Amanda Fucking Palmer – “Another Year”

I tried to Fall in it again.
my Friends took bets and disappeared;
they mime their sighing violins,
I think I’ll wait another year.

I want my chest pressed to Your chest.
my nervous systems interfere.
ten or eleven months have passed;
I think I’ll wait another year.

this weather turns my tricks to rust.
I am a lousy engineer.
the Winter makes things hard enough.
I think I’ll wait another year.

plus I’m only twenty-six [thirty-two] years old;
my grandma died at eighty-three.
that’s lots of time if I don’t smoke.
I think I’ll wait another year.

I’m not as callous as you think.
I barely breath when You are near.
it’s not as bad when I don’t Drink.
I think I’ll wait another year.

I have my new Bill Hicks CD.
I have my Friends and my career.
I’m getting smaller by degrees.
You said you’d help me Disappear;
but that could take forever .


I think I’ll wait another year.
it’ll be the best year ever.
I think I’ll wait another year.
can’t we just wait together?
You bring the smokes, I’ll bring the beer.
I think I’ll wait another year.

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can’t do this

I CAN’T DO THIS.

I’m tired of the NOISE.  so tired of THE LOUD-ASS NOISE THAT FUCKING ECHOES IN  YOUR GODDAMN HEART.  IN YOUR FUCKING MIND.

We throw tantrums like parties.
We’re not happy ’til everyone knows we’re SICK.
And that’s just how we like it.
We’ve hurt Bad enough, right?  We’ve Earned it.
Don’t tell the others, but it’s all getting old.
you can hear It.  It Breathes against you.  It Breathes in spite of you.  you are merely a Pawn in Its creation.
I mean, how many more times must our stories be told?
And being lonely’s only fun in a group;
It sort of loses it’s charm when it’s true.
you can’t do anything against its noise and chaos and pain and hate and loudness and rage and anxiety and compulsions and noise and paranoia and eating disorders and thoughts and opinions and concerns and just everything.  there is too much.  and the Mind never stops.  NEVER STOPS.
So now you know all my secrets.
I want out; I know I don’t need this.
Can you find me friends that don’t rank me on what I’ve been through?
The more battle scars, the more attention it gets you.
Don’t tell the others, but it’s all getting old.
but I Like it; rather I  Need it.  I hold on to it.  I don’t move past it.  because I’m scared about what’s beyond me, what’s More than me, what is -Without Me-.
I meant it when I said,
“I wanna get well! I wanna get well!”
Are the rest of you so content?
Stay where you are, but it hurts like hell.
And I’m sure it’s fun at first;
test your pulse, and check your vitals.
If it’s only a Game, you lost me.
I quit it with the Suicidal Recital.

shit.  I can’t even pretend I know the original direction this post was going in…..
I was lost.  hopeless.  depressed.  so many of those Old and Comforting Feelings I had.  but Brian suggested I Write instead of mope.  Write.  how often do I Write anymore?  and what of that which I Write even matters anymore?  I mean, none of it really.  at least back then, it was the Truth as per a small child whose life was important.  now I’m adult who’s thrown off on her own and matters not.
Yeah, we should’ve known it would End this way.
What did you expect? — pretend it all Away?
And all we’ve got left is a sorry pile of hearts.
I’m getting out — gonna write myself a new Start.
Come on, dry your eyes, meet me on the other side.
Run as fast as you can, and we’ll make it out alive.
We know better now; we don’t have to live like This.
Go tell them all we don’t have to live like This.

SURPRISE ME.

let me go.
let me FREE.

https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/Z9fGKx7yzF4?rel=0

let me not wake tomorrow.

I’m tired of this Battle again.

it’s the same War I’ve been fighting for so long.

LET ME GO!!!

