Beautiful Freak

2/18/2012

2012-02-18T00:16:00.000-08:00

Do you understand it?

That feeling. Of being in freezing cold rain at two in the morning. Music singing in your ears. As stiff and as frozen as a corpse. The way your joints become metal.

Do you understand it?

That feeling you get when you stand in the wind and you can feel pieces of your soul drift away. Mud becoming your feet. Turning into something no longer alive. The feeling of being a ghost.

Do you understand it?

Walking around town both dead and alive. A fragment of what you used to be. For a fraction of a second you actually ask yourself if you are dead.

Do you understand it?

Cold empty streets. No cars for minutes. Desolate like you.

moving on or moving forward

2012-02-15T02:07:00.000-08:00

How am I supposed to feel? I don't know. It's a break, right? Or are we done for good? I'm sure I didn't treat him the best. I tried.

Pictures of us litter my room. He is everywhere. I love him. Loved. No, love.

When we are together in the real life form of existence we are fine. Good. Great. We are just ourselves and nothing feels awkward. He can play video games and I can write and we don't feel bad. When I'm with him I feel at home. At peace. I feel comfortable.

But lets face it, we were rarely together. And that hurt. Have you ever had 5,000 miles of earth lay between someone who makes you feel that way? It hurts. He'd say he was going to Holland for the weekend to visit a friend and I'd feel robbed because I didn't feel like I'd have the option of doing the same thing. He's scared for me. That's what he'd tell me.

I'd say something about paperwork and moving and he would feel suffocated. I thought he wanted me there. God knows I'd like to be there. New place. New me. He'd say it was a lot of pressure. I'd say he was getting my hopes up.

People constantly told me he would flirt with other people. And when I'd bring up talking to his ex or other people liking him he'd pretend that I was making a mountain out of a mole hill. People told me to just move on. Find something more stable. Date a girl.

I don't know what to feel. Is it wrong to want him? Should I just move on? Or is this all things that can be fixed with time?

I guess we are all fools when it comes to these things. Blinded with everything. I am a fool. I can admit it.

Love is a lie. But I want it to be a lie I can believe in.

2012-02-13T21:42:00.001-08:00

My heart breaks with the truth.

I don't know what to feel anymore.

2011-11-04T12:57:00.000-07:00

I've become extremely needy since I met you.

What have you done to me?

Dear Scarlett,

2011-10-27T23:38:00.000-07:00

You won't get this for another eleven years. I know it seems a bit odd. Me writing to you right now. Seeing as you're only five as I write this, there is so much time to pass before you get this. I cannot even fathom what the world will be like when you get this. So much will pass and change. You and I won't even be the people we are right now.

Ideally, you will be getting this for your sixteenth birthday. If it is your birthday, congratulations. If not, I'm sorry I missed it.

Chances are you don't know me very well. Something within me at this moment says I won't even be living near you when you get this.

I want you to know that there is so much more than Texas. Seems obvious. But the world has so much to offer. Whether it's the hillside in Wales or the beaches of Florida. Everywhere is somewhere. And no matter where you go there is life to be had. So much of my life right now is about wanderlust. It doesn't really run through the family but somehow it has found it's way within me. And I hope one day it settles in you. Even if for a short period of time.

I grew up with your mom. I know what she's like. It may seem hard at times, it's always hard growing up, but you will manage. She cares about you so much. Take her somewhere. I think she deserves to see some part of the world too. You don't have to take her somewhere grand, just take her somewhere. If only for a night.

Know that I love you. Even if you never see me. Know that I am here for you. I probably know more than people think. And I'm sure the family won't speak kindly of me often. If they speak of me at all. As of right now, I don't have a good reputation for people liking me. At least not with family. I'm the black sheep if you will. But that's okay. I can't say that I regret the choices I made. And I don't plan on regretting the ones I will make later. Even if I make all the wrong choices, I regret none of them. My bad choices have lead me to wonderful places.

If you are lonely and are hurt know the world is not out to get you. The weather does not reflect your mood. It if a free thing. Wild and unattainable. Rejoice in it's mystery. Dance in the rain when no one is watching and let the wind run through your veins. The world if a part of you. And you her.

Know that your genetics do not define you. The only thing that ever truly defines you is yourself. Only you can say who you are.

Meet people. And often. For they will walk in and out of your life like the flicker of a candle. Those people who you thought would be in your life forever may be. But that is not always the case. Know that everyone has some sort of cross to bear. Everyone is complex. Try and imagine them this way.

Fall in love. Get your heart broken. And then fall in love again. This is how your heart works. It can be fickle but know that it is a strong muscle. It pumps about 6,000 quarts of blood through you a day. In and out, a long and beautiful cycle. Marriage is a beautiful thing. But don't be pressured by it. You do not need to be married to be happy and you do not need to be married to remain in love.

Have movie moments. Stand at the ocean at 4 am with friends and be in awe of how vast everything seems. Cry at the airport when you have to say goodbye. Cry even harder when you have to say hello. Tears of happiness do exist. Go to concerts and feel infinite. Do things you are scared to do. Don't have sex because you have to or because you want someone to love you. Learn to put a condom on and ALWAYS use one. Don't look for absolution in sex. Trust your judgment. I will.

Live life, Scar. That's what I want from you. To live your life. Even when you feel stuck in one place, live your life. Know that it is your life. Sure you still have some time before you are out of high school. But make the most of it. It won't be the time of your life but make it as good as you can. Good things will always follow the bad. Hold on long enough so that you can see them. They are there, I promise.

You are loved,

Aunt Kimber

December 14, 2010

2011-08-17T00:18:00.000-07:00

I'm still the same girl. I still want the same things. Off the pill I want the same things. On the anti-depressants all I want is to just keep going. So I had a downfall. A major downfall. It just got to me. So I took the pills. I don't think it's because I wanted to die. I think it's deeper. Less explored. The desire to get better. By force.

I'm still the same girl.

2011-08-14T23:09:00.000-07:00

I want you to see me. Every aspect of me.

I want you to hear me. From every sighed breath to every shouted word.

I want you to know me. So that you will understand what you are getting into.

I want you to be here with me. The miles will be the death of us.

August 15, 2011

2011-08-14T23:06:00.000-07:00

How simple it would be to just cut myself. To take this razor and make myself hurt. My skin would show the madness within. Everyone would be able to see just how unwell I am. How no matter what I do it will never be enough.

I don't know why I feel so disregulated. You would think of me as happy. Don't I look happy? My smile says I am. The undying love of the boyfriend says I am. The happy surroundings and promise of a future says so. Yes, I guess I should be happy. But for some reason I'm not.

I feel so betrayed. By myself. By the things and people I love. I don't know what to do anymore. I use words like "forever" and "marriage" now. Words I never used before. Words I dreaded and fled from. Who is this person I have become? Who is this person who I have created and placed inside myself? I fear myself so much. I fear who I have become. I've become the girl who can't live without the boy. When before people leaving me was expected. Almost understood. It became just another passing thing that I tried to ignore.

The people around me doubt me. They say it's just a phase. That the relationship will fizzle out and it will just be something in my past. Another thing I will only remember and not live. Parts of me believe it. But parts of me want to fight. To stand up and shout and prove that it's so much bigger than that. But I won't.

Screaming words of contradiction will just be another thing I hold inside. So many things I want to say. So many things I just want to whisper to people. Stories left untold. They aren't of any real importance. Just things I don't tell anyone. But I want to tell someone. I want to be able to sit down with someone and let them know what goes on inside. I want to tell them but all I want is for them to listen. I don't need anger or sympathy. I don't need judgement. I just want someone to listen.

Will you sit down with me? Listen to my words. I'll tell you about my father. You have to promise to just listen. I'll tell you about my scars. Why they are there. I'll tell you about my dreams. I just want to tell someone. My life feel like it's suffocating in my body and I can't get it out. No one will sit with me and sift through the past. Not without getting hurt or hating someone. Am I asking too much?

In My Mind

2011-07-09T22:59:00.000-07:00

In a week he will be here. What a sap I am. Counting down the days. It's the first time I've ever felt like this. I want to wallow in my sappiness.

It's bee about three months. Oh how the time has passed. Some moments in endless lulls and others in quick evaporating hours. Oh how my chest hurts. Whether it be because so much sadness is in my life right now. Or knowing that I can hold him again, I am not sure. I'd like to say that he has my heart and I'm aching for it back. But I fear that is not true. I still have pieces of it. Why else would it break so much? He'd take care of it. Me, not so much.

Intruders invade my skin and pull on every last piece of my that's left. At the end of the day, I'm left empty and hurt. Why does this keep happening? Am I really that hell bent on my own destruction that I keep letting people hurt me? I guess I just don't know what to do with myself anymore. I try and take care of myself but I'm sure that I'm not doing it right.

None of those things will matter though. Not within a week. I'll be off on another adventure with people I adore. Too busy to feel sadness. This is my life. Chasing adventure in search of happiness. Only to know that when it settles down I can feel the hurt again. But I won't deal with that now. Right now I'll sleep and get ready for him to be here. I'll think about how I feel at home with him.

I'll think about anything else but the sadness. Because as of the past week only sadness has been what's in my mind.

December 28, 2010

2011-07-06T21:33:00.000-07:00

"I’m seeing you now. Understanding your past, and knowing that may affect now. But overall, I see Kimber, 2010. Not Kimber 2004. Not Kimber 2003. I see you now."

-Adam/Adda/Gears

2011-07-06T19:54:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I wonder what life would be like for those who know me if I was successful at killing myself. I usually squash the idea quickly because I don't want to think about him being happy with a girl who wasn't me. How selfish of me.

July 5, 2011

2011-07-05T21:29:00.000-07:00

I've been slowly isolated. Slowly cut out. Only one person from that side of my family even likes me, and that's because they married in and I was friends with her before she ever met my cousin. I've hit the point where I just don't care. They talk about me like I'm a ghost. Behind their hands in whispered words. They love me conditionally.

My father and his family don't like me. They cannot even fathom why I made the choices I have. They look down on me like I'm something to pity. A girl craving for approval. I'm the black sheep.

It's been going on for years. After being in therapy, upon my own request, they have never treated me the same. I was once their sweet innocent girl. The one who took abuse and just stood there like it didn't hurt. But then it got to me. My psychosis they inflicted set in. The cuts got deeper. Drinking got heavier. Nights of being high got more frequent. And I asked for help.

They didn't see that I wanted help. All they saw was this girl who was damaged, and they didn't even try to fix me. My Papa drove me to therapy. The only person in my father's family who even remotely cared. And here I am, a year after his death, crying for him. He was the only who who made me feel like I belonged.

I don't even feel like I'm allowed to grieve for him. Because I didn't grow up in his house like my cousins. Because he didn't babysit my kids, like he did with my sister. Because I only visited him once while he was sick. Because I wasn't there for him as often as everyone else. He drove me to therapy. He told me I'll be okay. He kept me sane for so long. And now that he is gone, I've slowly become isolated from my family.

I feel like I'm not allowed to love him or cry for him. I feel selfish for crying right now. He was the only man I ever loved until now. He was my father and the whole reason I tried to stay in my father's life. But he's gone.

I love my Papa but I have to let go. And letting go of him means I have to let go of my father and his side of the family. I have no reason to stay with them anymore. Holidays will from now on be spend with my mother. The woman who, up until recently, I resented for abandoning me as a kid. The person who sat with me in the hospital. Who knew I'd get sad and depressed when I came home from Wales. The family member who supports me choices.

I just don't want to let my Papa go. I miss him. I've been going to Christmas and Thanksgiving only because I hope, in the back of my mind, that he'll walk out and tell me that I'll be okay again. I just want to hug him again. And cry on his shirt. And ride to therapy with him. I just want to hear him tell me that everything is going to be alright.

I'm a wreck and I never got to say goodbye.

Marry the Night

2011-06-30T22:18:00.000-07:00

Lately I've found myself spending at least an hour after hour outside. Not in a normal way. Usually I sit in the dark and smoke and listen to music. I've just begun to see it as a new pattern.

It started when things blew up in my face a few days back. I won't get into that. It's complicated. But as I sat outside in the dark at 11 at night I found myself realizing that maybe this is what I needed. A little TLC with my lovely darkness.

I cried a lot that night. Over friendships that I willingly ended. Over the boy I feared would leave me.

"I'm a soldier to my own emptiness..."

I've done it every night since. I sit in the backyard, alone, and I let the darkness just fill me up. Let the words of my siren songs consume me. Music therapy.

Maybe I've forgotten why I loved nature. Sure my backyard isn't that full of nature but it will do for now. I forgot what it was like to just be. Sure I exist as it is, but i forgot how it peaceful it is to just sit an be alone in a place where you feel safe. The night.

The only other times I feel so calm in my own skin is when I am with him or when I'm at a concert. I'm not saying that I'm unhappy all the other times. I'm really happy where my life is right now. There is just something about being surrounded by trees and stars that make you remember who you are.

You want to know who I am? I'm a lovesick girl on a rock floating in space. Knowing that somewhere out there he is under the same moon. Knowing that He can see the same stars and darkness.

I'm a girl who dances to music in the rain at the dead of night. Falling in mud and knowing that no matter how dirty my life gets, there is someone out there who will love me. Feel the vibrations in my movement of the night. Maybe if I try hard enough he will feel me in the ground. Miles away. Because he is a boy who shares this floating rock and if I try, he'll feel me from all the way over here.

I'm a girl who feels so confident in the fact that she believes she can feel him when he isn't there. Sleeping. I can feel the peace and love he emits despite the fact that he doesn't know he's doing it.

"I'm gonna marry the night/I'm not gonna cry anymore/I'm gonna marry the night/leave nothing on these streets to explore..."

I love these moments. Being alone at night. Because I'm not really alone. And in no way do I feel lonely. Because he is here with me, whether he can feel it or not.

