Every Thursday she came in to the restaurant and he was her waiter, for 15 years. She was adventurous, she tried something new each time she sat down. Eventually he tested the cooks to come up with something new to surprise her. For 15 years this, she, was the highlight of his week. He was there for her every Thursday, including the Thursday she came in with him. He was there waiter. He took their order. He entertained them. He put the ring in her glass. He quietly bit his tongue. And in this show i watch every week she was actually awake during his confession but said nothing. Her husband made it out of surgery. the waiter did not. She never got to confess. He died never knowing, for 15 year.

So many shows have an episode with this scenario, and every time i think of the confessions id make. the secrets id finally let go. the girl id finally tell. This time though i cant think of anything, or anyone. Sure, sounds blissful, to die with no secrets. But it makes me incredibly sad that right now, if the end of the world was here, i would be entirely alone. And this is not helping the feeling of actually wanting a girl lately. Its really weird. Sort of coincidental that this is around Valentines Day. Makes me think this isnt real and its the dumb sap of this time getting to me. But more so feeds the fact that i NEED something that i have not a clue what it could be. Which eventually, down the long road of thoughts, makes me think i miss you. So i have to convince myself i dont by getting mad at the thought. But what am i really trying to convince myself? I dont like where this is going..

and sometimes i wish my mind wasnt black. these holes ive dug out, these doors ive closed, the lights i burnt out, i wish i never did. i dont remember a lot, but nothing stays gone. i dont know what might trigger this to try and resurface. im not afraid of it, i honestly would rather face a monster with a face than one i have no clue what it is.

and i dont stand a chance against the monsters that my mind creates


p.s.
i find it sad that i cant even post this on here. i cant post it or really say it all. its a draft on here, tumblr, written down and scribbled out. the one thing thats actually been on mind.

every day really is the same. if it wasnt for my phone id have no damn idea what day it was, like knowing really makes a difference. on the same note, like im off with days, im off with what time it is. it always feels later or earlier than expected. probably due to daylight savings but i have never taken this long to adjust. i seriously need something in my life to build some structure. every day is the same. hopefully i am waking up instead of continuing the day. waking up, i mean waking up around 4 pm. and its either a phone call from a friend, or just the act of opening my eyes. from there it really is just killing time. actually i hope i wake to a friend calling. honestly, i think being bored is the worse feeling. i mean at least with heart ache or whatever theres some motive. my mind is on something and there is a reason im feeling this fucking pain. i have no motivation, i have no direction. the only light in this dark tunnel i have are damp matches. the only possible way to find a way out and i have no idea how to make it work. i dont know.

i was watching men of a certain age today and i really liked it. i missed most of it but what i saw i liked and will watch it as soon as somewhere online has it. usually takes a week. anyways, i think its sad that i felt i could relate to the way these men in their mid 40's feel. but really does this boredom, this empty feeling like were losing sight of what we love and who we are, ever really go away? life is just distracting yourself so much that you never have the time to think about this. because youre an liar if youve never stared so deep into nothing and saw yourself in it.

im just killing time, yeah, before it kills me

more into my life. it fucking snowed! on the outskirts of tracy. HOLY FUCKING SHIT i was unaware of this business until it was too damn late. my eyes are out for you snow. its been bitter cold lately. needle point cold. i want it to snow heavily here. and if that happens i probably will wish it never did.

2 weeks till title fight. i really really want this to happen. i need it.

a little writing

stop, stop, stop tearing me open
just right when im no longer in
i always know when im back on your mind
these scars youve left seem to hurt every time
please let my eyes close tonight
its done, im done i swear that i am fine
every frown, every tear, you give to me, what for?
when every smile, every laugh, theyre all his to ignore
tonight you remember who i am
tomorrow its always 'whats his name?'
and ill tell you with my hand that a long time ago this ended
whether you smile or not isnt a burden for me to mend

I'm a realist I'm a romantic I'm an indecisive piece of shit

its not just one, i guess its all of it. i dont remember what they were exactly, just..

i feel like i have two sides when it comes to this. theres this hopeful person inside of me. one that is willing to hand over their heart given a chance to do so. one that will stand up for love when its not insight. the person i used to be i know is still here.
and there is another side. a darkened and damaged person who never admits to emotion. a hollowed chest member of the loveless whatever. who is fine being alone. who cant even manage to get close to someone. the person im becoming and maybe have already.

no side really has a greater pull. which really is in between who i was and am now. which leads a lot to my indecisiveness and blahblah. i say i am hopeful and i really try to be on every aspect in life. ( in a real sense, get over your god) i like to believe in love, even at times when its not for me. and that kicks in the other, i cant get close to someone, and i know i should like a girl, ill even say "wtf, why dont i like her". but even that statement brings back the other side. and that statement is a realization that i feel it, and that realization alone is enough to say "hey, you fucking like her you fuck" and ill throw in my analysis on girls which list reason after reason why a relationship is not the boat i want to be in. but who the fuck am i kidding, its all i really want. give me the chase, give me the challenge, give me your stubborn fucking self and make me rip my hair out! no id rather be alone. SHUT THE FUCK UP.