 

“let their tiny feathers fill disappointment”

for those of us who are both pet-owners and are ready to Quit…. this is just a reminder.

another cracked southern belle

why don’t you ever want to play?
I’m tired of this piece of string.
you sleep as much as I do now,
and you don’t eat much of anything.
I don’t know who you’re talking to;
I made a search through every room,
but all I found was dust that moved
in shadows of the afternoon.

and listen,
about those bitter songs you sing —
they’re not helping anything;
they won’t make you strong.

so we should open up the house,
invite the tabby two doors down.
you could ask your sister, if
she doesn’t bring her basset hound.
ask the things you shouldn’t miss:
tape-hiss and the Modern Man,
the Cold War and card catalogues
to come and join us if they can
for girly drinks and parlor games.
we’ll pass around the easy lie
of absolutely no regrets.
and later maybe you could try
to let your losses…

View original post 108 more words

a2z: Ffff

 

I couldn’t do it; I couldn’t decide.  I started this entry several times, focusing on different words and concepts each time.  the letter “F” has a lot of personal meaning to me.  it’s been literally carved into my skin more times than I can count.  there is no mere single word I can choose.  (not even “fuck”, lol.)

so instead, we’re doing this….

 

April 2015’s Blogging A to Z:
Ffff

 

Feelings:  i am overwhelmed with these emotions and reactions that i cannot seem to control, do not seem to understand.
i feel it all. / numb to nothing, / i feel it all. / standing in my own, / cut and bleeding, / i feel it all.

Freedom:  this often causes me to feel like i’m trapped in my life, in this shell and these expectations.
some days aren’t yours at all. / they come and go / as if they’re someone else’s days. / they come and leave you behind someone else’s face, / and it’s harsher than yours / and colder than yours.

Flee:  i want to escape the barriers of this existence, the pain inside my mind.
i was happy in the haze of a drunken hour. / but heaven knows I’m miserable now. / “you’ve been the house too long,” she said. / and i naturally fled.

Forget:  i want to let go of my past and start anew.
sometimes i remember the darkness of my past / bringing back these memories i wish i didn’t have. / sometimes i think of letting go and never looking back, / and never moving forward so there’d never be a past.

Force:  i want to be stronger and move on, to improve and change.
reckon i’ll close the door, / pull down the curtains, stay close to the floor. / mercy is for the weak; we do not train to be merciful here. / mercy is everything I fear; we do not train to see His mercy here.

Future:  but i’m terrified of what lies ahead.
in the wastelands of today — / when tomorrow disappears, / when the Future slips away, / and your hope turns into fear / in the wastelands of today.

Fear:  this apprehension and anxiety controls so much of me, so many of my decisions; and it keeps me trapped.
time is shorter than you know. / i know the light is blinding to the naked eye. / so why don’t you take steps away from being alone? / i swear, it’s not too late for you. / so come on down, / what are you so afraid of?

Failure:  because I know i’ll just fuck something up again; i know that i’ll never be “good enough” for myself.
and i will be someone i admire. / and it’s funny how i imagined / that i could be that person now. / but that’s not what i want; / but that’s what i wanted. / and i’d be giving up somehow. / how strange to see / that i don’t wanna be the person that i want to be.

Fake:  but I try anyway; i pretend, and most people buy it.
but you’ll fight, and you’ll make it through. / you’ll Fake it if you have to. / and you’ll show up for work with a smile. / you’ll be better, you’ll be smarter, / and more grown up, and a better daughter.

Family:  even the ones i love the most believe the lies that i’m okay and i’ll make it out alright.
i cannot / run from my Family. / they’re hiding inside me, / corpses on ice. / come in if you’d like. / but just don’t tell my Family; / they’d never Forgive me. / they say that I’m crazy.

Following instructions:  that i’m a good girl, that i am responsible, and that i do as i should.
but lately you’ve been painting on the walls / with a black fire you lit, / and it’s a lie, / and i hate it. / but still you think it’s you, / so you keep it.

Fuck-up:  but none of these facades will change what i truely am.
but i’m / nothing special. I’m / not unique. I / have many secrets, and I / eat the weak.