And at last I have found that thing I was aching for. That unquestioned understanding and love. At last, I am at peace.

Six months Later

2011-06-09T19:21:00.000-07:00

Six months ago I was fighting the demons in my mind. Fighting off the lingering sensation of my attackers touch. Six months ago I sat in a park smoking and hacking away at my flesh. Hoping if I altered myself he would leave me. I cried myself to sleep and spent every hour I could holding it inside so that everyone thought I was fine. I only fell apart when I was alone.

Six months ago I grabbed a bottle of water and giant bottle of Extra Strength Tylenol. I lined them up and took them. One after another. After another. After another. Until I couldn't fit anymore inside me.

I can remember, distantly, how my body started to go numb. how I called my father crying saying that I took it back. I remember collapsing in the hall on my way to the car and somehow picking myself back up and climbed in the back seat.

Six moths ago it all could have ended. But it didn't. Is that what's best? Better to have lived through that than to have just perish? I guess I will never know. I'm not saying I regret it. I don't regret for a moment taking those pills. But I also am glad i survived. At least for now.

The nameless-faceless attacker has subsided completely. I no longer feel so overthrown by demons. I no longer feel possessed. In fact I feel completely and utterly free from myself. I can go anywhere. Do anything.

2011-05-31T10:17:00.001-07:00

Everything I touch turns to ash.

May 5, 2011

2011-05-30T13:25:00.000-07:00

I move the sharp objects away from me. Trying to fight off any urge before it become unbearable. I throw the scissors across the room and look away so I don't see them land.

It's been getting worse. My emptiness. Maybe it's because I was given so much and then had it snatched with the distance. Can I be happy knowing that so far away someone I love is walking around, breathing, living, and I can't go to them and make myself feel better? Can the distance be what makes all of this crumble?

Maybe I'm fickle. Weak. Longing for something I know I do not need or deserve. Maybe I am just dreaming that this all work. Part of me wants to end it all, to call this relationship quites before my poor girlish heart gets in too deep. Yet there is a stirring in me. Something unknown and it wants all the things I never wanted before. The boy. The adventure. The chance to be freely in love. I could have it all...if I only knew how.

I retreat. I keep to myself and let depression set in because I'm too scared to admit that I could have everything. So scared of my heart and where it is trying to lead me. I am terrified. So I keep it in. Let it fester and bleed. Until I have to let it out physically. The urges set in.

I'm stupid for picking it up, you don't have to tell me. I know that things will never be the same. They haven't been "the same" for years. I know that when I think about all the little things I will want to cut more. It just feels good.

Maneater

2011-05-23T11:03:00.000-07:00

I never say the right things. I always bring up things that he either doesn't understand, doesn't want to think about or won't work with me through.

I tell him that I sometimes want to cut. That it's still there, even if I don't act on it. He tells me that that is stupid. He asks me why. So I tell him the truth, I'm getting better at doing that. I tell him that it feels good. He looks away and tells me to stop talking. Ashamed, I am utterly and totally ashamed.

We let the silence engulf us and kill whatever kind of happiness we could have had that night. I know I shouldn't but I tell him I'm sorry. I did it again. I said what was on my mind and it just makes things hurt. He tells me to give him two minuets so I do. And we just keep there, our mouths shut.

Funny how I can feel like I can be completely honest with someone and learn that once again, I can't.

It's not the first time I've done it. Said something I wasn't going to but then opened my mouth anyway. Said the words that make him tell me to shut up. I told him he was a hypocrite. That he hates me for even talking to a guy. A guy I didn't even do anything with. A guy that I probably would have. Yet at the end of the day he's the one who cheated with his ex's. I never once cheated. I never want to hurt someone like that.

I told him it wasn't fair. That I talk to a boy who I have known for years and not even take the offer that was out there. But you can tell me that while you were with Katherine you cheated. That when you were with Ashley, Bex, and Amy, you were with me. Saying all the things that would have made those girls cry. You said all the things to me that you said to them.

Maybe I should give up. Maybe I should quite dating. I am not a dating kind of girl to begin with. I am perfectly fine being alone. Alone means I can only hurt myself. Alone means I won't go to bed crying again because he just doesn't understand me. I'm tired of crying. I'm not sure I can be the girlfriend type.

I just want to be inspirational again. As I am. No filter. I just want to be Kimber. And I just want that to be okay. Not something I should feel ashamed for.

Someone Like You

2011-05-22T01:28:00.000-07:00

It's funny. How the Ex's seem to just be coming from the woodwork. Like they just keep popping up out of nowhere and keep poking me. Not mine, I honestly wouldn't mind if it was mine. His. I was his friend while he was in a relationship with all of them. The only one I have yet to know is the big one. The one who he was with for years. I met him right after that ended. But all the others. I watched him date them. And when she rejected him I was there. A good friend.

The seem to all want to come back at once. Is it because I've managed to make this last over 100 days? Is it because they genuinely want to "warn" me? Or do they just want to fuck with my mind? Cause they are.

I guess that's the price you pay when you are someone's friend and you move out of the friend zone.

I don't know what hurts me more. The fact that they can get under my skin. Or the fact that I won't tell Adam because he just won't get it. I see these girls. With their "I loved him"s and I can't help but comparing. Comparing is one of the worst things you can do for you psyche.

It makes you doubt everything. Am I pretty enough? Look at me. I'm like 200 pounds and I am riddled with scars. My hair is fried and hasn't been fixed in months. I have curves in all the wrong places. I need make up to look decent. I don't take good pictures.

Am I good enough? I can barely keep myself alive, let alone drag someone into this mess. I don't want those things a normal girl wants. I don't want a house with a white picket fence. I don't want kids. I don't want the happily ever after. I want freedom. Can I have both? Adam and freedom?

I just don't want to be like one of those girls. The Ex. The one who comes in and kind of shows you that they were in that spot, too. I have a feeling I'll end up like that. That I will unintentionally bother the next girl and show off that we all went through it. We all were with him.

Maybe I won't be. Maybe I'll be the last girl. The last one he dates. And vice versa. Who knows? I'm not saying that I think about that. But maybe this is temporary. After all I am the one who flew over there...just for the tiny scrap of a chance. I'm the one with his things. I'm the one who went the extra 4000 miles and went to see if what I felt was real. None of them had that. The chance to hug and kiss him. Waking up with him next door every morning. Tea with his mom. His parents loved me. None of them had that. I should probably focus on that.

Sam

2011-05-17T13:33:00.000-07:00

In comparison to you, what am I? Am I a whore because I'm not a virgin? Am I someone who stole something from you since you wanted him? You did want him right? Or were you just playing with his mind?

I guess you think you are better than me. You kiss strange boys in the night. You make out with married men but you don't fuck them. I guess that makes you better than me. Sometimes I thin you are better than me. And let me just tell you, that fucks with my mind.

I should have known you'd get to me, too.

Mistakes

2011-05-17T13:31:00.000-07:00

Rarely do people actually tell me to chase my dreams. Or move. Or that it's okay to make mistakes. Rarely do people ask me if I'm okay. Or if I'm getting better. Or acknowledge the fact that 5 months ago I was in a hospital.

I guess with most things you just get up and move along. That's what most people do, right? I don't know if it's me or if I am mentally deranged but I can't just do that. I hold onto that pain. I hold onto what it felt like to have nurses check on me every 15 min. I hold onto the taste of the medication. I hold onto my two word suicide note. "I'm sorry," it read.

I'm sorry. That is all. Not the whole "I know you'll be better without me. I am just a liability. It will be okay. I have to find an escape." I guess that's not my style. I wanted it short and to the point. I. Am. Sorry.

Thinking about it now those two words really said, "I am not strong. I am but a weak being in a broken vessel. I don't know how you will feel because I don't really know you. I don't know if I'll survive the morning. But know this, for all your pain. The endless nights I cut and cried and sat in the bath for hours on end because I thought he died... I know that. I know how that feels. And I am so very sorry if you feel that. It's not what I wanted. But I cannot live in the broken vessel of a body anymore. She is too fragile and easily wounded. Forgive me for what I have done to you."

I know that I will be the black sheep of the family. I already am. I know that one day my brothers will speak of me in private with their families and say things like "don't turn out like Aunt Kimber. She took enough pills to kill herself and ended up with the crazies. She dyed her hair every color she could to prove her freedom. She ran away to a different country and now we never see her. Don't turn out like her. We don't like her."

They will always talk about the effect but they will never talk about the cause. They will whisper about my cuts but they will not dare to speak of why they are there. They will whisper about my suicide but they will never once ask me why I did it. Why the demons filled my head. Why my body was invaded and I needed to get him out of me.

I guess I'm okay with that. At least I know that this is how families are. They tell you not to be a certain way. They tell you all the things you shouldn't be. But very rarely do they tell you it's okay to be yourself. To be okay with the choices you made. They want you to feel ashamed of your sexual orientation or the way you dress. They want you to comb your hair and make you pretty for the public. They rarely tell you that you are beautiful, scars and all. And you are. I am. I am perfect.

I love the choices I have made. I love that I am able to stand up and say "I survived. I did what I had to do to make myself better. I flew 5 thousand miles away to see a boy who I may or may not live with. I am so happy to have made mistakes."

As a Matter of Fact

2011-05-10T19:50:00.000-07:00

The fact is, I'm completely lonely. Maybe I've been avoiding it. Keeping myself busy so that I won't have to see it. Won't have to feel it. Admit it. But I really am so very lonely. I haven't been this lonely in a long time. It's the lonely you feel when you are finally alone at home. When everyone is gone and you aren't bothered with being in the way if you want to go cook or do the laundry. That's when it hits you.

It's when you realize that there is no one in your phone who would answer if you called them. It's the lonely you feel when you finally realized just how much you missed that person who you had to leave in Heathrow Airport. And you can finally understand why they were crying when you let go of their hand. It's reliving that moment. Seeing the devastation on their face. That is lonely. That is me.

The fact is, I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I tell people these things. Tell them not to kill themselves. Tell them to just hold onto a tiny scrap of hope. But what am I holding onto? That one day holding on will bring me some sort of happiness? That it's worth the fight?

I don't know who I am. I guess none of us know who we are. I don't know what to do with myself anymore. It would be so simple if to just say, "take these pills. They will make you fly. They will make you free." It would be so simple to just say, "keep cutting. It makes you feel so good. Proves you are alive. My living dead girl." But I won't. It's easy to tell myself these things, but that doesn't mean I will.

The fact is, I'm scared. I'm terrified of what will happen if I move. Let alone if I move to another country. And yes, I have been toying with that little piece of..freedom. What will I do? Where will I live? What happens if I want to go home? How will I survive?

Leaving is necessary. Yes, I know this. I have to go. I have to move. Why not move to Wales, right? Why not try it? If only for a little while. We all must leave one day. To create our own stories and adventures. So that we can come home and see our family and prove to them that you can do something right. So that you can tell your nieces and nephews that anything is possible. So that you can finally breathe and sleep right. You have to go., even if being scared is one of the byproducts.

The fact is, I think I love him. I think that sometimes I can't see my life without him. Other times I can't see my life at all. They all wanted me to be in love. Wanted me to finally feel loved. And now I am consumed with it. Filled to the brim. Unsure of what to make of it all.

(Un)Caged part one

2011-05-07T00:02:00.000-07:00

You don't even know me. I've been a stranger in every house I've lived in. All the bad things, how did you not see them happening? Is it because I am good at covering the cuts and bruises I put on myself? Is it because you didn't want to admit that I'm not the daughter you wanted? How can I be so foreign from you? I am your blood.

I remember pieces. The bad parts of my life. I remember them. And you were never there. Where were you? Seriously, why weren't you there to stop me? I did all these things. I let him feel and touch me. I took pills from strangers. I kissed boys and girls I shouldn't. You are my parent. Why didn't you stop me?

Was I not worth saving? Did you just not notice? I needed you. God, I still do. But where are you? In another house. With a family who doesn't even feel like mine. Living a life I can never fully be a part of. You were supposed to be there for me, dad. You were supposed to love me and protect me. Love me you did. Protect me, I'm not so sure.

How different would I have been if you were there for me? How much would change about me? Would 19 words from a poem bring me to tears like it has just now? Or would it be a whole set of different words?

You aren't supposed to let these things happen to me.

"Why do i

remember only certain details and
really the main

question is where was my mother?"

-Francesca Lia Block

Thoughts From Across The Pond: Pt 2

2011-05-01T10:54:00.000-07:00

I want so badly to yell at him. I rehearse the words in my head over and over again.
"How dare you make me fall in love. How dare you make me question everything I want. How dare you show me the world and it's wonders and use the word 'forever.' How can you do this to me? I can never be the same now. I'll never recover from this."

and I won't. It feels like nothing I do will ever be the same. I can't remain in this town without thinking about days of waking up there. Without dreaming of the hillside and the history. I'll never be the same. I can't imagine my life without the boy who showed me the world. I guess I've turned into a sap.

Thoughts From Across The Pond: Pt 1

2011-04-27T06:46:00.000-07:00

First thing in the morning, before I open my eyes, I stretch my arm out to see how large the bed is. It's just something I needed to do. To my disappointed my bed has gotten wider. Well my bed has remained the same size but the bed I've been sleeping in for the past two weeks is severely smaller. And then I do it, the thing I dread doing. I open my eyes. It's my walls. My posters. My mess on the floor. I'm home. The place I was dying to go back to in December. The one place I wish I could leave today.

Being gone does that to you. You feed into your eternal wanderlust and then when you have to go back to "normal" you can't function.

I did so much waiting to get there. Waiting for a birth certificate so I can wait to get a passport. So I can wait for my check so I can wait for the day my flight leaves. So I can wait on a plane to land. A lot of waiting...and it was worth the months of stagnant careful life so I can leave.

