Category Archive

…are nothing i care about.

walking beside me. asking for my opinion. strong face. strong lines. something more than what you see. and you ask for my reason. my reason for breathing. i tell you it’s nothing. i’m just floating. you smile and say you agree. what are you doing with life? you smile, again. maybe it’s luck. everything happens for a reason.

you smile with your eyes.

if the blue eyes compared to the dark soul that is my love, i might be more nervous. if you were taller, i might be weaker. if you were the love of my life, it might make sense to me how wonderful you are.

so you say, “take it.” and i say, “i can’t.” but i take it, because i can’t not. and you smile. so i smile back. boys like my smile. so i know that i got you. i can see it in your eyes. you now want to do whatever you can to see me smile again. you are going to want to rescue me.

and i stop. thats why i loved him. because he didn’t care. he didnt jump in front of cars for me. he didn’t make me care for him back. i just did. and i thought about why i loved this man. this man who couldn’t even save himself, let alone me. i loved him cause he never tried. and he was too dumb to realize that i loved him for nothing he wasn’t. he was a walking disaster and i would have gladly followed him down. and then i would have laughed when he commented on how high he had climbed.

and there you are. i don’t love you in that way, right now. but i could, eventually. it takes years to love. and i’m not ready to settle. i’m still floating. floating on bad luck. bad luck that will take you away from me. then your good luck will keep you there. away from me. but can i try? see it out? maybe you could like me. maybe we can’t tell right now. maybe it doesn’t matter. maybe you could be. for me? i wish the future made sense. maybe there are other things in life. maybe you are the most beautiful man i’ve seen close up. maybe.

and i ask you. who are we making jealous right now? we smile. no one cares. it’s just you and me. and we’re just talking.

how can a book be a bestseller when it’s obviously the stupidest concept ever conceived?

how to become a bitch. how to change who you are to attract those that wouldn’t love you otherwise. how to be miserable. how to really hate who you are.

i don’t know if the word i’m looking for is ironic. but i think it’s funny that a book that is supposed to explain how to get guys to want you, tells you to act like a complete cunt in order to acheive this. so lie to yourself, and deny who you really are. self help for the 00’s.

i’m sure the tactic is wonderful. and i’m sure that every girl that reads it and applies it will be happy. happy with a man who fell in love with someone they weren’t… have fun living up to a person you will never be. have fun living up to a person you’d never want to be.

if you want to get a man and you can’t, try internet dating, there are some desperate men out there who are ready and waiting to love you. otherwise, don’t waste your money on a book who’s entire premise is to make women feel bad for what they are.

you are good, sincere, honest, vulnerable, and beautiful. the last bitch i met was ugly, fat, and got men. well, she got men to sleep with her, and she really had no one to talk to when she was sad, because in order to get men, she had to pretend that she was never sad. needless to say, she wasn’t my idol. my favorite thing to do is cry, and have someone accidently find me and hug me.

i’m a chick. every chick can be a bitch. it’s in us. but really you are allowed to do whatever you want. if you want to call a guy. call him. he may think your clingy. so just love yourself enough to let him go.

i get the idea. but i wish the book got the idea.

you are wonderful. start acting like you know it, and everyone, not just men, will love you. there’s something so special about a girl that believes in herself. you sad, vulnerable, nagging, sagging, over-bearing, emotionally wrecked, compliment-fishing chick. you just might change the world. but you have to be okay with who you are first.

it shouldn’t be “why men love bitches” it should be “why men love women who respect themselves” but honestly people, where is the book called, “why women love men who make a lot of money, dress well, don’t get angry when drunk, and have power but don’t abuse it”? because honestly, a guy knows he doesn’t need any of those things and he can still get a chick to sleep with him.

so for all those who are already bitches, buy the book. it will make you feel good about yourself, and that’s what we’re all about here. loving ourselves.

i’m out.

i grew up with lindsey. and when i say i grew up with lindsey, i mean we spent are most formidable eighth grade through high school years together.

we would slide down her stairs on sleeping bags, and when that wasn’t enough, we would use mattresses. when it was cold we would walk to a tiny hill and snowboard down it. we were never good snow boarders. later in college, before i dropped out, we went to starbucks once a week, it was a ritual. and there she taught me about straws.

