anyway, so about his guy. i've been thinking even more, lately. well, isn't it funny how every thought that ends up being all introspectiove and crap starts off with "i've been thinking"? maybe that's my problem, i shouldn't be thinking. things would be so much easier if i just didn't think. then i would be completely devoid of any feeling. then again, that would probably be a bad thing, because then i would never be able to write. i'm completely off topic. so i'm sitting here in my creative writing class, hating this macintosh that doesn't work very well, contemplating my personal relationships. i told him last night that i was afraid of spiders. he told me that was "cute." that's one word i hate. cute. makes me feel two years old. like the name liz. cute. yick. i have never wanted to be cute. kittens are cute. puppy dogs who have just snatched your socks from the laundry are cute. but people should not be considered cute unless they are under the age of six or a cheerleader. those can be cute. cheerleaders can be cute. i don't want to be cute.
anyway, so he thinks my fear of spiders is cute. i don't think it's cute. i think it's slightly pathetic. one traumatic childhood experiance and i'm afraid of spiders the rest of my life. it's horrible. i can barely even kill 'em by myself, usually i just get all girly and have some big guy do it for me. like my brother. that's about all he's usefull for, killing spiders. even then he laughs at me. it's not like i choose to be a wimp when it comes to killing spiders, or insects of any kind. i just am. i just can't do it myself. i've tried! trust me, i've tried.
i think it's good that i'm going to leave this city in a year. i realized, walking to school, that there are way too many memories and people here that i CANNOT wait to leave. that's about it.
so here's what i've been thinking. in any relationship, it's necassary to keep an ugly part of yourself. like if you get too beautiful, you cease being human and begin to be something that isn't you. i don't know. i want to be a beautiful person, but i want to be one with faults. i think you can't be in love unless you recognize the other person's faults, you know? because if you don't recognize thier faults, then you really don't love hat person, you love the image you give to that person. and loving the image and loving the person are completely different things. and i don't know if i can function without the ugly part of me. the part that is a little dirrty and stained and worn out and left under a bed. because that's the place i get a lot of "this" from. this writing stuff. it comes from that place, most of the time. even when it's a joyful ramble, it comes from the ugly place... because the ugliness can be beautiful too, as long as you are recognizing it's ugliness... make sense? i've been awake since four this morning and it's now ten... perhaps i should go to bed, continue in the morning? nah.
i'm dating this guy... he was a friend before hand. and i guess.. well, it's almost like he's already decided who i am and what i'm going to be to him. and i don't want that. i need tension. i need the part where it isn't easy, where words actually mean something... he keeps saying, I'm so glad we're together.. and he's said it so much, that it's empty, even though i know he means it. it's empty because i already have heard it.
for me, words are really meaningful unless you don't back them up... i mean, we try to put our inner landscapes out for everyone to see using words.. every time we speak. and when you say the same thing over and over agian, it's meaningless, because your inner landscape isn't changing. it's just one weather... all the time. and no one can live with constant sunshine...
Everyone is double-sided- I'm double sided, i don't believe in anything but me, and i don't believe in me so i guess nothing really matters anyway. I don't belive. I don't want that voice in my heart saying "i want, i want, i want" becasue there is nothing to satisfy it. there is no fullfillment... i don't buy it. The world is a husk filled with husks. And the husks try to feel better by emptyingthemselves into other people like i empty myself onto this damn page...
sincerity is rotten. honesty is the worst lie. school is horrid. teachers don't believe in anything. no one belives. we wait for goodness but goodness has died. we wait for beauty but beauty is a myth. it's a dream and i think it's my obsession. and God has never been there.
