Ew.

Jealousy's a bitch. Especially when it can't even be put into words. When I can't even describe why I'm jealous. I just know that for some reason, something about this is making me uncomfortable. And I don't like it. I don't like the concept of you going off. I don't ;laskjdf know why. Ugh. It makes my heart hurt, it makes my insides do that thing where it feels like everything is shifting to the side a little bit. And as I'm laying here in my bed, I can't help but have this awful feeling in my stomach. I can't help but hold on to this dizzying emotion that can't even be named. It can't even be classified. Blah, blah, blah. I just needed to get it out. And now I'm done.







Just don't judge me.

The truth is...

It's just you and me.
And I'm so okay with that.
You are the air I breathe,
you are the beat to my heart.

Breathe Electric

There was a ghostly figure standing, maybe hovering, at the end of my bed. I asked her name, she didn't reply. I saw her lips move, but no words escaped her parched lips. I never knew of such beauty until last night, until the moment that I saw that figure, that passionate shape she layed out in front of me. I watched as she made her way close to me, leaned her face so close to mine that I could feel her invisible breath going into my lungs with every gasp. I knew if I made a move she was leave, I laid there still taking in every silent word. Every beautiful morsel of seduction that escaped her mouth.

Breathe electric, breathe electric, breathe electric.
Breathe electric, breathe electric, breathe electric.
Breathe electric, breathe electric, breathe electric.
Breathe electric, breathe electric, breathe electric.

Take in as much as you can, breathe electric.
Let it shock you from the inside, breathe electric.
Feel the sparks ignite you, breathe electric.

Breathe electric, breathe electric, breathe electric.
Breathe electric, breathe electric, breathe electric.

Put it out, put it out, put it outttt.
Take in as much oxygen as you can take in, let it out. That's right, let it all out till you're gasping for air. That wonderful negative energy, let it take you over, let it consume you with that all knowing, seductive smile.


Let it take over.

































breathe electric

Since we're on the subject of dreams;

I didn't wake up in a cold sweat due to my dream.

I woke up quite content, quite happy, and quite excited for 'dream predictions'.
When I fell asleep, I didn't feel too amazing, kind of stomach ache-y and headache-y and stuff, so upon falling asleep I had a couple really weird dreams. For the first half of my night, I dreamt that I was writing lyrics, about someone, but I don't remember who. Sad thing is, they were amazing. It's horribly sad that I can only be so poetic in my sleep, and upon waking up, can't remember. Anyway. So I was in this church, and for some reason at some point of the dream, I was told to skin these ferret things but they were cats. And 'they' [I can't remember who 'they' was.] kept calling them North American....somethings? Who knows. And so I went around skinning these things, and for some reason, I didn't put up a fight, despite my normal anti hurting animals sentiment.

OK so eventually that dream died off, I don't really remember any in-between time.

Then it was a completely separate dream.

So Stevey came over, to visittt, of course. And my parents were all like, in love with him and stuff, because they finally had a happy, contently relationship-ed daughter. Details aren't necessary, but there was a lot of kissing, and a lot of .. kissing. Like I said. Details aren't necessary. Then Stevey met all my friends, and liked them, of course. Idk, there isn't much to say, about this dream, it's much how I expect his actual visit to go. So I won't spoil future stories, and I'll end it here=)

Blah.

I wish I could prove myself better. I wish I knew how to make everyone realize my aspirations in life, and take them serious. Even if they are unrealistic. I want to be a model. I want to be taller, I want to be skinnier, I want to have perfect hair, and skin, and everything. I want to be wanted. I want to have the beauty to be vain. Sorry if that's bad.

I wish I had a lot of money, so I could buy a nice camera, so I could travel, and spoil my friends, and I wish I could just feel good about myself.

A day in my shoes would be so shocking to most of the people who love me most, who think they know me best. The daily thought processes, that never go away. Those things that won't go away, the constant decision of whether or not to eat today, or a decision of whether or not today will be the day I just leave home. My faking of vanity, pretending I'm beautiful to try and make myself seem that way. The fact that I constantly compare myself to every beautiful girl I see, pick apart everything on my body until I despise it all. I think every day about all the people I've hurt in my life, about all the people who have hurt me. I hate what I've been through. And I know that people say to learn from hardship in your life, but I just don't buy it. It doesnt work that way. It doesn't go away, it doesn't help me make decisions, it does nothing but rot around in my brain and hurt.

