Stepping outside

I'm picking through my dreams lately because there is a strange feeling in my chest. I feel as if something has been lifted and the only thing I can seem to think of is my father. When I sit down and actually think deep about it, it all makes sense. He is no longer as violent in my dreams and I feel much more at ease when I talk about him. Idk...just read if you must....;

In my dreams I look him in the eyes, deep and hard. I blame him for many of my failings. I just do. If he was faster in picking things up, I wouldn't have ever had to clean up after him all of these years. I simply would not have to. If he wasn't so god damned easy to distract, so fucking mercurial, I would not have to fight to finish up his work.

Even in dreams I can stare at him and see his mind wandering, moving on to new problems & possibilites. If he would just live up to his potential he might just change things. If he would just believe that...I mean it, really believe it. But his look eventually goes blank and all of my words bounce off.
He is not as worn as I thought he would be. It's been a long time since I have seen him clear like this. He's always on the move. I'm not sure what's holding him with me in my mind right now...but he's not talking. I see the long curls in his hair. He seems to grind his jaw a little bit. His eyes seem an empty pool of wonder and kindness if I look past the surface. But the surface is rough now, all waves crashing, winding pushing them in, bits of moisture left on the shoreline.
“What are you waiting for?” I ask as she runs his fingers across his damp forehead. I know what he will say. It will be about children and stability. It will be about circumstance and finance. It will be some shit about karma, and owing, and paying for his choices. But in this dream he says nothing.

God, how he pisses me off sometimes. I just want to grab his ass and shake some sense into him. I want to scream that this moment, this day, is another fading from his grasp. I want to pound in the fact that he controls his destiny, that he needs to reach if he wants to grasp. I want to beat a future into him. If I push him hard enough, I can make him right, I know it. But still....I can't do anything.

I reach my hand out to grab a hold of his. Nothing. No response. When the waves are gone, the deep and vulnerable tender eyes remain. It's as if he left me all over again, but this time it was for my best interest.
When I sit in front of him, legs crossed...looking down...it's then when he finally says to me “stop,” and I do because I'm growing.

after this, I woke up a little but only long enough to collect my thoughts and write them down.
<<>>

I lay back down only to find myself in another dream

I run my fingers through my wet hair and take in the features of my face. I would love to say that I know myself. I would love to tell you that I know where I'm going, or that I'll know when I'm going to grow up. I'm not quite there yet. I may never be.

Even in dreams I realize what's holding me back. I just never accept the fact that he is a much better man than I can ever give him credit for. My father's technique in life was sometimes poor, but his heart was always strong and kind. I don't know if I can ever give him my best and let him go. I almost always notice that I have that choice now. It's a gift I suppose, I'm just not really ready to use it and to set him free from my almighty grasp. I've kept his memory prisoner deep in my hear for sometime now.

For the past few years I've thought life was a riddle, a destination, a puzzle. Now i'm pretty sure that life is wonderful and I am simply the puzzled one. I also suspect that I'm supposed to be puzzled until I let go and just forgive. I don't fight it as hard as I use to though. Divinity it seems, might be somewhere inside me, and like Jeprody, it may come in the form of a question. One persons cosmic answer is another's question.

I try not to beat myself up much anymore about him. Lately I've tried to step outside of the moment, or the circumstance, or the emotion and see how things really look. At first I did it to get away from the moment, to escape. Somewhere along the line I realized that I can see more calmly and clearly from here.

I don't know how we get where we end up. But I know we are where we need to be for now. The past week has been nice to find that something is clearing up in my soul.
Life might have been easier if I would have just learned to ask myself to “Step outside”


I can't say how we get where we end up. I do know we are were we need to be. It was nice to find out this week that I'm not alone out here, outside. I tend to think I busted out alone. How arrogant is that....

Anyway, I'm not here to preach. But I will say that life might have been a little easier if I had learned earlier to ask myself to “Step outside."

Ghosts & Wind.

It's a porch. It's not mystic or surreal. But I'm sitting there and looking at the sun, all stretched out and comfortable. I'm totally there, and i'm totally not as the moments float past. I'm lost in the moments passing sometimes. I'm also lost in moments already past.

