thoughts as they come
I fucking asked him to Prom.
Still can't believe I did that.
Didn't work out, of course.
But at least I can say I tried.
My pajama pants are velvety.
There is still paint on my arm.
Set painting was fun.
Hanging out with Lindsey Rader.
Painting stuff for Jake and Pat, for Maurice's cart invention...thing.
Rolling people in a barrel.
Tried Red Bull for the first time.
Oh man that stuff is disgusting.
I am going crazy again.
He doesn't care.
He probably never did.
And I keep kidding myself,
But I can't let him go.
I only want to talk to him again,
But when I think about it,
I realize...
I have nothing to say to him anymore.
I feel like I am caught in limbo.
Between someone I felt like I loved,
And someone I only want to be closer to.
One doesn't care and the other doesn't understand.
I haven't the slightest clue what I'm doing.
Or how the hell I managed to connect them at all.
That has nothing to do with anything.
I have to start writing my term paper this weekend.
I will do that tomorrow.
I missed Kat's opera tonight.
I'll miss the youth group meeting tomorrow.
Might go to rehearsal though.
But I think I've made things awkward again.
I never seem to learn.
My dad is turning out all the lights.
There's the desk lamp next to me.
This is one of those nights
Where I would sit up writing
Anything that comes to mind
Until my wrist cramped,
And I could no longer keep my eyes open.
And still I would not want to sleep,
For fear of what I would leave unwritten.
But I don't feel like writing tonight.
Too much effort?
I just type it all here.
Does anyone remember my old room?
The paper on the walls
The pictures, the quotes, song lyrics, messages from friends.
I miss that room.
I remember nights sitting up until 3 in the morning
Staring at the walls
Reading everything that had been written
Finding new things to write
Flipping through magazines to find new pictures
Or just sitting, staring.
Wondering if I'd truly lost my mind.
I can't do that now.
Can't write on the walls.
There's the paper on my door, but it's not the same.
Sometimes I want to tear it down.
For fear of what I would leave unwritten...
I get it now.
All the times I was so tired,
But the thought of putting away my notebook,
Turning out the light,
Closing my eyes...
And I couldn't figure out what I was so afraid of.
I get it now.
And now I wonder how long I will sit at this computer.
Typing line after line
Afraid to fall asleep.
Because of what might remain unwritten.
How is it possible
To feel as though you can no longer stand a person
And yet hate the fact that you've lost them?
I love this picture
The chair in the window
If the lighting had been different
You'd have been able to see the Canyon
Over the porch railing.
I like how it came out though,
All in silhouette.
I feel like it means something more.
I...never ate dinner.
I had so much...junk at set painting though.
That's probably why.
I don't eat healthy.
The desk lamp is green.
It used to be on top of my dresser
In my old room, across from the bed.
I wrote a poem about it once.
Though it started with the carnation.
I wrote a lot of poems last year.
Most of them were crap, but I think I got a few good ones out of it.
Sort of slowed down since then.
There's only been a few.
My dad is talking on the phone.
It's distracting.
I like this sweater.
It's really comfortable.
I don't usually wear it that often, though.
It attracts lint like you wouldn't believe.
Bit of a pain.
I wore it to set painting today.
I wonder wonder wonder.
I wish I could read people's minds.
That wouldn't be very ethical though.
I wouldn't want anyone reading my mind.
There are times, though
When I would give almost anything to know what someone is thinking.
Well...not really.
But wondering about it drives me insane.
I love Post Secret.
I am going to send one in some time.
Maybe more than one.
Because I can't decide what to put on it.
There's a couple I'm thinking of.
I like how every now and then,
Reading through Post Secret,
I come across a happy one.
And it makes me smile.
Wow...I'm hungry.
I don't feel like eating.
Early in the morning, or late at night, I just have no appetite.
I didn't mean to make that rhyme.
I don't like that it rhymes.
Too late.
Shit that's going to bug me now...
Okay, okay.
I'm done.
I'm going to go read now.
I'm rereading the Redwall series again.
I love those books.
Good night.
Hello?
