Pretend

It seems all of these words couldn't be further from the truth
How did I get here? What did I do?

Your eyes, telling me lies
And making me find myself
While you have your agenda, a life to pursue

So please,
Let me be free from you.
And please, let me be free
I can face the truth.

I'm blind to all of your colors
That used to be rainbow then
My eyes, where did they go to?
Why disappear?

It's hard to be all alone
I never got through your disguise
I guess I'll just go, and face all my fear

So please,
Let me be free from you
And please, let me be free
I can face the truth.

Put down your world
Just for one night
Pick me again

So please,
Let me be free from you
And please, let me be free
I can face the truth

Half Alive

I find it hard to believe that so many people can manage to believe in the unknown. That even when their life takes a turn for the worst, they still believe.

Believe, Believe in what. Every day I open my eyes to the world, and all I can trust is myself, I can't find any other forces acting on me. If there was someone out there who listened to me, why would they be doing this to me.

Because I don't understand it. Maybe if someone said ' You did this this and this wrong, you need to pay the consequences' then I would understand. But what have I done that needs all of this to happen to me in one week.

Just living and breathing is hard.

Putting on appearances to find the good in everything. To find that surreal force, above it all, i find that hard.

Believeing is hard.

people say yeah it's like this. this is what the big man says. This is how we should live. This is what you should be like. You should live by these rules.

I want to believe, I do, but I can't. How can someone take so much away from me in a day. Without giving me some warning, without telling me, letting me break in half.

Without letting me say goodbye.

I didn't even get to say goodbye.

I want to believe there's something more than this, something more than mere existence, but we always want more than we can ever get.

Whatever is beyond this, Is it going to be exactly the same, is it going to be better, is it going to be worse. Is there such a thing as your heaven, your hell, or are we all just a pile of carbon compounds that decompose. Into nothing.

How can we achieve so much, mean so little, and then disappear.

In the bigger picture, there is no point to this. Why was I born to feel pain and hurt, and anger, and regret, and revenge, and emptiness, and then to grow old, and die.

WHy couldn't I just never have been born at all. Never had to go through the harsh realities of my life.

I have it good.

Real good.

I know that. DOn't get me wrong. I am so lucky. If luck exists.

But I can't help but feel that there has to be more than this. There has to. I'm sick of searching for something and never finding it. I guess I just stopped searching.

I find the little things, and just aim for them, because eveytime I aim for something more, have a dream, I get crushed underneath a steamroller of pain, of hurt, of all those emotions it isn't healthy to feel.

I'm trying to be happy.

Now and forever.

It is my goal.

I hope it doesn't get crushed. I have to pull it, put on a brave face, hide behind it, be happy. should be easy. Who cares what I feel underneath if they see the outside.

While I smile, my eyes die.

for now, sayonara.

'I'm spiraling into my doom

I'm feeling half alive but I know one day
You and I will be free

Well excuse me while I get killed softly,
Heart slows down and I can hardly tell you I'm okay
At least 'til yesterday

I'm almost alive, and I need you to try
And save me.
It's okay that we're dying,
But I need to survive'

Long Road To Ruin

I only asked for on thing in my life.

One.

To be loved.

How come the thing you want the most, is the hardest to get.

As always, my bad luck turns around and bites me on the bum.

Maybe asking for one thing is too much.

Maybe we are supposed to ask for nothing.

Want nothing.

Need nothing

Do nothing.

But to be somebody I have to want something, otherwise I'm never going to get there, am I.

Maybe asking for something, is the one thing that will tear me down.

Maybe, just maybe, I'm on the road to ruin.

And maybe, just maybe, there's no return.

But I hope there is. Because that's what I desperately need, a side road that just takes me back. Take me back to when everything was easy, to when everything was just there. No asking, no wanting, no needing.

Hasta luego

'For every piece to fall in place
Forever gone without a trace
Your horizon takes its shape
No turning back, don't turn that page'

World Behind My Wall

You see me.

You see every part of me. But you can't see what's underneath every part of me. You think you know everything about me, but not until you get a ladder and look over the top of my wall, will you ever see, and even then, You'll have to take down every brick, before you know me. ME. You don't know me. You know your idea of me. But that's it. It might take that little bit more effort to get that ladder and climb up, but seriously, what's on the other side is worth it.

