Disappointed

To whom it may concern.

How susceptible teenagers are to heartache! Some guys, and some girls too, just don’t know their own strength. They don’t know how much they effect you — or how easily their words can tear at your hide. At my hide. At what I thought was my heart.  I’ve wanted to make a post here for quite a while, but I couldn’t bear it. As angry, as sad and DISAPPOINTED I was, I fought against letting you see it. I allowed myself to feel something for someone who was real, who was right here at my hand or in my arms, and it was all just a disappointment. A final letdown, proving to me what I always thought before. I am not worth another’s love, that word rolls off my tongue with a sickening thud, or at least not his. It’s all shit, with a motherfuckload of excuses, and I’m tired of thinking about, dreaming about it, wondering whether I should believe what I’m told, or what I fear is the reason for his neglect. My friends act shocked — ‘You spoke so highly of him!’ ‘He sounded like such a nice guy….’ — coupled with sad frowns and pitiful eyes, as they go home at night to their beloved boys. No one is perfect, neither he nor I nor our “unfortunate situation”, but fuck, why does it all have to happen now? Why couldn’t this one thing just work out and prove me wrong. < It’s not a question, just frustrated observation.

I am someone who keeps emails and text messages, and replays sweet whispers over and over in my head until they lose their meaning, wordpress you know this. But I’ve since recorded in detail what I remember, and then I made myself forget it. The record I still own, but I’m trying to forget, and so scared to forget in the same instant. I’m scared that if I ever saw or talked to him again that I would feel that want to get to know you again sensation as I did with David, and Raph.

But this is different, he is different, because he was right fucking here, in Georgia, a mere hour away, and still he made a choice not to see me. Because he didn’t want to, excuses be damned. My mom always says, you can’t squeeze blood out of a turnip. It’s not going to happen, no matter how much you force it or will it to produce that way. So the feelings, emotions, and immature actions of another, I cannot control. Be happy, having dinner with ex’s and making plans with friends, and one day I’ll be happy too. With someone else, somewhere else, far from this hurt and these stupid, wonderful fucking memories.

An Ode to a Peach

 

The pleasure lies no on its layered surface, not on the smooth, wrinkled face, but beneath.

Read between the colors of bright red, corals of pink and light. Escape through its mantle and saturate yourself with the glistening red, ruby feeling. Bursting texture. Hope of summer with every smell.

Feel the weight of it in your palm.

As warm as blushed skin set aflame, and as delicate too, take care not to bruise or treat it badly. Good southern gentleman, take care. Surrending its supple flavour to you with every taste, its aroma through each inhale. Exhale. It is precious.

Take and catch your breath slowly, so as not to startle her, but hold steadfast, your lips enamored to do their bidden work.

Now bite.

rawr.
It’s me again! : ) I’m back to my writing, inspired by a Fanfiction, no less, to start keeping a journal. If I want to write, to draw, compose, whatever (hell, I can doodle, it’s mine), I will. Sometimes I’ll share the things out of there, like this little story/poem/ode, and other times I won’t. It’s very private very…personal.

WordPress, my life is about to get very, very hectic. I can feel it — the preverbial STORM on the horizon, brewing and churning, and within its clutches: lightning! thunder! rekindling? Oh, but there’s a chance.

I know that I still talk in circles, but that is necessary these days more than ever, so it simply can’t be helped.

I will be working until this Sunday, then I have three days off, but if you think that means I’ll have more of a chance to post, say, here, you are very mistaken. My mother has taken it upon herself to keep constant tabs on me next week, the week of my eighteenth birthday. Now I’ve promised her the day, but the week? The way we fight and argue, I’m doubting that’ll turn out very good for either one of us. And there is a strong chance of my ex-love-interest visiting around the mid-week, so things are bound to get interesting with him meeting the family for the first time. My current love-interest, aw hell, my current love,  🙂 was trusted to meet the folks after weeks, whereas I’ve known David for over a year now and he’s only getting the chance to meet mom this week. Goes to show the difference between them I guess. I’m not so sure this introduction will go as smoothly as the last, but I can only cross my fingers and toes and pray that there is no fallout concerning the people I care about.

I have just come in from looking at the crescent red (orangish, I guess) moon, the closest-planet-to-us-right-now Mars, and from watching the meteor shower from Comet P-whathitzface passing too close to the Earth. I used the ancient telescope given to me by a creepy teenage family friend, and studied for about a half hour until the mosquitoes drove me under cover.

Peach had a photoshoot for this poetic addition. So here are some of the outtakes:

Love me, (Lie to Me – poem)

Lie to me, my sweet,
lie and make me believe
so that I might accept these
delusions of grandeur
and no longer envy
those of sane mind and conscience.

Lie to me, my love,
and promise that you’ll stay here
by my side
until the last shade of white
leaves my skin,
and my thoughts lose their sense.

Lie to me, oh dear,
the dark is coming fast.
It arrives now
to cut the tendons,
the ties,
that bind me to this world
and you.