I know I kept questioning why I was going. Even in the air I had no idea why I was in the plane. Adventure? Wanderlust? Because I could? No, I did it because it felt right. I had to.

After months of waiting it happened, I landed in good ole London. And before I knew it I was going through customs and getting my suitcase. And then I took the long empty hall that led to a sea of faces waiting for their loved ones. I walked through that hallway alone only to be attacked via hug by the one reason I was going. He just felt right. I knew, even through all my past protest, that he was the reason I had left home. He just felt right. He felt like home. He felt like someone worth flying to a different country for.

Nine hours till take off.

2011-04-11T01:38:00.000-07:00

I can't say that I'm used to this. The giving up one thing to do another. It's all about choices. You can go on that trip to the UK or you can go take that roadtrip. You can be with that boy/girl or you can be a wild single being. How do you know that you made the right choice? You don't, you just have to trust yourself. I have a hard time with that though. Trusting myself. I don't like myself most of the time. How do I trust someone I don't like?

I've already picked this path. I still have time to turn back but why would I? So I can go on a roadtrip to do things I've done a thousand times before? No, I would I do that? I want an adventure. I want something new. I want something I may never get to do again. I want to go to a different country and use different money. I want to see mountains and coal mines and do things my parents never got the chance to do. Or just chose not to do.

But I'm probably rambling now...because it's 3:30 AM and I am forcing myself to stay up so that I can be tired and go to sleep on my flight.

I feel like such an adult and such a child at the same time. I'm excited for the promise of adventure and new experiences. But I'm also terrified. I've only been on a plane once and that was over 3 years ago. I don't remember what to do. And even then it was a very short plane ride. But I think I can occupy my time with sleep and comic books and music. And then there is the whole meeting up at the airport with Adam. This is a boy I don't know outside of my computer. I surround myself with good people but it's always a scary experience meeting someone for the first time. Let alone living with them for 2 weeks.

I'm terrified. I can't just go home if something bad happens. I'll be stuck in a different country. But I think this my just be last minute paranoia. Wish me luck.

Three days till take off

2011-04-08T12:47:00.000-07:00

Sitting alone in my room. I don't doubt it anymore. It's what I'm meant to do. I have to go. It won't be a long trip. I am sure I will never want to come back to the mess I'm leaving. The people I've hurt. The family who's questions linger in their eyes although they will not ask them. Freedom. A taste of freedom.

I've come to terms with the fact that this is my life. The choices I've made. The ones that will forever haunt me and the ones that brought the light back into me. This is my life. All the things, no matter how hard I try, will be what make me me. Have made me me.

This is just another part of the great journey that is "Kimber." I fear it. So much can go wrong. People may not be who them seem to be. But it's something I must do. I have to risk myself. All of myself. Even the most guarded part of me, my heart. Even if it gets hurt, I'll never know unless I go.

I said I wasn't going for love. And I still stand by that. I'll be staying with a boy. My best friend. But even friends can break your heart. I've been through it before. I'll have to put myself in harms way to know if it was worth it.

Three days till I go. No turning back now. I've made up my mind. Let the search for my Great Perhaps begin. Let my future unfold and my art come from love and adventure. Let all my choices be for the good of myself...even if while I'm making them they seem bad. All the bad turns into one huge good at the end of the day. I don't regret my choices.

"And so I run. Maybe for life. Maybe for fun. The journey of this lotus has begun."

April 5, 2011

2011-04-05T15:15:00.000-07:00

Why am I sad? Why are there tears in my eyes? Am I just overwhelmed? Or is it something else? Something deeper? I thought I'd be happy. I want to be happy. But as each day drones on all the things I feared begin to happen. I've begun to look at him differently.

He does the things my dad does. He tells me what I have to do. It's become less of my trip. We had plans. I was going to see castles and explore. I won't be there for long. But he is wanting to do those things less and less. And I fear I will spend my whole vacation in a valley. In a house. Playing X-Box or reading. What's the point of leaving if you don't want an adventure?

My father is doing all the things I planned on doing this week. Calling the bank. Changing my phone plan. The only thing solely left for me is packing my bag. Which has become an increasingly depressing task.

Maybe it's just pretrip depression. Maybe it'll go away when it gets closer to leaving.

Off To See The World

2011-04-02T20:25:00.000-07:00

Passport is in. Tickets are bought. I'm off to see the world I guess. Well, I'm off to see part of it.

I can't help but wonder why I'm actually going... People keep telling me it's stupid. That it is a huge mistake.

Is it?

Am I going for the prospect of a new adventure? Or am I going to find an escape?

I'm not going for love that's for damn sure. (or is that a lie I keep telling myself?) I mean sure, I am going to stay with a guy who is my best friend and I admire. (To at least some degree.) But I don't think I'm going so I can fall in love.

After all that has happened, I just want out. I want to know what it's like to be away from this place. To be in a new city, a new country, a new lifestyle. I want to be surrounded by strangers and know what it's like to just be out of this place. This town and these people, I need to flee them for a little while.

I thought I'd be excited when I bought the ticket but I've begun to let other people's opinions get in the way. But I bought it anyway, why did I do that? For the castles and museums and the chance to be with a friend?

I think when I'm there I'll finally realize why I'm there. I know it's a big risk. So many things can go wrong. But I guess that's a risk I'll have to take. Because at the end of the day the adventure is worth so much more than the hurt.

I'm 20, I'm allowed to make mistakes. And if this trip is a mistake, then so be it. It's a mistake. I'm supposed to spend my money on things I shouldn't and do things that are risky.

I guess this is my way of venting. To let all the thoughts out (even if they are a bit scatterbrained) before I let them fester and I sleep with regret on my mind. No matter what happens know that I wanted this. And that the risk was one I needed to take.

And always, always, always know that I would rather have a hellish trip then not have gone. That I'd rather make a mistake when I'm 20 then regret not going when I'm 40. I don't don't want to wake up one day and wonder what might have happened if I had gotten on that plane because I was too much of a coward to just do it.

March 15, 2011

2011-03-15T00:53:00.000-07:00

The world is in chaos. I pray to the god I don't believe is listening that peace will come. Just one day. Make the killings stop. I know it won't happen.

The earth is breaking. I haven't been the girl who runs under the moon and feels the ground in a long time. I know it's not my fault. I want to be that girl again.

The water is revolting. How I wish I could turn into water and be one of those waves. Just to see how it feels. To be the thing everyone needs and yet so destructible.

People are evil. They look over the fact that people are dying because they want money. They will take from everyone. Kindness has become the minority.

Bells

2011-03-15T00:40:00.000-07:00

I never want to get to that place again. I never want to be that close to the edge again. I never want anyone to feel like that. I know it's stupid. I can't stop people from being depressed. I can't stop people from committing suicide. I can't save everyone. I am not even sure I can really save myself.

I read a girl's suicide note a few minuets ago. A proper note. Mine consisted of two words: I'm sorry. It was her way of letting go. It was on Tumbr, a blogging network. I showed up on my dashboard and I read it, because so many people wanted to help. It's very strange. It felt secret almost, a secret hundreds had read. I don't know if she made it. I don't even know if she went through with it.

She was 14. Her name was Isobel or Bells for sort, a name I had thrown around earlier with my boyfriend. He has asked what one of my favorite names was and my rely was "Isobel." I think that is what struck me the most. Made me cry and shook me up. Here is this girl, old enough to be my little sister, with the name I used earlier, about to commit suicide.

I just want to hug her. I can't tell her that it will get better. I don't know that. I just want to tell her that I know how it feels.

I cry more for strangers than I do for the people I know. I can't say I know why.

I don't think in anyway I can be the catcher in the field of rye. Catching all the kids before they fall. But I can't help but think that I can help someone, though that thought may be a bit narcissistic. That may be why I keep going. Why I integrate myself into some sort of normality. I get better. It's been 3 months. I have a boyfriend now. I have plans for a future now. I keep going...because I know that somehow this wasn't all done in vain. That one day I can save a girl like Bells.

I can't say I would be good for a girl like that.. A girl like me. But she needed someone. We all need someone, even if we don't think we do.

I hope you're alive Bells. I know you will probably will never read this even if you were alive, but know that you have someone. The scars fade and the memories get tattered on the edges. The pleasure out ways the pain. And all the love in the world is more than the fraction of hate that is put in front of you. Know, Bells, that at the end of the day, even in complete isolation, you are never alone. These tears I shed tonight are for you. I hope you find the strength to keep fighting despite the urge to forfeit.

With all the love in my bleeding heart,
Kimber LeAnn Coon

December 5, 2008

2011-02-20T21:46:00.000-08:00

Note from teacher in English journal:

"I hope you are not reverting to old (and destructive) behavior. You have so much potential to let flow down the drain because it's the only way you can feel."

October 17, 2008

2011-02-20T21:38:00.000-08:00

Excerpt from English journal:

"I just want the story living inside me out there. I just want the world to know that I have lived and I have seen a lot. I just want the world to know that I am better then they ever thought I was."

September 25, 2008

2011-02-20T21:35:00.000-08:00

excerpt from english journal:

"I cannot figure out what I want to do with my life. At one point I wanted to be a doctor and work for Doctors without Borders. Another point I wanted to be a chief, but I didn't feel like I was actually doing anything important. I once wanted to be a film director or a make-up artist. Now all I want is to be important. I want to write. The stories, I have a lot... most importantly I have to want it, more than anything in the world. I hope I find what I was called to do."

"All I want to be important.."

2011-02-20T21:25:00.000-08:00

Digging into old letters. Reading old journals. I wrote them for you. Every piece of my has been for you. I've never done any of this for myself. Not really. All the pain. All the self mutilation. I did it for you. I've been cutting out parts of my life, saving them in jars, just so I can give them to you. I hope you get these gifts and appreciate them for what they are: words that fill your mind and make you love. I hope these words can bring you something that you never thought you'd have. These words are for you. Whoever you are, these words are for you.

February 20, 2011

2011-02-20T21:08:00.000-08:00

We both promised that we wouldn't date. That we wouldn't get each others hopes up. We promised. We lied. So here we are. A "we" and it scares me to death. Everyday I see you. Everyday I think about how I hope that I am good enough. You say I am. But all the years of people using me, telling me that I was nothing, they are still in me. I can't help it. But you say you understand. I never asked you to understand but you say you do.

You are so very good for me. Yet I find words of rejection coming out of my mouth. I gulp them back so they won't surface. Is it wrong to keep those words inside? Is it wrong to hold in all the words you can't say because you know they are lies? I want to be with him. He is, too, good for me. I want to love him. He deserves so much more.

Is it bad to stay with someone because are too selfish to let them go? I don't think I can be the girl he needs. I want to be. But I am not sure I can be. He needs someone strong. Am I strong? Everyone says I am. I don't feel strong. I take blades to skin to see if I'm stone. I cry when no one is near me so I don't worry them with my psychosis. I write words of hate and dream of murder. I dream of murdering him. I killed him and opened him up and he was empty. There was nothing but the flesh of a boy I thought I could love.

How can someone want this? How can I be this lucky? I tried to kill myself and all he wanted was to hold me closer after that. I'm 20 years old and I'm not sure what I want to do in life. Let alone in my love life. I'm not even sure I believe in love. Not real love. Not a love that can last for years. Is that something I want?

I'm lost.

I don't tell him. I don't tell him any of this. Especially how I think about breaking his heart everyday so that I don't hurt him more. I swallow my words. Because it's a lie. I think if I left now I would only be trying to save myself. To stop myself from hurting far too much. I don't want to be hurt anymore.

I'm just so very lost when it comes to these things. Love is not my game.

2011-02-12T23:15:00.001-08:00

Please wake up. I know it's only 7 am but I need you.

Confessions of Them:

2011-02-12T23:09:00.000-08:00

It's been 6 years since I last spoke to you. I still have nightmares of that day. I still cry and see your face in my dreams. I still think about how I could have made it better. How if only I said the right words. Did the right things. Maybe you wouldn't have tried to kill yourself. No, you're not dead. But inside me...you've been dead the whole time. I can never love you like that again. You've damaged my mind.

It's been 2 years since I last talked to you. Just hearing your name brings me to my knees. You were the worst thing to happen to me and I didn't know it until you uttered the words "why don't you just kill yourself already." You won, because I tried. And knowing that you won makes me angry and sick. I cannot even fathom how I could even be deluded to trust you. I am just addicted to pain.

It's been 2 months since I last talked to you. We were going to be friends forever. We had plans. We were going to be so great together. But you left me. I wish I could fix it. I wish I hadn't tried to kill myself. It cost me you. One of the most important people in the world to me. The girl who saved me a seat in Economics. The girl who dragged me to an anime convention. The first person to ever tell me I was beautiful. The last person who held me. I'm trying to live without you but it's hard. I loved you so much.

It's been 7 hours since I last talked to you. You stayed up all night just to tell me happy birthday. You were the last person I talked to before they wheeled me into the psych ward. You were the first person to tell me they loved me, when I got out. Everyday I tell you goodnight. Everyday I tell you good morning. I never believed in love. You make me doubt everything I know, and it scares me. But you also bring me more happiness then anyone ever has. Real, non-synthetic, happiness. You make me excited for the future. My great perhaps. And even though in the back of my mind I think "I hope he doesn't become one of them" I know, deep within me, that you aren't. I'll enjoy it and not compare you in such ways. You are far more then they are.

February 6, 2011

2011-02-06T13:43:00.000-08:00

The following is a piece taken out of my memoir. I thought I'd share it with you because I love my blog readers and i have been so busy writing my memoir that I have neglected you. Enjoy.

*****

I stay silent because speaking would mean admitting that I do not know how to live without you. And in the end we both know that silence says more than words ever could. Silence says "I love you" silence says "don't leave me" silence says "I don't have the strength to say the hollow words of my admiration of you." the words would just sound empty and they could never stand alone and mean what I want them to. So I stay silent. Too much of a coward to even open my mouth and explain my silence.

