this is the last message

imposture @ 2004-12-03T23:42:00

2004-12-04T04:43:27Z

Who was I kidding trying to believe in myself. As if I could accomplish such a huge task when I don't even deserve an award of that magnitude.

Please, just tell me everything you know about me, because I forgot it all.

imposture @ 2004-12-02T11:34:00

2004-12-02T16:23:05Z

I believe I am fully moving to tractate add at your own will.
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imposture @ 2004-11-05T00:13:00

2004-11-05T05:09:49Z

staring into the open airport where luggage lines the bottoms of orange plastic chairs with impatient individuals holding passports to places they think hold a future worth traveling for; and in the middle of it I I drift away into the site of on coming traffic and speeding motor vechiles casing the outside lanes looking for a faster route to no where. i watched you pack your bags; i watched you pack everything that meant something to me into a dusty suitcase with meaningless old departures attached to zipper tags.

imposture @ 2004-10-26T22:29:00

2004-10-27T02:37:51Z

I miss you so much. I never listend to them Jacob; I never listened to those people who said I should get over you. There is no time limit on recovery, there is no reasonable amount of time before I should move on, it can't be defined. I miss you so much and I wish I could explain the feeling of trying to cope inside your heart and mind exactly how long forever is; how long forever is until I see you. This is the end, I know the true meaning of regret; I'm aware that it is impossible to go back in time; I know wishing to change the past gets you exactly no where. I have my bad days, my days where I remember you, and miss you more than anything else I can fathom. I've never felt such pain through a death. Maybe it's because I know it could have been resolved; that it wasn't fate because you made the decision that you didn't want to live anymore. I think that's what anyone who is a survivor of suicide feels and can never surpass. The fact that it wasn't meant to be, but happened anyway.

imposture @ 2004-10-08T00:24:00

2004-10-08T04:24:12Z

You told me once you were bad luck; I’ve been crawling under ladders that stand tall with no fear of height; crossing the path of every black cat; and breaking every mirror in sight to get you. What we see is what we want, the only disgrace to this is it is only our reality, our observation, everything just sort of fades into the distance and we’re only left to deal with it when what once was present becomes the past. Something distorted in the distance we strive so but can’t resemble.

Maybe I was walking into a dream, a dream of tic-tac-toe’s and leaning on rustic, metal-entwined, fencing, staring off in a deserted baseball field with worn marks where proud players rose to defeat. The paint is chipping off from footprints and seating arrangements for the ultimate spin of a lifetime. No wonder I’m constantly seeking my youth, wondering where it left off and growing up took over.

imposture @ 2004-06-20T00:27:00

2004-06-20T04:27:11Z

Walking through the entrance of the football field your eyes were instantly flooded with backs of purple shirts that read, “I’m still winning.” As you gazed around you at all the different themes you suddenly realized your feet had hit the stone track; the crackling sound of stones being kicked up behind you from the people taking laps for lives. I saw the most breath taking image—something you don’t really know what your first reaction to it should be; but one thing you do know is everyone who has seen it as gotten the same type of chills. “HOPE” spelled out on the left side of the bleachers, “LIFE” on the opposing side. Relay for life bags aligned the seats of the bleachers with the intention of spelling hope & life at night as each candle inside of the bags were lit. Every second is a moment of silence as you’re walking. I don’t want to give you all the wrong impression; this wasn’t a collection of people gathered around to mourn or fight the same battle; the battle to fight cancer. No, this was a gathering of some of the strongest people you’ll ever meet. These people, as well as their friends and family, came together to prove that cancer hasn’t taken their life from them, that cancer will not rob them of their riches in this world. If it weren’t for the shirts distinguishing them from the other crowds of people you wouldn’t even have been able to pick out the cancer survivors. Everyone was enjoying themselves with the festivities and I think that’s what it’s all about. I admire them; there is a different kind of light in their eyes. I’ve heard fighting is half the battle, and if you ask me, all those people at Relay For Life won along time ago.

