killing it with close inspection. killing it can only make it worse, it sort of makes it breed

i’m avoiding my mom. haven’t talked to her or even seen her since she came home. what’s the point? she’s not going to apologize, and i’m not going to apologize. not this time. i always end up apologizing to people just to get rid of the whole situation. i take the blame. i remember when i was little, and i learned the word scapegoat. i remember thinking, ‘that’s me’. i just let the blame rain down on me. i was once literally told that i had ruined christmas. lolol. and i was what, 12? and i believed it for the longest time, that i was the bad kid, the troubled child. fuck, i still half believe it. and now i’m the bad adult, the troubled adult. i miss being a troubled child. no….. i don’t. back then when people told me what i was, i believed them. no matter how terrible or contrary to reality it was. and although their words still echo through my head forever, i’m believing the words less and less.

still, i have that stupid feeling where tears are just beneath the surface. like if anyone asked me if i was okay, i would start bawling. i am okay though. i’m totally okay. this too shall pass.

i’ve never seen the desert before, to be so close to nothing

this one’s a doozy.

it just hit me like a truck while i was trying to fall asleep the other night: i wish i had killed my self years ago. i’ve wasted so much time on earth. i used to think i could be a different person if i was just in a different place. but i’ve lived long enough, and i’ve travelled far enough that i know i will never be able to change.

lol i will never be able to put my family through my suicide tho.

yet i can’t stop thinking about it when each day ends. i’m just tired, i tell myself each night at 1am. do you ever get so tired that suicide seems like the only option. lol i can sleep when i’m dead.

i will probably not kill myself. so who the fuck cares how much pain i am in, right?

sticks and stones will break my bones but words will never hurt, and all that shit, right?

i broke down in the doctor’s office crying when the doc asked if i was okay, after i filled out the stupid depression questionnaire.

i just feel trapped, i told her.

and i do. i feel like a pathetic little animal. like i would rather chew off my own leg than live here. lol.

i love how everyone is okay with how much my life feels like hell, as long as i don’t kill myself and make them feel bad. it isn’t about me, it’s all about them. like people are always saying there are worse things than death, but they don’t believe it. people will say anything to me, all the lies, as long as i don’t make that final step off the edge.

as an abrupt change of subject, we ate indian food after the doctor. it was good and spicy. lol my mom is so oblivious to everything, good for her. she thinks today was a good day.

i would do anything to let everyone remain oblivious in my life. but my resolve is crumbling. i don’t know how much i can keep this shit up. i need to speak to two of my profs and ask them for some sort of leniency for my shit attendance and school-work ethic. the other one is the religion one and since i’m getting more than 100% in that class currently, i’m not too worried.

okay for now i’m done venting to myself. what a great way to end the day: whining.

and if love is a drug, i don’t want it, because i don’t have any self control

it’s midnight and i’m in the basement because it’s thundering a tiny bit and lucy is afraid.

i had the usual dream that has become rather unusual as my mind tries to buck away from its habitual obsessions to focus on new ones. the old ones, the old dreams are rare now, and made more precious because of it. also more poisonous.

i’m walking through a party, because i know you’re there. but you’ve left. i look everywhere, and you’re gone. you just left the room. you just turned the corner. it’s like a maze of other people smiling and laughing, and me, alone, looking for you. this time i don’t wind up outside in the snow and stars, the dream doesn’t reach this sad crescendo. it just ends with me realizing you’re not there, not anywhere near me.

the dream is a bit on the nose, lol. real life occasionally mirrors it. i find myself at get-togethers, too afraid to be obvious, to ask if you’re there. so i just wander, looking for you..and of course you’re never there. you’re somewhere else, living a different life. i guess i have to accept that.

the last time i saw you i was a different person with a different agenda, a different heart, a different mind. i didn’t know much about anything outside myself. i don’t even know who you are anymore, and i don’t know who, or how, to ask. i don’t even know why i held on to you in my mind, why i ever found comfort in thoughts of star-crossed love, brought to fruition. that path is gone. it’s dead, with all the others. i guess my mind just hasn’t caught up to reality, which is definitely a theme brought up in my life over and over.

sometimes i feel as though i don’t belong in reality anyway. i’ve spent some time apart and i don’t think it lives up to the hype. oh well. as everyone in my life keeps saying, it is what it is. and there is something so final and concrete about that, that i wanna fight it, because honestly that’s my place, i think, fighting things, ideas, concepts, truths. i sometimes just want to ignore the truth so i don’t have to fight it or accept it fully, but that never works for long. something always reminds me of you and i’m back on the stupid, gaudy, rococo train of thought that i’m pretty sure is love, and though everyone’s always spouting on about it, it is the saddest, most futile thing i’ve ever witnessed myself engaging in. so, as some wise, eloquent, probably long dead person said, that sucks.