EXACTLY

i had no idea this other side had an existence really. but i said in a blog before that there are all kinda of trauma.

i love lord of the rings and this just reminds me a smeagol/gollum. yes.

sinking

storytime. because i can never just simply say what i feel or think.


before i fell asleep last night i forgot to lock the door. i wake up to a stale chilled air, slightly familiar, but not welcoming. before my eyes can focus on the walls around me and my feet touch the floor, i feel that crawling on the back of my neck. the door has been kicked wide open, nearly off the hinges. i have forgot the lock. a night with an open door, open to all the bugs, creatures, shadows, and screams of the night. immediately i am rushed with anger and swing at the beasts that have taken refuge in my home. nested and burrowed deeply are the creatures i constantly force and keep out. and that "im going to hate today" feeling i had felt even before i was awake has taken hold.

my fists clenched tightly, gripping freshly torn hair, i begin this cleaning process. cursing down the walls around me, picking fights at the smiles around, trying to find blame in a room with no mirror. first things first, i get the simple things out. things ive already ridden that like to creep back in. nostalgia cant help but sink in as im throwing it right back out. the familiar brush against the grain upon my finger tips. its hard to sort through the "clearly in the way once held treasures of the past." i found myself sitting against a wall holding these sought items, lost in the maps of then and now. regaining my grip of today as the sun stood where no shadows could be found, i throw out the rest knowing these gold pieces are now nothing more than bronze coated whatever.

after kicking and throwing back out the shadows of whenever, i now had the room to suck out the bone chilling screams. very difficult to get all the way out without hearing those haunting whispers. instead of being thrown into rage im brought to a stop with their words repeating and repeating in an eerie voice. the more and more i trek through the howls and growls the harder it is to to know where i am and why, i am. thrown off balance i stumble off trail. now aimlessly threading through streets i never wanted to feel, let alone see, again. a reality check to exactly what kind of nothing i am and will forever become. as the streets become dark, and the lights no longer pierce the night i am able to feel the fire that reminds me to breathe. to embrace my lack of motivation and actions to through caution at bay, dropping the map to the ground and venture out of the streets knowing no sort of direction. and now the trash bins overflowing and bags and bags from the vacuum lining the wall.

resting casual again in my comfort of home are the creatures that have slayed me down to the core. just the sight is difficult to bare, memories even worse. they are all the same and everywhere, i dont think i can escape. the similarities shine so bright they cannot be ignored to those who still walk the light. anger is too small of a word to describe the hate radiating from my eyes to fist. every flesh wound entered begins to open and stain blood red on the back of my shirt. so cold if the beat in my chest still had existed could push tears tinted with hate down my face. holding such items im brought to a locked grip. a soothing feel of cotton rest in my palm. the detested sent floats to my senses and im brought to the ground. i must hurry to bury these back. hung back up and not to be touched again i am close with one last.

i can not run from, not cleanse these walls, floor, nor skin with the bugs that burrow deep. quickly manifest and spread to every inch of myself. the disgust of the crawl, tick and buzz i cannot handle. a long life has never been granted to such evils, but an eternal scar branded upon anything it touches has its own life. no soap or spray can rid these marks of my skin. scar tissue waving like a flag draped across my flesh neighbored to the ink of me. i will never be rid of these. swept up and thrown into the closet, piles upon piles i shut the door. my trash, my burden i can not pass on to decompose become once again. the closet fills quickly and i must remember to lock the door so this mess does not spill out another night.

bringing everything i am back up right. rising to my feet again with the sun, i have locked the door again. its a haunting that must be overcome. calming tunes drown the air and the rest of my mind. brought back up to surface i can wave without drowning. realizing what you mean to me is more than i can ever say, well at least as much that i know right now. but who am i if i didnt say i dont care.

trauma drama

a trauma. thats all it is. like nearly drowning when you a child, and for the rest of your life you cant even manage the thought of being in a body of water greater than ankle deep. or any scenario you think fits better for you. something life changing. to alter your state of mind because of great pain, loss, sorrow, and all that good stuff. and as cliche, young, naive, or whatever you want to say, a broken heart can damn right be right up there with shark attack. and just like the fear you feel when water reaches your knees, that rush of nightmares that can make you freeze in the heat can be found in a familiar song, those sunsets that will always belong to her, that weakening scent, even a look like you catch in the far corner of your eye that nearly caused you to crash your car. even long after being over it, the effects are still there. the developed "type" to feeling you you cant get close to anything and eventually hate everything. that person you grew into believing you've learned and will always learn. the person you like to be is because of you. but really you havent learned at all because you will always feel the same way. and its not because of you at all and you have to remember them because they are why you are you. and you remember this all right before you go to sleep. and now theres only two ways to go. suppress this the very moment you wake to only think again that night, or let it drag on every day and become fond of the dead romantic society and push the image that your heartless and dont need everything you used to stand for to that you believe it too. even then it eventually catches up to you and you remember and think and write while listening to old mix's because you cant ever sleep and your alone for hours with the thought till you fall asleep and in the back of your thoughts you wonder when this memory will rush back to where you have no control.