Has Christmas lost its Magic?

It's the Sunday after Thanksgiving and my family has gone to get a tree. I'm sitting here thinking: wasn't it just summer? When did November happen? And now, all of the sudden, it's Christmas season. My mother literally took down all of the fake leaves and plastic turkey decorations and on the SAME DAY put up the christmas decorations! How did this happen? It's almost as if we go through the motions to conform to society's demands. I've always wondered what would happen if one year I just didn't put up any decorations. Or if I put up different decorations instead. Aka pink flamingos and neon and a Miami-themed Christmas. I would be shunned by my family. Remember as a kid, Christmas held all of the magic a year could bring? I feel like I hit puberty and that was it. Gone. Will it come back once I have my own family and my own kids? I sincerely hope so. Is it wrong of me to want the magic back? Or do I have to grow up and face the realities of the real world? My parents have come back with an 8 foot tree. The ceiling (at its highest point) is 14 feet. This Christmas is already shaping up to be a disaster; with a miniature tree in a house built for a large one. I feel like Charlie Brown already. They should have brought back the saddest tree they could find. At least then I would have felt better about saving the saddest one. Why didn't you bring back a Real Tree? Something Huge and Awesome to look forward to decorating? Live a little!! Bring the magic back!! We have an 8 ft. tree that is dwarfed by a high ceiling. Christmas is officially dead to me this year and it hasn't even started. Hell, it's not even December yet!! I will never understand. Why not go big or go home? It IS Christmas for all intents and purposes. Do you stop caring after your kids graduate from highschool? Or are the kids supposed to stop caring as well? I just don't get it.

love-fucked

How can I be his world, when he can't make my heart melt?
Is that a prerequisite for true love? That warm, tingly, numbing feeling in your heart? If it is, I'm very much not in love.
I'm lost, confused, scared...
Do I have feelings for someone else or is the grass just greener? How will I ever know?

Why is life and living so synonymous with love to the world? There's more to life than love, but why can't I live it?
I thought I was ready for the life he's pushing on me, but I see more each day that I'm far from ready and I may never be ready. Why put your heart into something with a 50% failure rate. If it were money I was investing, would I do it?? Nope, definitely not taking the 50/50 chance, so why with my heart and my life?

This writing is as confused as my head and my heart... shifty, scattered...

I know no one has the answers. I know I am the only one that knows what is in my heart.

I can't stand the idea of breaking his heart, but how ridiculous am I to just hold on because I'm afraid to hurt him. Yes, it's going to hurt me too, badly. Over a year and a half... he's the closest to me, he's my comfort when I'm sad or hurt, my punching bag when I'm angry. But it just doesn't feel right. I wish I could hate him. Loving someone makes it so much harder to tell them the truth. The simple sentence... I'm not in love with you anymore. It breaks my heart to say it, so I can only imagine what it will do to him.

I hate this feeling. Nothing is worse. I'd rather not wake up tomorrow then go through this. Fuck love.

just rambling

Lately time has been passing so slowly, yet I feel my age every day. I can feel myself sinking into the day by day monotony that I've worked so hard to avoid. I read too much. I read stories of fantastic love that lasts forever; I read murder mysteries; I read fantasy novels of vampires; I read historic fiction and how-to books. I read to escape. I am screaming inside for a bit of cultural stimulation. Yet nothing comes to hand. Little things. Little seconds of joy have become the definition of life for me. I live for the weekend or day I can spend with some good friends. I love the way your hand feels in mine when I hold it. I love sleeping next to you... I've missed it for four years. Riding on the subway back from a bar. I'm a bit buzzed and I'm sitting down next to a couple who are, of all things, reading. I try to catch pieces of sentences but I don't want to be found out so mostly I stare at the floor. You are standing above me talking to a friend and holding my hand at the same time. I feel everything in this little memory I've stored. The sway of the subway. The hard plastic seat with the awful carpet-like covering. The smell of too many people in too small a space. I feel so connected to everything in that moment, simply because I'm connected to you. And I feel safe. This breaks the monotony. A simple connection to someone or something. And I find that I crave and need it. To connect. It's strange and ironic that I can't be myself until I'm connected to something else. I've even taken up knitting because I need something to do with my hands and it wastes time during the days I'm not working. In a strange way I feel connected to the string because my hands are shaping the scarf or sock it will become. I hope someday I won't need any connection to survive. But for now it's all I have.

100

Willowchronicles just had its 100th post and i think its perfect average

average

Am I a sick pessimist for not agreeing with the feel-good concept that everyone "has a purpose" on this earth?
I don't care if that's what I am, because I don't buy into that bull.
Some people are here just to live and die. I hate how our culture feeds into children's minds that they will grow up to be some great deal of a person. Society is doing them more harm than anything.
Am I saying we tell the kids they're destined for an average life? No. But we can tell them the truth: that some people become something great-mostly due to good timing and a stroke of luck but that not everyone is going to grow up to be a famous singer/dancer/politician/millionaire. They should know that the vast majority of people are just that-people who live their normal lives and accept the luck of others surrounding them.
Furthermore, we should tell them that skill or talent is never enough. You must also be beautiful, and if not-well forget. Fame.

Cosmic mis understanding

This title popped up when i went to type a title into the box so i guess its fate. I've been going through so many emotions lately, that i feel like i'm on the verge of tears. Being home reminds me so much why i left and at the same time why i miss it. I actually sometimes miss the things here more than the people. Thats not to say i don't love and appreciate my friends because i do its just weird to be this flaoting figure that pops in and out randomly throughouth their lives. I'm never home long enough to get used to being back and to get into the flow of things. I can't talk to my parents for fear of judgment or fear of me going off on their narrow minded ignorance. I can't talk to my brother because i'm afraid he wouldn't understand. Also i'm afraid our relationship as i want it is beyond repair. I've been staying with my parents yet i havent had a real conversation with my mom yet. My little sisters sit home and it hurts me to know that i won't see them for 3 years. The one sibling i can relate to is 3000 miles away. I feel like a stranger in my own home. I don't belong here anymore. This is not my home i'm not sure where i belong or if i ever will. Maybe this is my role in life to always be out of place.

Habit

I wish I was a smoker so I could be high right now. It's either that or three glasses of pinot noir. That'll do the job.
I'm sitting here and you're fighting with someone who's going to end up hating you if we continue talking. I don't understand it; I never will. I feel responsible and sad and a small part of me doesn't care. Because I've come to the decision that I need to be a bit selfish every now and then. And not everyone is going to like you, no matter what you do.
Life has been hard to us. And yet isn't it just decisions we've been making all along? Does fate even intervene? Or do we make our own destiny? Maybe someone up there is laughing at our plight.
Talking about anything and everything can be dangerous. Giving your opinion can be even worse.
I'm your California. You're my Europe. Does it matter if we don't live to see them? I would kill to sit in a cafe with you in Florence or Barcelona or Nice and discuss the meaning of life, lack thereof, or the weather. I would give anything to drive the 101 all the way to Seattle, cross the Bixby Bridge and take in the Redwoods. I'd buy you a Fedora and we could live off of cups of coffee and good conversation. You always did seem to have the gift of making the sun shine a bit brighter. I feel more alive, more connected. To something. I may never know what that something is. I know two things: Life is short. And I could make a habit out of you.

These Are The Days

Above my closet door is a sign that says "LIVE" in big block letters.
I thought I was being sophisticated when I bought it for $35 on sale at Pier 1.
I put it above the closet because I was told it would fit there nicely.
And I was too afraid to put it above my bed-
Where it could (and would) somehow come off the nail, fall on my head and kill me in my sleep
[It weighs about ten pounds]
Strange and ironic, that.
To be killed by a sign that says "LIVE." Also ironic: the fact that I put the sign where someone told me to put it. Hope I don't actually live that way in the future.

