The Complete Book of The Common Jay

Memoirs of a recovering heart. A lot of this is unedited unless stating otherwise. 

[thechroniclesofpatience]

The Silent Song

When I kiss you it’s like,  the world falls quite just for us. The only sounds heard,  are two tongues saying “Hi, hello, how are you?” The silence persists and continues to the beat of your heart.  against my chest,  the beat comes out again, again and again. Oh how I love falling,  to the silent song you sing,  while you are kissing me

[thechroniclesofpatience]

break just like glass pt.1 of 04/07/10

Max I have to say something before I tell you about how I got so broken up. Remember Jacob? He was the only one I loved, but I was so young. I had this fear that when I do tell people about how I fell in love at thirteen that they would think I wouldn’t have had a clue about true love back then. When I told you this fear you actually comforted me by telling me “love can happen at any age”. Thank you Max, you were very kind to say this.

As kind as that memory was with you Max the sea of life is rough. Of course I was thirteen it was February 16th and we decided to be official; Jacob and I. Months past and I realized he was my getaway, my hope, my shinning light when things would get dark, he was my everything. I was his optimism, his muse, his best friend and the only one who knew about the terrible awful things that his father had done to his family. I was his brightest light in this sea of black.

Tim and Mandy; brother and sister, were our two closest friends. We did everything together, celebrated birthdays, spent breaks off school together. Even experimented with drugs together. I trusted them, but not as much as I trusted Jacob. I never still to this day trusted anyone as much as Jacob. Not even myself.

Call me prude, but I think I had the right idea at thirteen, Jacob and I never used tongue when we kissed. I just wasn’t ready. We hugged and that was about as close as touchy as we got with one another. Jacob had tremendous patience with me. I trusted him and I knew he wouldn’t go else where for sex he just wasn’t like that. We remained virgins with one another.

Our first kiss; I remember it, I’ll never forget it. It was early March and snow was still on the ground, but just barely. We left Jacob’s house to walk to Tim and Mandy’s. It was long and we wanted it to be, our conversations would go on for hours almost never ending. Jacob was telling me how after high school he wanted to try and find his older brother and he wanted me to be there with him when he did. I got slap happy whenever he mentioned me in his plans. He pulled me close with a smile on his face and we walked together silently after my emotions bubbled over. We reached the closest street lamp near Mandy’s and Tim’s house and stopped under it. Snow was starting to fall and it felt like we were in our own personal snow globe. Standing face to face, body to body I observed the world outside our little snow globe.

I stated how quiet the world seems to be when snow fell. I looked up at him and he got closer then whispered ” I love this silence. I can feel your heart beating, I can almost hear it. Can you hear mine?”

I shook my head and asked to have a try. Closing my eyes I remember to listen for his heart’s beat. I  had felt it on my chest and I could also feel him closing in on me. He then placed his lips on mine and held me closer. The sensation of his lips on mine and the rush of this energy surging through me made it feel like there was a tingle in my ribs. This feeling in my ribs was like excitement and longing had met in my stomach, spilling over into the rest of my body. That made me feel like I wanted to cry, but instead I left my senses swim and lose control for a little bit. I wondered if it was like that for him when he kissed me.

Now you know what I lost the day he died Max. I felt betrayed, because the one person I trusted left me alone. Stranded me with no one it felt like. I admit I had Mandy and Tim, but no one ever was that close to me before. I’ve tried, but no one had come close to what I felt for Jacob.

It’s like they all know I’ve already been in love, I’ve already had my turn. But wait, can’t i have another? When I pushed you out of my life Max it was mainly because I wanted you still to be my friend and to care. But silly me, that’s the thing that I realized about you Max. You couldn’t have been my friend because you never cared for me, not as a friend. When you read this Max I can only imagine that you’ll come up with something to defend yourself, but I’ll never hear it. Because it’s a lost cause to you. You don’t care enough to mend the broken. You can just keep living like the broken is not even here.

Well I’m still here, I’m still broken up and time takes too long for a wound like you left in me to heal alone. A needle sewing thread to pull me back together would be nice. Your dirty hands could do the work, but that would just leave an infection. Infected by you Max is better than healing with a handicap in the end. Don’t you think?

