Call It Impulsive, Call It Convulsive, Call It Insane
I was going through entries on my old livejournal, and I found a few pieces that I liked. So, I present to you, the aged works of Stacy (lj-cut for your non/viewing pleasure of course).
Tiptoeing
Tiptoeing
Everyone is tiptoeing
Everyone must tiptoe
Don’t make a sound
Don’t knock anything over
Don’t let them know you’re there
Don’t let them know what you’re doing
Don’t let them know what you’re thinking
Just tiptoe
Walk on eggshells
This minefield of eggshells
When will one go off?
Tick
tiptoe
TIck
tiptoe
TICk
tiptoe
TICK
tiptoe
…BOOM
Unless you don’t mind it
Unless you’re not scared
Unless you can stand tall and fly straight
Then you can walk, stride, stamp, dance
When it doesn’t matter
When you don’t mind being challenged
When you don’t mind challenging
When you don’t mind the lectures
When you don’t mind the yelling
Then walk
Other wise, tip toe
Tiptoe on eggshells
tiptoeing
Tick
tiptoeing
Crack
Don’t make a sound
…unless it’s the ones they want to hear.
Phantom Dream
Last night I had a dream. I dreamt that I fell in love. I feel in love with an actor who played the Phantom of the Opera. It wasn't a spontaneous feeling that sprung from simply seeing him on the stage, however- I knew this man, from another life (whether this other life was literal or metaphorical, I cannot say). I saw him again, the first time in my current life, at restaurant. I remembered him, and he remembered me, and we spoke of things. What things exactly I can't remember, but they were of great importance: things about our past life together, him, and me, what he did, what I did, what he'd done, and what I'd done. Then I had to leave, but before I did, I leaned in to kiss him on the forehead and he leaned back to avoid me. I managed to kiss him anyway, and after I drew back, he looked at me with a different look on his face. A look that told me he had just discovered something, just had an epifany. Apparently, my kiss had given him the ability to love, and he decided that he loved me and I knew I loved him back. But I had to leave- I was going to see a production of The Phantom of the Opera, and apparently he was starring in it as the Phantom himself. My friend was a part of this production group as well- she didn't have a very big part (no lines at all I believe) but she was in it none the less. She began to cry offstage before the show started for some superficial reason, but he decided it was because she was lonely. He knew what it was like to be lonely, and he decided that now that he could love, he had to love her in order to help her. He didn't want to, but he felt he had to. So I spent the rest of the time watching the man I loved loving someone else.
Stacy, the poem
She moves in gentle bends
Smiling, joking, laughing, hello how are you?
Strong, funny, smart, happy
Who would have guessed, she’s dying?
She doesn’t live-
She exists; Reading not the lines, but in between
Tangled up in vines of black and white
When her only search was one for color
She’s got a staircase to the stars
Crying tears of fire, she climbs
Finding solace in these glittering stones
Who listen and refrain from judgment
An anxious look in her darkening eyes
Steadily gazing through shadows
It is a crime to view beauty in an unsightly world
But she will not apologize
Enough
I hate it.
I miss you.
I know not.
I'm ready to be through.
I did all that I could.
I love you.
I don't care.
I'm strong now.
It's time to play things fair.
Just stop and don't look back.
...I'm not gonna crack
I'm just me, but that is okay-
I AM ENOUGH
Life Analysis
If life is truly meaningless, why do people care?
Do I care? Should I care? Why?
If you could live forever, would you?
I need a little help down here.
I'm confused as to what all of this is for.
Everyone is so concerned with what is going on with them- how to sustain their self-image, how to get bigger and better and more more more.
They are one person out of infinite peoples. Do you really matter?
I always imagined death would be a welcome friend at death of old age- but what if my life is cut short, and gifts I still have to give are cut short? What if I don't get to love and help as I've so intended?
If I died, would you come to my funeral?
