tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20139399816137259482024-02-20T18:02:53.365-08:00We dont see things the way they are, we see things the way we areMichael Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092936614921739799noreply@blogger.comBlogger525125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013939981613725948.post-30214674215649261082011-07-14T02:57:00.000-07:002011-07-15T13:48:49.364-07:00Beautiful LifeI love reading through old posts. For better or worse. They all make me feel good.<br />And help remind me exactly what I believe.<br /><br />And how far I've come.Michael Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092936614921739799noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013939981613725948.post-91351719156216906572011-07-14T02:29:00.000-07:002011-07-14T02:50:46.097-07:00Taking a realistic view and cultivating a proper motivation can also shield you against feelings of fear and anxiety. - Dalai LamaI am letting go of all passive aggressiveness in my life and mind. That train of thinking really just brings anger to me. To stay present, and to be honest is is so important. I promise myself to be honest with what I feel when I need to, and to keep my intentions clear...<br /><br />Because everything else will only lead you to what you don't want.<br />An open heart is an open mind.Michael Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092936614921739799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013939981613725948.post-15816903589387932022011-03-05T21:06:00.000-08:002011-03-05T21:53:36.057-08:00I've gone about two weeks without talking to my mom which really isn't normal for us. But the last few days we have. Sometimes I have to remind her about what we talked about the night before. When I call I always know what sort of mood she's in by the sound of her voice. Most days, she's sounding depressed. And others I can hear the slur in her words. It really doesn't get to me much. <br /><br />I can't control how I feel tonight though. I want to visit her now that she's in recovery from her surgery. She's lonely lately. I can hear it more and more every time we talk how much she needs to see me. I originally wanted to pay for this ticket. I've been wanting to do that for a while now... Just surprise her. Call her and tell her that it's all lined out, and tell her no when she offers to pay me back. She ended up deciding to pay for the ticket, I told her I'd call her back when I had all the information lined up to where I just have to enter her card number. I picked the dates, I picked my seat, I was so excited. Not a whole lot can really excite me as much as going to see my mom. I've been really looking forward to this. I don't see anybody anymore, but I'm sort of starting to feel uneasy with the fact that I'm still here, I'm not doing anything with my time, and I have people trying to get a hold of me that I'm mostly turning down. I'm not ready to give myself, until I feel in control of my own life. Until I get back up on my two feet. I don't feel like I want to stay in this town anymore. I know that's not an option right now... But getting away was a perfect one. My moms house frees me from everything. <br /><br />When I called her back she was crying. She dropped the phone down next to her and all I heard was screaming and yelling, and her voice was so much more slurred than it was before we hung up. She's saying to Walt please don't. He's asking her to just leave him alone. When she grabbed the phone, "Michael we'll, let's, can we, lets plan this tomorrow." I said okay. "Walt's leaving me. He just walked out the door. He's leaving. He's not coming back." Her voice fades out and she's balling again. It's a knife in my heart when I hear my moms voice when she's crying. <br /><br />Just last night she called me all upset thinking I was being sent away from my dad since I was fired from both of my jobs. No matter how much I told her it wasn't true, and how much I kept telling her I see this as a blessing, she put this whole situation together in her head that nothing was okay. I didn't get it. I kept thinking maybe there's something I should be worried about... Why was she so afraid? When she called again this morning she hardly remembered the conversation, but was filled in by Walt that she was just taking what was real and making it into something so much worse. I felt like tonights situation was the same. I think Walt needed space. I think he wanted to be away from her when she was drunk. I tried telling my mom that. I know she was just drinking more in between every time we got off the phone. I told her she needs to stop. Which might of been pointless... She was already drunk. She told me she wants to die, and told me to leave her alone. She hung up the phone and she unplugged the line. What scared me about this was that's something my mom would never do, or say to me. She knows how much I love her. And she loves me all the same. She's just upset... Don't take it personal. But my heart was beating so fast and I couldn't stop crying, or catch my breath. I called back again about 20 minutes later and she finally answered. I wanted her to know Walt ism't going to leave her. She said she was leaving. I