[thechroniclesofpatience]

break just like glass pt.2 of 04/07/10

Tim would say I had a bad choice in lovers, Mandy said I just hadn’t found the right one. There was some truth in all that was said by my two friends. As the years went on without Jacob, Tim and I grew a lot closer than Mandy and I. I guess through me losing someone so close and Tim losing his best friend we depended on each other more often than we had before. I felt like him knowing Jacob I could share the same things with Tim that I did with Jacob. Tim and I always came to each others rescue for advice on love or date issues, Jacob issues, family things and just some friend company to play ps2. But when my relationship with my ex-girlfriend Sarah ended, things between us began to get rocky.

"You’re gonna go back to her and she’s gonna use you again. But I won’t ever use you Hayley, I love you. I’m in love with you." Stunned, I’m speechless, dumbfounded and sitting still feeling like this ride moves too fast. Really I never saw this coming. Tim was my best friend he’s not supposed to fall in love with me. Of course I love him, but just like a brother. I had no special tingles when I hung around Tim like I had with Jacob. No chemistry between him and I like that "slut" Sarah and I did. I tried to explain this to him, but my brain started thinking at a faster rate and he interrupted me with:

"He never loved you, at least that’s what he told me"

Stab; “what?” I asked him, no I begged him to tell me what he meant. Tim stated that Jacob had no real use for me that Jacob would have never had killed himself if he had really loved me. My mind and my heart skipped like a bad roll of film on a movie reel. Tim went on explaining about all these things Jacob supposedly said to him while we were together, while Jacob was alive. The thought rolled like a quarter across a table circling to a flat sudden drop; Jacob never loved me…

Tim was breaking me down, he knew how to, I give him kudos for manipulating me the way he did. Pushing all the right buttons to destroy my love for someone who I cared for so deeply. He could only have some slight idea of what destruction he was causing in my head. It’s amazing what trust can do to you.

While I was frozen in thought I could hear him drop lines like “but I’m the one who really loves you and I’ll never hurt you.”

Staring off into space and thinking about his lines. I thought and then said. “But you just did.”

"Come again?"

"You said you’d never hurt me, but you just did. All those things about Jacob. Tim, they hurt." Tim sighed and tried to explain somehow it was better I knew the truth so I’d stop caring about Jacob.

I was starting to cry, I was getting scared I didn’t know what to believe. I didn’t want to be in the room anymore, I didn’t want Tim to see that he had won. That he had gotten to me, the sign of tears rolling down my cheeks might feel like a battle victory for him. I didn’t want to be alone with him anymore. He tried to comfort me with arms, his arms. Then he forced his kiss on me and it felt dirty. I yelled and wriggled out of his grips.

Flinging myself to his bedroom door and fleeing from his hands that tried to stop me from leaving his room. I was racing past his older brother Kevin in the hallway, crying down the stairs and into the kitchen where I found Mrs. Olsen standing there with Tupperware dishes in her hand.

You think that was it Max but you’re wrong. Tim kept calling, leaving me e-mails I didn’t want to continue to read. He told me he loved me and what he wanted to do to me. His sister was no help she just felt indifferent towards me and about the situation. Drama was starting to rise in our little scene of friends. Most them took my side, but it’s not like it matters. Because what happened in the end had happened and there is no erasing it.

I wasn’t over, weeks later after Thanksgiving break it was Christmas break and our friend T.G was having a party. Tim was there and I ignored him for the whole night up until there was eight of us left. He fallowed me upstairs and I told him to leave me alone. But he wouldn’t unless he got to talk to me. That’s all he wanted, just to talk. I told Craig I was going to talk with him; Craig was worried about me going anywhere near Tim especially alone in any room with him. I kept the door ajar which was some of the conditions Craig would let me go to talk with Tim. “if that door closes I’m busting it down and I don’t care if he did or didn’t lay a hand on you, he’s getting his ass kicked.”

Tim talked, he did all the talking, all the breaking of the furniture and locking the door with a chair in the way. I ran and he held me down and I cried. I tried to place my mind onto far off thoughts. It didn’t work Max, you know what I felt? I didn’t even know what I felt. Maybe it was a combination of things.