Falling:  and i know i will continue on in this downward spiral of self-hate and disappoint.
you are the wind, the flood, and the flame. / nothing here can get in your way. / you’ve come too far to care what they say. / now you’re the only thing in your way.

Fly away:  until i finally just quit…
the pills, the windowsill, / razor blade, great escape. / so lonely, the feeling, / the slipping, the bleeding. / good lord, where are you found?

 

Ffff

“Caligula would have blushed”

I’m [broken].  Do you get that on any level?  You want me to be normal, and I’m never going to be.

~ Emma, Red Band Society

 

I’m tired, man.  I’m getting really exhausted.  how hard does a person how to fight to live, to wake up?

I was getting dressed this morning.  I put on my bra.  and then I started to put on my pants.  I remembered that with these pants, I actually had to wear underwear (I often go commando) due to comfort reasons; I realised this after the pants were already halfway on.  so that meant I had to undo what I just did, put on underwear, then redo it all over again.

I didn’t have that in me.  I took the pants off and hid under the covers in bed.  I stayed there a good seven or so minutes, because even the prospect of fucking getting dressed was too much for me to handle.

but eventually, I managed.  I got out of bed; I put on clothes; I went to the doctor’s; I went to work; I’m (kinda) doing my job.  and then tonight, I’ll go home; I’ll go to rehab; I’ll play nice; I’ll go home; I’ll pretend to be alive inside; and I’ll cry myself to sleep, again.

I was happy in the haze of a drunken hour;
but heaven knows I’m miserable now.
two lovers entwined, pass me by;
and heaven knows I’m miserable now.
I was looking for a job, and then I found a job;
and heaven knows I’m miserable now.

while merely brushing my teeth last night, while lying in bed afterwards, even when I awoke this morning — I was pondering what tactics would work.  I’d throw pills up; I don’t own a gun; I’d paralyze myself before snapping my neck; I shake too much to cut a straight line.

I suppose carbon monoxide is a maybe; sneak out in the middle of night when no one is paying attention to a running car.  also jumping; that would actually be pleasant; but messy for whoever has to deal with it.

what she asked of me at the end of the day,
Caligula would have blushed.
“you’ve been the House too long”, she said;
and I naturally fled.

a student told me about a childhood friend of his who killed himself Monday.  then he told me how his own father was anti-suicide, calling those who kill themselves cowards.

I got up on my high horse and informed the student that sometimes people suffer so much that finally taking control of their own life is one of the strongest and bravest things they could ever do.  I believe that.  I strongly believe that.

why do I have to be alive for you?  you just want what’s best for me, right?  you want me to stop hurting, to be happy?  this is not happiness; this is pain, this is sorrow, this is longing, and this is regret.  this is despair, hopeless, and self-hatred.  happiness would be ceasing to exist; that would be freedom.

but instead, you not only ask me to stay alive for you, but to also live as you’d like me to, do as you want me to.

so you don’t really want me alive; you just want my life.

in my life,
why do I smile
at people who I’d much rather kick in the eye?

I’m not doing it anytime soon; don’t worry.  the holidays are a horrible time to do this, as it is selfish; it ruins the holiday season for the families.  but I do think I’ll start making my plan.  I seek out proper tools or methods; I’ll find a good location, a good approach.  that way, after all this holiday bullshit is over, after I’ve stayed alive long enough for everyone else, I can make a decision for myself.

in the meantime, I’ll play nice.

after the interactions I’ve had with my counselor this week (I need to write about that later), I’m ready to quit.  I’ll keep aiming for sobriety, sure.  but not because I want it; rather, I’m in the mindset that I need it.

I need it to keep people off my back.
I need it to have people believe I’m getting better.

lyrics courtesy of The Smiths's "Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now"

“Don’t Deconstruct”

I don’t know.  I don’t know what to do.  I’m so tired.  this is all so exhausting.  I don’t feel like I’m getting any better; I just feel like I’ve been stripped of one of my coping mechanisms.