I wish I could be there. I wish I could know what others really think about me, but don't want to say- either because they're scared, or because it doesn't really matter, or because they can always do it later. Would you regret how we got along? Would you wish we made more of what we had, or that you hadn't wasted your time with me?
People are so fickle when it comes to that- you have the time in world to tell someone how you feel and what you think of them...well, until it's gone anyway. No one takes the time to wear birds in their hair, to swim with dolphins; To travel to the stars while you lay in the grass with the one you can't have, to smell velvet perfumes, to sing at the top of your lungs, to get black eyes for what you believe in; to stay loyal to what you have, to fly, to love to laugh and to live...and to be naive and innocent.
I want to save the world.
I wonder, was anyone ever like that?
Goblin Symphony
This world has turned confused and lost and tired and scared,
Now I'm always feeling so overwhelmed and unprepared.
I'm not sure when it happened, nor do I know just why,
But I am beginning to dread everyday that's passing by.
I'm so scared of the future, or what I'll miss or what I'll lose,
It's hard to keep from feeling so alone and so confused.
Searching everywhere to find the 'me' that I forgot,
Because I'm tired of trying to be something that I'm not.
I'd bend over backwards just to meet you half way,
No price to save what is ours is too high to pay.
I'm using all my strength to try and break down these bars-
Lying in the gutter, but still gazing at the stars.
Armageddon, part 1
It as if we have reached the end of existence as we know it...it's the end of the world- well, my world anyway.
Everything is tainted orange by the color of sunset smoke in the air, and the streets seem to be stained by the sent of ashes and the sight of charcoal and the sounds of screams and the feel of tears and the taste of essence destroyed.
I'm not ready to lose my house again.
I'm scared for everyone. I'm distant from all, including myself, and there is a box in the middle of my room with paintings and pictures and cards and jewelry and money, ready to be reached for at any given moment if the time comes to run.
Apparently, it isn't just I who can prevent forest fires.
I smell it everywhere, even in the security of my own home, and I feel as if I'm covered in ashes, and dirty, and it's my fault and I'm a fire consuming consuming consuming everyone and everything. You can try and stop me, but I'll just keep coming and taking and destroying and I can't be reckoned with and I won't cease not for you, not for anyone, not even for God or rain, and God please make it rain. God let water fall in vast amounts from your burning sky, let buckets drench these lands. Save us God, save us.
I'm sorry I wasn't better. I'm sorry I didn't love as much as I could have. I am sorry I didn't help as much as I could have- but I will God, I will. Please, just make it rain, big full thick drops from the constant sunset sky and drown us in salvation.
I'm praying for the people, and the rain, and the world- my world
Armageddon, part 2
The sky has dissapeared. It has been replaced by thickness, darkness, heat. Scent is gone- now all is burning. Ash in my eyes, ash in my throat, ash in my nose, ash in my hair, ash in my skin, ash in my blood. I want to turn into that smoke and float into the sky, and fly run cry dance scream. People are losing thier homes, thier hope, thier faith, their love. Still we go on as if everything is normal, as if ignoring it will make it go away. Still we praise it, as if school closing is worth the destruction of everything. Still we hurt and steal and lie and think that it is okay. Still we turn to ash.
...and where are you? Why aren't you here with me? I need you. I need you to drench me in expressions of love, so that there will be no room on more room on my skin, and the soot will have to find someplace else to burn. I want to get enveloped in your arms instead of the smoke, and I want you here to protect me so that we won't worry anymore or be scared anymore or fall asleep not wanting to wake up. I want to put my head to your chest and push inside of you where I'll be safe and no one can get to me. I want to hide and I want you to save me...so where are you? Why aren't you here with me? I need you.
Faith
Faith. I must have more faith. It's difficult, seeing as I don't have much reason to, but that means I simply need have faith in faith.
I need to have faith that everything will be alright.
I need to have faith that everything happens for a reason.
I need to have faith that I will be okay.