So lie to me, my sweet,
to keep me unaware.
Tell me of great cities,
brilliant men,
and delicate pretties.
Do this deed for me,
so I can rest with peace
and comfort,
sure that my life has been
so fulfilled with wonder.

I wrote this poem some time last year, while I was still in a very negative mindframe. I really did think that I could never have a man care for me truly, and felt that lies would be necessary to sustain such a fake relationship. I’m not so negative anymore — people have come into my life and changed me for the better.

That is not to say that I still don’t have things I need to work on. Like my habit of overthinking everything. It should be so easy just to let everything go and enjoy what makes me happy, and ignore the things that try and depress me. I have to learn that nothing and no one is perfect, no one can read my mind even if they know me really well. So I have to suck it up and just let the things that bother me roll off my back.

One thing I’ve taken to lately has been recounting memories. There are little details one observes in the heat of a moment, and they don’t realize how memorable those details become until later. As a writer, editer, and a dreamer 😉, my imagination is vast, and I’m still young so my memory’s pretty sharp. I remember colors and images, smells, words, whispers, the feeling of touch.. etc. Emotions are triggered — do you cry or bust out laughing, and I mean the har,har,har laughing, from just a memory?

I still think the poem is beautiful — I don’t remember what inspired me to write it, but I assume I was in one of those moods where I just feel like I need to get something out. When I feel like this I usually either write or post here (which is close to the same thing, an expression).

Oh, and as a note, the Staff at poem.org helped me perfect this poem with a few suggestions in word changes and line distribution. The words and the feelings are mine, as is the idea, but they helped me perfect my product.

Today I’ve been in a wonderful mood — I bet it’s that new policy of just letting things go that’s making me feel better. That, and I’ve been getting alot more sleep lately. I now sleep with a box fan three feet from my face, all the lights off and complete silence. Mmm.. speaking of sleep. It may only be 10:30, and I may have slept in once I got home from work, but I did get up at 4:22 this morning, so I think I’ll be heading to bed soon.

I have plans to go see my cousin Chris sometime this week, probably Thursday — and the fact that he lives close to Devin’s house is just a plus.. =) I’m not positive that I’ll be able to find a ride there and back, but I’ll be damned if I won’t try. It’s been at least a year since I saw Chris.

Night, loves! I’m going to try to go make my eyes numb watching Criminal Minds and reading “Dead in the Family” – by Charlaine Harris.

Genesis,

 

Now with this ring, I promise that I’ll be
faithful and true, devoted to you through it all.
And I’ll gladly be your one and everything
right by your side, a shoulder when you cry if you fall.
And I love you more with every day that ends,
it’s like I’m falling in love over and again.

You’re everything that my life’s been missing
and now I can’t believe this is happening to me.
Through the good, and bad, the happy, and the sad
you won’t be away from home, you’ll never be alone
from LA to Rome.

I couldn’t dream a better life,
without you right there by my side.

Sometimes the little girl in me just breaks through and attaches herself to songs like this one, “From LA to Rome”  by Chester See. It’s mainly used for weddings and anniversary parties, because of it’s ubber-cheesiness and comments on rings and devotion. I started the quote from my favorite part in the song “Now with this ring…”; I think I love that part so much because I’m driving toward marriage with my life. Though I still cannot fathom anyone dealing with my shit for the years it takes to engage, and then the decades after through marriage, a girl can still dream.

I may have actually changed my thoughts about becoming a mother. I had a conversation with my step-grandfather, who I just call granddaddy, and I’m not sure if he knew how powerful his words struck me, but when he spoke of me being a good mother, and the beautiful power I’d feel just when that baby is born, it reminded me of his late wife, and I had to blink back tears. I miss Becky, grandmamma, a lot, especially when I spend time with him. She was litereally the center of his world, as he took care of her for most of her life due to her hearing and sight problems, and with her gone it’s like his gravity has been thrown out of whack. He was her satellite, and now, without her holding him here, I worry about him a lot. How do you live healthily through the rest of your days when your reason for being dies?

Believe it or not, I hadn’t meant for this post to seem so sad. My mood is actually the opposite: In the past five weeks, I have smiled, laughed, and thought about more positive things than I ever have in my life. And, ha, because you know me so well wordpress, you know it’s because of a boy. Well, that boy. He just gets me in ways my mother of 18 years doesn’t, and he speaks words that just leave me…baffled. How could someone feel that way about me? I mean me. Maybe I just have self-esteem issues to battle, but I adore all these things about him. Devin — that’s his name if I have not already introduced him to you — is worth going through all the bad “relationships” in the past. He is goofy and makes me laugh, he’s just a beautiful person, inside and out. Definitely out. I’m a sucker for the eyes, and his blue ones? Oy..

This has been a year of firsts for me, some completely heartbreaking, and others, like this relationship I’m on the cusp of, completely wonderful.

To my little wordpressers out there: keep your music cranked up, your hearts open, and your eyes sharp.

I love you,
amaroq.

Someone who needs clarification.