It started with him holding me down and I know tears were falling because he told me I looked pretty when I cried which made me not want to cry. I never looked at him Max, not while he was making his way under my shirt or unbuttoning my jeans. The feelings that waved over me while his cold hands and fingers made their ways about my body. I didn’t want to feel anymore, I didn’t want to be alive anymore, I raged against everything that he did, but I couldn’t do anything. He whispered the most hurtful things, the most disgusting things in my ear that made me churn in my stomach and wriggle within his grips while he took my pride away. I couldn’t help, but listen and the things he said made me cry, which made him kiss me harder which made me try not to cry, but I just couldn’t help to just cry floods of more tears.

The door broke open it took several kicks to break it down; I was told.

I felt his grips scratch away from my neck and wrists, the weight of his body off mine. Feeling exposed I was picked up by Craig and carried into another room full of girl friends of the men who were beating the shit out of the boy who molested the innocence away from a girl. As soon as Craig left me on the bed, he went back to where Tim and I had been “talking” to finish what the men had started.

Left alone in the room full of silent girls; I felt their eyes on me. My pants were undone, my shirt was unbutton and awry. My body was positioned awkwardly to where you could see uncovered bits and pieces of me. From their silence I could just tell that they didn’t know what to do with me. Another room full of burdened people on my account of my silly emotions. Rolling over I pulled up my pants and buttoned my shirt as I sat up to face them. Their eyes all on me, one of them was crying and she just came towards me with open arms to wrap me up in her embrace.

From that hug I knew what she felt; there was nothing she could do or say that would make what had happened that night go away. Nothing. She understood that. Not a hug could give back what I lost in that room. The other two girls then shared what was left of my body. One squeezed my hands and the other combed my hair, the first one rocked me to comfort. I began to sob, sob and sob. I sobbed so hard and so long it felt like there was nothing that was going to come out anymore.

Max, not even what Jacob taught me could release this emotion I felt for the rest of my life. I’ve tried to cut…I even tried to re-open the same special scar where Jacob first showed me how to relieve my emotions from me. Nothing would work Max, nothing. Not one thing could I do to make this feeling of shame and disgust for myself go away. Even all the cuts and deep wounds that I made wouldn’t make it go away.

He scarred me like a miner scars the Earth for coal; A big chunk of me is missing and now it’s too big to fill. At least that’s what I thought then, that day when I took a blade to that special scar…Another door was kicked in, but I don’t actually remember that.

Fatigue made my head so heavy as I lifted it up. Soon realizing I was leaning against my bed on the floor of my bedroom. My father was looking at me and when I met his gaze he patted me on the knee and said: “We can fix this” He then got up to get his first aid kit to mend the wound that was currently bleeding through my t-shirt and soiling my jeans. It looked a lot worse than it was. But I cried with fear that I might die from the loss of so much blood. I’ve never seen so much blood in my life of sixteen years.

That was the day I started to heal. As my father placed the bandages around my wrist, I imagined  at that, literally, someone setting me up to heal mentally. I was at least thinking it was time to heal, signs of bandages holding you together and all… What a tragedy it takes to have someone finally see it isn’t the end yet. We all have to hit rock bottom to see where we can be.

I meant to ask you Max; Have you ever hit rock bottom?

[thechroniclesofpatience]

january 2003; introducing lilly mars

Not today Max, definitely not. I just don’t feel like writing to you at the moment. But I know I promised and threatened to tell a bad memory at you, but it just so happens I want you to know about a happy memory. The day Jacob and I met. Now, this good memory leads to bad memories, but that’s all philosophical and we’re not traveling down that road. Promises and threats…I never break them. So, we’re just taking it back, Max. All the way to seventh grade.

They made a movie out of being a typical thirteen year old girl going through changes. I was something along those lines, there are changes in your life you just cannot avoid as a thirteen year old. No, I’m not talking about the “dear god it’s Margret, can you hear me” changes. I’m talking about the depression that hits earlier than your peers get hit with it. I can’t even fathom how I kept any of my friends around. I had good grades, but no good relationships with people. It’s like my peers were finally understanding my social skills and patterns…I just couldn’t relate to them and they couldn’t relate to me. At least that’s the way I was beginning to see it and feel it.

Indifferent from everyone I encountered that thought on a daily bases. I never expressed my true feelings because if I did, they’d get shot down. Imagine, anyone you know close to you in your life just doesn’t register with you anymore. Like you developed your own language while growing up or just over the summer and people just didn’t understand what you were trying to tell them.

