.echoes.

a million words flutter about my head like confused butterflies in a summery haze

2.28.2003

this is some writing from a friend of a friend that i recently stumbled across and i liked it so i thought i'd share it with you...


three hours and eight Heinekens ago


i sat down here to write something that would make him
understand the things i said, the things inside, language
that might fill in four years of unfair, unexplained, highly
predictable distance. the billions of things i wish i could
say to him tornado in my head, and yet, i am speechless.
i have no medium, just excuses. i bring myself back to a
conversation we had just yesterday about ranches and
moonlight, open roads and unmarred trails. i still lie
to him, still wear the mask of cinderella me, feigning
beauty, my laugh almost too obvious. he sends me these
notes written by the pen of a poet and i cry with the delivery
of each. maybe to feel sorry for myself for having found
serenity in the dark side. maybe because i know that while
his pen penetrates my skin, his masculinity saturates
the insides of another.

i shower for forty minutes with paint thinner and steel wool
struggling to remove the scars and the ink and the disease
that has become the only evidence of my existence. i bleed in
midnight gray, the warmth having left me many fixes ago.
i do not want him to know that i still wander unpaved streets,
that i wouldn’t mind waking up in the foothills of hell , that
when i do wake, it is next to the skeleton of the living me.
i wonder how often he reads the white space of me. i want him
to pray for me, for us. i want him to touch me gently. i can
barely remember the last time i was touched gently, the last
time i walked gracefully, danced relentlessly. i do not want him
to see the scars of disgrace that i wear on my eyelids, the bruises
of temptation upon my breast. instead, i want to airbrush myself
in his beauty and walk through a mirror straight into his arms.

-jen zamarin
i feel like i should pray, but i don't think i know how anymore, at least not in the way i used to. it seems like fear is a stride away, and gloom is about a 5 minute drive from my house. these are the two things that plague me.
you can think that you are totally removed from something, but it usually returns, or it was never really gone in the first place. i don't think this one was ever really gone, it just got far away for a while, and then came back to a place that is too close for comfort. its not that i'm detached from God or anything, i just wonder why my life has to include some of the things that it does, or why i stumbled across some of the people that i did, and i wonder why i still feel vulnerable to them as i am still within reach. -gloom is about a 5 minute drive from my house- and not many people really have any idea; in fact, i wonder if that one has any idea himself.
in any case, my close friends and family are my bomb shelter and with them, i feel safe.
but even within my proverbial bomb shelter, there are some events that can cause distress. -fear is just a stride away- i hate to see people suffering, i am afraid for them of what they might have to endure. i suppose you could say that i am one of those who would take a bullet for someone i love, without a single misgiving. i would take that radiation head on, but i cant, its not my cancer... so i just sit back and worry, wondering if theres anything at all i can do, and offer up some encouragment.

2.27.2003

alone at last.
it was the same road it alway had been, yet something felt different. perhaps it was the weight of my heart that was pulling me downward, or maybe it was the ringing of that awful six letter word in my head. the music had faded out, and i could no longer feel the warm air of the defroster blowing on my face. my mind began to wander far from my head and the road on which i traveled, yet the sense of danger due to my diverted attention never registered. i just drifted farther away. my heartbeat began to pulse heavily in my ears, and slowly morphed into yours, unnatural like the ticking of a clock, the sound that lulls you to sleep at night.
somehow i think that's what did it...
the cold metal replacing the soft muscle tissue that should be there. the same one that barely protrudes from your chest throbbing with an artificial heartbeat. now its more than just that, accompanied by the maliscious overgrowth of cells that threatens your health.
in an instant, i felt your warm smile pulling my mind out of the puddle fear that it had found. your friendly blue eyes appeared in the back of my thoughts, and i felt a familiar comfort around me, a million miles away from fakery that brought me back to where i was. the road refabricated beneath me, and heat spewed from the defroster. everything was real again, and as i wondered for a moment what had happened, my car bumped over the same railroad tracks that have always been there, shaking off any awkward sensation that remained, and i headed back home.

