. [entries|fellow artists|album] That insecure potty mouth [ website | My Art ] [ userinfo | Self Portrait ] [ calendar | Album ]

Ce n'est pas une poésie. [06 Feb 2010|02:19am] . . . . . . . Even though we both Hate this place, There will be a point When have moved on To our 'bigger and better' And we will long for The time we spent here. . . . . . . . Critique my work

A few things that have been rolling through my head as of late. [27 Jan 2010|11:53pm] I have been having very intense and occult related dreams lately. I think part of this is due to my rediscovered tarot reading venture, or perhaps that I haven't been giving my spirituality the attention it deserves. Right now it serves as more home decor than anything else. Not that I haven't been trying. It's always what I dip for in book stores and what I spend most of my time reading about. When I was younger practice was my life. I would pray and meditate daily, form my sacred space, and make offerings. Now I barely have the energy to do mild yoga stretching before bed. I have reached an impasse. I don't even know what to call it or myself anymore. Wicca is too pop new age for me to take it seriously. Witchcraft implies a level of dedication I do not know if I am able to reach anymore. People enter my room and assume that I am a buddhist. Despite all of the iconography it is one of the religions I know the least about. Even as I delve further into it I do not know if I am capable of the level of abstract thinking it requires. It would be wonderful if I had a nice label to stick onto it. Pagan is a somewhat comfortable blanket term, but I feel that my lack of study has fallen me farther and farther away from it. Perhaps I have become too jaded after my intense spiritual experience. Consider the irony for a moment, that someone who believes that they have actually witnessed the miracle of all existence first hand, does not even know what to do with that knowledge of divinity. Sometimes I think that I have served my purpose with fate to the fullest degree, and now that my life is my own I have no idea what to do with it. One of the messages that I unlocked in that terrible and brilliant moment; "It is your life now. You have earned it. Do with it what you will." And my decision? In the year that passed I chose to step as far away from the metaphysical as I possibly could. To live as secular a life as possible and to exist for the material and the mundane. I work to pay my rent. I pay my rent to stay off of the street. I strive to return to school and to make a few friends. The highlight of my week is when someone is kind enough to let me out of my house to be a creature outside of that. I think that after all of those years of self-discovery, I have nearly forgotten who I am. I notice this most in the reaction to the people around me. I present myself as a slightly dramatic and overworked girl catching ground on her early twenties. Few seem capable of peeling that back to find what is hidden underneath it. But the blessed ones who have remind me of the things that I have lost touch with. Almost every day I promise myself to get in touch with the power that brought me here. How do I cast aside this apologetic and insecure shroud that I have been carrying around me? I have held it for so long that I have convinced the people around me that it is a part of who I am. I allowed my revelation to frighten me so severely that I retreated from the lesson that it taught me. In retrospect I do not know if the person that I have allowed myself to become in its passing would have had the confidence required to trust that they knew what needed to be done. I still have faith that in that moment, I made no mistakes. Everything unfolded as it was meant to. Why can I not assure myself that the aftermath is true as well? I do not feel that I am in the wrong place. I trust my instincts that I am with the right people and still leading myself in the most constructive direction. I just feel that my mindset is wrong. I have been picking apart the smaller picture of day to day life so much that I have not focused on a real future. Where will I live? What will I do? When do I pay this bill or attend this appointment? I should be asking myself: What are you doing? What do you want to be doing? Where are you going? Where do you want to go? The dissatisfaction with your life resides in your souls undernourishment. You have been focusing so much on the needs of your body that you have cast aside the needs of your spirit. That is all well and good? But what does my spirit need? What does it require or desire most in order to be enriched? I feel that I am beginning to move back to that position, but as for direction I feel without aim. I feel that eastern philosophy of some sort will aid me in this, but for once in a very long time, I am not sure where to begin. --- I need a new definition of "soul food". 2 Critics|Critique my work

[27 Jan 2010|11:49pm] I like you so much because I will never know you. Critique my work

[26 Jan 2010|01:22am] It was the subtle caress of my cheek that soaked my heart today. That was the best moment of my life. Critique my work

