Outside the wind howls like the sad cry of a lonely owl. The dark sky illuminates every few minutes with a flash of what I can only imagine is a giant dragon fight that is going on above my head. The fantasy of life swirls around me with the dust and leaves. Leaves that have fallen in a disarray of depression that haunts them like it does me. I look up to the sky and see all of this beauty going on and it makes me smile. However, this isn't a smile of happiness...
It's funny how I keep thinking about you, knowing damn well and good that you aren't thinking about me. After our 'adventure', or whatever you want to call what we did, I sat in my room every damn day waiting for my phone to buzz. Those special words that said “NEW TEXT MESSAGE FROM _______.” But no. Nothing came, and day after day my friends would say, 'No, wait for him to text you.' So I did, but did you text? No. Did you call? No. Did you even facebook my ass? No. I just didn't understand why?!
Finally I make the move, you never seem to want to talk. I bring out my feelings, you take offense. Why? What did I do? I only heard the lyrics to I'm Still Breathing by Katy Perry in my head.
“Maybe I was too pale,
Maybe I was too fat,
Maybe you had better, better luck in the sack.”
So finally after a good two weeks, we broke things off. You didn't want to get committed, and I saw what I was to you. I was a bag of goods, someone to get you off. I was a back up plan after your last 'relationship' was not going the way you wanted.
Thanks for using me asshole!
Maybe one night stands should stay one night stands?
Now I sit here, looking up at this mess up in the sky and only seeing beauty because it reminds me of my soul. The fight that is inside of me, conflicting wars of wanting to remember you but trying to push you away at the same time.
What really hurts the most, I think, is the fact that you could move on with your life so easily. While I put on this fake smile and parade around like I never met you in my life. I delete you from my contacts, I 'de-friend' you on facebook. But everyday I'm faced with remembering the things we did and loving every moment of it, wishing I didn't! It was so easy for you to get rid of me, maybe you can spill your secrets so that I can get rid of you!
The sky illuminates the fear in my eyes while I watch it. A war of dragons is what I want to think, but I know that it's all inside.
Thanks for ruining my life.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
People like this...
So I got an email the other day about my blog post (click here to read it) and I started crying when I read it! This person's strength and amazingness is just pure bliss to me. People like this make me know life is worth living. Thank you!
~Message I recieved~
Ok. So...I just read your July 16th blog (late I know and I'm sorry) but I wanted to thank you. I mean throughly THANK YOU for putting that up there. I was that kid. I was the kid who got picked on I got shoved into walls and I got told I would go nowhere in life. My freshman and sopomore year was the years that I hated the most. And because of my hatred for my class and school in general I started to do something similar to cutting but not really. What I did was erased my skin. Yea..icky to the core. I took a pencil eraser and created friction between my skin and the eraser and my skin peeled off. Hurt but healed at the same time. And I used to write my feelings down until my folks found the notebook and punished me. I ended up contemplating suicide much like you and I wanted to thank you for posting that blog. Because of that blog it made me realize that its not just me who contemplated suicide. Its not just the tv stars making a big statement for big bucks. It happens to all of us. and because of your post I have begun to realize that I am not alone and that however few these friends may be they do exsist and they much like you would do anything for anyone. Thank you for helping me and making me realise that you are a better man than you can ever be given credit for. I hope that you eventually get credit because you deserve it. Thank you again and again and again...
~Message I recieved~
Ok. So...I just read your July 16th blog (late I know and I'm sorry) but I wanted to thank you. I mean throughly THANK YOU for putting that up there. I was that kid. I was the kid who got picked on I got shoved into walls and I got told I would go nowhere in life. My freshman and sopomore year was the years that I hated the most. And because of my hatred for my class and school in general I started to do something similar to cutting but not really. What I did was erased my skin. Yea..icky to the core. I took a pencil eraser and created friction between my skin and the eraser and my skin peeled off. Hurt but healed at the same time. And I used to write my feelings down until my folks found the notebook and punished me. I ended up contemplating suicide much like you and I wanted to thank you for posting that blog. Because of that blog it made me realize that its not just me who contemplated suicide. Its not just the tv stars making a big statement for big bucks. It happens to all of us. and because of your post I have begun to realize that I am not alone and that however few these friends may be they do exsist and they much like you would do anything for anyone. Thank you for helping me and making me realise that you are a better man than you can ever be given credit for. I hope that you eventually get credit because you deserve it. Thank you again and again and again...
Saturday, July 23, 2011
July 21, 2011: Dear Depression, You suck.
The sick feeling that my old friend depression is near, and has been lingering above my head for a couple days. That presence that overwhelms you from what you were planning on doing the day before, as you wake up, drained of any life what so ever. You are weak and powerless. You can barely open your eyes or get up out of bed to take care of the dog that is yelling in your ear. He cries for attention. Food.
He makes everything become a blur. You can barely hear the dog, you can barely feel the touch of your sheets rubbing between your stubbly legs; your body is insensible from the Novocaine that depression as secretly tapped in you. He is hooked up to you like an IV, dripping small amounts of what feels like death into your veins. No matter the obstacles, you try and try to get up.
It's a personal victory when you do get out of bed though; however, his presence is still right next to you, numbing your emotions. You have to piss and when you are done, you have no energy to get up off the toilet, and you think to yourself, 'I should take a shower today.' As you think about it, he is right by your ear, whispering ever so lightly, 'Eh, I could just do it tomorrow, today will be a lazy day... just like yesterday... and the day before...' You seem to agree with the small voice in your mind.
