Define Summer: Empty

The first entry in a long time. I have no one to apologize too, because nobody reads this text on a black page. It makes me wonder, are all these words that float in front of my eyes, a novel in a week, are they wasted on me?

I sleep 12 hours a day. You think I do, anyway. I sleep 10. The other 2, I dream. Beautiful pictures and fantasies of a life that could have been, should have been, could be. I see Em, Sarah, Megan, today I woke up in an empty bed with Jamie on my lips. My love isn't for them anymore, but it is Love. It's an idea that fills me when I try not to remember it, reminding me every sunrise that I have a future. With her. Whoever she is, wherever she may be. The one I felt on the steps of Whit when I was alone, when I kissed Sarah and she cried, when Jamie told me secrets, when I asked Em to coffee and fate said no.

Yeah, I used your names. Nobody reads this, and none of you are Juliet anymore. Did you know when I play World of Warcraft online, I pretend to be you? I'm Neveret. I just typed it in and it stared me in the face like it was meant to be. Neveret.

I feel tears that don't come, like I used too. Am I sad, or just alive? I need a new place for this, for me. A place where I'm not Rose of Montague, Neveret, or Anthony. A place where I, and the girl who never shows her face in the mirror can be. Just be and keep living for the day when I hatch the brilliant game mechanic, write the story that makes the government want to kill me, or teach a class filled with a bunch of sleepy kids who don't give a damn about anything but the beer in their dorm room.

Who am I? I'm alive. And I've gotta grow up some time. But I'll tell you this. Truth and Beauty and Sparkles, they won't go away. I won't let them. I can't let that go, even if everything else falls apart.

Don't Forget to Shine

I did this wrong. All wrong. I lied. About the beautiful people. I said they were cheerleaders and drama queens, jocks and class presidents. I lied to your face and for that I'm sorry.

The beautiful people are real. They are the poets who never write, the musician who can't afford a square meal, those honest-to-god souls who are bigger than the skin they wear and the blood in their veins. You probably can't see it, but I can. They sparkle. I found one and I fell in love. Short, passionate, I wanted to see us burn up together. Of course it couldn't end well, nothing ever does. But I wanted to wring my heart out and squeeze every last drop of sunshine from her smile before I broke under the pain of being so close.

She wouldn't let me. She is staying with her boyfriend, who she loves very much. She knows he will dump her, this year most likely. But she cannot end it herself, she has to suffer through his abuses. I suffered through hers willingly, trying to break her out of her torture and set her gently into my arms.

But none of this really matters. What matters is that I never kissed her. She said that if we kissed, she could never see me again and her relationship with her boyfriend would end, violently. I thought the most virtuous thing I could do was break her. Make the sacrifice of never seeing her again and destroy all that she held dear so that she could live free and well. I couldn't do it, though. I kissed her on the forehead and told her "I will never leave. Not until you forget how to sparkle."

You see, apparently I sparkle too. I'm not happy like she is, exuding magic into those around her. I don't love everything that breathes. But I sparkle too. So, apparently I am a beautiful person. And the worst thing you can do, to anyone, is take away their ability to sparkle. The world likes them better that way, and it happens eventually.

This is why I don't love Juliet like I used too. A boy took her, held her, and broke her heart. When he did, she lost what made her special. She succeeds now. Plays sports, gets good grades, and will probably be a great success. But she doesn't love everything anymore. She is jaded and real, not an angel with a mortal smile.

So, if you are a poet or a dream. Don't ever forget and don't ever take it away. Always love and protect those beautiful people. Even if it kills you.

Just When You Thought It Was Safe To Go Outside

I thought my feet were on the ground. Then I swept her up in my arms and suddenly everything was just a blur. I see three stars and I find them all so beautiful, it is a crime to choose. And yet, it is a greater crime not to. I feel no guilt for my actions, as my wrists don't bleed in payment to the voices in my head that whisper my crimes. I hope that I am judged by a merciful God, for I did not mean to sin.

I did not mean to sin. I just wanted some fireworks.

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Now playing: Red Jumpsuit Apparatus - Damn Regret
via FoxyTunes

Which way is up again?

I am lost. Love forsakes you. Friends are ephemeral. I'm trying to find myself but all I've done is lost my own hope. I don't believe in a benevolent God, but the strength of the human self and the inherent stability within. Right now though, I doubt myself so much I could get hurt.

I am actively suicidal. I am going through a very rough time right now. I am trying to make love exist in an uncaring world throguh sheer force of will. Pain is love, and I am in a great deal of pain.

