I can't wrap my tongue around it

In a whirlwind week I've gone from expectedly single to fooling around with someone to having a boyfriend. boy.....friend...the thought of it is all too much. I'm just letting things flow right now, how can I tell him that I have doubts? He seems so sure of it all, so sure that I am some amazing creature. I know I'm not. I'm scared.....in the end that's the truth.

A Founding Myth

Are there words to describe what I've been going through? Depression is sinking into me, tarnishing the smile I try to flash. I am continually amazed that people cannot see past the facade I have erected. Does anyone even care to try and see what's really going on in my eyes? Have I become so skilled at hiding everything that no one knows what I look like when I express honest emotions? I shudder to think that my sour mood may affect those who I spend the most time with. Is my pain infectious? The world seems to be falling apart around me, and I am forced to grasp the shards of what's left. My father has abandoned my brother. How can I choose between the two men who raised me...the two men who abandoned me? I still ache from the memory of the day my brother ran away. Lying on the floor, wraped in the only thing he left behind, crying for the only person who hadn't left me yet. He was all I had left, and now there is nothing, there is no one. "Smile, Holly, smile. You are the rock. Hold it all together." When the floor gives out, there won't be anything to catch me. I've almost convinced myself that I don't need anyone. "I am a natural wanderer, a loner, someone who prefers the solice of solitude." Music has become the only thing that can hold me. I find that I flinch at human contact. I don't even like people to sit or stand near me. Do others live like this? I can't fathom this being normal. Do others cry in the shower? Tears cleansed by the falling water, the sobbing covered by the sound of the fan sucking up the steam and hope. It's almost two years to the day that I ran away. December is my month of pain. Like the pain of the anniversary of a death, I feel the aching in my core. Have I not gone forward? Have I not grown? Will there be a December where I won't crave the dark? Nothing satisfys me. What can fill the gaping hole that a life of cruelty has created? Will fate ever stop spitting on me? I've become a fatalist, uncomforted by the things that once made me smile. There's an influx of tears. Why doesn't anyone see the streaks on my face?! Why doesn't anyone notice?! Why am I comforted that they don't? I go "home" soon. I will find enjoyment in the familiarity of my home and family. I will once again become the glue that holds the shards together, the rock filled with space. And then January will come.

Spring?

A bit of warm weather has spread across NYC. Today it seemed like the first day of spring after a long winter. Depression has been aching on the edges of my subconscious, and I needed this boost to keep me going until I can go home. I love this city, but it begs for unhappiness. I feel unsatisfied as of late, and cannot figure out what it is that haunts me. I suppose it is general lonliness, made all thhe more obvious by my friend's complaints of being single. Things like this shouldn't be brought to my attention. I suppose another factor is my restlessness. I have been tied to this city since mid-August, and if I am not allowed to roam I feel anxious. I almost feel as if the city is trying to strangle me at times, to take my will and destroy it. So, this change in the weather has brought me muc happiness, as well as constantly listening to The Cure. Today is Friday, so let's hope for love.

More writing...

I've been doing a lot of writing lately. I can't figure out if it's because I'm bored in my Islam and Judaism class, or if I'm a teeny bit creative. I don't think these lyrics are really any good, but I figure if I keep writing then something notable will jump out.

Religion's Not a Choice
I can't lay down my burdens,
on some unknown diety.
In the end, they're all I have left.
Your ways of persuasion
leave much to be desired.
How can I convert,
when your religion leaves me choking?
(choke, choke, choke)
Is this your goal?
In my asphyxiation, I lose my will to your god?
I bite the hand that beats me.

I'm "sorry" again.
That word's lost all meaning.
Baptise me in my sins.
May the holy ghost enter
where my happiness once resided,
but I won't go to heaven
because your god doesn't love me.

"Oh, it's not an idol",
the cross on your wall.
And it's not abuse,
when you do it for God.
Try sparing the rod
and sparing my hope.
If you pray hard enough
I may become pope.



...or I may take the jump.

How can god still love a theif,
a rapist, and a murderer,
but not a man who loves a man,
or this girl with the gun to her head?


*Dedicated to my papa, a pastor.

My first post

Here's a song I wrote about my friend who has cancer....I hate putting myself out like this, but since this site is a secret, I guess it's fine.

Octopus

Simple lives
and simple dreams.
Photographs
of better things.
Drift along,
the seven seas.
Not knowing
the blowing
is more
than a breeze.

[Chorus]
Will the water still hold you
when your hair is gone?
Will anyone be there
when the treatment is long?
Will you still be sick
when they hear this song?
Will you give up the fight
if the battle goes on?

The beeping
the smell
the hospital gown.
The oppressive atmosphere
that gets you down.
You breathe in air,
and yet you drown.
It hurts to go on
without my octopus around.

[Chorus]
Will the water still hold you
when your hair is gone?
Will anyone be there
when the treatment is long?
Will you still be sick
when they hear this song?
Will you give up the fight
if the battle goes on?

[Refrain]
The ocean hasn't been the same,
each of us holding a part of the blame.


That's all. Octopus is her nickname.....if that part is confusing.