Sunday, January 06, 2008

 

01.06.08-01.31.08

I saw her tonight, although only maybe once and half for less than I would have liked...

but I haven't smiled inside like that in a while.

She seemed busy, perturbed even...

but she looked so lovely.

Not gonna lie.

I am being a fackin' punkassbitch right now. Or a bitchasspunk.

It's all relative.

DJ Opus' slow jam megamix on constant rotation?!

Butterflies?!

WTF, mate? What the hell is wrong with me?

I was perusing my desk today, looking for something and I found my one bottle of cologne.

I haven't... worn? ...sprayed? ...used it in a long time.

Guess what it's called?

BOSS.

Hahaha... Life, you're a clever li'l bastard, aren't you?

Oh-- the paper's here!

I'm behind on something that's not academically related. I just know it.

I can feel it.

I'm so glad that I didn't have to go home this weekend for those reasons.

That's one bridge burned.

Something I haven't done in years.

I've never been the type to bury something for good.

Have you ever woken up with your shirt on backwards?

You wake up and everything's the same, just how you left it.

But something just doesn't feel right?

I'm in this funk and I don't know what it is.

But I do know that I miss her.

I miss her when I go to sleep at night.

I miss her when I wake up.

I miss her when I go for a walk.

I miss her during class.

I miss her when jamming to music.

I miss her all the time.

I miss her when she's next to me.

So, why did my walls throw themselves up all of a sudden?

I don't think it's reluctance on behalf of my mental defenses.

It's this funk, man.

What is with this FUNK?

It is annoying me like no other.

I read through my yearbook again tonight.

Why do I need these reminders?

Why can't things be at that tilted equilibrium all the time?

This is it.

The last thing. The last time.

Then I'm done.

How I treat you is merely a reflection of the way you act.

So, don't push it.

I'm not happy with my choreo.

If only I had ample time to bust out something.

It's hard being alone on this island.

But that's my bad?



"I didn't even realize you knew what a sad face was."

Yesterday cracked open my safe and an onslaught of memories kept me up and continued to linger even after I woke up... at 5 in the PM.

It amazes me how selfish society and the individual can be.

There were two cars in front of us.

They just took off.

They took off, knowing that an accident had just occurred, that there was that potential chance that someone might seriously be injured.

But it wasn't their problem.

They just took off.

My heart stopped beating about roughly 12 hours ago.

It was fine before, maybe beating at a higher rate than it should be. I was in such a good groove, in the mind set that nothing could get me down, smiles abounding.

Now I fear that I'm going to start distancing myself from everyone.

More importantly, from her, as I'm going to have to get a handle on my emotions after what happened today.

It's already begun.

Watch as this disconnection starts to happen.

But only for a little while.

I've been through this before. It'll pass.

But it's never easy.

It's scary how I'll internalize it all.

It's even scarier how my mind will immediately crystalize in order to prep for the outcome of anything.

But I was ready to kill or to push or to lift or to do God knows what else I would have needed to do.

Relief.

What a relief it was to see them, despite the dispersive scramble and panic.

But I can't get the scenario out of my mind.

The looks on their faces.

The consternation.

It's something you never really want to see or forget once you have.

Refund?

I don't give a shit.

That is the furthest thing from my mind.

I would have gladly paid more for your safety and for the event to have never occurred.

I shot myself in the foot. I know I did.

Here's to hoping.

I can tell they're from San Marcos if they call me "Ryanmose" and not just "Ryan."

I might get a little carried away...

but I love the stage. It's one of the few places where I feel completely comfortable.

Things I would like to do in the rain: puddle jump and run around in it, dance and groove in it under the moonlight, sing outside your window in it without an umbrella or even a sweater.

I would like to do those things.

I wouldn't mind being sick, but the rest of the stuff on my agenda are dependent on my health.

So, boo.

I'm going to have to get drawn soon.

I haven't told anyone, but...

Nevermind.

That's not the way I think.

You know what I like?

Having a really crappy rough draft or unfinished exhibition.