In about 17 minutes I'm due across town at my grandparents' house.
To wash all of their windows.
Vinegar and newspaper. I found out that this is an old Italian remedy for washing your windows. Apparently newspaper doesn't leave streak marks and your windows will be nice and shiny.
I'm going to smell like Vinegar and newspaper for the rest of the day.
They paid me for the job. But it's almost not worth it to have my 78 year old 5'2" Nana watching me and handing me pieces of newspaper as I wash her windows. Have you ever had someone watch you while you're doing a job? Not entirely comforting. Just leave me in peace and let me do what I have to do. That's what I brought the IPod for- So I woudn't have to listen to you critique me because I missed some moisture on the bottom of the sill there. Next week I'm supposed to clean all of their rafters. Oh boy. Can't wait.
I forgot to mention that I'm jobless at the moment. This is their way of handing me $100. "Clean our house, Leila. We'll give you some money." They know I wouldn't take it for nothing. Or at least this is what I tell myself to make myself feel better.
I have about $300 to my name and a credit card that I've hidden so I can't use it anymore. I have a doctorate and no job. Glad I spent all of those years and all that money studying so that I wouldn't be able to have a sizeable income when I get out. I've been slowly coming to terms with that; I have no qualms about waitressing in the mean time. Oddly enough having no life plan has been liberating in some way. I want to travel and see the world. Yet here I am stuck at home at 25 living with my parents and resenting the fact that I feel like I'm back in highschool. And the fact that I have no money to do said traveling.

This morning my mother said she doesn't buy anything from Costco anymore because there is too much food for only her and my dad. Literally she said "It's only me and your father here now."
I've been living at home for more than a month. Thanks for including me. Really appreciated that one, Mom.

So here I am. In dire need of a day job. In fact it's the afternoon and I'm still in pajamas. Loving Life. These Are The Days. Better get dressed so I can get around to those windows.
------------------------------

Phoenix

Back and Forth
We sway like
The undersides of trees
When you know a storm
Is coming. Soon
Back and Forth
We play this game
Two fighters making ready
Circling before the first
Move is made
It's so easy being
With you. Alone.
Gathering clouds and wind
Picks up. I can feel it
There in my soul.
My body burns to have you.
Blood and water mix.
Flames seem so easy to
Quench when you are here
And yet. And yet.
Hold back and fear takes
What little I have left
After the storm that is
You
Take me and leave me wanting.
Please. Stop.
Ease this or let it go.
Fulfillment or release
Needs to end one way or another.
It's so easy being
With You. Alone.

grey matter

The words will come to me...

Lately, my thoughts and emotions are headless turkeys.
My life is passing by while I stare out the window trying to follow road signs so I don't miss my exit.
But the road signs are useless.
How did I go from being a sweet little toehead grinning princess to a confused orb of 401k, HSA, IRA, BA and any other group of numbers and letters that are supposed to mean something to me?
Somewhere between My Little Pony mornings and enrolling in a 401k my essense jumped ship. Well here I am aboard the S.S. Corporate and my first thought is to throw a life saver to my essense, but maybe my essense needs to toss me a life saver and pull me off the barge.

I want my fairy-tale ending mindset back. I don't care if there is no sparkling castle at the end for me, I want to hold onto the delusion that their could be.
I want to look at my parents like they're mommy and daddy again and not my adult peers. I want my aunts and uncles to be as cool as I thought they were.
Sounds pathetic... like a slowly chunking woman trying to squeeze into her seafoam green prom dress... its not like that though-I just want me back.

So me, listen, if you're out there swimming in the infinite sea of life.. keep an eye out for me-I may just take the plunge and join me again. I'm tired of being the hollow easter bunny with an eye missing behind the saran wrap of life. Its either I find me or I pray for the saran to fall and take my breath away and smother the misery of my seemingly disgruntled existence.

Woodstock

Over the past week I've been so depressed for the craziest reason...
I can't believe I'm even writing this-but it's anonymous, I've written worse, I suppose.
So as you may know, this past weekend marked the 40th anniversary of Woodstock. And with all the media attention it is still getting, including a new major motion picture coming out in a week, I find myself extremely depressed at the fact that I am a member of my generation.
What I wouldn't give to be able to go back in time and be at Woodstock. This massive crowd of young people gathered together in the name of music... in awful weather, shortage of food, lack of shelter... managed to coincide peacefully for a weekend.
I actually get angry thinking about the amazing talent all together for one reason-loving music. When I llok at the bands and performers of those years I laugh at what people consider "good music" today. Nickelback? Seriously?? Every one at woodstock shits all over Nickelback and Fall Out Boy and The PussyCat Dolls, and Lady effing Gaga. These aren't even musicians in my eyes. They're jokes. But what's worse... is everyone that buys into their crap!!

Creedence Clearwater Revival
Jimi Hendrix
Grateful Dead
Joan Baez
The Who
Joe Cocker
Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young
Johnny and Edward Winter
ARE YOU KIDDING ME???????

What I can't wrap my mind around is the recent criticism and degfamation of the festiival in the current media!!
How can people (who, first of all, weren't even there) suggest that Woodstock is overhyped??
Has there EVER been such an assembly of talent since then?
If there were an equivalent today of the '69 woodstock that included today's popular music there would be more fights and deaths than you can imagine. Not to mention... a bunch of talentless attention-craving ass clowns on stage acting like primad donas and likely refusing to play in rainy conditions. Along with a bunch of pussy onlookers refusing to be out in the rain and taking it out on eachother.

I wish I had been there!

we're too different

the other night as i sat across the table from you at dinner
you finally opened up to me about what happened to you
"i'm damaged goods" you said. "the only person i've talked to about this in 3 years is dead." you probably should go to therapy.
i offered to listen to you so you can talk to someone about it
but i could see the gears turning in your mind as you disregarded that option
you told me that you had put your heart on the line and she broke you
and to this day you're still so angry
three years later
even though she's marrying someone else
you said that you didn't care for a long time. about anyone except yourself.
and you used girls to your advantage even though you didn't give a shit about them
you looked me right in the eye and said "you're all the same. you all think you're the one who is going to fix me."
i was taken aback because that was perhaps the most honest thing you've said to me in ten years.
and the worst part about it is that i used to be one of those girls.
who fought to keep you
until i realized you weren't the person i thought you were and that we're too different
however. you still don't know to this day what you did to me
you said "i don't know what i did to deserve to be hurt so much."
you don't know. to this day.
i felt like screaming "IT WAS ME. YOU HURT ME!!!"
how could you not know?!?!
i loved you for six years. SIX YEARS!
thank God that part of my life is over.
karma is a bitch. and i am too for thinking you got what you deserved
for never loving me back
all in all i'm glad i'm over that part of my life
just boggles my mind you still don't have a clue
i'm better off and i've grown up since then
but how can you still not know?

weight on my back

Caramel colored hair
Deliciously plump pale pink lips
Sense of humor that tickles my innards
A touch that could melt the Arctic ice caps
A passion for all things similar that makes my heart race
And a longing for another girl...
You're blazing blue eyes look for her
Your sad heart waits for her texts
But your confused mind calls to me for comfort and advice
Stop confusing me.

What am I saying? I have someone
Someone who loves me, wants me, and needs me
The way we all dream of as little girls
And all I can think about is how I'd rather it was him...
I do love the one I'm with.
Will I ever be satisfied?

If I had the one I so longed for...
Would there be another along the way I'd rather have?
And why do I say have?
Like you're MINE.
How sick.
Where is my mind lately?

Fans

nothing beats it
the rush, the lights, the people screaming your name as you walk onto stage
part of me was born to be a rock star
i even play the part with crazy rings and too much dark eye makeup
and i love it
when the fans sing your lyrics that you spent hours
agonizing over
in the basement with electric glowing lamps and reverb
and the smell of pot permeates the vibrations of the bass
i almost want to pick up smoking to complete the image
someone pass me a clove
and give me the mic
so i can try my best to sound like susan tedeschi
downing shots of honey to coat my throat so i can hit all the right notes
feels so good to lean on my guitarist as he plays and i sing
its a lifestyle i never want to lose
the fans make it. but you make it your own.

heart locket... go figure

When I was a little girl, my favorite piece of jewelry was my heart locket. I thought it was so mysterious that you could keep a tiny picture inside, locked up, only for you to know about unless you wanted to share what was inside with someone else.
Here I am... 20-something and my heart locket is still my favorite, only it's not a piece of jewelry now. It's emotional hardware. Locked, sealed, hanging around my neck, resting on my chest.
Every time I open the locket my life does a tailspin that leaves me dizzy and sick to my stomach with the ever-repeating never-answered question ringing in my head "why did I open my locket?"

