☼ Sidereal Canorous Fetus

cogito ergo sum ♫

[sicafe-blog]

Angela

Angie: What are you doing now?

Me: I just cleaned the entire world.

Angie: I should probably do that...

Angie: I dedicate all the good pizzas in the universe to you.

Me: Pizza! I haven't had pizza in ten whole days or something.

Angie: They're dancing for you.

Me: Cabaret pizza.

Me: My poetry family was so beautiful to me on Thursday. I was a star.

Angie: You're always a star.

Me: You're my inspiration, though.

Angie: You're so kind.

Me: Why, thank you, miss.

Angie: Red books.

Me: Kokopelli.

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Awful small for thirteen, aren't you? We're all small. And suddenly she saw when everyone saw when they looked. The sullen anger at having been cheated of everything worth having before they were born, the hunger to get some of it back. He held the point to her neck. It was a little sting, not even a bee. She was not afraid, not really. She understood. He just didn't want to be small anymore. So she did what he asked. It wasn't that she was afraid he would hurt her, it was knowing exactly how he felt. It was just a body, what difference did it make? It was what it was, just one more sad thing.

Janet Fitch, "Paint it Black"

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Mowglifat, Mamacat, and Kiedis.

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im just someone passing by, i added you to the stream of nonsense l i sift through almost daily, sometime a few months ago, this doesnt matter but thank you for saying so many fucking things i needed to say to my nanny,who died just barely a year ago today. i havent gone a day without forgetting that none of this is happening. i was scrolling twitching through the sprawl and there it was, stopped me dead in my spinning fingertipped cyber monday crystal binge haze, and i might actually sleep.

i'm so happy i could help you in some way. sleep as much as you can. sleep in warmth, sleep with softness. "bad dreams, bad dreams, go away. good dreams, good dreams, here to stay."

[tinytimswife-blog]

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my track marks are so beautifully leaving. I'm happier than I thought I could or would be about it. also, I have a sponsor and am going to work the steps. also, I flushed a teener last Sunday on the 20th (...happy birthday, Megan).

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"have a good day, do good deeds, make good choices."

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do you have any new years resolutions or goals? do you believe in that kind of shit?

In the past I had a bitter view of New Years Resolutions. I was disappointed that everyone around me would only promise themselves health and relaxation one day of the year. It was always annoying to hear them make fun of themselves and give up after a day or week or whatever. Mostly because I ended up with that same kind of cowardice.

And last year I would've said, "Oh my god, YOU do something that's an entirely common spark of happiness among people who really don't give a shit about my bratty attitude? I think everything "everyone" likes is pathetic and I'm going to sacrifice my own happiness in the long run forever fighting against everyone because it makes me look like that tragically and beautifully sexy body on tv and I'll get more lays than you and people will be proud of me for once."

But I've thought about it from a less haughty sort of view, and I see people do it because they lack the self-discipline to initiate it alone. If that's what they needed, they made their decision and will learn someday.

I believe now that everyone needs to have goals and continue to make new ones throughout the year and not be so superstitious about properly certifying it by a date. Failure and change don't have to disappoint you if you learn.

I used to think it was stupid, I was better than having goals, only mavericks and free spirits were deserving and sexually justified and experiencing honest happiness out there somewhere. But the romance of that isn't real. I was rebelling against the demand to share something personal when I wasn't comfortable or ready. And I missed out on some serious personal growth by being some pretentious cool kid all the damn time. I never had goals that "authority" didn't command me to complete. It took away serious fucking development in my self-worth because I never felt proud of myself for me.

I'll show you what I wrote in my journal about it. I'll post it next.

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"Once you become consciously aware of just how powerful your thoughts are, you will realize everything in your life is exactly how YOU allow it to be." this is exactly where I am right now. (also: my room. in San Diego.)

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Where are you right now?

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Whats new?

meth abuse

+ heroin abuse

- $$$$

= withdrawal(10x10)^2

+ manic (episodes + depression)

=  obsessive + epiphanic (theology + algebra)

+ compulsive (lying + hiding)

= losing (girlfriend + baby + security)

= (suicidal intentions + relapse)

+ disappearing / (class + work + home)

= filed as missing person

+ returning

= violent (screaming + crying + destroying shit)

+ family (interventions + reunion)

/ Arizona + Los Angeles

= manic depression

+ San Diego

/ (Christmas/abuse)

+ (New Year's/scares)

= rehab orientation

/ fear

= irrational (defense + abuse)

/ emotional abuse

+ more violent (screaming + crying + destroying shit)

= homelessness

/ (fear + regret)

= extra room acceptance

+ more (lies + delusions)

= last (confession + chance)

/ (self evaluations + resolutions)

= freedom

- Peter Pan

/ happiness + honesty

= new things after my grandma died

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For a minute there- I lost myself, I lost myself.