I need to have faith in others, and I need to have faith in me.
I take comfort in the fact that, no matter what happens, I'll always smile again.
Tiptoeing
Tiptoeing
Everyone is tiptoeing
Everyone must tiptoe
Don’t make a sound
Don’t knock anything over
Don’t let them know you’re there
Don’t let them know what you’re doing
Don’t let them know what you’re thinking
Just tiptoe
Walk on eggshells
This minefield of eggshells
When will one go off?
Tick
tiptoe
TIck
tiptoe
TICk
tiptoe
TICK
tiptoe
…BOOM
Unless you don’t mind it
Unless you’re not scared
Unless you can stand tall and fly straight
Then you can walk, stride, stamp, dance
When it doesn’t matter
When you don’t mind being challenged
When you don’t mind challenging
When you don’t mind the lectures
When you don’t mind the yelling
Then walk
Other wise, tip toe
Tiptoe on eggshells
tiptoeing
Tick
tiptoeing
Crack
Don’t make a sound
…unless it’s the ones they want to hear.
Phantom Dream
Last night I had a dream. I dreamt that I fell in love. I feel in love with an actor who played the Phantom of the Opera. It wasn't a spontaneous feeling that sprung from simply seeing him on the stage, however- I knew this man, from another life (whether this other life was literal or metaphorical, I cannot say). I saw him again, the first time in my current life, at restaurant. I remembered him, and he remembered me, and we spoke of things. What things exactly I can't remember, but they were of great importance: things about our past life together, him, and me, what he did, what I did, what he'd done, and what I'd done. Then I had to leave, but before I did, I leaned in to kiss him on the forehead and he leaned back to avoid me. I managed to kiss him anyway, and after I drew back, he looked at me with a different look on his face. A look that told me he had just discovered something, just had an epifany. Apparently, my kiss had given him the ability to love, and he decided that he loved me and I knew I loved him back. But I had to leave- I was going to see a production of The Phantom of the Opera, and apparently he was starring in it as the Phantom himself. My friend was a part of this production group as well- she didn't have a very big part (no lines at all I believe) but she was in it none the less. She began to cry offstage before the show started for some superficial reason, but he decided it was because she was lonely. He knew what it was like to be lonely, and he decided that now that he could love, he had to love her in order to help her. He didn't want to, but he felt he had to. So I spent the rest of the time watching the man I loved loving someone else.
Stacy, the poem
She moves in gentle bends
Smiling, joking, laughing, hello how are you?
Strong, funny, smart, happy
Who would have guessed, she’s dying?
She doesn’t live-
She exists; Reading not the lines, but in between
Tangled up in vines of black and white
When her only search was one for color
She’s got a staircase to the stars
Crying tears of fire, she climbs
Finding solace in these glittering stones
Who listen and refrain from judgment
An anxious look in her darkening eyes
Steadily gazing through shadows
It is a crime to view beauty in an unsightly world
But she will not apologize
Enough
I hate it.
I miss you.
I know not.
I'm ready to be through.
I did all that I could.
I love you.
I don't care.
I'm strong now.
It's time to play things fair.
Just stop and don't look back.
...I'm not gonna crack
I'm just me, but that is okay-
I AM ENOUGH
Life Analysis
If life is truly meaningless, why do people care?
Do I care? Should I care? Why?
If you could live forever, would you?
I need a little help down here.
I'm confused as to what all of this is for.
Everyone is so concerned with what is going on with them- how to sustain their self-image, how to get bigger and better and more more more.
They are one person out of infinite peoples. Do you really matter?
I always imagined death would be a welcome friend at death of old age- but what if my life is cut short, and gifts I still have to give are cut short? What if I don't get to love and help as I've so intended?
If I died, would you come to my funeral?
I wish I could be there. I wish I could know what others really think about me, but don't want to say- either because they're scared, or because it doesn't really matter, or because they can always do it later. Would you regret how we got along? Would you wish we made more of what we had, or that you hadn't wasted your time with me?
