Ramblings #2

*blowsoff keyboard, dusts off screen* wow, it's been a little while since I have posted something worth a while. This post doesn't change that fact. This winter break, my thoughts altered yet again. My dad asked me where I am going to school, if I am still going to try to go where my cousin is. I said no, just to the schools around her. I want her to go to Standford. That's both one of our dream locations. California<3 He asked me what I want to study, Philosophy I said. Scholarships won't pay for that. And I won't make money. How about business? No, I won't stay in school for that. No motivation. Josh said, do what I love he will support me. I said what If my dad is right, what if I am poor and homeless? He said I could be a teacher or a college professor and I will never be homeless. I told him I don't want to come back here, to Oklahoma. He said why. I said because I can't I won't be able to. It's because I can't seem to fit into any of the lifestyles that are here. I can't seem to have my roots in this soil, it's not comfortable. I mean I could, but my roots will be resistant and fidgety settling here. No one has a pull that I need. I want to leave here and fall in love. Lose myself. Josh says either I won't be able to leave because I am too attached to Jennah or I will come back for her. She is practically my kid. I raised her the first four years of her life, my mom won't admit it. Those were HER bad years, not my dad's. Jennah needed me, and I needed something to occupy my adult mind in my child body. It's weird, knowing I once raised my sister. That's the reason I won't able able to bring myself back once I leave, I won't be able to leave my sister and mom and everyone else behind again. William and Justina want me to stay after I graduate. Justina wants me to take her away once she graduates. I don't want to be that person for her, her escape. I want to act my escape out, on my own. I need to leave, I wrote a ten paged goodbye letter. Explaining where I will be, why I don't want anyone following me. It will be laying on my fireplace mantle in the summer of 2011 without me laying in my bed upstairs. The thing is, where will I go after? I want to just drive drive drive, find somewhere that makes my stomach flutter. See what happens with the butterflies. I want to settle in a city and work a cliche job, like at a coffee shop, or a bookstore, or a diner and make my simple small paychecks, smoke and write when I am not working. Live in a small apartment, with windows, and a balcony. But I have no money to get away in the first place. I need to start saving, saving anything I get. So I will be able to make this dream my reality. I don't want to lose this dream, it's what makes me who I am, how I all started out. I can't allow myself to stay a moment longer than necessary. I need that kind of realism to wake me up once again, to take a situation by the horns and see how much I can shake out before I become weak from using so much energy. I decided after winter break I am going to quit smoking until summer. It is becoming boring and a chore. I need to dust off my brain. I am forgetting things I would like to remember. Time does funny things. Another year is turning, like a giant beast slurring in his listless sleep. I miss my insomniac nights and my never ending thoughts. I miss the whir in my head and the pitter of my soft thoughts. These ramblings were first let out to Josh and Courtney, then I needed someone else to read these words. So it's like a strand of scarves a magician pulls out of his sleeve that doesn't end until such a long long time. This strand has run out of length though. So I am done, for now.

Today, as I sit on my bed, feeling the valleys in-between my ribs, I am thinking. That I am nurturing so I am bound to be given second mom responsibilities because I won't back out of them due to my guilt. That people will walk in and out of your life for so quick, they only stayed for a five minute visit. But other's can come over for a visit and end up staying the whole weekend. The trick is getting them to stay for a whole month. That you can miss any of those people so much. That I am so propelled by my heart, I can walk miles in the freezing cold to see someone. That I still love him, all the same. that I have two sets of mind emotions. High: well we all don't need an explanation of that. Low: when I am drowning in my illness. That I love to play music on people's heartstrings. That the quiet various with season. In the winter it has a heater humming with the piercing silence. In the summer, the piercing silence mates with the screaming locusts. That this room is quiet and I wish I could share it with somebody. It is cold when no one is here, so now I always have somebody over with me. That now, I can sit somewhere and my eyes start pouring out tears but I'm not crying. That I hate it when my limbs fall asleep.

I'm scared.

I want to die. And I don't like living like that. I hate my thoughts because they are jagged mosaic pieces. And when put together in my head, they don't make much of a pretty picture. I want to love him again and I want to be lost in him again. I want to be aware. Oh how I want to be aware again. I'm anxious to die, to just get this all over with. All of it. living failing dying. I want it now. Anticipation isn't fair. I want to stop breathing, cease. Just so I could blink and open my eyes and see something new. Feel something new. I'm shaking in the inside. I'm losing my strings that are tethering me here. I speak. I fall. I eat. I consume. I steal. I lie. I sleep. I dream. I think. I am bored with it, exhausted of it. I'm worn out. And done for. Like that vintage tshirt you push in the washer with the jeans just so it will get worn out faster, more soft. I want to die, to escape. To be released.