imposture @ 2004-06-18T23:00:00

2004-06-19T03:39:19Z

Dear Adriana

we feared your life before you were even born

we anticipated your arrival months in advance

and now you're here and you give us a feeling

we can't explain, but it echo's through us

with your simple smile.

look how the sun makes the brightest attempt to beam on you

and how every color just blends together

so the focus is soley on you.

that face holds many memories

and those eyes are filled with so much curiousity

and my eyes are filled with so much love.

beauty comes in many shapes and sizes

i never knew a blessing came in the form of a child

a day and night could end with you

your innocence is something i'll try my best to keep pure

and for the rest of my life, since the day you were born,

i promised you as i'd rock you to sleep and sang you

songs that'd i'd hold your hand through it all.

you're precious in so many ways and i look forward to

the day you become a teenager and I can tell you all the

things i've done with you over the years. But that can wait

because i don't want to rush through it all

and miss watching you grow up.

imposture @ 2004-06-18T22:55:00

2004-06-19T02:55:44Z

I'm sorry for all the times I said good-bye
but not half as sorry for all the times I said hello again.

imposture @ 2004-05-31T23:03:00

2004-06-01T03:04:46Z

Outlines of maps where we breathe
We won't let ourselves forget.

Two steps to the left
maybe one chance more
and if all I need is a badge in the shape of a star
telling the world I passed a test that said I was capable of saving the world.

How many years did it take for all the streamers to be torn from bicycle handles? You can walk into someone’s room and touch every single thing, you can probably make a sound judgment on their most prized possessions by the crease in that book they could never put down,the quotes scribbled on their dry erase board, the fact that the most faded and worn t-shirt still hangs in their closet; like it has some priceless value attached to it,or what sorts of things line the white walls of their bedroom.

Maybe I’m too young to understand the value of this world. Maybe I’m too old to still believe in innocence.

This is an invitation for someone to invite me, or tag along on some trip to discover everything and nothing in one breath, or consecutive breaths. Because I’m so tired of planning my next move, and I want to live just a week or two for this one small thrill—the thrill of nothing planned.

imposture @ 2004-05-27T17:42:00

2004-05-27T21:47:49Z

I will not let you slip between the cracks, I'm tieing up loose ends, I'm sealing leaks, I'm righting all the wrongs and coming clean on every dirty little secret.

This is the master plan to your life. This is your fix. This is something you can't afford not to be addicted to.

imposture @ 2004-05-21T22:52:00

2004-05-22T05:58:00Z

One day I hope to wake up and forget a little less because right now every morning that I wake up I learn something knew, but it never seems worth the sacrifice. I’ll budget you in for a memory, perhaps you’re worth the space. Your face is the kind that always seems familiar; one I’d rather soon forget. I’m sitting in a open space at a table with a bunch of casual individuals whom I’m sure at some point in my life I could find interesting, but right now all the trailing off makes me look forward to these moments; I tune them out to argue with myself. What kind of road are you waltzing down when you find your thoughts more entertaining then another warm-blooded opinion. Who am I fooling, childishly fidgeting, or was it nervously avoiding that certain person who caught my eye from the start. Can you tell the degree of my anxiousness by the depth of bite marks lining my pencil? It doesn’t matter. I’ll see him again within my dreams. So if we both continue to try and act like we are engrossed in some meaningful conversation as we all sit rallied around our circle of friends at some claustrophobic table, glancing away as if it weren’t intentional at all what does it really matter? I will see him in my dreams, or I in his, we both can avoid the awkward moments we’d encounter in reality. One of us will set the scene; him or I sitting on a park bench on some gloomy day, obviously disheveled and broken from some previous situation where life had led us nowhere but down hill. Downhill, why is downhill so bad? People spend their entire lives trying to climb some damn mountain and when they get to the top they realized they couldn’t sift through the fog well enough to see the landscape. Is a view really different from the top? You’re just looking down on where you came from. I’ll save the painting I’ve made in my mind where what I can’t see is something beyond this world. There isn’t any room for gloomy and disheveled days, no one is fighting about the type of sex you should fall in love with and job applications don’t ask you what color of skin you have. I’m tan. I check the box marked other and I write tan. I wonder what sort of reaction that causes. Oh, yeah, nothing is worth anything unless you give it a second thought. All that conversation about going with your first instinct was quoted by a half fast man, or woman, we can’t give way to sexism in a world of equality…right?