Everywhere you go your own house it is like he oozes down the walls, covering them in a thick layer of sorrow. You look around at what you could do to preoccupy yourself, get away from depression just for a minute. You think about calling your friends and hanging out, he whispers again, 'Hm... Nah, They'll probably just talk about ______ all day, it'll be boring. What would we do in Polson? Go to the lake? Yeah right,boring?' Yet you want to be around someone, just to know you are not alone.
You never realize how alone you are until you are in a room full of people. Then it gets depressing. No matter how hard you want to get rid of depression, he never fully leaves. He just stays in the shadows, waiting for the right point in your life to lunge like a pernicious snake. Poisoning you slowly until you are too weak to suck out the poison. That's when your only hope lays with a friend to help you out of the paralyzed state he has left you in. Even then, I don't know if that will be enough...
He makes everything become a blur. You can barely hear the dog, you can barely feel the touch of your sheets rubbing between your stubbly legs; your body is insensible from the Novocaine that depression as secretly tapped in you. He is hooked up to you like an IV, dripping small amounts of what feels like death into your veins. No matter the obstacles, you try and try to get up.
It's a personal victory when you do get out of bed though; however, his presence is still right next to you, numbing your emotions. You have to piss and when you are done, you have no energy to get up off the toilet, and you think to yourself, 'I should take a shower today.' As you think about it, he is right by your ear, whispering ever so lightly, 'Eh, I could just do it tomorrow, today will be a lazy day... just like yesterday... and the day before...' You seem to agree with the small voice in your mind.
Everywhere you go your own house it is like he oozes down the walls, covering them in a thick layer of sorrow. You look around at what you could do to preoccupy yourself, get away from depression just for a minute. You think about calling your friends and hanging out, he whispers again, 'Hm... Nah, They'll probably just talk about ______ all day, it'll be boring. What would we do in Polson? Go to the lake? Yeah right,boring?' Yet you want to be around someone, just to know you are not alone.
You never realize how alone you are until you are in a room full of people. Then it gets depressing. No matter how hard you want to get rid of depression, he never fully leaves. He just stays in the shadows, waiting for the right point in your life to lunge like a pernicious snake. Poisoning you slowly until you are too weak to suck out the poison. That's when your only hope lays with a friend to help you out of the paralyzed state he has left you in. Even then, I don't know if that will be enough...
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
July 16, 2011:My Funeral
It's officially July 16th, so I don't have to seem like a derp for writing two blogs in technically the same day...
Anyhoo... I was stalking tumblr, like I do. Going through pages and pages of pictures of half naked men, beautiful photography, ridiculous gifs of Lady Gaga, some type of porn it seems like, and very depressing posts about being ugly... and I stumbled upon this:
I want to get hurt. A car accident, anything. I want to get injured enough to wind up in a hospital, just to see if anyone would come to make sure I'm okay. And I'd pretend to be sleeping or dying so in case anyone actually did come, they would sit at the edge of my bed, crying, and tell me everything. I want to hear everything they've ever thought of me, how they really feel, if they're sorry for anything. I just want to know the truth. And I want to know who truly cares about me.
I always think about this. I always think that no one will show up because im not important enough.
That's it.
It really got me thinking, how many times have I ever imagined hurting myself to see if what this is saying would happen. People coming in, either in groups or one at a time, to see my mangled body and confess something, or even just to hear them cry. I don't know if that's too morbid, but it's how mine, and apparently other peoples, mind works!
Here is a story for you all, since I do enjoy telling them... even if they are very very hard to let out, like this one is going to be. But I want that is why I have this blog, for people to know what I've gone through so they don't have to feel alone, they can know of someone that felt the same, did the same, whatever. I want people to know I'm here for them and that they really aren't alone. Even if I'm a total stranger...
…
But before I go on, I want everyone to know this one thing, I am not looking for attention. I do not crave unlike certain family members of mine. I learned by growing up, to keep things to yourself... so I want you to know. I'm not looking for sympathy, I'm not looking for someone to ask if I'm okay, because obviously I am. Or at least I think I am. I'm not just saying this to get some sort of reaction. So remember that when you read this.
I'm about to open up something I've never told anyone in my entire life, and it may not seem like it because it's all typed out, but I'm having a very hard time typing this... tears are literally streaming down my face right now...
Here it goes...
…
My freshman year I was going through a very very hard time. I mean really my entire high school “career” sucked major balls, but some years were harder than others, and I think freshman year was specifically tough. I came out freshman year and that's when the bullying and teasing; taunting and harassment, really came out the most.
All I remember most of my freshman year was... “I want to die.” That and about how happy I was that I had Mrs. Moore as a teacher. She cared about me and accepted me with open arms about who I was. Anyways... I remember one particular day, and I will never ever forget it, that I was in Mr. Quinn's class for freshman science (Earth Science for those of you who go to Polson.) I never paid attention in his class because he would basically give us all the answers anyways during tests and worksheets. I remember earlier that day kids bumped into me and said, “Faggot,” “Move queer,” “Ferry Jerry.”
Of course I ignored them and tried to show them and the kids who were watching that I was strong, better than them by not giving in to crying. But on the inside I was crying... On the inside I was killing myself however many different ways so I could be in “Heaven,” or my view of “Heaven,” knowing I'd be happier there.
When I was in Quinn's class I stayed there in my seat, not wanting to move at all. I stared at my notebook page, blank like my expression. I took out a red pen and started scribbling. I still have the piece of paper today actually. In my old Earth Science notebook I used more for doodles than I did for actual notes. I wrote, “I JUST WANT TO DIE.” And I kept writing it, etching it hard into my notebook. I then stopped and thought about going home and taking a knife to my wrists. I was wondering where I would do it, I figured, no matter how cliché, I would do it in the bathroom so it'd be less of a clean up for mom. Then I got thinking...
