they make me smile

they make me smile

cholula

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In an attempt to calm myself

[Jul. 22nd, 2008|11:03 am]

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Being taken for granted for so long is really getting to me.

'If you're lying, may you rot from the inside out.'

Though I was honest,the other day I broke out in severe hives and for a moment I contemplated the notion that it was possibly the physical initiation of this "rotting" process.

I have not written anything valid in a while. There are so many fragments of poignant moments that I'd wish to translate into words, but my limited vocabulary and my inability to write keep them where they are the safest...

You will never understand what it is that you retain. According to how I perceive the world, you meant it to me. The last thing I wrote was a love profession on a napkin while forcing myself to eat, despite the terrible culmination of anxiety and an overwhelming feeling that I can best describe as a bout of "lovesickness". I was draped in your sweater, shamelessly unkempt, sinking into various depths of nostalgia. You will never understand the content of this letter, as I will never read it to you. Perhaps I've illustrated these words to you, while you were inebriated or maybe while you took on a different vessel.

What is it that I can't quite grasp? What is it that defines me? I don't remember my name, really. You never liked capitalizing 'I' so every time I do it I feel myself dizzily shuffling towards the edge. I constantly strip everything down to the core. I indulge whenever I can taste the slight hint of vulnerability. I was never a fan of a facade, nor was I ever impressed by any characteristic that diverted my understanding of what is it that makes you 'human'. If I were to say that I am worth too much to be tossed away that would certainly help me believe that I'm on the right path to narcissism! Who am I, in comparison to anyone else? No more, no less. There are characteristics but what do those matter? I feel perfectly erect, for once. Constantly in thought, constantly pulling each leg out further to help calm that feeling of claustrophobia.

Every quality, you hate. What am I doing here? What am I doing with you? My self-destructive nature? I'm sorry, my supposed self-destructive nature. I can still feel your heartbeat, somewhere within the vicinity of ..this.

'The most beautiful girl in this room, this house, this city, this state, this world. All I had to look at were your eyes. They were so distinctly vibrant that no other part right along with them could suffice. You were out of the car, completely somewhere else. I don't know if you thought of me as a dream, as something to escape...but I realized in that moment how much I did love you.'

Drifting away, and well you might say
I'm losing focus.

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