Can I buy a vowel

It's about someday, isn't it? We all live our lives planning for the future. For what comes next, or for what will never come again. We check the dates, the months fly by and the minutes mock us as they pass. It is a creation created for the lonely soul, those sitting up waiting for the chance to grab an opportunity. At missed love, at missed fortune. We blindly bat against our destinies, but our aim is astray because we only focus forward. We need something to look forward to, we need the hope of a better tomorrow. This world is too fragile, existence too frail. It's all about searching, looking, climbing, finding, settling, losing, repeating. A vicious cycle? A sick temptation? A sad addiction? But it's all okay, it's all okay...there's always tomorrow. Always tomorrow to fix ourselves, always tomorrow to face the day, always tomorrow to help us forget. But tomorrow's light dawns upon the suppressed realizations of reality. Who are we without our loneliness and who are we without our endeavors to shatter it? Because that's the only thing that really propels us in the end anyway, right? To heal a broken heart, to forget that one that got away, to impress, to some day be able to support a family. But how much do we do for ourselves? Only for us, no one else. Really, ask yourself. How many things do I do for me? Yeah. Nothing at all, right? It's a scary thing to think about, how much other people truly change our paths, our inspirations, our abilities. Yet here we are, with our own minds, allowing these people to accumulate inside of us until they take control. They blur together, they become who we are. They bleed for us, they feel for us, they decide for us. We are all products of people we have met, whether in passing or in depth. And through out every milestone we silently wish to ourselves that they were there to see how far we've come. Hoping that we, too, see a glimmer of ourselves in them as we exchange glances and quietly dust ourselves off and move on toward someday...

Five months of silence

It's been a while. It's a funny thing, silence. Some crave it, some reject it, others ignore it. Which ever way you look at it, it's still there. Silence screams our desires, it forces us to face our thoughts without shields. You can't hide from silence, it's unavoidable. It's buried in the lulls of conversation, the gap between songs, the moment before we drift into a dream. It's always there waiting for a moment to strike. It is true, you can't hide from silence, but you can break it. 4/1/12.

Along with silence comes time, a phenomenon that I have studied before. "Time heals all wounds, time waits for no man, time changes everything," it seems as though this concept of time is pretty infamous. People beg for a little more, for it to stop in its tracks, for it to rewind, to erase itself, to wait for them as they sort out their tragedies. We take time for granted when we feel that we're running out, we praise time when we find ourselves in need of healing. But time is too notorious to serve our needs. Time laughs at our pleads and lengthens our process of growth, but time is understanding. Time wants us to prove that we deserve the magic that it conveys, and that we understand the power of what it can do. And the most ironic thing of all? That understanding and entitlement of its prophecy all comes...in time.

Settled

I've written a lot of posts like the one I feel inclined to. But instead I'll take a different approach. I won't write anything at all. 12/5/11-0/00/0000

Ill

Sometimes you just let go.

Lightening in the rearview mirror, looking fear in the eyes. Expecting me to run, but I refuse. I refuse to fall a casualty to what so many others have lost before. I refuse to fall short of the expectations that have been placed so short upon me. Fear taunts me, crashing and echoing through all the silence surrounding us all. I am calm, I am composed. Steady my shaking hands, grip the wheel and gain control. Lightening in the rearview mirror, as fear turns to hide its eyes.

Follow me down, but I won't take you with me. The world isn't spinning in my favor tonight. And when the sky is burning and the ashes fall, who will you call to catch them with you? Who will you call to catch them with you?

diarfa os i ma yhw

I have heard a lot of people's stories. About cruel childhood events, grueling heartbreaks, personal destruction, whatever it may be. I have watched these people, some that I never would have expected, unfold right in front of my eyes. Sometimes it comes in a rush, overflowing from their soul as if they were released from drowning in their past. Other times it's in layers, peeling from the shell that they hide behind exposing their raw existence. I have heard a lot of people's stories, but I am still scared to tell my own.

As fast as I can.

Being alone is a tricky trade to master. It forces us to think, about the things that we push aside in our daily lives, about the things we try to cover up. About that one thing that just might be able to unveil what we've been hiding from, what could take over us. Some fill these voids with the company of others, whether it be friends, or lovers. Others take the route of substances; alcohol, drugs. Which ever way a person goes about it, somehow their emptiness is temporarily absorbed. But not even the best of us all can avoid loneliness forever. Friends wander home, lovers stray and the substances are replaced with sobriety. Sooner or later, we all end up alone, just our thoughts, four walls, and no where else to hide. So we sit, and we realize that by trying so hard to fill these voids, we have done nothing but stretch them larger. So we're forced to think. And as soon as that one thing, that one thought, crosses our minds, we realize that maybe avoiding it wasn't the best idea. But still, we do. Because being alone is a tricky trade to master, so we run.

I haven't been able to write recently, and I used to think it was due to an overexposed quantity of numbness. Now, I've realized it's because I feel too much. Too much to express, or organize correctly to make sense. But maybe that's the beauty in all of this. None of it makes sense to ourselves, but it could to someone else. That's why I keep writing. That's why I'm here, to help you make sense of it all.

Day 1 of Chapter 2.

My best friend once told me, "The moment that you can come to terms with your path, your destiny, what is going on in your life, what you can control and what you can't is the day that you have life by the throat. It's all a game and life is hard, so you must be hard back." It took me a while to learn this lesson, and it took me even longer to realize that his words were, in fact, true.

RAW

I wrote a long paragraph about growth and life lessons, but I've always promised myself I'd never lie on here. So I'll just leave with a question. Is it possible to take control of destiny?

I talk out loud in my sleep because I bite my tongue when I'm awake.

screaming reflections.

It's definitely been worse, but that's hard to accept. That things aren't as bad as they have been, or as bad as they are for other people. That doesn't help. Telling ourselves that people have it worse doesn't make the pain disappear. It's been a long road, a road full of mistakes and repetition of them. No matter where we step we find ourselves back in the same position, feeling the same way surrounded by the same empty nothingness that we've desperately tried to fill. Fill with hollow friendships, nights, substances. Our voids rip opened until there is nothing but an outline of what we used to consist of. It's definitely been worse, but that's hard to accept... everything's hard to accept these days.

silly.

maintain balance.

I have watched a lot of people fall. Over the years some people accumulate such momentum and drive that builds them up higher, higher until one day... it all comes out from underneath them. I don't like to watch this happen, but time after time right before my eyes... rise, and fall. I have stared into the darkness of people that I love, dislike or barely know lose everything inside of them. But maybe it isn't about what we prove when we're on top, but more about how we pick up the pieces of our pedestals, of ourselves. I have watched a lot of people fall over the years, one of them being me. But I have risen, and so can you.