….
How could I leave my mom? She has done everything and was so strong for me throughout my entire life. I imagined her expression as she walked into the house to see my pale body floating in my blood. I wanted to start crying. I felt the tears start but I held them back. I couldn't just start crying for no reason in the middle of Mr. Quinn giving a “lecture.” People already thought I was too much of a fag, I couldn't give them reason to start more stuff about me.
I then thought about what it would be like if I swallowed pills instead. Her reaction was still the same...
It's crazy how you can do that. You know, live with someone long enough, or know them long enough, to know their exact reaction to any type of scenario. Well I've become pro at it with my mothers...
I then thought, what about my funeral? Who would show up? Evy no doubt, and Cj too probably. Would Kathy? How about Jennifer and Billy? And then I pictured their expressions, Kathy's was the worse because at the time we were best friends. I wondered who else would even show up to my funeral? Would my family be ashamed because I was gay and killed myself? Isn't that like a double whammy for going to hell?
I wanted to burst into tears about that time. Thankfully the bell rung. A kid stopped me before we left class. I'm not going to name a name, but he really helped me that day. He stopped me and said, “Jerry, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for anything I've ever said to you or about you. I'm... sorry.”
He apparently saw what I was writing all over my notebook when I was spacing off about everything...
I went to the bathroom, locked myself into a stall and cried. I was late for my next class, which thankfully was math with Mrs. Moore. She didn't mind. I think she could tell I was crying.
…
Okay, now that that's over... and taking me about almost an hour to write it... I want to tell you all that it's okay to think, “I wonder if I hurt myself, who would show up?” I want you all to know I would show up and probably be crying my eyes out, but I just hope no one would want to really find out by seriously harming themselves.
I think sometimes we all need a little reassurance about who would come to our bed in a hospital, or to a funeral and what they would be like.
I love you all. Remember that always.
Anyhoo... I was stalking tumblr, like I do. Going through pages and pages of pictures of half naked men, beautiful photography, ridiculous gifs of Lady Gaga, some type of porn it seems like, and very depressing posts about being ugly... and I stumbled upon this:
I want to get hurt. A car accident, anything. I want to get injured enough to wind up in a hospital, just to see if anyone would come to make sure I'm okay. And I'd pretend to be sleeping or dying so in case anyone actually did come, they would sit at the edge of my bed, crying, and tell me everything. I want to hear everything they've ever thought of me, how they really feel, if they're sorry for anything. I just want to know the truth. And I want to know who truly cares about me.
I always think about this. I always think that no one will show up because im not important enough.
That's it.
It really got me thinking, how many times have I ever imagined hurting myself to see if what this is saying would happen. People coming in, either in groups or one at a time, to see my mangled body and confess something, or even just to hear them cry. I don't know if that's too morbid, but it's how mine, and apparently other peoples, mind works!
Here is a story for you all, since I do enjoy telling them... even if they are very very hard to let out, like this one is going to be. But I want that is why I have this blog, for people to know what I've gone through so they don't have to feel alone, they can know of someone that felt the same, did the same, whatever. I want people to know I'm here for them and that they really aren't alone. Even if I'm a total stranger...
…
But before I go on, I want everyone to know this one thing, I am not looking for attention. I do not crave unlike certain family members of mine. I learned by growing up, to keep things to yourself... so I want you to know. I'm not looking for sympathy, I'm not looking for someone to ask if I'm okay, because obviously I am. Or at least I think I am. I'm not just saying this to get some sort of reaction. So remember that when you read this.
I'm about to open up something I've never told anyone in my entire life, and it may not seem like it because it's all typed out, but I'm having a very hard time typing this... tears are literally streaming down my face right now...
Here it goes...
…
My freshman year I was going through a very very hard time. I mean really my entire high school “career” sucked major balls, but some years were harder than others, and I think freshman year was specifically tough. I came out freshman year and that's when the bullying and teasing; taunting and harassment, really came out the most.
All I remember most of my freshman year was... “I want to die.” That and about how happy I was that I had Mrs. Moore as a teacher. She cared about me and accepted me with open arms about who I was. Anyways... I remember one particular day, and I will never ever forget it, that I was in Mr. Quinn's class for freshman science (Earth Science for those of you who go to Polson.) I never paid attention in his class because he would basically give us all the answers anyways during tests and worksheets. I remember earlier that day kids bumped into me and said, “Faggot,” “Move queer,” “Ferry Jerry.”
Of course I ignored them and tried to show them and the kids who were watching that I was strong, better than them by not giving in to crying. But on the inside I was crying... On the inside I was killing myself however many different ways so I could be in “Heaven,” or my view of “Heaven,” knowing I'd be happier there.
When I was in Quinn's class I stayed there in my seat, not wanting to move at all. I stared at my notebook page, blank like my expression. I took out a red pen and started scribbling. I still have the piece of paper today actually. In my old Earth Science notebook I used more for doodles than I did for actual notes. I wrote, “I JUST WANT TO DIE.” And I kept writing it, etching it hard into my notebook. I then stopped and thought about going home and taking a knife to my wrists. I was wondering where I would do it, I figured, no matter how cliché, I would do it in the bathroom so it'd be less of a clean up for mom. Then I got thinking...
….
How could I leave my mom? She has done everything and was so strong for me throughout my entire life. I imagined her expression as she walked into the house to see my pale body floating in my blood. I wanted to start crying. I felt the tears start but I held them back. I couldn't just start crying for no reason in the middle of Mr. Quinn giving a “lecture.” People already thought I was too much of a fag, I couldn't give them reason to start more stuff about me.