I took a hydrocodone Friday night just to calm my mind.  I took stuff tonight too — some old anti-depressants (that won’t actually do anything with just one dose, but hey, I like my placebo effects).  I just need to stop thinking, to stop feeling … even if only for a few hours.

I don’t really feel happiness or joy or peace, like everyone in Group talks about.  they talk about getting a sense of balance and calmness.  fuck that.  my emotions these last few weeks run on only three scales:  anger, apathy, and depression.

something is changing inside of me;
colors seem darker in light.
and I don’t know what that means,
but it’s not a good sign.
you can just add them up, then you could memorize prehistoric bones
all of those old memories, you can push them out and prep yourself for brand
new Information.

I’m so angry all the time.  pissed at everyone, and everything.  and every additional day without alcohol only makes it worse.  not the lack of actual liquor, but the fact that I can’t have it.  that yet again, someone else is in Control of my life.  I get angry at not being able to have my evenings to myself.  I start my day for work around 6am, and I don’t have free time until 9m when I get home — at which point I have to take my first sleep medication.  what. the righteous. fuck.  and now rehab is telling me I have to go to outside AA meetings on both Saturday and Sunday.  WHEN THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO HAVE ME TIME?  additionally so, when the fuck am I supposed to grade the essays for my second job?!?!  I mean, seriously — what the hell?

and then this whole interlock bullshit.  I get so angry everytime I have to start my car.  I have fucking asthma.  I can hardly breathe like a normal person as is, and now I’m expected to breathe into and out of a machine at a certain strength for nigh 30 seconds.  I had trouble with my C-PAP which helps me breathe; this makes it more difficult.  fuck this shit.

don’t deconstruct,
and then fill me in;
I’m not
that basic, I swear.
I’ve had enough
of breakdowns and diagrams.

eventually, I get so fucking angry, that to keep from breaking things (or myself), I have to stop caring; I just become apathetic.  I just stop giving a fuck about anything.  because caring pisses me off; so we just won’t care about anything.

“where do you wanna eat, James?”
“I don’t give a fuck.  I don’t even fucking care if I ever eat again.”  “I don’t care if I ever watch a movie again.”  “I think I may just take some sleeping pills; fuck the rest of the day.”

just thinking about making a decision starts to make me tired.  so I resort to complete apathy.  I just stop fucking caring.

judging from picture books, apparently heaven is a partly
cloudy place.
and if the sky opened up, and they let you in and gave you
a formal invitation,
would you go?

from which point, I get depressed.  the idea that I will never again be truly Happy or at Peace.  I fight off tears (I still never did really cry about the whole DUI thing), I feign apathy to Brian and those around me, so as not to let on just how bad it really is.

I mean, just the notion that I will cycle between those two phases of anger and apathy forever only adds a third one: depression.  I hopeless.  completely, utterly hopeless — a state of lacking any and all Hope.  it’s getting really bad.

you can work from Home.

the last item on the questionnaire we have to fill out for rehab Group is about suicidal idealizations, thoughts, plans, or attempts.  I answer everytime “just the usual thoughts and desires; no plans or attempts”.  today, it was “heightened thoughts and desires”.

I’m tired of being only angry, apathetic, or depressed.  it’s exhausting.  and it sure as hell isn’t worth it.

Sia – “Breathe Me”

Sia – “Breathe Me”

 help,
I have done it again.
I
have been here many times before
hurt
myself again today.
and
the worst part is there’s no one else to blame.

be my friend.
hold me, wrap me up;
unfold me.
I am small
and needy.
warm me up,
and breathe me.

ouch,
I have lost myself again.
lost
myself, and I am nowhere to be found,
yeah,
I think that I might break.
I’ve lost
myself again, and I,
I feel unsafe.

be my friend.
hold me, wrap me up;
unfold me.
I am small
and needy.
warm me up,
and breathe me.

be my friend.
hold me, wrap me up;
unfold me.
I am small
and needy.
warm me up,
and breathe me.