“okay alyssa, take the straw wrapper, tie it in a knot, then pull on both ends. think about the boy you love. if it’s still a knot after you pull, then he’s not thinking of you. if it’s not a knot. then you know. he wants you.”

i believe in the straws.

two summers ago, i taught jacey about the straws. whenever we would order an iced grande soy caramel macchiatto or an iced grande soy green tea latte, we would hold the straw wrappers, and together, we would pull, and together we would get angry or overjoyed that the men we loved were not or were totally, oh em gee, thinking about us. she said, “i believe in the straws.” fact: those boys thought about us a lot, but currently, i doubt they think that often. now we pull straws for other boys.

back five years ago, when i went to harper college with lindsey, who is currently graduated by the way, i pulled straws for a blonde with blue eyes and giant biceps. he told me that i was his best friend. according to the straws, he thought about me a lot, and i would smile, and innocently say, “of course he’s thinking about me, he loves me.” no one ever gave me the kind of attention he gave me. he told me i was pretty, that he liked my conversation. i thought he looked like a cokehead, but he seemed intelligent, and he liked to drive me home. i never told him i liked him, because i doubt i was sure. but i loved hearing that he liked me. he said it all the time. threw it at me, like i could handle that kind of pressure.

one day while driving me home he told me he was dating this other chick with a big smile, googly eyes, and love handles. the straws didn’t lie. he did. this girl had nothing on me. she was lame. and they broke up four months later. but still, my heart was broken a thousand times over. because i must not have been as beautiful, interesting, smart and wonderful as my mom tried telling me i was.

three years later, there was a boy. he lived in wisconsin and he had green eyes and a scruffy face. he played the guitar and smelled like sun burn. i liked him way too long for my own good. in fact, he wasn’t special, just quiet. just interesting to me. he liked me and then fingered a blonde from kenosha. whenever he got intoxicated he told me that he wished he could be with me, but that this other chick was his girlfriend. i told him that he should have checked the straws. they would have told him that i thought about him everyday.

“i didn’t know you liked me too, i would have chosen you. i’m with her now, don’t wait for me,” he said. drunk talk never turned me on. i didn’t wait for him, in fact i got sick of him telling me how much he wanted me when he was drunk, and dating someone else when he was sober. so i stopped seeing him altogether.

that year i met a boy with brown eyes. he was tall with a nice back. to me he wasn’t real. just a figment of my imagination. i needed something like that. something that i didn’t have to put my trust in. he was never something that could break my heart, because he wasn’t the type to ask for my heart in the first place. so i liked him, because it was hard not too. he was mean, and mean made sense. nice guys always dated other girls, because of reasons the straws don’t inform you of. mean guys don’t think of you at all, trust the straws. they don’t lie. he never thought of me. and i could deal with it. until i couldn’t anymore.

the first time i remember talking to him, i pulled straws with him. he was setting up the bar, and had to unwrap the straws for drinks later. he told me i was a quiet talker. i’m not. i’m kind of a loud talker, actually. i wanted to figure out everything about him, i used to stare at him, just to see if i could learn something knew. he would catch me, but i never got that embarrased. he intrigued me, and i knew he wasn’t about to be intrigued back, so i had really nothing to lose. he never promised me, told me he liked me, or gave me reason to expect.

you can read back a year ago. i wrote about him. somewhere in between not caring and the truth, he messed my heart up more than any of them. he never even gave me a reason to believe in him, but i did. he wasn’t good to me, but i liked everything he was. and here i tried to figure out, why me, a smart girl, with a hurt, but normal self-esteem would actually go for someone who treated her like shit. he was my favorite, and the straws, and everything in general, told me that i wasn’t his.