I then thought about what it would be like if I swallowed pills instead. Her reaction was still the same...
It's crazy how you can do that. You know, live with someone long enough, or know them long enough, to know their exact reaction to any type of scenario. Well I've become pro at it with my mothers...
I then thought, what about my funeral? Who would show up? Evy no doubt, and Cj too probably. Would Kathy? How about Jennifer and Billy? And then I pictured their expressions, Kathy's was the worse because at the time we were best friends. I wondered who else would even show up to my funeral? Would my family be ashamed because I was gay and killed myself? Isn't that like a double whammy for going to hell?
I wanted to burst into tears about that time. Thankfully the bell rung. A kid stopped me before we left class. I'm not going to name a name, but he really helped me that day. He stopped me and said, “Jerry, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for anything I've ever said to you or about you. I'm... sorry.”
He apparently saw what I was writing all over my notebook when I was spacing off about everything...
I went to the bathroom, locked myself into a stall and cried. I was late for my next class, which thankfully was math with Mrs. Moore. She didn't mind. I think she could tell I was crying.
…
Okay, now that that's over... and taking me about almost an hour to write it... I want to tell you all that it's okay to think, “I wonder if I hurt myself, who would show up?” I want you all to know I would show up and probably be crying my eyes out, but I just hope no one would want to really find out by seriously harming themselves.
I think sometimes we all need a little reassurance about who would come to our bed in a hospital, or to a funeral and what they would be like.
I love you all. Remember that always.
Monday, July 18, 2011
Summer 2011 Playlist Part Three (The Travel Playlist)
1. Don't Stop Believing- Journey
2. Voulez-Vous- ABBA
3. House of the Rising Sun- Bob Dylan
4. Bulletproof- La Roux
5. Dog Days are Over- Florence and the Machine
6. Bad Moon Rising- Creedence Clearwater Revival
7. Proud Mary- Tina Turner
8. Bad Things- Jace Everett
9. If I could Turn Back Time- Cher
10. Bohemian Rhapsody- Emilie Autumn
11. Kick-Ass- Mika
12. On the Road Again- Willie Nelson
Saturday, July 16, 2011
July 15, 2011: Dear Knight in Shining Armor, Where are thee?
I sit outside, watching the few cars that go down my street pass by. I only hope that one of them might be a strapping young lad that has by chance stumbled upon my house, and wants to take me to some magical place. However I know that, that is not the case. No matter how much I want it to be. I also know if I did go with this strapping young lad I just met, that things would turn rocky, and our relationship would soon become as confusing as a Sodku puzzle. (Yes I do find them confusing, Math sucks.)
That's the thing about relationships... or the things that lead up to relationships. They are confusing as fuck! Excuse my language, but they are. You can meet a guy that is, well in your mind perfect. However, trying to actually get them to like you is a wild goose chase that will never be won. It isn't until you do something with them, like hangout, makeout, do whatever, that you see the real colors come out.
My friend for example. She is with this guy, and I know she really likes him and I hope that he really likes her (although from what she tells me, he does.) But right when they did stuff, BAM so many obsticales come to play into this weird thing that you don't know what to call. Is it a relationship? Is it just a foreplay friend thing? What?
Of course, being you, you would want to be in a relationship with this strapping young lad that you have come to like after you've hung out and other stuff... Yet, he is reluctant. He doesn't want to hurt an old “fuck buddy: or his best friend. Of course you understand, or atleast you say you do but you really want him to just say screw it and then do you right there.
What I don't get is why get, is why is liking someone so... sorry to say it again, but confusing? You can have a total connection, or at least you think you do. Then BAM nothing. He stops texting, calling, talking to you. It's like a form of punishment. You feel like you've done something wrong, but you aren't quite sure you did. You are too obviously afraid of talking to him about any of this, because you are afraid he already see's you as clingy. You just want to ignore the fact that you ever met him but yet you don't want to stop thinking about him. Or, more like you can't stop thinking about him.
It's all so confusing! Can't we all just be straightforward like Jenna Marbles? In her video “People I would Fuck,” she says it like it is. “I like you, you like me, let's get together...” Why can't the world just work that way sometimes? Some people would like to comment that, “Oh but then the world be less 'adventurous'.” You know, I'm okay with that! I just want to find a nice guy that can just like me for me and just kind of be honest and straightforward with me! It would make my life a lot more simple so that way I can have my full attention on my pressing matters in life, such as the fact that I'm trying to find a job, getting a drivers license, and finding money for college.
Now maybe I'm just tired and cranky from not eating today but I don't know if I'm fit for this finding love thing? I'm socially awkward, I don't like to drink excessvily and I've never done drugs (except for those that are prescribed to me). Everyone I seem to want to have a thing for is obviously out of my league. I'm not drop dead gorgeous, or beautiful. I'm always just cute. Yeah... I don't think I'm cut out for this whole thing we call love... Sure I'll love my friends, my family, celebrities, I mean sometimes even random people I meet off the street. But it's not the love that I've been looking for, for about 13 years of my life. (I say 13 because it wasn't until after 5 when I wanted to have someone like Simba did with Nala.)
But I guess my time is up, since men's primes are at the ages of 17- 24... It looks like I'm not getting any “cuter.”
That's the thing about relationships... or the things that lead up to relationships. They are confusing as fuck! Excuse my language, but they are. You can meet a guy that is, well in your mind perfect. However, trying to actually get them to like you is a wild goose chase that will never be won. It isn't until you do something with them, like hangout, makeout, do whatever, that you see the real colors come out.
My friend for example. She is with this guy, and I know she really likes him and I hope that he really likes her (although from what she tells me, he does.) But right when they did stuff, BAM so many obsticales come to play into this weird thing that you don't know what to call. Is it a relationship? Is it just a foreplay friend thing? What?
