Death and its many faces

When he was hospitalized , I didn't expect to feel anything. I didn't expect to cry, to care, to understand so much in the little time i had had with him before the episode. As cruel as it seems, a small part of me wanted him to die. He ripped away at me, every fiber of my being was being destroyed as he spoke, every word like acid burning away at the world i had created for myself. I wanted him to die. But he had become apart of me, he was apart of my world now, as much as anything and everything else was. I needed him. I needed him alive.
"Jack?"
He had been hospitalized for trying to kill himself. This was eighth time I had stood in this room, next to this window, watching those patients on the lawn walk aimlessly follwed by some guardian in white. This was the eighth time i had felt nothing, but had driven myself down here to see him, strapped to the bed, three long canvas strips, restraining him from the one thing he wanted most.
"Yes, Oliver?"
"Why can't I? I mean why do I keep failing to accomplish something so simple?"
Oliver Marcus Henry was one of my closest friends, he told me everything, every secret. He never failed to remind me that he loved me, that he didn't care if I couldn't love him back. He was just happy knowing that I knew. To him, killing himself was supposed to be simple. But each time he tried he failed. The rope not tight enough, not strong enough, the pills not potent enough, the rocks not enough to keep him down in the river that ran by our school. Maybe he already knew those things when he had tried to commit the sinful act. Maybe was hesitating. He wouldn't tell the doctors, much less me.
"I don't know, Oliver. I don't know."
And then he was silent. Just quietly lying in bed, watching the ceiling. Something he did, when no one had the answers, something he clung to, the wandering thoughts taking over, consuming him.
"They won't let me out, Jack. Because they know, they know I'll try again."
"yes, Oliver. I know."
"Don't talk to me, like I'm one of your sick friends, Jack. You know the only reason I'm here is I messed up."
I did know that. I knew he was smart and healthy and sane. He just couldn't understand life, and he believed it held nothing for him as he held nothing for it.
"I love you."
"I know."
I visit Oliver every now and then. The conversations don't vary much. He talks, I listen. He's losing it, the Oliver I knew is disappearing and quite possibly, I'm disappearing with him.
"We all die, Jack."
"I know."
"There's nothing wrong with running in the opposite direction."
"Of course not."
"I love you."
Someday I will respond.
Someday I'll tell him I care.
Someday we'll both be happy.
Someday he'll succeed.

You got it bad, I can tell

So yes. I took a long vacation from blogging, basically from the internet for the most part.

Shit has happened. Or should I even refer to it as such.

Bad things. Peopel got in fights, physically, mentally, lost of stress. A bill that's kind of important didn't get paid. A bill that didn't get passed is I suppose giving the canidates an oppurtunity to impress us. All in all, I'm disappointed. In my family, in my government, in myself. No idea how anything is going to be resolved. But I do know that it will take small steps.

Step one: Finish my assignments.

Step two: to be decided.

Inhale, exhale. Repeat.

Reunited and it's feels so good

I am sooo happy to be back. Oregon was nice, it had wonderful gorgeous people and people who were like "I'm to pause right in front of the camera." Like fuck you people.... But anyways, we stayed at this house (friend's mother's) and it smelled of weed. Like you could get high of just eating in that house. But everyone's like nooo, it's not weed. Pfft. Please, I know the difference between weed and cigarette smoke. One I like (cigarette) the other I despise. I went to the Dollar Tree for the first time and it was huge. The one in medford, Oregon, literally has everything. It's scary.
"Do you have-"
"Yes"
"But I didn't even-"
"We have that too."

The Ross was jean wonderland. I was so happy. I think everything is better in Medford, Orgeon. Though it's very quiet and very....quaint. I was kind of disturbed by the definite lack of other races. And if Medford has better stuff, then Ashland is going to be my new home soon. Sexy people everywhere you look, lovely vintage clothes, heckity yes. Made my day. But I'm not paying $36 for leather bras and underwear held together by fishnets...what am I paying for, the lack fo fabric? Psh no. But that was my only complaint.

I was homesick, and have a therapy appointment. I might stop seeing my therapist. I'm fine. I think. Little weird at times, but it's not like I want to kill people. Just torture, gawd. Such a problem with this country. Ick. I found a new Pet, (and by pet, I mean someone like a toy, a playmate, that I won't fall in love with) but he called today and I almost died. He has the cutest voice in the whole world. Spending seven hours in a car is not that bad,especially when you are not driving. I want to sleep in MY bed, but because we live in an old house with spiders, that won't be happening for awhile. (Till the paranoia goes away). Old house + spiders+ hot days= they go further down into the house to find some place nice to chill, which happens to be my room, because it's the coldest room in the house. Really? Why? I don't know. I still have loads of work to do, 3500 pictures to take. I have literally taken 7000 photos. If you really want proof, I can get it to you. (i'll be annoyed though).

But I can't rest for too long, because next week is hell week for practice and then next saturday I'm going to San Diego to meet my family for some big shopping extravaganza.

Now if you don't mind...I'll be on the couch if you need me.