" it's love that makes reality reality. the opposite makes the opposite." -Saul Bellow
i'm so scared of being me. we're floating around in this giant world and we're all alone. When we find someone, and we hold onto them, eventually they let us down. love never stays, Mr. Robbins. It always leaves.. nothing can hold onto it. it's like water. and water is always moving.
i want to be with all these people who don't want to be with me. they all want something different. and i think i really just want to tant what they want. so i put myslef in other people's baskets- "takeapart a basket, take apart a faith"- our faith is in so many different parts. and when you break it down, you realize you have nothing.
all my life, i've been putting faith into things. example- drama department at my school. i put faith into other people that they will try as hard as i do, that they will have their stuff together. tht things will be organized. that there will be a plan. but does anything work that way?
there are steps in our life we go through to become ourselves, but i feel like i'm one step ahead or maybe fifty steps behind. because i want a different thing. i don't want to be mediocre, but i don't know how not to be. people say, oh, you're a good writer, but i don't think so so what does it mean? like a rock star, all these people saying i love you, it loses it's meaning when it's not from the person you want to hear it from. and when you finally hear it from them... does it mean anthing? "..you belong among the wild flowers, you belong somewhere you feel free.." tom petty
so maybe religion really is the answer, maybe believing in something, even if there isn't anything there, is the answer. because if you don't believe in something then you end up like me-- not beliveing in anything and looking for reality in all the wrong places. you end up romantacizing situations and turning them itno things that were not there in the first place. you embellish on what you can't have. and you do it becasue you're never satisfied.
what do i really want to want to do with my life? do i really want to go through all my days questioning who i am and asking everyone around me to verify what i am? to go through life criticizing? and even when i try to be positive, i end up on the wrong side of the fence... i end up wanting and yearning for the wrong things. i just never know what the right things are.
i look around me, and there are so many happy people. i guess i'm happy in my own way. what the hell is happy anyway? maybe there are those of us who are content in our unhappiness. maybe that's one of the answers i need.
and then agian, i feel like i'm always the one left holding the "short end" of the freaking stick. like i'm the one always listening, and always propping everyone else up, but any time something goes wrong with me, everybody runs and hides and says they have to wash thier hair. so i sit in my room and talk to the faces on my walls. and sometimes i cry. but no one's there to see it, or hear it, except maybe those faces. and people see me in the halls at school sometimes., and my lip is bleeding because i'm biting it so hard. i just see so mcuh. so much that i shouldn't see. and some of it is completely false. like all the misery i just typed about love and beauty and faith... the opinions i hold on it today will change by tomorrow, and that's a good thing, because change is all we can live on. but oh well. "..i'll be the boy in the cordoroy pants, you'll be the girl at the highschool dance, run with me..." ahh. too much tom petty.
and i have no patience for foolish people. i'm much too serious and aware of the horror of my self. (that's a joke, btw)
people who believe themselves to be good, maybe, bother me. perhaps it's because i can't admit, not even here, how i feel about what i do and how i do it. and when other people cann accept that goodness or talent or beauty, it's not annoyance at thier ego or conciet i feel, but jealosy at their ability to accept it. it's jealousy because i cannot accept that maybe i'm okya at this writing thing... or accept that i'm seriously flawed.
i just feel so odd in this body sometimes, like i have an ancient struggle- good against evil- locked in that back of me... and they are always at odds. but time moves on and on. it simply gets worse. the wanting- but not knowing what it is you want or not having the strength or conviction to accept what i want- goes on like time.
i wish i had the patience to deal with fools. to deal with ignorance, and indecency, and inappropriateness. half the time i say things to people simply for the reaction - just because i want the fire and passion of "pointless" discussion.
opinionated=- i'm too opinionated for my own good. and do i posess the grace to back down from my opinions when i realize they are wrong? i don't know. sometimes i feel i don't even have the grace to do anything. god knows i'm not eloquent or graceful in my fire....
i'm way to liberal with elipses
speaking... sharing is difficult. ti's easy to put up poetry on this damn thing, feed it to faces i don't ever have to see, eyes i'm not forced to watch walk and stumble over the cracks in my words. i don't know. it's so much harder to love something that's right in front of you.
i wonder what other people when they get scared and depressed and tired and lonely. i just write. and write. and write. it's an outlet, but basically it's more of a necessity.
i don'tknow. i wish it was forever from now. but there's a sadness in leaving here. or staying. there's sadness in breathing. letting new people in the walls that have taken so long to build up....