And the engine rattles my bum like biserk

I remember how close we became, linked mentally. I remember how raw my throat was, and how hoarse and ragged yours became. Bearing myself like that, spilling my whole silvery insides out like that- was overwhelming and exhausting. I didn't know how much I could tell someone, how much trust was there. I miss you. I am missing a part of the past, a friend, a connection. I remember that gooey grilled cheese sandwich you made me. Or the time we made cupcakes. How we cooked and explained what we were doing with Indian/British/hillbilly accents on our own cooking show. How we stayed up into the wee hours of dawn. How we would send each other links to things that arouse our bored state of mind. How we slapped those jacks till our hands were red or just too numb to play. How we sat in front of your computer, hours and hours upon end. How we dirtied your room playing dress up. How we cried together. How much we laughed together. How we came up with these grand schemes for me and you. How we pinched each other. How you scared the shit out of me and I never paid you back. How mature we grew with each other. How relaxed we were together. How we shared iPod earphones in your bed, dad's car, my dad's car. How we whispered to each other. How we fake screamed at each other. How hard we hugged each other. How alone and together we felt. How we went to the mall and rainbow ice cream. How I stole all of your candy( I still have to make that up to you). How I drew on your shoes with shakey hands because it was the last day I had with you, or so we thought. How I texted you in the night, knowing your insomniac ass would be awake too. How you would make funny noises. How you would make those faces. This is a memoir to my imprint half. I miss you.

I want; I yearn for

Forehead kisses, shared silences, whispered secrets, my name uttered on my lips, a graceful touch on my arm, intertwined fingers, a kiss on the ledge on my neck, warm cuddles, shared nights, shared blunts, smoky kisses, laughs at the moon, starlight wishes, promised gestures, gleaming eyes, butterflies, my ribs played like a piano, collar bone elegance, romantic urges, splintered smiles, a hazy gaze, smelting eyes, plonky toike toys, hushed tones, the essence of my name, a pounding heart, a quivering hand, a trembling mind, Goosebumps, wisdom, an adventurer, a knowledgeable explorer, tender hugs, entangled limbs, escalated breathing, shared shadows, shared lyrics, a lifeline, confessions, affection, intimacy, fights, inside quotations, insightful words, a delicate embrace, small gifts- like a pencil that is a reminder, fragile whispers, knotted tummies, curious tongues, puzzle piece of a body, melting smile, shaking legs, trembling hearts, rushed goodbyes, lingering see you laters, random facts, spooky moments, shared snickering, gooey text messages, displaying emotions, memories, wonderment, to be breathtaking, a finally, returns of everything, chasing, a "his" scent, a "his" hoodie, late night pickups, tumbles into bed, a reason, shared high moments, togetherness, openness, wholeness, epic, amazing, wings, glitter kisses, to be darling, simplicity, effort, feathered sleepings, shared light dozing, pick me ups, surprises, looped arms, graceful, handsome, perfect hands, guitar songs, odes, to be "his" muse, to swoon, fireworks, magic, to be delicate, sharp, my stomach to hurt from laughing so hard, wiped tears, nose kisses, butterfly kisses on every inch of my body, to be wanted, worries, time slipping by like Elmer’s glue, morning breath kisses, fragile nuzzles, to meet a merman god, a philosopher, early morning cartoons, walks, a courageous lion, a brave scarecrow, shouts to the wind, photographs, a nerdo, an oddball, a silly goose, shooting stars, tumbling in sheets, paragraphs for me, a poet, love notes, care packages, extreme hope, boundless, bundles of small flowers, intrepid fingers, grazing fingertips, a feverish tongue, dreams, a hippy, a skater, a punk, a rocker, a stoner, a lover, shared body heat, stolen glances, midnight dances, rainy kisses, retarded moments, connections, gentle words, cozy nights, lovely mumbles, campfires, smothering kisses, breathtaking kisses, lullabies, to be a muse, to be tamed, to be awakened, naked slumbers, to be weak in the knees,...

Love is an endless ocean. I am a creature from the depths of hell's black seas. Josh's love harbors my being. The yucky beautiful grotesque being I am. I've dirtied him up, made me feel guilty so I began to search for the tiny amounts of other love puddles, drawing them nearer by making them grow. Soon it is close enough where I can reach out a little, dip in a limb. I'll let it soak, pollute it a little. Then see how the water levels and chemical balances check. Make my observations and see if it dries up. All of those little puddles and pools have dried up. So I am stuck in this harbor, rusting as I rot. This skeleton is too small for my being. Josh was big enough to anchor it. Like I was a balloon angel. His legs started to shake from the effort and then quake and then soon collapse. I flew away and he crumbled. I wasn't there to see, so I had no idea. I don't know what caused me and him to fight all those months ago, and not speak to each other. It was agony, torture. I missed him so much, I forgot about everything. Even the cause. I don't remember this time of year, a year ago; wait was it two years ago? My time perception is so off, I cannot recall. I want to have the courage to leave him. Because he wants to leave, he just won't because of the guilt. But I am so weak, so frail and withered. I want to leave him because he hurts. He hurts that I hurt. And I am in constant hurt.

