Marie's Blurty Entries [entries|friends|calendar] Marie [ userinfo | blurty userinfo ] [ calendar | blurty calendar ]

[28 Sep 2009|06:58am] I found something beautiful in the rain but you are the rain and you wash over everything. Comments: 2 comments|bang!bang!.

[10 Sep 2009|03:02am] [ mood | good ] [ music | Rex//Clean ] I finally found someone to have sex with while listening to Minus The Bear. One thing I will soon be able to check off my 'to-do before I die' list. Comments: bang!bang!.

Ain't no use in turning on your light babe [02 Sep 2009|05:07pm] When boredom and loneliness clasp hands together in this tight of a bind, I usually end up doing something I regret. Atleast my cell phone isn't functioning. Comments: bang!bang!.

[27 Aug 2009|01:09am] Some days I just love them to pieces, other days, like today, I want to smash them to pieces. Into a fine dust that can be inhaled into lungs and choked on. There is only so much I can handle in regards to chaos...which in itself doesn't make sense, one can not get a grip on chaos, but I think I've done a pretty fine job here, but today I've felt really close to my breaking point. Days like today leave me wondering about the other half of my family and whether or not I would fit in better there. I've been wondering about Larry a lot. I think I'm just lonely and feel like a drifter. He's a drifter...maybe he wouldn't be the conventional father, but whatever he has to offer would probably be better then what I have now...which is next to nothing. I am half of him and I don't know which half. Not that I'm ungrateful of Dan. I'm sure if things were different...well things would be different. and I've been calling Bob Bob. I've been feeling strangely lately. Hey father issues. Comments: bang!bang!.

[17 Jul 2009|04:47pm] [ music | Kevin Devine//Cotton Crush ] I'd like to say that the small, rectangular mattress pad I was currently sitting on didn't smell like urine, or that I truly believed this was the last time I would find myself behind bars; curse words and threats chipping away at their coat of black paint. I would also like to say that my arrest would come as a surprise to my family, that they would be disappointed and worried about what kind of person I was becoming. I would like to say a lot of things, but I can't say any of those things and mean them. For so long I had been on the run, putting what I thought was substantial distance between myself and…well, myself, and until tonight I actually believed that I could escape. Now I was at a dead stop, exactly where I was meant to be, on this worn, plastic pad that reeked of piss, with the entire lineage of my family reverberating inside the otherwise empty cell. No one was surprised when I called with a residue of anger in my voice, requesting bail money. In my family, an arrest was like a rite of passage, something the needed to occur in order to keep in step with tradition. At that point I was a late bloomer, always a few beats off, but I had quickly gained ground that fall; the Fall of Self Destruction as I like to call it. I tried my hardest to sit as lightly and still as possible, hoping any diseases on the surface of the cot wouldn't climb aboard my jeans. I felt ill prepared in that I hadn't any stow away objects on my person that would allow me to carve my own curse words and threats into the black, rotting teeth of the jail cell. I chipped away at my red nail polish, creating what little chaos I could in this suffocating, concrete environment. My mom knew how to get to the station without being told. Comments: bang!bang!.

[17 Jul 2009|03:23am] Creative unraveling. I woke up chanting those words this morning. I spelled them out in that dreamy haze, painted them letter by letter over my eyes in big black print. For the first half of the day, I took it to mean coming undone in a creative way. I thought I could play on that, and spent the day waiting to take a stab at doing so. For the second half of the day, those words became much more literal to me, for I let the beauty of another July day just blink out. I'm forgetting to see. My creativity is unraveling. Comments: bang!bang!.

[03 Jul 2009|06:12pm] I really don't fit in with the rest of my family. I don't know why this is a new observation to me. Comments: bang!bang!.

Fathers Day [22 Jun 2009|04:11am] [ mood | sick ] [ music | Smashing Pumpkins ] Six years ago I wrote you a letter, just like you had been asking me to do for the two years you had spent behind bars. It started off with all the silly meaningless bullshit I did to fill in my days then, just as you requested, but it quickly veered off to what I really wanted you to know. It would have been so easy to get that weight off my chest while you were in prison, and I spent nights worth cursing you and vowing that I would kill you if I ever found out that what I had suspected, was indeed the truth. I felt that I knew it then, deep down something was wrong and after learning a few more things in college, I've got plenty of reason to believe that I was right all along. The fucking signs were right there the whole time, I just didn't know then what they were. Well I know now. But I never sent that letter, because if I WAS wrong, there was no taking that letter back once it was out of my hands. I didn't want to chance hurting you that severely if I were wrong. I’ve overruled my gut feeling for years now, and have grown to look at it as just a string of coincidences. All of that aside, after the way you’ve treated me since you’ve been released…it’s finally built up enough to teeter over and destroy any sort of father-daughter relationship we‘ve managed to keep a hold on. You’ve known me longer than you have your OWN children, and you’ve been my dad since I was 4. That’s 20 years of being treated differently that I’ve just ignored. Fool me once shame on you, fool me 98453 times, fucking shame on me. What kind of person would I be if I just kept taking all your bullshit? Not the kind of person I want to be. So Happy Fathers Day and consider this that last one that involves me. You're not even a stepdad, you're just some drug selling bastard that makes me sick too my stomach whenever I think about you for too long. So I'm done thinking about you. Comments: bang!bang!.

