The Past Is A Grotesque Animal

The air conditioning is on and the chill of its breath makes my skin prickle. You love the cold.

>But you know no matter where we are, we're always touching by underground wires

Into The Ocean

> How did you know I was home?
> The halls were quiet and you were the only sound.

Sleeping Lessons

I always thought I despised routine. Why do you think I'm an artist? I like instability and mind games. Apparently. But lately routine has brought comfort to the heart.

It's like last year; wake up, go for lunch together, back to the apartment for tea (possibly cheese and crackers), listen to music and chat about life (although this has become less "art talk" or "i love you's" or "the future holds" and more basic small discussion), more tea and later dinner accompanied by a film or two, desert and possibly a late night expedition to the grocery store/tim horton's/standing out in the cold.

He acts like a child once more, stomping in the slush so that it flies in my face. Teasing me. Sometimes making comments that make my mind question the motive, but hope is lost when it comes to us.

Yet it all builds and I feel overwhelmed sometimes. And I find my way back home too early, just wanting to curl up and sleep. Finding latent tears as I have passed the point of hysterical sobbing.

I prefer to stare at my world through a window sheated with ice, like it was last night. Pulling the boy outside to watch the wind blow it away onto the street, darting around puddles only finding one so willing to fill my shoes. Flickering lighters and coats shielding the cold from my cheeks. Paper thin documents of frozen rain fall to the ground in a spectacular installment of the night-storm. The wind making my eyes blush. Catering to the cautious flirting that took place in my head.

Wake Up Exhausted

I have tried to write an entry three times today. This is the one.

The punch wound on my face is sore and is a clever juxtaposition of this whole situation. But, I haven't talked to "the boy" in three days and it has been good for my health.

Last night Cass dragged me out to a house party where the "other boy" happened to be as well. I didn't think it would be as awkward... as well.... it was. I planned to be friendly and nice, instead I avoided looking and speaking to him. He watched me the entire night. What does that mean?

I ended up drinking an entire bottle of wine and came close to passing out in the cab that Cass forced me to take home. But it was a good night and took my mind off of most things.

And it's terrible how I can go from listening to the newest most pretentious music to the latest catchy hit. Maneater? There goes my street cred. But I don't even care.

I'm ready for a fresh start. A new hit, life, boy, experience. A new outlook.

Brighter....?

I really love this time of day. Around four o'clock in the afternoon when the sun is making the light in my apartment diffused and soft and I can pretend like it's warm outside. But thoughts of boiling weather scare me these days as I lost so much when I was able to go outside without a coat. The summer is a scary thing. Too many people 'find themselves' and I tend to get lost in the shuffle. Or they find someone else and fool around for an extended period of time and don't bother to tell you until you find out through a bitter friend six months later. SUCH IS LIFE.

But hey, I'm not feeling so cynical right now?

Maybe a little alone. But I think my optimism right now stems from a decent amount of caffeine, sleep, and a new outlook. I've decided to be healthier... Anti-oxidents (POM tea), green tea, mangoes, nectarines, flax seed bread. I think it's the weather.

Matt came to visit on Wednesday and Thursday. A little piece of home and knowing someone would go beat the hell out of the boy if I so much as asked him. I think I needed to recognize that some things that go away might always be there.

Things have reached an all time height of ridiculous. It's sad to admit that ANY kind of drama I have ever faced in high school.... well, life in general.... put together will never reach this point. Is it sad that there is some sort of pride in sporting a fat lip? Even though it hurts enough to make me scrunch my face and hate the war wound that is giving me one more reason to throw my hands in the air and stomp off.

This might be continued later.... For now I'm on a mission to find 6 gauge earrings that won't tear my lobes apart.

Re: Tired

It's always over before it really begins.

Shut Up I Am Dreaming of Places Where Lovers Have Wings

It's over. And I made it so.

Why am I stuck on the past where there is someone so wonderful right in front of me. You were my comfort. You were comfortable.

You act like this doesn't hurt you, and I doubt that it is. We'll never talk about it. But I hope that one morning you wake up to find your heart ripping a little at the seams. You will never understand what you put me through.

So hello heart. I remember you now.
Hello third year. You have a chance to become something memorable.
Hello fear.
Hello happiness.
Hello new person in my life.
Hello self.

Nothing will ever replace what was there - I'll always feel the same.
I still love you but it's time to go.