So is she sometimes. i can tell when the tense changes in the telling. Sometimes we are in present tense. Sometimes it is the tension long held and the conversation crosses the grave of something we've buried. The it becomes the past tension making the present tense.

I'm not sure how I spun up that dust, that wind. I've been swirling gently in it all week. Perhaps it's simply summer. Maybe it's uncorking the past three years. Or it could just be that this is how healthy feels. To be able to move gently through the past and the present with a palpable absence of pain is pretty new and strange to me. 

I worried sometimes that my tears came too easily now, you know, after the fall. My dad used to be like that when something touched his heart it pushed his tears right out. I told him not to be embarassed about his emotions, so I didn't have to hide mine either. There was no need to worry anyway. They slowed on their own. Sometimes now they only come when I call. 

As I sat there with nothing but my thoughts, I often feel another person, see another glass on the table, stacked with ice and a piece of fruit. When we shared desert I was totally there and strangely gone, like the flavor between bites. The old taste flees to make room for the new. It becomes hard in a moment to tell if this is a new goodness, or the memory of an old sweetness. 

In that moment it really doesn't matter what manner of sweetness is on the tongue. I'm just tasting it all, tasting it all again. 

I'm still tasting. 

No matter if it's food or people, fear or challenge, we all step away from something every time we step. Even when we step towards something else. At times I think that if I move forward to fast I will lose track of where I have come from. Of who and where I have been. It's bullshit. 

No matter were we go, what we do, who we become, ghosts and wind and memories travel with us. The memories change quickly as we grow, slowly as we age and never if we freeze them in frames we call perfection or hate or can't or some other inflexible thought that holds them trapped. 

Ghosts and wind are beyond our control. We only feel them as they move around us, touch us, mess our hair. We look, or we don't. Our choice, really. 

I sat at a table alone on Sunday. The first time I've felt calm in 3 years. I was surprised to find myself looking into myself, not away. When I did glance around my head it was strange to see no pictures in frames on the table anymore. The memories were fluid and quiet. They did not require my attention anymore. They were simply okay. I could pick them up in my head and look and then return them to the air. They had lost their sharp edges. 

And him, he has become some combination of ghost and wind. Something of who I thought I knew wrapped in currents that were familiar and foreign. You can reach for both. You can hold neither. 

Today the ghosts in the wind are smiling somehow....I can feel it. The people I can't hold, the steps I'll never take toward, the possible choices never made, they all visit and swirl happily. 
It's also a happy thought that some of you are caught up in the wind. 

Anyway, thats where I've been. 

Standing like an oak as it whips my hair around like leafy branches on a sunny day when the world is content, as the ghosts play among the branches. 

They may not know that I'm looking. But I am. 

And although I am sad today, I'm trying to be happy for his sake.
It's strange to feel happy.

You were my anchor...& therein lay the issue & therein lay the problem.

I'm starting to remember why I'm alone in all of this again. Some time ago I decided to just stop talking to people and stop living my life. The day that he was taken from me, I took myself away from everyone else. Seeing everything slip away so fast made me realize that there is never really anything to hold onto to begin with. Whatever you hold on to you will lose grip of. That's proven to be true with so many things in my short life. I can't have a relationship with my mother because I can't "accept" her drug addiction and way of life. I can't keep friends because I know that with time they will find other interests and I will no longer be of importance to them anyways, not that I ever was to begin with. The last "friendship" I had was just ripped to shreds for no fucking reason. That person holds so many of my fears and deepest secrets and she just betrayed me because I was having a hard time in my life and I couldn't bare to have a sleep over or a girls day out. She pretty much just turned into a different person. I know it shouldn't bother me but it does. I thought that....nevermind.
Things change, people change. It's just really crappy the way shit turned out. It didn't have to be that way. I'm not just passing blame, I'm accepting it. Our interest changed...not to say that they were the same to begin with. -And with that all being poured out..that would be the reason why I no longer want to get close to anyone unless I absolutely have to. I don't want to open up to someone and waste my time if they are just going to fuck me over in the end. That's not the only friend that I lost though...
I never really had a lot of friends to begin with, just people to talk to. I've always shifted my hurt feelings on everyone else. That is true. I don't think I'm capable of having a healthy human relationship with someone because unless they can relate to my hurt I feel as if there is nothing else for me to talk to them about. I know it's wrong and I should be able to deal with my own personal issues and put them aside for the sake of socialization.
I'm just better at being a social outcast. I'm a displaced person.
Even though it sucks ass to go into college without any friends, I know I will get through it. And I honestly know I can do it.
The possibility of me actually getting to know someone might be somewhat possible if I just let go of the past and my losses. If I just stop feeling so damn sorry for myself I can be happy.-I'm just not ready to.
I honestly think that I keep my grief with me because I'm the only one that can push it to the side & reject it. My sadness can't abandon me.. I have to make it go away on my own.