It's like the locket... there's 2 sides. Two convenient, or not so convenient compartments. On one hand I hate when my locket is closed. It's a lonely cold feeling, like being hidden in the dark corner of my musty basement I was so terrified of when I was little. That icky, all alone, dark, unsafe, jittery feeling. And then the locket is open and it's that very opposite public feeling. Like feeling naked in front of your junior class in high school with a big zit on your nose and your weird birth mark only your mom and dad know about. That exposed, embarrassed, all-to-intimate feeling you try so intensely claw and scrape away from.
Once the locket is opened you're left with a scraped knee and elbow, stinging, dirty, with bits and pieces of dirt left to remind you that it was you that opened the locket in the first place.

Dear Andy

you died last week.
from stage 4 melanoma.
you were 27
i wish i had known you better
although i feel as if i did know you to some extent
i sat next to you for an entire year in every class
for the first year of law school
before you were diagnosed
and my mind would wander back to you sometimes
wonder what would have happened if you hadn't had cancer
you were tall dark and handsome
i had a small crush on you that would have made you blush if you had known
you had these amazing hands that seemed so competent
and your eyes- you could get lost in them and every time i looked in them it was a comfort to me
you said i was beautiful. you said it twice to me. i'll never forget. you said it so casually like it was meant for me only. yet it was in front of others
i loved the way you were so calm and your sarcasm and humor was so contagious
your voice was always steady no matter what. as if nothing could break you
and then something did.
you fought for two years. with a strength that no one could have had
i used to ask God to take away some of your pain and give it to me because I could handle it. my body was stronger and i wanted to alleviate some of your suffering.
I didn't go to your funeral or your wake. I wanted to. But in the end I didn't want to remember you like that. I wanted my tall dark handsome friend back. And my last memory of you is in my car laughing. I'll keep that with me always. I wish.... I wish alot of things.
I know you're out of pain now. And I hope you're in a better place. You didn't get a fair shot at this life. I hope you're next one is better and that maybe I'll bump into you in the next. I hope I do.
I miss you Andy
I'll always miss you.
If God has a plan for you than your next life will probably be pretty amazing.
I'll carry you with me always.
A little piece of you in my heart.

True Love Way

nostalgia is a bitch sometimes
in love and scared i have to make a decision
that may change my life and everyone in it
i've never been faithful to anyone except myself
ive done what i wanted and never looked back
looking back means regret
you keep your life separated because its easier
to do what you want
i have to make a decision
that may un-separate everything and put it all together
for once
i'm scared shitless
this may be the end of my life and the beginning of something else
a new one? all i've known is the last. separate is easy and its what i know
bringing everything together is whats hard
am i ready? do i take the leap?

How Long Do I

hold onto something even though I know it goes nowhere every time? When do I cut myself off? Can I? Addiction is a harsh word and yet its so appropriate. I can't even call you for fear of getting too connected and involved. "It's not my place" I tell myself and that you've made a choice for worse or for better. Yet I can't. quite. let. go. How can you cut someone off who is one of only a handful of people that you can spend hours talking to and feel as if only 5 min have gone by? Impossible. I know. I KNOW we could never be together. I don't even know if it would work. Don't even know if I want you in that way (sexual attraction aside). I feel we're too similar in some aspects- we'd drive each other crazy with our "what ifs" and generalizations about the world around us. We'd either talk each other to death or have way too much sex and get nothing done. I would be the epitome of satisfied around you. Like a cat with an endless supply of cream. And I wonder if that's even a bad thing- are you supposed to suffer a bit for the overall satisfaction of life? All I know is this: I just want, crave, need the connection we have. Because I don't have it with anyone else and why would I want to anyway. No one else makes me think the way you do; makes me wonder about things the way you do. How do you shut yourself off from that? I can't. Straight up. I'm an addict and I barely talk to you. I wonder what would happen if we ever spent more than a few hours in each others' company. Well. I know what would happen. Hence the reason we really can't or shouldn't. If nothing else remember this: I wish you the best of happiness in whatever you do. You're a muse in all things for me. I feel more connected to everything when I talk to you. So in that sense I love you for who you are and just hope that you don't lose yourself along the way. Because it would be a tragedy to leave the person you are now behind. No matter what happens remember that above all else. And when we're 80 and geriatric you'll be the first person I look for to tell about my life. Because we'd be pretty hilarious and even more long-winded by that time. I'm going to need you eventually. I hope you show up when I do. The ultimate redemption- thats what I would call it. You know why. And so, for now- continue texting.

I I Lines:polar

Parallel:1)extending in the same direction, equidistant at all points, and never converging or diverging
2)having the same direction, course, nature, or tendency; corresponding; similar; analogous
Both definitions suffice, yet I like the 2nd definition better. I feel that's why I can't let go, no matter how distant or how much I try. We are like magnets sometimes pulling towards each other, but if one of us turns the other way, or we get to close we repulse each other. Never converging no matter how close we get it. 5 years. 5 long weird years and you are one part of my life that is like this little hidden secret. Well I guess that's because you've never been part of my life. I don't say that to be harsh, it's simply a fact. Yet, I feel like I've carried you everywhere I've ever gone to. Every tune I've heard you've heard it to, any movie that's moved me to tears or kept me up at night I know you've seen it to. At least that's what I told myself imagining you there with me enjoying the same thing for the same reasons. Sure, there were times I forgot about you or it didn't matter as much but you were probably just as equidistant. However you always comeback like a migraine headache just something I know that I will always deal with. So the phone calls have been replaced with texts because just like tequila I know if I have too much of you I'll wake up with a hangover. You have always been my idea, my grand unfair unfathomable idea. And sometimes I treat you like an idea instead of a person. I use you but don't know you. Sometimes I wonder if I'm just wicked lonely and your the closest thing to what I think I want. Why in 5 years are you both in my life at the same exact fucking capacity. Was I that vulnerable and impressionable at that point in my life. Is that all this is, something I cant shake like a bad cold or a chronic disease. Is our relationship parallel to my other relationship. A piece of nostalgia that I don't know what to do with. There have been more bad memories, frustrations, and hurt than there has been good times and laughs. So what brings us back, back to these same ever extending lines. Why do we do this strange hurtful dance. For every good move I make I step on your feet twice. Sometimes i just wished you hate me and vice a versa. But, hates too strong a word and so is love so what is this. This sickness with no name this mutual attraction,.... apathetic love? I don't know if I'm more afraid that you could never be everything that I want and need or that you COULD be everything that I want and need. I almost told you I loved you but what good would it have done. I don't know if I would know what to do with it. How much longer can this go on. This mutual torturing. It can't last forever, or can it. I would be fine with X or \/ but I don't know how much longer I can with these haunting II lines.

Safety in 1

The emptiness surrounds me comfortably like one of my dad's old sweatshirts. It always smelled like the attic old and dusty and safe. The attic was the one place where I could go to be myself. I would sit there among the junk, the past Christmas presents, outgrown clothes, and all the books I read three times.I would sit, sweat and imagine. I would imagine how much better I would be than all the grownups I saw around me. I would do it different just the way my neighbor spoke about in her high school commencement speech. The world was mine for the taking, after all the children are our future right?(guess you were too wrapped up in the present to remember that cute little slogan.)I had so many ideas that were stewing underneath the fort I made out of a tricycle and my dad's old courdoruy jackets. I would fill that jacket and those shoes that I was told were always too big for me. I would look through my attic window dusty,old and safe and I would watch the kids playing while I pondered where I would be in 10 years. Well that was 4 years ago.That was before I realized it's not worth it too ponder the future not when you two payments late on your car note and your cable is getting cut off. What if we became everything our parents wanted us to be. What if I am everything my parents wanted me to be. I don't know and I know it doesn't help to ask questions that have no answers but i can't help it. I am in my fort made of brick and all the junk I've collected over the years. My own personal attic except it lacks character and it doesn't feel safe. Its not safe because its way too real and life has answered most of the questions I've asked. Well, maybe not answered but stopped me from looking.I look outside my window and I see myself doing all the same things they are and I fucking hate my neighbor and her lies.

Mutual feelings. I just pressed back space for about 5 minutes. I had originally started this post with the very beginning. The beginning of when I felt love about 5 years ago.... with my ex fiance. The reason for the post was to share the happiness I feel now. Slowly but surely I was going to get into my new life, my new feelings. I initially wanted to start with what id been through in the past. Then I thought...why? It's not worth it. It's over. I'm never going to fully accept the happiness I feel now until I totally let go of the past. It felt great. To write it all down and then delete it all. bye bye. I was thinking I should have just left it and just started writing in a new direction but it wasn't even worth it.

