For Sale
I let people talk down to me because that is how I know love.
I let myself be used because that is how I know love.
I know love in means of degradation and objectivity.
I say that I deserve better and that I will not be the victim of such things,
but that is where I am drawn.
Spit on me and I will think that the clouds have opened up to send their rains to cleanse me.
Trample me with your harsh words and I will think that I did something wrong.
Be sweet and you will confuse me and stir resentment,
but I thought you loved me?
And I will complain that you hurt me, but it is that hurt that sustains me.
I will cry, but those tear stains will be like medals hung around my neck.
The long nights spent alone, badges adorning my chest
and those times where I can push you to make me feel my worst,
those are my trophies that I sit in my room, littering the walls with my victorious defeat.
And all the while something in me questions
and as soon as I see my get away, I make myself trip
back into the world of make believe, bruised egos, and broken hearts.
I do it to myself, a sick masochist wanting nothing more than to feel
and I only know love in backs turned,
in mean words,
in broken promises,
in second chances that turn to thirds.
Demean me and I will fall for you.
Hurt me and I will love you until the day turns old.
Slander my name and I will never leave you.
Reject me and I will come back for more
Make me cry and you will hold my delicate heart in your hands.
I know love in nothing more than depravity and desolation.
Make me wonder my worth and then I will know that I am loved.
That is all I want.
Love me. No, no debase me.
That is the only way I will know.
My friend told me that it takes 21 days to break a habit. It made me wonder then how long it takes to form one. To quit things cold turkey... doesn't really go well. My friend brought it to my attention that people, we, I need to figure out how things affect us and our lives. As we get older we feel the need to carry our burdens alone and keep things to ourselves when in reality our issues only grow with age and the passing days.
If that is true then soon even the weight of the world will seem like nothing.
People walk around every day and others judge them. I judge them. We are disappointed with angry people with scowls on their faces who are rude and seem to have little consideration for others. How hard it must be for the person who is always smiling on the outside, but cry on the inside. The people with the scowls are just being real with the reality that surrounds them. The cheerful person is special and rare. Smile back.
Such a complicated thing man is. Higher reasoning. Critical thinking. Expressed emotions. Repressed memories and thoughts. None of these things ever have to settle on the visage or pass the lips that hold them. One can never really know what another fellow human is thinking even when they speak. Tricky we are. Complicated and deep. Even those lacking intellectually have a river of emotions swirling through them and thoughts that are all their own.
I had a professor tell me once that if you can't speak it, you don't know it. I'm not sure if I can take that for what it is. Feelings can not always be expressed as they are too overwhelming and too personal for words to shape to bring them into the light of perception, especially by another. Some things are also better left unarticulated. Some things should be kept. Some things are also better left unknown. So if I can speak it, maybe it is better left as a feeling, something unknown, something not meant for the tangible world and my physical senses.
I've heard that ignorance is bliss.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Twilight
So lately I have been dreaming. Like won't stop every night there is a new dream dream. Sometimes I am dreaming twice a night. It started this Sunday. I was on the bus back from NYC and all of a sudden I had this dream. It wasn't a nice dream. That's the other funny thing about these dreams, they are not nightmares, but they are not pleasant dreams. Something is always not right in them. And they feel entirely too real. I wake up with a tightness in my chest because there is always something to raise my anxiety levels in these dreams.
So my dream on the bus on Sunday was simple. It was about real life things. I dreamt that I was on the phone talking to 647 and that at first everything was fine, sort of. It was like before if that makes sense. We were sitting there talking and then 647 mentioned that there was so much to tell me to fill me in on and what not and once those words were spoken I had this overwhelming feeling of what did I do and oh my God I'm talking to 647. Why did I do that. It was like being pulled into a black hole. I ended up hanging up the phone like a crazy person and these texts were flowing in filling me in on 647's life and it was like I opened up Pandora's box. The feeling I had was so strong and I woke up thinking what had I done and I couldn't believe that I was talking to her. The feeling lingered for too long, but I finally realized that it was only a dream.