Title- (I don't know, do you?)(And yes, I know I could use google, but i'm lazy Xp)

ps. if you want to text me or something, just hit me up with a comment, we'll chat. Oh we will chat...

and all i hear is

The echoes of their voices and their stupid promises, their sweet nothings (lol) and my pathetic replies. I'm pretty sure the world isn't like that, at least not the whole world. I should have known better. That if I had played with a want to win, to take control, to abuse and misuse, I would have been better off. And yet, I can't hate them. Never. I'll always love them. But they were just boys and girls, and there a hell lot more of them out there.

So fuck it. It's really pointless. Really really pointless. I think I need a drink.

I'm sorry. I'm going to Oregon with friends. I have no idea what the hell I'm going to do in Oregon (really? Oregon?) But I'm packed and ready to go. I'll take pictures, if you notice I'm gone.

Title: Ashlee Simpson- Outta my Head

Up the steep and very narrow stairway

Though the song that line is from has nothing to do with life and it's underlying meanings, I found myself pondering if that's what life is like. A steep and narrow stairway, with loose floorboards and missing steps and at time plunging into darkness and we find ourselves lost. Are there rooms in the walls lining this stairway, if there are walls at all? The rooms would probably represent lull periods, rest stops, for the journey up these stairs is difficult and/or monotous. Do we race through it and find ourselves flying off the landing, if there is a landing? Or are we taking our time, easing our way through each step, testing it, reassuring ourselves that it can hold the weight of our being? And what then if we fall through? Do we sink into darkness, trapped, frozen in the fetal position, impaled upon our fears or is there someone or something waiting to catch us and help us reach the top? Do we walk it alone, or do people walk in and out of our lives to climb this steep and narrow stairway? Are there twists and turns or is it straight, does it divide into mulitiple paths or is it one that is our destiny? Have the steps always been there, or does it appear as we move forward? Can we head back down, can we go back? Can we stop and look around, or must we trudge on? Who made this stairway, us, Him, Her, THEM? Who decided we must climb it? Who was the first to see it be done? Up the steep and very narow stairway, most indeed.

"I don't want to redesign the world, I just want to take it down with me." Exquisite Corpse

Title- A Chorus Line- At the Ballet

The show must go on

I have a massive headache, and I can't sleep. I think I'm doomed to forever sleeping between the hours of 4am and noon. *sigh*

I finally went to San Francisco and it was the most tragic visit to the city I love ever. My best guy friend came along for the ride...eep....so we talked alot on the way up there and then we cuddle, blah blah blah. But we got lost...and it created so much stress. And then we didn't even go to Haight St. We went to an art museum. The only thing I liked about the art museum was there this cute girl with the sweetest brown eyes...I fell in love and completely ignored Andrew(best friend) for about an hour lamenting on my lost love. Seriously. But I got awesome shots of art that we'll be editing to make into the video. But I think after it's finished I will never listen to the song again. We went out to lunch at Boudin....and there was this street preformer and we asked him if he coould dance for the video. Alas we had no money and once he heard that, he completely ignored us. :( I was sad, like depressed. Ick. I hate myself for taking rejection so seriously. That's why I'm in therapy. If it'll help.

What else? So yeah that's pretty much it. I have no chance of perfecting the french language in time for the entrance exams I need to take soon. I will probably fail epically this year. *sigh* I'm going to go eat candy and weep for my little lost art friend. She was cute.



Title: Moulin Rouge 2- The Show Must Go on

What if I say I'm not like the others

La di da da da

So this guy the band Apocolytica looks like my ex-boyfriend. Which mad me sort of sad, horny, and gave me an incredible urge to dance. So I gave in to the dancing. When I'm awake I feel like I'm constantly preforming for him, trying to impress him. My friends opinions don't matter much, because hey, if they stuck it this far out with me then whatever follows should not be a problem. But it's the strangers I hunger for. (De ja vu?) I want their approval, their recognition that I am someone. From what I've heard it's the opposite for most people.

As for my hand, it's a bit swollen and I didn't want to leave the bed this morning, so I hunted for something made of metal that would be cold. Scissors worked pretty well, till it got warm, and then I laid my eyes on it. The monstrous beauty that could only be...a mountain of perfectly chilled(like metal room temperture) batteries. These worked extremely well and I'll have you know i'm typing with two hands now. Whicah!

My cell phone is being extremely retarded. Grrr. No idea what's wrong with it. Pfft. Might get a new one. Anyone care to like I don't know, talk to me...? :(

People...I love you. Isn't that more than enough reason to you know. Go to my about me, log on to yahoo and type in onlythelonely379 ....it's right there...waiting...hungry for your-

....

what?

where are we?

Cellphoooonnneee....where aaaarrrrreeeeee yooooooouuuuuuuu? (Cellphone, where are you?)

o_O

O_o

pfft. -.-

Go check out Jacob Karnas's blog for more interesting fun. Like he needs my help to get "discovered"...boy has got an ego.

Btw. I have pictures for you. SO keep posted for the next few days.

They...

..are....

com.ing...

Title- Foo Fighters- The Pretender