We all searched for paradise. We all followed the path we thought would take us there. All our paths were so different, but we were determined that our way was the right way, and screw everyone else.
We all participated in our own little rat race. Who could reach Paradise first. Who could claim it for their own. Who would hold the bragging rights.
And in the end, we all lost Paradise.
I don't know if we found it, or if we never even made it there. All I know is that everything crumbled in our hands, and now we're trying to make something out of this suddenly-nothing.
I don't exactly know what I have right now, or where I'm going. I don't know if I'm still foolishly looking for Paradise still, or if I'm just looking for another place to run. I don't know much.
I just know, or think I know, that I have some kind of happiness in me. Some kind of calmness. I still have anger and sadness, but I'm okay. I'm still working out things, and I'm still figuring out trusting, but... I guess the big point about this is that I'm Okay.
I don't know anything about Paradise anymore, but I'm okay.
Of Remembering When
All my texts and all my emails to you start with the words "Do you remember..."
Because I don't see a future in us.
Because all I have of you is the past and the memories that go with.
Because I need to make sense of the past, and everything that was said and was done in it to decide whether I can forgive you, even if I will never see you again.
I need to know in my heart whether to lock you in a box and throw it to the depths of the ocean, or to just put it away at the top shelf of my closet, behind the Porcelain dolls that share and keep my secrets.
Because I don't see a future in us.
Because all I have of you is the past and the memories that go with.
Because I need to make sense of the past, and everything that was said and was done in it to decide whether I can forgive you, even if I will never see you again.
I need to know in my heart whether to lock you in a box and throw it to the depths of the ocean, or to just put it away at the top shelf of my closet, behind the Porcelain dolls that share and keep my secrets.
Of Baking Cakes on a Moment's Notice
I can't make cakes on a moment's notice.
I mean, you could tell me to make you a cake the day before and I could probably do it (24h), but that's a lot of work and I'd be up all night doing it.
But when I've got work all weekend, and I'm out a lot of the day Friday, and you want me to make a cake I've never made from scratch and you tell me four days in advance, at midnight?
Yeah, a little hard to do.
I can do it. I just will hate you for a while.
Furthermore, if you don't respond to my messages for hours in between, even less time.
Some people are just lucky they're family.
I mean, you could tell me to make you a cake the day before and I could probably do it (24h), but that's a lot of work and I'd be up all night doing it.
But when I've got work all weekend, and I'm out a lot of the day Friday, and you want me to make a cake I've never made from scratch and you tell me four days in advance, at midnight?
Yeah, a little hard to do.
I can do it. I just will hate you for a while.
Furthermore, if you don't respond to my messages for hours in between, even less time.
Some people are just lucky they're family.
Of Secrets in the Dark
And sometimes you don't need the dark basement and the breathing bodies close. You don't need the glowing clock of three AM. You don't have to have the whispering and the quiet confessions. You don't need the hands reaching out in the dark to grasp hold of.
Sometimes, having a distant connection through MSN, a phone call, a text message, is all you need for one of those moments to happen.
Sometimes, having a distant connection through MSN, a phone call, a text message, is all you need for one of those moments to happen.
Of Weather that Surrounds You
My favorite kind of weather has to be something like;
Right before a huge, powerful thunderstorm, when you can see the dark clouds and you can feel the pressure build, and the heat and humidity is there. And you're standing and you're waiting and the anticipation and power is zipping through the air. Or you're on a bike and you're gliding down the street and there's a few drops on the ground and on your skin, but it's not even the beginning, it's like the drops just make everything build even more. It's silent and calm, every living thing can feel the storm coming, and then the thunder sounds, and soon you know it will break open the entire sky.
Or it's drizzling very lightly. And there's fog everywhere. Or should I say that the other way around? And it's cool, and you can feel every miniscule droplet on your skin, and it slowly weighs your hair down but not too much. And it feels as if you're alone in some other world, and you're not worried because it's perfect. Anything can be anything, and you too can be anything. And it's so silent that you might be the only person there.
Or it's an early-autumn day, and it's drizzling heavily, not quite rain, and the air is cool to the touch and the droplets aren't any warmer, and you're running around getting all sweaty and mucky, and you've got to ditch the coat you put on before you came out, because you're not the least bit cold inside. The outside of you is cold to the touch- your skin is like ice, but there's a fire inside you and the rain hits you and cools in trickles, but is no match for the heat inside you. And if you stop for too long, you go from hot to unbearably hot to cool, and you never want to be contained within walls ever again.