Unclear Mind.

I have an unclear mind cluttered with more than my own thoughts, a box of secrets from various people that came open. In it I hold their thoughts, opinions, their bad days, their sorrow;everything that fuels pessimism. From both males & females, just jumbling around in my mind mixing and like a parasite feeding my own thoughts and making me vulnerable to my flaws. I cant help but to get depressed again, jealous, angry, annoyed, its eating at me. Its about 25 different problems...

I am spilling out this info here in hope it goes away like a bad memory and shuts the box or purges out the thoughts, whats the point in keeping some of this info? I dont know and wont know why some lingers more than others. But it seems there is different sickness and technology is failing, relationships are shattering faster this month alone. This seems to be a bad month a hurricane of issues piled up, and I am here trying to swallow the bad and convert it to a better time.

I have been able to control most of my nightmares now, slowly and surly trying to keep that balance and convert it to peaceful sleep for another night and to let me rest. So far so good, but when things like this spill over im bound for more nightmares tonight, I am really tired of avoiding sleep.

the only thing thats keeping me sane right now is the love i am getting from one person. its beautiful and warm, i cant lose it now, I need it more than oxygen. And all in the same moment that I realize that I need it ....I keep pushing it away and distracting myself with useless things of other people and their issues and I make them my own.

Rest your eyes, sleepy head.

Sometimes I feel like one of those creepy artsy ladies from the city....you know the kind....they live in shitty apartments but for some reason,they find the beauty in what it use to be.They live alone because no one else can feed their twisted soul what it desires quite like they can.They love the sound of the rain tapping against their windows and they don't mind the trash that piles up on the streets. They live their life in their mind. On the walls there are paintings of what she's ripped out of her heart and splashed oh so violently on canvas.-it was acceptable that way.
Her bed isn't simply made, no.... It's draped in cloths & candles. The more pillows, the better. There is no need for a television in her apartment because all she needs are the memories in her mind that seem to be on replaying over and over these days.

Yeah...weird..I know. But lately I feel like I'm somewhere else. Like I said, this just doesn't feel like home.
I want to be in a big city; a city so big that no one knows my name. People ignore me and most of the time people won't even notice I'm alive because I wan't make myself known. I want to walk the streets at night with a fear in my heart....I want to be alone. I want to have my violent fits of rages whenever I damn well please. I want to have my own day where I can just lay in bed and cry if I want....
I want to be able to sit at my kitchen table at 4am and drink tea in complete silence. I want to be able to sit in the middle of the floor and just draw....I don't care what room I'm in or how uncomfortable that damn floor is...I just want to be on it. (that could apply for more than one thing ;) )

I know that all of the things I WANT aren't necessarily what I NEED. And in a way, all the things that I want are things that will just feed this little demon called depression. I know that what I NEED is to find some happiness and to move on. Truth is...I'm not ready.
I want to be alone.
I want to think about it for a really long time.
I want to throw away everything in my life and just start over.
I want nothing.
I want to just sit there.
I want to soak it all in and accept it...IN MY OWN WAY...IN MY OWN TIME.

I don't want it to last forever.
But I do want it to just take some time.

I wanted to punch some lady in the face today because she pissed me off.
I wanted to grab her by the back of her head and to twist her hair in my hands and just beat the shit out of her. ;)
The funny thing is though, she didn't really do anything out of the ordinary.
She was a stranger.
So..yeah.
I just want to be alone...to be left alone.
No friends.No family.No phone.No TV.No PC.
Nothing.
I need to get a grip soon though...
Anger & depression are taking over ever so quickly these days.
I'm afraid I might let them take control.