Of course, being you, you would want to be in a relationship with this strapping young lad that you have come to like after you've hung out and other stuff... Yet, he is reluctant. He doesn't want to hurt an old “fuck buddy: or his best friend. Of course you understand, or atleast you say you do but you really want him to just say screw it and then do you right there.
What I don't get is why get, is why is liking someone so... sorry to say it again, but confusing? You can have a total connection, or at least you think you do. Then BAM nothing. He stops texting, calling, talking to you. It's like a form of punishment. You feel like you've done something wrong, but you aren't quite sure you did. You are too obviously afraid of talking to him about any of this, because you are afraid he already see's you as clingy. You just want to ignore the fact that you ever met him but yet you don't want to stop thinking about him. Or, more like you can't stop thinking about him.
It's all so confusing! Can't we all just be straightforward like Jenna Marbles? In her video “People I would Fuck,” she says it like it is. “I like you, you like me, let's get together...” Why can't the world just work that way sometimes? Some people would like to comment that, “Oh but then the world be less 'adventurous'.” You know, I'm okay with that! I just want to find a nice guy that can just like me for me and just kind of be honest and straightforward with me! It would make my life a lot more simple so that way I can have my full attention on my pressing matters in life, such as the fact that I'm trying to find a job, getting a drivers license, and finding money for college.
Now maybe I'm just tired and cranky from not eating today but I don't know if I'm fit for this finding love thing? I'm socially awkward, I don't like to drink excessvily and I've never done drugs (except for those that are prescribed to me). Everyone I seem to want to have a thing for is obviously out of my league. I'm not drop dead gorgeous, or beautiful. I'm always just cute. Yeah... I don't think I'm cut out for this whole thing we call love... Sure I'll love my friends, my family, celebrities, I mean sometimes even random people I meet off the street. But it's not the love that I've been looking for, for about 13 years of my life. (I say 13 because it wasn't until after 5 when I wanted to have someone like Simba did with Nala.)
But I guess my time is up, since men's primes are at the ages of 17- 24... It looks like I'm not getting any “cuter.”
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
July 10,2011: Sweet Dreams are made of this
I've noticed something about Polson. Polson on a Sunday is like a ghost town in the middle of winter. You see only I would be seen walking around in a ghost town with a tank, shorts, and combat boots on in the middle of winter. Of course I'm walking to be less alone. Hoping that maybe some how I'll feel less lonely then I am? Maybe that this ghost town would, I don't know, transform into a loving person with an excited face, opening up its arms to me; making me feel that I might belong, but no.
I don't feel that.
And of course the only other person that would be out, is homeless Joe, with the Wolf Den sign glowing eerily above his head inviting in other lonely strangers.
I had a dream last night, and I don't know what to make out of it. I'm usually really good at these things. Figuring out dreams for my friends and it seems to make total fucking sense. Yet, whenever I try to figure out my dreams, I always have the hardest of times, because it all could mean so much that is going on in my life. It's weird really.
In this dream I had a really weird feeling. I don't know what it was, but it was as if something was trying to tell me that I needed to be alert, so I was at all times. I was getting prepared for whatever was going to happen, and I was ready at any moment for anything. Yet, nothing would happen.
It soon got to be night out and I couldn't sleep. I was trying to but I just couldn't. (I think it's because I was already asleep.) I felt tired and I felt like I needed to sleep but I just couldn't, no matter what I tried. It was then as if I needed to move, to get out of my house and just go somewhere, yet I didn't know where to go in the middle of the night in Polson, since Polson pretty much closes down at ten.
Yet I had this desire, this need that I needed to fullfill to go somewhere. So I found myself walking out of my front door like I did this sort of thing all the time and I was walking. My feet were bare, I remember that, and I could feel the rocks pinch at my feet as I walked over them. This whole time, I felt like something was going to happen, and it was going to happen soon. The feeling inside of me only got stronger with every step I took, I had to get away from something that was going to happen. I had to get safe.
I was suddenly in this new part of the town that I had never noticed before. It was as if someone built this overnight and it had been there for all the years I had lived in Polson. It was so strange and I wondered where I was, if I was still in Polson, but I knew I was. I had to be, and no matter how much I wanted to stop and look around I couldn't stop, I had to keep walking. Soon I was at the bottom of a giant hill that seemed to overlook everything and then I started climbing. It was a tough climb, but it was as if I gracefully floated up to the top. I stood atop that hill and looked down.
I was looking down upon the new part of Polson as well as Polson itself. Up from this giant hill I could see everything that was happening. Street lights illuminated the sillhouette of the city giving it a kind of greeny outline. Yet I didn't know why I was up on this hill, I just knew deep down inside of me I had to be there.
I soon found myself standing there completely buck-naked. Entirely exposed to all of Polson and the new part of Polson, and I didn't even remember taking off my clothes. To be honest, I don't even remember if I was even wearing clothes before I got up there. If I wasn't, it wasn't until just then that I noticed. I looked around, embarrassed, but I was alone up there on that giant hill over looking the old and new Polson; I got a sense of freedom and relief and felt totally comfortable after.
Then tremors shook the giant hill and at first I started to freak out, or at least in my head I did. I did know however, that no matter what I would be safe up here. Of course down below I heard screaming and saw lights from houses go on. People ran around like little ants whose path has been blocked.
Off in the distance I saw a giant wave wash over the old Polson, quickly making it's way to the new part. I watched. It was like a wave from the ocean that had washed up on shore destroying a small sand village, everything was being destroyed and people were drowning. All this time, I was completely at ease.
