Maybe, Just Maybe. . .

I don't think I can get through this anymore. Maybe I don't want to get through this. You let me down one too many times, you left me when I needed you the most. You gave up. Maybe, just maybe I enjoy the countless nights of laying in bed thinking, just thinking. I could never stop my tears from flowing. I could never keep you from leaving. Maybe I'm not scared anymore, maybe this is all temporary. You will never understand was I have been through. And maybe, just maybe it's time to let go.

Rest In Peace

My aunt died today, but I didn't really know her. But it's polite to respect the dead, so this post is going to be dedicated to her.

Ce Soir

You have been gone for so long. And tonight I will steal you back. Drunken with sleep, I will raise from my bed, hopelessly, vainly searching for you. You have been gone for far too long, I desperately need you. Desperately need to steal you back into my arms. My footsteps are almost mechanical, one foot right after the other. No, it won't be glorious and no, it won't be romantic, but I can assure you that it will be right. My eyes shift feverishly back and forth scanning the darkness for you. Yes, I may regret this and yes, you may be ashamed, but nobody ever said it would be easy. No matter how hard I search, the song remains the same. Hideous mockeries thrown themselves onto my path, but I know that they'll never come close to your deep brown eyes and jet black hair. I have grown weary of our dance and it seems as if my feet are betraying me. My soul is betraying me. Tonight I will steal you back, even for just a second.

Thoughts About Finals

I have never worried about mid terms and finals. Until now. I'm taking my Algebra II mid term tomorrow and this can make or break me. On the discussion about fear and grades, I couldn't help but think (And been influenced by Lily) that grades don't define my intelligence, my capabilities, or my life. All I hear my friends talk about is how good their grades are but to be frank, they're not as smart as their grades reveal them to be. I believe the only time a person is truly smart is when they are able to be creative. Whether it be in music, film, art, writing, I view the creative arts as what ultimately defines your intelligence. The creative art forces you to drop all preconceived notions of the surrounding world and urges you to think deeper. It truly is beautiful when a mind is worked to it's fullest potential through the creative arts.

Howl

Quite vulgar at times, but nonetheless interesting captivating! The film wonderfully ties censorship, expression and love into an hour and thirty minutes. One of the best movies I have seen this year! And can best be described as  a hidden gem. Looking forward to reading the book as well.

Life Goes On

The only time writers', musicians' and artists' professional life truly thrive is when their personal lives are in decline. This is what desire without hope feels like. It's almost like clockwork, the knot in your throat comes up when you know you're about to cry, the feeling of continuous treatments of shock therapy. The struggle a couple goes through while trying to preserve that last spark. This is what both notorious artists and amateurs go through daily just to produce a single piece of music or sketch. However, in our writing, our music, and our art we are able to reflect these pains, because we know that life goes on. Sure that knot will turn into full on tears, but crying is liberating. Sure the shock therapy will hurt, but we can think it will cure us. Sure our relationship is falling apart, but it will make room for new, better relationships. This is why we write, play, and draw even if it feels like all hope is lost, we have something to believe in. Something to reactivate our mechanical hearts. Something to let us know we're still alive.

You Only Live Twice

I don't know where to go from here. I've burned through all my options. All that I've worked for, all that we have worked for, gone. All gone. What now? I suppose I can run away and join the circus. Or perhaps I can learn how to pick pocket. Maybe change my name and live in a small town growing tomatoes? It seems as though I have one option left, to slowly, but surely rise from my ashes. I have already died, so what else do I have to lose? Once more I will be reborn into something new, something powerful, something great. I will continue to grow until I am far from what I am right now.

Desperation

For the past few weeks, months, and even years, I have been craving a male companionship. And I must say it's quite unhealthy. I'm so desperate to feel desired, to feel needed, and to feel loved, that this deep longing has blinded me. I look for salvation in other men, when I really should be looking within myself. It truly scares, my desperation that is, so much that I believe it will ultimately be my downfall.