nihly

I write alot. Sometimes they're just phrases on scraps of paper that come to my head, and I find whatever is around to write it down before it's forgotten. And sometimes they stay phrases til I find the appropriate time and place for them. And some poems never get shaped into anything all that coherent beyond ramblings.

But this furvorous writing, I don't know why it is so important to me. Well, I do but... it's like I really am trying to record everything. To gather up all my little pieces, the scraps of paper that are me and my thoughts, experiences, stories. It is my story of me. But does anyone want to read it?

I will assemble them somehow. But my scrapbook sits around waiting, because it is such alot of work and I like to do the pages when there is definite closure on something. So I can't miss anything. Each page looks neat and completed fully. And right now there's closure on nothing. Everything is continuing on, as it should. And I am glad with that, but at times it makes me panic just in case it never gets done...

I feel lost. I feel lonely. My best friends are far away, in physical distance and mentally. I dont talk to them enough, I don't feel their day to day support and it's really hard, I'm realizing. There is this hole that can't be filled by other people, no matter how I try or how kind they are, the amount of time I spend with them, no matter how inspiring...certain people can't be replaced. Not my best friends. And they aren't here when I need them.

I am sad because I look for other ways to find those connections. And they aren't positive ways. I feel sad that I am writing out these things, which seem so very important to me, because they are the story of my life and that I am doing it so I can put everything about me together so it's all in one place, tie it up with a bow, and leave it behind for my family in case anything ever happens. So they'd know me.

Some people think that's morbid. But I feel the greatest ugrency to do it all at once. There's no one else to talk to who "gets" me, without a vested interest besides listening. I talked to Crush, and he explained he's more like a proactive type of support for me, he'd rather take me out and try to do nice things for me to get me out of my moods and keep me from dwelling. He just wants to keep me smiling. I told him I can't smile all the time.

But that's a cop out from really listening to what's going on with me. And what's bothering me in the first place. It's horrible to feel like your feelings are ignored, even if under the best intentions. I have nowhere to go to find someone to trust who listens, and so I just keep writing and writing and writing...It is not wallowing in my moods to just think things over. I am not a fan of keeping so busy I can't think of anything. I just see that as running away, and you can't run from yourself. You'll always catch up to you. haha

So I write out the bad and the good so I don't run away from myself and someday someone will read/see it all and I'll finally be understood. Even if I'm no longer around, maybe that's all I'm wishing for. Maybe I am realizing my best friends are slipping away and I have this void...I don't like to be lonely. Who does? I have so much to give, to the world, to somebody. But, just help me please. I can't do all this fixing on my own all the time. It makes me tired and then I don't want to think and I go places and do things to force myself to stop. it's just not right.

The world in my head is so confusing sometimes. I'm just puzzling it out here, again, in writing. It's nothing serious, I think. I just can't get a hold of people today and don't know what to do with myself or where to begin, because there are mountains of things to do and really I can do anything. And somehow, that scares me. Sometimes, into doing nothing at all.

That's it I guess.

Thank you Curses for your poetry. It's beautiful. Perhaps you have discovered how theraputic it can be? Is that even the right word? Anyways. I'm happy you felt ok with sharing. I know things are hard for you, and I wish you well too. There is nothing wrong with how you chose to live you life, with authenticity. Walking around being fake and keeping up witht he jones at the heart of it, makes nobody happy either, in the end. May as well be just as unhappy/happy being yourself. It's a mixed blessing.