Pleasantly Pathetic

What is correct? These feelings seem wrong.
When I think about the people in my life, no matter who's talking to me in my memory,
no matter who's eyes I see shining when I recollect, they all seem so very fragile.
Like fine china. So easily broken. Should you take the plates out and eat with them every night if you know they'll get chipped or break in the dishwasher... or should you never take them out and think of them fondly as you eat your dinner and stare through a glass covering to look at them?

In my opinion, one is more correct than the other by idealistic terms. The first statement being the seemingly more right. However, something inside me runs from them, I think. Especially when the idea of chipping comes into context. Why should I be the cause of their fragmentation? What could I add to these beatiful things but fractured thinking?


Try explaining that to someone. They'll think you're lying, or crazy. This isn't an all the time out loud kind of a thing, this is a subconscious thing that really brings itself up more and more in the middle of my worst situations. When you think the most is when you feel the worst, most of the time. I'm feeling sick to my stomach and I would really just like to cut out the noise. All the noise I managed to drag into my life that I will drag right out again. This noise is not a people kind of noise, but an idea kind of noise that repeats itself louder and louder until I have no choice but to scream.


I'm pretty sure we all have a slideshow of memories that we're not fond of flashing through our heads at any time... but they do, don't they.



God, take this shattered glass girl and make her new. Pressing on towards the goal... forgetting the past to pursue the future.. the prize that was promised.


and King David said something about you saved me... that you saved me from myself, as I was destined for the grave.


You move my heart, God... I don't want to curse or sip wine or kiss or be out late anymore. Not that these things are evil, just that they're not me. I am so comfortable being uncomfortable with You. These things are a part of me people tell me are normal, something okay that I shouldn't worry about. Alcohol, even in small quantities, makes my stomach hurt. Kissing can never just be kissing, being close is rarely ever just being close. My dirty mouth stems from anger, and I know it. These words are simply like watering a garden of hatred somewhere deep in my soul... like granules of fertilizer to the rooted soil. Staying out late ALL the time upsets my internal clock. I like to go out late and have fun as much as the next person.. but three o clock in the morning on a week night and I'm an emotional basket case.



In school it's easier because my rigorous schedule forces me to be in studio, but what when people find you? As they always do... and you love them, passionately, wrecklessly... you love them. Then you fail them. It's inevitable, I fail miserably! I do a lot of good, to no credit of my own...


I don't even know what I'm saying these days.