Then I wait.

Then, when that push comes to shove, I start the crack.

I burst.

I bust out.

And it's beautiful.

The bar has been set so low, no one expects or is ready for that onslaught of flow.

And in the end, they're glad that they're soaking wet.

It's not really about impressing them.

It's their expressions on their faces.

They weren't expecting something of that caliber.

What's even better?

I just blew their minds.

And there's nothing they could have done about it.

I was complimented on my writing.

By someone who's published, who's accredited.

Affirmation.

So, he's found his way out of the muck.

The happiness experienced cannot even be put into words.

The greatest elations I've ever known: a breakthrough in another's life, a random act of aid for a stranger and making a significant other's day.

If I can constantly surround myself by these instances, I think I'll be set.

I look back on how angry I was back then and the environment that I was in.

I still remember the moment that all changed, the cessation of my externalizing it.

I think back on how little I gained and how much I lost and the potential that I'll never be able to reclaim.

It changed situations, but it never truly alleviated all my troubles.

The rage was like energy-- never to be created nor destroyed, just transferred.

The moment when I began to internalize it and siphon it through other methods of expression and relief...

It has made all the difference in my life.

Do you know something I don't?

"You've got a serious step."

Dance your way into oblivion.

This... is not my couch?

My arms spring out with an intensity unknown to me before.

It takes a lot of restraint on my part.

I guess I said a name aloud while I was sleeping.

They asked me who it was.

I stay up later sometimes, 'cause I know her sleeping pattern resembles mine.

Maybe she'll sign, maybe she won't, but I stave off sleep. That chance is more than enough.

Even if she just signs on to put up an away message about how she's going to sleep and the only exchange is that of our G*nights.

She's worth falling asleep in class for.

Or skipping it because I've overslept.

Again.

Waiting and thinking of her.

Apparently, everyone but me knows what's best for me?

Spit game?

What are we? In high school?

Soft hands.

It's definite.

I'm drawn to her.

I find that I really have to try when leaving her side or ending a conversation with her.

It's a little unfair.

I would take more than bullets for her.

I'm making some necessary changes.

Things need to get taken care of before I can continue on with anything else.

It's my turn to be selfish.

My, my, my... I never get nervous.

But I did.

And it was over nothing.

Okay, maybe not over nothing, but definitely over something that most would consider minute or mundane.

I've been infected by a virus and it is overriding my operating system.

Thoughts spring up like pop-ups and I'm not quick enough to dismiss them all.

But all these sweet thoughts and feelings hold no value if they aren't expressed.

Mental note: don't be pushing yourself too hard, dawg.

My body hates me at the moment.

My apologies, body. I love you. You know I do.

We're a winning team. Don't worry.

You'll recover and we'll again be on top, son!

Keep your head up.

So, I keep it to myself.

'Cause that's what I do with everyone minus the ones that are in my inner-most circle.

And I'm talking inner-most circle here.

No, not that inner-most circle. Get your head out of the gutter.

I've been drawing the same things lately, singing only a small rotations of song.

I can't wait until I can open fire.

But Life, you know? It has a freakin' gatling gun.

And it's the only thing keeping distance between me and where I wanna be.

Her.

=-=-=

Articulation failing.

And in the middle of the torrent of thoughts that whirl inside my head, an anchoring thought holds me down.

That familiar blanket of calm enshrouds me.

I smile and I drift into the dreams that only a romantic can conjure up.

She's become something of my Nyquil.

=-=-=

Comfort.

Especially in her presence.

Warmth. Ease. Tranquility.

I get lost in it, almost meditative.

Everything dissipates and I find myself in a relaxed serenity.

And that smile...

I melt.

I become another entity in her welcoming ocean, basking in her joyous waters of an unfathomable depth.

...But I'm still tethered to the docks.

Knives will not cut such a mental ballast.

Just cut, dammit.

Cut.

Docking out...
-Ryan : power overwhelming

Ryan posted this at 11:53 PM.