[25 Jan 2010|08:15pm] Hello again deadboy, This time of year I think of you often. I am never entirely sure why. It is strange to think that you are always going to be such a huge chunk of me. I could say that part of this is the constant refusal to let go. But even as I ponder this, it occurs to me that you would have been one of my few constants despite the many times I have moved. Power on, sign in, and there you would be. For hours and hours and hours. I miss that the most and wish I could have appreciated you then. I don't let it eat at me too much anymore. You know how much you mean to me even better than I do. I love you. I know that meeting you and losing you taught me more about that word than anyone will ever know. I feel you in everything that I love. In huge amounts. When my cat comes to me for comfort, I think of you. Why am I writing this? Most would say that I should have moved on by now. I never will. Even though I know with absolute certainty that you have. Perhaps it is a part of what I do. But death never brings you to mind. No grief, just gratitude. Thank you for talking life back into me. Before and after you left. Thank you for setting the standard. I can only hope that I can be as good to myself as you would have been. A short letter to tell you how much good you do for me. Accept my affection; and know I would hug you forever if I could. All of my love, Carlei 2 Critics|Critique my work

A minor major revelation. [24 Jan 2010|10:37pm] [ Auditory Hallucinations Stage of neurosis | optimistic ] [ Auditory Hallucinations Stage of neurosis | Intense key clacking ] For the first time in a very long time I feel okay. The weight of everything that I worry about on a regular basis is gone. I was walking through my home earlier today and realized that I am filled with a sensation of well being. It's a commonly used phrase in the new age community, "Improve health, vitality and well being!" but is not something that I think I fully understood until now. It is a strange satisfaction brought about by the feeling that, for once, I really do think that everything is going to work out. What is everything? All of those things that wrap around my mind when I try to fall asleep. What I need to do tomorrow, how that will lead to what I need to do the day after that. How those actions will progress to what needs to be done in the following weeks or months. As opposed to the usual overwhelming fear and anxiety, I feel confident. It took me this long to realize that I have been otherwise unable to allow myself to do so. When I think about where I was this time last year; how trapped I felt in my very existence or teetering lack thereof, and how I got to this point? I heave a gigantic sigh of relief. Everyone was rather worried about me. How would I survive alone in this strange and terrifying city? How could I survive on my own regardless? The numerous fearful and sobbing phone calls to my family, and the many occasions they tried to convince me to just "come home" and let everything "be alright". Things in North Carolina are not so peaceful as that. I knew this from the beginning. In fact I think that was one of the last things I said to my parents before I left. Things were not okay. They were quickly spiraling out of control. Now that I have finally reached an equilibrium in my terrifyingly distant and independent life, things "at home" have come to a head. While part of me feels a vague sense of guilt about finding a level of consolation in the relative destruction of my mothers hard work; that is not entirely the case. My entire life I have been expected to be an adult, but with every contrary action of never fully being allowed to be one. It never occurred to me that my mother was suffering from a level of empty nest syndrome before I moved out. I never considered myself to be there in the first place... but still... her ability to make me doubt myself in her confidence in me is striking, smothering, and debilitating. I love you mom. If it were not for your innate ability to make me certain that my potential was a thousand times greater than anything I could achieve, I would not be where I am today. The summary of my story is; I am surviving. Not quite thriving. Not yet, but I am on my way there. It's almost as if I am finally waking from a self induced nightmare of failure. What a great thing that is indeed. -- ^^ Above entry motivated by the desire to preserve a positive occurrence in my life, as opposed to the usual fear ridden angst. Thank god. Critique my work

A snip from the last radio station on earth. [21 Jan 2010|01:20am] [ Auditory Hallucinations Stage of neurosis | Magnetic Fields- Asleep and Dreaming ] http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RJsK2mSUwnM Critique my work

[15 Dec 2009|07:56pm] There I go again. Digging through old profiles and dead friends. Every time I go online my only activity is driven by nostalgia. I miss you all. All of the time. Critique my work