Well that’s not what it was like with Jacob. I could just tell from that day in January in the Olsen’s kitchen with the snow reflecting the sun making the perfect light for anyone to see through the specter that covered Jacobs multi colored eyes. His hair was so matte and dark. Skin so transparent in the sun that you could see his blue veins. That was him that was Jacob, his eyes just told you he was lost. And anyone could have said his looks were short of average, but I just could have said you weren’t me.

"Eight" Jacob had his final count of pairs for go fish. Eight. It was the first word I heard him say.

Jacob was in Mandy’s grade (Mandy Olsen who’s kitchen we were in) he had turned fifteen just that past October. That’s what Mandy and her brother Tim who was one grade older than I, had explained. Looking back on it now, Mandy and Tim’s faces, I think they knew. I think they knew there was something brewing while I stared out back seat window as their older brother Kevin drove us home, listening to them list the facts about Jacob Edren Young.

I never got the motto “home is where the heart is” not until Jacob said he trusted me completely and I knew I trusted him. Not since the day he left have I been able to find someone to trust as much as him. Really, I think it’s because he pulled the rug out from under me. Some people tell me that happens a lot in life… But I still would have liked a verbal warning. You know, just because it’s easier when you brace yourself.

[theavidpatient]

This is a poem I wrote

[theavidpatient]

Another poem I love that I wrote…I’m so narcissistic :/

[thechroniclesofpatience]

A day of lines between us (unedited)

At the north end of the school building near the sport fields is where they were meeting. Amanda was across the street technically off school campus, dragging from a cigarette. The rain had stopped, but the tires on the passing cars made that strange ripping noise they do when the asphalt is soaked. Silo made her way across the street towards her. Nervous Silo let out a hello and Amanda asked if she would like to come along over to her house. Silo said yes and they turned in an even break for East.  Why have we not said a word to each other since we left the school? Am I supposed to talk? Is she okay with the silence? Silo repeated in her mind.Breathing uneasy building up enough courage to take a breath before she meant to stutter out some words ,but she never did. Amanda looked at Silo and finished her cigarette.  It started to drizzle when they both got to Amanda's street and the smell of petrichor filled the noses of the girls. When they started to cut into the lawns and cross the the sidewalks Silo stared at the house with intent to remember every detail for this would be the first time Silo will develop a memory of Amanda's home. The house smelled of books and dewy fresh air from the open windows. The porch converted into a front room with flat carpeting and a desk for a computer where it met a small living room filled with dark wood and one window. A kitchen followed soon after with black and white tiled floors and burnt red walls where Amanda started a tea kettle on the stove. Silo watched Amanda turn back to her suggesting for drinking tea. They both agreed on peppermint poured the hot water into cups and left the kitchen for Amanda's room. A journey up the tight stairwell into a tiny hall with enough space for four doors. One door to Amanda's room, one to her brothers room, one for the bathroom and one for a petite linen closet. The picture window across from the landing bringing light upon it seemed to make it bigger than what the landing really was. Amanda kept telling Silo about her day and trying to bring on casual conversations, but Silo cannot confidently interact through the hesitation. There was a fear of where this might go... this conversation. Can I get deep with someone. How well will they relate with what I am telling them. It spun around in her head while she listened to Amanda go on about Joey Ramone and the reason why she believed in Judaism more than what her Christian up bring brought on. Something about that if Christ truly existed then there would be peace on the planet and Silo felt the defense come up. That was a subject she did not know of. Religion. Then somehow with in the hour of them talking they both deeply got into mentioning bands they both listen to and passionately sharing the personal meaning of a few songs. Amanda asked Silo if she listened to Death Cab and Silo rattled her head no with wide eyes. Is that bad? Should I know who they are? Will she think I am stupid for that not knowing?