And don't tell me I don't know what I'm talking about.

Because I do. And who cares how screwed up it is, or how lame, or how stupid, or pretend it is. It's me. And who tells me how to build my wall, and how to build my world behinds it. who cares if its black or full of colour, who cares. I am the only one in it, and I am the one drawing it.

So don't judge because of the wall you see in front of it.

And don't judge me because of how high my wall is.

And don't judge me because my wall isn't short, and isn't soft, and isn't colourful.

Forgive me for building a wall of bricks, red and brown, infinitely on on top of the other.

Yet again, forgive me for not being perfect.

BECAUSE I'M NOT.

and I never will be. No matter how hard I try, there are going to be parts of my world that are cracked, black, dull and blurred. And that is just how I come.

SO GIVE UP on your idea of me.

BECAUSE YOU'RE WRONG.

So wrong.

And the longer you keep on looking for a way over this wall that doesn't involve climbing, the longer it's going to take for you to figure it out.

And every sideways step you take, i take a step backwards.

BECAUSE YOU'RE WRONG.

WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG

but you don't know how mush I want you to be right.

I want it with all my want.

If that's possible.

But I can't reach the top of my wall then it's up to you.

SO just do it.

Climb the wall.

Goodbye. For now

'They're telling me it's beautiful. I believe them, but will I ever know, the world behind my wall'

The Search For Something More

59362778503. That is how many seconds I have been on this earth. But does each individual second matter?

With every passing second, does the meaning of my life grow clearer? Or does it just linger, just out of reach in the unknown.

Well If I did know I wouldn't be asking the questions, would I.

But No matter how many seconds I survive on this planet, there has to be something better, more fulfilling thatn this,

more amazing, more approving of me. Of who I am. Of who I should be, Of who I want to be.

It's what I am always searching for, just a little bit past my line, somehwere where I can be happy with no shakes, and no nothing just no thinking. NOTHING NOTHING NOTHING.

It's the epic search.

The search for something new, something fresh, something better. A search for the cabaret.

It's The search for something more.

It's a search that never ends, a search that doesn't get any easier.

'But when I saw her laid out like a queen, she was the happiest corpse I'd ever seen'

Searching For A Former Clarity

I do not understand Boys one bit. They are far too difficult to understand. They are among the realms with HTML. I don't understand that either.

'na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na'

Echoes, Silence, Patience and Grace

So. I'm very excited. I opened my laptop today to discover I had one follower to my , well, rather pathetic blog so far.

Oh well. It's not about the people who follow you.

It's about the people that you aspire to follow the footsteps of.

I follow lots of blogs.

Many are Large scale blogs, but the ones that mean the most to me are those like mine, the ones for the world to read in between the lines, make your own meaning from it.

You can't be happy when you reach for something, that is in reach, but don't reach it.

Who said I had to make a line, and I had to reach it?

I think it was me, I can't ever remember distinctively drawing it in my head, but it's always been there, a thick white line, saying finish. I didn't make it.

And it hurts that I didn't get there in time.

And for one moment, I forgot that no one could see this line, but then I realised I could hide everything inside my head, the deepest darkest secrets, my white line got buried at the back of my mind, and I just kept on living.

But the world is mine, all mine, I was born to take hold and grasp everything, and I need a white line to reach everytime I make a new step forward.

I have two pictures today. One is of Miley Cyrus, now before you ask Miley Cyrus, I depise her. I loathe her, but, her father has laid down some seriously goood white lines for her, otherwise she wouldn't be at the top of the ladder. (Oh and the picture was modified before I downloaded it. sorry if it offends you).

And we all want to be at the top of the ladder.

We all want to be on Broadway, we all want to be amongst the stars, or meeting famous scientists or hanging with Prince William. I mean who doesn't.

But the journey of getting up the ladder is what matters. The journey is always the biggest part of life. No matter what. And if we don't reach all the white lines,

who cares? We are doing what we want. Eventually we will get there, to the top of our ladder.

