flickr

support my photography please?

My Flickr

I put my heart into just like these words.

show time

Everything is dark but the stage and the sea of cell phones and cameras. A forest of hands and arms sways above my head and I am nothing. I am a part of the screaming vocals. My heartbeat is this bass line. I’m breaking down to something purer. I’m jumping and screaming and the mosh pit welcomes me and now, now I’m a tornado, a physical release of sound, slamming and shoving and yes, this is freedom, this is relief. I’m losing control, I’m losing my mind and nothing is more beautiful to me. I’m thrashing, I’m wild, and I don’t know anything but being shoved from all sides, flying across the dance floor because I’m too little to be doing this but I don’t give a fuck.

This is such freedom.

college is beautiful

these people, these friends are beautiful. I love them so dearly. they take my dull life and brighten it with their own. I’m never at home, never sleeping in my own bed and I love that too. we take care of each other. we all wake up together – people in beds, on the couch, and on the floor – and we start our days together. we all cook and clean and take care of each other and do what needs to be done. I just need people around me. to care for and to pick up after and yes, to love. this is a big, bad world and we need to hang on to the people we find.

and to find some is  a blessing. we keep up our work but we party harder and there’s a new adventure every damn day. I don’t drink because I have to, I drink because I want to. because I loosen up like I should in the first place and I make the moves and say the things I should have the courage to say. it makes me feel free and don’t you dare bring me down because of that. we all flirt and we all dance and we all laugh so hard. we are beautiful and young and wild and I don’t ever want to be anything different.

They’ll Never Remember

One of my favorite things is when one of my friends or whatever calls me at midnight or 3AM or some late hour to go out to Mel’s or to chill or to Safeway or whatever. I don’t know why, I just love the night. I love being out in the night. I love driving around or walking around and buying too much food and going to the 24hr Starbuck’s in Dixon. I just want to be out every night. Doing almost anything.

I get lonely at night, even if I have no one to miss. It’s a strange feeling. But I just…I don’t know. I don’t know what I want or what I’m looking for. Sometimes I feel like I just want everything and nothing all at once. Don’t read this it’s a waste of your time and it doesn’t make sense. And neither do I.

There’s only a handful of people I can spend 24/7 with and never be tired of them and I wish they were with me always. And we wouldn’t always have to interact. It would be enough just to know we were together. I just get lost and sometimes people help me find myself.

Funny thing is, some of my favorite people are people I’ve only met once. Or friends of a friend. And they probably never think of me. Most of them probably don’t even remember me. But I remember them. And I wish I knew them better, but you know how that is. It’s just awkward and I just wish it wasn’t, wish it wasn’t strange to call up a person you barely know or send them a message and just hang out or talk. Because I meet so many interesting and beautiful people in my life that I don’t get a chance to truly know and it kills me.

Know this. For all I do and say, I am at heart far, far too sensitive and full of only Love. I get hurt too easily and trust me I’ll never let you know. I give what I can to who I can when I sense they need it. I trust my feelings and have yet to be wrong. And if you gain my love, I will do so very much for you.

In short, if this was tl;dr, I am a typical teenage girl. I’m just like everyone else right? Yeah I know. But I will fucking kill you if you tell me so. Leave me with my delusions and I’ll leave you with yours.

I can’t like you this much

The more I find out about you, the more you should repel me, but it doesn’t work. Instead I grow ever more fascinated with you, even though you have so little that is redeeming. No class, no tact, no sensitivity, yet I still like you so much. Why? I don’t understand. Why can your mere smirk bring me to my knees? Your lips wipe all though from my mind? You don’t care, at least that’s what your actions say, but I can’t help wanting you to.

I want you to care. I suspect such a wonderful man under all that bullshit you do and say. I hear your voice is good and for some reason I can sense sweetness somewhere within you.

May I bring it out? Please? Even just for a while. I need to know it’s real.

why do I even answer your calls?

I do know why. It’s because you are beautiful first off, yes physically but I believe there’s more to you. I was madly, madly attracted to you since the first day I saw you. And yes, maybe it’s pathetic, but I do remember the very first day I saw you. First day of high school, freshman year. My best friend and I boarded the bus, took seats next to each other, and looked up. The back of your head alone was breathaking. We giggled and followed you off like little girls. Our grade and with a bitch girlfriend, go figure.

I answer because you make me feel fuckable, sexy, alluring – which isn’t as wonderful as beautiful, but it’s better than being alone and being unwanted. They can call me names all they want, but I get to kiss your heart-stopping lips, taste your skin, and make you smirk in that way. I answer because you are the only excitement in my dull life right now, because I need a man even if I’m nothing to him. Sad, sad, sad, but I don’t care. I can make it special for me, even if it’s not for you.

People don’t seem to understand. The only person that can us happy is ourselves. That is it. So I will take my beautiful moments from the time we spend together even if you will never remember them. The same moment can mean two different things to two different people, and there’s nothing wrong with that. As long as they know.

And I know. I know that you could probably care less about me. But that’s ok.

Although, you like to keep me guessing don’t you? I suppose that’s the other reason I answer you. Because your reputation precedes you, because you only call me about once a month when you need a fix of me, because for all I know you could have 3 other girls besides – but when I’m with you sometimes, you kiss my forehead, my cheeks, my nose. You hold my hand. Draw me back in for a last hug and kiss before I leave. And no, not always, but sometimes, sometimes you do. And it kills me because you don’t care, you don’t care, but maybe you do and I can’t tell. And I know, I know I’m probably lying to myself. But maybe imagined caring is better than none at all.

I’d like to ask you, but whenever I see you, you simply blow me away. I am speechless, stunned by your sheer physical beauty, by the rich deep sound of your voice. By your perfect smirking smile and just barely crooked front teeth.

I don’t know. But I know I won’t stop.

I just wish I had someone to hold.

times like this.

to tell me it’s ok.

I jsut want to be held.

More than anything.

This. is. so. stupid.

I know nothing. Sometimes I feel like I have never known anything at all.

Am currently confused

Why am I getting hits from Facebook??

you write such pretty words…but life’s no storybook. love’s an excuse to get hurt.

I keep wanting to be different but I’m really starting wonder if we’re all just the same. I’m just another girl with a pretty face. It makes me so lonely sometimes. Wondering if I’m worth it, if I’m worth anything at all. Oh beautiful boy, you used to call me Darling. You used to call me Darling. I shared your bed and we slept beside each other that night. You turned 20. We woke up often and silently rearranged to cuddle closer together before falling back into sweet slumber. Your bare chest rising and falling against my cheek. And your arms around me. Waking up to your face and your warmth and oh. Oh, what a feeling.

This shouldn’t have to end like this. I remember it beginning. Myspace. A message. My girlish excitement and the way he gave you my number. We texted. And you invited me over. That night in the park, you gave me your jacket. It was too big and warm and smelled like you and leather and smoke and it was wonderful. And you touched my skin and we tickle fought and yes, it was happy, magical, puppy loveliful. I was giddy with so much newness and happiness and boy-ness. I just…oh you.

I don’t know what you’re afraid of. I don’t know what you’re pushing away. I just want to hold you. To make you food and pay your bills and keep you warm at night. I just want to help you find the way to be happy. To smile. To be free from this demon of depression that stalks you.

I’m the kind of girl

that if you give me a few sweet words or buy me a candy bar or sing me something or a million other tiny beautiful things -

I will give you so much.

You give me a few words – and I give you all the love and generosity of my heart.

It’s not, never has been, a conscious act.

It’s natural as breathing.

I don’t think I ever think about reciprocation on their half.

Perhaps I will forever be your one-sided love.