Hey little sister, I heard you went to mister so-and-so, knock knock knocking on his door again last night, said you needed it bad, well you know that ain't right; cause so many times you've come to me cry, crying, trying to stop, you said it hurts so bad, so please don't let you go back for more.. Day to day, I waiver somewhere between being wildly high, pathetically low, and completely numb and complacent to everything going on. Today happens to be a down day, it happens sometimes you know. It may have to do with coming down off of the high of being with two of my favorite boys, having wildly fantastic dreams, and getting drunker than I have ever been, and drinking for the first time in three or four months. And desperately wanting a muse. To wake up in the morning in someone else's bed, snuggling, with the sun crawling over our skin, and then sneaking out of bed before he wakes up, to go to my laptop and softly click the keys into submission, creating again something beautiful and wonderful and completely tapped into my emotions, like I used to. Back when a simple "YES!" scrawled across my poetry from a man that I respected meant that I could take over the world. It meant that I was a great creature, wonderfully artistic and completely in tune and touch with myself. My little sister is a zombie in a body with no soul, a role she has learned to play in a world today where nothing else matters.. That disturbs me a little - no soul. I find that the things that should affect me, that should make me feel sympathetic or upset just don't anymore. I cry over movies and commercials on tv. I cry over myself, but I am lacking compassion and concern for the rest of the human race in general. Being treated like shit everyday by customers who don't acknowledge that you are anything more than a machine, present to abide by all their demands really wears on you. I've been thinking of going to school. I've changed my mind. There is no reason for me to want to go to school to learn a career that will have me dealing with more ignorant, demanding, ungrateful people. Why should I help people and treat them decently if they're not going to do that to me? There was a time, once, when I was completely .. sacrificial even, in the way that I treated others. Now I have become cold and sarcastic about just about anything. I am absolutely caustic if I've decided that I don't like you and waiver between the extremes of singlemindedness to get what I want in a person, and complete cowardice. It's pathetic and disgusting. We spill the pills and sweep them What I desire more than anything right now is to experience emotion, genuine and vivid and colorful, like sapphire. And if I cry, then I cry and that's alright. If it breaks me, then it breaks me, it will be okay. I'll be able to rise up from the ashes and live again after that. I just need something to happen, something to move, because I can't stand this a second longer. Hey little sister, I heard you went to mister So-and-so, knock knock knocking on his door again last night, said you needed more..
Disclaimer: These are my personal thoughts, emotions and opinions -- they are not intended to offend or aggress upon anyone. Likewise, though I do appreciate a constructively critical comment on occasion, I prefer non-hateful and thoughtful comments with respect to myself. I shouldn't have any problems with that though, we're all grown ups here, right? Please note that any offensive, aggressive and anonymous comments will be deleted from my comments, notes and guestbook, as I like knowing that the rest of my readership doesn't have to read that trash. Also, the HTML on this design has been designed solely by myself, Amanda Neal, and song lyrics are from the song "Wild Horses" by Natasha Bedingfield.
Monday, Jul. 11, 2005 ~ 10:42 a.m.
under the rug..