Undone

Isn’t it fun? Being horrible to yourself. Driving yourself a little deeper into the floor, tasting dirt in your mouth–

knowing you don’t deserve any better. It’s just… interesting.

I went to Church today, and it seemed like every word stabbed a little deeper, telling me that I was going to hell. No one said it. Honestly, most of it was about redemption from sin, but I can’t believe how it only made me feel worse.

And i was thinking, how i regard myself as broken. Not quite right– a little off kilter– basically just– *sighs* Broken. and — how I could fix it if I just let God take me and guide me…

I guess i’m so used to being broken, being any other way doesn’t seem quite right.

Maybe i’m sinking into another bout of depression, as i’m bound to… and it would make sense, since i have no control over my life, or anything in it…. Not what I do, or what I wear, or who I talk to. What I say. And I can’t say what is inhibiting me. My dad, my religion, myself. I think it’s mostly the last one, that i’m too scared to do something against what everyone expects. I’m too scared to say that i don’t want to go to college, and that I don’t want to wear these clothes that are pretty, and that I want to go hang out with Gert, on a Sunday– Of all days. And i’m at war with myself, because I don’t know if I do really want these things because I want them, or because I can’t have them– because someone told me no.

There was no choice. There was a decision, but there was no choice. It was like a judgment, that was made for me. I want to follow the precepts of the gospel– I want to be faithful daughter of God…. I don’t want to do it by my father’s rules. And it feels like I’m a dainty flower in the Arizona sun– and i’m not sure if i’m going to survive living here. Not sure if i’m going to be okay–

I just know i need out. I need to be out. And i don’t know if it makes sense, but — I’d like to do something wrong, so i can start doing things right…. for myself. I can’t do that here. I can’t do that with my father looking on.

*sighs*

Good, Better Than Ezra

Looking around the house.

Hidden behind the window and the door.

Searching for signs of life but there’s nobody home.

Well, maybe I’m just too sure.

Maybe I’m just too frightened

By the sound of it.

Pieces of note fall down, but the letter said,

Aha, it was good living with you.

Aha, it was good.

Aha, it was good living with you.

Aha, it was good.

Sitting around the house,

Watching the sun trace shadows on the floor.

Searching for signs of life, but there’s nobody home.

Well, maybe I’ll call

Or write you a letter.

Now, maybe we’ll see on the Fourth of July.

But I’m not too sure, and I’m not too proud.

Well, I’m not too sure and I’m not too proud to say.

Aha, it was good living with you.

Aha, it was good.

Aha, it was good living with you.

Aha, it was good.

{spoken:}

Yeah, you were so good. yeah you were so good, yeah that’s right…

Derringer Meryl [Pondering] Out

Finally.

In my readings of millions (okay, just lots, okay) fanfictions, and novels as well as novellettes… that one think remains true…..

The meeting of two lovers is possibly the sweetest thing ever. Romantic, heartwarming, and just… one big warm fuzzy. *sighs*

On the other hand, we were talking, for some reason, at work about drinking. Yes as in Alcohol. Before all of you wig, we weren’t drinking. I’ll never EVER drink. I’ve seen the social decay it’s caused in several people who were at one point close to me…. anyway. We were talking about how someone threw up in Gert’s bed, because she wasn’t feeling well and she was lying down there…. i digress… we were theorizing what kind of drunk i would be. A funny drunk, like some people are, an angry drunk, like off an after school special, or a horny drunk…. and I think you know what I mean.

Both Artemis and Gert agreed that i’d be a horny drunk. (mutters) thanks guys. Not that i’d necessarily sleep with people, they added afterwords, that i’d simply be touchy feely. I had to agree. Suppressed tendencies would be … unsuppressed when inebriated….

and i’m a huggy person. Oh yes, but– people dont’ like to be hugged. ANd i don’t like to be hugged just because…. like “Hey you’re a person, wanna hug?” Naw, I’m not like that. Nope.

*sighs* Have you ever just rambled and wished you could stop yourself, but … can’t. like your mouth has a mind of it’s own.

and then you wish you could take it all back— Oh yes…

taking it back would be nice.

Derringer Meryl [Fin for the week]

Broken things.

I’m broken, and therefore, enjoy breaking things too. *sighs* And apparently have encouraged other things to break. I’m not right

I’m not good. I’m not anything of worth. And NO, i’m not baiting for everyone to tell me i”m all peaches and fuzz. Because I”m not. I’m not a pretty thing. I’m broken, and wrong. There is not a good clean thing about me but my faith, that I more than likely don’t deserve to have. I hurt people. I hurt things. I break them until they can’t be broken anymore– and people over look it, because they can’t see. Can’t see how much i’ve made things wrong.

And I can’t see it all either, I just know i did it. I helped it. I broke it. I put the crack in the dish that led to it’s shattering. I may not have done all of it, but I certainly allowed for a wedge to take place.

I’ve forgotten all the good things, and I’ve become selfish– and whore-like. I’m broken, I’m burnt, and I’m dying from shame, and I apparently want everyone to die with me.

