Tuesday, December 30, 2008

I love Katy Perry.

I don't like how the actor from Kyle XY is the guy, because I think Kyle XY is lame. But I love Katy Perry. And I like this song a lot /:

Inconsistencies Somehow Make Me Consistent


"Those that are tore to shreds in the moment that you were in two dimensions
Just two dimensions"

So marred by the things I can never say.

I need my silence to be broken. I need some encouragement that I don't have to banter with vague and ambiguous words that never lets anyone in. I, though it feels like I try, never let anybody in. I should understand, I should've known it'd hurt any which way how.

It is safe to say that I've left parts of my self fragmented in different house, different hands, different hearts. And I can't put it back together because I've lost count and forgot where exactly I'd left all of myself. Or I know, I remember, but of course, I won't tell you, because I won't even tell myself. I just keep thinking that I deserve to have a fork hanging out of my rib cage and a little label reading DONE.

Is it safe to say that I've tried? It's probably safer to say that I am stupendous at pushing and shoving and hanging up the phone and pretending like I really don't have anything to say. When all it is, is that I can open my mouth, but I know it'll just be me and the dial tone in the end. Or maybe just the hush sound of my breath.

What I'd done wrong was disregard the realization that no one has ever really tried before, so what was the exception this time? I am beneath the doubts, swallowed by a wonder when I'll be good enough, and wallowing what I'd really done wrong.

I know,

I waited for time to peek the profile of its self and for me to brace it when I see what I'd been seeking. And I think it's here, and it came as I'd least expect that greatness of being below the heart of someone that I didn't belong to. And it wasn't fair of me. To partially love.

Here we go,

I'm screwing with paragraphs again, to fill in the empty spaces where you left your mark. And I come back to that. Because which blankness I'd take on for the next week to tell me that this is it, it slips and I forget to get it back. There is only one thing of me,
And what is it to be broken when you were once complete?

What is it to be incomplete?

I'm sorry.

I'm always sorry...

Saturday, December 27, 2008

I'm Not Much of a Talker Though I've So Much to Say

Endings Without Stories

"I watched the smile fade from your face
You bled till there was nothing in your veins"

So, it's always so quiet.

I was always good with secrets. Not today. I'm just so sure they know. I'm just so sure they always knew.

There is no such trust that runs its way so dynamically, not even with myself. I can't even tell myself. Maybe if the truth stays on my bed where I leave it every morning, it won't have to think of me.

I built it this way. Suffice to say that there won't be anything left but the boldness of a cold night that heated through, when denial dissipates and all of the days fall down in front of me like I'd never sinned before. It was never the fault's fault that had me questioning the momentum I'd taken. That we'd taken. Because I know that faults had been set where they display flawed cracks of chances that enveloped no such luck. There is no such luck for the faces that set like mine, where they display flawed cracks of obstructions that revoked themselves once I'd ever committed.

I built it in a way that I can shatter my own barriers. That I can set limits that gave me the opportunity to set it limitless any which way. I do not trust the hands that appoint themselves in initiative to me as if this whole hoax of a life stood a chance. It won't be long, and that's all I need to say to myself to pretend it all just isn't happening.

With all honesty--though honesty left all of us with out a choice but to believe again in this whole hoax of a notion that there is a truth--it isn't happening. The pretense to pretend that it all just isn't happening when all I mean to say is that nothing is happening, and I won't do anything about it.

If they know, then I'll seal myself shut. And perhaps in the near future I can get myself to stab it on paper, though I see it as just a chance to ignite the lighter and set it on fire, watch it burn in front of the dark and behind it is me, watching me not happening, at all.

There is nothing more perplexing than my hopelessness, hopefulness, and the reminder that I have built it in this way that you all know with out really knowing anything. Anything at all.

I'm sorry.
I'm always sorry.

Thursday, December 25, 2008

The Curious Case...

Baby, It's Cold Outside

"Can't you stay awhile longer?"