Oh well.
You learn to cope with constant pain, and grasp onto the few things in life that make it seem worth it.

Blah, evening.

And my will subsiding, and my soul's inviting, the spirit of your love. That's when I know I'm alive, when I feel your heart beating beside me. And even if Heaven weren't real, I'd still live my every day the same.

Walk in circles, falling deeper into oblivion, deeper into insanity.
We spin around, play the same old games back and forth, like before.
You stare me down, tell me I'm beautiful, I spin you around, tell you I'm in love with you.
You push me down, you kiss me, I could play this game all day, all night long.
You are my every breath, you are my every day, every star in my night sky.

I'm sick of this distance, the closeness is killing me. Every thought of seeing you so soon, hurts my heart because I know that 'soon' isn't today. Soon isn't now.

"Distance never separates two hearts that really care, for our memories span the miles and in seconds, we are there. But whenever I start feeling sad because I miss you, I remind myself of how lucky I am to have someone to miss."

You won't too soon forget me, I wont let it happen.
You own my heart, you own my everything, you are my everything.






UHMMMMMM
So, I'm watching Project Runway, and sitting here with my parents and my aminals. In a bit I'm going out with David, for dinner or something. UGH I'm so hungry.


And bored, so I'll put up pictures that I like

To you

S,
To explain to you everything you've done in my life would be a ridiculous thought, as would it be nearly impossible. To say how much you've changed me for the better, how much you've stuck by me, would be unnecessary even. But I'll try anyway. You're the ease of a lazy Saturday morning, you're the beauty of the most perfect song. You're everything good, with amazing intentions. You've stolen every inch of my heart, you've taken over my life, my song, my every day. You give me a reason to wake up each morning, even if you don't wake up til hours later ;] You make life seem worth living. You make things seem good.


You're the smell of the rain, and every song I wish to sing.
Stepped out of a dream, walked into a rainy day, you cleared away the clouds.

Love, M.

Consistency.

I look for comfort in harm. I try to drink away my problems, hurt myself to the point where all the other problems kind of fade back into the distance. I don't mean to do it, it's second nature. No, it's not as bad as before, and yes, I have help now. But, that doesn't mean its not easy to slip back into those habits.


There are only a few things, a few people, who truely make me feel alive, anymore.
The people who don't give a shit about my imperfections, who don't care that I'm not picture perfect when I wake up, that I get cranky at night, and confess way too much love to take in when I'm drunk. Those are the people who I'll keep around, ha.

There's a person, I met him god knows how long ago, who I recently started talking to again. Quite possibly the most poetic person I've ever met, the most bluntly honest person I will ever meet. I found, from so long ago. I was lurking around one of his pages the other day, and stumbled across this;

"Cherry Blossom,
Promise me you won't every cry over me.
You are the only one who I wish I could talk to."

and i missed him.
I missed the way we talked, so poetic, all the time. And yet I never felt any pressure to be anything other than myself. Do NOT get me wrong, I'm not saying any of you now do. I'm just saying that, he was unlike anyone I had ever met. So fascinating in every way. Such aesthetic perfection, such insight into everything. I don't remember what happened between us, but over the days we just lost touch.

A few days ago, he IM'd me.
It was a little shocking, and I was slightly taken back by the whole ordeal. Mostly because I couldn't remember what I'd done to ruin whatever relationship we'd had.
I don't know.
If you're reading this, I'm here with open arms, and an open heart.
There's always room for you.


Anyway, I'm hungover.
Hypocrisy at it's best, huh.


breathe in the sunshine,
make it last as the shades fall closed.
don't let the sun set on me,
don't let the stars take over.
the sun casts such a beautiful glow on my skin
such a perfect shine on your life.

Hey, come back to me.

Hey, come back to me,
baby come back to me.

youarebeautiful

The perfection in the most imperfect seeming things, is astounding.

True Beauty.

Beauty (n) A quality or feature that is most effective, gratifying, or telling: The beauty of the venture is that we stand to lose nothing.




I met a girl once. Her name was Kristen, Kristen Nicole. And, upon meeting her, I have to say, all I saw was your typical party girl. She was beautiful. Not necessarily conventional, traditional beauty, but she was beautiful. Light blue eyes, blonde hair, completely original. She wasn't small, but she wore her weight well. Suffice to say, she was just, beautiful. We began to talk a lot, and she frequently came to the house I was living at to party. We'd drink together, end up passed out on floors together, we smoked together a few times, drugged ourselves up. The usual routine. This went on for a while, the house dissolved, people went their separate ways. We didn't talk again for a while, until one day when I came across her at a show in the city.