Where I am now is where I want to be, no matter how I got here.

He has goals. Plans. I've seen his spreadsheets, he has it all figured out. I like that. He's incredibly sweet and thoughtful. I find him doing things that not even I would have thought of. He parties and has fun but all in excellent moderation. He's sexual in the most beautiful way when it seems perfect to be beautiful. He's sexual in the most animalistic way when it seems perfect to be animalistic. No day is the same and I never know what to expect. He's enhanced life. He doesn't ever want to be the center of my universe. He says he just wants to be an added bonus. He says he was happy before he met me but now he's happier than he'd ever been. He lets me be me... silly, extremely happy, sad, bitchy... and he loves every side. He always says... "remember how we met; we didn't really know each other but you wanted to play Frisbee and I played with you. Then you had your wisdom teeth taken out and I've never seen anything cuter in my life than your swollen cheeks and your sad face." He's intelligent about things I know nothing about and vice verse. Its a constant exchange of ideas.

I got a promotion at work. I love my job and my progress. Right now things seem tough money-wise, but I know one day my dedication to my job will pay off.

From here, this place, this place of where i want to be, there's nothing else to do but move on to the next dream. I'm happy you're here for the move.

Excerpts from my recipe box.

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WTF

WTF happened to this blog?

I hope i'm not wrong on this one.

pocket full of posies

I've spent some time considering the ways of life... here's what I've come to----->

It's much like the ocean: life is vast, deep, full of beauty, terror, and much unknown: all waiting to be washed up on our shores for us to sort through.
Life is what you make of it. An ugly oyster harbors a precious pearl if you have the patience and forbearance to ascertain it.

When given the opportunity to take a situation and turn it into a learning experience and better yet, a positive outcome, can I stand up to the challenge? Here's where I'm lacking: this is all much easier verbalized than exercised.

When you've walked the beach to the tip, and both tides meet and collide and crash with such formidable force, how many pearls will you have? How many beatiful shells, perfectly rounded stones, and meticulous sand dollars will you have collected?
Or will you have an onerous abundance of jagged rocks, broken shells, and fetid seaweed burdening your weary life-worn body?

Untitled #3

Memories fly by jerky with awkward pauses like thissssssssssssss----
Where do i fit among the the things I've made and the things i remember
Are they one in the same do not both bear my name
My shame multiplied by every dirty deed I've done every good song i sung
Is gone like thissssssssssssssss----
What is this weird scrapbook i keep changing
Aligning pictures in different spots just to fit the plot like thisssssss----
I am my Creator my Destroyer of me
Save, crop, discard, burn, move, lose, keep, CHANGE
CHANGE is the only constant is this shifting history of mine
So i am constantly changing because i am constantly changing
(My past)My past rearranged feels like living room furniture rearranged
All the same pieces present but im pointing my remote at the couch waiting for the signal to kick in like thissssssssss----
You see i see you in the present and feel nothing but the past
Embrace lost chances and pick up lost forks in the road
But all these forks do is force food down my throat and i choke like thissssssss----
Keep your fork give me a knife hard and straight and i will forge my own path
And with it i will cut out any resemblance to you
No longer will i miss what i never had no longer will i long for greener grass
I will eat what i have i will be thankful for what i got
Because its all i got
And though reality's mean dreams do not feed
No dreams keep us from whats in front of us comforting us with maybes and possibly's
Starving us elusively with promises of feasts if we hold out
Like a contestant in a game show we risk it all on a chance like thissssss----
We'll not me im taking the money and walking
No longer will i spit in the face of good fortune
After all isn't this always what i wanted and i got it
I got it or it got me but either way i get it so forget it like thisssssss----

Fuzzy Memories

Its the feeling I can't vocalize
The dream I can't remember
But it remains with me like a faded picture
With so much to say the words are on the tip of my tongue
My eyes wide open curiosity abounds all around me
My mind is small but not closed off knowledge hangs on every tree
At this time I do not yet know what I can't achieve
I cannot see past Saturday mornings possibilities
I eat my fruit loops and don't have a care in the world
The world is so big yet so contained in my little corner
I invent a new game and change the rules halfway through so I can win
I can't wait to be grown up like in my 20's what are Mom and Dad arguing about
Cant you pay everything off with a credit card
Being a kid is so hard no one understands me
I hate cooked carrots why do I have to eat them
Where do babies come from and what is Daylight Savings Time
Why are we Republican? Why are Democrats going to hell?
Who is Tommy Hilfiger and why don't I have his clothes
I love frozen pops on a hot summer day and Mom, I'm playing
so lunch will have to wait.....

This is sort of a rough draft and i would love to either have you write about your own childhood or comment on mine. The thing that inspired me is the fact that we as human beings are never content. We always want what we can't have. I remember being a little boy and i just wanted to grow up being a kid sucked and was so boring. Now that I'm "grown up" i would do anything to be a little kid again. To be innocent, naive and free from all the baggage, pre-conceived notions, and scars that Ive accumulated over my 25 years.

unconditional friendship

I have such fond memories with you.
I look forward to the many more we will make together.
Your smell is intoxicating, a scent that no other owns.
Its an earthy, fresh, and wonderful aroma that fills my head when we're together.
When I breathe you in I am consumed with a warm, euphoric, light-headed sense of contentment.
I look forward to your company
I miss you when you're not around
When you ARE around, I have not a care in the world.
I'm floating in my subconcious marveling at the beauty and wonder enveloping me.
The simple splendor of the shadows dancing on the floor and the tingling warmth of the afternoon sunlight sprinkled across my face.
When you're around my senses are hyperactive. The sweet notes I hear in each beautifully crafted song are almost too sweet for my ears. The extreme plush, velvety soft, carress of my favorite blanket feels like a puff of cloud from the heavens floated down over me.

My dearest love, MaryJane, you will always hold a special place in my heart, my pipe, my lungs, my THC hungry neurons.

Repeat

I wish you stayed as fresh as the first time i heard my new favorite song. Before all the buzz and bloggers and the hip indie kids made you the next best thing. Back when no one knew who or what you were about and i found you on a hunch. Do you remember when every conversation was new and every little detail about your past seemed like the coolest thing. You were unpredictable and exciting. Now i finish your sentences and order your food. I grab my shovel and help us dig this rut we've become accustomed to. Every now and then a glimmer of hope will appear but I'm way to comfortable to chase it. So don't you dare change that dial remember this is your favorite part and you know every word.

Anonymity

Everytime I read the thoughts posted here I want to congratulate someone on a job well done and can't because I don't know who has written what. I like it that way. I like remaining anonymous and at the same time not knowing who you all are. Because on some level we're all connected by our writing here and it gives you a sense of escapism and overall well-being to know you're not alone. I'm on here everyday because I need a little bit of the world to be mine in anonymity.

3's company...

Familiarity crawls under the sheets between us. I can feel it, its you're right arm under the pillow my head is resting on and its your left hand on my hip. Its the way I fit perfectly into your arms the way cake batter layers a mold. Familiarity has a warm embrace.
When did familiarity become a bad thing? When did I want my half of the bed all to myself? When did it become "my half" and "your half" instead of "our bed"?
I can't breath the way your arm falls across my chest sometimes, or while you're sleeping your arm slides up to my neck. I can't sleep when you're sprawled out across the entire bed.
I can't sleep when your leg is slung over me and I can't move. Familiarity keeps me up at night. Familiarity is the third wheel coming between you and me.

I want the novelty of sharing a bed with you back.

Boost to my Ego

It's official. Have you ever had people who cut you out of their lives for one reason or another? I've had a handful. And as of last night the last one contacted me again. It's a wonderful feeling to know you aren't forgotten- either purposefully or not. The first three stopped talking to me for years and mostly it was because they were in controlling relationships. They all apologized for killing a friendship. And this fourth one stopped talking to me four years ago (long history there- always thought he was better than me) and just texted to say he was thinking about me to make sure I was alright. It's a good thing to know you aren't forgotten. And that people regret cutting off all ties and burning bridges. I never burn bridges- you never know who you'll need. And its a boost to my ego to know that people regret talking to me. I'm not saying I'm going to let these people back in my life fully like they were before. But its so so good to know that you're remembered and that these people regret the lost years of a friendship. Everyone should remember that.

