecisive, I should be chasing it, but I shouldn’t because I don’t know what I want. Bodies covered in too many layers of clothing, welcome to the season of depression. I feel it rushing through my veins, gliding through my blood like I’ve been taken control of. I would open my eyes but what’s the use when you can’t remember how to see?

            Sometimes it all feels like a game to me. If you’re not living on the edge then you’re not making a difference, and if you’re not trying your hardest you’re not trying at all. Never let anyone know too much, not even if you’re confident about it. Fix yourself in the morning before you leave the door closed, because forbid you be seen on a day where you thought twice before looking in the mirror. Winner, that’s all we get at the end of the day for this kind of life. Stress and some word that means nothing in the end of this craziness. Don’t be too loud, however you better say something, you wouldn’t want to be known as the quite one. Be humble, but don’t let yourself become walked upon. Confident, but not arrogant, there’s so many thin lines that create faults and cracks and earthquakes soon enough shake the ribs under our skin. Skeletons fall inside of our bodies, down to the ground and we give it some romanticized title of death. But what’s pure in that? What’s pure in competing to be someone?
            Because when your older you’re older, and sooner or later you regret regretting instead of doing. That one that got away is suddenly the one you can’t remember, and the hours you spent crying over them just adds up to the abstract stop watch timing how long you made it before your skeleton joined the rest against the ground. The clothes you wore rip and tare, and your body changes and doesn’t wear quite as well. You start to forget those songs that made your heart race, but worse you start to forget how it felt when your heart would race. Suddenly you start to wonder how it feels to feel because we’re all just abandoned alone at the end. Your senior prom isn’t going to care how much you cried because your boyfriend didn’t dance with you how you wanted him to, but you’re going to wish you had danced just a little more.

            You can read all about those places you want to be in the new paper, or watch those videos of the places you want to be on television, or worse become a product of technology and forget how it feels to actually touch something made from nature because you’ve become too comfortable watching it grow after twelve hours on your phone. Your legs will stop working like they used to, and you won’t be able to run like you always told yourself you would. The goals across the field will no longer be an inspiration but a memory that only brings back nostalgic thought of what you once wanted to do. Your generation becomes irrelevant, because when you take a closer look it’s about what’s in than what’s been done. Sure, you found a cure for cancer, but there’s no reward in secrecy. No reward in a mind left to stop expanding early.

            When I sit and think about where I want to be there’s no answers. I want to be where I feel happiest, and challenge. I want to be where I feel my stomach decipher emotions faster than my mind ever could. Somewhere where the water is blue, and the sky becomes the horizon. But how can I ever accomplish this when I too have become a product of the technology generation. A break free is somewhere, but I haven’t found an app that tells me where that is. And that’s what scares me. 

October 10th, 2014

          The mornings have been foggy, fall seems to be sitting in faster than usual this year. My feet turn into ice when they touch the cold ground, I don’t mind. My body covered in goosebumps, this is all too familiar, strange how you’re not the one to cause these bumps this time. I appreciate fall as much as I can, because it treats me nicer than you had. Cold, but sensitive, I wouldn’t want to make the leaves fall any quicker. The sun sets earlier each night, and my bed becomes more of a shelter than somewhere to rest. Lights illuminate the room, and I romanticize how it would feel with your body next to mine. There’s never enough heat under these sheets. 
          After a while I realized that you weren’t coming back, and it’s easier to accept this every day. Sometimes I still struggle to sleep at night, but I blame the caffeine instead of thoughts of you. My journal has been dry lately, and the dent in my index finger is now from taking notes. I’ve found that there’s other ways to feel good aside from thinking of how much you had once claimed to care. 

          When the snow starts to fall It’s going to be somewhat bittersweet. Closure will come then, and all those things I’ve been worrying about will have been answered. Struggles will become less of a problem, and the days will pass by quicker. My feet will still freeze like ice, and my bed won’t get any warmer than it feels when I’m under the sheets. Sometimes, I forget that things are what they. That life will continue to pass by, and that I need to make a decision on my own. 

October 7th, 2014

                You’re the sunrise in my eyes at six in the morning before I want to crawl out of bed. The mornings are cold, but your face flowing through my mind warms my body. I’m surrounded by you even when you’re not around, it’s bittersweet. I promised myself it wouldn’t hurt this much, but you’re the sound of cars passing by at five in the afternoon, the sound of wind gusting through my window at nine before I go to bed. It seems like as the night approaches, you become more of a fear than a relief.

            If you were to come back I’m still struggling with finding a way to let you in. My walls built up higher than mountains when you left, I’m cold now. I can’t seem to be sincere when I’m talking to passing faces in the halls at school. It’s hard when you only want to be alone. It’s even harder when you want as much company at the same time. All I have though is the sound of you dancing across my stomach, flipping and twirling and spinning, I’ve somehow correlated feeling sick with how I think it would feel to hold your hand.
            I think I might be doing alright, today. It’s easier some days than others, and today I signed myself over to a school for the next four years. Maybe. You’ll be there, and I hate to admit it but I couldn’t sleep without at least attempting to get closer to you. Even if you can’t remember how I sound before I fall asleep, or what drives me to wake up in the morning.