2.20.2003

i just want to say; life is short, live every second of it.
i was sitting in a coffee shop with my friend steve because i owed him a story (coffee shops are the best places for stories). i must admit it wasn't a very uplifting story, but i suppose it has a positive ending seeing as how our protagonist survives, so far. we don't know if there's a sequel yet. my story left me with a bitter taste in my mouth, thus i will try to rinse it out. the following will never be seen by the one it is intended for, but i'd rather it be that way...

life is precious. if you taught me nothing else, you taught me that. everyday i wake up and in the back of my lethargic mind, i am grateful because i am blessed. i have been blessed with legs that can carry the weight of my body everywhere i need to go, i can feed myself, dress myself, read, write, speak. i realize that there are some people in this world who would give anything to have what i have, to do the things i can do, every little thing that people take for granted everyday. you could never feel that. you shut yourself off from it, and chose to live in your little world where everything you see is twisted. that night you were taken away was one of the best of my life. over the year and a half you were gone, spending your time alone in a cell, wasting away like you have been since day one, i was healing. washing away the negatvity, the hopelessness, rinsing the wounds and bandaging the lacerations you left when you ripped my heart out. a year and a half later, you return but you are dead to me. i never want to feel your presence on my aura again, for as long as you are gone from me, i may live, but i always live in fear of you.

a word of advice: love your neighbor as yourself, but don't ever let them drag you down.

.smiles.

2.19.2003

dear God... is it friday yet?! maybe its just me, but this week has been draging on forever! anyway, i'm kind of excited about my new blog, and i am completely overwhelmed with a million things that i don't want to do, so i decided to continue down my usual path of procrastination and write to whatever wandering eye might be perusing my train of thought...
yesterday was pretty shitty. it started out too early, and i was running late (as usual). after suffering through the worst spanish class ever, barely scraping by on a surprise english test, sitting through my ever so annoying math class, and failing a physics test (well actually i got a 'd', but that still sucks), i was pretty worn out. i decided to take a nap before swim practice, which lasted a little longer than planned, and ended up being late to that too. it was kinda nice to blow off some steam in the water tho. anyways, after practice i went to radio shack to pick up some supplies for a project i had to do. so i was up at the counter ready to pay for the stuff i bought when i realized that i was missing $20. luckily, i managed to scrounge up just enough to get what i needed. as i was heading back out to my car, i noticed a big yellow full moon hanging low in the sky. by some astrological phenomenon, according to my mom and my grandma, i have a hard time with full moons. i get all stressed out and whatnot. i figured it was just trying to taunt me or something since nothing seemed to be going right. nevertheless, i caught something out of the corner of my eye laying in the empty parking space next to my car... $20. let me tell you, i was soaking in relief. for some reason, everything was ok then and i realized that even in the midst of all the shittyness, good things still happen (even if they're little). i just thought i'd share that with you.
.until next time.

2.18.2003

this one is short and sweet, but just to make it not so boring and not so short, i'll throw in something i had previously written fo you...

somewhere between my heart and january i discovered that you were not with me anymore, and in a way it hurt, but in another way it was ok. maybe there are some words to be said that would make everything right or maybe theres a way that my heart could reach yours and put things back together, or maybe there isn't and i couldn't be more wrong, and we couldn't be more wrong for eachother.

i had just woken up in january when i last heard your voice, when i had already begun to drift away and was slowly detatching my affections from you. my phone started ringing the muppet song and i answered it to the scent of coffee and surprise, and while i couldn't be quite sure, i thought i could hear the alcohol rushing through your veins as you promised me that we would speak again tomorrow, but your tomorrow is six times past yesterday, and i don't really care, but i do.

it's been two januarys and two decembers (and one of everything else), and i have finally gotten my heart back from where it was: stuck to the bottom of your shoe, but i still can't escape you in my sleep because our summer soaked memories are stained in the back of my subconcious and replay and replay as a dream while i am swimming in slumber, making me wake up confused and missing what we had but not missing you. i don't really miss you now, and somehow it's ok because the memories were rich, and if fate should have it, they will be reality again. until then, i'm not drinking coffee anymore.

as my eyelids flutter open, all those memories become distant and fleeting drawing back into that now empty space of yours inside, and your voice and face fade from all vivid recollection, the fire your aura created is burning out, and the scent of coffee is growing stale; no more warm red-purple glow, and no more freshly brewed expresso beans...no more of you, just the memories, and the smiles, and the warmth, and you're gone, and i'm finally ok with it.