So, hail shook and crashed down our roofs and opened my eyes to what looked like, a disturbed morning. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, not till the afternoon. It should've been so dull. The uneventful event of the constant spaghetti enjoyment and the DVD mayhem and the house only quiet to the tender music that made me think of you.
But we kept exclaiming, "THIS IS THE BEST CHRISTMAS EVER!" Well, this was the quietest Christmas. Compared to the previous year's packing to leave the country, and the year before that. I can only recall sitting in front of the computer and gaining some friendships. I liked it.

My family and I went to see The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. I was excited to expect the theaters to be uncrowded, and nearly empty. But it was astonishing to see that we couldn't even find ONE decent parking space because the whole Landing was infested with The Nothing Better To Do's. But I suppose that's a lot for me to say, counting that WE we're there.

All of the night's complications were interesting to experience.

3 hour movie, I loved it.

Anyway, I don't feel a sense of creativity to be playful at the moment. I'll just rant. Therefore; Happy Holidays my Not-Readers, aha, 'cause like anybody really reads this.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

So, I should let myself put it this way.

I saunter through every which way I can break it, I can go back to it, I can let it swallow me whole and maybe, like I want to, I can disappear. But as it swallows me whole, I just provoke, and provoke and it's as if I never wanted anything but the comfort of BEING swallowed whole. Never though, I never disappear.

It is too warm in my quarters. It is too comfortable, it is too unkind, as it patronizes me and unleashes the advocate in the devil. With just that, glassy eyes to the ceiling, mouth partially open, I refuse to even defend myself anymore. Just a little sensitive, they know I can't take it. Maybe he does too. Or maybe he hasn't caught on.

"There is something wrong with me..." And I stop there, right before I think I might be able to release. They won't understand, they won't look at it the same. But I feel like they know. Like they knew before I did. They just don't know what it is I have the potential to do.

Never on paper because I don't expect you to understand...

The every single night, I open the door to the cold, your shoes just put on, and you pull me out with you, I was capable of letting myself. Eyes like I've never seen them before. They're so small, so dark, and gentle as ever. You felt so strong just then, like you can take me over and take me on and even as I refuse and deny you, you could've won me. You could've had me pegged just then. Just then, but I still could never belong to anybody.

What I'd give to see you like that the every single time. What I'd give to have you look at me like that, the every single time.

Just then.


Monday, December 22, 2008

Me and my fucking faces, I swear I would really hurt it.

"You're the meanest person I know!" You're right babe. And you don't even know the half of it.

Leave me be. Leave me alone. Leave me at all. And I know you won't.

4 days from now, 3 months ago. "Would you like some company?" And my fucking world changed.

I keep swearing. I swear I won't keep it.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Prioritizing At Worst


"Use me up
Use me up
Taper off and I'm had"

Dry, cold air. My favorite..

Nothing clever to say, nothing insane enough to be abstract about. I hate the weather, I hate the morning. I hate the night, awake as itself, endeavored by failed attempts, failed executions. My executions. Disdain accentuated by nothing I can really think of... Just a thought I could disappear today, tonight, maybe tomorrow. But I don't. But I don't think I'd care. But I don't know. And here we go again.

What's it take to keep me up at night? To get me up when the sun's rises? To have me standing through the afternoon?
I have an idea, I have a notion. Let me just slap myself around a few times, beat my insides out, and tell me I'm no good for nothin'. That always works. No? Too bad.

I have to get back to my quarters now. I have to find a really good reason exhaust myself with the best of the most infuriating. I have to rest it on spin cycle, rinse, repeat. And back to where my contours rest. With two...

Monday, December 15, 2008

Sounds Like A Rainy Day

Two Days, It's Unusual

I'm Not A Thief, I'm a Treasure Hunter

"I think it's safe to say you're deadly in your own way"

But it's safer to say that I'm an asshole in my own way.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.
Sometimes, I think about it. If I'd consider. But,
Inescapable; was that the word I'd used before?


Instead of being better for you, I'm only growing worse.

I'm sorry..
I'm always sorry..

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Even the Fox Couldn't Keep Me Safe

Give 'Em Hell, Kid

"If you were here I'd never have a fear
So go on live your life
But I miss you more than I did yesterday"

I said to him, "She's one of the most important people in my life. I thought you should know that, if anything."

