Hiding In Plain Sight

I've reached a 20 year old life. Things are still crashing. I live day by day with a smile because I really mean it. I love life and all it's bullshit it gives us, it is an immense and wonderful challenge. I stick to this because this is my mindset. Has it been to much?

I am stuck between someone I want to be, someone I hate to be, and who I really am.

I have been taught that there is no fear in life. Absolutely no reason to fear anything, only to keep a cautious mind. I live by this and protect those I can. I go out of my way to save a life, get torn down, and get my ass back up.

Last night I got drugged. Yesterday was not there for me. Today I am half a mind away from letting go. I look out my window and don't feel this piercing cold weather on my skin. As if I'm not even there. What am I going to do with my life? I have some things all figured out, like moving to another country in a couple of months, but really, I AM AFRAID TO ADMIT THAT I AM SCARED. Because I don't know if I am, I shouldn't, really. Just cautions, right? But what IS this. A feeling of being incomplete? A feeling of loss? A feeling of all this power and wanting to let it all go and BE AFRAID? I am afraid to be afraid, and maybe this is what keeps me from driving out into the mountains, putting my car into convertible, and watching the sun rise around the curves of the hills.

Look what's become of me, a disaster, a role model, an un-depressed depressed protective strong helping motherfucking Lady In Leather.

 I need help, but I CAN'T.

Just a Simple Rose

"JUST A SIMPLE ROSE," we said. Or a simple flower. None the less, I am still torn apart. I have seen you, finally, and our lips have finally met. But promises, they are fucking killing me. We're not going to be together, and I need to stop. Dwelling over you is driving me into depression, and two years is too fucking much. I tried, trust me, I've tried, but somehow I can't see others. I don't know why. But I do know it's not because of what we have been through. Something's wrong with me, and it has been here for such a long time. Something is wrong with me and I don't know how to fucking explain it. I'm focused so much on getting my school work together, having multiple jobs, and studying in Germany, all so I can be too busy and not think about what is wrong with me. Because I'm depressed as hell, and I AM NOT OKAY. I'm not okay and I've practiced so many times on how to say it so I can tell someone. But everyone is so busy with their own problems, no one wants to hear my stuff. Because I won't even know how to say it. All I ask is for a rose, a metaphorical rose. Something that will bloom, something that will die, and still be beautiful. Just a simple rose, for becoming Simply Beautiful. You are so busy plotting your revenge, or talking yourself out of it, you mindlessly talk and talk and talk within your mind that you need to STOP Jonathan. You are tearing yourself apart. You asked for a simple rose, a single love and a single life. We're both depressed as hell, both torn the fuck apart that I swear to you I want to fly away and into the fucking galaxy and TRIP OUT. Maybe THEN I can come back and continue my lovingly amazing life and help as much people as I can. Maybe then I can explain what it was that I felt once. Maybe then I wont be purposely making myself busy so I won't have time to think of how this lonely freaking rose cannot bloom from starvation and damn agony. I hate it when you say freedom is in death, because even though I don't know death and don't want it now, THIS LIFE is all the damn freedom you need, just DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT. I myself need to do something. And trust me, I will come back to this blog and be depressed as hell, but I promise you I am trying, I am trying to get my emotional life together and please please please don't give up on me, I am trying, I won't back down I will never give up, but everything...everything IS NOT OKAY. But it's okay, I promise, just...just give me one single pretty rose, I am a rose.


On Your Rememories- Comeback

Ouch...I have lost myself again

Still, my name is Crash. And I am still Crashing. But I found myself, & I am breaking through walls in order to get what I most desire. But everything is crashing, just as everything is being painted green. I don't believe it is the heartbreak this time anymore.
I am alone.
I am not alone.
There is multiple people that care. Those who I want to tell, they have shut me down. No one wants to listen to a depressed story, especially is all they eager for is smiles and success. But those that have the time to listen, I can't tell them. I don't know them anough to say it to them. Trust is hard, and I don't know if being on my toes can get me anywhere or not, unless I balance it.
So I have.
When I do say something, I only say parts of it, to diferent people. Only I can piece it all together. But I only tell them minimal details.
There is something though.
I can't tell no one. No one will listen. I can't force myself to say it, because I don't even know how the hell it came to be, or why, or when. But I feel alone. I fear that I have this perfection set ahead of me, and no one cares to see the hurt in my eyes I have caught myself do for a split second. I am strong, but I am crashing. Physically, I don't crash, but it seems as if I am almost there.
My family.
My family, what have I put you into. I am sorry. I love you and I will protect you, but I have to leave you.
My friends.
I love you as well. I will also protect you, where are you?
My love.
Smile truthfully.