If you enjoy an experience with someone a little too soon, that doesn’t make it wrong, but does it count as a mistake? Even if you don’t regret anything that happened, do you still consider it “moving too fast”?

I think I need to take a step back and assess my own feelings, first off. I have so much baggage that I will carry into any relationship in the future, and that baggage (example: my abandonment issues, my “slightly” protective nature) needs to be categorized and filed in the correct places before I move on. My feelings for my ex weren’t even solidifed, the good or the bad feelings, before these new ones popped up…

You see, if I am left alone with my thoughts, my mind naturally zeroes in on the thing that has been bothering me the most that day. This usually happens when I’m lying in bed wanting to go to sleep. Sucks because then I start tearing up before sleep, and it’s then impossible to go to sleep. My friends were here to distract me and cuddle me last night, so I wasn’t really alone to overanalyze everything.

But now that I layed here in my bed thinking about the really great and sometimes intense things that happened the other night, I get this weird feeling that I have to be careful. I don’t want to be careful: I want to live and truly trust someone with my happiness. But once again I’m struck with that need to be SO cautious with where I place my heart. If I seriously give up my passion to someone, completely — my virtue even? That is a big. deal. To me and to a lot of people in my life.

So tonight I’m going to turn on the TV, distract my ears and hopefully my thoughts, and then tomorrow when I’m of sound mind and clear eyes, I will give myself a reality check. How serious I plan on getting how fast, and just how mature I want/need to act in this situation.

Some might tell me: you sound like such a girl. That is probably because I am one, and despite all the shit I’ve tried to throw at my emotions to bog them down, they will always come crawling back into my conscious and either praise me or tsk-‘tsk’ at me.

I do know one thing. With you I feel more delicate and cared for. For a soft moment there, an intense but insanely sweet night, I felt safe. I even felt a little hope.  & everything in me is terrified — more than anyone can imagine — that I’m being used. I don’t want to feel that, but after a little serious thought my mind dabbled in that conclusion.

Some horrible philosopher somewhere down the line of ages said: Happiness is fleeting. What a horrible concept, and one my subconscious seems to have adopted as the motto to chant at me. But I’ll be damned if I don’t try to hold as tight as I can to that happiness.

🙂 Goodnight wordpress.

.Yvrut yspoT

As I get a moment of privacy, I settle down with my laptop and Diet Coke (no reg. in the fridge) and start on what is probably going to be a very short post.

Through the wonderful outlet that is the internet, and the aging site that is MySpace, I met someone really close to my area who not only has wicked music taste, but who too possesses one of the kindest personalities I’ve known. The term “topsy turvy” refers to a situation  that is completely turned on its head without necessarily being bad.

The past week of my life, folks, has been a strange, wonderful, topsy-turvyfied mix of days, where thought-to-be-loves faded to black, and a phoenix rose from ashes. I can’t exactly remember all the twists and turns that led me to this point, but I am grateful to everyone.

The words “i love you” mean more to me than they do to most girls — most teenagers for that matter — because I don’t see them through the eyes of a teenager. If I say them, I mean them, and I’ve only said them twice now in my life. For this to happen, my trust in that person must be absolute, and my fears about them minor at best. I have had two guys practically prance right out of my life now, and I’m not known for my long list  of successful relationships, so I can’t guarantee you that I’m going to be any good the third time around. Not that I’m …defining anything. Reference my “coward” sentences a few posts back 😉

So, wordpress, I have a …date this weekend.  It’s my first one in longer than I can remember because no one like this has asked me before. You know how they talk about those people or friends that are just made for you? Ha, I guess a girl can dream.

In my head I always sound way too cheesy, but oh wel.

Confused.

Okay.
The school year is over, and it’s now time for us teenagers to start our full-time jobs (if we hadn’t already), get motivated, and for us graduates to prepare for college in the Fall. I feel illy unprepared for the latter — I have sent out applications, but I’m not 100% sure that I’ve met all the requirements on the main Uni I want to be accepted into.

I’m scheduled to work tomorrow, wordpress, but as for the time  I have no clue. So I have to wake up at 4am and call my manager, just in case they need me at 5am. This is going to really suck if they need me at 6 or 7am, because that gives me just enough time to fall back asleep, and wake up all over again. But that’s what I get for not calling the past three days and checking the schedule ahead of time. *shrug* The past can’t be changed.

Oh, and on a completely unrelated topic, I wanted to share a quote with you guys from a book I just finished:

The sorrowful spirit finds relaxation in solitude. It abhors people, as a wounded deer
 deserts the herd and lives in a cave until it is healed or dead.

I know it’s a little strange towards the end. The author is Kahlil Gibran, a Lebanese man from the 1950s, and he’s brilliant when it comes to imagery and loves loves loves metaphors and similes. The ‘deer’ is just an example.  The book is “The Broken Wings”

I adored this quote because it explains a little bit about me, a sorrowful spirit. I am naturally sorrowful, though I can still be happy and plenty of other adjectives at times, but I do abhor people and relax into the solitude of my room, or the woods. I always have.

Just thought it was neat how fitting this quote was for me.

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