kept asking where, and she wouldn't tell me. Now my hearts accelerating even faster than before and I want to scream at her but I can't even put into words. I just keep listening to her "I'm leaving, I'm not staying here. I can't stay here. I don't know what to do with myself." I'm yelling at her, "You're not going anywhere. You're not driving." She told me a friend was coming to get her, but she wouldn't tell me her name. We spent a good ten minutes arguing back and fourth until she could tell me who was coming to get her. I kept asking her why she had to lie to me. "Michael I'm gonna go. If I stay here I'm not going to be okay." I started telling her how much I love her, and how much Walt loves her and she interrupts me, "Walt won't love me anymore... I want to swallow a whole bottle of pills." I set down the phone and I started crying. I wanted to hang up at this point, because she was just hurting me, but I couldn't. I heard the front door open and while my mom was saying she loved me, but she had to go, I asked to talk to whoever was there. <br /><br />A lady that lives down the street from her, one of her good friends, Cindy answered the phone. I was crying to much to talk, and I couldn't even think of anything to say, but the fact that someone was there to get her was enough for me. I told Cindy, just let her know that her Walt and I love her more than anything in the world. <br />"I'll do that. Your moms in good hands. She'll be okay." And that was it. She left me the phone number she'll be at, and I called once, but they didn't answer.<br /><br />I'm disappointed in my mom. And always letting the alcohol take control, and always choosing worse case scenario over thinking things through, every single time. I was yelling so loudly until my voice was strained, I was scaring my dad and Susan in the house tonight because they didn't know what was going on. Because of the fact that my mom wouldn't give me a name of who was coming and getting her. I had to assume she was lying, I had to assume she was going to leave, and drive somewhere again. Until Cindy came on the phone I was terrified that I would never hear from her tomorrow. Am I just the same as my mom when it comes to my anxiety? Now I'm sitting here waiting for her call. I can breathe now, because I know she's safe. But I don't want to go through this with my Mom every night. I wish she could chose our love over the bottle. I wish I could know that I'm going to be leaving in just a couple days on a plane to be with her. My dad tells me that I can't keep doing this to myself. He brings up that maybe there's a reason David backed away from her. But I could never imagine. I would never let her go through life without me. I know that's her biggest fear, losing all of us. It's my biggest fear too. Nothing would feel right without my mom. But I don't know how many more days I can go through my life with my worry for my mom constantly in the back of my mind. I take it all on to myself. And I know tonight I can't fall asleep, and I just want to feel okay. <br /><br />I just want her to remember that she is loved. Despite what she has done. Despite what has <span style="font-style:italic;">ever</span> happened. She doesn't have to be afraid anymore...Michael Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092936614921739799noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013939981613725948.post-33570043059534660922011-02-22T16:14:00.000-08:002011-02-22T17:15:53.215-08:00A simple plan for life is change, find yourself the nicest range, then you see the light...I spend more time running around on my own lately, and staying at my parents house simply because I'm not as interested in some of the friends or the lifestyle I'm around now or have been around for too many years. It's okay to be bored, or to want something <span style="font-style:italic;">new</span>, or to not stay with something just because it's all you've got at the time. I remember living by the day, and I remember being with people who didn't complain so much about who or what they don't have, what they don't want. We were already happy and entertained with each other. We didn't bring people in and out that we had no interest in, just so we had people around. We didn't get thrills off conflict, or carefully work around each others feelings so we don't offend. Where we didn't move at a slower pace cause we weren't busy reflecting back on things that have happened. It never had to feel so forced just to enjoy ourselves and we didn't worry so much about representing ourselves or our pride the wrong way, because we didn't take ourselves so seriously all the time.<br /> <br />I'd rather walk out on my own, than settle for what <span style="font-style:italic;">doesn't</span> make me happy.<br /><br />As long as I can stay focused and happy going towards what I <span style="font-style:italic;">do</span> want, I believe I'll get settled in on something I feel more than right with. I don't think it's that I'm never pleased. I just want the best for myself. Sometimes you can't have it all at once, but there shouldn't be so many acceptations... What I desire is what I deserve.Michael Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092936614921739799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013939981613725948.post-64021954804319770832011-02-20T15:22:00.000-08:002011-02-20T16:55:00.660-08:00I think it's safe to say that my biggest problem has always been I don't let myself completely pursue, enjoy, or even think about something until I know it's the right decision, or if it fits for someone else.