Or it's right after a huge snow storm, and the side walks are piled with snow on either side, and there's snow falling lightly around you, and it might be a little too warm in your winter coat, and the whole world around you is silent. Even the busiest of streets is somehow muted by the snow scattered around everywhere. Your hair sticks to your face from the snow, and it's nice for once, even though you sometimes (frequently) swear you hate the stuff. It's times like these that make you remember just why you put up with winter in the first place, and that it might not all be about the summer that eventually comes when all this white stuff is gone. And it's times like these you'll remember all year round, and maybe in the confines of your mind you might wish for winter to come quicker, just for another one of these.
Right before a huge, powerful thunderstorm, when you can see the dark clouds and you can feel the pressure build, and the heat and humidity is there. And you're standing and you're waiting and the anticipation and power is zipping through the air. Or you're on a bike and you're gliding down the street and there's a few drops on the ground and on your skin, but it's not even the beginning, it's like the drops just make everything build even more. It's silent and calm, every living thing can feel the storm coming, and then the thunder sounds, and soon you know it will break open the entire sky.
Or it's drizzling very lightly. And there's fog everywhere. Or should I say that the other way around? And it's cool, and you can feel every miniscule droplet on your skin, and it slowly weighs your hair down but not too much. And it feels as if you're alone in some other world, and you're not worried because it's perfect. Anything can be anything, and you too can be anything. And it's so silent that you might be the only person there.
Or it's an early-autumn day, and it's drizzling heavily, not quite rain, and the air is cool to the touch and the droplets aren't any warmer, and you're running around getting all sweaty and mucky, and you've got to ditch the coat you put on before you came out, because you're not the least bit cold inside. The outside of you is cold to the touch- your skin is like ice, but there's a fire inside you and the rain hits you and cools in trickles, but is no match for the heat inside you. And if you stop for too long, you go from hot to unbearably hot to cool, and you never want to be contained within walls ever again.
Or it's right after a huge snow storm, and the side walks are piled with snow on either side, and there's snow falling lightly around you, and it might be a little too warm in your winter coat, and the whole world around you is silent. Even the busiest of streets is somehow muted by the snow scattered around everywhere. Your hair sticks to your face from the snow, and it's nice for once, even though you sometimes (frequently) swear you hate the stuff. It's times like these that make you remember just why you put up with winter in the first place, and that it might not all be about the summer that eventually comes when all this white stuff is gone. And it's times like these you'll remember all year round, and maybe in the confines of your mind you might wish for winter to come quicker, just for another one of these.
Of Playing with Fire
I play with fire, happily.
You know I'm back up on my game when I start playing with fire, and a lot of it in one day.
Fire is my element. I'm comfortable and thrilled by it.
You know I'm back up on my game when I start playing with fire, and a lot of it in one day.
Fire is my element. I'm comfortable and thrilled by it.
Of Friends Lists
I've been clearing out my contacts on various things (MSN, etc.) recently, deleting a lot more people than I have ever done at one time.
Why?
Because unlike some I know, I don't keep people for just their contact, or to reach a number or whatever. If I've got a list titled "Friends" I attempt to keep it limited to people that are, indeed, considered my friends.
And, as I've explained to one of my friends, I've spent my whole life unknowingly afraid of breaking off friendships that were harmful to me, and keeping friends with people who constantly hurt me, and I shan't do it any longer.
And someone who does not ask me for my story, and instead believes blatant lies of those who would only like to hurt me, and then avoids me at all costs because of such rumors, does not deserve to be called "friend." And I hope that one day they really mess up, or have it done to them so that maybe, just maybe, they'll learn.
Probably not going to happen, but a girl can (and this girl will) dream.
Why?
Because unlike some I know, I don't keep people for just their contact, or to reach a number or whatever. If I've got a list titled "Friends" I attempt to keep it limited to people that are, indeed, considered my friends.
And, as I've explained to one of my friends, I've spent my whole life unknowingly afraid of breaking off friendships that were harmful to me, and keeping friends with people who constantly hurt me, and I shan't do it any longer.
And someone who does not ask me for my story, and instead believes blatant lies of those who would only like to hurt me, and then avoids me at all costs because of such rumors, does not deserve to be called "friend." And I hope that one day they really mess up, or have it done to them so that maybe, just maybe, they'll learn.
Probably not going to happen, but a girl can (and this girl will) dream.
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