It's just a shame Miley Cyrus didn't get to experience climbing up that ladder. Because If she did, when she reached the top she might have been a completely different person. Her father kind of just plonked her there for all to see and goggle at. But what the average Jo Bloggs doesn't notice, is that she is a body with no soul, an empty being. And how can one respect one that doesn't know how to feel. How to feel pain, hatred, anger, revenge.

I don't know. I can't comprehend an empty being. One with no soul. It's hard.

Ok.

The second picture I found on one of my favourite blogs, postsecret. Maybe the strangers in this world, the ones we have never met, are the ones that are going to understand us the most. The ones that we are going to turn to when we feel lonely and confused, the ones we are going to turn to when we are lost.

There are strangers out there who are going to know you better than your friends after an hour of msn. There are going to be people out there who just get you.

I am yet to meet one. I guess you have to be very lucky.

Luck is another thing

I don't believe in luck,

But I believe in coincidence.

If you get what you want, If you win Lotto, it's not luck. It's just a coincidence that your lotto ticket had the same numbers as the ones that appeared on the television.

It's just a coincidence that you and the stranger were online at the same time, and one dared to say hi. And a relationship across seas has blossomed.

Treasure it.

Have fun.

Understand each other,

spill your darkest secrets

they won't judge you

they won't hurt you

They may even like you more.

Secrets are more funny things.

WHo invented the secret. Who thought of keeping things in your mind for no one else to ever see.

And why can't we search for them if we know they're there.

Secrets are meant to be kept.

that's why.

You have a secret.

I know you do.

The world is hiding it's secret.

Everything you know is a lie. You have to escape. You don't understand how someone like you could ever fit here. But somehow you do. You slot into the routines, you go to the school, to the soccer games, to every thing that matters to the people around you. But do they ever care about what you really want?

The answer to that is. well I could say 42, but I don't actually know. DO they?

That's up to you to discover. If they care or not.

I know they don't care about me. I'm just another blob on their finished artwork

a black blob in the corner of an intricate painting they have yet to finish.

Thinking that you mean something to everyone is craazy, but knowing, 100% secure that you mean something to somebody, 1 person, is all that you need.

As One girl said to me once. You have to go through the dark patches to enjoy the light ones. Yes you do. Endure through the abnormalities, endure through the pan, Endure the loss, Endure the loneliness, Endure the confusion, Endure hatred, Andure anger,

Then Just enjoy being happy.

I'm sorry that wasn't all that thought provoking, my mind's other places

Au revoir

'I think I know what's on your mind, A couple of words, a great divide, waiting in the wings a sparing spite'

Truth, Bitter Truth

I woke up last night at about 4 o'clock with a cockroach running all over me. I couldn't stop screaming for about ten minutes, and realised how irrational I was, so I shut up, shook my duvet, checked for other cockroaches and went back to bed.

But today all I could think about, bar my friend who's in some considerable pain, was every movement of hair on my body, every itch and everything I touched. I thought everything was a cockroach and my heart skipped a beat. It was like I was living in fear.

I am living in fear all the time for obvious reasons, but not this sort of fear, not all the time every minute of every day fear.

oh it's called Blattodephobia. Or phobia of Roaches. I'm absolutely terrified.

I caught four today. I know it's silly, but I can't help jumping just at the thought of one. ewww

Terrified: thrown into a state of intense fear or desperation.

that's me.

Intense fear.

Not just of roaches, but really, of everything.

Tschuss

Oh yeah yeah, but oh I never thought it ever be, ever be this hard.
It's been three weeks, since I got a decent sleep.'

I Shall Believe

Only a few thousand kilometres away from where I live, lies a country in Disaster.

Haiti

You wonder how people can carry on when all they know, is themselves.

You wonder how a country can live on and still believe,

when everything is lost.

By nature, I am not religious, even though I was brought up believing in God and attending in Church, going to Sunday school, and adhering by certain morals. I am not atheist either, however, I am a person who believes that there has to be more than 4 dimenions to this world. 1D, 2D, 3D, time, yet there has to be more out there.

The string theory is one I strongly believe in, that is so uncomprehendible to our tiny minds. That there might be 13 or 14 dimensions, of which we know only 4. i believe that there are unseen forces which create miracles, that everyone has a soul, a conscience. If you don't believe that, maybe you should watch petrouchka, about someone who loses it's soul.