Amanda laughed a little and suggested that they listen to them. She reached over Silo and opened up a low sitting cabinet made of shiny heavy wood stained brown and was of a marbled lighter brown. She pulled out a few CD albums and began to put them one by one. The brightness of outside only lit up the center of her room making anything near or on the walls appear in shadows of sorts. A start of organs fled through the speakers and a voice began to sing. The voice was calming and poured into Silo a feeling of plasticity making her shoulders relax. More than that helped lay on the floor letting her eyes explore Amanda's room. On the walls were prints of pictures that were prints from a disposable camera. Pictures filled with smiling faces and sometimes Amanda herself others were of places and statues. Silo felt Amanda lay down beside her on the floor. Tensing up her muscles to remain small and out of Amanda's personal space while looking at her as Amanda smiled. Folded arm over Amanda's body and one above her head she then closed her eyes and let "line of Best fit" play on covering her and covering Silo with a blanket of serenity. For now Silo met someone. Yet, she could not help, bu think of what could potentially happen. Silo had no reason not to trust Amanda, but we all know what happens when we trust people... ...we become vulnerable. 

[thechroniclesofpatience]

Magic (unedited)

She saw him; there was no doubt about it. Through the bus windows with one hand hanging on to the grab bar staring off at the motel, but in the corner of her eye invading her peripheral there he was. He cut the corner around the bus shelter. Shirtless and barefoot Joe followed the bus with every intent to keep up, but then he just let go and stopped in his tracks. Then right there when he stopped Silo’s breath began to falter. She remained to keep a portion of the failing composure on the outside looking stern and rigid until Joe was out of sight. With the bus turning down a new block and the corner hiding the view of the motel and Joe it was a signal to let the flood gates open. The breath she took in could be best described as when one takes their last available breath right before they struggle with drowning. Throughout the journey Silo took to get away from Joe she could feel the waves of regret and exasperation washing over her from time to time. She then could only panic over if she was doing the right thing for him and for her world as well as the Universe. Was it right for me? Silo thought. And it was then for the first time when she started to think about herself in this whole situation. A real struggle with putting other’s feelings first she almost had forgotten to think about herself. That was the reason of running from Joe in the first place, wasn’t it? 

It began to get dark in the world for Silo.

Not just the sun sinking below the horizon drawn by the ocean behind this drowning child.  There was some abyss creating a fist weighing her chest so she could do nothing, but to decline within the depths of the very thought in Silo’s mind of what it meant to be selfish with any good intent.  It was morbidly spectacular the way she descended from us.

A trick never meant for any of us to figure out.  Like magic

[thechroniclesofpatience]

I have so much trouble in the month of May.

It is a weird thing to say, but all the bad things that are the most memorable that have stuck with me for the rest of my life happened in the month of May. I have tried to renew my life with May and make new memories of a certain day, but new bad shit keeps coming up and only in May. These are not those stupid seasonal changes such as the weather or some series of storms or school ending. It is the change of losing a loved one, it is a change of getting into the worst situation of your life, it is watching your friend get crumpled in the car seat that is in front of you or hurting yourself so badly you would never think you could come back from that. The gentle waves of years that try and erode the blockage May built up to be the most pivotal moments in my life. Mostly I think the Universe could be telling me something or it could be a giant coincidence. I have rarely spoken about the horrors of May for me. I do keep myself like recluse all huddled away from the suns beams and the sometimes glorious blue skies of May. The weather may be warm or the holiday about to begin, but the dark memories that lie beneath that placid mind I keep arise from their dormant state. The worst memory of all could never hold a candle to what years follow had to offer. Jacob was the worst May memory and only a few people I thought I trusted know about that day.

I thank my friends at the time they were my friends for trying to re-make that certain day into a new memory. I remember that I had forgotten what that day meant to me- just for that day. The 24th. A shudder falls down my spine and I am back in the house where the sun came in from the East at ten in the morning. I remember the color of the carpet as the ringing of the phone echoed throughout the house aching to bring the worst news that effected more lives than the one taken from the world that day.

I digress. I have to move on. I can make it through these four weeks out of the 52. I will not let the next four weeks effect me for the rest of them or for the rest of my life. Letting go and letting life handle it. Those kinds of memories are okay to cradle for a little while, but I have to let them be after the tiny mourning they deserve. Because I chose to continue with my life when pain knocks me back a couple of steps. Because May is just 31 days, it's only a month out of 12 and four weeks out of 52... I can conquer the rest of the 8,035 hours in a year why are these 785 so hard.