<br /><br />I think at some point I lost trust in my life. And I tried to take control of almost every aspect. Manufacturing it so I would never have to come across something that would bring me back to this emotionally vulnerable person I have been constantly trying to forget existed. Being shielded makes you feel like you have something to look out for. Instead of having faith in myself, I tried to keep myself in line. I don't believe that's living. <br /><br />It's exhausting to work around other peoples feelings before you handle your own. And I think that truly has continued to batter me down as a person. It's scary to think that being too selfish might leave you alone. Do I really have to worry about that? Doing good for me has been my main focus lately. It's really easy to get wrapped up in perspectives. All of a sudden you're watching yourself through every eye in the room. I try to remember to always make myself the most comfortable everywhere I go, and comfort will surround me back. It proves every time. That confidence in yourself is the most important thing you can conquer. It can get you anywhere. <br /><br />I give <em>myself</em> as my second option, it makes it so easy to find my way out. Sometimes I'm convinced I'm happier without people. I think I do have weaknesses in the form of friends. I think I always have. I have a lot of people that doubt me. But criticism scares me and moves me. There's people who are really just trying to push the best out of me, and people who are trying to point out the worst. It's getting a lot easier to pick and chose what's good for me and what's not. But sometimes it's hard to narrow it down... what you really prefer, what's really a problem, and what's worth waiting out.<br /><br />Before Cammisha left for Portland we drove around for about an hour in my car talking about this and that, but mostly our living situations. She said she was afraid of what I was going to become without her. She said, "I think there's a lot of people in your life that don't see the beauty in the person you really are." I disagreed because I had a lot of people who loved what I was. But it took me a while to figure out that I wasn't always being real with myself. It's hard to get respect for the person you are, when you don't know who you're even being. That sounds so stupid, but I've spent a lot of time trying to make myself a perfect match for everybody I'm faced with. I'm gifted with it. But it became much more than just a habit. The more I pretended, the more I drew in things and people that I didn't want. I'm done dimming myself down for any negativity in somebody else. We are all fixated on what we want, and I don't think you should ever try to change somebodys mind.<br /><br />I finally have trust back in my life and in my instinct. <br />If I ever thought that it isn't possible to be happy with yourself if at <em>all</em> moments somebody else isn't, I was so wrong.Michael Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092936614921739799noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013939981613725948.post-44795589258533886352011-02-15T01:31:00.000-08:002011-02-15T02:17:29.558-08:00"When are you happy?"<br />"Maybe I give off the impression that I'm never happy."<br /><br />"I'm not happy in the club. I'm not happy in the movie theater. I'm happy when I'm doing things that I never thought I could do, but that I prayed that one day I would be able to do."<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">"My happiness doesn't come from money...or fame. My happiness comes from seeing life without struggle."</span><br /><br /><object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" width="420" height="340" id="gorillaPlayer_bosp003"><param name="swliveconnect" value="true"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><param name="movie" value="http://cdn.springboard.gorillanation.com/storage/xplayer/yo033.swf"><param name="flashvars" value="e=4bffc0037b3a3a49328d685cccfc7c21cc002973d57a44951a38fddf065f5c696a66be9b89ee2d2f0947d4e15d253124c7d296b9a2a5d695fdd446d15f64f11765e48b3d7eea9b28f0c2dc0f0b8c62a02723d09accafe3f4ff222bb8b0&width=420&height=340&pid=bosp003&autostart=false&allowscriptaccess=always&usefullscreen=true"><embed src="http://cdn.springboard.gorillanation.com/storage/xplayer/yo033.