Genuine Life

I have been thinking a lot lately. This is never a bad thing although it does complicate matters alot. I can't not be ok with the way things are. I will never just say "oh well thats just the way it is." I believe I can change things. I don't want to live a life of quiet desperation i want the real thing i want to live life the way it was intended- by the seat of my pants. I never want to be so entrenched in a pattern or a way of thinking that I'm not open to new ideas or people. I want to always grow and I want my ideas to be challenged. I want to forget the past and live simply for the beautiful moment i have right now. Above all I want to help people and be true to myself. Bring on the pain and the joy. I want the real thing no filters not watered down I want it in all its messy beautiful glory.

I have had this idea for a while. I want to write a story where we all write different chapters. It will be ongoing and on this site. Any ideas or suggestions?

The person you love to love.....

I have become the Idea I've always idolized. (This idea alone is crazy to me. That I could be for someone what I've always looked for. That I could let someone down from a position that I could never, ever in a million years occupy. I'm not here to rescue you I can't even save myself... but- maybe together we can create something beautiful. Our own perfect idea of utopia where we are simply as we are...perfectly imperfect)

I've looked at women as ideas, something to totally complete me. Something totally perfect, created inside my head to be my intellectual complement. They are always movie characters that I can feel and see and talk to. My very own personal Kate Winslet, Scarlett Johansson, Helena Bonham Carter, Natalie Portman. Its always the fucked up girl in the corner of the party that isn't going with the flow. With the mysterious eyes and a story to tell. Indie cred to boot and she knows all my favorite movies and all the bands I don't know I like yet. Yet she is human so human. My Natalie Portman has dirty fingernails and calloused feet. My Kate Winslet has a drug problem. My Helena Bonham Carter is just as scared of the world as I am. Me and my Scarlett share an affinity for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time and are laughingly awkward. They are not ideas they are people and that's a damn shame. They let me down and pick up the pieces from the pedestals we put each other on. I am just as fucked up in all the ways I silently pray they aren't. But with each conversation, situation, missed phone call, and disappointment the make up fades and what is left is just as beautiful as everything I've ever thought it could be. To all of you and you know who you are I love you so very much and am so thankful to have you in my life exactly as you are. Thank you for inspiring me and letting me know it will always be OK.

3 28 11 27

A tad bit smaller than Grand Central Station and encompasses a more welcoming feeling, there I was. I walked up the stairs off the train. Philadelphia. My first time visiting and had an overwhelming mixture of emtions. Traveling alone has never scared me. My persona seems to attract and I enjoy that. He got up to throw away his trash. If you look to the right as we go over this bridge, you can see the NYC skyline. I smiled, nodded, and thanked him. I already knew the information he was giving me but I was so amused by the fact that I was going to have a tour guide for the next couple of hours that I just let him think he'd taught me something new. My thoughts... he lives for that. He was a frequent traveler, I could tell. The employees on the train knew him. "Where are you going young lady?" he asked. I smiled, sat proud, "Philadelphia" I said. He didn't ask me what I was going for or why I was alone. I think he had already created his own version of my story... and in fear of ruining that, he avoided the truth. Maybe his story was right on, maybe it was far off. He was interesting. Probably near about 65 years old. His hat had a feather in it, it was, for some reason, comforting... his feather in his hat. Why? I'm not too sure... maybe he reminded me of someone.. I don't know. We had a great conversation about the history of Pennslyvania until he left me in Newark Penn Station. So from there I rode alone, in silence, to think about the events that would take place over the next couple of days.

Never had I thought it would be so perfect.

..........i dont even have a clever title for this garbage.......

I feel like I've been stuck in this slump for too long.
My inspiration is gone.
Writer's block has piled it's rocks high this time.
I sit, and I try to write. I know that I have it in me.

It's so frustrating to know that the potential and the passion is there
And not coming out!

I even went back and read through my writing portfolios of old stuff I wrote.
I went back hoping that it would spark something inside me.
Hoping that it would somehow bring back whatever it was I lost.

I was so creative. I had visions and I wrote them down.

What is blocking my imagination? Not even imagination, my ability to express
Thoughts and feelings effectively.

So I sit here today. I opened this "new post" screen hoping that if I looked at it long enough I would have some sort of inspiration or at least something interesting to say. So here I am, I feel the need to write but I don't feel the ability right now. I want it back.
I need it back.

My brain is still working, it's just not communicating with my ingenuity!!

better late than never

I finally felt it.
11 months it took.
I looked at you, and I felt this incredible wave of warmth inside me.
I worried for almost an entire year that it would never come,
I felt like I'd just settle for what it was...
A friendship for me and a crazy-in-love thing for you.
I was jealous, I wanted to feel it.
I loved you, I do love you,
And now I know that I'm IN love with you.
I never thought that it could take me so long,
I figured it was a lost cause, but I'd settle
because it's better to be loved than to be alone.
And to think I almost threw it away.

When I looked at you,
At that moment I could have cried.
I waited and was convinced that moment wouldn't come for me.
And then, when least expected, it hit me.
I knew that I need you in my life.

They always say, patience is a virtue
I think I've finally acquired that virtue,
And with it a love to last a lifetime.

I looked at you through the corner of my eye.
Cataloging your faults, and trying to see if you had figured out mine.
Letting the miles pass us by.
I don't like the way your mouth sits,
and I hope you don't mind all the blemishes I posses.
When you touched me for the first time
I didn't feel that electric emotional shift I'd been hoping for.
That's too much pressure I've concluded to put in one moment,
let alone another man.
Because I did find comfort in our conversation,
the way the words just escaped me.
I love the idea of being the person I want,
and not the one I was in front of you.
Maybe your mouth has to be positioned a little less then perfect,
in order to make your words more sincere.
Maybe love doesn't have to begin with all the dynamics of a great love story to be real.
I don't want a wildfire romance that will burn out soon.
I'd rather have a relationship that can weather any storm with passion so true.
We ended the drive, recapped the night,
and laughed at the awkward silence before saying goodnight.
As I drove off I wondered could this be the beginning of something worthwhile...

3 Things

3 things i hate about you:
1. you're a hypocrit in regards to some things. in your eyes i will always be compared to her.
2. you've hurt me more times than i can count
3. you can never just be my friend you always question our relationship. i wish you would just let it be.


3 things i like about you:
1. you're passionate and we can talk for hours about everything and nothing
2. your curiosity for history and the way you speak
3. the fact that you question things that most people accept and you're willing to admit your faults




3 things aren't enough.

leave of absense

I have to admit, not only have I not been posting here, but until today I haven't even read any posts. Reason being, it has become a depressing place to be.
I know it's easier said than done, but living can't be done in the past and you can't live for the future either. Life is a day to day thing. You wake up and you face what's in front of you. After waking up for years and dwelling on my past, it finally became too much of a sickening process. I now face each day with a cleared palate and fresh outlook for the day at hand. I can't change my past relationships, I can't change what my mom let me wear as a kid, no matter how embarrassing it was, and I can't fully control what's going to happen tomorrow. What I CAN do is take today and make it a good day. I can wake up being grateful that I've been granted another day, and I can wake up knowing that today is a small part of a whole. If small parts of a whole are good and positive, then the whole is positive.
Do I have bad days? Of course I do. But I remind myself, one bad part of a big whole, doesn't make the whole bad and tomorrow is another day.
I don't know, maybe I'm taking this all too literally and personally, but visiting here is depressing. It's not a positive uplifting experience. I joined here with the intentions of working on my writing, and it's become a place to vent frustrations, which is fine, if that's what is needed.
So, after today, I'm going back to being here on my original terms and intentions. My posts are going to be my writings and not my woes. No ones woes or issues are original, we all face challenges every day. They're original to no one.
I'm not here to condemn your use of willowchronicles. If venting your frustrations here is helpful to you, by all means, continue to do so. And if I have a word of comfort or advice that might be useful to you, I will share it.

Ladies Room

Set up the scene.
It's 8:15 date March 5th 2009.
Celebrating 3 years of our Life.
If you look down you'll see a stone sitting perfectly
on my left ring finger making it official.
Check comes, I excuse myself to freshen up.
Once we hit the road won't be much time
til we're locked up in the room.
Staring at my reflection, through my diamonds light,
thanking my lucky stars for the man by my side.
Startled because when I open the door I step into a world of silent cries,
21 year old female tears running down this young girls face,
and what appears to be a mark across her cheek.
Walk into the stall grab a couple squares hand them to her.
Being a female you grow up knowing
the Ladies room is refuge to whatever goes wrong outside that door.