.....Who read through all of that? More importantly, who got any of that?
Still can't believe I did that.
Didn't work out, of course.
But at least I can say I tried.
My pajama pants are velvety.
There is still paint on my arm.
Set painting was fun.
Hanging out with Lindsey Rader.
Painting stuff for Jake and Pat, for Maurice's cart invention...thing.
Rolling people in a barrel.
Tried Red Bull for the first time.
Oh man that stuff is disgusting.
I am going crazy again.
He doesn't care.
He probably never did.
And I keep kidding myself,
But I can't let him go.
I only want to talk to him again,
But when I think about it,
I realize...
I have nothing to say to him anymore.
I feel like I am caught in limbo.
Between someone I felt like I loved,
And someone I only want to be closer to.
One doesn't care and the other doesn't understand.
I haven't the slightest clue what I'm doing.
Or how the hell I managed to connect them at all.
That has nothing to do with anything.
I have to start writing my term paper this weekend.
I will do that tomorrow.
I missed Kat's opera tonight.
I'll miss the youth group meeting tomorrow.
Might go to rehearsal though.
But I think I've made things awkward again.
I never seem to learn.
My dad is turning out all the lights.
There's the desk lamp next to me.
This is one of those nights
Where I would sit up writing
Anything that comes to mind
Until my wrist cramped,
And I could no longer keep my eyes open.
And still I would not want to sleep,
For fear of what I would leave unwritten.
But I don't feel like writing tonight.
Too much effort?
I just type it all here.
Does anyone remember my old room?
The paper on the walls
The pictures, the quotes, song lyrics, messages from friends.
I miss that room.
I remember nights sitting up until 3 in the morning
Staring at the walls
Reading everything that had been written
Finding new things to write
Flipping through magazines to find new pictures
Or just sitting, staring.
Wondering if I'd truly lost my mind.
I can't do that now.
Can't write on the walls.
There's the paper on my door, but it's not the same.
Sometimes I want to tear it down.
For fear of what I would leave unwritten...
I get it now.
All the times I was so tired,
But the thought of putting away my notebook,
Turning out the light,
Closing my eyes...
And I couldn't figure out what I was so afraid of.
I get it now.
And now I wonder how long I will sit at this computer.
Typing line after line
Afraid to fall asleep.
Because of what might remain unwritten.
How is it possible
To feel as though you can no longer stand a person
And yet hate the fact that you've lost them?
I love this picture
The chair in the window
If the lighting had been different
You'd have been able to see the Canyon
Over the porch railing.
I like how it came out though,
All in silhouette.
I feel like it means something more.
I...never ate dinner.
I had so much...junk at set painting though.
That's probably why.
I don't eat healthy.
The desk lamp is green.
It used to be on top of my dresser
In my old room, across from the bed.
I wrote a poem about it once.
Though it started with the carnation.
I wrote a lot of poems last year.
Most of them were crap, but I think I got a few good ones out of it.
Sort of slowed down since then.
There's only been a few.
My dad is talking on the phone.
It's distracting.
I like this sweater.
It's really comfortable.
I don't usually wear it that often, though.
It attracts lint like you wouldn't believe.
Bit of a pain.
I wore it to set painting today.
I wonder wonder wonder.
I wish I could read people's minds.
That wouldn't be very ethical though.
I wouldn't want anyone reading my mind.
There are times, though
When I would give almost anything to know what someone is thinking.
Well...not really.
But wondering about it drives me insane.
I love Post Secret.
I am going to send one in some time.
Maybe more than one.
Because I can't decide what to put on it.
There's a couple I'm thinking of.
I like how every now and then,
Reading through Post Secret,
I come across a happy one.
And it makes me smile.
Wow...I'm hungry.
I don't feel like eating.
Early in the morning, or late at night, I just have no appetite.
I didn't mean to make that rhyme.
I don't like that it rhymes.
Too late.
Shit that's going to bug me now...
Okay, okay.
I'm done.
I'm going to go read now.
I'm rereading the Redwall series again.
I love those books.
Good night.
Hello?
.....Who read through all of that? More importantly, who got any of that?