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" name="gorillaPlayer_bosp003" width="420" height="340" allowscriptaccess="always" swliveconnect="true" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="e=4bffc0037b3a3a49328d685cccfc7c21cc002973d57a44951a38fddf065f5c696a66be9b89ee2d2f0947d4e15d253124c7d296b9a2a5d695fdd446d15f64f11765e48b3d7eea9b28f0c2dc0f0b8c62a02723d09accafe3f4ff222bb8b0&width=420&height=340&pid=bosp003&autostart=false&allowscriptaccess=always&usefullscreen=true&esnapshot=4bffc0037b3a3a493b90685cccfc7c21cc002973d57a44951a38fddf065f5c696a66be9b89ee2d2f094ccde2702233248cc5acbea7a6db8fb1c24c9f4679fd1d69b8967e2fa1cd689d83865a42ca25ff7c4c8fc682fca9acbf7e60eded8712a6b6&trueurl=not available"></embed></object>Michael Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092936614921739799noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013939981613725948.post-46191844116048970732010-08-26T03:25:00.000-07:002010-08-30T00:07:19.945-07:00Separate'<em>Forget where your body lies and I'll forget mine as well</em><br /><em>you have as much hope as you have hopelessness</em><br />but can you identify just what keeps you down like this<br /><br /><em>Do you feel the pain<br />Or do you feel the memory?</em><br /><br /><em>Whether you're sound asleep, whether I'm wide awake<br />Brother, you live and breathe, whether I've gone away</em><br />Do you pass through the world lost in the rendering<br /><em>of life as it felt before estranged to the passing day?</em><br />Do you feel the rain<br />Or do you feel the memory?<br /><br />There's no need to get depressed<br /><em>there's no need for anxiousness<br />'cause the words won't come easy<br />there's more to your work than this</em><br /><br /><big>Do you feel the pain...<br />Or do you feel the memory'</big>Michael Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092936614921739799noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013939981613725948.post-90230266780181639872010-08-26T02:49:00.000-07:002010-08-26T03:40:23.121-07:00The hope I have for you. I want the world for you.I'm in portland sitting on the yacht at Pat's boat house. Matthew's next to me, and Stephanie's sitting down with Saleigh in her lap. It's our last night with Matthew. I really wanted to grasp it. He's here today, he's gone tomorrow. I couldn't stop looking at the time, and counting down how much of it we had left. My phone goes off and I look down, "We're here." And my stomach dropped. <br /><br />There was an hour left with him, and I was leaving.<br />I was getting picked up from my friends.<br />I left on my last night with my older brother. Goodbye was going to happen at some point, and it was now.<br /><br />Matthew was always the stubborn one. He was also the most protective one... He looked out for every single thing I did, and put his whole heart into helping me out of my ruts. I love him for staying up with me all night on my last week of senior year so I could graduate. And for covering for me all of the times I would throw parties at the house while my dad was gone. Even though all I used to do was get him in trouble. He doesn't show how much he cares all of the time, infact sometimes I convinced myself that he hated me. But then the suprise of him proving me wrong makes me more grateful than ever. When he shows he really does care, and really does want me around, it's an acceptance that I can't get from anybody else. I love him for his honesty. For his ambitions. Everything was wrapping together right there and then. When I'm in town to visit, he won't be there. For Christmas, he won't be there. A picture of his face, and his memory in my heart is all I have to take with me. When I got in the car Mitchell and Avieta were playing music so loud that I was drowned out. My phone went off again and it was Matthew this time, "Hey man don't worry that you had to leave. It means a lot that you come up here. Stephanie and I were talking about hiring you to take pictures at our wedding. You're very talented and would love if you could. Best luck to you in Portland. I love you bro!"<br /><br />A little after I left, my brother couldn't keep down his nervousness. He ended up in the bathroom getting sick while my dad sat silently waiting for him on the couch. When he came out, he grabbed his things and they went to the car. My dad had to take him back to the hotel. Matthew said how much he loved my dad, and said goodbye, and walked with Stephanie to the front doors. They cried in each others arms. I can't imagine the pain, or the distance. My dad stayed in the car crying and gave them their time. Before Matthew went back in he wiped his face dry with the sleeve of his shirt and waved them goodbye. And that was it.<br /><br />In Mitchell's car I looked out the back window and saw Portland in the distance as we drove off on the freeway. I started crying. I had such a mix of emotions. It was an overwhelming, happy, cry. Matthew left... And I'm leaving too. I'm going my separate way with every single person in my life and I don't know how to feel about it anymore. I'm saying goodbye to all of the most important parts of myself. But I know that I feel lucky. I'm so lucky. So incredibly lucky. I have been collecting hearts all of my life. And I am so strong because of the inspiration I get from the people I love around me. I am so lucky for the things they've done for me. Thing's they probably didn't even know they've done for me.