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| Listen: "Affirmation" by the Side Project @ myspace.com/thesideproject. Please, please listen. You must listen. You absolutely have to listen. Listen before reading. Please. Oh, and while you're at it, check out "It's Not as Hard as You Think" by Mercir @ myspace.com/mercir.
One day, you will see it wasn't as you thought.
I got food poisoning. I slept for 17 hours. I awoke to a new world.
I only had one dream throughout those 17 hours. Imagine walking aimlessly around the Everett bus station. You see all these buses coming in. Their destinations are written above the front window. You see Everett. You see Seattle. You see Vancouver. You see Bremerton - wait! Bremerton? Imagine Bremerton. You want to go back. Suddenly a videotape appears at your feet. On top of the cold, rainy pavement next to a Greyhound, it rests at your feet. You pick it up. You play it in your mind. It is the unexpected. Your last love got all his friends together to form this dedication tape. You see all his friends of your yesterday talking to the camera. They greet you from the past. They weren't who you imagined them to be. They greeted you. They like it. You are going to go back. You are going to go back. But then you press the "pause" button of your mind. You paused once the girl in the red dress stood in the center. They called her you. They all believed she was you. You leaned in closer. It was not you. No. You don't belong there. You never have. You never will. You never stepped foot on that bus.
I awoke to a new world. The snowing stopped. The sun set in. I fitted my favourite shirt on over my head - The Calling 2004 tour. I never needed it with a jacket. Must be spring.
A simple present provokes hostile wounds to reopen. I never cared. Must be spring.
Ripe grass provided a resting bed. I always sunbathe. Must be spring.
I was reborn. I was born with a sense of self. A sense of purpose. Optimism. It kills the death. Perhaps I died at my realization. The dream was not sudden. I knew it all along. I just refused to admit it. I had let go now. So let go. Just give in. Oh, it's so amazing here. And it is. The grass is green. The skies are blue. The mountain reopens. My soul released. Optimism compliments. Black was not black at all aside that you thought you were safely standing on blank as ice and filled with wordly thoughts and it's not as hard as you think. Yes.
I was implanted with a realization. A realization that I am unable to conclude now. | | |
| I talked to my November friend. As if nothing had happened. Strange.
I miss him...
But you know what that means?
I've got 'em all back. November. December. January. February. March. April. I got 'em all back. They took me back. Well, I'm still not sure about March.
November is most important. Now, I can be happy. If I want to be.
I've lost control.
Now I am the one waiting for the call. | | |
| He will do one of two things / He will admit to everything / Or he'll say he's just not the same / And you'll begin to wonder why you came...
I let it all out. Last night. I cried. And cried. Insomnia came over me again. It has the best of me. I let it all out. I cried. And cried. And cried some more. I could not stop myself. I refused. I had to let it all out. Now, I have been expressed. My agenda is complete.
I was crying over my November friend.
But enough of that now. Today was brilliant. Extravagent. Never been better. Well, at least, not since Thanksgiving. I think I'm cool again with my March friend. Excellent. But not completely. Of course not.
I have a good feeling about this quarter. Spring Quarter 2006. Intro to Poetry 275. History of Pop Music 105. Health 101. All good classes. Intriquing. And, to top it off, I can focus.
I can focus. Finally.
In poetry class today, I started my first journal entry. I analyzed a poem by November friend. The best one. It was "Subconscious." Well, the best one, that is, next to, say, "Cheery Stained Lips," but you see, that, my journaling friends, was not recorded, simply because it was, uh, purely improvised, and also because it did not, let's face finally at once now, he did not feel for the main subject. Sad, but true. Of course, it's true. It has to be true. He simply did not give a damn. And if he did, some things, you know, certain circumstances, would be much different.
Anyways, enough of all that bullshit, what I meant to say was that I was actually able to analyze the poem. I used to be so terrible at that kinda thing. I hated reading poetry, even my own. But after him, I changed. Quickly. And adaptively. How strange. It is.
Just. Like. Everything. Else. Completely. And. Complete.
You know.