imposture @ 2004-05-20T17:23:00

2004-05-20T21:23:54Z

i say your name in between breaths of him.
you'll always be second best.

nevermind that.

2004-05-12T08:26:35Z

He was a visionary with a backpack full of dreams, and I fell in love with his insight. He’d tell me stories about his unaccompanied trips to explore things through someone else’s eyes. I dreamt about sitting on third stories rooftops having conversations with this young man as the street lights shined brightly, up until the second story windows then faded into a dim light backdrop for our moonlight setting; it gleamed on our faces like we were born for the spotlight. There was just enough reflecting to tell when we allowed our eyes to blink from the stale air; just enough to see the intrigued look that faded away as we tilted our heads down toward each others slow paced feet kicking against the brick wall.

He carried a camera around his neck that hung just even with his waist, and a notebook small enough to fit into his roughly faded jeans pocket. He made traveling through the wooded area of my back yard seem exciting. His opinion about life experiences made me eager for his intellect. I like the way he walks with his hands in his pockets, all but his thumbs tucked in; his shoulders hunched and his eyes always watching the paces he would take.

“Don’t you know that catchy phrase—you have to look up every once in awhile or you might miss something” I said. “Everything that has reached its lowest point, has it rock bottom, well that just seems more realistic to me. I watch the ground because it’s more comforting to me", he said. “Besides, every time I glance in your direction your eyes are glued down too.” His smirks made me break my lack-of-emotional expression every time. So I replied, “ If I don’t keep an eye on the very thing that’s holding me up, I’m afraid I’ll slip, and the timing is never right.” We both nodded, and I realized he understood me because as I went to lean against the wall of that old apartment building he took my hand and held it there, never speaking a word. It wasn’t an intimate gesture, but a comforting way of showing he understood.

The entire summer we spent every waking moment together. Neither of us wanted to address the fact that when August came we’d be going out separate ways. He’d be off on more adventures where his snap shots told a more beautiful and expressive story than a thousand words ever could, and I’d be off trying to keep myself busy so I don’t have to actually figure out how to live.

I think I fell in love with his ambition. And I was jealous of his attitude toward life. He said I’m just like him, but I won’t let myself live the life I want to live, the life that really defines me. It felt like we never stopped holding hands until the day I came to say good-bye. I’ve never seen him angry, but he was furious at the fact I was just walking away.

Come on, for once in your life let yourself feel what you are actually feeling. Don’t run away from this, take a chance on hurt for once. Haven't ever you considered that it could hurt to love someone, but in the most beautiful way? “So this is it?” he asked. “Should we go on pretending we didn’t see something in each other, should I pretend we never felt anything like you want to? Will these hundreds of photographs tell any sort of truth?”

There was this visionary boy with a backpack full of dreams that came true with every stop he would take along the way. The only thing he had to give up was relationships of any kind. He made a pact with himself; the only thing he’d ever get attached to would be his works of art.

There I was. I always make people break rules, and I always make people regret it. When he told me he loved me I almost fell apart. No one ever understands the way she thinks. If she stays he’ll put his dreams on hold. His entire routine will come to an end. I love this boy. The collection of photographs we have, as we both posed together for self-timed moments are priceless. I could walk away from this, guarantee he goes on doing what he has been before he met me.

