phil-himself
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2008 4 December :: 2.47am
Does anyone read this hellacious string of nonsensical rants anymore?
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cJessicaPyne
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2008 4 December :: 1.34am
I don't mind it. I don't mind at all.
It's like you're the swing set and I'm the kid that falls.
It's like the way we fight, the times I've cried, we come to blows,
and every night the passion's there so it's gotta be right..
..right?
No, I don't believe you when you say don't come around here no more.
I want to remind you, you said we wouldn't be apart.
No, I don't believe you when you say you don't need me anymore.
So don't pretend to not love me at all.
I don't mind it. I still don't mind at all.
It's like one of those bad dreams when you can't wake up.
Looks like you're giving up, you've had enough, but I want more, no I won't stop, because I just know you'll come around.
Right?
No, I don't believe you when you say don't come around here no more.
I want to remind you, you said we wouldn't be apart.
No, I don't believe you when you say you don't need me anymore
So don't pretend to not love me at all.
Just don't stand there and watch me fall because I, 'cause I still don't mind at all.
It's like the way we fight, the times I cry, we come to blows
and every night the passion's there, so it's gotta be right.
Right?
I don't believe you.
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cjessicapyne
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2008 3 December :: 5.38am
:: Mood: aggravated
:: Music: Pink - It's All Your Fault.
I'd conjure up the thought of being gone, but I'd probably even do that wrong. I try to think about which way. Would I be able to, and would I be afraid?
- - - - -
The next time I begin to glow radiantly and smile and rant about how friggin' awesome my day was, I need one of you to slap me across the face and tell me to shut my fucking mouth.
Because that's usually when awesome clouds over into horrible and I get 4am phone calls from a voice with a lot of yelling and accusing to do and, apparently, very little time.
And here I sit, clutching my new little MAC compact, eyes wide, heart racing, begging the attention of the shadows on my wall, saying, "It was my birthday. I got this for my birthday. Something was good, wasn't it? Yes. Good. Something was. This. For my birthday! Right? My birthday? ..right? ..good?"
The shadows, they ignore me.
But at least they don't accuse me.
You know, I fucked up once before and man it was one seriously impressive fuck-up, I'll admit. But do you really think I'm that stupid to do it again?
Fuck eggshells. I walk on broken glass.
And you'd think I'd do it again..?
Do you?
I mean really, do you?
Because my feet are pretty bloody but I SUPPOSE I can mash my face into it as well, if that's what your recipe for self-assurance calls for.
Hell, I'll even chew it.
No. I don't know what I'm supposed to be proving.
Or if I ever had anything to prove at all.
I guess I'm just really into selling myself short.
I mean, obviously; I keep running the same circles after you, don't I.
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egotrip
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2008 2 December :: 10.07pm
I don't want to live here anymore.
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beckaboo
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2008 2 December :: 11.39am
This is the world as we know it.
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skife
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2008 2 December :: 4.07am
i was bored, how well do you know me?
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cJessicaPyne
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2008 2 December :: 3.42am
I know I'm supposed to be sleeping, but..
Alex and I did a shoot for my birthday. Teaser!
The glorious comeback ensues.
Happy Birthday to me and such. Thanks to everyone who's already sent me their wishes!!!
Goodnight, darlings!
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beckaboo
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2008 1 December :: 6.32pm
That I am
I am
I am
The luckiest
---
Everything smells like garlic.
((and it's wrong that you aren't here))
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phil-himself
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2008 1 December :: 2.49pm
Saturday night at the liquor store
Thought this sounded kinda dirty
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beckaboo
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2008 1 December :: 10.41am
I may have to marry Ben Folds.
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skife
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2008 1 December :: 4.34am
I'm still not content with the way things have worked out.
fuck it dude, shits over.
If you don't stand for nothing I can't really stand behind you
Who knew you withdrew your point of view
I lost mine, you cry and whine all the time
And I cant stand aside or anywhere near you
I'd get in check, you're a wreck, no respect,
In effect you elect me to fuckin' hate you
I'll break you down on the ground, I've found
You're a clown, I'm around, you want war? I'll take you
Stand aside, take a ride, I won't try, you're a lie, my lyrical lesson will teach you
So take a stand if you can, my man, go where I stand, I'll hold my land
But in the real world you get squashed and then stung
Get hit bitch, slit, aw then you get hung
in a fantasy all day long, it must be so fun being so fucking dumb
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spinder
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2008 4 December :: 1.40am
I think I would be happy in life if people argued more.
Lots more. Like in the good ole days, put forth in smoking circles and Socratic meetings.
A great deal of our world has sprung forth from consenting adults ripping each others viewpoints apart. Its a lost art. Or rather, perhaps a refined one.
I think the real problem is that we've became so used to empty attacks and general idiots assaulting our own viewpoints that we've decided there is no good involved in listening to the next affront to our world view we happen to come across.
Its a form of laziness, or perhaps a coping mechanism. I tend to think laziness.