\{{[[[((((I adapted my life. My whole life. But for what? So, that he could break it? So, that he could come and go? So, that he could build up my values then destroy them all at once - destroy them all in one night, one morning? Everything. Was. Destroyed. And why was it? Am I partially to blame? Should I have had better control? Do I even have a little bit of control? Do I? Why do I not? Adapt. Adapt. Adapt. Analyze the words. The rhythms. The rhymes. But for what? For what? So, that I could be built up into one spiritual, "subconscious" beings just to be broken? Broken. As. Glass. But for why? Why? Why? Why? Why? I need to know. Why? I need to feel okay. I need to feel safe. Do I? Call. Call. Call. Call for the answers. Call for the questions. Mainly for the questions. It's all for the questions. Call for the questions. Then call for him. Call for him. Call for him. Why? But shouldn't he call me? Why hasn't he? I. Need. Him. More than anything, I need a call. Give me a quarter. I'll make the call. No. I'll acquire that quarter myself, thank you. Pick it up. Pick up the phone. Pick up the damn phone, already. Pick. Pick. Pick. It up. Call. Call. I need the call. I need the answers. But more importantly, I need the questions. I have the questions. Questions? I have all that I need. Need? At any given moment. At this moment. I do.))))]]]}}}/ | | |
| Back to school. End the vacation.
Learn a secret. Laugh. Amuse yourself. But only for a second. Then you think. You better think. Think deeply but make yourself seem entirely too content to others. Think. Analyze. It's a secret. That. You. Had. Just. Learned. Remember.
It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. I think it does.
Recognize a secret when it comes toward you. Know it. Understand its secrecy. Is it secret? Who knows it? I do not know.
I will keep quiet. Forever. Never done this before. Not in my nature. But now it is.
I learn from my April friend. | | |
| Okay, now I'm finally upset. But I'm not. I should be. I just visited the Side Project's myspace page, and...NO MUSIC!! WTF? Why not? This can't be! Meh. Oh well. At least I've got Mercir...and A Sordid Party...and the Fray...and the Schoolyard Heroes...and She Wants Revenge...and Nine Black Alps...and so on and so on. But all those bands pale nothing in comparison to the Side Project.
When the Side Project falls apart, it's all the other bands coming together that lead me on.
That is my variation of that song. Yes.
But hold it.
Just for one single second.
Could that little line represent something else happening in my life? I think it does.
I just lost another friend. Yes, yes, I know. Christ! I need to stop doing that! But I mean, it's really not under my control. Really. I don't think so. They just need time. I mean, the friend I lost back in November...Sure, of course I can take some responsibility for that. I now wonder (and kick myself over)...When I feel a deep emotional connection with someone like that, why does it always have to lead to sexuality? Why do we always have to have either all or nothing? Why is that true? I lost a friend. But it was a mutual agreement.
Then there was the friend I lost in December...I definently do need to take responsibility for this one. I did something I shouldn't have. And it was all to get over my November friend. All his fault. So, it's not like I can blame my December friend, although I do. The way that she handled it was way out of line.
And just when I thought things had gone bad...I lost another friend in January. By then, I knew I had a problem...A connection had been made. Whereas, the other falling outs were either my half-fault or mostly-fault, this one was none at all. It was not in my control at all. Time took away all of my control. All that was need was time. Coincidently, this was the one friendship I might have cared the most about. This was the longest, most loyal one. This was the hardest falling out.
I suppose February was about the time I lost another. I really didn't mind this one not nearly as much as the others. Really. I had actually just met her. We hadn't had like a gigantic, emotionally-laced falling out. It was more like, we just met eachother, and now we were meeting other people. I sense a pattern.
Now, it is March. And yes, I lost yet another friend. I'm currently in the conflict, so I can't say much about it. Only time will allow me to.
It's rather strange how this all worked out. One friend per month. But incidently, during each falling out, I always have other friends to lead me on. So, my anxiety doesn't get too out of control, I suppose. It all ready has been. All this in and out has to take a toll on me somehow, right?
You don't need to be sorry. I think I do. | | |
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