this is what it means to be loathed

i'm sure we've all made mistakes in our lives, and some pass by like chances that slip away from day to day, but some mistakes act as a marker in your life. some haunt you for what could very well be the rest of your godforsaken days. when you do something wrong, you can apologize and hopefully things will level out and the scales will find that zen-like balance again. but it's when you apologize, and nothing happens...that's when you have to drop down to your scraped knees and pray for something. i have done something terrible, and i fear that i'm only going to keep making these mistakes. and that scares the fuck out of me.

i wonder what hate letters and threats would do to someone who isn't me. i wonder what messages that scream loathesome details and wishes of loneliness and eternal unhappiness would do to someone that doesn't think things through to the smallest detail and act on reason. at this point, i think i could deal with the situation if i were the one who was betrayed. but i'm not. i'm the one who did it, and i have to live with that. i honestly think that my conscience lives inside my heart, and knows when i do something inconsiderate, or even mull it over in this infernal head of mine. it knows when i fuck someone over, do something untrustworthy...and it punishes me.

i would laugh if my life were any more like a movie. i would love to see everyone despise me, and cast glares at me. i would gladly catch it all. throw it.


careful what you wish for.

7x8

So I dig my toes into April
In an attempt to just hold on
While the waves of summer wash away
The sand castles we've been living on
We're left out in the open
Stranded here under the sun
Just to build those sand castles back up
Pack the dirt and fight, or is it run?

La da da da,
Just counting down the days
Twiddling my thumbs
And thinking about the ways,

It could have been.
It should have been.
It's done.

I'm so afraid of what's left
What sits here on my plate
These months I can't seem to stomach
These feelings I can't seem to shake.
I'm killing time for what it is
Exposed and baked under the sun
Coffee shops and long talks
I'm happy cause I'm alone.

and sometimes,

And sometimes when you're on
You're really fuckin' on
And your friends they sing along
And they love you
But the lows are so extreme
That the good seems fuckin' cheap
And it teases you for weeks in its absence
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
And you'll be smarter
And more grown up and a better daughter or son
And a real good friend
And you'll be awake
You'll be alert
You'll be positive though it hurts
And you'll laugh and embrace all your friends
And you'll be a real good listener
You'll be honest
You'll be brave
You'll be handsome and you'll be beautiful
You'll be happy

and i drove.

i left school today to come home and take pills for my aching sore of a mouth. i left the house
and i drove.
i hopped in my '96 Honda Accord and hooked up my iPhone to act as an iPod like i always do. i threw it in reverse and checked for cars coming up the street or turning wildly around the corner. they always come around that corner like they're Speed Racer or something.

drive.

soon enough i'm barreling over grand st. and wouldn't you know it, the big blue diamond encrusted mass of salty water breaks over the hill. it splashes onto my eyes like the bright piece of jewelery glimmering over eastern snowy mountain tops. this is a sight i thought i would come to miss mere days ago. the way things are going though, it seems i'll be sticking around the sunbathed little state a little while longer.
a transfer program.
it would save us all money. i could take two years of Berklee certified classes here at Fullerton. but the idea of attending school there makes my stomach churn as if the heartbreak wasn't enough. it may be childish of me, but i don't want to go there. i want to go to Berklee. don't we all deserve to unleash our inner child every now and again?
i want to pout

scream
cry
run
sleep
die

"life isn't fair", they say. that is something that i've learned over the years, but that doesn't stop me from wanting otherwise. the next Berklee audition is in December, which means i would have to take summer school classes to fully catch up on what i need to learn in time. sometimes i think it's a shame i'm not more of a fighter. i could just join the army and be shipped in a box labled "handle with care". "this side up" it would say with the arrows pointing toward the ceiling of that stupid cargo jet.
sometimes when i unload my belongings from the '96 Honda Accord, and struggle with my metal things on metal rings, and open the door, and toss it all on the ground or the table... i see my cat. when those big ignorant eyes stare back at mine, i can't help but wish i was him.

nothing to worry about. people feed me. people bathe me. i bathe myself. people play with me. all i have to do is speak and they talk back to me. i don't even have to use words they understand. lie around belly up in the sun. smell this and that and just sleep for eternity.
that's what i could use. i could use some sleeping for eternity.
let's sleep.