Radiohead

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You told me to make it light. You told me to stop. I believed I could make it better because you had hope in me. I found out you died and I couldn’t feel my body. All I remember is his voice, surprisingly collected, “You sure you’re ready to hear what I’m about to tell you?” I can’t remember anything until sometime the next morning, sobbing and screaming in bed, willing myself to just die, too. I cried for so long and my tears were fat and tasted like meth on the pillow. It made me so angry to taste it and I got up to kill myself but Kiedis was there, too. All I can remember is feeling her body slam against the wall, and how much I wanted to make her hurt as much as I was hurting. Now whenever she sees me walking toward her, she cowers as low as she can to the ground and lowers her ears and whines and pisses all over herself. I’m ignoring Kiedis like I ignored you, and all I feel when I look at her is a feeling like the regret I feel when I look at your picture or hear your old voicemails. I remember the last time I saw you. You looked so much like my sister. Maybe because of all the weight you lost. Maybe because of the look in your eyes. That look you both had. That scream. I expected a lecture like the time the cops and paramedics came to the house looking for me when I called to tell them I was about to kill myself. But you didn't even mention this relapse. Maybe because you were too tired and you were the one that needed more help than me and you fucking already went through this relapse song and dance bullshit with my dad and you just wanted everyone to be happy and didn't feel like you could really talk to me because of everyone there. I'll never fucking really know why you didn't say anything. And I'll always regret not having the energy that day to make you laugh or even smile. I knew it was the last time I would ever see you. I knew it was the last time you would ever hug me. You rubbed my tattoos with your small hands: small fingernails and big veins on top. I told you the teal ribbon was for you. And it was perfect because it connected the four Disney characters. And you were always our Disneyland. I wish I could have given you more good memories. I'll always regret not answering your messages. I didn't want to hear you struggling to breathe like Grandpa Babe. I didn't want to have to deal with this possibility. I didn't want to start listing what I'm sorry for. I’m sorry that I’m not the grandson you were always so proud of and hopeful for. I was always so sad when you'd introduce me to your friends and list the skills and awards and talents I have. I never deserved your praise. Can't you see? Can't you see now why I don't? Can you even see me now? I'm sorry that the one Christmas I promised was yours ended up being the first fucking Christmas after your death. I'm sorry I'm so angry and nihilistic and pessimistic and not upbeat and smiley and shiny like you. I'm sorry I didn't try harder when I was sixteen and lived with you. I'm sorry I always played the middle person and never stood up for myself. I'm sorry you were the one who always ended up compromising. I'm sorry we never made it a point to visit more when you lived four feet away. I'm sorry I never returned for my stuff. I'm sorry I didn't make it a point to call you more during the time you paid for my fucking phone bill. I'm sorry I wasn't nicer to your husband. I'm sorry my selfishness was so great and obvious enough to hurt you. I'm sorry I never learned "When You Wish Upon A Star" for you on the piano. I'm sorry I was late to your funeral. I'm sorry that I couldn't say a speech for you. I'm sorry for the reasons why. I'm sorry I'm such a bastard. I'm sorry I don't have good days or do good deeds or make good choices. But I love you so fucking much. I took this picture of my dad and my sister. I know you would say, "Thats so beauuuuutiful!" like the way you do. I keep forgetting you're dead. I keep remembering different things about you. Like your scent and your sayings and your favorite things and random stories and pieces of advice. I can't list them.

[ampersammed]

Writing about the river, as if we still go annually.

What’s funny about this paper is that I write it like we’re the only ones who go.

I wrote briefly about how preparations went. The three-way late-night phone calls about who is bringing what, and the long, anxious car ride with our parents.

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...summer dreams, ripped at the seams... ...why is it this thing called life that's got me going crazy... ...been running so long, I nearly lost all track of time... ...so I won't hesitate no more, no more, it cannot wait. I'm sure there's no need to complicate, our time is short. This is our fate, I'm yours... ...thanks for the memories, thanks for the memories... ...but I came back with the belief that everyone I love is gonna leave me... ...but don't you know that only fools are satisfied? Dream on, but don't imagine they'll all come true... ...I feel so far from where I've been, so I go, and I will not be back here again... ...give it away, give it away, give it away, now... ...I'm gone as the day is fading... ...look at me, look at me, driving and I won't stop... ...wrote my injuries all in the dust... ...and it feels so good to be alive and on top... ...I'm gonna let my little light shine like there's no tomorrow... ...singing Sweet Home Alabama all summer long... ...look into your heart and you'll find: the sky is yours... ...iubirea mea sunt eu, fericirea (find every happiness, my love)... ...and it's our god-forsaken right to be loved, loved, loved, loved, loved.

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I LOVE your Nirvana tattoo! I'm a big fan of Nirvana and I was absolutely shocked when I saw your post. It's a perfect tattoo c:

Thank you so much! :] My artist was absolutely shocked when she was done, too, she claims she started the piece not knowing what the hell she was going to do. Oh, I have Kurt's signature behind it, too.

[erialcbear-blog]

Visit Original Link

[sicafe-blog]

Fun. - All Alright

I've given everyone I know a good reason to go. I was surprised you stuck around long enough to figure out that it's all alright. I guess it's all alright. I got nothing left inside of my chest, but it's all alright. Yeah, it's all alright, I guess it's all alright. I got nothing left inside of my chest, but it's all alright.

And now all my loves that come back to haunt me, my regrets and texts sent to taunt me-- I never claimed to be more than a one-night stand. And oh, I've given everyone I know a good reason to go. But I came back with the belief that everyone I love is gonna leave me. And it's all alright. I guess it's all alright. I got nothing left inside of my chest, but it's all alright. Yeah, it's all alright. I guess it's all alright. I got nothing left inside of my chest, but it's all alright.

And I know, oh no, you've fallen from the Sun-- crashing through the clouds, I see you burning out. And I know, oh no, that I put up a front-- but maybe, just this once, let me keep this one. Yeah, it's all alright. I guess it's all alright. I got nothing left inside of my chest, but it's all alright. Yeah, it's all alright. I guess it's all alright. I got nothing left inside of my chest, but it's all alright.

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whats your name?

My name is Robert.