XXVII

On Your Rememories

Dear Comrade,

We have been separated for far a long time. It was great, however, to somewhat see that you are becoming better. You are training yourself to become someone that you feel is better. Dear Comrade, you dried a river in me, one that I thought was perfect. One that I did not know was possible to suffocate. It is great though, as much as it hurts, it's all right. I know the laser of betrayal is still hanging on your lungs. I know. But however much it hurts and pins you down, you have to see that you are attempting to become someone strong, but you already are. You were alone as you say, you were betrayed by one of the most horrible betrayals ever. You were lead on, stretched apart, ripped aside, and glued back together. Wherever you are in this world, I hope that my love for you will not do what it did before, and that is rip another piece of you, but give you luck, potential, hope, and a kick on the side to get things done. Dear Comrade, I, with all my heart and regrets, ask for you to hear my sorriness. I am sorry. And I know that sorry does not mean much to you, but it does to me. It has this huge meaning behind it, with all these little stories in between. So I am sorry. I am sorry for taking you to the moon, pulling out the gun and shooting it so all those stars can come out of it and amaze you. I am sorry I could not understand the Japanese symbol for "Love" that you pinned to the tree. I am sorry that I was not a good navigator for your Z. I am sorry that I did not get on the other side of the fence when you took me to the house up in the hills. I am sorry for walking back and forth through the entrance of the beat down house as you stood inside listening to my stupid words, those words that I thought meant nothing to you, but indeed scraped your heart. I am sorry when I couldn't find your house the day I went out looking for you to get an answer to the question you never answered. I am sorry that I never ever took a trip with you to the top of the Lindsay mountain. I am sorry for meting you at the new high school, and listening to you say that I am tall, but that you've had a tall girlfriend before, ans I interpreted as something different, something that was not the obvious message. I am sorry when you came to visit me, the last day we saw each other before our fight. I am sorry that you left your wallet under the chair on the porch, "accidentally." I am sorry that when you came back and I answered the door, the image of us catching each other's eyes for that mini second, the picture has been tattooed in my memory. I am sorry for not knowing why. I am sorry that I am going to leave the country and stay away from you. I am sorry I want to be oh so next to you. I m sorry for when I passed you by at the graduation, when you were with your little brother and I was with some friends. I am sorry I kept glancing towards your direction. I am sorry for that time where I texted you while I was in STATS class in college, to do an imaginary race in our texting. I am sorry I couldn't hurt you like she did. I am sorry that they had a true relationship with you and I didn't. I am sorry for jumping to a conclusion the day you fought. I am sorry that every time someone calls me typical, that surging burn runs through me, because I'm a "typical fucking Lindsay person." I am sorry that we might run into each other again. I am sorry that every time Elephant Back blooms green, it adds another time of despair and sorrow to me. I am sorry for not telling you. I am sorry. Dear Comrade, I am sorry for mispronouncing the word Comrade. I am sorry for it all. But I am not sorry for falling in love with you.

Crash.

Crash.
My name is Crash and I'm alone.
I didn't want to write alone, because it feels as if I'm exaggerating.
Like my mind just said alone, and I felt the burn. That burn I get when something really hurts me. Like when my mom talked about separating from my dad. Or when I remembered how much I loved Jonathan. See? I almost got it again, when I wrote his name. I feel stupid, whining about the things I'm putting myself through. But I know it's my choice, but something bad happens, and it's almost as if I make myself dwell over it, just to feel pain. Maybe I feel as if I don't have enough pain to be considered a human being, but I do. Maybe I see myself doing beyond the freedom I've always wanted as a child. Like getting in a train, watching the stars, taking a night walk or run. My name is Crash, because  I'm crashing my life, "but it's okay because it's a challenge, and I love challenges," I tell myself. I cannot have myself crying. No one will ever see me cry. Because my name is Crash, and physically, I don't crash.

This is what I want to dream

4/17/2012

I want to dream that I am a stepping stone to someone’s success, happiness, and anything but failure. I want to dream that I myself can lead a whole army and not fail. I want to dream that I can help everyone become what they can in life, and acquire all their necessities. I want to dream that my skin is beautiful to the eyes of whomever sees me. I want to dream that I won’t take things to the point where I make others feel uncomfortable, or against me. I want to dream that this world is full of individuals living as one, and take note of it. I want to dream that government and the people create peace. I want to dream that people were never killed by hatred, discrimination, or anything besides natural sickness of age, or death without pain. I dream that everyone dies peacefully, and acceptably. I want to dream we grow strong by good things that happen, and not wait to gain strength when our hearts are broken. I want to dream that my hands can pick up a boulder, and not have envy on me. I want to dream that we can all move on, be secure, and be ourselves without having to worry about leaving bad reputations. I want to dream that bad reputations do not exist. I want to dream that fighting is a sport, not a defense. I want to dream that I can jump off a plane, and feel no threat. I want to dream of perfection. I want to dream of ways. But without imperfection, I want to dream that we can manage.

Kill me, Decision.

I want to say that life is beautiful, because it is. I want to say that even a shed of darkness can make a day oh so wonderful, but it doesn't  The mentality is so stuck on what we desire most, and what we dis-love most, that sometimes we forget to see the little wink someone gives us. Today someone told me about keeping a mentality of a child, and you will be happy forever. If you begin having the mentality of and adult and think money, money, money, it can cause more trouble. And the decisions I have been demeaning myself about will put me at risk. It will put my whole life at risk. It seems like such over exaggeration, but I've seen it before. Cleverness has to be your best friend, and if this decision I choose comes into action, I cannot mess up. However, money does not rule me; I can live life without money, but not without trade. This is obvious. I cannot threat too much to see my life go into pieces, as if I can’t do anything in this world, but I will wear a smile. What is it that will keep us rich and healthy, happy and lightened? I want to see the world, but my decision can change my life.