<br /><br />I have so much hope for the people in my life. <br />I just don't know what <em>I'm</em> going to be without them.Michael Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092936614921739799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013939981613725948.post-73603982803961828362010-08-17T02:12:00.001-07:002010-08-17T15:22:02.616-07:00You can make a plan, carve it into stone, like a feather falling it is still unknown.When Amanda left Matthew he lost his head. He spent days making one call after another to my mom begging her for advice. He was so terrified that love would never come back to him. Matthew and I are actually exactly the same when it comes to our fears. Except the difference is he begs for people to give him answers, and me, I'm just asking all of those questions to myself in my head.<br /><br />Stephanie brought back his faith. They've been together for a while now, and I've never seen him so happy in my whole life. We have six more days with him until he leaves for the army... And last night he told everybody him and Stephanie are engaged. <br /><br />I spent the whole day babysitting her four year old daughter, Saleigh. While I'm sitting in the grass watching her run around she runs over and sits down on her knees next to me. I look over and smile, she smiles back with a chocolate frosting outline around her lips. Matthew pulls up in his car and Saleigh gasps for air, stands up and starts running towards him. He gets out and grabs her, holding her in the air while she's laughing loudly and kicking her feet. I was the happiest person in the world. Seeing happiness in my family doesn't compare to any amount of money, any chemical release of seretonin, any place in the world. It's the only thing I want. <br /><br />While we sit downstairs he says, "I feel so lucky. You know? How all of this just fell into place for me." We talked about how everything feels like it's fixed. When we're in love we don't want to be anywhere else. When we lose love we're so certain that we are stuck in a forever loveless life. "It's hope that gets us through it all. No matter how hard it can be to believe in sometimes." <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1hPg7DfSgn62rmEN8fnL9kpVCNWmvv613hjupTg7H1GkzwZA5KrJ9HONebYmLEDpIADt0P2jQuKr3z04vHsReQ6ne64kf9cm3RlOX8XX2ZFxFUA_mWVyenCqcbvzYqBIgUpKwRADi2Ro/s1600/DSC_0907.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1hPg7DfSgn62rmEN8fnL9kpVCNWmvv613hjupTg7H1GkzwZA5KrJ9HONebYmLEDpIADt0P2jQuKr3z04vHsReQ6ne64kf9cm3RlOX8XX2ZFxFUA_mWVyenCqcbvzYqBIgUpKwRADi2Ro/s400/DSC_0907.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506498207861599250" /></a><br /><br />Who knows if any of us end up where we expect.<br />But I'm not afraid anymore. I'm sure it will be in the hands of something beautiful.Michael Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092936614921739799noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013939981613725948.post-41277274842166586472010-08-13T05:02:00.000-07:002010-08-13T05:09:48.008-07:00If time doesn't run out, than neither will I.<em>Everyone's afraid of their own life </em><br />If you could be anything you want <br />I bet you'd be disappointed, am I right?<br />No one really knows the ones they love <br />If you knew everything they thought <br />I bet that you'd wish that they'd just shut up<br /><br />Well, you were the dull sound of sharp math when you were alive <br /><em>No one's going to play the harp when you die</em><br />And if I had a nickel for every damn dime <br />I'd have half the time, do you mind?<br /><br />Everyone's afraid of their own lives <br /><em>If you could be anything you want<br />I bet you'd be disappointed, am I right? </em><br />Am I right? <br /><br /><em>It's our lives</em><br />It's hard to remember, it's hard to remember <br />We're alive for the first time<br />It's hard to remember <em>were alive for the last time</em><br />It's hard to remember, <em>it's hard to remember to live before you die</em><br />It's hard to remember, it's hard to remember <br />That our lives are such a short time<br /><em>It's hard to remember, it's hard to remember when it takes such a long time</em><br />It's hard to remember, it's hard to remember<br /><br /><em>My hell comes from inside, comes from inside myself<br />Why fight this?</em>Michael Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092936614921739799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013939981613725948.post-62995910926231386282010-08-12T15:11:00.000-07:002010-08-12T15:53:14.480-07:00Because the patterns they control your mind, those patterns take away my time.I've never really known if I believe that our past supplies us with our feelings we have now. Or that the things we do are based off of what happened to us. Maybe with somethings. For me I've tried to always keep what's happening, with what happened, separate. I don't know if it's even possible. But there's one connection to my past that I can't ignore. Whenever I couldn't see my mom, or when I had no way to get a hold of her, I would spend hours on end awake. It was the only time I felt truly disconnected from everything else in my life. It wasn't so bad when I was out, or when I was doing something, when I wasn't alone. I used to call my dad to pick me up when I was at friends houses after they fell asleep, and I would cry on the way home. I grew used to not having her with me, but it was her not constantly being involved in my life, no matter what form it was, that would put a hole in my heart. <br /><br />It's not just Stephanie. In fact all along maybe she