that’s it.

“you are absolutely amazing. seriously, i can’t handle myself around you.”

am i mad? no i’m not mad. breakups happen everyday. to everyone. it’s not that hard to hurt me. you just said that you weren’t that stupid. apparently, keeping your pride this time, wasn’t a priority.

and if you’re happy, i’m glad. run into this world with open arms and shout, “i’m free!” at the top of your lungs. run into the arms of past loves, who understand you, no matter what. run into people who you can explain just how right you were. because you are right, always. aren’t you?

i’m so glad to know that on our first problem you would bail. and i’m happy to hear that if i gave you an out, you would take it. i might be able to breathe now, knowing that i am no longer standing in the way of your dreams, because “i liked you too much.”

and you told me that you would work it out til the end. you would hate yourself if you hit a bump and fell over. but what happened? we didn’t even fight. a text message from me. a text message from her. a conversation with your dad. and then one with me. and you don’t want to make it work. do you still think i’m retarded? it sounds like a loaded question. are you fucking kidding me?

do you know what i think of love? love is a deep feeling for someone. something that people don’t understand. something that feels right. one part you, the other part, the other person. you don’t fall in love. you learn to love. and when you do, love will be it. and love will take you down, and bring you back up again. love changes. because if love is today, what it is tomorrow, no one would stay in love. love is life. and if you can’t trust enough to feel, how can you say you’re human at all?

so that’s it.

you broke my heart, because you are the one with no disclosure. you lied, because you are too afraid. you can’t make decisions, so you made me make them for you.

“so i gave it a thought, and i was thinking, that’s it.”
“what’s it?”
“that’s it.”
“did you just break up with me?”
“yup.”

and as for love. you’re right, i don’t love you. i loved the man i thought you were. and that man broke my heart. that’s all.

and that is it.

bff’s.

the sun rises to meet me in the early morning.
and love travels for miles to fix my silent mourning.
stay away from the warning that is your bitter heart.
stay away from the turning that tears you apart.
and the choice that made you hopeful
kills the light that you once had.
and the silence that makes you impatient
will keep you awake in bed.
i’m not catching what you’re throwing down.
i’m not sure your going to catch this, if we drown.
but here’s to thinking in rhyme.
and cheers to not believing we’re fine.
but there’s some thinking that with time
everything will be alright.

sing out.

why not say you’re sorry.
to be or not to be.
there is no question.
i might be swallowed in the sea.
and the one that said, i’m fine.
and those who’ve lost their mind.
i’m right here with you.
walking this thin red line.
am i losing myself here.
or am i gaining something more?
i had nothing much to sell.
but am i selling it short?
going for broke.
going for broke?
is that what you do.
give it everything you have.
because you will come out with something more?
and you can’t say you’re sorry.
you say it too much.
and you are always wrong.
and you are always right.
and i am everything you need.
but now it’s out of sight.
if you wanna sing out.
sing out.
if you wanna be free.
love me.
and today’s been a career day,
with futures made and fortunes lost.
am i the last real thing you’ve got?
you’re cursed by all ambitious thoughts.

in with the outro and out with the old.
there’s nothing to lose when there’s nothing to hold.

we’ll be together in the morning.

age to age.

when you’re twelve, this seems like it. the friends you have, the love you have, the way you live, and the way your parents live. the friends you still have since that age, are more of big ball of memories you can pick at, in order to remember the past.

when you’re fifteen, you might be told that you don’t need to use the oxford comma anymore, and to this day use it half the time, and get mad that you have no consistency in your writing. and even more mad that you are a part of the dumbing down of society.

when you’re nineteen you are always right. always right. because afterall, you’ve seen the world, haven’t you? and afterall, you’ve always been told that you’re wise beyond your years, and so much more mature than your peers. and considering your peers are all a year older, that’s kind of a big deal. and so are you.

when you turn twenty-one, you get so drunk, you show up late to work, and spend you’re birthday on facebook. so you get fired. in a nice way. and then you realize you need something else anyway. get kicked out of your house for a day, and grow so much debt, you contemplate taking yourself out. but you don’t, because you’ve learned to like living in filth. and you’re pretty good at it.