I blame the reminders and the playlist I was listening to on the bus. The bus was weird all together. It was headed for Toronto. There were too many Canadians on it and I decided to play things like Florence + The Machine, Stateless, and Ingrid Michaelson. Not something to fall asleep to especially when you have gone the whole weekend nearly to the border of sleep deprivation.
Now I fell asleep later that day, but in a bed and the dream was crazy weird. I was in a car with two other people, one of them my best friend, but I couldn't tell you who it was and we were driving, roadtripping it to who knows where and all of a sudden there are things floating in the air. The craziest thing about these things is that they all belong in Dr. Seuss books. I am so excited in the car and manage to convince the driver to turn around and follow these things and we wind up at this big crazy lopsided house. It is the house from The Cat in The Hat, except it really isn't, but in my dream it was. The house is definitely one from a Dr. Seuss book and the inside, yes we go inside and there are people inside when we go. Two children upwards to ten or twelve and parents. The parents were the parents from Malcolm in the Middle. Weird I know.
All I know is that I end up getting lost in the house and there is another person from the car in the house with me too, but they manage to get out and I am stuck in this awful house and I had found the way out once, but now I can't manage and I am thinking in the dream to think about the book which in real life isn't really how the book goes and so I know that to go out I must act like I am going in, like it is an opposite house. I go up these crazy stairs that are circular and winding, but they don't go anywhere and I end up falling off them and not hurting myself somehow, but in the process I manage to uncurl the stairs and can't get them to go proper again. I am running around this house, trying not to get caught, thinking of reasons to be in the house if I do and taking in all the weird things in the house. Not to mention, nearly everything is orange.
I find myself on the stairs again, but this time I am above the parents room and yes apparently it was a bad time because they decided that they would like to have relations as their children were gone and they didn't know about me. Crazy thing is that although the mom had all the proper orifices, she had an additional one in the middle of her thigh and that was the one used for pleasure.
Then I woke up. Such a weird dream. I never made it out of that house. Just got grossed out,
Last night I dreamt and I dreamt a movie dream. There was a house full of orphans. I wasn't in this dream though, I was just watching it like I was really watching a movie. So this dream is unfolding, I can't remember all the details, but the girls don't like this one girl Rosalie or Rosaline is her name and the house is haunted with these nasty spirits of girls and they want to hurt one of the girls, hurt meaning kill. Rosalie seems so innocent and no one suspects her, not me the dream viewer or the headmasters and not all the girls do either, they just don't like her. I don't know, all this stuff goes on where the ghosts mess with the girls in the house and in the end this big huge fire erupts and teachers and girls are going back into the fire looking for people and they end up on balconies on the sides of the house where the fire has managed to not penetrate and the ghosts are talking through the fire and the fire is huge because the ghosts are pissed and they keep jumping forward, the flames leaping at the girls and the teachers in the front of the house and on the balconies. Rosalie walks up to the front doors and the fire/ghost tries to get her and she has this evil little smile on and it clicks in everyone's head that she is the reason for all this and that innocent people are going to die because of her selfishness. The people on the balconies become engulfed in the flame and die while the ghost screams at Rosalie as she stands there defiantly and tells her that this should be her and how she should have never escaped and she tells everyone who can hear how evil the child is and to stay away from her.
It was more intense in my dream because in my head it made more sense. After the yelling, I woke up, but I felt tight in the chest again because of the presence of evil and the anger of the spirits. It felt dangerous and so real. I can still see Rosalie cute as a button, evil as hell.
So yeah. Those are my dreams. I'm not really looking forward to any more. I like it better when I was so damned tired that I couldn't dream. That's the best sleep when you close your eyes and open them to discover you have been sleeping for 6 hours when honestly it feels like you blinked.
I'm ready for that easy sleep again. I just need my brain to shut off.
So my dream on the bus on Sunday was simple. It was about real life things. I dreamt that I was on the phone talking to 647 and that at first everything was fine, sort of. It was like before if that makes sense. We were sitting there talking and then 647 mentioned that there was so much to tell me to fill me in on and what not and once those words were spoken I had this overwhelming feeling of what did I do and oh my God I'm talking to 647. Why did I do that. It was like being pulled into a black hole. I ended up hanging up the phone like a crazy person and these texts were flowing in filling me in on 647's life and it was like I opened up Pandora's box. The feeling I had was so strong and I woke up thinking what had I done and I couldn't believe that I was talking to her. The feeling lingered for too long, but I finally realized that it was only a dream.
