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isobel
there's very little I understand at this point.
i'm scared, i'm vulnerable. I don't have a clue what i'm doing.
but things are happening and will continue to happen regardless.
I feel like i'm being guided in a direction, i'm being led by the hand.. but all I have with me is uncertainty and a gut feeling.

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commento
i miss what the art collective was to me before i knew its inner layers.
i miss how my mind was before, everything was fresh and i was free.
now i'm getting to know people more.. and i know that should be a beautiful... thing.

but i just think about how messy things are.
i think about Richard and how he was the one that brought me to the group.. and how i perceived him (and most other people) to be closer to a magical entity who really had shimmering layers of gold n' wit lying beneath less appealing exteriors.
times have long since changed from those times. now he isn't even a part of the collective. and now i see his bullshit... and just how much he spewed. i see how much of those toxins i sucked up, while thinking of sweet honey.

i think about my crummy self.. and see such a difference in energy that i now have.. such a lack of relentless enthusiasm. a skeptic in voyeur skin, waiting on the sidelines trying to pinpoint decent or mal-intent..

I don't know if it is the heat, but my batteries are low.
I feel unfulfilled with life and I don't know how to fill it.
I'm looking for a rush that, I believe, no alcohol or drug can provide.
commento
might has well burn my skin when i hear those words.
stops me in my tracks.

the sweet things that i want so bad
a closeness that isn't there
there's no way to disguise my words now.
it is what it is,

yeah i'm listening to songs to drown out whatever is here
but it seems like i can't press replay enough times.
(i) (want) ego and desire, huh?
to just let things be, huh?
but what about progression? advancing?
the want to step forward? to guide yourself closer ..

i'm not sure what is going on these days.
i keep getting these melancholy.. nostalgic flashes, the memory of a feeling so brief- it's gone before it really even starts.
i don't want my life to be a blur.
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i don't know why i'm left with a feeling of lingering sadness after i see you.
it's a weight that looks for me and finds me when i'm alone.

papercuts on fingertips
lose their sting, their placement staggering and still
i have yet to see

clawing gestures made in desperation,
attempts to grip something real.
grass stained hands and dirt under my finger nails.
the smell of the damp soil lingering in the air
and my eyes fighting to adjust to the moonlight.

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what the heck.
i just love people and their beautiful bodies, their beautiful faces, their stories and voices.
their facial expressions, reactions, mannerisms, or details that they themselves aren't even aware of.

I don't even know you all, but I fall in love in moments in time.. several moments in a day.

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commento
oh my heart it crumbles as i've been laying in my bed.
the days have been passing and so has my breath, with just as much effort or lack thereof.
i've been consistently thinking about a cigarette delicately placed between my middle and index finger, with clouds of smoke emerging from my lips.but i know there's no need for it.
sick nostalgic feelings are being kicked up like dirt, and frankly it makes me uncomfortable.
a familiar detachment to the world around me.. with my feet not as nearly as planted on the ground as one would hope.
my daydreaming mind is fluttering away into nonexistence and my body is left stagnate in the real world. in this physical world.
i don't want to be back here...
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current word that interests me fodder.
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i'm not in love but i want to be. i cry cause i'm not.
i'm also bleeding from my female parts: this past month i must have filled up with water cause i'm now overflowing.

maybe i'm feeling another person too...but it seems unlikely, i think this time around it's just me.
i want to be in love, i'm forgetting what it's like..and i fear that the longer i'm away from it-- the more bloodthirsty i'll become. i don't want bloodlust, i want true♥.

i kind of feel like a monster.
lost in the shuffle & the psyches of my interests.
i forget how crazy i can feel when menstruating. all the different chemicals whirl-winding in my brain & body.
my face is like soggy bread, tragically wet.
_____

Dear Angie,

You are a lovely girl. A freshness to your demeanor that I had mistaken for something else (initially.) Your calm presence makes me feel comfortable, you are sturdy like a tree, while your branches move freely with the wind. You have heart girl, and I'm thankful for it. Let me know more, youngin'. Your fly moves make me wanna get d o w n.

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basically crying in a panic since class ended.
a mental meltdown bearing the sad carcass of what's left of my fragile excuse for a body.
i've finally found my true blue calling, my healthy saving grace... my art... the thing i am willing to do and give my all for...
i've finally realized how deep that want/connection runs through me..
and i've finally created the proper-heathly headspace inside of me that allows me to finally take action comfortably.
and yet it's ripped from my hands again.

dealing with this tendinitis bullshit is.. killing me.. i really feel like not being able to work on art damages my soul. it hurts me.
FUCK!
i'm angry, i'm hurt, i'm resentful.
the only thing i want to do is create... and now i cannot do it freely because of my own physical limitations.. it's a sick, mocking joke.
my arm is so fucking bad that i have to type this all out with my left fucking hand. oh god, it sickens me.

my art has been the main thing keeping me sane.. and now what.
hysterical tears and yelps.
goddammit i hate how fucking difficult this has to be... but for the time being.. i will find a fucking way to create the way i want to... or so help me....help me..
painting with my left hand....drawing with my left hand...using my mouth... my whatever the fuck.
please let me heal quickly... please let me keep my sanity.
for the love of glob.

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i don't understand why you weren't able to give me those things or those pieces of you.. but it isn't for me to find out.
i see you and i know.. or i feel i know that there is a look in your eyes-- a flair of energy in the bowels of your soul when you see me. there is an unexplained charge, a love there.

i don't think she is all too fond of me, but that is out of my control and i by no means want to pose a threat.

i want to be closer to flowers and plants, these high static times are clouding up my perspective. and my fucking injured arm is a sick reality that i don't want to acknowledge..but i have to.
i want to spend my hours creating.
can't i just burrow myself in creation and imagery and expression.
can't socializing be less of an ugly thing.
couldn't i just rest on the bosom of love and kiss and hold.
i want sweet things & affection.
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