Buorngioro Drugstore Cowboys!
Hey Roger!!...."Suicidal girl who OD'ed, he says he loved her, what he loves is to bleed." - Come To The Meeting (RENT NYTW)
No one ever told me growing up would hurt so much! Yeah that run in her stockings, she`s trying to hide... it didn`t happen this morning.
I woke up, morning
I woke up dead today
I aged a thousand years or more
I flinch when you are nice
You kill me with a single word
When angels fuck and devils kiss,
I'm sure
I'll bask in your forever
You just waste my time
I want to drag you down,
down with me
I wanted to help,
to help destroy the world
I wanted to be that,
to be that special girl!
- Angels Fuck, Devils Kiss (Jack Off Jill)
This song captures it. The saddness, waking up alone, so dreadfully alone. Waking up, with dreams i can't remember, Dreams that echo, haunt in my mind. Dreams that really don't think are mine. I have half a mind to wonder if I have anothert personality running around all Tyler Durdan. Even better, is the fact that at the song ends with an unrehearsed nervous breakdown . What better encompases this feeling?
Am I A Rock and Roll Suicide? Will I Join the casulaties? Maybe.
If i don't get out soon, that is. I'm Lux Lisbon, suffocating on rules, confines, and choking on suburbia. I'm a bird in a gilded cage, complaining about my luxeries , and my lack of real worries.
I'm creating problems to sabotage myself.
But I worry, in spite of it all, in spite of fierce independance, Can i take care of myself?
I have no common sense, don't sleep, and lose everything.
I'm reminded of a line of Little Edie's from Grey Gardens, "A Manager! That's what i need! An ordered life." This holds incredibly true for me. I can't order my own life. Fuck, I can't ever order my own Religion Binder, or keep my room clean. What will happen when I'm on my own?
I'm so young, but already so messed up. Sometimes I think need major help, an intervention of sorts. But These are the secrets of never shared. I don't think anyone notices though, don't think nayone really sees into me. Sure, i have friends, people who love me, who want to support me, but I can't share this with them. I pretend so much. i wonder if they'd recognize the real me if we met.
But I'm so lonely. Even when it's a hundred degrees, it's cold at night. and i wander downstairs and look out the picture windows as the cars rush buy, in winter I stand outside at midnight and do nothing but watch the snow fall. I just want someone to hold me and to tell me I am somebody, I mean something to them. Facebook has become a torture device, as each time i log in, I see another one of my friends is listed "as being in a relationship", and i wonder, why not me? What is so wrong? So repellant about me?
I've always been a good luck charm for others, I have a history of improving the lives i touch (awards, higher grades, scholarships, and jobs abound), but this doesn't extend to me. I've been the good girl, I've listened, I've followed the rules, I've patiently gone to school each morning even though i'm falling apart from the inside out and even though i'm dying a bit more each day. I 've settled. I've let others make my choices for me, I've written hundreds of school assignments with exactely what I knew the teachers wanted me to say. But in my daydreams I get up on my desk and scream, I change the world with my thoughts and i am satisfied. I've tried to be noticed, but now, although I've resigned myself to being invisible but i want to be seen!
I've adapted to my life, becoming an Introvert, and living most satisfyingly in my inner world. But once upon a time, I was a little girl who wasn't afraid of anything, I was dynamic, I'd sing in front of everyone, and I was an extrovert. But second grade girls can be mean if you have an imagnation. And ultimatedly, somewhere in the middle of my bullying victim ordeal, I let myself be silenced. I retreated, I decided that it was easier to be quiet to hide myself, to stop from getting hurt.
Now it's four years since i'm been really bullied, and I'm still hurt, I still think people are trying to trick me when they're reaching out and being nice. I rebounded into eating disorders and now I don't even know who i see in the mirror, and can't even take a compliment without getting defensive and I'm afraid of going back. Of having a two day freak-out after eating a single slice of pizza, or missed an exercise session. I can't talk, and I try to hide, but i've gone too far away. denied who I was supposed to be. I can't even speak up in class, even to agree when someone perfectly expouses my views!
But, really what else do you need besides a meaningfully marked-up copy of Moby Dick. Heather Duke freezing alone, a poor little Eskimo, in antartica (but at least away from here). And more eloquently, the creul way that "LIFE SUCKS". and then you die. But where do you go?
I can't force myself to believe in something I don't, something I don't want to think about.
But there just HAS to be a meaning to life! Otherwise, what are we doing here?
Is life just meant to have the most amount of fun, that we can?
I'm all for that, but if that's the case why do was waste our precious time with school to get a job, to support a family. If that's all there is, then I'd condone hedonism, give it all up and enjoy living very breathe. Why am I wasting my time in suburbia, complaining about being alone and not living.
I need to SHUT-UP, get out there and live. Play my game and win. Play by my own rules, no more being weakly submissive to what other people want. Do I waste too much time reading books or watching movies about people who have their own adventures?
I'm going nowhere fast, and i need to change course before i hit the wall. Before the envitable crash, since grade nine I've felt the darkness has been creeping in, and I've been riding for a fall.
When we read Cather In The Rye, I knew if i didn't stop, I might explode, a brillant eclipse of techicolour. At some point I'd stop moving, and "have to go take it easy for a while".
When I read Raise High The Roof Beams Carpenters and Seymour: an introduction, i was sure. Does thinking too much, analyzing life for pleasure, for beauty, for pain make you lose your mind?
I think it might.
If I lose everything else, though if I am never loved (because I don't think anyone really does love me), i will refuse to lose myself. Because I've found her, I've created her, and I'm proud of who she is. I'm not changing that for anyone. Go ahead try to twist my mind. Just try! i think at this point, i'd just laugh. Or I'd run home happy for a minute in the snow, get home a collapse in tears and screams, melting againist the closed door. I'm trapped in myself, and i'm terrified what may happen if i ever get out.
Yes, I know this is maudwin and melodramatic. But I needed to get it out, a box stuffed to brim with secrets, will always burst, like it or not. And I've always like to do things on my own terms.
FIAT LUX! (Let there be light.)
Please! I need a little light right now. I need to find my way, to get back on the path home. Wherever that may be, and be greeted at the door by someone who loves me. For who I am, laughs at my falls and issues, but is always there to help me back up to my feet.
“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!”
- Jack Kerouac
I've been burned. And I don't think the scars ever really fade.
As Always,
Your Catcher.