[thechroniclesofpatience]

A confession:

 I know! I remember them! I miss them so bad! I let my (then)friend Hayley use them because she was too poor to buy her own glasses and she never gave them back. BIIIIITTCCH.

I keep being reminded of how much your view is askew. 

[thechroniclesofpatience]

It’s crawling through my veins And you close your eyes and you twist your smile ‘Cause you can feel my pain

"Set me free" Charli XCX

[thechroniclesofpatience]

7/ 7/ 2002 (unedited)

There has been these thoughts in my head that I have always wanted to say, but I continue to never say anything about them. These thoughts will morph into words and rise up through my stomach, filling and expanding my throat. No matter how hard I try to keep all the words in I still end up having the urge to release it all. I bite down as hard as I can until I feel my tongue bleed in. This involuntary contraction starts up and so begins the battle of contortions and suffering of keeping secrets and lies. An agonizing burn opens my mouth and I wish I could say it is this beautiful explosion of truth and beauty that comes from within, it's just not. It's ugly. A sliver starts its way to unsuccessfully prying through my lips. I pinch my them  between the front teeth yet somehow with tears this struggle seems ineffect and a slow pour of black sludge drips out as if it was molasses in the summer heat. Never stopping until the definition of what I wanted to keep a secret finally makes a bay. It's out and my eyes will be wide with horror and regret. "It was against my will" I shout and I shout and I shout... I can shout some more reparations for my offense; my crime. New thoughts roll up in my head oh just an echo of storm clouds of what had just finished up. A never ending cycle. Here I start again resisting and wrestling this urge to apologize for never showing anyone how I feel. Here's to burying myself away from the world repeatedly.    

[thechroniclesofpatience]

Feb. 17th, 2014 Letter to Max

Hey Max, Senses Fail came on followed by Alkaline and then followed that by playing Skylit Drive, which lead me to writing you. I know, I know it's stupid and I fear that writing this letter to you would just doom the fears and anxiety of third parties. Yet, it's an endearing strange nostalgia that has come over me.

It's strange, I love them dearly and I never thought I'd say anything of the sort. I know for certain. Before you trail off to wonder why I am telling you this, is not to rub your nose in it. I wanted to examine in a way my life from the falling point from you to now. It's been a harsh climb with a few added tumbles, but in all sincerity I embrace what we were. When I met them, Sam and things were stable long into the relationship, I freaked. It was weird not having any bad happening or some suspicions of monogamy failure. I felt strange and surreal in my own life. My relationships with others started to improve and I lessened the unwanted filth out of my life. I feel clean and whole. Trust me, it's no savior- but an embrace on my life with the gratitude I am feeling.

I am not at all saying you were directly to blame for the way that I felt about myself and my situation. Because in fact "happiness is not what others do or say or what happens around us, but that happiness is being at peace with oneself". Which is true. I was not at peace nor happy with who I was when we knew each other. I wondered if you were in the same place? In a way I think you were just fooling yourself into being okay with who you were, but I cannot know for sure. An affair that I had with you, will never be like any other that I have had. It was fun and treacherous, something harming, but yet beautiful. I liked the ending a slow soft settle fade out into the great abyss for me. I am unsure where you went, but I hope you had some happiness there.

Last time we spoke it wasn't good. Or well from the way that  I viewed it. I may have said something that hurt your feelings. It came out wrong and I would like to explain. Without too much detail I understood your infliction; a pain or no pain, but it was still there like an unknown sliver in the skin. I feel like I pointed it out and ripped it out perhaps. With no known permission I gave you advice and I shouldn't have. Dear, if I would have just physically stuck my foot in my mouth I think it would have gone a whole lot better than what came out of it. I hope you took that advice as 'she's just being kind' instead of me trying to control you or taking revenge on you. I only wanted what was best for you. I did however still believe that maybe my advice could have been taken, but in a way to cleanse the soul, the mind and the whole situation that happened starting with us, ending with the other person and continuing on to moving on in your life.