We got to talking, and became really close. One day, we went to Denny's together for coffee. It was around 3:00 in the afternoon. We got to talking about our lives. We talked about everything, love, religion, sex, everything. At some point, we both began to get tired. I looked at my phone, and it was 5:00 in the morning. So I just went back to her house. We had a couple beers, then fell asleep.

This girl and I became the most amazing friends. She knew everything about me, my past, relationships, family, she knew every freckle on my body, every imperfection, every one of my fears. I spent every single day with her, we'd go to countless shows, worked on building up our company, just lived. Just thinking about her, I can't help but cry, can't help but think about how amazing she was. Kristen was one of the deepest girls I had ever met, with strong views on everything. I remember the day she came back from Cornerstone, and she had a completely new outlook on life. Her life became centered around God, and she was not ashamed that everyone knew. She would tell the world, if she could. She carried this book around with her. In it was every thought she had, drawings, bible verses, quotes from friends, to do lists, everything she came across the meant anything to her, went in the book. I've never met a more devoted, loving, insightful girl in my entire life. Every second I spent with her, I loved just soaking in her words, the love that she radiated. Her strong convictions about life, and love.


She was so accepting of everyone, the first to make conversation to anyone we saw that seemed lonely, or even just lacking in love in their life. She would sit down, tell them about God, show them her book, tell them her whole life story. She was amazing.

Through her life, she went through a stage where she would drink constantly, and it led her to a dark place. Unable to cope with life, she cut her skin so deep that she was in and out of the hospital weekly, with a new gash being stitched up. Going in her room, you could see dried blood everywhere, pillows, on the carpet, even on the book that she so loved. She displayed her scars for the world to see, but it was obvious that it wasn't for attention. After going through that faze, she took it as a lesson. She had a tattoo of a rose on her wrist, and she explained that the scars were merely thorns on her body. They weren't pretty, but they protected her. They let her know, constantly, that no matter what life threw at her, the worst was over. Her God would take care of her. She wanted everyone to know her story, wanted everyone to know that they could make it out alive. She used everything as a lesson, her scars were simply one more tool she could use to help people. One more way that she could show the world that she loved them.

To this day, I am yet to find such an amazing human being, such a compassionate, deep, insightful, beautiful person. I wish that there were more people like her, but maybe that's what makes her so amazing. The fact that she's slowly trying to make the world a better place, in a way that no one else ever has.

Ugh, ugh, & ugh.

I'm stupidddd, and I don't know why I choose to get upset about the weirdest things. Jealous of the worst things to get jealous of. It honestly doesn't even make sense. Fuckin' titss.

?!

Wake up, shy world of emotion, learn to speak to us, learn to sing your morning song. Tell me why you beckon forth so smoothly, let me know what you're thinking when you deny me of my hopes and dreams. Breathe electricity, into your metallic, conductive soul. Crack open dry veins and sing of emotions you've never felt. Tell the world your stories, we're all dying to hear every word you speak. Open doors to lives unlived, make love to the dreams of people you'll never meet. Defy the laws of truth, lie to those who make you feel like life is not worth living. I want to watch you bleed peices of mirrors, I want you to see hints of reflection of who you're becoming. I wish for things to happen, I wouldn't wish the things on my mind upon even my worst enemy. When imperfection is key, when truth is obsolete, thats when your day will end. Come back to life, come back to me and show me what you've wanted to for so long.

Hey, I try.

I hate being tickled, and I hate the thought, and sound, and everything, of fingernails on a peice of paper.


I feel alive. I feel electricity coming to the tip of every finger, and every toe. Sometimes I ask too many questions, sometimes I sing a little too loud.

I wish I had the voice, the poetic skill, to make your heart melt, and your hair curl. I want to be able to grab onto your heart, from a thousand miles away, I want to step into your life and learn to walk a day in your shoes.

I cut open your lungs and found a key.
It was the key to my heart, the key you
breathed in deep so that no one else could
read the scars on my heart,
so that no one else could have a chance to
break in.


i put the key back, and forever it will stay there.

Random thought.

I want to be stranded on a desert island with Stevey for a couple days.
As long as we have a fridge and a laptop.
Yeah, that would be pretty cool.