[15 Dec 2009|05:22pm] [ Auditory Hallucinations Stage of neurosis | anxious ] [ Auditory Hallucinations Stage of neurosis | The television ] The friends that I spend most of my time with; that I at one point referred to as my "best" friends do not understand me even in the least. The people who sing along with commercial jingles like fine music. Who's greatest aspiration is to catch the good tv. Or play the good video game. That see their future as complete because procreation is all that is required. The stagnancy is so painful. The selfishness in what I want to say, and that in which I don't. I am so thirsty for conversation that expands me in some fashion. So much so that I cant leave anyone that provides it alone long enough to think straight. I desperately need to go back to school. This is what causes me the most distress about my living situation. It's not the lack of forward movement on the part of two people who should understand that it is critical to do so. It's not that I feel that I am being taken advantage of. It's not that after a prolonged period of time it has eroded my well being. It is simply this: I have been working so hard and giving so much of myself that all I want is to get back into school to stop thinking about basic survival. It's childish to feel that being a good person earns me some karmic windfall. Partially I do. Mostly I can't help but wonder what it is about my life that refuses to allow me the ability to finish my education. Or at least, start it again. The problem for being groomed for something, and this is what strikes me when I hear about child prodigies, is that you feel adrift and without purpose unless you are doing it. It is the only tempting aspect of moving back with my parents. Except that the feeling of wasting everything I've spent my life on entirely originates from them. Who am I kidding? I've been trying to write this post for over an hour and with my live-in company I have a hard enough time getting to sleep at night. What would I do if I had exams? Critique my work