Hey, how does it end—we always wake up right before the final finale of our perfect dream.

imposture @ 2004-05-08T23:45:00

2004-05-09T03:47:35Z

it must be Valentines Day
because everyone is falling in love
oh artificial love
we buy it in a shape of a heart
in greeting cards, four dollars a pop
loves a bargain and the best part is
after the official day is over
everything is marked down
half price on my heart darling
it’s a solid steal.

imposture @ 2004-05-05T00:59:00

2004-05-05T05:11:21Z

1. My name is Kimberly, but I've come to realize people only refer to me as Kimberly in serious moments/situations.
2. I've lived in the same house my entire life, and I appreciate that.
3. For the first time in my life, that I can recall, we have no pet dog. This tears me up inside.
4. I have a kitty cat who I named puddy. All previous owned cats were named "kitty".
5. I spend a lot of time with my 16 month niece because I want to make sure I'll always be a huge part of her life.
6. I believe in promises.
7. I can be really mean when I want to.
8. It takes a lot for me to trust someone, but sometimes I come across someone and their first impression is so bold it intrigues me, and I feel I could get attached to them.
9. I don't think those who get attached easily have the problem, but those who can't become attached do.
10. Within a year, not a school year mind you, but a year I'll have completed four semesters as a full time student.
11. I really don't feel proud about this, because I can't seem to acknowledge what I've done, but only what I have yet to do.
12. My favorite color has changed a lot, but for a year now it has remained red.
13. I'm a bundle of unprocessed thought.
14. My only goal in life is to keep having goals.
15. I have two sisters and a brother-in-law.
16. If I were something in nature, I'd be a tree. All my leaves are differen colors, no pattern is the same, and every season I strip myself and blossom a-new.
17. I'm online a lot but never really there.
18. I've lost a lot in this past year, but I'm still trying advance.
19. I love embracing everyday, no matter if my feelings change drastically throughout it.
20. I'm addicted to adult swim.
21. I'm only eighteen years old.
22. High School isn't everything, it didnt destroy me, and it certainly won't define who I will become as an adult.
23. I don't want to grow up, but I don't want to go back either.
24. Reality is a hard thing to fight, but my dreams always seem to win when a challenge takes place.
25. Not a lot of people know my middle name.
26. I forgive for me, not because you need me to.
27. Maybe it is a gift we give ourselves.
28. I don't think ignorance is bliss, I think it's an excuse we use to sell ourselves short.
29. Time forgets.
30. In five years I know I'll still be writing in this journal.

imposture @ 2004-05-03T23:30:00

2004-05-04T03:30:38Z

I’m learning to live my days without you, it’s ironic I have to say, because I never realized I was living my days with you. But then I realized living them with you is the same as living them amongst you. I find it so hard keeping track of a ghost; keeping track or someone you can’t see with your eyes, but constantly feel with your heart and mind. Maybe I feel with a touch too, not mine, but the way you always pass by me when I’m always alone. This past weekend as I was laughing with my sisters walking through an entrance, I went to pull open the glass door and I swear I saw a young man sitting on a bench against the wall on the other side, when I walked through the door and glanced over no one was there. I casually mentioned how I just scared myself because I could of swore someone was sitting there. Later on in the car we were talking about the loved ones who have died this past year. I told them because maybe they didn’t realize, that I’ve dealt with three deaths in less than a year. It had only been about eight. Kristy mentioned something about seeing Heather sometimes, and I said I see Jacob a lot, like today I knew it was him on that bench. Then it occurred to me that was the place we first met. How time flies by when you know someone, how times flies by when you know someone that’s died. When you celebrate something that deals with consecutive years it’s a birthday, an anniversary, or a milestone. But what is a death, we don’t celebrate mourning. They don’t sell confetti for how many years someone has passed. When soldiers die in the line of duty the term is called “fallen”. Where did they fall to? Why isn’t it raised? Today three soldiers had risen. Let us give a moment of silence for each of them. This past Sunday my parents came home with a birthday candle and my mother explained they had passed them out to represent a new life. I have a whole pack of them in my hands; will it bring them back? If not I’ll light these eight-seven dusty candles and make a wish on every burnt out flame. You’ll know it’s me, the smoke always spells out my name.

