I'm Sorry.

I believe I should stop talking. It's really not helping anybody. Don't worry, I'm not going to go all 'I hate myself' but I CAN be a real idiot sometimes. Like now. I suspect I'm being a bit of an idiot now. Whenever I get angry or upset, I can react in two ways: go intense, or the complete opposite, be passive aggressive. A little weird how things all work out. And I feel really bad for my friends. I truly do. Again, not saying I'm Satan, and why would they ever talk to me, but, you know, it must be hard to be friends with me. At times. It's hard to talk to people, period. And it never helps when you're arguing on chat, or IM. Nobody can hear the sound of your voice. You can't type fast enough. Words are hard to understand. Because online, everything is based on conversational words. You can't use your voice to show your feelings, happy or sad. No, what you've gotta now do is pray that the way you're wording this sentence can come across with the right additude. Sounds hard, right? For example: I'm honestly hoping that this post sounds relaxed, just a normal person explaining something. However, depending on the reader, it could sound as if I'm desperately ranting. And yeah.
Truth, I love my friends. They're all amazing in many, many ways. I just hate feeling so misunderstood when I'm having a conversation. I dunno, I don't always...but it just makes me feel stupid, shallow, and pretty damn acerbic. And, I hope they don't see me that way. I hope I don't come across as insane as I feel sometimes. I'm pretty intense, and I've got a fair share of emotions. I can be normal, relaxed, fun, laid-back. And I usually am, on the inside. Maybe they get that. They're all geniouses, after all.

Teeth.

Everybody's love seems to have a song.
Something that they both hum to each other,
Both enjoy, you know?
But something interesting I've realized in this past hour
A plug that's finally connected to my hub of a brain circut.
It's the simple truth that
I have no song.
And how that relates to teeth, I don't know. Mouths? Vampires? Whatever.

if paper had a face
would it smile or feel the same way
that you do when you've been replaced
by a machine or computer we make.

RAWR: The explaination.

I keep trying to shorten my posts into little simple beings, like air-tight stories or sentences that can be read and create a "WOAH" effect in someone's mind. But here's the thing, sometimes that is an easy task, other times it's hard. At the moment, I'm finding it pretty hard. You see, everytime I post I go, 'Alrightie, just finished my post for the night. Cool.' and then get all fidgity after reading it over. Cause that 'Alrightie' turns into a 'Shit, I'll come across the wrong way!' which upsets my pool of thought. (I've made it a pool, instead of a train. Kay? Chill.)
Truth be told, I don't want to delete my posts, especially when I have no reason too. They're perfect normal little bloches of idea ink that filter through my system; sometimes ending up on this page. A good handlefull of these posts are bloches that have only crossed my mind maybe once or twice, but I'm jotting down for the hell of it.
Coming across as intense is a thing I do often, every emotion excellarated to a point where you'll gasp for breath. But, in reality, I'm just chillin in my basement lair, typing gleefully away. Passive emotions of a misleading hand. I'm cursed.

Reading back

'A scattered array of french and math.'
Have been the remainders of poetry left on my wall
In the September time of MeYou.
What the fuck?
I do declare.

The taste of regret as it leaves your stomach
Coating your tongue with every noun
Watery eyes the only thing that makes sense now

No worries

If you could ask the question you wanted to, what would that be? Maybe a "Really, how ARE you?" "Did you see truly see Jesus, Charlie?" "Is that a man?" "Did you actually mean THAT?" "How long had it been?" "Did you ever wonder..." even "What colour is the sky to you?" perhaps a "Have you ever thought...?" or "Is it because you loved her, you could never love me?"

But once you knew a girl and you named her lover
Danced with her in kitchens through the greenest summer
But autumn came, she disappeared, you can't remember
Where she said she was going to

Ghost longs for Robot Heart.

I wish there was a place where the wind never stopped. Where grass always grew. Where people kept dying every second, and windows were always smashed. Covered in dirt, every house would be in a constant flux. People leaving, windows closing, doors slamming, talking, laughter, the smell of dinner, husband's returning, children sleeping. Where cars would spin. And honk. Where people actually went where they wanted to go. Conversation would happen across the border daily. "Oh how are you today, sir?"
"Good, and you?"
"Quiet well Henry..."

And so the day goes. Exchanging smiles in lines for coffee, a pleasant glance across a bar. I wanna live in a place like that. Things happen, life happens. And the best part, I'm involved. A piece of me gets to be put into this. I'm part of a circut, in a HUGE robot heart.

When everything is lonely, I can be my own best friend.
I'll grab a coffee and the paper
Have my own conversations.
With the sidewalks and the pigeons
And my window reflection.

Ideas!

I've begun to think, that mood swings might not be the best...not for phone, car, nor sea. Stick to your mood. Get a pill.

Purged a poem I swore was finished
Heaping lines half chewed unconscious
{Grace, Dear and the Headlights}

Queer

I had a dream
One night, one day
About my flesh wasting away
About the needles in my skin
I've never had a dream so grim
About my thoughts all gone to rest
About the silence in my chest
It was about
The many bugs
That now occupied my old dead lungs
That filled the sockets emptied of eyes
That ate the heart I had despised
The same morning
I awoke
My mind was blurry, clouded of smoke.
I'd never had a dream so grim...
And why the fuck was I a skeleton?

