Filed under: disjointed
ever had the feeling where a day goes on perfectly great and mundane as usual but a million thoughts are coursing through your head at the speed of light and you see flashing thoughts and ideas and you feel paranoid like someone’s looking at you through a pinhole camera hidden somewhere in the corners of the ceiling and your eyes are bursting with uncried tears but you can’t cry and you’re afraid to cry because you don’t have a reason to cry and all you can see is a random childhood memory you haven’t thought about in a million years and you don’t know what the fuck is going on fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck this.
Filed under: disjointed
identity.
we spend our entire life chasing satisfaction.
who ARE you? WHAT are you?
significance.
my train of thought is somewhat disjointed, and has been for the past few months. i keep pushing them aside and they manifest themselves in my subconscious. i keep telling myself not to think, and that everything will be fine, yet this nagging worry keeps trying to break the glass bubble i made.
i keep chasing nothingness. what IS nothingness? could it be something or nothing. could it be a state of mind. could it be something that is nothing. could it be nothing at all.
if so, what the fuck IS nothing.
if you have ever borrowed a book of mine(which i have read), you will notice the presence of too many dog-ears on the book, unless i really motherfucking love that book enough not to mark it.
anyway, here’s a quote from a James Frey book i just finished reading.
I believe that pain and suffering are different things. Pain is the feeling. Suffering is the effect that pain inflicts. If one can endure pain, one can live without suffering. If one can learn to withstand pain, one can withstand anything. If one can learn to control pain, one can learn to control oneself. I have lived a life without control. I have spent twenty-three years destroying myself and everything and everyone around me and I don’t want to live that way anymore. I take the pain so I will never suffer. I take the pain to experience control. I sit and I burn and I take it.
if it hits you like it hits me, hard, then you truly understand me, in some way, or another.
i was messing around the net and i saw a group on facebook in remembrance of my lit teacher in JC.
something struck me hard and i couldn’t help but shed a tear.
gone so young, miss G. i’ll always remember you, coming to school with your walking stick and you coming to class to teach us, rain or shine, cancer or not. you made class lively with all the poems and your wise words. i’ll always remember you accepted homework that was due two months ago and i remember your kind words about the poem i wrote on the back of my (failed)exam paper.
God bless you, miss G. we’ll miss you. you were the bravest, strongest fighter there ever was.
beating lights beating my eyes my skin my body pumping loud music into every pore pumping my blood pumping me into oblivion i’m in a box i can’t get out i want to be miss sunshine i want to screech in joy i want wear yellow and orange and dance but this is winter and every dark inside of every bloody person surfaces.
wait.
stop.
listen.
can you hear me. you read this bloody entry on your computer screen from miles away can you feel my eyes droning into this text you’re reading right now. can you feel the trance beating through my fingers as i type to the rhythm of the beat.
no, you bastards. can you smell the smoke in my mouth. can you smell my peach body butter. can you can you can you. bitch.
ok. time out from my psycho-moment.
have a good day, fuckshit!
all our lives we spend it chasing something being somebody trying to be the exact copy of someone else we live in a simulacrum so real we don’t know it’s a simulacrum. just like choosing red or blue pills we choose to live in that simulacrum or open our eyes and see the truth but to be honest who would take the hard way touch your heart touch your face touch your breasts grope them touch your groin caress it touch your scars reality is a hard choice so go back to that rat race and chase that job chase that partner chase those kids around the tree screw your partner three times a week in your mediocre sad life and die and have a funeral with beautiful eulogies and a bank account to be distributed by the cold unmoving lawyer. the simulacra we live is an envelope of simulacrum and we don’t know and even if we do we choose to ignore the fact. we chose the *fill-in-the-color* pill and we’re all here. now who will save you and me from each other. if i cannot have you, i will kill you.
over and over.
let your head go, qi. like you honestly care.
yes i do.
no you don’t.
okay maybe she doesn’t. but so what?
yeah so what?
Filed under: disjointed
i fear many things but i fear losing you the most. how do i tell you i miss you without seeing your verbal backlash at me.
sigh. a girl can only sigh.
p.s. twitter is so ADDICTIVE. follow me!
i miss you so much but i can’t bring myself to say it. i love you but i can only silently let it resound inside because the noise of our fights get to me.
neither of us are happy, well-rounded people but i try my best. gone are my wild days last year where i used to drown my sorrows about the relationship on every saturday night and stumble back “home” dead drunk and pretend i was happily in love.
i’m just trying to do my job here, but you’re not helping at all.
you go crazy over every guy here in perth. i really am up to my neck in work.
all the other men don’t matter. when will you realize you are special.
special. collarbones, those hands, you biting my lips, you chewing my lips, your infernally violent kisses when you send me home, how you smile after an orgasm, how those dimples show through after you pout…………….
i really wish you knew.
i don’t care about your new apartment at clark quay. i don’t care if you have hair now. i don’t care if you’ve lost weight. i don’t care about anything else.
all i want is for you to understand, my love, that i love you.
at last the house looks like a house, a home-cooked meal looks and tastes like a home-cooked meal, and a bedroom really looks like a bedroom.
clean red bedsheets, clothes strewn all over, makeup on the mantelshelf; anyone?
such a big bed, empty without you.
goodnight.
Filed under: disjointed
today i was wikipedia-ing my beloved natalie portman and it astounded me again for the nth time how beautiful and intelligent she is. and i am reminded of my dream to adopt a palestine AND an israeli orphan and show people how everyone can co-exist happily, jew or muslim or chink, whichever, man. i am trying to download closer which is of course one of my favorite movies but the are no seeders how annoying how can anyone not seed such a wonderful movie irony irony irony irony irony is every word bleeding from its spine. seed seed seed damnit! okay i am off to read the 19th wife and off to miss my beloved boyfriend. and to ponder how shall i ask money from daddy………….