"Are you alright?"

Embarrassed by her appearance,
she takes the squares, and cleans up her smeared make up.
No words exchanged, so I turn my back to walk away.

"You know it wasn't always this way."

As she stares at her reflection in the bathroom mirror,
I turn around.

"He use to be real sweet. Bought me things, showed me places that I had never seen. Told me I was everything he could ever need."

The room went silent.
As she composed her emotions,
she turned and looked me straight in the eyes.

"I understand the life he leads to provide for me. Living in the city you know it's hard to make ends meet. So I promised I'd hold him down while he stepped out, til I heard word on the street he was creepin' behind the scenes. Confronted him tonight, that's where this mark across my face comes into play."

I put my hand on her shoulder,

"Honey you shouldn't put up with that, no man should ever lay a hand on a woman, just to prove his strength. Come on now you have to be stronger, smarter then that?"

"I don't need your pity."

She snapped, moved her shoulder, and stepped back,
raised in the hood you have to project a certain persona
if you expect to survive.

"You know I seen you and your man from across the room. Smiling, laughing, you can tell he's in love with you, that he lives the right kind of life. You two probably live in the suburbs, so what would you possibly know about strife? If I leave him I go back to the projects, back to working for minimum pay everyday. I'll never break away from the ghetto that way. I'm 21 years old no High School Diploma, he took me off the streets. Laced me in designer things, nothing but Louie, Gucci, and Prada touch my back. Every morning I get to choose between the Benz or the Rova."

"So you'd put a price on your worth?"

As I walked towards the door to make an exit,
I stopped long enough to look at her in disappointment.

"I may not live in the ghetto, but where I live definitely isn't the suburbs. And ya my man does live the right kind of life. He was in the military 4 years served his country proudly, and provides for me fully. Growing up was no joke, and home was the last place I wanted to be. But this has nothing to do with the type of life he lives, or the type of past I have. Cause if he ever laid one hand on me, or disrespected my worth, my bags would be packed and Id be out the door. No words could forgive any mark he'd leave on me. You see I respect myself much more than to ever put myself through that. So when you sit here and give me your story, sorry if I show no pity cause it looks like you know the type of life you're living by continuing this relationship. So if you don't value your life enough to walk away, then basically your life's a waste, and you deserve anything that comes your way. Before I met my man I was working 2 jobs, going to school full time. Living just fine without him by my side. He enhances my life, and his love enhances me, but if need be I'd have no problem leaving."

I opened the door, and walk out of the Ladies room,
and see my husband standing tall,

"Babe what took so long?"

"I don't want to talk about it. Can we just go?"

He put his arms around me, and begin to leave.
I see the stranger walk up to her man,
from the corner of my eye.

"What the fuck were you doing in there? Watch when we get home,"

As he grabbed her arm, and tossed her like a rag doll.
She looked at me, and all I could do
was shake my head.
She put her head down,
and we all walked away...

Next day my husband and me wake up real late,
night of love making to blame.
Sitting at the table he's reading the paper,

"Babe remember the restaurant we were at last night?"

I look up as he says,

"An unidentified 21 year old female was shot in the parking lot. Apparently the boyfriend and her were fighting. Witnesses say she was trying to walk away, when ol' boy put three in her chest, fled the scene, and left her to bleed, ambulance came but said they were too late, the girl was pronounced dead on the scene. Tragic don't you think?"

its been awhile

Its been a while since I've posted anything. I haven't really been feeling inspired lately. I'm not sure why but I haven't written a song, poem, or blog in a long time. Speaking of blogs tell me I'm not the only one that checks more to see if they got comments then if there is a new post. I love comments and that my writing resonated with someone. Keep the posts coming Love you guys.

Every day I am told I am beautiful.  Every single day of my life.   People compliment me on something random about myself on a daily basis.  I am constantly surrounded by people who love me,  at work AND at home.  I am very lucky for that. But how could you be surrounded by people who love you,  and still feel lonely?  How could I always get compliments and still never feel pretty?  I am sick of being alone.  I want confortable silence.  I want security.  I want someone I can FART ON.  I want someone who thinks I am prettier without makeup on.  I want someone who accepts all my faults/my past without holding it against me.  I want to remember what it's like to be in love.  To feel SOMETHING.

Every Time

I see your picture I'm taken back to four years ago when I decided to sleep with you that once. And to think I wasted years loving you when you were only a fantasy. I built you up into something incredible so that it couldn't be matched. And sometimes you knew it and told me that you couldn't be what I wanted. Other times you would say "is there anyone that can take you and do this in a day. I'm one of a kind." And so I was conflicted for years. Its funny to think that my ultimate wish for as long as I could remember was your undoing. Because you were, absolutely by far, the most horrible lay I've ever had and it's liberating. Liberating to know that even though all the hurt and the wanting was for nothing- I can move on. I can live my life and know that you were never meant to be my prince in some castle. My high school sweetheart realized and loved and warm and real. And it's made me stronger. Who I am today. You may have taken away my innocence (not sexually)- but through the mind fuck that was loving you. And you may have taken my naivete that love really isn't a fairy tale. But I tell you now that I'm a stronger person for it in the end. You'll always have a little piece of me. The first boy I loved and lost my heart too. But you won't have my hand in the end. Or my heart. Those I reserve for myself. And whom I choose to live with my life with. So Thank You. For being the worst person to fall in love with. Thank you for making me strong and who I am today.

Something about fear

It's something about fear, how it can interfere with the things you hold dear. You feel like everything is whole, and that youre finally in control, then doubt comes along and drills a hole. Now what was once intact, it isn't quite exact, what is fiction? what is fact? Who knows? Is the answer in their possession? I've come to find out, its inside the person with the question. Try not to feed it, you're only giving it help, no one should be a worst enemy to themself. Know that you are love, you were made from love, and feel that with not another thing above. Love for you will always keep you clear, and then it will be fear's turn to disappear

time waster, mind eraser

He mind raped me in ways I never thought possible. Your lies linger in the echos of my thoughts and I can't sleep. I feel sick, overwhelmed, weak. How do I recover from this manipulation? I gave her everything she needed to be strong and walk away, but it seems as though she took his bait again.  Months of nothing but secrets and lies and double lives. How does one person keep track of all the different stories? We laid in bed to go to sleep and he kissed the back of my head and held me close and said "Goodnight my baby".  then he got up in the morning and went to their new house to shower before work. Is this a lifetime movie? It can't be real, it didn't happen to me....

This place I'm in.

I'd rather die than live a lie. Why do we eat/ignore each others bullshit all the time. Is it because we care and think it would be rude. Or maybe it's because we don't care enough. Or better yet if you don't call me on my bullshit I won't call you on yours and we can all go on living our lives. Our beautifully, imperfect, unfulfilled, boring, plain, pedestrian lives. We are not bored by what we do do, but rather by what we don't do. I am full of shit. I say I want to help people yet I can't/won't help myself. I say your boring and yet I'm just as boring. I talk a lot and get pumped up for nothing. I live through words, art, movies and music, yet I myself just exist.... merely breathing. I have become everything I hate simply because I don't have the balls, ambition, or direction to be what I want. Who am I to expect out of you something I myself can't provide.Who the fuck do I think I am!!! I am the judgemental do-nothing prick that I've always hated. I act like I'm above you because I say I see the world differently. But, for what I have the eyes to see but not the feet to move. I'm sorry for every time I looked down on you and felt sorry for the way you lived your life. When in reality I just feel sorry for myself and I take it out on you because your available. I'm sorry and until I am who I can be and live how I should, I will never look down on you from my Ivory Tower of shame and regret.

93 days, 3 years time

It's easy to love when it's deserved.
But can you stand up when your backs against the rope?
With the whole crowd cheering, but they want you to choke?
Can you love without reason?
When it's not deserved but there's still hope?