Oh the dear deadness. It never changes. (This can be a source of joy) [29 Aug 2009|03:05am] [ Auditory Hallucinations Stage of neurosis | relaxed ] [ Auditory Hallucinations Stage of neurosis | Some random incredibad stuff ] Hello journal. I recently went through the last four years of you. The most recent made me the most sad. Upon reflection my 20 most recent posts categorized more intense suffering than my self destructive days. I missed you journal. I missed the chunk of me that was in it. I was a really cute kid. I regret not appreciating that enough at the time. "You will never appreciate the beauty and the splendor of your youth until it is gone." Well, it's not gone yet, but hindsight says that I was way cooler than anyone, including myself, ever noticed. This update is far less artistic than the others because it's driven by the want and desire to update. A few things that have changed since I last wrote here: That truth and understanding that I was so desperately seeking i found. Granted it was long after I forgot I was looking for it. This is no surprise. While my flashback/seizure revelation has faded from my mind in the respect that I cannot grasp even a microscopic fraction of what it was about; it has still changed me intensely. I have to say that I am much more content than I've ever been. Especially in the moments remembered by this journal. This is not a surprise either. I almost always write in this when I am either miserable or restless. At the moment I am neither. In fact, I feel I could sleep on the floor with ease at any moment I decide to. I feel bad for the cigarette butts I leave everywhere. Otherwise the guilt ridden existence I am famous for has for the most part dissipated. I have friends to call, people to see, and things to do. All of these things make me feel productive and productivity is making me happy. I am rocked to sleep by happy thoughts on a fairly regular basis as of late. My dreams are less intense and much more pleasant. So much so that I usually forget them upon waking. Which, I suppose means that I am getting more rest. I'm no longer reliant on my clonizipam in order to maintain my sanity. I think this is quite readily influenced by my peace with no longer altering my conciousness. It's pretty altered enough on it's own as it is. This brings me so much bliss and satisfaction that I cannot express it. For the first time in a very long time I feel free, and pleased with myself. Much of the anger personified in the last years updates have passed. Russell and I aren't living together anymore. In fact journal, because I have no desire to tell anyone but you, our relationship is on what I believe to be a permanent hiatus. I think this is a very good thing. A terrible shadow that has been lingering over us has seemed to wane, and we are at least capable of enjoying each other's company, or lack of it, quite a bit. It did disturb me that (and once again because I choose to tell no one but you this dear permanently deceased journal) in my mind at least, it did not take long for his mind to wander to other possibilities. However, this is something that I've been trying to get myself used to for far longer than I really care to admit, and it's healthier to happen in this context than any other. I have no interest in advertising my changed relationship status. Being single, at least in my experiences (granted I spend a lot of my time around assholes, or seem to attract them in groves) is just one of those things that people feel a constant desire to change. I do not wish to shop for a new counterpart. So as far as the rest of the world is concerned I am married to myself and quite happy with this. I do not want friends coming out of the woodwork to try to date me. In fact, just typing the word "date" made me cringe a little. For as much as I love people, I do not like them much. The same can be said of relationships. Friends I always need more of, friends I can always appreciate. Boyfriends and girlfriends however? Not quite so much. This is a personal flaw I will rectify when the time comes. However, at the moment I cannot help but realize that I've bounced from one very long and arduous committed relationship to another for a very long time. The more and more I think about it, the less I think I am the type of creature that you can take home and adopt. I'm much more like a friendly stray that wanders into your apartment occasionally, only to tear up your furniture. I mean no harm, it's just my nature I suppose. Destruction follows me, especially when romantic love is involved. I do not need to name names here or give examples to know that it is true. Only accept the honest revelation that a lot of the people who I enjoy immensely stop taking care of themselves or treating anyone involved very well after being with me for a prolonged period of time. Something in the intensity of my existence. I love everyone very much. So much that I am afraid to say it to those I believe I feel it for most. The noteable change in our mutual happiness emphasizes this. I am constantly in love. Always. Love is my action and my primary emotion. I don't throw the word around because I don't feel that really anyone understands such a complex concept, let alone myself. But the intense affection, the gravity of it, my capacity to love things, people, places that I do not know and rarely like is I think somewhat rare. I love the world a lot. So much so that I wish to give it not only everything it needs but also anything it could ever want or dream of desiring. This is a noble pursuit, but it is not healthy. These things are just not possible. Trying to attain the impossible is something that doesn't help me much. It helps other people a lot, but it's generally destructive for me. I am not an unending source of anything. None of us are. I guess eventually I will have to accept that I am as human as the rest of us. But deep down... way deep in the dark parts of my brain that I don't allow myself to access as much anymore, I don't think any of us are really human. Not really. And I do think that we are all filled with infinite possibilities and are capable of so much more than anyone will ever comprehend. I also think we can explore ourselves for the entirety of this life and the next (and the next and the next and the next) and never really understand it. In the same respect I don't think that absolute understanding of anyone else is ever possible. I think this is why I love psychology but do not trust shrinks. I save the term "shrink" specifically for those who should understand this tidbit better than the rest of us, yet choose to overlook it to believe that their understanding of others is concrete and unquestionable. There are very many good therapists out there, but I'm fairly certain they take a second opinion. Or, any opinion that is not their own. Hahahahahahahahahahaha! Whee! Wild tangent! I like me a lot lately. I even check out the mirror when I hope no one is watching. This blinking cursor is a silence in the room that I will not let be. Even though my electricity has been cut off for a undetermined amount of time, I'm looking forward to it. So often in the past year I've felt overwhelmed by constant stimulus. It will be interesting to have nothing to entertain myself with but my own thoughts. It was rather cool and peaceful in my home today. These are things I once considered an impossibility. I like you a lot. Me? Yeah you. 1 Critic|Critique my work

[14 May 2009|06:57pm] This is my favorite place. This dark, dusty, forgotten slice of the internet is mine. All mine. 2 Critics|Critique my work

[08 May 2009|10:35pm] I am centuries too old for myself. Whenever I'm asked about my life, where I've been, what I've done, the people I've known; I find myself spitting out ever single thought I've had on the subject only to look into the face of the questioner dumbstruck. Usually the most eloquent say "That's probably why you have so many problems." I'm terrified of love but I persue it unconditionally. Like a moth to a flame I always seem to get wound up in relationships that can ultimately destroy me. I suppose that's a categorically true statement, but this weak little heart of mine (much like my mind) has been bruised and broken and reconstructed so many times it doesn't even remember itself. So much for art. So much for devotion. So much for dreams and ideals and promises. So much for me. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . So how long ago did you delete me as your girlfriend on facebook? You don't even have a relationship status anymore. I would know if I were paying attention. You'd know about this if you did either. 3 Critics|Critique my work