January 29, 2011

2011-01-29T17:47:00.000-08:00

Call me what you will. I'll accept it. I've had a long time to hear anything that could be said. I don't care what you say. I am who I am. I'm not going to let them get me anymore. Call me what you want. Say anything. It won't hurt anymore.

"whore"

"emo"

"mentally disregulated"

I know I'm crazy. You know I'm crazy. If it bothers you than I kindly ask you to leave. You can ask me to change all you want but at the end of the day, I won't. It's not worth it. You aren't worth it.

2011-01-27T14:52:00.000-08:00

LOOK AT ME GOD DAMMIT!
I want you to see me when I'm fine. But you don't. You only see me when I'm hurting. This will only end in tears and anger.

2011-01-27T14:49:00.000-08:00

You're repeating her patterns. And I know, I know, you'll leave me, too. It's the waiting that kills me. I know you'll leave me. Every single one of you are all the same. You'll leave and go on living as if it's nothing. But it is. It's a fucking big deal to me. Because I love you. I have allowed myself to love you and now you are repeating her patterns. I've let you in and now I know....I know....you are going to leave me too.

Just do it. Every moment you stay with me kills me more.

2011-01-17T18:36:00.001-08:00

I loved you. Why did you leave me?

After The Storm

2011-01-15T23:34:00.000-08:00

I know that there will always be a part of me that will be haunted. So to speak. I will always have the little girl in me who cries. Covered in blood. Wishing it was all different. I'm a whole different person than that girl. But she will always be a part of me.

I'm getting used to having her here. I mean, I know she is me, but I am getting used to the fact that she will never go away. I'm a vastly different person than that girl. I never would have imagined myself where I am. Happy. Not just happy....just....with everything in my life right now.

If you had asked my younger self if I was going to grow to be a writer/painter/loved/a muse I would have laughed at you. And I probably would have said something to the affect of "fuck off you cunt." I would never have pictured this as my future. And I guess that's a good thing, had I thought that this would be my future I would probably not ended here. Life always gives us the things we never thought we wanted.

Everything, I want it all. I want my scars and the tears I shed. I want the people I met. I want the people who have hurt me. Oh, that's a big one. I love the people who hurt me the most. For many different reasons, of course. Some of them it's because they hurt me in all the right ways. Beat me so that I could learn and grow from my time with them. I love some of them just because I can't let them go. No matter how bad I was hurt, I can't help but love them. I just can't stop loving them.

And it's stupid, I know. How can I love those people who hurt me most? Maybe it's some sort of Stockholm Syndrome thing. Maybe it's the disorder. Maybe it's just because I love them. And that's that. All the good times outweigh the bad. Like snapshots behind my eyes. I can see them. All the happiness.

And the little girl in me sees it all. Through her tears she sees all the pain. All the happiness. Everything. And I'm getting used to living with her. This is her life too. And one day someone will ask me if I'm okay and she will speak up and say, "no." And he will come back to me. Become me. Be the person we are made to be.

She is me. A disheveled mass covered in blood. It's who I was. I can't try to forget that. I have to embrace it, it's who I am. I'm learning to love her as opposed to hate her because she wasn't strong enough.

"You must know life to see decay,
But I won't rot, I won't rot
Not this mind and not this heart,
I won't rot."

Tin Man

2011-01-13T23:11:00.000-08:00

I take the pills they want me to. Every morning. I'm medicated. Regulated. In the hope that I can be "normal." These pills, they numb me. Make me a zombie. I can't write. I can't paint. I am completely incapable of anything creative or interesting. And really, in the bigger picture, is that better?

I mean sure, one would think I would be better. In theory I am getting better. I haven't felt suicidal. Mainly because I haven't felt anything.

I didn't take my pill today. I felt so free. I was able to paint and cry and just live. And finally, I could feel. I could actually love. Me, the Tin Man, was able to love. And sure, I felt pain too, but I'd live with it if it means I can love again.

I don't know what I'm going to do. I'm almost scared to go off the pills because I don't want to be forced to go back into psych. But I just want the freedom they can't give me. I just want to be happy. Is that so much to ask for?

Maybe I'm almost there. I can feel it today, that I'm almost there. Maybe going to Wales is the best thing for me. I'm not running to anything. I'm not really running from anything. I'm just....trying on a new life. While i still have the chance.

So tell me: what is better? Is better taking pills and being a zombie? Is better not taking the pills and feeling EVERYTHING? What is better? My doctors will say that all this dreaming, moving over seas, is all the mental musings of a madman. That staying on the pills would be best. Keep me from the edges. But who do I listen to? My doctors or me? Because I say better is being on the edges. Safe because I can step back if I want. Feeling free to choose my own path.

Art never comes from zombies. Art comes from madness. And yeah, I'm mad. But dammit, I'm good at what I do. I don't want to give up it.

Better, for me, is being able to cope. That's what I need. Coping skills. I need to be able to deal with all the things that get under my skin. I need to find a way to cope without killing my art, without taking pills, with love.

Love: the best anti-depressant one can get.

This Tin Man, will find things to love. Not necessarily people. I mean, I do love people. But I need to love things, too. Love my art. Love my books. Love the prospects for a future. Love the idea of my Great Perhaps.

I'm reclaiming my heart. now to put it to good use.

2011-01-02T14:29:00.000-08:00

And so I stripped down to my boxers and just lied there crying. Thinking about how over the course of 20 years my life has turned into a two word poem. Love me, it reads. "Love me" the simplest and most complexed action one can have for another. "Love me" because I have never known what that felt like. "Love me" because the words are not enough. They are lies that fall from your lips. Maybe it's the disorder, or maybe it's honestly how I feel, but all I want is for you to love me.

In the darkness of the night, I know somewhere, you never will.

Free

2011-01-01T14:31:00.000-08:00

I'd like to pretend that New Years means anything. It doesn't. It's just another day. Different number, same day. I'm still not healthy. Not really. I tell myself this year will be a year without cuts, smokes, and demons. It's a tall order. I can manage not having another suicide attempt. I think I can mange that. Over all though, I don't think it makes a difference anymore. I'm just trying to survive day by day.

I sat in the park earlier. I do it when i need to think about things I can't bring myself to think at home. I sat there, like most days, smoking. Thinking. Crying. Wishing it would all just go away. It's where I went before I went home and took those pills. I told myself today that I was reclaiming myself. I wasn't going to let past ghosts haunt me anymore. Years of her laughing at me and my downfalls.

I've fucked up my life so many times. How am I still alive?

I told myself that this year was going to be my year of freedom. I'm going to go do those things I always said I would. I am going to let her go. I am going to set her free....well actually I'm going to free myself from her. He said he would help me. I don't know how. But he said he would.

Everything changes this year. Everything. My brother goes into the Army and is moving to South Carolina. My sister, well actually my sister is probably going to stay the same. Stagnant in her marriage and little family unit. But me, no everything about me is changing. I'm going on the adventures I said I would years ago.

One m list of things I want to so before I die is "live in Europe for a year" and I am going to make that happen. I have to seek it. My great perhaps. I have to try and find some adventure. It's why I've been stagnat for these two years. Stalling before I begin my life.

I'm 20, I have to begin my life. I have to stop sitting around waiting for things to happen. I have to make them happen. I'm not like them, my siblings. I can't just go into a career or start a family. I never wanted those things. I'm not a forever kind of girl. I change and evolve and leave and I live for adventure. I live for spontaneous roadtrips with people I've known for all of 5 minutes in the real world. I live for trips to foreign cities, houses, countries.

I continue because it's what I was born for. "I tramp a perpetual journey." I'm a gypsy and a nomad. I go where the wind takes me. I go where I feel safe and where I feel I need to. I may feel like a fuck up in comparison to my siblings. But I'm not. I just don't understand why they want to caged. Freedom, I want freedom. I am a person who loves her freedom.

to whomever cares:

2010-12-30T15:06:00.000-08:00

He touched me. It sounds silly now. Saying it after it's been ages. It wouldn't make a difference anymore. They're just words now. empty words. Hallowed out from years of neglect. Pretending it never happened and I was a over it. But I'm not. I don't think I ever will be. That's how much it fucked me up. He invaded me, stole every piece of me and killed all the parts of me that had any hope of having a good life. A normal life. Well....as normal as I could have been.

I've only told a few people. All of which never gave me any hope of getting better. This poison has been set into me and it will never go away. It's something I will have to live with for the rest of my life.

"touched me" no that doesn't really cover it. He robbed me. He didn't just touch me. He raped me. Took my humanity away from me. He took it all. He took all the hope of every being normal with another person.

He made me into this person who guards her heart too much. Who thinks violent things. He turned me into one of those girls who wants to shoot people and not shoot anyone. Makes me hate myself and everyone around you.

I know you probably don't care. Why would you? I'm just some girl with old wounds and a tired story. I'm just some girl who wants to get it all out there. If only to close that door. I can't move forward when I keep glaring back. I can't love my new "him" when I keep thinking about the old "him."

I can't fall in love properly when I keep thinking about the people in my past who hurt me. Those are the people I miss the most, the ones who hurt me. I'm just that messed up in my mind. I miss them so such. I can remember how he smelled before he raped me. I miss that smell. I hate what he did and how it affects me, but I miss him. How can I miss him?

I feel like a cheat. In the lost hours of endless nothingness I think about how all of this affects me. How it will always affect my future. And I miss them. All of them. The ones who hurt me. The ones who put these scars on my arms. The people I think about when I took those pills. I miss them. I hate them, but I miss them.

One day I'll understand. When I finally break free of this place. One day I can look back and see something other than sadness. Or at least I hope so. I'm still able to hope. It's a thin hope, but it's still there. A membrane of what others feel. Easily popped. One day I will be fixed. Not completely but, a bit. I'll fix myself. Alone.

I'll probably die alone. I'm oddly okay with that. Those around me don't understand. I don't even understand most of the time. As much as I like being with someone I don't think I can ever be with someone forever. I'm not that kind of girl. I will probably die alone because I can't fully fix myself. And I will probably always miss them. And no one I ever be with will be able to handle that.

2010-12-23T20:50:00.000-08:00

‎"You know that place between sleep and awake, the place where you can still remember dreaming? That's where I'll always love you, Peter Pan. That's where I'll be waiting" -Tinkerbell

That's where I'll always love you, always.

Decemeber 23, 2010

2010-12-23T19:37:00.000-08:00

I like being the only person you talk to. The one you call. I like that you are the only person I let call me "Kim."

I have no words to fully express the fact that I love you.

Decemeber 21, 2010

2010-12-21T22:00:00.000-08:00

At the end of the day I still love you. Part of me always will. Even if you did leave me when I needed someone the most. You were one of the best things to happen to me. My Alaska Young. But like Alaska you left without too much warning. You'll always be the moon to my starlight.

But I'm happy. I have a nice network of friends and people who help me when you couldn't. I'm oddly okay with your absence. It's almost like I needed that more than anything. I will carry your words with me forever. And I hope one day you will look back and remember me for who I am and not what I've done. I love you. Just not in the way I thought I did.

This is my goodbye to our friendship. It was great while it lasted. And I did cry over it's loss. Like I lost one of the best parts of me. But I won't mourn anymore. Like a death; I will heal.

And so this is how it will be. I hope you can think back and remember me. Remember why you loved me. Why I loved you. I can't ask you to have part of you love me forever like I will for you. I can't even ask you to forgive me despite how much I say "I'm sorry." All I ask is that you don't forget. The memory of this is all we have left. Hold onto it.

I love you.

2010-12-21T15:31:00.000-08:00

Don't say "I'm sorry" like that. It makes me worry. It's all very ominous. Please don't go to the places I went to. Learn from me. I'm begging you. You know I love you, so stop apologizing. I love you.

2010-12-17T20:49:00.000-08:00

The words are in me. Emotions all in there. But somehow they are a bit out of reach. Too much on my mind. So many things running in there. I have to collect them and maybe they will be fully formed thoughts. Words I can write. Emotions that are solid and not a mass of....stuff.

"1.1.94"

2010-12-17T20:46:00.001-08:00

"Isn't it sick how I thought that I knew you to death?"
-Amanda Fucking Palmer

Decemeber 16, 2010

2010-12-16T09:27:00.000-08:00

I've said I'm sorry. How many more times can I say it? I told you I loved you. How many more times must you hear it?

How many friends must I lose due to my folly? I'm not saying I don't deserve it. I'm not saying I don't understand it. I'm just saying, you were the one who knew me so perfectly. The one who kisses my scars and tells me I'm beautiful. The one who was always there. Until lately.

Lately its been very touch and go. Lots of apologies. Lots of distance. This was the tipping point. There is no going back. One less friendship. It just sucks that it's the one that mattered the most. I can't take it back. Not even if I tried.

There is no going back. I hope one day you understand how much you meant to me.

kimber enters underland, part five

2010-12-15T20:36:00.000-08:00

Sleeping is harsh. You share a room with a woman who is you in 40 years if you don't get better. Your mind won't stop thinking. Just thinking. Nothing in particular is in there, just things. You wake up every few hours to take the medication you pray you can keep down. It will save my life. It is horrid bitter stuff, but it will save my life. You're either too hot or too cold. And no matter what you do all you can feel is a deep longing for your own bed.

The familiar smell of your sheets. Whoever lay there last. Detergent. And the slight sensation of being home. This bed is not my home. I do not feel comfortable here most of the time. But it's the best I've got. A small comfort to keep me from being so complacent that I become a zombie.

The days are long and tedious. But the nights are harsh. I don't think I will ever be able to live in a place like that again. I didn't even know half the time if i wanted to cry or if I was just feeling ill due to the medication. I went to bed pretending I was being held. That I could dream of you and you'd be real again. But it was foolish of me.