And if he understood how I came off, I guess I'll find out.

To dim the fact that I'm not so sick after all, well, I'm just a liar. I try to smile above it and polish it off. But in the end of the day, I lay in bed committing infidelities in my own head. Same song, same lines, and this isn't really happening.

And I try to swallow the fact that I can't feel anything anymore, that nothing can penetrate. As it's been sung to me more times that I can imagine. It's not true.
It won't ever be.

I wrote a warning letter. I'd never sent.

My sister said I'm such a bitch. She's right. Only someone with a right mind wouldn't do the things I do. Wouldn't say the things I do. Wouldn't think the things I do.

And I don't know where this little entry has taken me, but here I am.

What I deserve will come for me, and so I hold my breath for the rest...

Friday, December 12, 2008

Afro Picks, White Jeans, and a Nice Little Story that Hasn't Ended

Cold Light

"Cold light, Hot night
Be my heater be my lover"

Friday I'm in loooooooooooove - At least SOMEONE understood that I was wearing The Cure shirt. No Joker, you bops [sorta].

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

My whole left jaw is numb.

The dentist's office is cold, and reeks of clean and artificial aerosol spray berry wonders. I daze in complete nonsense every time I spend my patience in there. Today, I napped on their couch and didn't even give a fuck that I might've looked like a dead bum lain across.

I really.. I really need a release. Vent?

I have dependent and reliant problems. Being in a relationship [which, I have to admit, is still a little foreign and new again to me] requires me to let go of all these things that I'd acquired from the duration of my being single It's not difficult to adapt. It's just something...
I am...very afraid of losing the sense of my independence. It was all I'd had for such a long time. I don't intend on investing my all. I can't really afford that. I just, I don't know how much that could hurt him and I.
My friends; well my friends. I tell myself everyday to keep my eyes on them. To keep a light, kung-fu grip on them. If I'd hesitated about anything, it would've been the worry of growing away from my friends. Honestly, I shudder at the thought of me, spending ALL my time with my boyfriend. If I could, I would. If nothing in my life would collapse and fall and if time stood still, then I would be more than happy and satisfied to be with just him. But I can't lose balance. What happens if I lose him? [which I could. No forevers, people break up you know] Then I'd be more than a little alone. All I'm being is...cautious and wary. It gets rough trying though. I'm starting to reach a state when all I want is his company. Bad Angie, bad.

Fuck, listen to me rant like a teenager. How irritating, I sound like the rest of you.

Sorry ! x:

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Precisely Indefinite

Nothing Better

"Don't you feed me lines about some idealistic future
Your heart won't heal right if you keep tearing out the sutures"

I'm always stealing. Taking. Covetting. Denying. And lying.

The night was revealing. Soft and satisfied as I took some air, sinner at its most innocent. Door swung open through to the right just the television and it's right-minded lies. I sound brain-dead in a sense that you around me, more passionless than I'd ever be. I'm sorry, but it's true if anything. Oh, right. I'd been narrating about my night.
Less is more that now I feel the want exuding out of hungry hands, shoulders, welcoming chest. Bleeding lips and a gasp of air, tangling hair. They won't know, just one more to promise. Fighting a struggle to resist, rapacious strokes.
Enamored by the concepts of body parts and the imaginative intense tenses of adjectives that seem famished and inflamed. Exaggeration is the escape enough to satisfy my dismal functions.

Sunday, December 7, 2008

At Loss of a Desire to go off on a Tangent

The Faint and Precious Sounds

"In the event of your unfulfillment don't replace me in that sorry state, oh no
Know that it all seems so intriguing
When thoughts of me start leaving you behind, behind
And I hope you, you understand that I'm not leaving, going anywhere
Hope that you, you understand that I'm not leaving, going anywhere"

The weekend has given me a good opportunity to increase the reassurance that I need what I want to need.