People are so fickle when it comes to that- you have the time in world to tell someone how you feel and what you think of them...well, until it's gone anyway. No one takes the time to wear birds in their hair, to swim with dolphins; To travel to the stars while you lay in the grass with the one you can't have, to smell velvet perfumes, to sing at the top of your lungs, to get black eyes for what you believe in; to stay loyal to what you have, to fly, to love to laugh and to live...and to be naive and innocent.
I want to save the world.
I wonder, was anyone ever like that?
Goblin Symphony
This world has turned confused and lost and tired and scared,
Now I'm always feeling so overwhelmed and unprepared.
I'm not sure when it happened, nor do I know just why,
But I am beginning to dread everyday that's passing by.
I'm so scared of the future, or what I'll miss or what I'll lose,
It's hard to keep from feeling so alone and so confused.
Searching everywhere to find the 'me' that I forgot,
Because I'm tired of trying to be something that I'm not.
I'd bend over backwards just to meet you half way,
No price to save what is ours is too high to pay.
I'm using all my strength to try and break down these bars-
Lying in the gutter, but still gazing at the stars.
Armageddon, part 1
It as if we have reached the end of existence as we know it...it's the end of the world- well, my world anyway.
Everything is tainted orange by the color of sunset smoke in the air, and the streets seem to be stained by the sent of ashes and the sight of charcoal and the sounds of screams and the feel of tears and the taste of essence destroyed.
I'm not ready to lose my house again.
I'm scared for everyone. I'm distant from all, including myself, and there is a box in the middle of my room with paintings and pictures and cards and jewelry and money, ready to be reached for at any given moment if the time comes to run.
Apparently, it isn't just I who can prevent forest fires.
I smell it everywhere, even in the security of my own home, and I feel as if I'm covered in ashes, and dirty, and it's my fault and I'm a fire consuming consuming consuming everyone and everything. You can try and stop me, but I'll just keep coming and taking and destroying and I can't be reckoned with and I won't cease not for you, not for anyone, not even for God or rain, and God please make it rain. God let water fall in vast amounts from your burning sky, let buckets drench these lands. Save us God, save us.
I'm sorry I wasn't better. I'm sorry I didn't love as much as I could have. I am sorry I didn't help as much as I could have- but I will God, I will. Please, just make it rain, big full thick drops from the constant sunset sky and drown us in salvation.
I'm praying for the people, and the rain, and the world- my world
Armageddon, part 2
The sky has dissapeared. It has been replaced by thickness, darkness, heat. Scent is gone- now all is burning. Ash in my eyes, ash in my throat, ash in my nose, ash in my hair, ash in my skin, ash in my blood. I want to turn into that smoke and float into the sky, and fly run cry dance scream. People are losing thier homes, thier hope, thier faith, their love. Still we go on as if everything is normal, as if ignoring it will make it go away. Still we praise it, as if school closing is worth the destruction of everything. Still we hurt and steal and lie and think that it is okay. Still we turn to ash.
...and where are you? Why aren't you here with me? I need you. I need you to drench me in expressions of love, so that there will be no room on more room on my skin, and the soot will have to find someplace else to burn. I want to get enveloped in your arms instead of the smoke, and I want you here to protect me so that we won't worry anymore or be scared anymore or fall asleep not wanting to wake up. I want to put my head to your chest and push inside of you where I'll be safe and no one can get to me. I want to hide and I want you to save me...so where are you? Why aren't you here with me? I need you.
Faith
Faith. I must have more faith. It's difficult, seeing as I don't have much reason to, but that means I simply need have faith in faith.
I need to have faith that everything will be alright.
I need to have faith that everything happens for a reason.
I need to have faith that I will be okay.
I need to have faith in others, and I need to have faith in me.
I take comfort in the fact that, no matter what happens, I'll always smile again.