No amount of dreaming will bring it all back. Many times I repeated these words for you knowing you wouldn't hear them: "‎You know that place between sleep and awake, the place where you can still remember dreaming? That's where I'll always love you, Peter Pan. That's where I'll be waiting" -Tinkerbell

I'll be waiting for you there. Always. Hoping that the space between dreaming and being awake is there in me. It's hard to think that maybe it won't have that space anymore.

The nights are harsh in there. In the hospital there is not space for me to love my Peter Pan. Just a void. But home I have that place. I am free to speak and cry and hope I could see him one more time without someone always questioning me. Asking why I am the way I am. Why I let old wound fester and infect and become even harsher in the long run.

I am glad to have my own bed. To be free to spray his body spray on my pillow and lay there so I can have him in that space one more time. I think I'll be okay with it later in life. But right now....I just have to take care of me. And this is one way of doing so. To let myself grieve for loves long gone. And then soon I'll be able to move forward. But right now I need me. I need to be alone. I need to take care of myself. So that the nights at home won't be harsh as well.

kimber enters underland, part four

2010-12-14T19:46:00.001-08:00

Apparently I'm supposed to take my recovery a lot harder than I am. Honestly, I feel good. I tried to kill myself. It is what it is. I had a downfall. But I'm still the same person. A smarter version of the same person. I don't want that. It was hell. Am I supposed to still be depressed? I'm not. I feel like I killed the pieces of me that wanted to kill me. The demons, they are gone.

My body aches but my heart and mind are strong. And they will remain so. My spirit cannot be broken forever. And my friends are more of a support than I have even thought off them. I'm not going back. It's not worth it. I have too much to lose if I went back to that place.

So yes, I'm taking my recovery very well. I'm not really seeing it as a recovery. It's more of....a new perspective. I am love. I am loved. And I will live in this house of love for as long as my heart beats.

kimber enters underland, part three

2010-12-14T17:46:00.000-08:00

In the ER they said there was a really big chance I wouldn't live to see the morning. That within a matter of three days my liver could fail and *poof* I'd be gone. It didn't scare me really. Don't get me wrong, I was clinging to life, I wanted to live. But I didn't tell anyone that they said those things. I didn't cry or let the words truly wash over me and my doom set in.

I'm a fighter.

Not even when nicole called me, not 5 minets later, did I give up. I didn't cry to her. I didn't give her any reason to worry any more. Maybe that's why I kept it to myself. I realized how much I scared everyone that I didn't want them to worry anymore.

I had three days. Three days to get as much medication in me as possible to counter the 35 grams of Acetaminophen swimming in my blood. If I couldn't get it low enough I was gone. I would die slowly and painfully as my liver, and slowly my other organs, would stop working. I let them poke me. Take as much blood as they needed. Stab me several times because they couldn't find a vein. I needed that iv. I needed like nothing I've ever needed before.

I'm a fighter.

I momentarily lost myself, but I'll keep fighting. I kept fighting while immobile in a hospital bed and I will keep fighting for as long as I have to.

I only cried once. the moment I got off the phone with nicole. I didn't know how much I cared. How much I was giving up with I give her up. My best friend. My Moony. Not just her, but everyone. Eric, Kelly, the Hannah's, Adam....everyone. I never knew how much I'd meant to them and how much they mean to me. It's the only thing that broke my strength. The thought that I may never see these people again. Never get to hold them, kiss them, tell them I love them.

The pills, they weren't worth it. I have too much love in my life. Too much to give. It would crush them like Heather's attempt crushed me. Always wondering. Always affecting you like an open sore. I won't go back.

I'm a fighter. And I'm keeping it that way.

kimber enters underland, part two

2010-12-13T19:10:00.000-08:00

One of the things that bothered me the most about being in psych was that I was on the wrong side of the desk. I checked myself in. I took the pills they told me to. I was as complacent as one could be. A zombie. But there was a huge thing nagging at me. I was on the wrong side of the desk I was admitted by a friend who is in my English class. One of the nurses, who I ignored as much as I could, was a friend I went to high school with. How did I get to this point?

How did I venture so far off course? It's hard to see people you knew four years ago. Someone you had inside joke with. Someone who was a good friend. And have to force yourself to not talk to each other. It's hard to step outside of that and see look at myself and see what they see. How must I look to those people?

Most of me doesn't care. I needed help. I still need help, but I feel safer at home. With friends and family. My shame is gone.

I'm on the wrong side of the desk. I have to get back to the other side. I have to have plans and set goals and I have to remember why being on the other side of the desk is worth it.

kimber enters underland, part one

2010-12-13T08:12:00.000-08:00

The easiest way to describe it is that it all just collapsed. The bottom fell through. The walls just crumbled. I was once told that I had a steel trap on my heart. Which is true. I keep myself very guarded. Very introverted. I have been getting better for some time to let people in. To love people. But sometimes it all just falls apart. The steel bars on your heart become too constricting, and you can't take them off fast enough. And when they are gone and you can actually feel things again, something invades and abuses that feeling.

I love people. Sometimes I think I love people too much. I cry for them and pray to the god I don't believe in that they will be okay. I put other people's recovery above my own. I didn't even think anything was wrong. Not until I was shoveling as many pills as I could into me. I just wanted it to end.

Why? I've been asked that question so many times over the past couple days. Why? It's hard to explain. Like I said, it all just kind of collapsed. You go out to the park and sit by yourself and hope that the one person you want to hold you shows up. And they never do. You go home, spray his body spray on your pillow and hope he knows you're thinking of him. So far away and so close at the same time.

Close your eyes. Let your mind rest and your head fill with his sent. But soon the dream, the small fraction of hope you had for being okay with the distance, becomes a nightmare. Memories. Flashbacks. Hands.

The one person you want to touch you like that isn't the one doing it. The only person you want to kiss you isn't the one kissing you. Hands everywhere. All over you. All over me. A memory. I thought I was okay with it. That I could just move on and get past it. He abused my body but he couldn't take me. Not all of me. But I was wrong. He did. He took so much more than I thought.

A nightmare laced with the sent of the person I know wouldn't hurt me like that. He deserves better than me. I am far too fucked up for love. The hands stole that from me. And they creep back, I'll let them have me. The demons, hands, whatever you wish to call them. I was willing to let them have me. Living wasn't worth it if I had to be a slave to those hands.

I want hands to hold me. I want to be kissed when I want to be kissed. I don't want to snatched, groped, and touched by someone who is just looking for a drunk fuck. I will not be that girl. In my mind, I thought I didn't deserve hand that hold me either.

"I'll just hurt them" I thought, "I'll hurt them and in the end we will both be damaged. I'd rather it be just me who is hurt."

So I took the pills.

kimber enters underland: an introduction

2010-12-12T20:10:00.000-08:00

I'd be lying if I said I didn't remember any of it. I remember it all. Taking the pills. Laying down to sleep. Hoping I wouldn't wake up. Walking into the ER, being poked prodded and forced to drink charcoal. I remember it all. I know it's only been a couple days since it all went down. and I am still bruised and ache from possible liver damage. But I want to write it. As much as possible. If only not to forget.

I won't say I'm proud. I won't go so far as to say that. But I am glad i did it. In a small way. It forced me to get better. It forced me to take care of me instead of taking care of everyone else. I'm glad I did it. If only because it made me truly realize what I have. What I want. Who I love. Will I do it again? No. Never. I think it's just one of those things that I will only allow myself to go through this one time.

This is my introduction. Over the next few post I will write more. But my arms, hands, and brain hurts so I am just giving you this for now. I won't push myself too far in one sitting and I need some rest. In my own bed. Without a roommate and without someone checking my vitals every few hours and making me drink things that taste like the inside of a toilet. It's a small comfort I want right now. Solitude in my sleep. I am never truly alone. I'll dream of those who love me and feel their phantom arms wrap me, but physically alone is good for right now. And that's all I can ask for.

This too is paper.

2010-12-06T09:09:00.000-08:00

This is not Orlando, or LA. This is not a city people run to. A place to escape and vacation to. This is part suburbia and part nightmare. This is no town for a candle like me. This too is paper. Paper people who live their meager paper lives. A paper town through and through. Paper dreams and fill their paper hearts. I will burn this who place down. I will burn every last one of them because it's my nature.

Over the horizon. Run to the moon. I will flee. I will be free of this place and the lives I've come to hate. Meaningless lives they lead. I will not let them trap me. I can't allow it. They are paper and I am the blaze.

This may not be Orlando. This is not place people flee to and see as a place outside their normal world. But this too is paper.

Decemeber 2, 2010

2010-12-02T20:39:00.000-08:00

For someone who found out hours ago that the internship she longer for isn't going to happen, I'm doing rather well. I spoke to the people up at the Invisible Children office to see why I hadn't even gotten a rejection letter yet. "Maybe I did something wrong." I thought. "I should call and double check to make sure it isn't my fault."

So I did. I called, got HR's voice mail and told them of my predicament. And about an hour or so later they had called me back. Telling me that I had done everything right. It was their fault I hadn't heard anything. They forgot to contact me for an interview. And by now it's too late. There is a chance, a very small chance, that I could get it. So small that I am not even going to cling to it. I told her very politely that I understood. That mistakes happen and that it was okay.

Normally I would be mad. Livid. The VA forgot my paperwork and I have several paychecks that have yet to come to me. I have school enrollment paperwork that people have forgotten about to turn in. Overall, I've been fucked lately. People have forgotten about poor kimber left and right. And normally it pisses me off. But with IC it's different. I've been with them for about 5 years. They gave me a family. I've done so much with them. I have a legit file with them and I know most of the staff members. So when they forget me it hurts more. But I still understand. Things happen and with hundreds of applications it's bound to happen.

I forgive them. I don't know why. Maybe it's because they are my family and I know they didn't do it on purpose. Or maybe it's because I know I have a hundred more options. Many more paths to take. And for once thinking about them doesn't scare me. I don't know what I'm going to do. I could finish off my associates and then go to Uni. I could get a car as soon as my check comes in and flee to god knows where. I could do...anything. I'm so very free.

I've made a list. Things I need to do by May. Some things are larger tasks like "get a car" or "do a campus tour of Evergreen State College" others are smaller things like "spend more time with my brothers" and "go to an art show." Mainly I've decided to stay here for at least one more semester. I know you may think me crazy. why would stay here any longer? This place makes me horribly depressed. But school is my main source of income so I will stay until I have a car and a slightly larger pocket of money. One more semester to spend on the people I need to see. The small and simple things I need to get done.

They may call me crazy. They may think me deranged to only stay in school for the money. But honestly I call that life. I could seek the Great Perhaps on nothing. I suppose I could do that. But all these doors are open. I think I should stay put for a while. Look at what is around me and try to not go mad at it's drabness. I could just leave. I don't see why I can't do that. But there are still people I need to see grow a bit more. Siblings that I need to tell I love them and mean it. I could be the sister who runs away and you never hear from again. I could be the sister who doesn't know her brothers. I already have accepted my label as the family crazy. So might as well stick around so at least one of my brothers has faith in me.

I do know one thing. Between now and May I will write a book. I don't know what it will look like. And I don't know how long it will be. But I will write a book. It's what I was born to do. I am not going to fight my destiny. I'll embrace it and I will love every piece of it.

I've done my crying over the lost internship. I've grieved it's loss and have realized just how much I wanted it. But there is so much more out there for me. If this isn't meant to be, then it's just not meant to be. I'll live. I know I'll be put on the right path soon. I just have to wander about in the dark a little longer. It will all be okay....soon. And if I do get a call and I hear the words that I do get to take part in this internship. Great, I'll be there in a heartbeat. But I won't count on it. Everyone said they were sure I'd get it. And I'm sure if I had that interview I would have, but I didn't. So maybe that's not where I need to be.

2010-11-28T21:23:00.000-08:00

"I go to seek a Great Perhaps."
I repeats the words like a mantra. Cling to them like a vice. Constant reminder of why I am doing all of this. I'm so happy to put a phrase to my feelings.

November 28, 2010

2010-11-27T23:46:00.000-08:00

I'm feeling better. I still have a feeling that telling him no was a bad choice but it will subside. It's a passing thing. My heart isn't too broken. Because I know why I did it. And he knows why I did it. And soon we will both come to terms with the fact that it was the right thing to do.

I'm a bit sad. But this is my adventure. It's not our adventure. It's my Great Perhaps. I have to at least start my journey alone. No one else can be in my shoes. In my mind. In my heart. I have to be selfish and I have to be alone. He doesn't understand that. But I don't expect him too.

I am the phoenix. And my song right now may be filled with sadness, but my tears are filled with hope and healing. I'm just brushing the ashes away. I have to take this leap and fly before I burst into flames again.

Man Eater

2010-11-26T23:07:00.000-08:00

"I've fallen in love, but now's not the time."

It feels so very wrong to tell him that I can't be with him. But I know I can't rob him of whatever happiness will come out of him being free of me. It feels horrible to hear him cry. Like I made the wrong choice. But I know it's the right thing to do. It's not that I don't want to be with someone. It's that right now isn't a good time. So much of my life is changing. So many paths in my view. I think I have to take them alone.

I have been crying alone for the past few hours. He was so right for me. But I can't ask him to stay and watch me find my perhaps while he merely follows. I have to do this. It's what's right for him. And it's probably what's right for me. I can't go on this internship with him in my head. I have to be as free as I can. As present as I can. I have to choose me.

"He'll mend and soon move along and leave me behind"

It feels so very wrong. But I know it's not. This was the right thing to do. I have to pick me. I can't pick us. I can't pick him. I have to pick me. I have to focus on me and I have to let him move along. He will find someone. He was so right for me. But right now I'm not right for him. Maybe one day our paths will merge. Maybe one day we can see each other again with out sadness engulfing us when we see each other.