How the time flies when you don't keep time. [14 Apr 2009|12:05am] [ Auditory Hallucinations Stage of neurosis | awake ] [ Auditory Hallucinations Stage of neurosis | Stories of Nutella Oreos ] I've changed jobs thrice since I last wrote here; Don't really feel like catching up on any of that; but I'm always glad to see this page. I know I'm never online and I'm always impossible to reach, but I'm here more often than I write this journal is always a long lost friend. I've been having longer more exotic dreams lately; most of which are so real I wake physically exhausted from the nights tasks. While I used to wake with a moment of surreal anxiety of which world was real; I'm more frustrated that I don't frequently dream about sleeping, which I think is what I need to do. What bothers me now, or rather still is my rolling thought processes when I'm in my hypnogogic (near sleep) state and I find myself trying to follow back a train of thought, only to find that whatever I was thinking about had nothing to do with me, or my personal experience whatsoever. Thinking about people that I don't know, doing things I don't even think or know about, and just a strange surreal feeling that I'm "receiving static" from another station. That my friend, makes me wonder if I need to see a professional. No words, no actions no voices not like someone speaking or thinking to or at me... more like (but not actually, this isn't something that I think is happening) when I try to fall asleep I start to pick up on whatever is going through my neighbor bob's head (*'The dog needs to be walked more often' or 'Pick up formula at the grocery store'* Which of course isn't relevant to my life in the least.) It's not disturbing, just bizarre. --- How's youse guys? Or rather, does anyone still read this? 2 Critics|Critique my work

[06 Dec 2008|02:12pm] So here I am; alive. I'm constantly teetering between dissatisfaction and euphoria. Critique my work

You can fake anything if you try hard enough. [25 Nov 2008|08:16pm] But our tears and fears were real, and heres hoping that was enough to convince that soft voiced man that I could use a little help. Borderline personality Disorder. I thought we were beyond all of that. Guess it's time pick up the DSM IV again. 3 Critics|Critique my work

[25 Nov 2008|07:29pm] Busted flat in Baton Rouge, waitin' for a train And I's feelin' near as faded as my jeans Bobby thumbed a diesel down just before it rained It rode us all the way into New Orleans I pulled my harpoon out of my dirty red bandana I's playin' soft while Bobby sang the blues, yeah Windshield wipers slappin' time, I's holdin' Bobby's hand in mine We sang every song that driver knew, yeah Freedom's just another word for nothin' left to lose Nothin' don't mean nothin' hon' if it ain't free, no no And feelin' good was easy, Lord, when he sang the blues You know, feelin' good was good enough for me Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee From the Kentucky coal mine to the California sun There Bobby shared the secrets of my soul Through all kinds of weather, through everything we done Yeah, Bobby baby kept me from the cold One day up near Salinas, Lord, I let him slip away He's lookin' for that home and I hope he finds it But I'd trade all o' my tomorrows for one single yesterday To be holdin' Bobby's body next to mine Freedom's just another word for nothin' left to lose Nothin', that's all that Bobby left me, yeah But if feelin' good was easy, Lord, when he sang the blues Hey, feelin' good was good enough for me, mm-hmm Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee --- You listen to it, and you don't realize what she didn't realize... it was going to be her biggest hit, except for the one that kept her from seeing it. The dead always have their say. 1 Critic|Critique my work

My disability assessment is tomorrow. [23 Nov 2008|12:40pm] What do I tell this psychiatrist? That I honestly believe that I sold my soul? ...nevermind. 1 Critic|Critique my work