I felt a hand interlace it's fingers with mine, and I looked to my right to see a boney hand with a scar as if it had been burned. I contiuned to gaze upon the mysterious body, seeing that the burn scar was connected to more all up and down it's arm. All I remember was that the body was naked like I, and I could not see the face of this mysterious being that was holding my hand. We did not do anything. We simply stood there and watched all of the town being consumed by the wave. I tried to say something but a boney finger came up to my lips to shhh me. I looked into the blurred face and we embraced, our naked bodies touching, our heartbeats matched. That was when I saw the wave right in front of us...
I woke up in a sweat. I want to know what it means, especially since it's one of the very few dreams I remember all the details of. But maybe that's the point of it, I'm not supposed to know what it means, or at least the conscious part of me, but maybe the sub-conscious part is the only one that does and should know. That's okay, because I could use a little more mystery in my life.
I don't feel that.
And of course the only other person that would be out, is homeless Joe, with the Wolf Den sign glowing eerily above his head inviting in other lonely strangers.
I had a dream last night, and I don't know what to make out of it. I'm usually really good at these things. Figuring out dreams for my friends and it seems to make total fucking sense. Yet, whenever I try to figure out my dreams, I always have the hardest of times, because it all could mean so much that is going on in my life. It's weird really.
In this dream I had a really weird feeling. I don't know what it was, but it was as if something was trying to tell me that I needed to be alert, so I was at all times. I was getting prepared for whatever was going to happen, and I was ready at any moment for anything. Yet, nothing would happen.
It soon got to be night out and I couldn't sleep. I was trying to but I just couldn't. (I think it's because I was already asleep.) I felt tired and I felt like I needed to sleep but I just couldn't, no matter what I tried. It was then as if I needed to move, to get out of my house and just go somewhere, yet I didn't know where to go in the middle of the night in Polson, since Polson pretty much closes down at ten.
Yet I had this desire, this need that I needed to fullfill to go somewhere. So I found myself walking out of my front door like I did this sort of thing all the time and I was walking. My feet were bare, I remember that, and I could feel the rocks pinch at my feet as I walked over them. This whole time, I felt like something was going to happen, and it was going to happen soon. The feeling inside of me only got stronger with every step I took, I had to get away from something that was going to happen. I had to get safe.
I was suddenly in this new part of the town that I had never noticed before. It was as if someone built this overnight and it had been there for all the years I had lived in Polson. It was so strange and I wondered where I was, if I was still in Polson, but I knew I was. I had to be, and no matter how much I wanted to stop and look around I couldn't stop, I had to keep walking. Soon I was at the bottom of a giant hill that seemed to overlook everything and then I started climbing. It was a tough climb, but it was as if I gracefully floated up to the top. I stood atop that hill and looked down.
I was looking down upon the new part of Polson as well as Polson itself. Up from this giant hill I could see everything that was happening. Street lights illuminated the sillhouette of the city giving it a kind of greeny outline. Yet I didn't know why I was up on this hill, I just knew deep down inside of me I had to be there.
I soon found myself standing there completely buck-naked. Entirely exposed to all of Polson and the new part of Polson, and I didn't even remember taking off my clothes. To be honest, I don't even remember if I was even wearing clothes before I got up there. If I wasn't, it wasn't until just then that I noticed. I looked around, embarrassed, but I was alone up there on that giant hill over looking the old and new Polson; I got a sense of freedom and relief and felt totally comfortable after.
Then tremors shook the giant hill and at first I started to freak out, or at least in my head I did. I did know however, that no matter what I would be safe up here. Of course down below I heard screaming and saw lights from houses go on. People ran around like little ants whose path has been blocked.
Off in the distance I saw a giant wave wash over the old Polson, quickly making it's way to the new part. I watched. It was like a wave from the ocean that had washed up on shore destroying a small sand village, everything was being destroyed and people were drowning. All this time, I was completely at ease.
I felt a hand interlace it's fingers with mine, and I looked to my right to see a boney hand with a scar as if it had been burned. I contiuned to gaze upon the mysterious body, seeing that the burn scar was connected to more all up and down it's arm. All I remember was that the body was naked like I, and I could not see the face of this mysterious being that was holding my hand. We did not do anything. We simply stood there and watched all of the town being consumed by the wave. I tried to say something but a boney finger came up to my lips to shhh me. I looked into the blurred face and we embraced, our naked bodies touching, our heartbeats matched. That was when I saw the wave right in front of us...
I woke up in a sweat. I want to know what it means, especially since it's one of the very few dreams I remember all the details of. But maybe that's the point of it, I'm not supposed to know what it means, or at least the conscious part of me, but maybe the sub-conscious part is the only one that does and should know. That's okay, because I could use a little more mystery in my life.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
July 8, 2011: Someday my Prince will come
It’s 12:19 am here, in this small town of nowheresville, montana. Nothing outside stirs, except for the occasional leaf that flutters relentlesly in the soft breeze. I know that on main street, street lamps illuminate the vacant area. The Wolf Den sign flickers on though, inviting the lonely drunks to go an visit with friends that never leaave. The cheap smell of whiskey wafts through the town, blanketing us all for a well rested night for tomorrow.
In earlier posts I mentioned people are probably never going to read this, nor respond to it in anyway. It doesn’t matter to me, because this is like a diary for me, a place to put down my thoughts, my ideas so that I can come back to them and re-read them. If someone happens to stumble upon it and read them, well let them, this is on the net for a reason right?
I can’t help but thinking about tonight, and all the other nights of my life, where I am going to bed yet again without having anyone to say goodnight too, except ofcourse my mother and dog but that’s not what I’m getting at.