Most people get blocked from having a crack at my viewpoints because most people are downright retarded. I could hunker down and debate something controversial quite a few times each day, but a good deal of it would just be pointing out how stupid people are. Not in a mean way, but in a "you probably shouldn't get your facts from Fox news and Wikipedia stubs if you intend to think critically about it" kind of way.
I can only face palm several hundred times the absolute mental drivel of the varied notions of abiotic oil, or noah's ark, or the physical evidence a young earth before I just begin to take the opening statements for these things as a good sign that whomever this person is, they probably don't have the capacity to add anything to the conversation.
I imagine I do the same thing to people as well. I bet more often than not I get pidgin holed into a darkened corner of other peoples minds.
My high horse tends to be a well researched opinion. Perhaps I should lead that stead around by the reins a while.
Oh well.
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egotrip
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2008 30 November :: 8.07pm
:: Mood: Hunting Bears/Radiohead
One night, a man had a dream. He dreamed he was walking along the beach with the Lord. Across the sky flashed scenes from his life. For each scene, he noticed two sets of footprints in the sand: one belonging to him and the other to the Lord. When the last scene of his life flashed before him, he looked back at the footprints in the sand. He noticed that many times along the path of his life there was only one set of footprints. He also noticed that it happened at the very lowest and saddest times in his life. This really bothered him and he questioned the Lord about it.
"Lord, You said that once I decided to follow You, You'd walk with me all the way. But I have noticed that during the most troublesome times in my life, there is only one set of footprints. I don't understand why when I needed You most, You would leave me."
The Lord replied, "My precious, precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints in the sand, it was then that I carried you."
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cJessicaPyne
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2008 30 November :: 6.26pm
Dear Finn,
You were meant to be a birthday gift. And you were. But the most adorable, personable, outspoken birthday gift in the world.
You listened to me bitch, nodding and tilting your head to the side when my voice dipped into a sad pitch, making me smile. And when I'd raise my voice, you'd bark for emphasis, always on my side.
You always hogged the big, red pillow and sometimes I'd nudge you just to hear you grunt at me. Your little personal, 'fuck you.'
TOTALLY my puppy.
My world imploded and you didn't care. We were still BFFs and that's all that mattered. You lived for my arrival each day, and reveled in your outside potty breaks that turned into hour-long snow games. Pretty soon, I did too.
So why didn't you wake up?
Teardrop on a fragile eyelash, she's looking like a dream.
Hoping for some understanding, an answer, or at least
cunning words, a single sentence, to restore her heart:
aching since the day I left her, crossing lonely seas.
Why did Alex and Casey have to dig you a grave that I, still, feel was too big for you? Five weeks, little man, and then you were gone.
I'm not mad, I just feel left behind.
I feel a little pathetic writing all of these goodbye letters to you, Isaiah, and his brother/sister.
I haven't moved your food or water. In fact, the pieces you stashed around my our room are still there, neatly piled like you left them.
I miss you.
I wish things were good again. I wish Carlie wasn't a cheating liar and I wish Derek was happy. I wish Desi and I could still be buds.
But nothing ever works out the way you plan, right Raych? You just have to roll with the punches and make sure you dodge the particularly bad ones. After awhile, you learn the ropes. You learn how to see through those black eyes, how to draw air into your aching chest, and how to suture your own gashes - even the ones all the way in your back.
I wish none of us had to be so ruthless. So selfish. So solitary.
But that's what it takes, right?
Because Life has become War.
A war where babies stop breathing in their mama's arms, and puppies with one white-tipped ear don't wake up.
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cjessicapyne
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2008 30 November :: 5.38am
:: Mood: sad
Seriously?
Like, for real, man?
Is my life some fucking joke?!
Because you know, nothing can go right for more than two consecutive days.
Where the hell have I been, how did I miss so much, and when the fuck did refusing to lie make me an abnormal person?
If you want to cheat on your boyfriend, that's your prerogative, but don't ever ask me to cover for you.
You know - for future reference.
I'm not so mad about losing a 'friend' over something like that. Thankfully my morals are strong enough to withstand a night of threats and getting out of the car, and sitting at a deserted gas station at 3am, and frozen driveway screamfests.
Thankfully.
But coming home to find my birthday puppy dead?
Come on.
It's not even my BIRTHDAY YET. Which means I have three days to find a desolate cave in which to barricade myself. I can't take anymore.
I feel bland and everything-less. Ambition, love, comfort, inspiration, sleep, feeling. Kind of like a rock left to the waves of the relentless sea. I'm losing my features and feel so bland.
At least inside my head.
He wasn't even five weeks old.
He would have been, today.
Just like Isaiah being 5 months.
That just seems to be my number.
Nothing is what I thought it would be and nobody is who they swore they were.
Which is all well and good, really. It's fine.
I just need a break. I need some air. I need to be held until I fall asleep.
I need to figure out what I'm doing so wrong.
I've worked so hard to keep out of the masquerade and be real with people. I put honesty first. I do everything with passion and thought. So why am I always the one called crazy? emotionless? a liar?
I keep wishing my son and Finn would wake up.
Or that I will.
Because this has honestly become a nightmare.
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