[21 Jun 2009|04:15am] Even if I can actually complete a story for a change, who in their right mind would want to read it? Ughhhhh, fuck insecurities. >:[ Comments: bang!bang!.

[12 Jun 2009|03:30am] [ music | Anthony Green//First Day Of Work At The Microscope Store ] Shit got pretty crazy huh? Now I've got to go back and deal with it. Fuck. I really wish it weren't so. I wish that I could stay here with my new identity and out-of-service cell phone, and continue to live paused in time. It's so quiet and peaceful here. All I have are my own issues to deal with, they're not lost under everyone elses more serious in-your-face-deal-with-right-now-or-die issues. I feel like I could have really sorted myself out. But who am I trying to kid? I was built strong enough to handle myself much more efficiently than I did, I just had a moment where I wedged open the doors and let it all in. I didn't care anymore what happened to me. I was on a freefall, ready to float away and drown. I abandoned a ship that wasn't sinking, just because I was tired of the relentlessness of the same old bullshit. The same old me. Here I am, washed ashore, anew and I can be anyone. Now I just sit here afraid. I fear that I haven't really gotten my head on straight yet, and that I might just dive in right where I left off. All I have to take back with me are a few new pieces of work I can focus on, that I'm already bored with might I add, and a few new ideas that I'm still excited to try out...and I really hope that'll be enough to hold me over until the next distraction lands in my lap. I need to finish school. I need to talk to someone that can help me sort things out because I can't make this decision on my own. There are a million things I would like to do. What would I love to do? I can't commit because I worry over wasting time... and being unhappy in the end...so here I sit twiddling my thumbs contemplating. But the truth is, is that I can't picture myself happy....ever, with anything. I could be on top of the world and not trust it, waiting for it to crumble out from underneath my weight. I need to get on antidepressants. I mean, wth, I wanted to be a psychologist longer than any other of the majors I've choosen over the past 5 years and yet I've put off with dealing with my own depression for years now. That's pretty fucking textbook right there. I'm fucking terrified of living with my aunt again and what's worse is that this time it'll be in her old house. It's going to wreck me when it sinks in. Sure the floors and walls were rebuilt but the whole fucking place screams of Katie whenever I close the front door behind me. I'm going to let that crawl in underneath my skin, and this coming winter is going to be the worst challenge. I love my aunt and we get along swimmingly, but we feed off each others depression and overall general dislike for the human race. I can't keep pushing along like this. I need to belong somewhere already, for fuck's sake. Also, the idea of going back and having to see all those same fucking faces...really, I just don't want to. Being here has really allowed me to take a step back...and wouldn't you know it? I really can't stand most of those people. The hidden agendas, the displaced sense of importance they all carried around...it makes me sick. I'm contemplating getting a new cell number and just digging into life in Redford. I can go figure myself out at OCC in Royal Oak, and hope for the fucking best. To think, this time last year I spent about a whole entire week waking up with considerable amounts of energy before 2pm. Yeah, well I'm still uncertain, but it seems to be another case of hidden agenda that ALMOST fooled me. He was pretty sly. Actually, some days it still fools me...whatever. The feeling is compacting into the small, indestructable stone it was meant to be. Just another to cast into the vast empty shadows. I sleep until 3:30 again. I knew a successful escape was too good to be true. Comments: bang!bang!.

[31 May 2009|01:38am] I really miss my family. What made me think I could do this on my own? I hate being alone. I think I want to go home. Comments: bang!bang!.