I wonder if you can loose the feeling of love? If one hasn’t loved in a long time can it just slip away from them like a good dream that we want to cherish forever, yet when we want to tell someone about it, it’s gone from our lips; evaporated, leaving nothing but the cracks and dried blood to tremble there for a minute while your eyes sting with water, all because you forgot the most beautiful thing in your life.
Now I don’t know about you, but I have had those moments plenty a times in my life. It’s that dream you wake up from that makes you feel more alive than you have ever felt before, yet you can’t remember a thing! You know that there was something amazing about it but you can’t quite put your finger on it. Yet, not matter how hard you try, after that it’s gone forever until suddenly 20 years later you have the same dream, or maybe it’s the second part, but it doesn’t matter because you won’t remember it anyways.
Dreams…. I have a ton of them, and not just one’s that I get from sleeping, but actual dreams, goals in my life. Do you want to hear one of them? Okay… here it goes.
I have this dream, that one day, probably in my early 40’s, when I still look half way young and good looking, I will have this amazing partner in my life, you looks a little bit like Joseph Gordon-Levitt, or maybe Heath Ledger. He always has the best style, dressing in cute suits but with some hipster style thrown into the bunch. His smile was goes up just a bit more on the left side of his face and gives him this sort of goofy yet totally sexy look, and he has a bit of stubble that I love to rub my hands on and my cheek when I kiss him. His personality is a little bit boyish but amazingly mature with those times where we love to just laugh together. He keeps me on track of everything and no matter what is much like my mother, when I get stressed he sits me down and talks me through what is going to happen.
With that, we would live in a nice house somewhere in upper Manhattan (if we lived in New York) or in a nice victorian styled house in a suburban part of Chicago, close to the center of the city. I would be a photographer who was well renowned and I’d be a bit of a socialite. My partner would be a pretty important person in I think the art world, maybe he would write books, or make independet films, or be a photographer as well?
We would have quite the friends and acquantinces, it would be almost perfect, but not, because like any normal couple we would fight. There would be one moment where we weren’t together for two years because we broke up due to the fact that he had met a younger guy while on his job and had an affair, yet in the end we find out that we can’t be without each other and even though things are off to a rocky start when we get back together, it all turns out.
Somewhere however, in our late thirties, we will adopt a kid. I don’t know if it would be a girl or boy, maybe a boy. I’ve always wanted a little boy so I could feel like the father I never had, just to make amends with the fact. He would love us, we would love him, we’d have our struggles because kids would tease him about having two dads, he would go on to “hate” us in his teen years but never really did. He’d go to college, or maybe not, to get into something he really wanted to, I forsee something with art in his future and when we grew old, he’d take care of us. He would also get married and have kids of his own, making us grandparents. He’d be very successful!
In the end my partner would die off first, I would live life like a sad disney movie until I found out my last kick before I died and would end up with my family and my beloved partner in where ever you go when you die!
That’s my dream.
That’s the ultimate goal in life. On the way I would also be an activist for LGBT groups as well as anti-corporate tobacco groups and also hopefully do some motivational speaking at FCCLA, in which I was in almost all my life!
In the end of the grand scheme of things I would learn that my life was always perfect, even if it didn’t seem like it. To me, everything turned out to be perfect.
In earlier posts I mentioned people are probably never going to read this, nor respond to it in anyway. It doesn’t matter to me, because this is like a diary for me, a place to put down my thoughts, my ideas so that I can come back to them and re-read them. If someone happens to stumble upon it and read them, well let them, this is on the net for a reason right?
I can’t help but thinking about tonight, and all the other nights of my life, where I am going to bed yet again without having anyone to say goodnight too, except ofcourse my mother and dog but that’s not what I’m getting at.
I wonder if you can loose the feeling of love? If one hasn’t loved in a long time can it just slip away from them like a good dream that we want to cherish forever, yet when we want to tell someone about it, it’s gone from our lips; evaporated, leaving nothing but the cracks and dried blood to tremble there for a minute while your eyes sting with water, all because you forgot the most beautiful thing in your life.
Now I don’t know about you, but I have had those moments plenty a times in my life. It’s that dream you wake up from that makes you feel more alive than you have ever felt before, yet you can’t remember a thing! You know that there was something amazing about it but you can’t quite put your finger on it. Yet, not matter how hard you try, after that it’s gone forever until suddenly 20 years later you have the same dream, or maybe it’s the second part, but it doesn’t matter because you won’t remember it anyways.
Dreams…. I have a ton of them, and not just one’s that I get from sleeping, but actual dreams, goals in my life. Do you want to hear one of them? Okay… here it goes.
I have this dream, that one day, probably in my early 40’s, when I still look half way young and good looking, I will have this amazing partner in my life, you looks a little bit like Joseph Gordon-Levitt, or maybe Heath Ledger. He always has the best style, dressing in cute suits but with some hipster style thrown into the bunch. His smile was goes up just a bit more on the left side of his face and gives him this sort of goofy yet totally sexy look, and he has a bit of stubble that I love to rub my hands on and my cheek when I kiss him. His personality is a little bit boyish but amazingly mature with those times where we love to just laugh together. He keeps me on track of everything and no matter what is much like my mother, when I get stressed he sits me down and talks me through what is going to happen.
With that, we would live in a nice house somewhere in upper Manhattan (if we lived in New York) or in a nice victorian styled house in a suburban part of Chicago, close to the center of the city. I would be a photographer who was well renowned and I’d be a bit of a socialite. My partner would be a pretty important person in I think the art world, maybe he would write books, or make independet films, or be a photographer as well?