Someone help me?

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Now playing: Shiny Toy Guns - Money For That
via FoxyTunes

A Poetic Thought

Juliet gave me what I asked for. A promise to see this unrequited love through. I've got all that I wanted, now I just need to face everything else.

"So now I can write in my suicide note that hers were the first and last lips that ever kissed mine. I guess that's all anyone can ask."

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Now playing: Rise Against - Voices Off Camera
via FoxyTunes

Kerouac

I've been reading a lot of weird writing lately, mainly Down In Me and Reclaiming Imogen. I really like it, it's manageable in brevity and thought-provoking in the way it disturbs me. I might take up writing like this. I worry that someone will find it and the works will ruin my future career, but then this comes to mind. This thought process is the same thing that prevents me from linking my blog on facebook. I have over 100 "friends" but I still hesitate to show more than a few (those who are reading this) who I really am. I know they won't accept me. This knowledge is odd in that I enjoy playing in their world but need to live in mine.

So really, time will tell what I will do. Oh, and I should really get around to reading Kerouac, he sounds like a pretty cool guy.

Oh, and Juliet thought I killed myself. How quaint. Some days I wish I had. Hopefully the new medication will help with that. But really, I think the world is more beautiful when looking at it from the perspective of "after I die, she gets to live and..."

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Now playing: AFI - This Celluloid Dream
via FoxyTunes

A Shoulder To Lean On

Earlier tonight I thought about this.

I am a cigarette.
A tube of chemicals and addiction that burns until there is nothing left
Nothing but a foul taste, an odor
And regret.

But then, I ran all around the dorm fixing things and looking at the lives of everyone else. The industrious souls who slave away or break down into elaborate rituals of alcoholic self-destruction. I am one of them, but tonight I walked among them alternately fixing their problems and making new ones. I like to think of myself as a bad person, but in reality I get the feeling that I walk the line pretty damn well. I help those I care about and break those I don't and don't feel bad about it either way.

Tonight, the popular kids asked me to do their dirty work and talk an annoying kid into leaving them alone. I agreed, because it's better him than me. Is this what the Gestapo felt like? Regardless, I'm popular now, and that status comes with a price. The price of course, that I am willing to pay.

Last but not least, some truth to go with all this beauty. The truth being that I tell nothing but the truth when I'm drunk. Not the facts, but the truth. There is a distinction in that the truth is real where facts can be unfortunate or banal. I told a girl last night that "I'm engaged, so I can't be in love with you." Now, I haven't been engaged in over two years now, but in my heart I still belong to Juliet. I may not care so greatly about the girl I told this too that I love her, but I cared enough to make it true, if only for a moment.

What am I doing here? I don't know. I'm just trying to make ends meet and hearts heal. Well, most of them anyway. Living in this dorm is like putting a frog in a blender with a thesis paper. I think I'll drop out of college and go to The Ringling College of Art and Design. Seriously, it's as good a plan as any.

The Most Beautiful Poems, You Will Never Read

It's 7:33 and I'm falling asleep even though I woke up at 4
And all I can think of is
Polish castles,
True love,
and how sorry I am for everything I ever I ever did to you.
Sorry,
Will you marry me,
So when I die you can use my money
To sing and make it big on the indie scene?


I'd rather kiss a girl than have a thousand bucks,
I'd rather taste good chocolate than eat well for a month,
I'd rather smoke than breathe for a week,
I'd rather say what I mean than watch what I speak,
I'd rather love you tomorrow than be married to another,
I'd rather die terrified than live forever.

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Now playing: Death Cab For Cutie - Someday You Will Be Loved
via FoxyTunes

Juliet

I knew a girl once who was beautiful. She talked too loud, stumbled when she walked, had few friends, but loved the whole world anyway. Her love was endless in this respect, shared amongst everyone and everything while never being diminished.

Then, she let someone in, which she never did, and they broke her. The cruel, damnable world we live in broke this beautiful angel made of glass, replacing her love with a fountain of tears and her madness with a dim acquiescence to the rules laid out before her. Before the change she saw the extraordinary that lay beyond the veil, where now she sees only her broken reflection in a mirror.

Where is the justice? What happened to my Juliet?

I don't know, I left her behind in favor of freeing myself of the fetters our past had become to me. If I could take anything back, I wish I hadn't broken those ties, but just played cards that day. I'm sorry Juliet, and I'll come back for you some day.

I promise, on the only thing I hold sacred. My memories of Juliet.

We'll live in your Polish castle on the sea, and we'll dance in the rain once more before we die, I swear it.