"They're quite crazy, dear- men are. What you look for is one of them whose insanity is large enough, and calm and generous enough, to include you"
-Charles Baxter

“Writers must fortify themselves with pride and egotism as best they can. The process is analogous to using sandbags and loose timbers to protect a house against flood. Writers are vulnerable creatures like anyone else. For what do they have in reality? Not sandbags, not timbers. Just a flimsy reputation and a name.”

I feel like half the time I can't decide what I want to do.
:/

www.allpoetry.com/JeSSicAKAyu

I'm not afraid anymore.

just know that whatever is happening is exactly what should occur. what is not good for man historically has not survived. this is exactly what you should be feeling, you know exactly who you should know, and be sure to realize a lesson will come out of all of this. Don't take anything for granted, but know there is a reason in the world for everything that occurs. The world is oddly at peace with itself, it will work out.



I feel like for the last few months I've been on this philosophical journey to figure myself out and figure the world out. This all started out of pain and heartache, but somehow, I'm so much stronger of a person then who I was before. I can't really imagine being that person again..
and I'm so happy to be here.

It's all so clear now, your someone I want in my life.

Manic Depression

Manic Depression

Posted using ShareThis

it's so odd to be free from you
you held me down for far too long
and never tried to make it work
just held your own
and let me break
"And you still mean everything to her, you're just not worth the fight anymore."
no, i'm not fighting for this anymore
because
i know what love is
and it's not you.
your arms will never hold me quite right
i feel free
a feeling i haven't enjoyed since that summer
and in the fall, when we met
could you tell i was vulnerable?
could you see in my eyes?
your no monster, and i'm no princess
but you knew from the start you'd never make it work.
and you would never try
and thats the worst, that your intentions from the beginning were to break me apart
and leave me to earn my keep.

i met a boy
with kaleidoscope eyes

Why?
Why do you do it? What makes you choose to run the edge across your skin?
Why?
Why does it seem a good idea to cut... when if you press a little deeper your life could end...
Why?
Why is it a good thing to make your loved ones suffer? To make them cry almost every day? Even the innocents, your freinds... what did they do to get that jab in their stomach whenever that word...
Cut.
Cutter.
Cutting.
Graces the lips of another being...
Why?
Paint, music, dance, literature, exercise...
All of these you could turn to, yet you choose to get a half-an-hour high... And the high won't come back... so you go deeper and deeper until...
Boom.
Black out.
Hospitals.
Therapist.
Tears.
Why not throw away the razor and begin anew... Replace it with art, or distractions.
Ignore your mind. No matter how much you throb, don't let it control you.
It controls you.
A snake, constricting the life from your eyes.
Until...
I look. And there is someone else...
In what used to be your eyes.
Someone emotionless, numb, uncaring of the world.
You're gone.
Lost.
Your body remains a puppet to the devil... to that razor.
Everything 'you' see is now dark, unhappy, frowning...
You feel insignificant...
Uncared for...
And alone...
And the people who love you, you are doing the same to them... They are dying too.
But you are too selfish.
Too wrapped in your own satisfaction...
To see you are killing them.

You were just a boy on a bed in a room, like a kaleidoscope is a tube full of bits of broken glass. But the way I saw you was pieces refracting the light, shifting into an infinite universe of flowers and rainbows and insects and planets, magical dividing cells, pictures no one else knew.

you go on, you be gone.

its funny
how i couldn't live without your
or so i thought.
but no it's so easy to go on
i'm so much better off
"you go on and i'll be happier"
it doesn't make much sense to tear your soul apart over another souls leaving.
i remember the fond times. the times i couldn't stop smiling. the times my cheeks ached from laughter and smiles.
but i also remember the bad times. when i couldnt let you see me as weak.
this all gives me hope however.
for loves to come
both good and bad.

Guinevere Eli Young Band with lyrics

I hope you're heaven sent and you're hell proof..

He's become a mystery to me. It's been months since anything made sense to me. Like simple words that held so much meaning between the two of us. I can't even wrap my mind around the way he felt anymore. the way we moved and the words he would say. it's human nature, in it's simplest form. to seek pleasure, and assurance. but it meant so much more to me.
i remember that night we crawled into his bed, into unknown places. and we spoke now lifeless words and he made my body ache and shake in fear.
and i cried for what we had done. and he assured me that my doubts were unreasonably so. and i believed his every word.
i remembered days he'd have to hush me to stay quite. because we said secret words. like nothing in the world could break us. i was so happy, nothing in the world could break me.
funny how that was.
but it inspires me..
i guess, the good thing about feeling that way, is that i know those feelings. like, even if it all goes to hell again, i know what love is. i don't miss him .. i miss those feelings.


but .. i think there is a possibility i'll feel that way again..someday

I can't make up my mind.
on..anything.
I can't make up my mind on what it is I can't make up my mind about.
That troubles me deeply.
I can't seem to catch a break from myself. I'm under constant scrutiny and deception from myself.
I'll be my own damn demise, i swear.
I think I'm going crazy.
I sit and I think about things that shouldn't matter to a person
like..
there's these cars that seem to be made of remnants of other cars. one door is one color, and another is the opposite. and i wonder what happened. and i sit alone and i think these thoughts and i think I'm going crazy. because i can't stop thinking about cars with different colored doors. so i worry.
oh god, i'm crazy.
and i worry if anyone would ever love a girl like me, who thinks about the cars made up of another car. and thinks too deeply about it. and those start to churn up other worrisome thoughts.
like why is love such a worry?
and i'm sure i could never share these thoughts with another person without risking the validity of my sanity.
i really think i'm going crazy.

dried up
and crusted on my skin
can't stop the bleeding
is this sin my mortal sin?
is this all worth dying for?
i just
just
can't feel this way anymore..

somethings gotta give.

bleeding scars, hopeless starts

i had done
so well
i hadn't in nearly
three weeks
until just a moment ago
momentary madness
blinding hot heat
coming to the surface
i admit it
I am weak for sure
I am so weary
I am scared
and I'm tired of feeling this way

I don't know if I'll ever be okay

why do I miss the bleeding

What is an “instant” death anyway? How long is an instant? Is it one second? Ten? The pain of those seconds must have been awful as her heart burst and her lungs collapsed and there was no air and no blood to her brain and only raw panic. What the hell is instant? Nothing is instant. Instant rice takes five minutes, instant pudding an hour. I doubt that an instant of blinding pain feels particularly instantaneous

how long is an instant?
when you're told someone dies on impact in a wreck everyone seems relieved. well at least they didnt go through pain. just an instant and they were dead. but how long is an instant if its an instant of pain. of your lungs and heart exploding and your chest cavity crushing beneath the sheer force. how is that supposed to bring relief? they died in an instant of pain beyond comparison or recognition.
or in happier news.
love at first sight. the instant i saw him i knew i loved him. what is said in that fleeting glance of passion, curiousness, and eroticism? how is an instant all a person needs at times?
what instances define you?
what instances altered your life?