We would have quite the friends and acquantinces, it would be almost perfect, but not, because like any normal couple we would fight. There would be one moment where we weren’t together for two years because we broke up due to the fact that he had met a younger guy while on his job and had an affair, yet in the end we find out that we can’t be without each other and even though things are off to a rocky start when we get back together, it all turns out.
Somewhere however, in our late thirties, we will adopt a kid. I don’t know if it would be a girl or boy, maybe a boy. I’ve always wanted a little boy so I could feel like the father I never had, just to make amends with the fact. He would love us, we would love him, we’d have our struggles because kids would tease him about having two dads, he would go on to “hate” us in his teen years but never really did. He’d go to college, or maybe not, to get into something he really wanted to, I forsee something with art in his future and when we grew old, he’d take care of us. He would also get married and have kids of his own, making us grandparents. He’d be very successful!
In the end my partner would die off first, I would live life like a sad disney movie until I found out my last kick before I died and would end up with my family and my beloved partner in where ever you go when you die!
That’s my dream.
That’s the ultimate goal in life. On the way I would also be an activist for LGBT groups as well as anti-corporate tobacco groups and also hopefully do some motivational speaking at FCCLA, in which I was in almost all my life!
In the end of the grand scheme of things I would learn that my life was always perfect, even if it didn’t seem like it. To me, everything turned out to be perfect.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
July 4, 2011: Dear Camera, Why are you so damn sexy?
Okay after 2 weeks of not having done a blog, or laundry! I am finally on top of doing both! Yah!
These past two weeks have been quite crazy for me with lots of drama, orientation and cute guys. (: Anyhoo... on with the blog...
I can definitely tell you that I don't think I've felt this way in a very long time. But it seems I get this way every summer and it always ends terribly. I would like to blame summer, for getting me in this weird state of hormones, but I know that it is just the way my life is put together and I shouldn't be so fucking surprised that it's happening... again.
Okay, I'll set up a scenario for you all. Imagine you just got enough money to go buy that brand new camera you've always had your eye on. Let's say for instance, that it's a Nikon d5000. One of the best newer cameras on the market right? Well you finally can go buy it, and for a really good deal! I have that feeling. That feeling of anticipation and excitement of something new in your life, like you can take on the world with just you and that camera. Again, I have that feeling.
Let's remember when you first set eyes on that camera. It was by accidental chance when you first bumped into it, but you did see it before getting your hands on it saying to yourself and friends, “Wow, that's a HOT camera!” And you know it is, as well as everyone else in the room! You always find yourself trying to get glimpses of it every here and there to see if it's pointing on you, about to take your picture so you can feel like you are a part of that camera!
Finally it is your chance to get one and you are sooo excited because fun fact, it has been taking pictures of you and you've got to see them afterwords. The sad part is you don't know if that's the one you want at first, you do a shit load of research and asking friends. You tell them about it and they all point to the signs of “Yes!”
So out of all of that you reach out for it. At first it takes a while to find it, you know “the one.” But soon you do! It's a total of self-fulfillment when you do and you are beyond anything in the world to just look at it and bask in it's utter beauty! Then you buy it....
That's the best part! It's gorgeous, it works nice, no damaged goods and best of all, your friends were right about it, as were your suspicions of it. Now it's like you can't stop taking pictures with it; you want to see the beauty, fun, and happiness it brings in your life. The sucky part is is that it has a crappy warranty. The great thing, you don't care, just as long as you are making beauty with it!
That's how I feel right now. I have found my camera and I'm making beauty with it. We had a couple bumps along the road however just a while ago, but I think in the end all of it will work it's way to a solution.
xoxo
JW
These past two weeks have been quite crazy for me with lots of drama, orientation and cute guys. (: Anyhoo... on with the blog...
I can definitely tell you that I don't think I've felt this way in a very long time. But it seems I get this way every summer and it always ends terribly. I would like to blame summer, for getting me in this weird state of hormones, but I know that it is just the way my life is put together and I shouldn't be so fucking surprised that it's happening... again.
Okay, I'll set up a scenario for you all. Imagine you just got enough money to go buy that brand new camera you've always had your eye on. Let's say for instance, that it's a Nikon d5000. One of the best newer cameras on the market right? Well you finally can go buy it, and for a really good deal! I have that feeling. That feeling of anticipation and excitement of something new in your life, like you can take on the world with just you and that camera. Again, I have that feeling.
Let's remember when you first set eyes on that camera. It was by accidental chance when you first bumped into it, but you did see it before getting your hands on it saying to yourself and friends, “Wow, that's a HOT camera!” And you know it is, as well as everyone else in the room! You always find yourself trying to get glimpses of it every here and there to see if it's pointing on you, about to take your picture so you can feel like you are a part of that camera!
Finally it is your chance to get one and you are sooo excited because fun fact, it has been taking pictures of you and you've got to see them afterwords. The sad part is you don't know if that's the one you want at first, you do a shit load of research and asking friends. You tell them about it and they all point to the signs of “Yes!”
So out of all of that you reach out for it. At first it takes a while to find it, you know “the one.” But soon you do! It's a total of self-fulfillment when you do and you are beyond anything in the world to just look at it and bask in it's utter beauty! Then you buy it....
That's the best part! It's gorgeous, it works nice, no damaged goods and best of all, your friends were right about it, as were your suspicions of it. Now it's like you can't stop taking pictures with it; you want to see the beauty, fun, and happiness it brings in your life. The sucky part is is that it has a crappy warranty. The great thing, you don't care, just as long as you are making beauty with it!
That's how I feel right now. I have found my camera and I'm making beauty with it. We had a couple bumps along the road however just a while ago, but I think in the end all of it will work it's way to a solution.
xoxo
JW
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