I blame the reminders and the playlist I was listening to on the bus. The bus was weird all together. It was headed for Toronto. There were too many Canadians on it and I decided to play things like Florence + The Machine, Stateless, and Ingrid Michaelson. Not something to fall asleep to especially when you have gone the whole weekend nearly to the border of sleep deprivation.
Now I fell asleep later that day, but in a bed and the dream was crazy weird. I was in a car with two other people, one of them my best friend, but I couldn't tell you who it was and we were driving, roadtripping it to who knows where and all of a sudden there are things floating in the air. The craziest thing about these things is that they all belong in Dr. Seuss books. I am so excited in the car and manage to convince the driver to turn around and follow these things and we wind up at this big crazy lopsided house. It is the house from The Cat in The Hat, except it really isn't, but in my dream it was. The house is definitely one from a Dr. Seuss book and the inside, yes we go inside and there are people inside when we go. Two children upwards to ten or twelve and parents. The parents were the parents from Malcolm in the Middle. Weird I know.
All I know is that I end up getting lost in the house and there is another person from the car in the house with me too, but they manage to get out and I am stuck in this awful house and I had found the way out once, but now I can't manage and I am thinking in the dream to think about the book which in real life isn't really how the book goes and so I know that to go out I must act like I am going in, like it is an opposite house. I go up these crazy stairs that are circular and winding, but they don't go anywhere and I end up falling off them and not hurting myself somehow, but in the process I manage to uncurl the stairs and can't get them to go proper again. I am running around this house, trying not to get caught, thinking of reasons to be in the house if I do and taking in all the weird things in the house. Not to mention, nearly everything is orange.
I find myself on the stairs again, but this time I am above the parents room and yes apparently it was a bad time because they decided that they would like to have relations as their children were gone and they didn't know about me. Crazy thing is that although the mom had all the proper orifices, she had an additional one in the middle of her thigh and that was the one used for pleasure.
Then I woke up. Such a weird dream. I never made it out of that house. Just got grossed out,
Last night I dreamt and I dreamt a movie dream. There was a house full of orphans. I wasn't in this dream though, I was just watching it like I was really watching a movie. So this dream is unfolding, I can't remember all the details, but the girls don't like this one girl Rosalie or Rosaline is her name and the house is haunted with these nasty spirits of girls and they want to hurt one of the girls, hurt meaning kill. Rosalie seems so innocent and no one suspects her, not me the dream viewer or the headmasters and not all the girls do either, they just don't like her. I don't know, all this stuff goes on where the ghosts mess with the girls in the house and in the end this big huge fire erupts and teachers and girls are going back into the fire looking for people and they end up on balconies on the sides of the house where the fire has managed to not penetrate and the ghosts are talking through the fire and the fire is huge because the ghosts are pissed and they keep jumping forward, the flames leaping at the girls and the teachers in the front of the house and on the balconies. Rosalie walks up to the front doors and the fire/ghost tries to get her and she has this evil little smile on and it clicks in everyone's head that she is the reason for all this and that innocent people are going to die because of her selfishness. The people on the balconies become engulfed in the flame and die while the ghost screams at Rosalie as she stands there defiantly and tells her that this should be her and how she should have never escaped and she tells everyone who can hear how evil the child is and to stay away from her.
It was more intense in my dream because in my head it made more sense. After the yelling, I woke up, but I felt tight in the chest again because of the presence of evil and the anger of the spirits. It felt dangerous and so real. I can still see Rosalie cute as a button, evil as hell.
So yeah. Those are my dreams. I'm not really looking forward to any more. I like it better when I was so damned tired that I couldn't dream. That's the best sleep when you close your eyes and open them to discover you have been sleeping for 6 hours when honestly it feels like you blinked.
I'm ready for that easy sleep again. I just need my brain to shut off.
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