imposture @ 2004-04-28T22:36:00

2004-04-29T02:43:49Z

my bed's not worn in but the sheets are all a mess
because i kick my feet like i'm trying to swim
in an ocean with no water but i'm fearing i may drown
in the sand spread across the bottom
because i'm always falling down
i leave trails of s.o.s
i throw notes in bottles out to the ocean
they float back to the shore with replies
"save yourself, you're not worth my time"
tried to build a shelter but it keeps falling down
i seee footprints in the sand like a map trying to lure me in
but it deceivingly leads me back to the water
and i never learned to swim.

imposture @ 2004-04-28T08:24:00

2004-04-28T12:26:03Z

oh, how we are all desperately trying to fall out of love.

imposture @ 2004-04-27T00:34:00

2004-04-27T04:45:03Z

I don't know the meaning of forget. And how you can go all day long making sure you don't have time to breathe, come back to the place that's not your home, exhausted from your day you try to crawl into bed and fall asleep but you found out when you weren't looking, because time wouldn't allow you to, someone had gone and forced your eyes open. Someone broke the switch to allow your mind to be at ease, and someone made the world around you distorted so you can't see clearly anymore. I know the meaning of forgive. And how you always give those second chances a thousand times. The number doesn't change and neither do they. this is the eighty-fifth time I've asked for a second chance. When you give your dreams to someone who forgot to imagine some. When you let someone borrow your hopes because they never cared. When you lose sight of what you've wanted because you were too busy making sure everyone else found theirs. It's the aftermath when time runs out and you're left with what you're holding. But your hands are full of everyone elses life and they all scatter to take them back.

When a stranger asks what you want to be and you say "myself". When the question "what do you want to do with your life when you grow up" becomes "what do you want to do with your life".

You learn to just not care.

imposture @ 2004-04-23T23:40:00

2004-04-24T03:40:39Z

350 days I’ve lived without you, that’s 350 days I’ve thought of reasons to why you could have did this to me, but nothing is valid, nothing comes remarkably close to making sense. But you never thought about that. You couldn’t have considered the end result. You think leaving behind a few pages contained on napkins left in your hands justifies what you have done to me? You think sorry could ever relieve this pain that follows after my name. You have made sorry lose all meaning. People tell me as the years go by you’ll learn to cope; the pain will still be there but you will have found remedies to make it easier to bare. I can’t believe that, because it hasn’t been a year and every day seems to get worse and worse. My calendar is filled with x’s, each day I mark another one off. “Another day down, another day I survived without you here.” You promised forever, forever turned out to be nothing more than five years. I swear when I say that this pain has become my shadow, and I will feel it forever I mean forever. For as long as I can feel, and think. That and my love for you will always live on. You see, my love for you was real. Because after you betrayed me, I cried because I felt alone. After you took the easy way out I promised myself, for your sake, I’d fight for the both of us. You said I was your crutch, but I didn’t realize you were mine. So when I promised to fight for the both us, I didn’t know I’d have to do it on my own. I didn’t know I’d have to start all over again, that I had lost everything I ever had faith in and relied on. As years go by it’ll be harder and harder because I’ll have all the days without you to recap. Except wanting you to come back is a lost cause. That first week of may I’ll no longer wait for your call because we had distanced ourselves from each other. I won’t hear from your father anymore because he can’t stand to know I knew you better than he had. That I meant more then he ever would. I’ll just think about all the times I started to lose my mind; how I was so close from throwing everything I’ve worked for away because I lost sight of why I should keep fighting. I’ll always have this lump that sits in my throat from loving you but trying to hold back the tears because I failed you. Your death will be on my resume of life. Best friend: failed lover: failed. Would it have been enough? Would sharing the same feelings you did have been enough Jacob? You’re going to be the boy I’ll always talk about with the most respect. You’re going to be the boy that inspired me and made me want to keeping living. But I’m the girl who failed. When I look in the mirror I see this clearly visible nametag that states, “Survived a suicide”, if you loved me so much, why’d you make me your victim. You told me things in that letter that are suppose to make me want to live, to embrace life to the fullest. Why didn’t you read emails I sent to you that week telling you all the reasons you should be proud you never gave up? I am so lost I am so lost Jacob. I keep writing letters to you hoping you’ll read them and reply. I wrote you a response to yours, but suicides notes come in packages with no return address. So Jacob, which direction should I stand when I read them to you at night?