So I go, and I am free. I hope I get this. I hope that in the end I won't feel like a fool for saying goodbye. I hope that I get this internship and it will be worth all the empty words I said. I hope one day my love life won't be a crime scene. Filled with butchered hearts and broken promises.

I keep looking at the videos. I reread the letters. I think about everything I'm fighting for. Everything I'd be a part of. And I keep looking at him. Everything I could have with him. Which do I choose? I choose the movement. The war. I have to pick being alone and lonely to do whats right in the world as opposed to what's right in my heart. Some hearts need to be broken. Because what I am working for....it's bigger than him and I. It's more valuable than chances on love. I am changing the world. And I can't do that when I'm caged by possible love. I hope he'll come to understand this. I have to go alone. I can't go with the extra baggage of us.

So yes, it feels wrong. And yes, I am tired of being lonely. And yes, I do want to try love on with him. But I can't. Not yet. Maybe in 6 months when I'm home. Maybe in a year when I move away. But I'm not betting on it. He will find someone else. I know it. And it pains me to think of it, but I know she'll be the right girl. Someone who doesn't have to pick between herself and them. Someone who doesn't need to go on a mission to find herself. Someone who won't break his heart.

"Don't want a cage, so freely I fly. Alone in the heavens, alone there I'll die."

The Great Perhaps

2010-11-23T23:33:00.000-08:00

From birth we were bonded. Separate but equal. In pain we began to trust. To lie all we have into the rush of the pain. We chase the pain. Look for it. Long for it. The pain reminds us we are alive. But I am growing. In aspects you are not. You are an inch when I am a foot. this journey is mine I must leave you behind.

Twins no longer.

I still chase it. I probably always will. But I am learning to run for more. To search for more. I chase after the moon. It's soft light of happiness. Happiness, my new drug. I will cling to it like a vice. Chase after pain in small binges. It's a process.

"I go to seek a Great Perhaps" he said.

I want it. I want a perhaps. I want to chase the maybe. I want to look for the impossible and prove I am worthy. I tramp my perpetual journey no longer for pain, I go for my perhaps. No one knows where it will take me. I don't even know where to begin. But I know it will be great. And I promise that I will find it. I don't want to die to start looking for it. It's here.

So I part from you. My loving twin. I hope you find your way and go forward and look for it too. But I can't wait for you to realize that this journey cannot be taken with pain. And I no matter how many times I tell you, I know you won't hear. You have to learn on your own. And I will watch you. But I choose me. I choose the labyrinth. Just because you are in the labyrinth doesn't mean you are stuck. I hope you learn that.

I go. I free myself from your cage and I venture forth. I will find it. I promise you that. I will spend my whole life looking for the perhaps as opposed to finding a way out of this labyrinth. And it will be beautiful. I will no longer take my life as a study on fixing you. I will never fix you. So I will leave you. Let you fix yourself and when you are ready, I stop somewhere waiting.

Artists House

2010-11-23T23:15:00.000-08:00

In the house where artists dwell. That is where I live. The house that holds all my secrets and tells all my lies. Captures all my crazy. And possibly, quite possibly, it captures all the sanity within.

The house where artists dwell. That where I will die. In a sea of inspiration. Energy passing by. The moon be our companion. Our only guiding light. Take this pain. This mangled mass of life. And with it, make our greatest gifts. Our contributions to the world and then we shall parish. Leaving behind a legacy of lies formed from the truth.

I am sad to say I must leave you. I'll carry your key on my bones. It pains me to leave you. But I must. I will always live there. Impressions in the walls encase me in. Parts of me will come back to you. Parts I have yet to discover.

The house where artists dwell. Will be nothing but a lonely den. More artists will come and settle in. Rest their weary hearts and heads. Create wonders the world longs to see after I am gone. The house where artists dwell hold everyone eve known. So even if the room is lonely, it is never alone.

In the ground and under the dirt, the moon will still guide. Sharing my gifts with the after life. One day a helpless person will happen upon you. Ask where he shall live. And discover that all along, he too has the gift. He will no longer take things on second and third hand and he will no longer wish to be his friends. He will be great and you and I and all the ghosts in this house, will show him how to live.

The house where artists live. Is open to all. Will you join me in it?

November 22, 2010

2010-11-22T14:10:00.000-08:00

I am starting to feel like it isn't worth it. That I should just let him disappear into the abyss. All the words and thoughts and things I have to say have no impact. He acts like no one else in the world could ever feel how he does. He doesn't understand being equal. It hurts knowing that he doesn't see what I see. It hurts knowing that I can't help him. Knowing that all that I've been through, all the things I've learned, they mean nothing to him. I said it before, I can't save him. He has to save himself. But honestly, I can't watch another friend die. I can't....I just can't....do it.

This must be what others see in me sometimes. Always telling me "there is nothing wrong with you...you are beautiful...the world will see...you are great....amazing..." I have ton wonder. Is it worth it? Do i just give up? I don't want to. I believe in him. I do't believe in a lot of people, but I believe in him. What do I do? Keep telling him the things I believe, bother him with my words despite the fact he can't see their true meaning? Do I just stop. Give him what he wants. It's a tough call. Part of me wants to just quite, too many letters asking him to understand. Beautifully written words trying to reach out and not get sucked into his abyss.

But part of me can't. If he was just another person, someone I didn't know, maybe I could stop. But I know him. I know his pain. And no amount of space will stop me from caring. I am infinite, I know no distance.

I guess I will just have to keep trying. Hoping something gets through and that keep my eyes out for the worst.

"There's good in all of us and I think I simply love people too much, so much that it makes me feel too fucking sad." -Kurt Cobain

Perfectly Flawed

2010-11-21T20:33:00.000-08:00

I wish you could see. Hear....understand. I wish all the things you say to me you took as things for yourself. I wish when you tell me life is worth it, you could honestly agree. There is absolutely nothing wrong with us. We are people. We have flaws. We have baggage and we have needs. THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH YOU!

All the things "they" hate about you, I find wonderful. All the things those people broke your heart about, I find adorable. All of those things you want to fix are the things I want to love. I love your flaws. I love your cracks and I want to be the person who makes those promises to you. I want to be the person who you admire like I admire you. But there are several things wrong. Distance. Future prospects. And the fact that I can't make you love me.

And even then I'd still want to be with you. If you didn't love me then I would still be your friend. I'd still be the cheerleader. The one who is outside watching you become something great. I wish I could be your mirror.

Open your eyes, I'm standing right here. And I can promise you there is nothing wrong with you.

"Your perfectly flawed. You're perfectly incomplete. Like cracks in the glass and faded photographs." -Otep

November 21, 2010

2010-11-21T10:02:00.000-08:00

I really wish I could just reach out and shake you. Yell in your face "open your eyes you idiot. I'M STANDING RIGHT HERE! I WANT TO MAKE THIS WORK!" But I won't. Because we are both scared and it could be a huge mistake or it could be completely worth it. And I want to make it work. But at what price? What will I have to pay to have you? Everything is changing and nothing is certain. And that terrifies me.

2010-11-20T18:18:00.000-08:00

I never asked you to love me. I never asked you to understand. All I wanted was for you to not judge me. I'm so much more then what I wear on my skin. Please don't hate me because of my mental instability. I do the best I can.

Sirius vs Kimber

2010-11-20T13:49:00.000-08:00

I'm not going to lie. Life is been a bit weird lately. This blog is more form my serious musings. Things. I think in the dead of night and keep me up. I don't want to redesign my blog. To make into something completely different. But anyone who knows me, or at least has met me knows, that that is just one piece of me. I'll be it, it's a huge piece of me. But it's not all of me.

I'm Kimber, I am a nerd. I am one sarcastic, nerdy, overly enthusiastic, troubled girl. I stay up all night just to see a movie. I make witty jokes on Twitter and I cry when someone dies in Harry Potter. I'm proud of that. I like having a wand can calling myself Sirius. It's kind of my alter ego. It's who I am when I'm not being the girl in the blog. The one who is terrified of the future. And troubled by the past.

It's been a weird few days for me. Between having an overwhelming sense of self loathing and the nerdy adventures, I don't know who I am. I know it's possible to be more than one thing. I'm so much more than words on chalkboard. I'm more than a girl covered in fake blood in the bathroom. But talking to friends one night, crying, asking how they ever made it out of the abyss. And then seeing a whole separate group of people the next to be who I am when I'm not this girl. It kind of confuses me. I have two separate friends, for two separate lives, and only a handful mix in between.

It's like trying to find out who Margo is when she isn't Margo.

It's like trying to find a way to make two pieces fit together when the belong to different puzzles. No one knows who they are all the time. But I'm trying. Jekyll and Hyde can live together, I'll make it possible.

We're Safe

2010-11-16T21:38:00.000-08:00

Someone I've never met. Someone I only know in my computer. She comforted me all day until finally I could breath again. Going to school, doing mundane things kept my mind off my dream. Off my reality. But it was still there polluting my brain and attacking me when I thought I was safe. He won't win. I won't let him.

She's been there too. My adopted online sister and friend. Somehow the universe wanted us to meet. to give each other support. To let each other know that despite distance, we are here for each other. Who says you can't have true friendships online?

Collectively we felt relief. Felt the weight of our anxiety and demons leave us. Collectively we were told that we were safe. That's the art of being connected. Meeting people who you are destined to know. Meeting people who gives you a shoulder to hold onto. Who says they have the sign that we need not worry. That today we will not let our demons get us. We are safe.

Today, we are safe.

3 AM

2010-11-16T01:18:00.000-08:00

I't almost 3 am. It's almost 3 am and I am awake. Dreams, such horrible things sometimes. It's 3 am and I just woke up screaming, violently screaming. Because I had a dream about a serial rapist/murderer. I won't go into much detail. I'll just leave it at this, he kept asking if I could see [her] a friend who, in the real world, was raped about a week before I was. Can I see her? Right now? I can see her with sharp images and a hot hatred that she could stop this, at least in my dream. I don't blame her for what happens in the real world.

But aren't they the same? Probably. That would explain my uncontrollable urge to be held by someone trusting, to take a shower and wash him from my skin. The want to not fall back asleep, not tonight. Later when the demons are distant memories, I will sleep.

I don't know what scares me most. The fact that in my dream I had to kill him to get away, or that I almost didn't. There was a point, a very clear point, when I released my fingers from my throat almost from sympathy. Letting go to let him live. But I didn't. I jammed my fingers into his carotid arteries and held them there for several minutes. 4-6 minutes without oxygen and the brain will stop working. When it was all over I didn't feel justified, I didn't feel like I had won. I just felt small. And lonely. Like even in my dream world I knew no one would come over and hold me.

Maybe he didn't die. Just became a vegetable. I don't honestly care. Because right now all I can think is "fuck it was so vivid. I can feel his hands on me now. I wish someone was here or would answer their phones. I need someone to cry to. I always let people cry to me but today I need an ear."

I feel like a little girl. Writing this all out, with all the lights on, crying, just so I can't forget. I feel so weak for wanting to be held and be told that it will all be right. Even if it's a lie. Right now it's a lie I want to believe in.

"I believe in dreams. I believe that every night on the planet everything that is, was and can be is dreamt. I believe that what happens in dreams is no less important than what happens in the waking world. I believe that dreams are the closest equivalent present-day mankind has to time travel. I believe you can visit your past, present, and future in dreams. I believe I've dreamt half of my life that hasn't happened yet. I don't believe in chance, accident, or coincidences. I believe that the things I talk about change the world around me and result in events that appear to be coincidental. I believe that my life is so important that it affects the lives of everyone else. I believe I am God. I believe that everyone is their own God. Be your own hero. Your heaven or hell is here on earth. It's up to you which one you choose. But the time is now." ---From The Long Hard Road out of Hell...

2010-11-14T21:29:00.001-08:00

I read your email from June over and over again. And I wish, selfishly, that it wasn't too personal to share. It's beautiful, like you. I'll hold these words with me forever.

November 14, 2010

2010-11-14T20:28:00.000-08:00

I won't pretend that I'm not a bit of a fuck up. I won't lie to myself and say that at the end of the day I don't burn bridges and let the fire trail behind me. When it all comes down to it, I am a hazard. Combustible and dangerous. I won' deny it. I'm probably addicted to the flames. I don't know how to live without them. The fire is all I know. Fan the flames and let them lick my skin. Warm to the touch. Delusional, I am. It's not warm, it's hot. Burning. It will kill me. But I can't give it up. I have to fan the flames.

I'm probably addicted to pain. But I am trying to get better. I've finally found a mirror. A way of learning how others see me. I'm finally able to see what this disaster looks like on the outside. So, yeah, I'm probably too emotionally attached to being hurt. But I am finally able to step outside of myself, truly step outside of myself, and see what the world see's of me. In helping him I help myself. In every word I tel him I learn something new about myself. So I guess it's good I didn't date him. Because I can help him from a distance, a safe distance. I can learn about myself and help him but I won't feel like it's all on me. That taking on his pain is my responsibility.

It's not on her either. But it's a support system that is less likely to fail. When I crumble there is someone else there. A tripod.

Maybe I am addicted to pain. Maybe I don't know how to stop fanning the flames and let my fire die down. Maybe I am scared to be happy. I was always told happiness was for other people. Those who deserve it. I don't deserve it, or so that's what I was told. I'm learning. I have the right to be happy just like everyone else. I'm trying to stop running from happiness. To not let pain be my default. I'm getting better. I am a thousand times better than I was a year ago. And a hundred times better than I was a few months ago. I'm getting better. With every day and every breath I am getting better.

The Art of Being Connected

2010-11-12T00:51:00.000-08:00

I am never truly alone. I can feel them in me. Filtering through my body. I can feel them suffer. I wake up some nights screaming because I know they are about to do it. Somewhere out there, in places I don't know. I can feel them hurt. I can see in my mind, almost as if I am that other person, the images they see right before they do it. The jump in front of the train to kill themselves. The knot around their necks and greasy guns places inside their mouths.

