May 19, 09
She lays on the grass and dreams of yesterdays forgotten. She blinks at the sky as they try to paint us all with the same brush, in the same colors. The voices echo and the pictures flash. The letter torn and floating away in the wind, because she was sick of trying to read between the lines. She’s tired of everything, actually. But then a plane in the sky sparks her memory, and reminds her to breathe - as if living was her biggest interest right now. The more she thinks about it, the easier it seems; a pocketknife curved the right way, sunken into the skin, the vein, in the right place, could end everything - and isn’t that just what she wants?
May 21, 09
Everything is rocky, her world on edge. Thrown out of balance and she doesn’t really care. She reaches the end, it’s game over, but then she finds herself, stuck at the beginning again. She doesn’t have time to second guess (she‘s spent most of it looking for that silver lining that barely shines anymore), she doesn’t have strength to try and forget (she‘s used most of it on remembering). But somehow, someway, she’s holding on - because she never learns, never learns. She tries to cross all the bridges she’d burnt, tries to go when she really doesn‘t want to. She’s alone in her own little world, and really, she’s just fine that way.
May 23, 09 ; idk, i just put my old notebook in the recycling (i like knowing that i can get it back, and recycling is good for the planet), and started a new one sort of. havent really "started" in it yet but yeah, this came out. :D
She thinks of these pretty words, whatever sounds good. Every syllable, every phrase seems to eat her up inside - until she writes them down, free to float on the paper, and out of her mind. This is how she thinks, how she lives, how she grows, like her worn out notebook, thicker by the day. The pages upon pages of words, they never meant anything, but now, looking back, she realizes -- she was documenting the story of her own life. She wants to start over, so she throws away the old tattered notebook, swipes away the crumbs of the past, and starts fresh.
May 28, 09
She keeps thinking everything's changed, but in hindsight, maybe this is the way they've always been. Only now, her vision is fogged (by his pretty smile); her judgement is clouded (she swears he does it on purpose); and her mind is tainted (with her misty autumn dreams).
I MISS YA.