i open my mouth to scream, but all i make is silence
Wednesday, Mar. 14, 2007 :: 1:58 a.m.
my rhyme ain't good just yet,
my brain and tongue just met
i feel like i'm drifting through space. like i'm back to existing, but i'm not really living. i stare blankly at this screen for hours a day and just do nothing. i put on music, but nothing soothes this dull ache in my stomach for something more. i don't have the energy to put myself out there. i contemplate spending more than half the day curled up in bed, my head buried underneath a mountain of pillows.
i tried shopping. new shoes, new jewelry, new nail polish. i tried drawing. i tried writing. and making icons. i tried organizing. i tried cleaning. i did five loads of laundry. and cleaned the kitchen six times. i reorganized my dresser drawers. i cleaned my closet. i sorted my t-shirts. i folded everything. i hung everything else. i packed. i unpacked. i even smoked.
i hear in my mind all of these words
i hear in my mind all of this music
and it breaks my heart
i feel lost, like i'm not real and like i'm invisible. i hear words and i see faces, but i don't interact. i do, and and i don't. and i don't sleep anymore. even when i'm bone tired and can't pry my eyes open anymore. and then i lie in this daze, this blur of memories and nightmares and reality.
and sweating like demons they scream through our speakers
but we leave the sound on 'cause silence is harder.
i can't even stare at the faces on the wall anymore. i picture a rage of me tearing everything down and stuffing it into a plastic garbage can. but the reality is, i'll sit there with a staple remover and gently remove every page from the wall. i'll stuff it into some folder in the back of my desk, and in five years i'll pull them all out and think about putting them back up. but i won't. because i don't like to change things. all the holes where posters once were, just sit there staring at me. i have all the posters. i could put them up again. but i don't.
The weather report keeps on
tossing and turning,
predicting and warning,
sometimes i still think i'm the same eleven year old who plastered james van der beek and 'n sync on her bedroom wall. but the rest of the room is different. it's not grown up, i still have rope lights and strawberry shortcake sheets. i have an inflatable chair and porcelain dolls that my grandmother made me.
maybe there are too many memories here for me to start over. but if i tried, would i even know where to begin?
lyrics from regina spektor "fidelity" and "consequence of sounds"
last five entries
- - Friday, Jan. 10, 2020
older but not wiser - Friday, Aug. 15, 2008
you say i'm different, but i stay the same - Saturday, Jan. 26, 2008
i open my mouth to scream, but all i make is silence - Wednesday, Mar. 14, 2007
just in case you wondered... - Thursday, Aug. 10, 2006