I wake up screaming some nights. Yelling. Crying. Because even though I don't know them, I know what they are seeing. What they are feeling. It's almost as if I am cohabiting inside someone else. Not the past or the future, but the right now. The connectedness I have with the world gets inside my brain and makes me break because I can't do anything.

I don't know them. But if I did, I might try and save them. In a spur of the moment I might physically tackle them and stop them from taking the leap. I go all day, sometimes, crying because I wish I could save them. The children in the field of rye. But I'm not the catcher and that's not how the poem goes.

I can feel him in my blood whether he knows it or not. I can sense his pain and I can tell when he is going to do it. I go all day, when I see what you see, hurting because this one I know. This person I could have stopped. And I didn't, because I can't. I can't save you even when you live in my blood. I can't stop the train from hitting and I can't stop you from suffering. But maybe, just maybe, one day I can be the catcher.

Maybe when I am older and learn to save me, I could be the one who keeps the kids from the cliff. I could use my connectedness for good. I can feel your pain and help you though it.

The Art of Being Alone

2010-11-11T20:16:00.000-08:00

A lot of times i sound like a cynic because I am a realist. A realistic dreamer on of my teachers once called me.

I don't want to be in a relationship. Not yet. I have to learn to be alone. I have to be comfortable with alone. I have to learn to put all my hopes in myself. I know that if I don't do these thigns, that if I start being with someone before I am mentally ready. I will fail.I have to prepare for the worst and hope for the best. And the worst is that I put all of myself into a person and they will leave. Stealing all my faith in me.

"I'm glad she is helping you. But (and I don't want to sound like a hopless being) you can't place all your hopes on one person. You have to start putting your hope into yourself....It's why I'm not in a relationship. I have to learn to be on my own. Believe in myself. Another person will just make me put all of my hopes into them and then if something were to go wrong, I am fucked." -Kimber to Adam

And it's true. I don't think i can make it if I put all of myself into a person again. I have to master the art of being alone first. I like alone. I don't love being alone. But I am growing to like it more. It's the only time I am free to do as I wish. To not think that I said something wrong and have my hopes driven away.

I'm growing to like alone. And the more I like alone the more I like myself. I have had a lot of time to think about me. About why I like myself. Why I want to like myself. Why I don't care anymore if someone doesn't like me. There are people who aren't' going to like you. There are people who don't want to be near you, hug you, talk to you, hate your art. The world is filled with those people. But the important thing is that at the end of the day, you do what feels right for you. You hold onto those who believe in you and you hold onto the belief in yourself and you never let ANYONE get under your skin and make you doubt yourself.

This, I believe, is the art of being alone. It's finally letting yourself come to terms with the fact that you need to love yourself. If you can't love you, no one can. The art of being alone is being able to think about the future and not fear it. To dream of great things and finally getting the chance to chase them. The art of being alone is the ability to sell everything you have, apply for an internship and flee to freedom. To be a gypsy. I am starting to master the art of being alone. And it's an art I think I am in love with.

Be My Mirror

2010-11-11T20:02:00.000-08:00

He has become my mirror of sorts. Though I would never tell him. Crying on the phone to him telling him all the things I never knew needed to be said to me. Telling him that I care, that I am his friend. That at the end of the day I will be here. But I can't save him. I can't take away his pain and I can't...no won't...allow myself to watch another friend die.

I'll be support and a reminder that there are people out there that care. That I won't leave his side. I am a faithful companion until I have reason not to be. But I can't save him. I won't try. I have to take care of me. I have to save me. I have to let my wounds heal before I can clot the wounds of others.

Crying on the phone with him has made me realize how the people around me see me. How despite the fact that I think my friends will leave, they won't. Just like I won't leave him. I can't save him but maybe I can help him realize he needs to save himself. A person of the highest empathy and understanding. I can do that.

I've Failed

2010-11-09T11:13:00.000-08:00

I can't save myself let alone save you. I have to be an innocent onlooker this time. It will hurt more if I try to save you, help you, and fail. Than it would if I just let you go down the path and get hurt.

I tried to help. I did. But what did that get me? Calls early in the morning telling me what I was fearing. I failed. Everything I had done was no use. That my companionship was not enough to keep you away from the ledges. I went all day today crying because I had failed. I can't watch another friend die, but I also can't hold my arms out to try and pull you away. I have to take care of me. I'm already fragile enough. I don't think my heart can carry other people's baggage. I won't try anymore.

I know you need a friend. And I can be that person. I know you wish things were different. That somehow we could turn back the clock and be those innocent kids again. But we can't. We have to take what we have and we have to survive. On our own. Be independent with friends as support, not people to hold all our hope in. We have to have hope in ourselves.

I know, big words for a girl who struggles with these kind of things too. But the difference is, I'm learning. I'm growing. I'm trying to not let these things get me. To worry about the future. What happens happens, there is no stopping it. So might as well just go with it. Feel what you feel but don't let those feelings control you. Push you to edges and want to jump.

November 9, 2010

2010-11-09T01:05:00.000-08:00

I'm not going to tell you to not feel anything. To cut your emotions off. I've lived my life like that. I'm not going to say that you shouldn't cry, scream, hate the world. But I will tell you that you will always and I mean always, have an ear to listen to you. A companion to help you. A friend, who knows your pain.

I'm not the kind of person who will leave you when you need me most. But if you want to suffer. Than I will let you do that too. If you want to come see me and live in collective misery. I will let that happen as well. I care too much to let you be alone. You may be lonely. But I won't let you be alone.

I wonder if this is what people feel about me when I get into one of those moods. Where I hate everything about my life. Where I cry all day and cut all night. Do they harbor this collection of anger and sadness that they can't help? Do they think "I swear to god if you kill yourself I will resurrect you and kill you again." Do they fear for me like I fear for you?

I wish I didn't have to fear for you. I wish I could just sit with you, listen to you cry. I wish I had the words you need to hear and the arms you need to hold. I wish, more than anything, to see you smile. I won't say those words that everyone says "time heals all wounds...this too shall pass...everything will be better...look on the bright side_" no those will just hurt more than anything. Clichés.

I won't tell you those things. But I will tell you, my heart hurts for you. And I miss you. And one day, secretly, I want to see that smile again and remember a time when our lives weren't like this. I love you

Doctor

2010-11-07T00:01:00.000-07:00

I was feeling pretty great today. I went out. I got gifts. Even being social, instead of being my normal introverted self. I was feeling good. And then I realized I need to make a doctors appointment. It's mainly a check up and to make sure my blood work is all good and normal...I mean I made it for a different reason but it's a bit person and I'm sure you don't want to know about it.

But as I sat down and got the number so I could call them on Monday to make an appointment I thought, "shit my arm. It is severely worse than it was last time I saw her. My scars from then are faded and nearly unnoticeable. These ones are pink and angry and....what do I say?" I mean I'm sure she must somehow know that I've been to therapy and was never put on any kind of anxiety pills. That I have a history of this and over the past six months or so it has obviously gotten worse."

I'm the kind of person who doesn't even trust her doctor. The person you go to when you have Swine Flu and see to make sure you don't have some sort of serious injury when you faint in the shower and dislocate your shoulder. I barely trust myself. How can I trust a doctor? But that may just be something I have made up in my mind since I read 1984 really young and am now obsessed with dystopian societies.

Do you talk to your regular doctor about anxiety issues? Or can she not help me with that? And if I do say something, cause obviously she will see the evidence of my mental illness, will she have me put on pills? Have me forced to see a therapist again. I can't afford a therapist. I can't even afford to eat most of the time. Will she see my weight loss as another sign of my self inflicted anxiety?

I'll admit it, I'm kind of terrified that she will call someone and have me committed. On the outside I look like I'm going insane. But inside I am doing great. I am getting better. I swear. Will pills help me? Or will they stunt all my new found creativity? Will having me committed actually be a bad thing? Maybe I need to be in a hospital. Maybe I need to be looked over and be treated and analyzed. Some people willingly go into hospital. Should I be one of those people?

Honestly, above all else, I'm scared of what that place will do to me. That in the end I will just become another brainwashed victim. A girl with a mental illness. A girl they convince is fixed. A girl who is nothing but a shell of the girl I am. I like the girl I am. I mean sure I have problems. But over all I like me. I am getting back into music and I write all the time. I am really happy for the prospect of going into the world and seeing what I can provide it and it can provide me.

But one person, other than me, can stop all of that. It only takes one person to crush you. To break you. To make you sit on a couch and talk about what is truly wrong with you and convince you that you are better when really you are the same person you always were. Always will be. When I'm afraid I fear the worst. I should really stop that. I should just let things happen as they may. But my doctor terrifies me, because in the end she has more power of me than I would like any single person, other than myself, to have.

Alone

2010-11-05T18:45:00.000-07:00

I'm not that lonely. I'm alone a lot. But I'm not lonely. I still have my friends. I still have some kind of life. I still have people who love me. so yes I'm alone. Yes I like it. Because alone can be beautiful. Alone is the only time you don't distort yourself for others. Even when you don't know you do it. Alone you can practice your art and reflect. the only time you are truly able to think. To tell yourself the things you want to hear. The things you wish to hear. The things you know are true despite the fact no one tells them to you.

Alone is healing. It's when the sores close and the scars vanish. When you can finally let all those things you are running from go away. Wen you can finally lie down your heart and no one can come and smash it. Alone is nice. Alone lets you be /do/think/ anything you want. Alone is when you can cry and move on from all the broken promises and meaningless "I'm sorry's." Alone is when you can just let what ever you feel out. No masks. No lies.

Alone you can read those old emails and pray times were that simple again. Or read books with piano's playing and let your mind go somewhere else. Alone you can dream big without being afraid of people thinking you are silly.

I like alone. Alone is only lonely if you make it. If you allow the lonely to consume you and pollute your mind.

2010-11-05T15:56:00.000-07:00

I have this image in my head. It's been there all day. It's me. A tangled mess. Trying to free my foot from the vines. I love the vines. They connect me with the world. But the beautiful thing about the vines is that I can let them go. But not this time. This time I'm stuck. Pulling and yanking. Desperate to free myself. I pull so hard until I just give up. Collapse to the ground and let them chain me. I am their the prisoner. No longer the free Fey.

These vines are you. Twisting the world from what I've taught you into what you want it to be.

János vs Wonderland

2010-11-05T13:34:00.000-07:00

I'll run with you and be your companion. A friend and freedom. Remembrance of what it felt like to be with someone and not touch. Not talk. Just live. To stretch out on the ground with someone and feel infinite. To sing without words and fly without wings. I'll show you the world you've been looking at your whole life with different eyes. A lamb by day and tiger in the night. I'll show you what you have been looking for but never knew you were looking for it. Don't be fearful of me. I am a delicate thing when it's appropriate. But I also know how to truly live. To feel the earth under my bare feet and be intertwined with it's complexity. To stand still and become a tree. To jump in the ocean and become a shark.

Can you feel them? The vines consuming your whole body. Let them have you. Open your heart and your mind to them. Let them take you into the earth so you can filter and fiber the world. So you can be free in the purest form. Become a muddy mass in the soil and let the world grow from you. Grow with you. Feel the animals and the people in your soul. Let them live with you. Hunt with you. They are just as fascinating as you. And they love you just as much as you love them.

The world is your reflecting mirror. Showing you it's complexity and interconnectedness. You are the world and the world is you. You are me, and I, I am all. So run with me. Touch me with your soul and not your lips. Speak to me with your heart and not our words. Let me teach you how to be free. And in turn you will teach me the same.

Journal entry from October 24, 2010

2010-11-05T13:16:00.000-07:00

As much as I belive in freedom...the freedom to believe what you wish. The freedom to love who you want. Marry who you want. Wear/read/say what you want...as much as I believe in those things I am not the person to stand up and fight. I like taking a silent route. The marter's route. I dont think I can help others fin freedom until I find freedom with myself.

that being said, I keep putting myself into these boxes. Saying "I won't do this." Limiting my heart adn mind. To stifle my feelings. i need to stop that. i need to just let myself feel what I feel and be stupid. Even if it means fallign for boys who live half the planet away. Even if it means possibly getting hurt by boys who live half a planet away. I just need to be me. All of me.

I am just going to be me. Even if that means being scared of what is to come with OED. It's going to happen. I might as well just let it happen. I love them. And I will always be with them. Always standing on the outside looking in. Watching them burn bright and help take away the darkness. I'm ready to let go.

November 5, 2010

2010-11-05T10:21:00.000-07:00

Can a person care too much? Can a heart be too heavy? Helping shoulder other people's burdens, can a heart bleed too much? Can a person love too much? I think I've hit the tipping point. Where my heart is too filled with other people's pain. Other people's problems. Love for people I know I can't help but have to do everything in my power to make it better, just becomes too much.

Is there a point that I don't know about that I'm supposed to stop at? I don't want to fix him. His broken pieces re so beautiful. But I don't want him to hurt. I don't want her to live with her family because the beat her and she is the most wonderful person. But I can't get her out of there. His father is ill. His father is very ill. His father is all he has left and he is probably going to die. And I don't live close enough to give him a hug. To hold him as he has panic attacks.

My heart hurts. It hurts so much. I think it may explode. I think I care too much about people.

Menstrual Case

2010-11-04T17:59:00.000-07:00

Take a midol with some water.
Everything will be alright.
I am beautiful, someone told me once.
Maybe on the inside.
Put some makeup on.
Hide behind a mask.
Wonder which to wear today.
I am ugly. someone told me once.
What an honest thing to say.