Most people lack the courage to love, or are just plain scared.
Human nature is designed to be survival of the fittest,
to forge ahead with your best foot forward.
But love is the complete opposite. Love tells you to be vulnerable.
To let someone see you uninhibited, in all your weaknesses.
So I challenge everyone to love with all their heart.
To immerse themselves in someone else,
but to never lose sight of the things that make you whole.
Even if the love goes south to never regret one single moment spent.
Some people go their whole lives without experiencing love,
and they're no better off then those who have loved and lost.
Some people that experience it turn bitter and cold.
But I wouldn't trade the pain, if it meant I'd have to erase the memories.
Some people never realize that the time spent in love was enough.
My heart may be tattered and torn, but it holds true beauty.
For I have loved with all my heart, and I regret nothing.

I know I'm not the only one in the willowchronicles nurturing a broken heart, but there is a silver lining in every storm. There is always hope. Life has a funny way of working out what you swore couldn't. What's truly meant to be will always find it's way, as cliched at it may sound. Things need to happen in their own time, because if they don't they're made to be, and not meant to be...

Tired

I'm so absolutely exhausted of wasting my time on you. I have nothing left to give I'm numb, indifferent, apathetic and cold. If love is a decision then I choose not to love you anymore. I physically cannot do this. You are a waste of every tear, hour, poem, dream, jerk off, and blog I've ever done in your memory.I am slowly killing myself. I move through life like a zombie waiting on the impossible to happen. You have been replaced by others that don't satisfy. I watch porn hoping to get one tenth of the fire i used to feel. With every artificial orgasm i generate i curse your name and tell you how much i hate you. This is what my love has become. A maddening circus to try to recreate a feeling, a moment, a scene long long lost. I live through new memories we will never create. I give everything for 5 minutes of nothing, pointless conversation. I sacrifice meaningful connections to retain a sense of connection to you. For what? For what? I don't have the slightest clue. I am a stranger to myself. My heart feels like a rouge organ plotting to destroy the rest of my body. I cannot justify this love anymore than I can deny it. It is. It is. I don't understand it and that unfortunately is part of the appeal. I wish I could love someone else. I already know who you are too. But I can't, I'm infected with this heart disease. I need to get better. I need to live again. But, till then i will exist through broken promises and unfulfilled expectations.

robbed

When you took from me the one sacred thing I should have been able to give away, you took so much more.
What should have been an exciting and wonderful moment in my life to look forward to, you made a painful, revolting memory that I wish I could erase.
It sounds so cliche to say that you stole my innocence... but that's exactly what happened. My girlish happy spirit was taken, and it left me a cold and indifferent, shattered soul that I was responsible for piecing back together.
When you should have been protecting me from the same evils, you were instead inflicting the worst imaginable, scarring, life-altering pain.
All I have to say is thank you for making me the strong person I am today. I can turn the other cheek... but YOU have to sleep with this guilt on your shoulders until the day you die. And I hope that it's at least half as painful as what I've endured, because you deserve it.
Some day, when you may have a little girl of your own, I pray that it pierces your heart to see what you ruined in another human being, and I pray she never fall victim to such injustice.

girl i just wanted to show
the way you make my soul flow
til it feels like it drips
from my fingers and toes

hands and lips become pairs
with our eyes fixed in stares
and then they close
laying dark to our cares

and when we meet at the chest
we'll feel the beat in our breast
and how it grows louder
the closer we get

we'll give all to each other
and never no less
together we'll flow
in this state of carelessness

Untitled

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CKHilrXR3VU
You've moved on or so You say
but My heart won't let You get away
or forget the pain
But I choose to remember the way
You smiled on that warm summer day
and all the love We made
back when You were my maid marion and I was
Your prince[insert name]
but since those days how many memories
have We gave away
chasing flames that didn't exist
We missed
the fire that exists in Our kiss
hoping to find in another what We simply missed
in each other
We became stuck like some beached lovers
seeking heat underneath strange covers
We were left cold dreaming of each other
this thought alone connecting Us past the bullshit of reality
almost as if LOVE actually is better than LOVE
factually
because Ours wasn't built in a factory
long ago we lost the warranty, no guarantee
this love is patched up, homemade and
flawed
it was thrown away, cold, rediscovered and
thawed
and now its the cause to make My heart
pause
even if its only a moment I cherish it because
that moment's golden
and I can't promise what tomorrow brings
just that I'll LOVE You till tomorrows cease.

Thank You

Thank you to all of you who are involved in Willow Chronicles. Whether you post consistantly, sporadicly, or just stop by to read, you are greatly appreciated. Willow Chronicles has, without a doubt, met and exceeded what we had ever expected it to become. My longtime soulmate friend and I are absolutely estatic and have all of you to thank for it. Let's keep it growing by continuing to share our outlet with others.

Neither Here Nor There

I returned to the place where my mail is sent last night. Which would lead one to believe that I am home. Over the past week I've searched for my home though. Which explains me venturing through three states to a place I know my heart, along with my happiness has always been. Desperatly seeking to find some place of comfort, somewhere my soul could be at ease again.

I was married to a state of mind, based on what I thought my life should be. It was a 3 year comfort net that kept me. Which was neither here nor there. Faithfully I lived my life for the happiness one man brought. I can't begin to tell you the mistake that was. Not the relationship, but the loss of oneself to a relation-shit. I put aside my education, resigned from a promising job I would've been able to turn into a career, left my family, and my friends. To follow this mans pursuit of happiness, which took me far from where my life had been. I did all this so that I could build a life with someone I truly loved, and believed to be the most amazing soul I had ever encountered. Unfortunatly he was also someone who could never let go of his first love. I followed my heart though, so I have no regrets. Even if my biggest fear of being her stand in for those 3 years was realized the day she took over the home I built. Being in love is quite possibly the most fulfilling feeling in life. I am not so cynical to believe that I could never love again, but right now I feel so bruised, and broken. I feel I have nothing to offer the next man, I offered it all at one point to someone, and was rejected time and time again. How's that for a self-esteem boost? Having to realize that your best just wasn't good enough.

I drove myself straight to a place, where every street was paved with forgotten promises, every restaurant and store filled with loving memories of a not so forgotten past for me. I was able to see the snow covered trees, and sidewalks that warmed my heart every visit. As awkward as it wasn't, I realized as much as I would love to call it home again, it would never be. I spent a few days with friends, who reminded me that I am loved, and always welcomed back. Was introduced to new friends, one of which intrigued me. I even ran into my ex, and got to see his soul shine through, while he did something I've always believed he could excel in, and touch others with. But it was the glares from a certain individual that night, that forced me to look at what I was doing, and realize how selfish my return would be. I was going to make a run for it the next day and a text message stopped me. "I'm really glad you were there," was all he wrote. So I stayed for the time I had intended to.

Yesterday I endured the grueling 16 hour drive back to the location I get my mail, the place where I am surrounded on the daily by people that truly love me. Yet felt more alone then ever. Happiness for me comes at a price of hurting others, angering some, and forcing a certain individual to own up to his mistakes. All of which I believe is unfair, maybe even selfish. So I stay where I'm content, and can derive happiness from seeing the people that I love happy. Just a pointless venting session I had to get out, before my little body exploded.

apathy

Why do I have such an apathetic attitude towards my future. I have plans and desires, yet my motivation to reach and complete my goals is lacking, to say the least.
I have a lofty goal set as far as my degree is concerned... and I think my problem comes in with my current situation. Having the necessity for the full time job which I currently have (due to debt I've foolishly accrued), I am forced to go to night classes which is proving to be a difficult and lengthy process. All at the same time I'm in a position where my hearts true desire to be a wife and mother is thwarting my career ambitions. I still want to graduate and attain my numerous degrees required for my desired vocation, however, my brain is saying... "why bother? If I'm going to be at home raising children, what's the point of spending my time, money, energy, and what is left of my early twenties on this education which may never be put to practical use?"

I haven't given up on my ambitions, by any means. However circumstances have set me back even further because of stupid college course scheduling. This just adds to the frustrations!!
And as time wears on the reality of marriage and children becomes more present and pressing.