But the thought of me needing him is grand. If I left josh now, I see it from his point "she told me I didn't have to speak for a while, and then she said she was on the verge of figuring it all out and then she disappeared" and really that's what would happen. That or the real deal: death. He helped me create this mutant blood that runs through these veins. He molded me. I was the artist of final touches. Without him, my heart would drive my head insane. I would end up writing my last love letter in my own red ink. (I have probably writing him over 60 love notes; he's gotten bits and pieces of it. But never all of them) I can go a day or two without talking to him. But understand this: it is so fucking hard to ignore the deep agitating banging in my skull, the want of conversation. A simple conversation. It's so hard to ignore those random thoughts that he would enjoy knowing. It's so hard to let go because I can't stop hoping for the impossible to happen. I always want what I can't have. That's why I still love him as much as I do. He is a habit. And he is the habit I can't break. The habit I don’t want to break.

Guilty nicotine high with a rubbish mood. A year and a handful of months and I am forever gone. I will run run and run, until there is nothing left of me but dusty memories. I want to see who cares enough to chase after me. I don't know what to do about the Donnie situation. I'm so tired of feeling like an awkward fairy and a weirdo alien and a freak crackhead when I speak to him. I am feeling loneliness for William. I'm also feeling afraid, of just losing Josh. I put so much delicacy in my words that they almost become too fragile for someone else to know and bear the feather light weight of them. I am caught up in the tangles of life. I'm choking because I'm claustrophobic.

I want to ask anyone at all, preferably Courtney (I also want to ask William. But he is too afraid), to catch me in their fingers, cup their hands and then intertwine their fingers so I won't get loose. Then when we both know I'm ready, morphed enough to fit in my morphed body, I'll get myself back. Fully caged in my bird's cage. Fluttering about. Comfortably fit able. Because that's how fruggle I am. Because that how much life and society crumbles. And I get all crumbly inside too. Crumbling so much I feel like a gram cracker smushed up inside a preschooler’s lunch. Or like their peanut butter jelly sandwich. Where the bread has gotten all soggy, and some parts are bleeding all over the suffocating bag. And I just am squished in every emotion and I am trying to find a way out of the suffocating bag we call life. And that's what hurts me though. Being suffocated and not being able to catch my breath. I'm stuck behind this see through layer. Watching this pitiful life go by.

Updation.

I am just getting the past 3 days off my head.

Two nights ago, I got blown and past out early. 3:30 in the moning, William called em to tell me to wake up, he was a minute away. So then he calls me back and says to come outside. So I did and he is sitting there in his car (he is 15, he doesn't have a lisence) and I was like wait, We are leaving. And he said yes he didn't take the car out for nothing. So I went back upstairs and made my bed like I was in it, got my phone and keys and bounced. Around 4:15--we get pulled over. He asks William to step out of the car and he searches him. Pats him down and everything. Then he gets in the back of the cop car. I am sitting in William's car shaking for at least 30 minutes, then a second cop car pulls out. And his mom hops out, William gets out, tells me to get out of the front seat because his mom is going to take us home. So his mom get's in, looks at me and kinda laughs (wtf?) then starts to drive. She then asks me where I live and I told her. The rest of the drive was silent. William at one points leans his head back on the seat as if to say "shit. I fucked up." I felt like touching his soulder and it took everything I had not to. I finally got home, snuck back in, stole a cigarette from my mom smoked it, then crashed. I woke up the next morning so very very confused. I mean why was it my house he chose to go to? I mean he did say that he called everyone, but they fell asleep. If so, why didn't he just go home? Why was I the last resort? By the way, he is the most calmest driver ever. I was so relaxed with him driving. That is until we got pulled over, but whatever.

Today: Turkey day.

I am wearing my jamacin pants, and my super hero tshirt. My step grandma, who is 69, was like would you like to ride with me? I said yes. We got into her car and she says I have a surprise for you. And I just KNEW. She pulls out a metal tin container for bandaides and I was like "Bandaides?" And she asked me if I wanted a bandaide, I told her yes. She opens it, pulls out a twisted joint and a clear pruple lighter. We pull away and start our journey. We smoke it with my D.J.ing the radio. We finally put it out and she is telling me all these stories about her being a kid and shit. Like when she was ltitle she liked to suck on her fingers and play with "googles" (what she called boobs)...or maybe it was goggles...anyways. Then she started talking about her polish grandma and how my stepgrandma was her favorite. We were takign a route that showed old plain western Oklahoma meets urban suburbia. It was trippy but really cool. Then we got to my real grandma's house and I ate so much.

I'll post my very important post later today. Goodbye for now.