imposture @ 2004-04-22T23:13:00

2004-04-23T03:24:43Z

Today I woke up with a heartache. I walked around all day listening to whispers coming from over my shoulder. I saw reflections that caught my eye and made me wonder. I thought I saw you, I thought I saw everyone I ever loved. The humidity gave way to rain and the sky had become overcast. I don't care much for the weather changing my moods, so I didn't let it today. I walked around with a tired smile because I missed home. I always miss home. I pack up my life every week. I don't want to complain. I'm not complaining. I enjoy my family, I enjoy school. I keep myself busy to avoid having to be social. I have friends, I love them dearly. Sometimes I go all day long counting down how many hours until I can sleep again. I stare at the clock asking it to turn back time so I can rest my eyes. I feel like I've learned so much and failed so many things, all in the same breath. I hope they even out. I hope at the end of the day I didn't hurt anyone, I didn't make them feel unloved unless they deserved it. I hope I made an impact on someone enough for them to think about me. I hope I said something to make someone smile or laugh. I know I did. One day I'll wake up and the need to make people who have hurt and betrayed me but still make feel important to me, disappear. I won't feel compelled to make them happy even though they've destroyed my confidence in some way. I will. Someday.

imposture @ 2004-04-21T22:29:00

2004-04-22T02:40:23Z

a penny for your thoughts and a quarter
to keep them to yourself
or a dime, or a nickel
today i walked around in the sun
you can tell because my skin caught the sun
slightly pink against my naturally tanned skin
like i'm permanantly blushing
everyone is out in crowds walking the street
because summer is almost near
and everyones a sucker for that cool breeze
she was sitting in the rocking chair and told me
she loved the smell of fresh air and sunny days
i didnt get what she meant about the smell of sun
until i laid in the grass with my eyes close and took
a deep breath, i could feel it beaming on me
and for a second the warmth felt like a hug
you're a picture they put behind the frame
you know, the type of lingering memory we
keep around but hidden so no one knows
no one likes to recall a tragedy
but what if you died and was reborn at the same time
what life ended and started in the same instance
and you're just trying to find out which way to go
he said there is no direction in life
no matter what way you go no one is every going to be
ahead of you, so keep walking
youll know when its your time to stop

