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Faced with the unutterable, words still disintigrate...
And ever new, out of the most quivering stones, music builds her divine house in useless space.
-Rilke
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I am moody.
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[I am not very good at html]
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sometimes i wish... [a blog]
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Thursday, March 21, 2002
Shameless plugs are what blogs are all about right? i figure I'll post a work i wrote last year. maybe you'll like it.
Emo Kid: A Melodrama
You left me here with my heart on the floor. So cold. So cold. I still think of you in my prayers. Cannot breath without you; I guess I’m dead. Inside.
It was a windy, dark evening. The dark complemented my mood perfectly, as usual. It was a flawless backdrop to the bitterness, confusion, and poetic distortion that raced through my head. So I thought I would go to Starbucks or some place I could flesh out my thoughts in peace. I needed time to think. Solitude. It was like everyone else could go on with their hollow lives and strive for more worthless playthings, but I couldn’t accept that. People don’t understand me.
Maybe that’s why Sarah left. We had been seeing each other for a month or so and I could already see her inner beauty shining through her pale skin. She actually had something to say. She actually had some compassion. Somehow she didn’t understand my need for emotional liberation, and when I tried to reach out to her she jumped back. I thought she might break through her shell. I thought about death, but knew it wasn’t right. So that’s why I came to Starbucks anyway.
They knew me there, knew I was different. I didn’t need to be there. I wasn’t another consumer, but there was more acceptance in that place than anywhere else, and I didn’t feel like being totally alone right then. So I delved into my thoughts silently amid the noise of frothing milk and the dispensation of liquefied beans "Renew, embrace pain, renew," I concluded.
Mourn false losses, and ignore the gain. Do you care? Anymore… can you feel anymore? Your callous skin hides empty soul.
She said hello and my heart prepared for more bandages, but soon I realized there would be no need, as there would be no attachment to someone so empty. I was sitting alone and she noticed me. I hadn’t seen her before. She tried to talk to me and I opened up, but the moment a word of truth came out, her pretentious concern shriveled up and died. I saw through the fake plastic flower. Her painted on beauty no longer deceived my tortured mind. How can people be so shallow and live with such a fear of reality? Maybe someday she will break down and discover how much she missed by running away. Maybe.
I refuse to spend my life hiding from myself. I refuse to give in to vanity. Conceit is not a comfort I cherish, but a vice I despise. If only the world could see this and learn to break down the walls of numbness and become open to pain and pleasure as it was meant to be. Someday, I will make a difference.
Alone, in my room, it happened again. Pondering beauty, your face entered in. I’m defeated by the sound of your voice. In my head. In my head.
Beauty is such an elusive concept. I think about what true beauty is composed of and I get lost in shattered memories and fragments of faces. They combine into a chaotic vision of my past. Sometimes I wish I could straighten them all up; sweep the dusty stairs of my youth. In the midst of all the confusion somehow your face shines through and I forget about the clutter. What is it about you that gives you such radiance? All I can do is celebrate the mystery and embrace the ambiguity of your brilliance. I want to be with you. To absorb the splendor. I want to live in your eyes.
Finish the equation. Fall into the fold of everyone and everything. Not a dissident. No more excellence. Settle for the mediocrity. Just like life, it doesn’t hurt at all. Keep the pain inside.
Society needs to take a deep breath of fresh air, feel it slice through the tar-ridden lungs that keep it alive. The smog of conformity is making me sick. I can hardly breathe in the filthy air that this world produces. I can feel the slime of industry dripping down my throat. The sight of corporations makes me cringe, and anything made popular by them is trash. I’ll never be owned by a corporate giant or live my life with the sole purpose of gaining wealth and looking glamorous. None of it lasts. Entertain the masses and no one will notice the new façade put up after the previous week’s was destroyed.
Maybe I’ll go to Starbucks again. I might see someone I know there; not like it matters. Small talk is useless and no one cares for anything else anymore. I wish I could transcend the empty words that spout uselessly from people’s mouths and communicate directly with the true person. Does internal truth exist anymore? The layers of numbness have built themselves up for so long, they almost strangle the truth lying within. Now it’s cool not to care. I don’t wanna be cool anymore.
So many pale faces stare at me. Walking on. Moving on. But I’m dancing in the snow. Dancing.
Beauty is everywhere. There is so much beauty in this world. If only people would stop and see it. Everyone keeps going about their business so that they can keep going about their business. They waste their lives making a living. If only people would look around, see the beautiful people around them, and savor their feelings. So much goes on inside that is wasted. We should strive to embrace those feelings of regret, of passion, of compassion, of anger, and of sadness. Everything has become so formulated and corrupt, that it’s hard to express anything. If we hide everything, everything is wasted. Those emotions slowly waste away into nothingness. Apathy sets in. I wish everyone could remember their first goodnight, their first goodbye, their first crush, and their first confused, painful, amazing feeling of loving someone. If I could
offer only one solution to the problems of the world, that would be it.
I’ve waited so long. Now you’re here, and I would do anything to go back. It’s too late, but maybe that’s not so bad. Maybe this is not so bad.
9:51 PM
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