It gives me hope, that people are finding something to believe in, when it might be just that, which has cause such an awful disaster to occur.

The world is a cyclic being. It goes through natural cycles. Ice age, Global Warming, Ice age global warming, this is because The earth naturally has a tendency to overpopulate. And so we are blown full force into a warming period, which is the earth's way of keeping the population nder control.

I worry that when the cameras go away, you know, people will start looking away. Right now it's a dramatic story. It's Haiti on its knees. We only like them when they're dying. That's when we care.Perhaps this catastrophe is so big that it will permanently transform the relationship between the world and Haitians. Not all disasters are created equal. It's not a complicated story. It's about humanity.

It's a depressing state to be living in. I know.

But the population has to become 1 and give, give to those who need it, give to those who want it, give to those who need to be pulled from themselves. Not give money, but love, and support, and just believe. Believe in something, just believe.

That has to help. You have to believe it will help. Just Believe.

'We can no longer go home, we no longer have one, I'll help you carry the load, I'll carry you in my arms. Help me to carry the fire, we will keep it alight together, help me to carry the fire, it will light our way forever'

Our Life Is Not A Movie Or Maybe

So I was thinking yesterday. It's all about what you really want. Deep inside.

What I wanted Career wise. If I wanted to go into a career which has high pay, and jobs are certain, like a doctor or a Lawyer or a scientist, or If I wanted to go into a job where I can define myself, where my creativity is the input. But jobs are uncertain and pay is usually low, like audio recording or film production.

And then I realised that I wouldn't choose what I wanted to do, it would sort of just happen, and what I do in my leisure time is what will lead me to what I want to do.

I don't really do much in my leisure time, I mean I've started doing this. I take photos. I record stuff, like the dog that was dancing just the other day. I watch movies, I listen to music. I do a lot of thinking.

Thinking is one of my major problems. I over think everything, and when it comes to going to sleep at night, I can't stop thinking, and therefore I can't physically go to sleep, because my mind is active and it is always running at a speed which I can't control.

I know nothing. I mean, how can you say you know what you want to do for the rest of your life, when all you have done is gone to school. And sat their like a sponge absorbing information, which on the part is merely 10% relevant to anything you are even interested in. It's a hard matter of discussion. Yet here we are, all aged 17 and 18 making these big choices which define how we are going to live.

I'm going to university.
I want to go to university.
But I also want to travel
and write music
and make films,
and argue with people.
Since when is there a profession that includes all of that. THere isn't one. or if there is I don't know anything about it.
Oh and I really like English Literature classes, and writing, deciphering the meaning behind a book, or a film, or a poem. There just seems to be a meaning in that, that makes me feel like there are people out there, who know that there are people out there who find consolence in their work. I sure do., When I read a book, like The Lovely Bones or The highest Tide, or Brother Fish. They just make you feel like your here for a reason.

Because everyone is here for a reason, on this planet. Whether they fulfil the reason they came here for, there is always reason. Whether it makes sense or not. It has never made sense to me.
When we die and Carry on to wherever is next, there is never no reason for our existence on this planet. Whether you save somebody from themselves, or wrote music which touched the deepest, most inner parts of the darkest people, or whether You saved a million lives, or whether you just were. just being. that has to be a reason right.

IT's just all so confusing. What I want. What you want. And when you're 17 or 18 and say you know what you want, that's a lie. It's impossible to know. IMPOSSIBLE. Maybe when you're thirty or mid 20's. But now, we are still adolescent people who are experiencing the pluses and minuses of growing up.

That's all I know right now. It's not much, but I know that people are hiding behind a screen of desperation and lies, lying to themselves, to others, doing what they think is right, not what actually is for them. No one is ever right. We are all wrong, because whatever you say, there is going to be someone out there who knows it better, and someone who knows it better than them, but there is never one person who can know it all. never.