            All I need is something to feel alive again, some sort of adrenaline to pump through my bones. I’ve been feeling a bit out of lately, and people are starting to catch on. I hate answering questions that have no answer. You can’t just tell someone that you’re going to be better in the future, because that never seems to be enough for someone. All I need is for you to come back, because I’ve been playing you like a broken record every day, and I know all the words to each track of the album you’ve created. It gets easier to be unhappy when you’re so indulged in this love. 

October 6th, 2014

          Ever since I was younger I had a way of keeping people on the edge of their seats around me. I was daring, and the lucky at the least. From a car flipping at 80 miles per hour, to transitioning into who I’ve become through these eighteen years, I’ve been given some infamous title of edge.

            It’s incredible when you realize how significant you are as a person. I was given an opportunities to make a change, and each time one comes my way I seize it. Learning to accept that life isn’t easy, and very spiteful at that, I’ve become comfortable with change. I’ve heard it all, lucky, blessed, incredible phenomena but I like to stay humble through it all.
            These next few months are all on the brim of nothing, and something. It’s a risk, it’s all a risk and if there’s anyone who can settle on a risk, I like to think it’s myself. There’s some sort of adrenaline when you’re always on the edge, there’s some kind of thrill when you’re making heads turn. I’d like to think that I have an incredible path ahead of me, one that will not stay quiet. 

October 6th, 2014

            In many ways, as a teenager, I’ve learned that your life is in a spotlight. Impressions are made in front of teachers, and your parents and family hope to see the best; while also watching your bad decisions play out. People in your school, you’re the famous one and they’re all watching. Everyone’s famous in high school, everyone knows your name, and everyone knows where you’re going. Who you were talking with, who you’re going to be drinking with, who you traded your soul with. You’re in the spotlight, and it becomes competitive, and somewhat hard not to break under this pressure.

            Someone told me that a person liked me, because I seemed like someone he would like to talk with. I found this funny, because that same people thinks that about a lot of people. See, my aspiration is to love someone who I would be proud of. Not the one who can’t stay awake during their first period classes. I’m a bit uneasy too, I don’t want too much to be known. Being an open book becomes hard, and usually gets you in trouble - I learned that the hard way. So I took some time, and I went away, picked up the pieces and came back. It seems nicer this way, for some reason, people correlate mysteriousness with people that don’t speak much. Apparently this is attractive. I like to dance though, and I want to be with someone who likes to dance as much as I do, and I’m not that great at dancing either. I like music though, and when the music is just loud enough it doesn’t really matter how well I can dance. Someone who strives to better their self, educate their self, I like that.
            I always thought I was in love, and that love was going to be compared to the rest for eternity. I was wrong though, because the one I loved didn’t like to dance. He was a little too quiet, and I guess it was easy to say the wrong thing. Once, or twice, or for the sixth time in a week. How childish of myself to forget that asking how your day went came off too strong, should have known better. I turned the pressure around, and I became somewhat superior to emotions. I love myself, that’s not a bad thing. Don’t admit it though, the more people know the more they’ll talk. Big dreams lie ahead of me, and I need to achieve those dreams on my own.

            I learned that I like those who I speak to less than those I talk to constantly, I found that the more you know about someone the more they expect. That’s not the kind of love I want. 

October 5th, 2014

I am victorious, see I am the winner.
Not an end you had expected,
I defeated the game before it had started.

The strings of grass were pulled from the ground,
and I rooted them in the sky.
Now it rains dirt,
now it rains harder than before.

Shades cover my eyes, I can’t handle the dark.
When the dirt falls, the game has ended.
You can’t be a winner if you never participated,
you can’t beat the odds if you never tried.
I am the winner,
I can’t get hurt. 

October 5th, 2014

            The radio plays around the room, and I wonder where I am. This isn’t my room, and I can’t recall how I got here. I can’t feel my hands, and my face is colder than the winters in Siberia. I can see my breath filling the room around me, and fear sharpens in my stomach. This happens too often. I see that I’ve been dropped off somewhere new, and nothing seems to make sense until each piece is put together. I’ll recover, and be on another way to happiness, until you come back to pick me up and drop me somewhere new. I shouldn’t have to do this, it wasn’t like this when we were younger. It felt easier to stay up all night with you, and listen to the dreams you had. You wanted to do it all, because you believed in yourself like I once believed in you too. The world was in front of you, and all you had to do is grasp onto it and run. You never did though, because something went wrong along the way. Something made you afraid.
            So now you take your fear out on me, because I was all you ever knew. I was all that you ever loved, all you knew how to speak of and how to love. Now you use your passion for the wrong reasons, throwing around suggestions of love as if you actually know what you’re talking about. Because, it’s so much easier to be angry than it is to swallow your pride, right?

            There’s no way that you can fix this, but if you said sorry things would be easier. Maybe then you could become someone who I once knew. Someone that wasn’t afraid to have dreams, and a big heart. Someone who knew that you needed to be intelligent, but not arrogant. You knew to be humble, but not weak because that wasn’t who you were.

            But now you count the minutes between each hour and plot what move is next, ruthlessly thinking of what words string together in the perfect tone to take my ribs in your hands and break them to pieces. Now you can’t remember who you are, and what you once wanted to do. You’re just as wise as I, but we’re on different levels now. Between morning and night, there’s no way to say you managed to turn this around.