there's a monologue in the play "The Good Woman of Setzuan" that i really like, i can't remember the entirety of it right now (shi*, is that word..?) but the basic point was that this woman, Shen Te, used to not want to wake up. she used to lie in bed and cower. and one day, she met this man who was ready to hang himself in a park. and she fell in love over a cup of water. and she was on her way home from his house, and she was awake to see her city rising... there are days where not even the rising city can drag me out of the feelings i feel. and it's not fair. no one should have to feel like this. maybe that's what heaven is, a place where you don't feel so unsteady.. but then again, maybe you just get to a place in your life eventually where avalanches turn to light snow fall...
i'm having an arugement. with myself. not with anybody else. just me. and sometimes that's the worst. and the arguement is over whether or not what i feel is what i feel. or how i act is how i act. or which memories are dreams and which ones are not.
everytime i listen to a song, i relate it to my life. why do i do this? sleep walking through the all night drugstore, baptized in flourescent light, i found religion in the greeting card aisle, now i know Hallmark was right and every pop song on the radio is suddenly speaking to me art may imitate life but life imitates t.v. and i used to be a superhero no one could touch me yeah not even myself and you are like a phone booth that i somehow stumbled into now look at me i am just like everybody else" **ani difranco**
so i'm thinking the other day about how frustrated adults get with teenagers. and i just want to tell them to screw off sometimes, cause dammnitt, you felt important when you were eighteen, why can't i? why did you get to be the only confused one? why did you get to be the only one who couldn't figure anything out except the fact that you can't figure it out? why do you get to be the one who thinks you were the first one to have that thought (even though you weren't) and i can't? i don't know. whatever. don't worry, i'm not gonna slit my wrists over it, and i'm eating. sometimes. when i remember. anyway.
a moment where you know what you need and what you want and how you feel about things, and you know that everything's going to come together, and you just want to talk to anyone that comes along and say hello and ask them how they're doing? a moment where you're just grateful to exist, because there is beauty and love and wonderful things in the world, because the air is perfumed with the scent of those little white flowers that grow in just about every yard on the way to wherever you're headed? where everyone you pass gets a big giant hello? where life is just good because it's life? where you know that you aren't exactly perfect, and you aren't beautiful, and you still have so much to learn and so much growing and changing to do, but you feel beautiful and wise? where you know that things aren't perfect, but for that little moment, things are the most perfect that they've ever been? where rooftops seem like babysteps high, and you feel so big and wonderful that you'd just like to divide yourself into tiny pieces and pass them out like flowers? do you ever have a moment where you see someone do something nice for someone else, just to do it, not because they expect something in return, or they want acknowledgement for being a good person, but just because? even if it's just paying that dollar toll for the person behind you on the bridge, or buying someone a latte that they wouldn't be able to get because they're fifty cents short? where the world is beautiful jsut because it's there....??????
i just feel so good at this moment, i want to write it all down because these moments don't last and they fade away.. so much of the time the bad memories outwiegh the good, and you really have to dig right down to the bottom of your soul to pick one out and remember, because you've forgotten that life is good and hope really does exist and most of the time, things tunr out okay, and that nobody's abandoned you and you are a decent person and you are valuable to someone and that you just need to wait until tomorrow... and no matter how cliched or tired it sounds, things do get better.... you just have to "hold onto these moments while they pass"....
like i was watching this movie the other day, SubUrbia, and it reminded me a lot of my little town--which is a scary thought if anybody's seen the movie-- and there's one character who's in a band and has "made" it and he comes back, and he's talking to these friends of his he used to have, and the question, "when a tree falls in a forest, does it make a sound" comes up as an analogy to what they wnat to do with their lives, and this one wild, boistruous and slightly misguided girl agrees the the rock n roll guy that even if it does make a sound, no ones there to hear it, so it doesn't matter, and the girls boyfriend is saying, but who cares if there's no one to hear the sound, the tree knows it's making a sound and life is good becasue that sound was made...
i guess i'm trying to say that i'm just happy to make a sound, that i don't need fifty million people listening, or reading, or whatever, that just making a sound is enough... like with this page, i never really expected anyone besides me to read it and maybe a couple of my friends, and the fact that there are some people who read it is really cool, but i don't really care... i'm just making a sound, just making a noise, just saying, hey, this is what i'm thinking right now and this is how i'm feeling and this is why life is this way...
i mean, sh*t, just make a sound.. who cares if you're the only one who hears it...