All I know is that everyone is just as fragile as the next, and it's not about who makes it and who doesn't, it's the people who truly find themselves and love what they do who are the most successful. Not that really smart girl who is a really successful doctor. let me tell you. She doesn't know what she's doing. She has no clue. She did it because that was the academic path. that was what people expected. You mustn't fill the puzzle with the shape people want you to be. Just start your own puzzle, and there will be people who fit in next to you. and when you're puzzle is done, it will be the brightest most colourful intricate puzzle there has ever been.

That's it.
For now

Auf Wiedersehen.

'If you've done all wrong, your doing wrong, you can rest assured your gonna live quite quite long, all the wrong you've done will be undone in song'

Unopened Letter To The World

Hi. To anyone out there who stumbles across this, it's me.

I never though Life'd be easy, but who said it had to be this hard. I can't seem to find a place to fit my puzzle piece in the giant puzzle they call the world, where everyone is uniform and nothing makes sense. I want to over a series of entries maybe it'll take a week maybe a year maybe life, to figure out who i am and where i fit in this harsh land they call earth. I go to a school where everyone fits into their cliques, where they live life like it is one big game, but I want to make a difference to someone, I want to mean something to someone. I want someone to see what i've done and make a difference to them.

It's hard been a misunderstood human. Sometimes I wonder what the point is of being here. Why is there such thing as reason when All I really am is an empty soul?

Is there a place in this world where I can fit in?

I'm not emo. that's for sure. I'm happy. a lot. I'm just really confused. And really lonely. So I'm on a quest.

I know there are many people who are pillars to my existence, who have shaped who I have become, but pillars all eventually crumble and you're left on your own. And that is when you have to look at the world from a different perspective. from here, From the sky, from the moon, from pluto.

So where to start. Let's start from here. now. I am going to untangle this mind of mine bit by bit. Starting with where I fit in my family. My mom is a pschypath weirdo ( sometimes bitch) who is obsessed with the idea of a perfect daughter. Which I am not. And I keep on apologising for not being perfect, all the time. But she doesn't want to accept that I have flaws, that I'm different from the girls around me. That maybe there's a soul deep inside this body that wants to escape. That maybe I just want to go somewhere where I can scream and run and escape the pain that surrounds my life.

Very few people understand that sort of pain. It's not a painful pain, it's an ache in my mind that never goes away. It's just.. there. I can feel it, telling me I'm doing something wrong. I shouldn't have to constantly be trying to escape these bonds that have grown around me, they should fall off, yet I feel trapped in a perfect world, where everyone around me is getting just what they want, what makes them happy, but not me.

My father is a sexist prick who sees me as an object, not a person with a brain, a person with feelings, a person with a soul. He constantly degrades me and makes me feel like sh**. I know his deepest darkest secrets, because I had a fear of what he really was a while ago. And I searched his closets and his emails while he was gone I struggled to find that the one man I thought I could love forever was now gone to me. he had turned into a monster, some sort of unknown beast. I'm afraid to tell anyone I know these things, because what if he tries to do something awful, like kill me, or worse, hang me with a rope from the garage, for my brother to see and for him to laugh at, like silence me forever. I'm really afraid, but I know that I should tell somebody, I can't let him get away with this. It makes me sick inside to know he does this, under the nose of the world. And every time I see him my stomach ties in knots, my twists and I feel like to hurt him. I feel like to run away and hide deep in a forest of hatred and anger where i can become absrbed and not get hurt. I know this is bad. but he is the worse father a child could ask for. He has merely the skeleton of a soul, merely the brain of a human. Unconditional love. Now that's a funny thing. It's the invisible ties between blood and human, between family and earth. It's the thing that has ruined the relationship with my father. I have to get away from this place they call home.

There's my brother. who knows nothing yet talks to me like he understand why my door has paint smears all over it, why there are gauges where my family was once drawn on. He gets the small things, but doesn't understand the whole picture. which is sad, because I don't want to break the news to him that in reality, in fact, this family is a broken one, connected by the strings of what is right and wrong. the loose breakable strings. He has yet to understand and see the world as I do, he has a lot to grow and develop.

And then there's me. I just don't fit in this 'family' of mine. It's not even a family. Families actually have to understand one another.

Sometimes I wonder why I'm here. It's those days when I see you struggling to hold on, and I know that I'm your something to grab a hold to.

'I'm a satellite heart Lost in the dark'