msjessica's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- i am loathe to say i keep sitting here waiting. i just keep sitting here, just waiting. just singing out words to sad songs, just waiting for my favourite lines, just sitting here staring at walls, staring at my phone, staring at words. thinking of words. thinking of you. of your face, my face. my face breaks, sometimes, into uncontrollable smiles at the worst possible moments. it is a throwback. it is like how when someone talks about death, i laugh. or when someone says something really funny, i cry. sometimes my body betrays me - it shows not what i feel, not what i would want to show, not what i mean. - and your face breaks. sometimes i look at you like a science experiment. i wish i could explain that i look at everything like that - or rather - it is how i know something really means something, something is important - when i start getting dissociative and just get analytical. i just drop off. - my selfishness. a school. an internal school. it is something i will always build to change - it is something i will hate, that working to change it just fuels it, gives fire to it. paradox. - in some ways you crack me so hard. i just crack, break. - all those songwriters say it best. if i could change, if i could be more, if i could say, if i only i could be. others say it better. - work. hard work. trying. bukowski says don't try - or rather his epitaph says "Don't Try.". like trying is a curse. the fact that our relationship, our future rides on the interpretation of a few select words. how when we compare memories we have different stories makes me wish we had recorded everything and i would spend the next seven months and seven days watching every moment and pinpointing, seeing where i went wrong, learning, changing, i am always working, we are always working and fighting i am sorry i said differently. but perhaps there are two words that now define us, that will shape us. and we see them differently. what to do with that. i would throw my hands up but i don't know if it is surrender, exasperation, desperation - a plea for mercy, forgiveness, compassion, sorrow - or an act of self flagellation, just to throw them down again, hard and in hate upon myself. 11:52 p.m. - 2013-05-25 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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