when you’re my age, you can’t really write a book, and have the entire thing be one big, “i wish i knew then, what i knew now,” piece of literary crap. but i would love to. and i would love to know that the best friends i’ve always had, would be here now.

but everyone leaves. don’t they?

talking to my cat.

i don’t know what to write about. it’s probably writers block. i mean, i don’t have much to say either. i do a lot of that body language stuff these days. i do a lot of nothing.

i’d write you about my boyfriend. but i can’t, because he reads this sometimes. it’s not my fault. he likes to read. what can i say, he’s intelligent. he can read.

he writes full texts, with correct punctuation, and the proper amount of ellipses… he actually spells better than i. i mean, i couldn’t figure how to spell consecutive and predicament today. in fact, i just spell checked those. and i never spell barbecue right. i actually want all those words to have “q’s” in them. consequetive. prediquement. barbeque. T9 doesn’t figure out that shit.

last night i watched a lot of jessica simpson music videos. sometimes her directors make her do the corniest shit. i get embarrassed for her… and i need to state a correction, i at one time said jessica was a leo. she’s actually a cancer. yeah. CANCER. go figure. marries young. runs away. in love with love.

ps. i like cancers. i think i give them a bad rep. i apologize.

i also should apologize to all the virgo’s, pisces, and gemini’s of the world. and my sister would like me to lay off the fact that she’s a scorpio.

this girl asked me to tell her what it meant to be a gemini. and i realized that i focus so much on the negative of people when i lump them into astrological boxes.

aries: impatient and bossy
taurus: stubborn and lazy
gemini: annoying, conniving and superficial
cancer: hypersensitive and clingy
leo: self-centered, vain
virgo: anal retentive and interfering
libra: indecisive and unreliable
scorpio: suspicious and jealous
sagittarius: unemotional and selfish
capricorn: boring and inhibited
aquarius: weird and aloof
pisces: serial killers or to be nice, escapists.

but yeah, i’m sure there’s good things to everyone. i just like flaws. so i can fix them, and make the world better. who am i kidding, i can’t even fix myself.

so yeah, i have to wake up early. goodnight neverland.

down.

and i wonder how she could love him. beautiful. intriguing. beguiling. she flutters her eyelashes like a butterfly bats his wings. and she sings. and the world stops. and we all stand in awe.
till she falls
down.

do you wonder how she could love him? so straight and so forward. and he is backwards. falling through hell. failing as well. flaring his nostrils. like a man who can’t tell. what he holds in his hands. and he throws it all away. and throws her away. and still she stays.
still she stays. there.

so we all sit and watch the crescendo. like the final say will whisk her away and she will stray to the dead that call her name. “we’ve all been there. we’ve all been there.” the chanting, the screaming, the sinners called to hell. i wish them well. but she doesn’t deserve what she wants. and we wonder why she loves him.

three in your bed. when two is a crowd. by yourself you’ve been called- to so much more. and we’ll wonder why you’re crying on the floor. but you can’t help the one who doesn’t want it. you can’t free the mind that encages itself. and you can’t take her for anything else. than what she is.
exactly what he has made her.

goodbye and good luck.



she is all alone now.

two and a star.

jupiter.
her white dress, and your black tie, tied together like you belong. and she was it for you. no, then she was. then she was. then it was her. and now this one. and it’s the one. of many. and you had my heart wrapped around your finger. like an insecure man with too many loves. you lucky bastard. not enough time. let it go. you told me that time heals nothing. i told you time was important. watch your time. before it’s going, going gone.

the sun.
three years wasted, for she was the one for you when she was a little girl. her blonde hair, and green eyes. her big nose. the one that makes me jealous. and i did not know you loved her. because it did not matter, i was better. and i loved you. but i could not speak. mercury must have been alone, and you were still ruled by the sun. sail on quick.

mercury.
the virgin was until it came to her. you were ruled by her, after all. so worried of making mistakes. so worried about poor timing. and maybe timing’s not that important. maybe we were all wrong. and we gave in, to be disapointed. to be ashamed. to be left alone. one flew on. the other stayed here. i stole your heart, but you see, you stole my innocence. good for you.