I just needed to complain...

i'd love to let you fill up the empty parts of me. hold me tight and close, get deep inside of me until it feels like we're both part of the same space and time. no fear or emptiness, just us, together. i'd love to be the one to fill up the empty parts of you, show you that there are some places that are not bottomless, and that together we can grow things that cannot be put into words out of the empty parts of us

Unreconstructed

I somehow feel comforted by empty spaces in this unfamiliar situation. No clutter, no memories. It's new and open. The only things that surround me are things I want around me. Scarcely furnitured, simple yet elegant and sophisticated... you're exactly what I needed. Overwhelmed and honey mooned. With no blinds I can see clearly to the outside. This is life. The light pole outside cries icicles but I know it will feel better by spring. Thank you for continuing to shine anyways. Though I still desire, for the the first time I feel it is all unnecessary. Who knew it would only take hardwood floors? Inside you, I am inspired. Sleeping beside you, I am inspired.

A.I.

I should've guessed this would've happened. You'd come back at just the wrong time but with all the right words. It seems I keep making left hand turns and end up right back where I started. Chameleon tongue, you spoke with hidden intentions seeking security in my insecurity. Telling me what you think I want to hear, but its really just a test. You love the sound my chains make when they rattle. You love the smell of my love so wet and eager. I silently pray that your kiss will be bitter so no more will my mind remember the soft taste of your lips on a warm spring day. I hope your hair feels brittle in my fingers and that your breasts make a lousy pillow. I need us to have nothing to talk about. I hope that everything we don't have in common drives us apart. But it won't, it can't, I won't let it happen. I continue to cling to you as desperately as a child holds onto his blanket. It makes no sense. You can no longer protect me, nor warm me, your worn and tattered. Is that what this love has become- a comfortable piece of nostalgia that has long lost its purpose. Are you simply my favorite pair of slippers with holes in the sole and my toes exposed cold but I stay foolishly faithful, unwilling to buy a new pair. Afraid if i do, if i put you aside for something better, that our memories become nought. Maybe I'm just a pack rat and your just something i don't know what to do with; like some trinket from high school or an old hat i haven't worn in 5 years. My closet will be empty without you gathering dust but i must i must.....

Hello I'm a monster too

What we do in our time here makes a difference. I was here and so were you and we mattered. You only get to do this once. Make it yours.

Denial

My life is a stage only no one's watching. Which is horrible because one of my faults is thriving on attention. Sometimes I pretend its a sitcom and I have my own audience that I cater to. And I think: well, maybe someone somewhere is going through exactly what I'm going through at this moment and that makes it ok. But in the end- who really cares? I'm not living life I'm only walking in it for someone else. Everyone tries to fit into some cookie cutter type of lifestyle in some small way; meanwhile they're screaming inside because they're not happy. And so I urge you all to take a first step and not fall into the motions- go outside the box. Do something different than your daily routine. I used to love falling asleep in squares of sunlight coming in through the window. Back when I had 5 minutes to myself. I haven't done that in years. Maybe its time.

C.

Hello my name is contradiction and i don't belong anywhere. I hate your materialistic ideals but i enjoy carrying a coach bag. I don't like the rain but I love the sound it makes. I'm older than my age but I still suck my thumb. Im health conscious but i smoke cigarettes. I want a slow paced life but I'm more productive when rushed. I know we communicate on different frequencies but i want you. I hate dressing up but high heels make me feel empowered.  i hate blogging but i like how it makes me feel.

?

If pretty is fake is ugly real? Whenever i see someone that is physically appealing, in an A&F sitcom type way, i immediately think oh that person must be shallow. So does that make ugly people genuine and real. Its like the fat girl needs to have a good personality. Well what if she doesn't and what if the model does and is down to earth. Personally i think you should only be allowed to have one or the other. And i would have to pick personality. Beauty fades and after a while you start poking holes through it and finidng flaws. Inner beauty just grows and grows thats were love is found in the heart not inside a pair of designer jeans.

Dear orphan

Welcome to a family of like minded, slightly neurotic and definitely jaded individuals. Life strikes me equally as hard with its beauty but also with its ugliness. There are so many things to be happy about and that can take your breath away but at the same time there are many things that hurt beyond comprehension. I too know the comfort of solitude. That comfort is derived in the discomfort of others. Sometimes that things that hurt the most are not things that people do but what they don't do. The inner disappointment of seeing someone you believe in fail, or seeing someone settle or dreams never realized. It will get better, get out there live life the best you know how and continue to write and take solace in the fact that you are not alone.

Inaugural Debt

I don't want to take away from the historical value of today, that is not the point of this blog. I merely want to express my disgust for the United States, and especially the government.
I'm sorry, I do not see the logic in spending over 170 million dollars on this inauguration when we are in the middle of a recession. Where is the practicality in this?
Here is another issue I have with this; in the past when an inauguration has cost this much, it has been protested. Now, had this been a republican inauguration, you can bet your life, this obscene 170 million dollar expenditure would not go without remonstration.
Double Standard? I'd say so.

Having said that, this could be the US's greatest set up for failure... EVER... you can call me a cynic for hoping.

Three plus an orphan...

I think I am following a perfect blog. For a week now I've been lurking the willowchronicles writings, (That makes me sound like a creep I know.) trying to muster the courage to enter your blogging family, with something refreshing, maybe even inspiring, if nothing else at least 100% original. All the entries I've read have been really motivational to the cause. Unfortunatly my usual optimistic take on life is quite jaded, and I seem to be lacking original thoughts. Which is usually never the case. Everywhere I look someone is losing their job, including myself. This economy sucks right now! Everytime my phone rings I listen to yet another story of love turned cold. Leading me to wonder if love even exists anymore, and if it does where the flip it's hiding at. It really annoys me that I'm struggling to get by while the Hollywood crowd sits comfortably in their lavish mansions, with more money in their bank accounts then I'll probably make in my lifetime. Eff them! Lately I've found so much comfort in my own solitude, that it scares me, I don't think you should be that content alone. People are disappointing me so much though. I usually have no problem finding the good in every shit-uation, these last few months though have really taken a toll on my heart. I look forward to being able to provide the rest of you with insightful entries in the future, unfortunatly right now this is all I can offer...

Thank you

I just want to thank all 3 people involved with willowchronicles. The quotes and the writings are a highlight of my day. Thank you for posting your heart and insight to share with other like minded people. Recruit more people in project mayhem you space monkeys.

not quite the Macy's Day...

The melancholy parade of early adulthood is flooding my streets
with floats of responsibilities, banners of failure, twirling batons of lost dreams, and a drum corp clad in black beating my tune of dismay.
The procession drags on and finds a way to wind the roads of today and tomorrow to craft a never-ending loop of melodramatic exaggerations in my weary mind.

tomorrow isn't mine

I have an eerie calm about my own death. In some way, I almost look forward to it.
I know this may come across as morbid, but to me, death is a peaceful thought. True rest.
Don't get me wrong here, I want to live my life and grow older and wiser, have a family, I'd even like to know how it feels to become a grandparent; however, I don't feel as if I die tomorrow I'm missing out on anything. I used to have a very strong feeling that I did not want to die and be taken from my life here, I looked at death as a robbery if I happened too soon, but now, I can see that death is a force to be interpreted individually.

I'm not really sure where I'm going with this, however, I find life much more enjoyable and fulfilling without an anxiety over death.
If you think about it, your next breath is as uncertain as uncertainty comes. Death is unpredictable. I could fall asleep tonight and not wake up tomorrow, and the thought of that is somewhat comforting. Call me a morbid freak.

calendar drudge

Why is it that people put so much stock into the idea of a 'year'?
What does it mean? Its a block of time, a period which quickly comes and goes.
If everyone were to abandon the ever-lasting idea that a year has to be either overalll good or overall bad, mankind might be a little more positive.
I refuse do to the '08 reflection. Where am I right now? That's what fucking matters. That's the issue at hand. I can't change what happened, and I can't keep '09 from coming and throwing more unexpected or unwelcome situations my way. So why be so tenacious? I'm going to live '09 the same way I lived '08 and all the years previous-with an open heart and mind. Life is an experience full of learning, loving, losing, gaining, wanting, needing, but it doesn't need to be full of regrets.
Take it and run with it.
Life is not to be taken too seriously. When it all comes to the inevitable end, do you want to look back on a life of unfulfilled resolutions or would you rather reflect on a life lived the way it was intended?

First post of 2009

Yeah thats basically all i want. My head is swimming too much running through it to process it all. I wish i could slow everything down and stay where i am. This next year is going to bring so many changes for me. I know change isn't bad but it can be scary. My thoughts are too jumbled to try to write. But, i have the first post of teh year. Hopefully this year brings more people into the willowchronicles family.