You'll change your mind come Monday, and turn your back on me. [30 Mar 2009|04:03pm] [ music | Jimmy Eat World//Cautioners ] Was I right in surrendering? My pride said 'fine, nice knowing you...douche bag!' and flipped him off while I walked away, but some other part that I have grown unaccustomed to said something else quite different. It wanted me to turn around and fight (and not physically for a change) I might have said something to that effect...but I refuse to read the messages. I refuse to even delete them because that means I will have to look at them even fleetingly. I hate being open with my feelings. It makes me vunerable and that makes me feel silly and rather nauseous. I am really messed up. I need to untangle myself to a certain year and straighten everything out from there. Now...How does one go about doing that? I guess just keep these thoughts in mind the next time I meet another person. and swallow all the anxiety down before I become Unbearable Emotionally Abusive Tracy. *le sigh* Comments: bang!bang!.

[29 Mar 2009|02:51am] [ mood | contemplative ] [ music | Pedro The Lion/When They Really Get To Know You They'll Run ] I have come to terms with having an addictive personality. Living far from everyone I know, I have no reason to lie, to hid from the shame of the shameful things I have done. I can look myself in the eye until I focus on what needs to change. I know I say that I don't believe in anything anymore, and that is only partially true. I do believe in the value of love. I know that everything is only a reaction, but that doesn't take away from all the great things that love can make happen. There is still human in here somewhere. I've really been losing my human element. I've been losing my abilities to feel most emotions, but thats only because I haven't been in any situations that would provide them. I feel abandonment because I have abandoned everyone. I believe that when you haven't felt a certain way in so long, its much harder to recognize that feeling as it does happen. I should have taken a moment to register myself with myself. I feel disappointment because I really fucked things up with someone that would have been kick ass to have around. He was probably what I have been waiting not so patiently for for the past 4 years, and I really went ahead and made sure he would want nothing to do with me. Why did I do that? Because I am warped and scared shitless of being close to another person. Why am I scared? Because I am always a let down to other people, and I am tired of being left behind when I am no longer good enough. I know I have to find a way to like myself in order to like other people the right way. I said and did things to him that just doesn't make sense at all. As soon as I found out that I really liked him, it was like a switch flipped on in my brain and I became a completely different person. One that doesn't know how to be nice, or how to take a compliment let alone give one. I did and said the opposite of everything I wanted to do. Was I testing him? Perhaps I was, but what enforced me to carry on in such a manner was that I already knew he was going to leave me, and I was angry. He leaves. Thats his thing...and that is the thing that cripples me. It was really the worst possible combination I can think of and at the worst possible timing. Maybe the Earth was testing me, to see if I was ready. To see if I had made the changes necessary in maintaining a healthy relationship. So I fell in prelove with someone perfect in everyway except that he was prone to wanderlust. Things could have been so much different if just one of the dozen details were changed. If he didn't put in for a transfer a couple weeks before he met me, if I hadn't enrolled in too many credits, if I had gone to pick him up the one time he asked, if I had just dropped all my classes and ran when asked, if I had just paid the 5 dollars at luna and watched the shitty cover band I would not have gone to Gusolines in the first place. if if if if if if mother fucking if. I really tire of ruining my own life. There is no recovering this time. He's gone and I will wait another 200 years until I find someone on the same wavelength. In the mean time I have completely adopted everything I know about his lifestyle. I mean really. It's fucked up and if I weren't completely alone I would be rather ashamed. I read the same authors, listen to the same music, acquire the same addictions... I should get a rainbow colored 'W.W.C.D.' wristband to wear around my wrist. Addictive personality. Doors were just opened and I am thankful for it. I'm always searching for a truth, and it's nice to wear someone elses and yes, it calms my screaming veins. They are suffocating and I'm pretty sure they hate me right now. My heart wants to rope up all the arteries and veins and just abandon this fucking metallic warehouse. I am going to make changes here. I am going to learn to listen to people when they talk. I used to do that just find. Now, not so much. I need to pay attention to details and forget the forest. Big pictures are made beautiful by the care taken in it's details. I am going to concentrate. Whenever I feel the static rolling in, I will shake it back. I will turn the music down, take the headphones off my head, turn the fan to a softer hum. When I find myself too over/underwhelmed I will take the short trip to the ocean. I could sit on the sand and stare at it for hours. Everything makes a certain kind of sense then and I am renewed slightly. I can get up and walk away in the dark smiling, and mean it. The ocean can't make everything wrong right, but it gives me hope and helps me feel less alone in my heart. People all come with the desire to stare at a body of water. We are together in our desire to want to experience something so beautiful and so unobtainable. Perhaps we all just want to go back from whence we came. I feel united then and I smile at people and feel like myself, and not Wednesday Adams, which is a very promising thing. I think I will go to Santa Monica Monday and watch the sea birds play tag with the ocean. I'm embarrassed that I was so adamant about getting closure. and also a little annoyed that he called it that in the first place. I think I'm doing alright now only because he actually responded to me for a change. I'm sure it will sink in later that he said he was finished with me. I did it to myself, so that's who I will change. Comments: bang!bang!.