the sun and mercury.
so many days intertwine. once you were intelligent. once you were simple. once you were. once you are. once you shone brightly. other’s you were dull. i loved them all. like they were there, for me right here, alone. and i waited here for a sign. something to hold on to. and you stare at the ocean, while your friends all drown. and i love you.

jupiter.
you’re smoking filter now. that’s all i will remember. like it mattered that you were. you were neither here nor there. and now gone. so quick. you don’t remember. you don’t recall. you silly, sick bitch. and maybe i should be angry. maybe i’ll just laugh– worse feel bad for you. maybe i’ll take this last chance to burn a bridge or two.

i will fly you to the moon and back…

if you’ll be my baby.

i think people like to blog because it makes them feel like carrie bradshaw… well, obviously, that’s why i blog.

so i’m sitting here, eating cottage cheese. because it’s one of the few “cheeses” that i actually like, and i’m remembering that i have always loved cottage cheese. but i would pretend, as a young girl, that i hated it, so that at church camp, and school lunch, no one would rip on me.

cafeteria rule number 2: don’t eat cottage cheese. preceded only by rule number 1: don’t eat banana’s. rule number 3 was something more like blot the grease off your pizza before you scarf it down in front of your peers. rule number 4: don’t eat alone.

it’s been a long time since high school. but it feels like two days ago. i wonder if that’s because i haven’t accomplished anything? or if it’s because my life now, feels so disconnected from those years.

i think that i believe in the latter. there was a me that i can rewatch over and over again, and there is a me now.

my hair was around the same length, but my face was fatter. my body weighed the same, but i looked pudgier. but more importantly, i was this girl locked inside another person that was nothing like me. quiet, secure, sentimental, mature, and simple. i am actually none of those things.

this blog is more of a portrait of who i am than anything. and i didn’t even start it till three years after high school was already over.

my boyfriend likes to remind me of how old i am. it’s not my fault that the only good guy for light years is twenty-one. he’s an aquarius. that means he likes me just the way i am. and i like him because he doesn’t have gray hair yet. and because he smells good. and even though we sit and talk about everything, there is still enough mystery that i’m not bored. never bored. except when he’s playing fantasy sports. then he sucks. i like feeling like i’m fourteen, since i never really got to. that is all.

i’ve come a long way baby. and i’m still right here.

bury it.

perfection that was.
is gone so quickly.
fading fast like the cold summer.
the dark. the light.
and i ask of him, so much.
and he smiles at me.
and i can’t see.
my blind friend.
my timeless end.
the past is a dream,
but kills your now.
and i’m sorry for putting that on you.
sorry for allowing him to be you.
before you.
and i wish there was a mirror.
that told you the truth.
insecurities brought on by
your tumultuous youth.
but i won’t let you bury this.
i won’t let you smother it.
i’m no longer that girl.
that treats herself like shit.
so why must i?
why can’t i take this and run with it.
be happy. be happy. smile.
take it to the million dollar mile.
make love on skyscrapers and die
with nothing left to tell but why
you made out with so much more
than you could have thought.
there is nothing wrong.
nothing wrong but me.
one step forward.
smile.
and lets be okay.
and so we will.

ig nor an ce.

i just separated that word, and it actually looks really cool. i’m retarded.

i just made the worst coffee ever today. you might have guessed that i’ve never made coffee before, if you had tried this. i’m drinking it because currently there are no more coffee beans in the house, and i am hungover.

i wish hung over was one word.

i really think jennifer connelly is beautiful. anyone who disagrees is crazy. the rocketeer, inventing the abbots, requiem for a dream, a beautiful mind. and she’s an amazing actress. she was actually my first pseudo-lesbian crush, the rocketeer used to be my favorite movie, i’d get excited when she came out in the white dress. 20 years later, still beautiful. it’s disgusting really. hello pretty.

muse “time is running out,” never ceases to amaze me.

i have nothing else to say. except i have this boyfriend now. he’s cute.