imposture @ 2004-04-19T22:19:00

2004-04-20T02:22:00Z

First nine months of her life there are pictures with her covered in electrodes, and every memory attached to those stack of months a tear is shed for the love of her father pacing back and forth the night she was born, keeping tabs on his baby daughter. This portable machine was a lifesaver and annoyance at the same time. When she'd stop breathing it'd kick on and force her to breathe again. Her mother carried it around like a fourth child, needing it to survive. In the middle of the night their eldest daughter, only age seven, would run in the room and peer through the railings of the crib praying her for little sister to breathe again. She would run to wake her parents up, because this time they slept through the sound; exhausted from the sleepless nights before.
When she was two there is a picture of her leaning against a man's stomach, she's in yellow and he is wearing a light blue T-shirt with dark blue jeans. You can clearly tell it's her father, because as this three-year-old child poses for the camera her hand gently rests upon him, as if she were waiting to be held by familiar hands.
Three years old and her mother's lying sick in bed for days. She kneels down beside her and lays a hand on her head. "Dear God, make my mommy better again. Amen." She use to sing all day long, making up the words as she goes. Everyone would listen and laugh at her, never realizing this was a trait that'd never fade.
One time I buried a penny in my back yard under a rock, the rain began to fall and I was forced to go inside. Three hours later the sun had came out and I was able to go back outside. I went to dig up the penny under the rock and it was gone. There was a worm there in its place. This still seems to amaze me. I always thought from there on out, until an older age, that you could buy worms for a penny, as long as its raining.
My sister and I were fighting and I threw a glass at her. It shattered against the wall. I was never more scared in my life.
My sister and I were fighting and I pushed her into a gun cabinet. The glass shattered around her and I was never more scared in my life.
Being six years old and watching TV in our living room as my older sister age twelve was making "Indian pudding" for a school project. She had to stack pans for the water to boil properly. Next thing I knew my sister screamed the most fierce and terrifying scream you'll ever hear in your life. She flew around the corner of counter and pulled down her pants and I watched skin from her legs come with it. She had dropped the boiling hot water on herself from the waist down. I watch the ambulance slam the doors shut and take her away. I remember my father putting bandages on her legs as she screamed. I remember the bubbles that formed weeks later and my sister forgetting to put the cream in the fridge so it'd be soothing, as she had to apply it. I remember the wheel chair she had to use for school.
I was jumping on my parent's bed with my best friend and I fell and hurt my knee. It was such a piercing pain. I moved my hand and blood started to pour from behind it. A spring and came through sliced my knee an inch long.
We were all sledding with some of our friends near a pond. Monica's dad told us someone he knew had drowned in that pond. It was frozen over and at the far end, but we were still scared. The little boy that came with us was sledding and veered toward the other side of the hill near the lake. We all started running to catch him. That end wasn't completely frozen. I ran as fast as I could and leaped for the end of his jacket and missed. I watched as he slid toward the water. My sister jumped and missed too. We laid their in shock expecting the worst. The little boy stopped an inch from the icy surface. We all think that man who drowned didn't miss.
We were playing hide and go seek with my cousins and they locked me in the closet. I cried so hard because I was afraid of the dark. They always left me behind. I remember sitting out by the fire two years ago with one of those cousins and we were recalling old memories. I told him mine weren't so positive. He asked why and as I told him he gazed away and apologized. I told him they were still good memories to me, because I was with my family and that's everything.
We had chicken nuggets and got a tank top and matching shorts. They were identical except mine was purple and hers were pink.
We got three bunnies for Easter once. Two little brown ones for Kristy and I. Jamie got a huge, long one, which later suffocated ours. I was feeding it raisins once and it bit my finger.
My grandmother use to baby-sit my little cousin. When he was about three and I was eleven I use to make mustard and cheese sandwiches to share with him. He'd always be sitting by the screened door when she had it open, so I'd come up to it and talk with him. I always did love my family, no matter what the age difference once.
I always wanted to fly. We had this swing set with a horse that you could sit on and swing. It was a unicorn I guess. I kept asking my sister to push me higher and higher. Well, I got my wish, the old worn out swing set must have rusted the bolts because she pushed me so hard that the entire unicorn broke free from the swing set and took flight. It was the best ride of my life.