Our lives are separate now and I see that. If ever try and make small talk with you, it is not to 'booty call you', but to let you know you happen to cross my mind every now and again. I wish to have a day with you again like the one at the theater out by your work. That was lovely. I still owe you for the movie. Thanks, it was a great time. Out by the pond while we sat and talked it felt as surreal as it did with my current lovers relationship. Could I really be in such a good place with anyone, let alone myself. Through my way to recovery, I hope I have helped you on the way to yours. I hope you feel that you're there in recovery. If not, I am here.  This surreal feeling has gone away. I am just accepting things as they are. I'm not trying to change them, especially the aspects that I cannot control. However, I am scared to embrace the future changes that are being arranged and discussed between my current lover and myself. The current currant is carrying me away to a place unknown. So, I reach in my past to measure and reflect on how much I have grown. With that I wanted to thank you for being a friend when you were. I hope we still are. I apologize for my advice that was entirely not needed.  Here's to our past, present and future Max.

Max, I hope this isn't the last letter, but I feel that it just may be. <3 Theavidpatient

[thechroniclesofpatience]

The present time of Silo

Pieces of the past collect in my head sometimes. They may have fallen on a page or two or more. Some lie stuck up in my mind swirling and bouncing around. Sometimes mushing together like the goop found in lava lamps. Some make it to these subconscious story-tellings of my mind. These dreams are so grand and influential they’re all I can think about for days. They’ll cycle out into new ideas. Then there is the one idea I can’t get rid of. The one idea that just won’t be shut out or forgotten about. This idea repeatedly effects my dreams. It sits and brews, bubbling over my emotions and toys with my focus. It feels like an infected pore, sore and swollen. It’s protrusion so bothersome it seems like there is no end in sight! My idea is a love I have never experienced, nor thought to give a chance to. How cliche’, but this idea of loving or having the ability to love this one person makes me want to run out of town and never look back. Even when I had loved another I would have epic dreams of this particular person. All that could be done for them is to sit and wait out to make the point to my subconscious that it won’t ever be done. This person and I our love just will never exist. I’d try to fill my head up with ideas that I would deem better to focus on other than love. Traveling the world, writing, my education and making my mark. Something much better than the idea of us two falling in love. Although I have been taught that falling in love is the one true ultimate rebellion, I couldn’t see it that way at all. 

That is what hurt the universe so much it tore itself apart. To see such a young rioter to not rebel broke the universe.Just think of earthquakes on distant planets with life on them. Or tares and rips in space and time, our universe breaking apart. And yes, over love. Odd thing is, how do I explain our universe as a living being to someone. It’s sort of like a god, but not a him and not her. Just sort of a being that just is and yes has feelings. I felt a bit Truman show-ish when I found out that I was being watched by the entire universe, I suddenly felt like there was no place for me to hide my feelings or what I did in the shower and stuff like that. Yet, I had to realize that I too was the universe and whenever I hurt badly the universe hurt just as bad or worse. Worse upon the idea that it’s created being was suffering. I was suffering. I was smothering away a feeling, something that I apparently had felt so strongly about that I gave out ripples of this emotion to the universe which in return felt them ten times stronger than I was letting myself feel. So, yes the universe started to break. I feel somewhat- responsible. Yet, I was told it was not all my fault. That it was society that on my planet that was making me self conscious about my feelings. 

When I had learned that love was the ultimate rebellion it was much too late to sway me. I had seen what love does to you in a bourgeois society. You’re expected to do certain things like have children, stop your career as a woman and be Betty Fucking Homemaker. Not what I had initially planned for myself here on planet Earth. I wanted to spend some time in countries I have never been in, seen in magazines or meet people I’ve never heard of. I wanted to write and be profound trail blazer to someone… didn’t matter to whom just to someone. Love seemed to me to be something that could get in my way to muddle things up. But, I didn’t want to be the person who never fell in love, never loved or was never loved. Love was something you should experience, not let it change you? I was confused to say the least and you could say up to this point because I have let go of a love that my mind has been obsessing over- that I have never experienced my one true love…right?  Well my dreams lead a friend to me, they are sort of what most humans call ‘Angels’, but what the universe could only send out to guide me amongst my confusion. Angel no, powerful being…sort of? Jose’ explained himself to me like this: ‘I am sort of an alien- you humans if you saw my true form would just freak out entirely and call those people in New Mexico’. So, yes alien no angel. ‘I just come to you in this human like form for protection for the both of us’. There was some getting used to all of this whole other realms of beings and things. I still cannot get over that I have the whole entire universe up in flames over a love. Over my love. Fucking freaks me out. 