i still like him. and i still pull straws, but it’s more of a mindless thing. i don’t realize what i’m doing, like a ritual, or an ocd tendancy. because where the straws may not lie, they don’t tell you everything. and life is not a crazy, cosmic force that pulls people together and sends brain power through inadament objects– even though the thought occasionally crosses my mind.

in reality you can’t help who you like, and even when it hurts, you still think about that person. but that’s not fate, that’s just us, being retarded human beings, falling in and out of like, pain and optimism, thinking, because we can’t help thinking. i smile when i think about him now– it used to make me sad. i don’t know what changed, but i’m not really ready to understand anything.  i don’t even know what the purpose of all these words are.  i feel like if you read this far, you probably were really bored or something. anyway. i’m going to go to sleep.  sleep sounds exciting.

someone should give him a straw, because i am like so totally like thinking about him right now.

stronger. no stranger.
to me.
your face. wins the race.
eyes. don’t take the danger.
it’s mine.
hold back.
fight back.
eat shit.
and grow from your mistake.
mistook. me? i love it all.
i can’t believe.
we’re still alive.
after all.
you’re my wonderwall.
you’re my waterfall.
you’re my friend. afterall.
you’re trippin.
we got dis.
i’m open to your control.
hold on.
faster. faster.
if i let go.
you’ll come back.
if i let go.
they might come back.
and take you away from me.
slow down.
slowly.
now go.
slow.
uh huh.
oh please.
please.
no.
yes.
i’m stronger than this.
hold back.
slow down.
my face. still here for you to taste.
don’t let it fall to waste.
we might be.
uh.
there is no such thing.
i’d wear your diamond ring.
but not because you’re the one.
there is no such thing.
stranger. we are stronger.
than this.
no. we’re not.
slowly now.
i feel you.
i can’t breathe.

for all of you who never knew you were something good. i’m sorry. we should have built into you more.

when you came out of your room with your grandmother’s dress and fairy wings i should have swung you in my arms, so you could know what it feels like to really fly. instead, i yelled at you for ruining an heirloom.

when you were thrirteen, and just in need of some attention, i scolded you for wearing too much make up. i made you wash it off before you left the house. your face was blotchy and red with tears when i dropped you off with your friends. i should have let you know how beautiful you were without it, or with it. i should have let you go and be you.

i should have never forgotten the time. i should have paid attention. i never would have forgotten you on purpose. but i know sitting on the side of the road, waiting and watching every other parent but yours come and pick their child up, you felt forgotten. i know you felt alone. i’m sorry it happened more than once.

when you told me that you weren’t going to go to art school, i should have told you that you could do whatever you wanted, instead of telling you that you were going to amount to nothing without it. i knew you were better than art school, i just was afraid you didn’t.

i should have let you know how i proud of you i was when you skipped fourth grade. you were our star, straight ‘a’ daughter. i should have told you over and over how proud i was of you when you spent your entire new years day with the police and at the hospital. i want you to know, i’ve always been proud of your decisions in life.

i should have picked you up and held you, while you were still small enough to hold. i assumed that since you were quiet, you were content. i would have hugged you so tight, if i slowed down enough to realize your silent pleas for love.

maybe if i were to have told you everyday, how precious you really are to me. how beautiful. how smart. how talented. how even if you were none of those, i would love you anyway. maybe you wouldn’t ever feel defeated, alone, and sad. you would know that deep down you are better than that boy who doesn’t treat you right, the people who don’t understand you, and the feelings of hate toward yourself. you are so much better than this.

i wish i could make you believe that you are worth it. worth waiting for. worth the risk. you are and will forever be my precious. my little girl. my brown haired, green eyed, drop of light in a dark world. the world needs you. and you are still so afraid. i’m sorry i forgot to tell you that you are brave.

i see it. those who matter see it. you need to see it.

you, beautiful girl.

i’m sorry i let you down. don’t let yourself down. i love you more today, then i ever knew i could, yesterday.

you are my beautiful girl.

now. just smile.