[25 Mar 2009|04:54pm] The static was building up over the debris, drowning and rolling over me. rubbing over my eyes like layers of sand. they were vacant but quickly filled in with television images and rancid blue glowing promises chipped fingernails dug deep into tomorrow's sunset Well know that I live with eyes shut since I met you I've learned my lesson the hard way The eyes are the window to the soul so I ran to the ocean to clean up I shouldn't say anything else I should leave you be but my entire body wants to scream and there's been a recent pulling in my knees I can't sit still, and I can't go home. Everyone has everything down to a science. I'm really sorry, but please answer your phone. I don't want to know that I let you down I can't be close to you, it's when you feel the farthest away. but I really miss you. Comments: bang!bang!.

I know where the important tracks lie on a mix tape. I've made my fair share. [02 Mar 2009|01:18am] [ mood | weird ] [ music | Ra Ra Riot//Can You Tell ] I'm slightly alarmed. Since when can I be that person to another? It makes me feel slightly sick and guilty, because I don't deserve his affection and never knew. I wouldn't ignore it, that's a terrible thing to put another through. To pull in one direction with little to no effort on the other side, is enough to drive one to desperate actions. I myself am drowning in the end of someone else's rope, its terrible. At least he shows slightly more self-restraint than I have in my situation. I'm wondering if I'm less crazy because I've realized how insane I've been acting, or if I'm more insane than ever. Perhaps in another time when I am slightly less terrified and more put together I will be able to stop long enough to catch my breath when his is around. Now is not that time and I've got to get away from my one sided tug-o-war. Being around here without makes me nauseous. Tuesday morning I will be leaving, thanks to pessimistic mechanics and a new radiator. Now I'm running from more than all of my failures. I'm running from myself as someones failure at this moment, but I'm certain he doesn't see my face in everyone and hear my words in all this fucking silence like I do his. Comments: bang!bang!.

[20 Feb 2009|02:59pm] I find that my feelings are the most honest at that thin smokey line between sleep and being awake. Feelings are no longer accompanied by thoughts during that time. They are pure, unrestrained, and all consuming. Lately, I've been terrified. Not only of leaving, but being the farthest away that I can be without leaving the country. Not only being the farthest way, but the farthest away and entirely alone. However, I wake up in the late afternoon, the vertigo dissipates and I realize that I've felt this way for a couple years now; I am that thin smokey line between sleep and being awake. I need to choose one over the other. I used to have my mother to turn to. I had to tell her twice that my grandmother has died. If she's incapable of retaining information of that magnitude, how could I ask her to listen to my pathetic concerns? My sisters, my aunts, even my best friend, yawn when I open my mouth. Yet they feel they can pass judgement when I begin to stumble in the streets in search for something greater, something that listens. I'm struggling now, but I perfer the struggle against being docile; being sessile; attached to one spot. I was recently told to stop helping my family and by people that are entirely dependant on their families. The hypocricy made me gag, the irony floored me. Now, I'm just going to get up and walk away, because the humor is likely to kill me. I need out of this radius and to float about in even greater circles. The circle used to be the shape that scared me most. I've accepted it since. Life is one huge repeating round-about. The world is what you make it, and mine is meaningless. I mean that in positive terms of course. Meaningless, so I'm going to get out there and do whatever the fuck I want until I'm meaninglessly rotting in the meaningless ground. Inbetween I will find some personal truths. Something that is my own that will help me cope with the empty. What's so wrong with empty? I will not embrace a religion in order to fight it off; in order to cope with the loneliness. I will embrace the void; I will run with it; turn it inside out; wear it over my body. What difference does it make that all emotions are just chemical reactions that evolved over millions of years to help one survive and reproduce? Round-about. Be with whatever person makes those reactions the most intense. Release those endorphins; get that high; go through that withdrawl when they leave you, and then do it all over again. Round-about. Relish in the void; I will frolic in it. "Say what you will about the sweet miracle of unquestioning faith, I consider a capacity for it terrifying and absolutely vile!" - Kurt Vonnegut Comments: 4 comments|bang!bang!.

