You are on the blog. Post something.
I love you.
xxdruxx
oh yeah July 11, 2009
and the song is called “Why do I keep counting” just realized that.
SHOT THROUGH THE HEART, AND YOU’RE TO BLAME! HONEY YOU GIVE LOVE A BAD NAME!
xxdruxx
#random #tired #usingtwittertagsinblogsmakesyoucool
Well… July 11, 2009
You had a point.. but it got lost in my thoughts and I didn’t still don’t quite understand.
How can you say “it’s your fault, you did this.” Personally I’d blame her… I promise she started this. See I am here, where is she?
After all of this I’m still here and she is not around, ditched you, stupid, …Gone.
*~Chi~*
Why am I still Counting? July 11, 2009
Brilliant song by The Killers.
It’s been about 32 hours straight that I’ve gone without a wink of sleep.
Please don’t ask me to be eloquent. I can’t even type straight.
Chi and Dan will be joining us this year on the blog. There were only two spots availalbe ( after careful consideration of how noisy the blog seemed with six of us ) [ and yes, I know that's not spelt right, I decided to leave my mistakes as they are so you can see how tired I is. ] and they both are wonderful although everyone that applied is alwo wonderful.
I voftoing….forgot where the “n” key was last night. *sigh*
xxdruxx
[ edit:
Really? Somehow managed to make it a page instaead of post. Go dor...dru. See how sleepy I am? ]
Stack July 10, 2009
There’s a stack of papers here on the desk of the computer.
They all need to be copied over into the computer because they’re all flash fiction/poetry/random things that I’ve written.
And most of them has almost no literary merit whatsoever.
=)
xxdruxx
[ i keep checking my facebook compulsively to see if he's responded. He hasn't. =( ]
reflection July 10, 2009
You don’t understand it.
The Feelings.
The Need.
You think I can’t love.
Not truly.
Not deeply.
You can’t see that I do.
I love
I f—.
I find the truest happiness
In my reflection’s arms…
[ another older poem. From before I stopped swearing. I like this one. it's very...poignant. Especially if you know what it's about. ]
xxdruxx
Peon July 10, 2009
A small red sun encased in Golden Sky
Rests on Mother’s softly risen breast
Unearthly hand reaches out and plucks from her her sun.
And in his stead, within a sea of red blood, the maggots writhe.
[ I wrote this on a Papa John's napkin when I worked at the shop in Eastbourne with Lu. It's actually about pepperoni and onion pizza =) Nothing nasty. The blood is tomato sauce, the maggots cooked onion. Very poetic, I know. ]
xxdruxx
Padora’s Box July 10, 2009
I made this a LONG time ago ( Before Christmas, I believe ) for a young man that I quite dislike now.
Well, I don’t dislike him. I really, honestly like him a lot. But I wouldn’t readily admit to just how much.
And on the inside it says…
Open me up and find a treat
A true life story so complete
Read me first:
I’m poorly made, but deeply felt, silent yet screaming out. The choice is yours to give me voice and, doing so, release the demons of a heart, or to put me in your trash or on a shelf where I’ll hold her heart’s plea. The truth inside me soon escapes when opened, but as before, when all else is lost, hope still remains. The Choice is Yours.
1. Creamed rose petals, that’s what I see when I gaze at you. I must say gaze because any other verb is not nearly strong enough to convey the longing I feel when I contemplate your radiance. Your feigned-fake arrogance bewitches me like my own reflection and I long, quite desperately, for your approval. I want you to long for me. Sometimes
2. inelegant words are the only things plain enough to show the truest, rawest emotions.
I told you something, late one early morning and I thought I caught a glance of approval. Just one.
Maybe more of acceptance.
But you hold your silence, as you are wont to do, and I wonder when, if ever, your gaze will shift to me, from her.
A. I feel guilty. Does the end justify the mean? And how correct to call it a “mean” for I fear it would be a death to my dear friend. Your family think it jest but she sees you in the same light that your Ballerina-Queen dances in on the stage of your mind.
And what do I feel for you?
I don’t know. Fascination, longing, despair. I think I love you.
B. Have you ever dreamt of someone you never meant to? I dreamt of you, driving me to some surreal plane, loving my true and secret self. I’ve come to realize that self is too precious to show the world. How I’d love for you to see and praise it.
We were, in simple complexity, and my heart nearly stopped from the pure light of nearness with you.
I can ask for your silence, but it’s totally your call. I don’t like my story being everyone’s, it belongs to you and the woman that made me.
So, I beg your silence.
But after all,
I’m only a box.
– ♥ -
The inside of the box.
xxdruxx
following doesn’t make me a stalker July 10, 2009
right?
I may not “follow” you.
But I sit and stare at your fb/twtr and will there to be something new there.
There never is.
But maybe if I hope hard enough…
xxdruxx
Sad July 10, 2009
So, I think it’s kind of pathetic that I’m treasuring up every single word he says to me. Sends, rather. Because I haven’t talked to him since…a long time it seems.
But it’s not.
[ Twitter refuses to load. This angers me. ]
I don’t know if he reads this. He found me on Twitter [ which just loaded. Stress relieved ] and twitter has a link to here. And you know, that’s one thing that made my heart beat faster. Someone actually had the presence of mind to google me. Or whatever. And that’s good. But he would. Because he plays the keyboard like she plays with words.
He’s got some pent up issues. But I don’t really care.
Like…at all.
I like him.
I feel that “spark” that Jacob won’t shut up about.
And I feel quite ridiculous because I’m coming up to 19 and I have all the world in front of me.
I’m probably going to end up like mom and not get married until I’m 35. *sigh* that would suck. But I don’t don’t don’t want to get married right now. I’ve had quite enough of forever for the moment.
And I don’t know where I picked up that “thrice for emphasis” thing, but I don’t like it. It’s rather like a cold bug you pick up – you curse the kiss that gave it to you more than the actual cold. Or something like that.
But I like him. That was the point.
I like him a lot. And I want him to like me, too. I want us to talk – occasionally – and hang out and be friends and just chill. Or something like that.
Or something like that.
Or something.
*sigh*
What’s happened to all the bravado?
Down the drain already?
Doesn’t help that Jacob told me I was ugly.
He called me anorexic too, which is a compliment because it insinuates the loss of weight, but he was like “either you’re hot or you’re really ugly and that’s why —- doesn’t like you. He doesn’t think you’re hot”
Granted, not calling me ugly in as many words. But nearly as many.
So…What I need:
To finish cleaning my room.
To get things somewhat sorted with him. The royal him, whose name I don’t want to say because I’m afraid it’ll frighten him away like a rabbit.
To recover my bravado.
And
Save the world.
Or something like that…
xxdruxx