One summer we played kick ball every day from dawn to dusk. My dad spray painted bricks blue for bases. I love the smell of grass, and the cold feeling it leaves against your skin after you've laid in it for an hour watching the sunset take shape.
The first soccer game we lost I cried. My sister broke her finger and my dreams where shattered. I was only eight, I didn't know any greater tragedy beyond failure.
I still remember making my first goal and the feeling I got afterwards. I'm eighteen now and I still get the chills up my spine when I pass the soccer field. Those are my childhood glory days. I'll take my kids to that field. I tell them I made the goal. I'll wish they'd have the chance to feel what being a winner is like several times throughout their life.
I broke my mother's most meaningful angel. It was the one her father had given her. I was dusting them so they looked pretty sitting there on display. I went to gently move it and I had hit the wooden top of the coffee stand. I tried to fix it but it remains with one wing to this day. Maybe it's an epiphany. Maybe you can still be beautiful with one wing. Maybe that angel had many hardships in her life, and though she is imperfect, she's still heaven's daughter.
My sister got a ring when she went to the Dominican Republic. I remember Kristy and I playing with it. I had taken it off and it just broke in two! I was so sad I bawled until Kristy ran and found super glue. She glued it and stuck it back in the exact place we found it. Two days later Jamie went to put it on and it snapped in half. I still remember the exact words she said, "awe man! I broke my ring". Kristy just smiled at me and I tried to keep it in but I began to cry. I confessed that I just wanted to wear that pretty ring for a second and it broke. My sister forgave me. This reminds me of the time I put nail polish all over Jamie's collectable bedroom set. My dad still gets mad to this day about it. Only five hundred were made.
We have a pinball machine. Our friends would come over and think they'd have to put a quarter in it to play it. Silly fools. I wish we could bust that puppy open and get the hundreds of pennies we'd always fed it out.
I don't know what is worse, realizing every year on the certain day you'll now be reminded that she's dead. Going up the road and seeing the cross where she died and knowing it'll never be the same. Sitting the car talking and, without thinking, shutting up as you pass it because it should always be a moment of silence for a lost loved one. Living next door to her family and feeling as if she never really existed. Seeing no pictures unless you are looking for them, in their house. Feeling so shut off and forgetting that you even know these people, let alone them being your own flesh and blood.
I don't know what's worse, finding out your best friend that was so in love with you has killed himself, or realizing everything he said was just one big beautiful lie. That after all this time, he wasn't the one for you. Even though you never believed in the first place. Only because you thought he was far too beautiful for you anyway.
Trying to love but realizing it wasn't what love should be or should have been. Trying not to hurt them by in return just hurting yourself. Finding out believing someone is being truthful and pure isn't the same as them actually being truthful and pure.
I thought if you thought it in your mind that nothing else mattered. Maybe that is true, but the whole key point for that magic to pan out is never finding out it was nothing more than lies.
Nothing is black and white, sink or swim. We all flood a little bit as we try to float. And everyone sees a different shade of black and white because our perceptions are one of a kind. Nothing is going to be cut and dry so the very allusion of it only devastates your hopes more. I think of the worst possible outcome and try to find a solution to remedy it. Because odds are that worst possible outcome will be your outcome more than not.
Life stopped at age 15. I can't remember when I grew up. I don't remember growing up. But everyone in my life tells me I'm an adult. I've been an adult, a responsible one from an early age. I don't remember when time sped up, maybe because I was always too busy waiting for it to stop.
It's funny how I keep writing whatever comes to mind and I can't see the ending to it. Then I realized my life hasn't even begun the process of going downhill; of reaching its end point. My mother told me the other day as soon as we were born we started to live toward death. I've heard this before, As soon as we were born we were slowly dying. But the way she said it stuck in my mind. "Isn't it funny…."

imposture @ 2004-04-18T02:42:00

2004-04-18T06:48:46Z

you're nothing more than a cigarette between his lips
five minutes of pleasure as soon as he lights the tip
it should be a crime to love somebody like you
stale and cold blooded heartbreaker
you've got a desire to shatter dreams, love
and when you come around, i'm always asleep
maybe if she removes all the door handles
you'll stop entering her life
a bruised eye equals a bruised ego
she's got two, one for me and one for you
you said your picture was worth a thousand words
sold it at a pawn shop for fifty cents
i guess talk is cheap these days
and everyones sights are set on the opposite of you

imposture @ 2004-04-17T02:48:00

2004-04-17T06:49:57Z

I just want to know; when you've got nothing to lose, why does it feel like everything's at stake?