Consumed with what's to transpire

It's 5:42am, and I can't sleep. Just full of anxiety, unknown anxiety like I am channeling it from someone or somewhere else. I have an unclear mind with it.... it's not even fluid thoughts but choppy static murmurs I can't understand what they are saying or getting at...it's frustrating! It's also frustrating to feel like my heart is going to burst open through my throat.I wonder if it will burst if I vomit?...eek.

I've been seeing them again; the shadows come to life and they are noticing that I see them again, and this means the violet battle of dreams will be here shortly too. These feelings are sucking out any love and hope I have; just pumping stress and annoyance into me. All is lost, no hope.
My wings hurt....yes, my wings..there are weights on the the torn skin on my back...weights are one me again and it's more personal than anything. What new changes lie ahead? I can't help but to pull my head up and back to look.

Lately I have felt the need to talk to someone again...to just unload all of my issues onto others. I attract talkers, those who have to tell me their bad things they have done, as if I am some priest. I don't understand why random people try to drag out a converstaion from me...as is being quiet is so bad. I used to joke that I am a sin eater; I eat other peoples sins and take them upon my own. I think it is real. Do I unload/clear my soul of all this jargon? Not sure but what can a person do for me anyway.

My heart feels pinned against the wall away from me, and it's stressed as well. Anymore stress it will bleed again. It's not the caretakers fault..he is adding all the love,care,comfort,and kindness he can, it's just that it's me and my problems that are messing up his care, I'm sorry.



My legs feel nailed to the ground, they are stopping me from moving forward, I'm ready to cut them and crawl forward, but if I do then my hands will be nailed and if I still try then the nail in my back will impale me...but I will still try even if my heart bursts. I'm not ready to be pulled back, I've done so much and given up a few things to be able to be where I am. I only seek what my heart and soul wants. Why damn me for the teachings that have been impregnated into my mind when I was younger?

Don't give me wings only to clip them, I'll go on til the last drop of blood falls.

ANOTHER RANDOM RANT>>>>>>>

The silver light that illuminates my hallways as I walk past the doors of my life flutters to a rhythm that is off beat and inconsistent like my mind lately. The shadows are movings and creating pictures of the past. I walk this path over and over again like I am stuck on a treadmill and not going anywhere. I see my father coming in and out of the doors but nor sure which one to be in so I can have him in my life again. I am reaching out to him, shouting his name, but he cannot hear, he just smiles and says "angel..." I keep walking and hoping the ground will break under me and let me run forward and begin the chase. Instead the hallway gets longer and I am left to think if I'm doing the right thing for you.I slow down to a stop ...the treadmill stops and I stand there looking at the doors,which one....or is it every door.
I'm afraid I'll pick the wrong door and it will push you away from me even more. None of these doors look promising or hopeful, they look more like bleeding hearts ready to shred apart and drown into tears. I am lost again and don't know what to do. Am I real anymore, am I needed here? Am I anything......I don't feel like I am. Even if I lay here and wait to be run over or drowned in the past, I see your happy face saying my name.....I crawl to you but I don't know if I can handle it... I am the light bearer for them all but who will light my way or give me some kind of strength when it seems like most people are stepping me down into the dirt........show me how to get to the end....or to you....

Now it's a sleepless rant...I'll STFU now before it becomes a short story and some how it's 5:42am again.....Time has stood still :(

You die for love.

It's hard to find something to do with your days during the summer.
There is feeling of wanting to be alone, but then again, if you're alone you think of all the "what if's & why this;why that" shit.
Being around people just doesn't seem to cut it when you don't give a fuck about anything anymore. Conversations become meaningless and everything you've always tried to repress just resurfaces over again.
I get so tired of feeling happy one minute and then so completely opposite the next.
They all say to just take pills..it will go away.-I say...NO.
I don't need medication to make it go away because it's normal to be upset about what I'm dwelling on. I mean, it may not be "healthy" to live with it everyday and to just dwell on it and let it linger, but in a way..his memory is still with me.
Like tonight, I drove by Speedway..and don't you just love when all those little "events" pop up in your mind....
anyways.....I think it went something like this;