Rocks and Daggers

A song in my head. I propose this to be a life song. Ch-yeah.

The rocks
they will always hold in the sea
and erosion can't stop their being
oh no currents can defeat them
and I am thankful for the love
these rocks have always given

And although
this boat is steady now
one wave could pull me under
and I'll be stranded out at sea
and I will pray that those rocks
will be there for me

and the sun always shines down on your shoes
could be a blue blue christmas for you
'cos when the sun always shines down on your shoes
could be a blue blue christmas for you

I love the way that your hair is always neat
and your skirts fall below your knees
and your love is so pure and so clean

Oh, it comforts me (x4)

I love the way that you're always surprised
oh, to find truth in all my lies
'cos you trust me and ignore my disguise

Oh, it comforts me (x4)

But there's no need to play with my heart (x15)

Silly friends...

Written by Edyn and I. What a good way to spend a bus ride, just together, you and I.

You and me
A house in a tree
We will be together
For ever and ever
Cuz I love you
And we love we
Lasting happy happiness
You and me...!

Got your fill?

Blinking,
Breathing
Constantly
In Motion.

Dreams dripping,
tears flowing
It's the
black oil

of your soul.

Eyes of multi-colored
depth,
kalidescope soul.
Can you see me?

Only in my world,
can you know my
wordless thoughts.
Then I awake,
and I am
Silent.

Notes of blood,
Sounds of crimson
Music of my anguish.

Breaking hearts,
cracking minds
Getting lost
In the world's design.

I'm floating
on a cloud
of toxic smoke,
and breathing
the fumes
of your regret.

Rock-a-by baby
violently shake.
Being alone
is all that
it takes.

Written by Julia De Aragon.

A friend's basement, I am worthy

Sitting in a friend's house, buried deep in the burrow of Spencer, currently deciding upon movies to watch. Our current choices range from British movies, like Snatch, love movies, like Across The Universe, and random picks, like The Blair Witch Project. Hm...some time has passed. I think we have decided on Snatch. I hear this is about Brad Pitt topless-interesting. As if there isn't enough of that in the world. I believe, that someday in this world, a huge group of females will summon all of their estrogen, shooting magic power beams. Which in turn, will screw up the world's atmosphere, making all "hot" men's shirt rip off...permanently. What a great day for all un-attractive feminists of the world. :P
Yeah, so sorry that this post isn't very interesting, I'm just feeling a bit strange. Oh look, the movie is on, and someone just said it was very complex. Shit. Goodbye my loves.

Introspection at its best

I have to move within the structure of society. I cannot talk. I've got to think, and observe this world. It's a thing that people do less often, due to lack of attention. Well, if I've got no interests or real meaning worth sharing, I might as well blend in, smooth out. No longer a wrinkle in the population, I can sit. I can stand. Flip around some spoons, shoot smiles at coffee cups, even jaunt around oblivious. Because when nobody notices you, isn't that the best form of attention?

'In this life like weeds
You're the dirt I'll breathe.'
{Life Like Weeds, Modest Mouse}

A useless twitch for a writer

I want to say the things you want
I want to do the things you'd like
I want to love the things you love

But when you want the things you crave
You'll dig yourself
An easy grave
Where your personality will lay to rest
Took over by thumps inside your chest
A cavity that's not worth eating
You search for the secret meaning
In the want
In the tire
Running on your own desire
Of things you cannot have or need
Oh, What an ugly, disgusting deed.

Even the shadows can't save me

You know what's depressing?

Realizing you've done everything wrong.
Twice.

On a somber note, a lyric:
"I thought I love you and our love would be forever
How could I hit you, the only one who ever loved me?"
Said the man, said the man to his shadow
~Winter Windows, Sea Wolf.

If you could hide, would you crawl away with me?

The longer I sit here denying the fact that I don't have that much homework, if any, and that updating my blog is MUCH more effective than doing my schoolwork, the more romantic I feel. Ughmsss...romantic. That word is used to much, I know. It gets annoying after a while, and starts sounds a bit cheesy. I guess I'll say lovesick...Or even whimsical. Iunnooo...I keep finding that during my loud eighth period French class, I'm pouring over a piece of notebook paper, like, worshiping it, quickly and quietly scrawling out nonsensical lines. Are they lyrics? Not really sure. Am I writing poems? Maybe. It's mawkish.
Is my pen trying to tell me something? I would assume that it knows better of me, considering that I can be quite passive to myself.
Some syrupy thoughts: Could I steal you away? Would you hold me? We could sleep under trees? I'd have no home, for we'd live on buses...On the roof of my house we'd have a house for ourselves, you and me...Is sunlight a just for your face? Are photographs worthy? Why am I so tired? Why can't I stop laughing? I love you...What? Wait, no. Could time freeze...? NO. A long conversation in a strawberry feild, with you? Some music for me? No. We could share popcorn. No. I wonder if you like buses. I wonder if you like dark. I wonder if you like reading. Could we laugh? Nooooo. Am I crazy? Yes. But I love you...Do I love you? No. I'd love to crawl into a little hole, where we could eat chocolate and drink soup. Catching fireflies? NO. Noo, no, no. No. Stop mind. Stop head. You are not lovesick over anything. You're just silly. Silly. Silly-silly.
Silly. :P