masterfade

The narrative of my life for the past few weeks have been tough, it has this awful reoccurring theme...
death.
death of all kinds...

mysterious, expected, sudden, and swaying on the line between life and death.

is this a message? do i need to wake up and carpe diem?

Death has always been a tough topic for me, the thought that the beautiful soul of any person could be gone within the blink of an eye pains me beyond reason.
it's cruel, and unjust but i guess "that's life..."

Today was the day i had to do the hardest thing i have ever had to do, and it was for the best, i think. I know that it was the right thing to do, but i feel like it was the wrong thing to do and i feel that way solely for selfish reasoning...

now the sun is coming up and i find myself unable to sleep, scared to face the surprises the next day will bring.

R.I.P
R.I.P
R.I.P
please don't become a R.I.P...

beneath the rainbow of your peace.

I dreamed you were a cosmonaut
of the space between our chairs
And I was a cartographer
of the tangles in your hair

I sang the song that silence sings
It's the one that everybody knows, everybody knows
The song that silence sings
And this is how it goes

These looms that weave apocrypha
they're hanging from a strand
The dark and empty rooms were full
of incandescent hands

The awkward pause
The fatal flaw
Time, it's a crooked bow
Time is a crooked bow

In time you need to learn, to love
The ebb just like the flow
Grab hold of your bootstraps, and pull like hell
until gravity feels sorry for you, and lets you go
As if you lack the proper chemicals to know
the way it felt the last time you let yourself fall this low

Time's a crooked bow
Time's a crooked bow
Time, it's a crooked bow

Fifty-five and three-eighths years later
At the bottom of a gigantic crater
An armchair calls to you
Yeah, and armchair calls to you
It says, someday, we'll get back at them all
With epoxy and a pair of pliers
As ancient sea slugs begin to crawl
through the ragweed and barbed wire

You didn't write
You didn't call
It didn't cross your mind at all
Through the waves
waves of hay and straw
You couldn't feel a thing at all
Fifty-five and three-eighths
Time
Fifty-five and three-eighths
Time

Time.

-Armchairs
-- Andrew Bird

enemies.

when even your own friends underestimate your abilities, you only have yourself (and probably your mom) to view them as worthy.

so, this is the new year and i don't feel any different...

what a PERFECT start to 2009.

Israel declaring an "all out war" on Gaza
..it's terrible, the bombings of government buildings and civilians, killing hundreds of people. why? i'd say "free palestine", but picking a side in this issue seems like playing with a double edged sword. dangerous and pointless.

erm, almost heartbroken-ness.
resolution 1: stop facebook stalking, sometimes you will stumble upon things you really shouldn't see.
you know that sinking feeling inside of your body that is the unwelcome presence of a broken heart?

it's almost 7 am. i have yet to sleep, mascara running down my face, and a bubbling stomach, the result of settling alcohol.
i'm lying here between my bed frame without a mattress contemplating the good that came with the year 2008, what did i accomplish? how have i grown? changed?
I can't think of one single thing...
i'm weary of leading a life unlived. I always swore I would live life to the fullest, "carpe diem", leave no rock unturned, no cave unsearched?

apparently i'm failing? wait, no not apparently, I am failing. i have everything i could ever want or need, a good family, wealth, health, a level of physical decency, intelligence, talent.. yet i'm wasting it all.. but what for? days of sitting on the futon watching house, pining, and eating cheese.

exactly.

making resolutions is so difficult for me, but i can try to implement change based on all that happened this past year...

Stop missing life changing moments. resolution 2: go for what I want in life, don't let the ever so controlling emotion of fear get in my way...

*january 1st 2009*

... my first full day in the year of 2009 filled with pitifulness. My feet are in deathly pain from 2 straight days of walking in 4 inch heels, I woke up at 4:30 in the afternoon, i got drunk at my parents dinner party off green apple martinis, and I ended the day with a a bang by viewing my startlingly similar looking competition...

...really heartbreaking.
but, all or nothing at all. why waste time crying for something that might have been? yea i'm invested, but half of anything never appealed to me.

but fuck that, it's 2009, a new year with new resolutions, resolution 3: stop drinking so damn much, and new experiences. I don't want another meaningless 2008, i want to find love, i want to get sexy fit, i want to do well in school, i want to find direction...

i want to develop kalyah as kalyah was made to be.
//corny.

time was invented by those who do not know how to love...

The Guitar

It begins, the lament
of the guitar.
The wineglass of dawn
is broken.
It begins, the lament
of the guitar.
It’s useless to silence it.
Impossible
to silence it.
It cries monotonously
as the water cries,
as the wind cries
over the snow.
Impossible
to silence it.
It cries for
distant things.
Sands of the hot South
that demand white camellias.
It cries arrows with no targets,
evening with no morning,
and the first dead bird
on the branch.
Oh, the guitar!
Heart wounded deep
by five swords.

-Lorca.

my friend and fellow blogger, wilhelmina (http://margotvellocet.blogspot.com/), brought this poem to my attention. She said it reminded her of my favorite painting, the old guitarist by Picasso. I agree, though my feelings on it are so deeply imbedded in my own passions that it essentially takes on a different meaning.

eternal devotion to music.

that even at the brink of death, at the point of destitution, music will forever remain.

AGH!! beautiful.

in the wee small hours of the morning.

"In the wee small hours of the morning
While the whole wide world is fast asleep
You lie awake and think about the girl
And never ever think of counting sheep

When your lonely heart has learned its lesson
Youd be hers if only she would call
In the wee small hours of the morning
Thats the time you miss her most of all"
-frank sinatra

it sucks.
my reactions to my actions are always anticipated, thought out by the second.
when it gets down to it, i fail.
i want this more then ever, but too much is at stake.
for me.

ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
I'm an ENFp, so concentrated on being liked, emotional and so outgoing. From this i get stuck in a sort of catch-22. I can say anything to anyone in any situation, but when it comes to my feelings and "love"
i'm hopeless.

i feel like i'm in some messed up movie, but the chances that my ending will be happy is slim to none.
...i have just 3 hours.

"breathe, breathe, keep breathing"


i'm still so highschool, but do you ever grow out of that?

i wish that people with closed minds could keep their mouths shut

all this suppressed hate that is shining through all these people i used to call friends is making me feel sick beyond belief.
...but those people who are shouting all these closed minded stupid things are in the minority, right?

and my GOD the amount of stupid people in this country:
bashing obama for not doing anything for the economy "two days into his presidency" does anybody realize that bush is STILL the president, that obama isn't inaugurated until january... yea.
oh. and if you fear "socialism" (which you so wrongly think Obama is going to implement) so much, maybe europe isn't the place for you, nor canada. how about uzbekistan?

oh, and p.s. this country was already going to shit, no thanks to the conservative idiots roaming around washington.
when things don't work out for you one way, what do you do? change the way you do things, try something new.. in hopes this change will reap better results.

STOP BITCHING, holy shit i'm losing my mind.