Lists.

I really like the word clavicle. That's pretty much it on that subject.

Things to do before I die:
- Get married.
- My Riley Joy.
- Travel to Ireland, and Paris.
- Be famous.
- Learn to make better lists.

Things that make me happy:
- Stevey.
- My animals.
- Good music.
- Dancing.
- My phone/texting.
- Steak n' Shake.
- Sex.
- Cigarettes.
- Nakedness.
- I dunno, lots of other things.

Stevey:
A list of miniscule things could never do justice to how the heart feels. How it explodes with happiness, how it breaks with every goodnight. A list can't say "I love you", a list can't say "I would die for you". A list could never express how much I love his words, his thoughts, his antics. Couldn't show any emotion. And when I think of something like this, the only thing possible is just to be flooded with emotion.

Random facts:
- I get cold really easily, and I stay cold for a long time.
- I'm touchy.
- I like being picked up, but hate being surprised.
- I need a car of my own.
'- And a license.
- I hate getting too warm, because it makes me nauseus.
- I don't like it when my dad yells, it makes me cry.
- My eyes hurt.

<3.

What the fuck.

"I didn't invent rainy days,
I just have the best umbrella"

Take a deep breath and listen to me for a few minutes.
This is nothing new, nothing you've never heard before.
Your typical story, typical dead girl found on the side of the road.
Drenched in blood, and dripping dried sweat, beaded and caked onto her skin.
You've seen her before, she was nothing special.
Averagely dressed, moderately nice body, nothing special. Nothing you couldn't
see walking down the streets of any major city.

Nobody expected to find her dead,
nobody expected to find her indsides displayed
across the ditch, nintey miles from her house.

Perhaps she pushed him too far, maybe denied him what he wanted.
Maybe it was nothing more than cold hearted joyride.
Who knows.
I sure as hell don't.

Maybe she would be prom queen, maybe she would be behind the scenes.
No, she wasn't pretty enough, wasn't popular enough to be prom queen.
Maybe she would have done it herself, had he not gotten around to it.
No, she didn't have the guts the be so irrational.
All I know is what was in front of us.

She was average.
Nothing special.
she was going nowhere in life.
and we all knew it.



Bad things happen to good people. And they completely deserve it. I mean come on, what will you earn getting though life by sucking up to people, by kissing peoples' asses? I'll tell you, you'll get a sour taste in your mouth. Pardon the potential gross connection you may have just made. I swear to you, I try to be nice. I try to do the right thing, and stuff. But sorry, it's NOT that easy. I like being illegal, I like being rude and loud and mean. I like to fight, I like to swear and spit and be as unlady like as possible. I don't listen to authority, I fight back. I yell back. Being nice, gets you nothing. Here's what you need to learn. Just find love. Find someone who will accept you for what you are. For me? It's someone full of as much lust, love, passion, and nicotine as I am. It's the one who comes back after countless mistakes, namely one. Its the one who makes life better, it's the one who fucks up my sleeping pattern. I like someone who starts to control my life, someone who knows me inside and out. Knows what makes me tick, and uses it to his advantage. I'll deny it, but I love it when he makes me mad. I love it when he pushes my buttons, and pisses me off. Whatever, maybe it's just me.

I also really like being difficult.
But anyone could tell you that.

I don't like myself, but I'm the most vain person you'll ever meet. I thrive off of making myself beautiful, and soaking in compliments, but I've realized that once they sink too far into my mind, they become nothing. Just shallow words meaning nothing at all. I mean, who's to say that I'm any more or less beautiful than anyone else? So, for someone who puts so much into being beautiful, I know I could never be prom queen, I could never take home any pageant awards, never be Miss Universe, Miss America, hell, Miss Small Town in Missouri. So I don't know why I keep trying so hard. But, I won't stop. I don't know.

"A woman who cannot be ugly is not beautiful." -Karl Kraus

I like to be pushed, I like to be pushed around and told what to do. I want to be something new, a new experience. I want to be what you want me to be, take it or leave it. I want to be beautiful, but not conventionally beautiful. I want to be everything that's impossible to acheive, and prove your standards wrong. I want to learn to like people, too. Because I hate people. I don't like girls, we're bitches, and we ruin lives. I don't like boys they hurt my heart. Thats the good thing about finding someone who loves me. As long as my heart doesnt hurt, then there's one boy who I'll like. I'll stick around. I have nothing more to say, so fuck you.