and unfortunately i’ve found myself agreeing with the naysayers.

i’m here, and you’re merely a gesture in some vague direction to me. that’s how far apart we are, in body and mind. so yeah, sarah, give up, give in. this idea you hold is dead and you’re just sadly, obstinately oblivious to it half the time. and the other half you’re in mourning for it. just let go.

it is what it is.

have you ever had the feeling when you just don’t wanna breathe


IMB_DsInOV

don’t try to be anything basically. skill or creativity. just cuz you’re unique doesn’t mean you’re useful. just because something requires skill doesn’t mean it’s worth doing. that’s like everything. let’s all just lie in the grass and die. oh wait the grass is dead too? dry cold and scratchy? well might as well do whatever, live however, ’cause we’re all just kind of stuck on this marble, whether we know it or not.

an unknown bass jolts around me. i’m listening to an unrelated song through earbuds. im on my way to dell rapids. another hour? another hour. i’m runnin on coffee still. it’s ’bout 10:45pm.

whenever i’m confronted with a new instance of waiting i realize i could wait forever, that in fact I’ve been waiting all along.

a night landscape pair of eyes, all darkness and stupid stumbling in them. a feeling of fear, wanting to hide in some light.

dressed in noncommittal shades of grey, under a blush pink parka. A shirt with a feline grim reaper: ‘meow you must die’ swirling around it.

staring into the abyss of the sky. a spotlight glances dimly off the clouds. looking for a god? none to be found.

the way to meet in avoca was nice. once there, me and brent ate at a diner. i had a veggie omelette, no mushrooms. he had a slice of pie. then like forever later my dad, liz and thomas showed up. and the rest is basically just as mundane. greetings, farewells, and shivering in the cold. then leaving, and more stupid road.

molly finally settled down. their dog, a puggle. she spent an hour looking up at me, whining. she loves seeing people she hasn’t seen in a while.  dumb adoration, returned. i was actually a little worried about her she was so beside herself.

so my cousin’s car accident was apparently pretty bad. she swerved to miss a deer. they always say to just hit it if you have to, that it won’t be as bad for you. how do you judge if you have to tho? i’d probs swerve, in the moment, every time. im dumb like that. nichole was too this time. the truck rolled three times. she’s lucky to be alive. she will probably be in the hospital another several weeks. life is weird in the way it’s a complete bitch sometimes. the deer has not been heard from.

lol molly is back to whining at me.

and we are suddenly there.

grandma’s dogs patty and bella greet us with their barks. patty is a sleek grey weimaraner, bella is a black lab, pitbull mix. they’re both strays that wandered into my grandma’s life, so i’m basically guessing on bella’s heritage. though patty has the typical nervous, taut disposition of a weimeraner, because she is one. she’s so attached to my grandma, it’s eerie.

my grandma seems as ever-moving, busy as always. my grandpa looks like he is fading, bleeding color, seemingly unnoticed by everyone around him. i’m not being callously poetic, looking at him makes me feel deeply sad. his oxygen can be heard hissing, “breathing”, throughout the house.

okay.

it’s about 1:20 in the morn’. i’m done, i’m going to bed. i will have the designated “front bedroom”, called so because it is at the front of the house. it’s just like being a child again except my nerves are buzzing and i have heartburn.

all i’ve forgotten to take from home are face wipes, which is a pain but liveable. i’m brushing my teeth, washing my face the old fashioned way, and going to bed. well actually i’ll probs wait til everyone else is in bed, then sneak around. i feel weirdly shy and kind of uneasy. so it’s a typical 1:30 in the morning for me, really.

 

music is my dead end, music’s my imaginary friend

the god of small things bookity-book is coming to a close. no spoilers here.

class is a few weeks from being done. i’m not complaining. it’s been a difficult semester to stay engaged in, despite liking the classes and wanting to succeed. i just couldn’t, completely. ohs wells. c’est la vie. it is what it is. just accept it and move on.

i’m not sure what i’m gonna be doing for xmas. i haven’t heard from my dad. lol, i guess i haven’t called him either. so i might be going to lawrence, might be staying here. probably staying here. i wish i could go to my dad’s and stay there for like a week, but i would regret it once i got there. i just don’t know how to fit into their family. the dynamic is all off with me there. like they fight too much, argue about stupid things. i hate it. i need harmony. thomas is able to ignore it pretty well, because he is cooped up in his room playing dota or whatever the kids are up to these days. i don’t know.