[04 Feb 2009|05:48pm] [ music | smashing pumpkins//set the ray to jerry ] While I think about him a little less these days, he's become this vauge outline in my life. Something made of shadows and haunting. I barely knew him, and those moments we shared I do not allow myself to think about. They were great, strong, true, and they are gone. So why torment myself with something that threatens to be so tangible? His presence is trailing infront of me every step of the way, and its enough. He was everything I wanted to be but hadn't the courage for. I both envied and hated how easy it was for him to pick up and go. He's met me before, and he's left me before in another state just as easy. Look at me now; three weeks give or take and I'll be on my way across the country in search of experience. I would have loved him. I wasn't good enough. I was too hard and faithless. He needed soft waves and white button-ups. Sunshine and freckles. Gold sandals and ivy. I came with scars and t-shirts. Velcro shoes and rain. Even after that week of agonizing want and uncertianty mixed with panic; ignored texts and my wordless goodbye, I would still drop everything and run to him. He took the thought out of the feeling. Chemical reactions became love letters through snailmail. I felt it. His presence cut through the buildup and pulled me out. Now I wrap the wool back around me and breathe in the dull. What is he doing right now? and does he ever miss me? I can't believe I let myself care this much. It's been months, and I feel pathetic. Comments: 2 comments|bang!bang!.

[28 Jan 2009|06:51pm] A glow of radiant light left them paralyzed. They dropped what they were doing, who they were, and what they previously believed in, to stare hungrily at it until it was gone. It was just a blink in their eternal night that diminished before any one of them could reach out towards it. Now they sit addicted and waiting, left stranded high and dry, forever bound together like groping bones and joints stretching out to cover over a map. Left in pieces, they are your something solid. Hope clouds their eyes like the ghost of a flash; now they’re blind to the vibrations of beauty. They step on broken glass to grasp wildly at what is forever frozen. The world holds it's breath in your wake. Grey has swallowed electricity’s colors, the wind has died down and everything has settled. Dust accumulates on their shoulders while their brightest light is off chasing the sun. They silently beg for rain to ensure you'll never return and to wash away the static that's changed who they’ve become. You threw something heavy to the weightless and watched as everyone slowly lost their balance. It comforts you to know your name and fingerprints are still on their lips, and can not be easily erased. It helps you to exist; colors in the empty spaces between your lines, your meaningless words, and loveless life, that leaves your heart blind. Well here's to you. I hope you find your light, as I once did in you. I hope it slows you down to a crawl and quickly twists away from you. I’ll be the rain when you wake alone and sober in twilights gloom. I’ll be the cold brought on by nights latest view, as the freezing pillowcase screams with the voice of a choir next to you, “Deception, you're nothing but the eye of the storm without a center and no way to keep warm. You'll never set your sights on the sky until you open your eyes to what you've become. Hallow havoc chasing it's tail, after a high brighter than the sun.” Comments: bang!bang!.

[01 Jan 2009|09:43pm] Ah depression can manifest in many ways. Grey hairs in your two inch roots. In an empty outbox when you've finally heard from the one person in the entire world that you've been dying to hear from. In a playlist replaying one song for three hours. In the clutter of your room, with a path cleared away from the door to your bed. In a cellphone bill of 460 dollars, with only 24 minutes used and 2149 texts sent. Everything is flatlining. It's nice to give up the fight. Comments: bang!bang!.

[18 Dec 2008|08:41pm] I want to live alone in a shitty studio in a shitty town. This shittiness will be complete when I realize all that I own can easily be placed in the back of my tiny foreign sedan.The only furniture I'll have is a beat up desk that I dragged in from somebody's curb. It'll probably have a wobbly leg that I will keep balanced with past due bills. Sitting on top of said dumpster desk will be an inexpensive laptop that I probably received as a farewell gift, because I will most certainly be too poor to even afford my eyes wandering off the 99 cent menu at Taco Bell. I will have a terrible job that will make me want to jerk the wheel to my '92 Honda Accord suddenly, plunging into the icy barrier between life and death. The only thing that will keep my hand steady time and again will be the fact that I am free; free to spend every spare moment at that desk, concentrating on one of the only things that continually matters in my life. That one thing is writing, and I know that I've got a lot of work to do before I can successfully jump this hurdle of adolescence I can't seem to get over. The only time I find myself writing these days is well past midnight. I think that has something to do with my stubbornness and how unwilling I am to let another day go by feeling like a complete failure. When the feeling gets real bad, I drink coffee and stay awake for hours on end. That hasn't happened in a while, but I can feel that its making its rounds. I'm suffocating in stresses of a life that I can't break away from because I haven't the courage or even a big enough support group to give me a false sense. I need Oz but instead am working towards a degree. If I had the option I would choose both paths, the yellow and the red. One is over nearly as soon as it begins. The future is like a wild creature that I will never reign over. I believe I have the heart and the brains; perhaps its the innocence I lack. Comments: bang!bang!.

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