Every good thing i touch becomes tainted and dirty. All happy things frown, and living things wither under my gaze.

I cannot be happy, for I am the essence of sad and death.

Torn, Natalie Imbruglia

I thought I saw a man brought to life

He was warm he came around like he was dignified

He showed me what t was to cry

Well you couldn’t be that man I adored

You don’t seem to know – or seem to care what your heart s for

I don’t know him anymore

There’s nothing where he used to lie

My conversation has run dry

That’s what’s goin’ on

Nothing’s fine

I’m torn

I’m all out of faith, this is how I feel

I’m cold and I am shamed

Lying naked on the floor

Illusion never changed

Into something real

I’m wide awake and I can see the perfect sky is torn

You’re a little late

I’m already torn

So I guess the fortune teller’s right

I should have seen just what was there and not some holy light

But you `crawled beneath my veins and now I don’t care, I have

No luck

I don’t miss it all that much

There’s just so many things

That I can’t touch

I’m torn

There’s nothing where he used to lie

My inspiration has run dry

That’s what’s goin’ on

Nothing’s right I’m torn…

Derringer Meryl [No Going Back] Out

My life has been swallowed by the treacherous claws of Square-Enix shame on them. Wasn’t enough that you owned the souls of millions of gamers world wide? Did you have to swallow me too?

Oh Square-Enix, Do you really hate me that much? Or do you love me and you’re showing it by producing FFX-2 a game that is so wonderfully wonderful…. *sighs*

Is it wonderful because it’s new,

Or is it wonderful because it’s Wonderful?

I don’t know. I really don’t. The story is SLOW…. but the romantic in me keeps moving forward… I MUST SAVE TIDUS! (Yes, despite the spelling, it’s pronounced TEEdUS, not the ever so popular TyDUS)

Oh Tidus, is it really you? OR does it just LOOK like you?

Derringer Meryl [lovingly Lovely] Out

Have you ever been so exhausted that you simply cannot sleep? I know Sarah McLaughlin and Marco have, Hence the writing at One in the morning. 🙂

Heh.

I guess i’m holding out some kind of wicked hope that Monkey might get online. Sleeping isn’t really sleeping unless you know everyone is alright. *blinks*

I couldn’t sound MORE like a psychotic wench could I? I’m odd and I’m wrong, but talking to him relaxes me. He reminds me that not everything in life needs to be stress filled. I can talk to him and honestly not worry about one thing I say. He’d just laugh it off anyway–

I find this trait to be slightly annoying– and slightly endearing… I’ve also found it something I can’t sleep without. I get these panic attacks before i go to sleep– and my brain keeps screaming threats and obscenities at me, and that i’m useless and that i’m stupid, that i’m going to fail my math class by some kind of default, and that i’m lame, I’m fat, I’m ugly, and I can’t seem to fight it, but Monkey seems to chase my brain away, allowing me to sleep without the panic induced coughing and the nightmares.

Those are what I hate the most. The nightmares.

night·mare – n.

1. A dream arousing feelings of intense fear, horror, and distress.

2. An event or experience that is intensely distressing.

3. A demon or spirit once thought to plague sleeping people. we’re looking into the first one there.

I don’t know how to describe them… and it’s sort of wrong that i still have them, considering the fact that i’m almost ninteen. i’m a sissy. I have no way of controlling my brain, and especially not my subconscious which attacks me all the time anyway. And I have no way of explaining why Monkey makes all the bad things go away.

All I can say is that it’s addictive. Sleeping. Sleeping well. Something that a sleep deprived person clings to. *meeps* So sorry there Monkey. I’m sure (if you’re even reading this) you find this irreversibly weird. *Shrugs* I gotta say what i gotta say, and maybe by saying it, i can make it go away, or figure it out. I have to admit, i’ve lost all the ‘ooey gooey’ feelings for Monkey now. I care for him, he’s my friend, and i’ve found he can solve my insomnia.

On a completely different note….

All my life, i’ve been wanting something. To fill this space I have inside of me, and empty emotional void. I guess I was born with it. Who knows. Sometimes my mom says I must have One dandy of a husband waiting to make me feel complete like that.

So my entire life, i’ve been wanting to get married. Despite the fact that i’ve grown up surrounded by what i’d call unsuccessful marriages, i still want it. I think about it. I know what kind of wedding dress I want and where i want my reception to be, and I know i don’t want anyone i (or my future husband) don’t know personally to be invited. I know that it scares me. I know that the divorce rate is too high for my liking, and that i positively absolutely cannot enter into marriage even THINKING that divorce is an option (for simple problems, not complex such as abuse or infidelity) and i know that after wishing and hoping and dreaming my entire life— i’m tired of waiting.

Because after all of that, i’ve dreamed myself into some kind of anti-social place where i talk to no one who doesn’t talk to me. I’m scared, and i’m tired, and I can’t sleep– because i ahven’t talked to the one of the two people (near by) that i consider to be my best friend. I’m so tired of being chased by men with faces i cannot see in my dreams at night.

I”m so tired of not being able to sleep.

Derringer Meryl [I’m so tired but I can’t sleep] Out