Writing

I am told to write
by my friends and professors
by all the institutions I find myself bound to
but I write for the child in me still playing barbies.

Sorry if you take part in my stories. Aliases will ensue.
I'm not asking for a how or a why, but a simple what.
I understand some detachment but
not speaking without talking.
What happened to conversations?
Maybe they are just toxic.

Perhaps I'll run away to Canada to work as a late night cook in some town.
That would make me happy for a week or two.
Travel is strange; I always take too much baggage.

I may look back and laugh, but I doubt my parody of life is that comical.
Too much time alone with only a digital friendship is probably worse than cabin fever.

You told me to write for others, but perhaps this blog is free therapy.
I suppose that makes you my lab rats?

I was never good at science, pardon theoretical physics.

I want to write to make sense
to include others in a private life, getting out of a modern mindset
to fill a void made in humanity
understanding my prayers to symbols


Perhaps next time we will dance, but for now I have stare at the future in the splinters of my bed.

And here we go...

Let's detach for a moment.
I wish it was that easy.
Perhaps, I come off as too personal. And maybe we don't really want to know one another.
Another modernist flaw.

I spend my nights staring at the bed above me, trying to find the future in the grains. My evenings are spent trying to force thoughts through motions.
How about you?
Am I being too personal?

Maybe we'll wait another day to say words as dissociated as possible.
Maybe you'll see through the words and truly understand the book.

Detach.

It is the beginning of the last chapter of this book. This series feels like it can fill a book-shelve.
I dislike books that make you cry, but goodbyes are always hard.
It may even be a farewell.

And I sing
I just want to swim.

She Wants Revenge

"She Will Always Be A Broken Girl" by She Wants Revenge


She buys a new dress for the party,
She always looks good in red.
Turns around in front of the mirror
And disappears inside of her head.
She wonders if he'll even remember,
She asked him in a casual way.
Just in case he didn't want to go with her,
In that event she knew just what she would say.

She thought of maybe asking a girlfriend,
Even though she only has one or two.
She's always done much better with boys anyway,
So who needs girlfriends?
Pacing nervous across the floor of her bedroom,
Gripping tight the phone in her hand.
Fighting back the rush of emotions,
And dreaming of just having a man..

It's a long walk,
And the music is loud.
She sees an old friend,
And she walks through the crowd.
Puts on her best smile,
But underneath it she's a broken girl.

But it's a long walk,
And the music is loud.
She sees an old friend,
As she walks through the crowd.
Puts on her best smile,
But she will always be a broken girl.

She struggles with an awful decision,
Stay at home or walk in alone.
Her mother does her best to console her,
Her father doesn't know what to say.

Puts on her makeup,
Puts on the new dress.
Holds her head high then gets in the car.
Tells herself that no one will notice,
Assuming she can make it that far.

On the way she imagines reactions.
Cupped hands whispering into ears.
Secretly hoping that he'll be there watching,
And she's also hoping he won't.

Walking tentative alone up the driveway,
Sees some people smoking off to the side.
She stops and waits until they go back in,
Crosses her fingers and follows behind.

It's a long walk,
And the music is loud.
She sees an old friend,
And she walks through the crowd.
Puts on her best smile,
But underneath it she's a broken girl.

It's a long walk,
And the music is loud.
She sees an old friend,
As she walks through he crowd.
Puts on her best smile,
But she will always be a broken girl.

He'll never get you, he will never understand.
He'll never get you, you can find a better man.
He'll never get you, he will never understand.
He'll never get you, you can find a better man.
He'll never get you, he will never understand.
He'll never get you, you can find a better man.
He'll never get you, he will never understand.
He'll never get you, you can find a better man.

He'll never get you, he will never understand.
He'll never get you, you can find a better man.
He'll never get you, he will never understand.
He'll never get you, you can find a better man.

He'll never get you, he will never understand.
He'll never get you, you can find a better man.
He'll never get you, he will never understand.
He'll never get you, you can find a better man.
He'll never get you, he will never understand.
He'll never get you, you can find a better man.

This might be the time to break down.
This might be the time to break down.
This might be the time to break down.
This might be the time to break down.
This might be the time to break down.

Hush child, don't make a sound.























Thank you She Wants Revenge. I wonder how long 'always' is, and if I will always be a broken girl.
These thoughts have been plaguing me recently. I thought it was just because of my sleeping situation, but I ran and still cannot sleep.
Damn.

Happy New Year.
(For more music and word choices, look up Motion City Soundtrack's "Together We'll Ring In The New Year")