-Kimberly Freeman

Kimber's Soapbox

2010-11-04T17:47:00.000-07:00

I've gone most of the day feeling amazing. It may be due to the fact that I haven't eaten and slept in a few days. It's probably due to the delirium of that. I think I'm going deranged with all I am taking on right now. Trying to forget him. Okay maybe not "forget" but move on. Doing school work and try to capture all the words that are flowing in my restless mind.

Words of hate and redemption. Words of encouragement and confusion. Everything is flowing in my mind right now. Faces of people I haven't seen in years are bubbling up in me. All the things I never said. All the things I would have said. The moments when i held my tongue and walked away when I wish I would have just flat out yelled at you. How could they hurt me? How could I let them?

Takes a skilled person to brainwash yourself. They didn't do this to me. I did. I've been perfecting this skill for years. It started with the very obvious father issues. But I won't go into that. That's for some other time. But I let it build in me. I let them beat me into submission because I was never taught different. "This is love Kimber. You're fat and ugly. You'll never amount to anything. You're sister is going to be famous and you are going to be a lonely cat lady. You should give up now. JUST GIVE UP JUST DO IT ALREADY. JUST PULL THE TRIGGER DAMN IT!"

I know different now. I went my whole life letting them talk to me as if I was nothing. I won't let them do it now. I can't. I have to stand up for myself. I have to fight for myself. Fight for what I believe in. Personal freedom. The freedom to say "I'm not skinny but damn it I love my size. I'm not 'beautiful' but I like my ugliness. I may not have plans for my life but I will be someone amazing. Someone you wish you knew. My sister might have a good voice but she isn't using it. I at least try to make something with my talents. I don't like cats. I won't give up. I'll give up when I want to give up, not when you tell me to. I'm my own person."

I've been told lots of time to "just do it already" and obviously I didn't. If I "do it" I'll do it for me. Until then just look away. Don't listen to me. Sit in your own self hatred and leave me be. I won't take it anymore. Will I fall from this stance? Yes, I know I will. It's inevitable. No one can be happy with themselves all the time. But the longer I keep this up the easier it will get. I won't run from my problems. I will take them head on. I will deal with them and move on. I won't read the messages he sends me saying he still wants to be my friend. That he didn't mean it. I won't let one person effect me so.

Because I am awesome. When I am not under the mess of pain I put upon myself I am a great person. I do charity work. I survived when many couldn't. I have friends who are almost family who love me and speak of me when I'm not around. Who can see who I am and who I will become. I trust them. I lay my faith in them. Thank you for being very kind to me.

Part 46

2010-11-04T02:27:00.000-07:00

"Everything will be alright"

I have faith in the whole charade. The back and forth movements of my heart. The soft war drums and siren song emotions. I am going to have faith in it. I'm going to let the future take me where it please. To whom it pleases. All road lead somewhere. Maybe I don't know where that somewhere is. Maybe the journey is long and potentially dangerous. I'm scared, I can admit that. But I won't let that keep me from going forward.

I'll take the mask off and learn to love what's beneath it. I will get my heart broken, and my dreams crushed. But that's okay, because that's what has to happen. I don't know what all this is leading up to. Where I will end up in life. What I'll end up doing. But I know that this is all part of the big picture. That one day I can look back at being 19 and say "man I was such an idiot for falling for that boy" or "Those adventures, and people I love made me who I am. I'm glad I lived a life outside of the norm."

I'll wear short sleeves and not care what people say about my arms. I will make last minute decisions to either go back to school or work for a charity. I won't worry to much what I am doing with my life. I have plenty of time to figure that out. Plenty of people who give me mental support. Cheerleaders. Friends. Loyal companions.

I'm just going to be me.

"I tramp a perpetual journey...

Not I, not anyone else can travel that road for you,
You must travel it for yourself.

It is not far, it is within reach
Perhaps you have been on it since you were born and not know,
Perhaps it is everywhere on water and on land."

-Walt Whitman
-Song of Myself, Part 46

"Oh I get it, I'm rocks."

2010-11-03T20:13:00.000-07:00

I am done with my spiteful anger. It's not worth it. My energy is best used for other things. In the end it was just a self-fulfilling prophecy. Another form of hurting myself. But it's okay. I have to make mistakes, right? How can one grow without making mistakes?

giving up my pity party is been very constructive. I've been playing piano off and on all day. I've even wrote some music. Which I may or may not post here. I've decided to take an "I'm awesome no matter what" stance. Because i am going to become a rock. To love myself and not let others hurt me. I will wake up in the morning and remember that I am something great. Even when no one is telling me that I am, I am still amazing.

I'll try and keep this up for as long as I can. As of right now I feel infinite. Like a true artist.

Also this sculpture makes me want to write and paint a million different things.

"Ghost Girl" by Kevin Francis Gray

2010-11-03T11:30:00.000-07:00

I know I say that i want you to be happy. Which I do. But did you ever think about my happiness? It'd be a lot easier if you weren't rubbing it in my face. If you didn't taunting me. I hope she's worth it. That the words of love to her are real and you are happy. I'll deal with my pain. I'll avoid my computer. Read books and try to ignore you and your new found love. I guess it's all or nothing. You picked nothing. And I will rearrange my heart so I can get rid of my hope for all.

2010-11-03T11:23:00.001-07:00

It seems like my life is a billion word study on masochism.

"It not the way i'm made to be it's just the way the operation made me."

I'm not going backwards

2010-11-02T20:15:00.000-07:00

"One day you will look in the mirror and see what we see. Someone so lovable and awe-inspiring." -Crystal Dean

I hope that's true. That one day I will wake up and see what everyone else tells me they see. To see someone worth loving. Worth living. To be able to be a good friend and artist. That I can not be hurt by silly boys who play with my heart like I'm some sort of doll.

I hope that one day I won't get secretly excited when he messages me and says he didn't mean to hurt me.
"Fooled me once, I'm not going backwards." I can't do that. I'll keep your secrets and our conversations. I won't look at them as signs of what I thought was admiration. I'll keep them as a reminder on why I won't go back. "Break my heart and go one without me."

I will still care for you. At the end of the day I still like you. You are like me in so many ways. It's almost scary. But I won't let you use me. I can't. I hope you have everything you need right now. I hope she is a shoulder you can lean on when your heart is heavy and you experience pain only I can relate to. Sure you hurt me, abused my hopes and what small dreams I had in this. But you're still my equal. You still deserve as much happiness as anyone else. So I hope you find it, and I hope she was worth losing me for.

"Fool me once, I'm not going back, I'm not going backwards."

Sleep

2010-11-01T19:00:00.000-07:00

I've been staring at that bottle of pills for over 2 hours. Trying to find a reason to not take them all. I couldn't. You'd tell me otherwise. You'd say I had a lot to live for. That this shall pas. And maybe it will. Maybe the very old yearning for death will pass. But I am not sure I can wait that long.

It was just sittign there, teasign me. Telling me to take them. All of them. All or nothign my brain say. Just stick the gun in your mouth and pull the trigger. It's not like you don't know how to do that. It's easy. Two steps. Open bottle, take pills.

But I didn't do it. Or least I haven't done it yet. I'm not Heather. I can't just hug everyone goodbye and pretend that I am moving. But I did call Nicole. She saved my life once. Taking me to to that anime convention. The one where I met the Ancient Mariner.

Nicole says I'm strong. I'm not so sure I am. Everyone says I'm so fucking strong. If this is strength I don't want to see weakness.

I dont' know why I feel this way. It's been gnawing at me for a few days. The ache for my total destruction. and as the more things pile up the more I want it. I don't want to be this girl. Grief girl. The one who calls and cries and says that she can't find a reason to not kill herself. Between those lines it says "not even you, you are not a big enough reason to live. You are too good for me. Your friendship is best suited for another. I will just bring you down with me."

I never wanted for you to have to answer to that phone call. To have to find words to keep me going. That's not your job. But I needed to hear someone's voice. I just needed some kind of connection to someone. I needed to make sure I wasn't completely alone.

I don't want to be Heather. I refuse to let myself be her. I won't take these pills. I won't relapse and throw ever shred of life away. I will not cut. I will try my best to be strong. To be the person everyone says I am. I will read old emails, and try to fit the cracked pieces back together. I just wish I was happy. Or that I can remember why being numb, dead inside, was a bad thing.

I'm sorry that you have to read this. I don't want to be the person who brings others down with me. I don't want to be the girl who tells people that I'm going to kill myself in order to see who truly cares. I won't do it and announce it. I don't want attention like that. I don't need to be held and scolded in order to learn. All I need is faith. Faith that one day this will pass and as I dive away I can feel at peace. I'll hold onto that: the small hope that one day I will be at peace. and maybe on day instead of watching me slowly turn into ash you can see me fly free.

2010-10-30T19:39:00.000-07:00

Please don't do that. You know what I'm talking about. That "I'm sorry, I know we never see each other. I don't want to go. I really want to see you." Just don't do it. Just save it. You're never here as it is. I will get over it. I am used to you being absent. Just go.

Sometimes I wonder why I even try anymore. Just one more person to disappoint me. To not be there when I need someone to hold onto. Another person who won't answer their phone when I call or text me back. But I keep trying. I offer to bring you food and sit with you, if only for an hour. I keep trying because you're worth it to me.

But it seems a bit one sided sometimes. I keep trying and trying but it doesn't make a difference. You're already set in stone. Seem to have made up your mind on who is worth working for. Which friendships worth keeping. I don't want to be that girl. The one who cries over every friend who brushes them off.

But you are different. You are the only honest friend I've had in a while. The only one I find value in. the one I care the most about. You're my Moony, my wolf, the girl who saved me a seat in economics despite the fact you thought I hated you. The girl who brought me a cake for my 18th birhtday. The only one who showed up to my party.

I just...I just wish I didn't seem so disposable to you.

Quotes for you to chew on

2010-10-30T18:13:00.000-07:00

"I'm not a contradiction, not a paradox, not an oxymoron. I'm just damn proud to be ME."-Anonymous

“Forgiveness is the act of admitting we are like other people.” – Christina Baldwin

"What we love in our books are the depths of many marvelous moments seen all at one time." ~Kurt Vonnegut(Slaughterhouse Five)

"I still get laughed at but it doesn't bother me, I'm just so glad to hear laughter around me." -Amanda Palmer

"Don't be a dick." -Wil Wheaton

"Some people never go crazy. What truly horrible lives they must lead." -Charles Bukowski.

"I'm a canvas with a palette knife scraping pink paint into blue. Fluid and natural." -Anonymous

“Not all who wander are lost.” – J.R.R. Tolkien

"We need never be hopeless because we can never be irreparably broken." – John Green (I love John Green.)

"the phoenix lament may be filled with sorrow but his tears are filled with hope and healing." (I don't remember who said this but I know it was in a Harry Potter chat thing.)

"I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars." - Walt Whitman.

quote of today

2010-10-28T23:31:00.000-07:00

"you are perfect because you are so much more than flesh and fabric"
-Anonymous
(via http://genderfork.com/)

6 AM

2010-10-28T04:55:00.000-07:00

6 AM feels like fall. Like every good memory I have ever had. 6 AM feels like magic. Like long forgoten songs and endless dawn. Under the moon I feel infinite. Finally finding that thing I'm itching for. Those songs to mean soemthing.

6 AM sounds like "Such Great Heights" and "Summer Skin." Dogs sleeping and trains driving by. Peaceful. My soul is at peace. All the musings die down and I feel wonderful. Laying under the stars, right before the sun rises, is the perfect time of day. Right before the dawn breaks and all the light invades.

"They will see us waving from such great heights, Come down now, they'll say. But everything looks perfect from far away. Come down now, but we'll stay."

In those moments. The ones where I feel infinite, I can remember why I tramp my perpetual journey. Because I am connected to every one being. I can feel them extending from me. Into the ground. Into the street. Across the world. I can feel them. People I know, people I want to know. I can feel them, now I just have to find them. See their faces. Feed on each others energy.

That's why I want this so much. A stranger is a friend I haven't met yet. A being I haven't loved yet. Haven't grown with yet. A stranger is just energy from the earth that I haven't recognized yet. It's the fey in me. Itching for the energy of others. Dying for adventure. I will shed this summer skin and reveal the beauty in the new flesh.

"We'd left our love in our summer skin."

October 28, 2010

2010-10-27T23:53:00.000-07:00

I am inches away from dropping out of school. I hate school. The only reason I am even in school is because I get paid to. And even that isn't becoming a good incentive to keep me there. To care. When am I ever going to need to write research papers and need to know the dates of historical events? I probably won't. Okay so maybe the math class and the first aid class are worth taking. I may need those skills in life. But in the scheme of everything, what am I getting out of my college education?

Seriously, what?

I am literate and am well spoken. I can write, read, make my points known, draw, paint, drive (despite the fact that i have yet to actually get my license or car), I know how to handle money and I can cook. That's most of the life skills I will ever use. Or need. So why am I going? To give me something to do? So that I can pay a bunch of money (out of pocket) and get almost the exact amount back from the government...

Kimberly told me once in an email "I am excited for you to see the world, get into trouble and make mistakes. If I could do it all again, I definitely would. Heartache, hunger, shame, loss and all. You're taking the first step in your life's journey!"

But am I? Is going to school part of my life's journey? As much as my family would like it to be I don't think it is. I think I need to just go out there. To write write write, read, travel, and just live. Under my own rules. Doing the things I want to do. So what do I do? Do I hang in there until December 16 and then not go back to school? Do I quite and say "screw you" to what my family wants from me? Or do I finish this semester and pray to whatever god is out there that I get this internship?

The last one is probably what I will wind up doing. Crossing my fingers and hoping and praying that I get this internship. That I can start actually living my life.

Am I doing this post just to avoid doing my paper that's do in...8 and a half hours? Maybe. But it's also stuff that's been in my brain lately. So I can't help but want to get it out. To silence the brain crack.

Please pray/think happy thoughts for me.