I am in control. I should be in control. I will be in control.
Team Jacob; hahax3

Friday, December 5, 2008

Rude and Loud; x3

Wait Until I'm Gone

"You always were...
You always were so good to me"

It's about time I stopped brooding away my ways of writing. Ha, can't take the kid from the dark, take the dark from the kid. Yes, thank you.
I just began writing about my day on here.
Summarizing the events I'd done and how I'd felt the past few days in a direct and completely comprehensible way for ANYONE. But it felt ridiculously tedious and unlike me. So I highlighted it all, and hit backspace.

I sit here now, with still the thoughts of today and the every type of emotion that flashed and didn't flash across my face.
I no longer count the amount of moments we try say good bye. Someone has to watch someone walk away.
We're just not allowed to leave...

I've stolen. I'm wanting. I'm taking. But I dream of something else.

How it goes tonight, we'll see.

Letter # 8; It gets harder, worse, and easier everyday. Kill me now while I'm smiling. Or you could kill me now 'cause I must deserve it.

Thursday, December 4, 2008



'When we're gone I feel I'll never miss anyone"

The safest and the warmest, where I'd left my mark I intended on keeping, as if I'd withdrawn from my memories and rose again to rest like I'd never rested before.

"Are you happy Angie?"

When I'm right where I could be, head lain across those shoulders.

"Are you happy Angie?"

When I'm right where I could be, heavy breaths to that chest.

"Are you happy Angie?"

When I'm right where I could be, just those hands in my pockets.

"Are you happy Angie?"

When I'm right where I could be, right where I should be.

The safest and the warmest, where I'd left my mark I intended on keeping, as if I'd withdrawn from my memories and rose again to rest like I'd never rested before.

Somebody wants me.


Wednesday, December 3, 2008

The Cure Knows Which Songs I Need to Put Me on Fire


"I catch your eyes in the dark
One look relives the memory..."

I've arts to show and teach Passion provocative means eye to eye flesh to flesh jumping skin down throats and necks Palms tepid, sultry grazing jaws Lips artfully traveling highways and bridges Delicate breaths deep-heavy, fast-slow Motion gather emotion around and around Eyes closed hard, biting and inviting through stories in absolute direct narration Decimating any space any air any crevice any breach Cave in next to me along the lines of my muffled sounds to soothe just to crave in with me Grasping the right heat to appease the frigid arctic collection in the tips of my fingers Inside small of the back rip down shoulders laying arms smoldering neck screaming my name, sighing my name, demanding my name…

I’ve been blessed and cursed with an explosive, intensive, and vehement passion only to be fused with a searing fervid desire that suppresses anything else to a pigmented gray blur.

I’ve a burning hole in my chest...

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

A Dearth of (my) Senses

I Can't Win

"Walking on the ground you're breaking
Laughing at the life you're wasting"

I'm lacking any comprehension of images to face and lines to read and people to converse with. I'm lacking any restraint to be resilient when it crashes right by my feet and blows up my face. I'm lacking any truth, the greater good always in mind. No, no I just don't have a choice. Utilitarian, never.

I'm lacking any logic. Logic could break your heart, not mine. Just complicated and bleak. Eleven seconds till I know where you are, till I know where I'll be. And through here, I strapped down, elevated by hopeless hopes just to descend in abysmal withdrawal.

I'm lacking any diversions cutting up my mentality. December that I'd win and lose from November thresholds when who I'd been when I entered would never be if I get out. I'm lacking any receptivity. Except when it comes to the red raw thing. In my room, out of control when I'd leave my compressed and impenetrable red raw thing beating steady somewhere. It thumps itself a reception closed to all with an exception.

Honestly, honestly, I'm lacking any composure. Because I'd left it on my bed where I'd lain my limbs and bones the night and nights before.

Monday, December 1, 2008

Multiple personalities.

I'd take in.

I'd be roughly 9 different people on paper, print, in words.

My words.

I don't know me either.

Nice and Slow

I Love, You Love

"Still return
Still return to love
Keep coming back to love"

He's not tall. He's not outgoing. He's not even my type.
He's the shy kid that used to be in his corner, pushing and forcing away the world he never wanted. Me, who he never intended.

He seemed all wrong to me.

I want him just the same.

So I'll soak in, sink close, pull near.

Patience and passion;

Just what I needed.

ARCHIVE, FUCKERS (for Ace-like purposes)