There are planets and races of beings that hate me. These beings plan to use my emotions to control when and where the effect took place. That’s why Jose’ came with Azrael for protection and basically get us on with the whole in search for I guess ‘the love of my life’. Yeah, please… big eye roll here. Jose’ has become a great friend helping me talk through all these monstrous changes. It’s scary being a sort of refugee and being constantly pressured to like or love someone now…  But, how can I make them all understand? How can I let them know how much pressure I feel to love someone? Don’t they get it? It’s like this: I understand that if I love this person that I have been literally dreaming about the universe would be able to repair itself. Yet, what if it turns out I can’t love them or they can’t love me? The universe would know right? It knows what I’m feeling. I can’t fake true love. I cannot fake the emotions. There is this ripple we all send all through out the whole entire universe. On top of everything else with being attacked from all angles and there are powerful beings that want to tear this potential lover and I apart…How am I supposed to be in love with so much more going on?

[thechroniclesofpatience]

Started a writing prompt and just flew from there.

“Why are you leaving” he said in a sleepy voice. Silo bit her lip cursing in her head that he was awake. It was unplanned, but she had to roll with it much like everything else going on in her life now. A million answers to Joe's questions went flying through her head, but couldn't suck up the courage to say any of them. So, she didn't and she just opened the door to the hotel room and shut the door behind her.

[thechroniclesofpatience]

the guilty.

Often I have thought of love. If not often than more than enough for my mind. Once in a complex range of thoughts, I cannot decide where to move to next. So, thoughts all happen at once and a beautiful day dream emerges. This day dream produces slow like that of a rising sun peaking from behind the tips of the tree lines in a Minnesota morning. It'll shine bright letting it's light radiate warmth for intense rush of heat. Or it'll lull above the timbers lingering throughout the day. It's constant stance on length and time it chooses to stay brings the longing and yearning. Sometimes I miss the day dreams that flash while I pass the spaces in between. Other times I wish to just turn over to ignore it's permanent messages to me. The times when the day dream of a love comes across my mind when I feel the urges of nostalgia and maybe longing. Some cause me to blurt out a bit of laughter where others provoke my body to hide my face into pillows for a few moments. I can forget that they're just my imagination and sometimes these day dreams are a waste of just that creativity. 

Other times these day dreams of love are about you... and sometimes I cannot help, but believe if they'll come true some day. When I was younger and heard 'may your dreams come true', I immediately thought of sleeping and dreams. Yet, I just finally found the key of day dreaming and hope. Making your dreams come true sounds like a fantasy. Yet, why is that a bad thing? Why are my fantasies supposed to be swept away into a dust pan? 

For years I have tried relentlessly pushing away my day dreams of us. I've tried settling down with someone else. I was happy for a few years under the spell of lovers. Yet, somehow you always shown through- disrupting the trance that I was under. A light emerging from the timbers of the skyline. Capturing my attention and it all seems to be, real. Is it real? How is it that I can be so close to you, feel like we're close to making the universe happy. Then the next moment I'm far away and uncertain of everything between you and I? I would just like for someone to finally tell me what I should do. I want a definite answer of what I should do. I want to know if you remembered. I want to know if you know.

It's us. Isn't it? It's you and I, right? Or is it something creative my subconscious pushes on me? 

[thechroniclesofpatience]

Rudeness is just a weak person's imitation of strength. It is wrong, but help them realize their confidence in themselves doesn't mean to berate others on other's life choices or pleasures. Help these weak people know that true strength is to see each individual as an equal. Accepting their weakness is a start of a beautiful strength. When someone pisses you off for doing something rude... if you have a chance tell them this "I love you." It'll help you stay cool, calm and collected. Remember then; 'people, places and things are best left the way they are, because you cannot change them'. You can change how you react. You may change how you think about a particular person. You can choose to walk away and you can choose to let it go. Let that person's rudeness go and just continue about your day like it never happened. Because you love yourself for who you are and that person cannot change you no matter what they say. It's YOUR reactions and actions that get you to the place you're at. I'm not saying their rudeness is right, but I'm damn well saying it's not worth dwelling over or exploding over. I love you all, I hope you are all well. 'May your choices reflect your hope and not your fears' -Nelson Mendela

My fucking self.