…as usual.

thank your mother for her mistakes
they might be the only flaws in you i can take
the truth of you is honestly
more about your smile then your cruelty
and i’ll take you for a ride sometime
and we’ll come back tomorrow
but you won’t want to run home
just ask me and i promise we won’t go
you can save my kisses in your palm
but you gotta let me go
the reason i need you is wrong
and i’m working on it- so you know

like he said, lets thank are parents
for keeping in love
because we don’t know how
i want to be in love with something
but i don’t know how
i could make you love me
i’m sure.
but i don’t know how

they tried to make me go to rehab
but i said no no no.

tired hands that sweep over confused thoughts. my knee. your palm. my mouth and yours. and we try so hard to let go. so hard to breathe. so hard to let it go away. only time my friend. only time. and i will never see you again.

you were once a love. and you won’t let me go. you were once a dream. and you won’t let me wake up. i am a fool. but not yours. i am a stress. but not yours. only time my friend. only time. and once again you won’t be mine.

i turn around. my back towards you. your breath. my neck. and i feel you so close. i hope you leave. and i hope you stay. running fingers down my spine. so slow. spelling out memories on my skin. you tell me to guess. but i’m through with you. but i’m not. so i guess, “stay with me forever” and you say, “you’ll never get to know.”

 maybe with time my friend.

your fingers tangle through my hair. coiled up together. no way to break apart. i might lay thinking, there’s no way i could ever sleep. i might lay thinking, this should end, but i don’t want it to.

stolen words and phrases. hurts and pains that only get worse with time. because you hold on too long. and i need you gone. waking up empty is better when you are alone.

leave me here. i’ll be fine. pick up your pieces. make my life. start your future. don’t stop mine. i want you here. but it’s better if you go. turn around. and walk away.

with your back to me, i can rest. i won’t run my fingers down your spine. i won’t spell words and phrases. i won’t talk to you at all. with your back to me, i won’t ask you to turn around. i won’t wish my life on yours at all.

but you have to turn around.

trying to believe in a love that is simple.
in order to mind my own mind.
and to want what you already have.
i keep forgetting that we are not the same kind.
you have your brown hair.
and i have mine.
you have those grey eyes.
that some how say, you’re the mysterious kind.
i’m nothing special, because you are more.

with a smile for everyone.
and always something left to say.
i have nothing before i’m done.
and i admire you in that way.
but your words are simple.
with no mystery left for our ears.
maybe i’ve taken it all.
and braided it into my hair.
and i wonder why you are more.

i am the dream to your thought.
the ocean to your water.
the life to your being.
the sunrise to your blue skies.
the vision to your seeing.
the green in your stable grey eyes.
and i wonder why you are more.

i see you with your pretty on.
but you are not as pretty as me.
i see you with nothing on.
and watch you fall to your knees.
only for the love of someone.
who doesn’t believe.

they’ve taken it all from us.
and i wonder why you are more.
we don’t believe in what we do.
and i wonder why you are more.
when it all comes down to whys.
and you have nothing left–

you’re a little too ordinary.
and it bugs me.

maybe a picture.
describes a thousand things said.
and my mind is racing.
maybe it’s all in my head.
i’m tired of numbing.
my mind’s been alone.
now all i know is what i see.
my eyes for you have grown.
there’s beauty there.
that i’ve never known.
something to talk to.
something to want as my own.
and you can take this for what it is.
a song of a girl.
too ashamed to take you.
too determined to shake you.
and too reserved to make you.
mine.

what was said before.
only means more now.
your eyes tear through me.
your arms could teach me how.
to stop believing. that in my state.
you’ll take me farther down.

i don’t know you like i should.
you just sound like heaven would.
so lets stand beneath the rain.
we’ll let the water drown the pain.
and sell the world tomorrow.
in painful smiles and sorrow.
you’ll be mine.
i’ll be yours.

good.
this picture says it all.
and i believe you could treat me.
like my mother said you would.