It was a couple months into the school year (9th grade to be exact), and me being the little deviant that I am..I decided to not abide by the dresscode....how bad could a detention be anways. I remember this day too. It was in the fall, and it was kind of cold outside. I was sent to Mr. Nicholi for wearing "jeans"....they were khaki though...ugh. He gave me a two hour detention and no way to call for a ride after school.
On my way to the room, I saw someone that I had a crush on and it seemed to make the time go by really fast. As soon as I got out of there my dad was in the office and he was really pissed off because I didn't call him and he was worried that something had happened to me. There was a brief arguement between my father and the principal and then we headed for the truck.
It was so cold outside..that's one thing that I just remember so clearly.
As we pulled away from the school I seen that person that I was talking to during my detention and my dad got really pissed at me.
After a couple of minutes he went down some random street and said, "Fuck it,I'll get gas now."
With it being so cold outside I figured that I might as well get coffee or something.
I felt bad for my dad when he was pumping gas because he had just had a shoulder surgery and he was wearing the cast/sling thing.
When I came back out the the truck, I spilled the coffee as I was trying to sit down. He must have though that it got on his floor because he went crazy and smacked me on the arm.
It was pretty awkward driving home, but after a little while he started talking to me in his strange way that he did.....he asked me how my day was and was joking about how much of a bitch kelly had been since he can't go back to work for a while. The smiled and everything...he was laughing about it all....but when we got home, all the stress seemed to jump on him again and he was in a terrible mood. I watched him go from high to low.
I don't know why but if I could, I would have thanked Mr. Nicholi for that detention.I'm glad that I wore the wrong pants that day. I'm glad that I had that conversation with my father. I'm happy that just for a little while, he was happy. Now everytime I drive by that gas station, I think of my dad and the funny way he would flip out when I would step in the oil spots because it would mess up his interior. I miss the way he would get mad at me for the little things like sneezing and laughing because it would irritate him.
I miss when he would ask me what I was thinking about.
It always seemed like a dumb question to me, but now that I think about it...he just wanted to know what was on my mind. I wish I would have talked to him more.

There are times when I just have to stop over at my old house and walk around in the yard just because it brings back memories..and although they hurt me so much and kill my heart over & over again..I keep doing it just because I can feel him there.
I sometimes look into the windows and I can see the spot where he died because there is a stain.
It's just proof that he's really gone.

When I walk into the back yard by his old shed I remember the last conversation we had there. I wanted to go to the park to see my friend and he argued with me that I was going to see a boy when I really wasn't. I begged to just leave the house because I was grounded to begin with. He was washing his Blazer.....I kept running my fingers through the soap....he would get mad. lol.

Anyways..he let me go for a while. (an hour).....TWO hours later he drove through the park and told me to be home soon. THREE hours later a cop drove up to me and my friend and asked me where I was supposed to be and she told me to get home because my dad was looking for me.
When I did get back home, he was standing in the front yard with the phone talking to my mom or my grandma. He was seriously pissed of to me that I took advantage of the privelege he gave me. At first I didn't see why he was so mad, but now that I think about....I would have been too. He just cared.

Even though people talk about my dad and say he was a shitty guy, I know different. I know different because I saw different. My dad was a really good man.
It hurts me think of how he had to struggle so much though. He always tried really hard to make me happy and to take care of me and to make sure I was okay at night. He woke up at 6am every morning and went to a shitty job just because he loved me and he had responsibilities.
He would think of me so much throughout the day that he would actually sneek and text me stupid jokes.

I get greedy with my memories and with what I use to have. I guess I just try to hold it all in for myself because I don't want to forget. I make him seem like he was just a terrible man somtimes just because I can't believe he left me. All in all, my dad was a great man. I never realized how many people he knew until his funeral. I never realized that I wasn't the only person there that loved him. I need to realize that I'm not the only person here that lost him. Kelly lost a husband, my mom lost her first love, my grandma lost her "son-in-law", I lost my dad, and many people lost a friend, Tony lost his brother,Gage lost his uncle......he was someone to everyone.
I seem to be the only person stuck in the mess he created and left.

Everyone dies.
No matter what you do you die.
Everything you do is for nothing.
But not really because in the end when you're gone, people remember you but they hurt because you're not here...
You die for love.