So go ahead and kill me [22 Nov 2008|11:24am] Yesterday I recieved an e-mail from myspace saying my username was going up for auction unless I logged in; so I did. And of course the first thing that I realized was that your face was the first on my top ten. You'd think I'd be over all of this by now, but of course I'm not. How good to you I have been. You've altered my universe permanently and I will never forgive you. All of that hurt and anger I had for Tony that had faded into a long forgotten smoulder has re-awakened itself in you. God help me if I ever meet another woman with your name. I'll never be able to trust her. Sometimes I catch myself dreaming that you were horribly disfigured. Or publicly humiliated; but that's sort of your style. I never liked your singing voice, and I never really liked your stories. I never felt sorry for you, and could only dig up empathy when you showed it to me; which was not frequently. I hate you. You call me up occasionally, to see "how i'm doing" when what you really mean, is you're waiting for that apology that I owe you. So here it is: I'm sorry I cooked you breakfast. I'm sorry I never told your family off. I'm sorry I let you sleep in my bed. I'm sorry I ever told you my secrets. I'm sorry I ever thought we were friends. I'm sorry I was lonely enough to force the issue. I'm sorry the two of you ever met each other. I'm sorry I ever trusted your opinion. I'm sorry for being your negotiator. I'm sorry I listened to you talk about your problems. I'm sorry that I ever tried to help you. I'm sorry I called you back. -- Oh, and I told your ex-boyfriend that he should get tested. I refuse to apologize for the fact that you LIED TO ME FOR OVER TWO YEARS. And it doesn't matter what I say here, because you don't waste the bandwith to read this. Sometimes I want to blame you for everything that ever went wrong in my life. For now that's good enough. Critique my work

[18 Nov 2008|11:06am] I never feel good or kind or right anymore. I am afraid of everything pleasurable in this world. I hate this job. Lack of fufillment makes my soul ache. I hate money. I hate societal standards and what it does to people. I want to go back to college. I wish there was a magick word that we could say, that could undo all the hurting. And why can't I bring up your adultery? When that was the primary source of my madness? I fooled myself into thinking that you were honest with me the whole time. Sometimes I think we feel like strangers. Sometimes I want to crawl inside of you and live there forever. Mostly I want the rest of the world to go away for me for just a while; just because I need it. I'm tired of vying for your time. I've been dreaming of you since before we met. And now I wish I could just pass you a note in class. And get a little scrap of something in return. This is not your fault. I have an infection. I'm riddled with it in fact. I feel like I have been downgraded as a result of this fiasco. I want to send every woman you ever jacked it to an alternate universe. I am elated and miserable all over. Yes, this is what I wanted... but not this way. I want my people back. I want some friendship. I need some intimacy from somewhere. I need to stop feeling like all I do is talk about myself; other people do other things, but in the end I think we're all just talking about ourselves. I want to stop fucking up. I don't want to see your family for a long time. I want to leave here. I want to go home. I rush to my apartment as soon as possible to meet it empty, empty of everything but my things and your things and our stuff and my cat. When I get there, I know that he was right; it doesn't exist. I want you to know what's good for me. I want you to run me a bath and then wrap me up in towels and blankets. I need you to sing me to sleep; if the only words to the song are; Hush my darling. I am so in love with you, and so very afraid. I have a million people who will tell me why I have no right to trust you. What I need is the one who can help me have faith in anything ever again. I've never been a jealous woman... but now I'm jealous of the entire outside world. Or perhaps merely suspicious. And hatefully so. I'm terrified because I never know what your thoughts are anymore, only what it is that you want to do. I wish the two of you would have understood then what I meant by "if you ever do this again, it will break me. Please don't do this to me. I can't have this happen. Not here. Not her. Not us. I'll have nothing left" And how dare all of you think that it's over now? How dare any of you think that I'm the same? Because I don't feel right, and everyone pretending like this never happened does not help me. Just thinking about the people involved in this situation makes me violently angry. Let's just keep tip toeing around what it is that's bothering us, so we can continue to float comfortably. A terrorist bomb was dropped inside of my head, and all anyone can say is "stop thinking about the past" You had sex with my best friend, and your parents had me committed. I don't know if I can smile at either one of them properly. I'd like a card or something. A little somethin for my troubles. I want you to look me in the eyes and swear, swear to god that I've got nothing to worry about. And I can't believe that when you keep asking the candyman what he has on hand. I'm still afraid of you finding a girl who can go the distance. ... There aren't words for how I feel. I just want some optomism. 5 Critics|Critique my work

[14 Nov 2008|07:32pm] I was looking forward to my next life; now I wish that I would have one one. Critique my work

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