plus i just have crap i have to deal with here. i’m a mess, literally and figuratively.

i’m mad about everything deep down. just plain angry. and when i’m mad, i cry. talk about emotional unintelligence.

i’ve been trying to make friends at school, playing the classic sarah jokester persona. where everything’s entertaining, life is a farce. it works surprisingly well. but i’m a sucker at committing. once we’re facebook friends, i’m unlikely to make direct contact ever again. lol, i’ll like your status, but i won’t physically talk to you ever again. unless i run into you, accidentally. then i’ll be delighted. life is full of happy accidents. most people are forgettable to me, while remaining completely unforgettable. i choose to forget, i make myself forget. because i just assume most people (all people) don’t care about me as much as i care about them. the lie i tell myself is that i don’t care, that i actually hate people. but most of them, i like. but deep down i’m that invisible little girl still. so i close my eyes in kind, and i don’t see them either.

i don’t wanna let this dark companion go

i just want peace and harmony. kinda hard in this world. peace and harmony are things people invented to keep complacent. something to hope for. living for the weekend, and all that.

i’m not doing well. i just keep reaching for things that aren’t there. a strength i don’t have. an understanding i don’t possess.

i keep self-medicating, self-censoring. don’t want the crazy to slip out. i want help, but don’t wanna be a burden to my family. plus i’m always afraid of people knowing i need help. like they will think less of me, or worse, they just won’t care.

i just want to sleep all the time, i’m obsessed with the idea of being asleep while awake. while awake i also do practically nothing, struggling to focus on studying or anything, really.

then i sleep like shit. last night it felt like every time i tossed or turned, i woke up.

i have this picture by my desk, it’s called hope, by george frederic watts. it’s supposedly the same one nelson mandela had in his cell. it’s a simple symbolist painting, and though i usually prefer pretty abstract shapes to actual meaning, i like this one. it’s a blind woman listening to the last string of a lyre. its me, lol. so dramatic, yea, as always. but it’s what i feel. how could i let go of my emotions, even when they’re ridiculous?

i feel like i’m on the last string. and the sound is starting to ring out hollow.

i don’t have enough focus anymore to center in on the little important details. i don’t know what to do. i’m lost, i’m alone. but i don’t think anyone can help me, but me anyway, so i guess i have what i need.

 

 

 

 

an evolution, the only way i can explain anything

it’s around 8am. i’ve been awake since 5. i was going to sleep in but really couldn’t, thanks to lucy. so i woke up, fed her, and then brent walked her. when she came back in, i said bye to brent (he went to work). i brought luce upstairs, intending to go back to sleep for a couple of hours.

i was just settling in when i heard a crash of something glass outside my door. it was the light above the stairs. the covering fell off rather weird and randomly, hit the banister, and shattered all over the stairs. so of course i shooed the stupid cats away from the shards and picked up the larger pieces and vacuumed the stairs and the room below of the smaller pieces. and now i’m still awake, down on the couch. the cats are reappearing after the terror of the vacuum.

if i was the type to say it was eerie, tho, it was eerie. why did the light covering fall? i think i have just discovered the power gravity has over us, hahaha. one minute we’re drifting asleep, the next we’re staring at the sharp, shattered remains of our peaceful slumber.

ugh the las vegas shooting has me annoyed by people’s (american people’s) weird fetish-level sentimentality about guns. brent compared the banning of the sale of a device that increases rate of fire (the bump stock thing), to the banning of cars because of drunk drivers. lol wat????? how is that all similar. last time i checked, BRENTON, automatic weapons didn’t have much use outside of spraying bullets into crowds. cars are a necessary evil in today’s everyday, civvie world. they, you know, help us get from point A to point B. automatic weapons, not so much.

he isn’t even interested in guns, so i don’t fucking get it.. he’s just dumb, i tell myself. not bad or evil or whatever. not his fault. he was in a car accident when he was younger. traumatic brain injury and the whole shebang. people can’t help being stupid. then of course i feel bad. just because he has a differing opinion does not mean he is stupid. there are tons of other, better reasons he is stupid beyond simple negative versus positive liberty opinions.

 


people say that they aren’t religious, they’re spiritual. i’m not even spiritual. well, i don’t think i am. does it count as spiritual if one wishes fantasy/sci-fi novels were real? ’cause if that’s the case, i’m spiritual like to infinity. yeah, turn life into a freaking fantasy world. then i’ll be happy with it all.