really didn't even do anything wrong. I was attached and I wouldn't let go because I loved her so much. She wasn't the first to bring out my separation anxiety, and I linked too many of my problems to her. Problems that I've had all of my life. Problems that I still have today. Maybe the patterns of what have happened with my relationships are too drilled into my mind. When some thing's off with my friends, or when I feel like they don't want me around, I feel what I feel when Stephanie and I would be fighting. Or when she was ignoring me, or when she would tell me she doesn't love me. I take on so much by other peoples actions and jump to conclusions in my head before anything has even happened. <br /><br />When I have everything I want in my hands I feel nothing but grateful. I won't let my mind slip into anything negative, and it gives me the strength to keep pushing for more until I'm fully satisfied. My happiness is so dependent on what I am given, and not so much what I give. Then I look at other people and see how differently they handle the opposite... A day alone is a day alone. It doesn't feel like the worst day of their life. An ignored call is their phone slipped back in their pocket, while I can't stop staring at the screen. I hate feeling like I'm not needed. I hate constantly feeling like I'm going to lose everybody I have. And I hate that most of the time, when I think some thing's going wrong, I convince myself there is no other possibility. I jump to the worst before the better. I waste so much of my energy worrying when I don't know the other persons intentions, and I go into panic thinking I can't get it back.<br /><br />I'm never going to learn how to love again if I don't learn how to love myself. I have told myself this so many times. And I really do when I have everything I want.. But what about when I don't? Why do I feel guilty handling my own life when it's not involved with anybody elses emotions? <br /><br />My past is my past. And what I have, is all that I've got. I'm not afraid to tell myself I'm wrong. I don't ever have to be the same person. And I don't want to follow a map I've carved out from my troubles anymore.Michael Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092936614921739799noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013939981613725948.post-67858352769015401262010-08-11T01:00:00.000-07:002010-08-11T01:55:15.155-07:00Hands down I'm too proud for love, but with eyes shut it's you I'm thinking of.I can't control the fact that Stephanie's not in my life anymore. I can't control the fact that I still think about her. But there is no reason to slow down my pace. I've avoided letting my thoughts of her get to my head so much. Because I don't want to be distracted anymore by something I just can't handle. I don't want everything in front of me to be drained out by what I don't have.<br /><br />But what happens when I settle? Is this why I'm so scared to settle?<br />Avieta tells me that I can't think like that. I can't let myself be overtaken by negativity again or else I won't keep moving. I tell myself every day that I'm always home.<br /><br />Maybe one more time seeing her wouldn't even make anything better. There's always some absent feeling when I'm around her now. Now we lay next to each other but we don't touch, and it's a hug goodbye but there's no kiss. There's no I love you. There's nothing of what we had living, except for inside of us. And I just won't let myself get too close. Maybe I could have told her that I still love her, or I could have told her that I moved on but I never let go. That I want her to see my new place and that she can stay with me whenever she's in town. It might of meant nothing. And I'm almost thinking that her saying no to seeing me was the right thing.. it shouldn't have happened.<br /><br />It was my choice to leave. I chose for us to go seperate ways. She might have moved on and let go already, and even if she didn't what would it change? There's no going back anymore. We're not together anymore. Tonight on my way back to town I talked to Avieta about all of the things I'm ready to embrace, and all of the things I'm scared to leave behind, and the things I'm scared to leave undone. I never once said anything about Stephanie. I'll never be able to leave her behind. I feel the distance between us every single day. But I will no matter where I go. There's a whole lot of things I feel I haven't settled here, but I don't know if they need to be. I don't think there's always going to be a conclusion to everything. And that's just something I have to accept.Michael Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092936614921739799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013939981613725948.post-38761849737920780392010-08-09T17:39:00.000-07:002010-08-09T18:08:22.165-07:00And when something falls out of place, I take my time, I put it backWhen I don't want to be alone, I know that I don't have to be.<br />I have people that love me. I always have had people that love me. And being on my own isn't always something that I fear anymore. For once it feels good to make decisions without running it through outcomes first. I've learned myself and what makes me comfortable, and I'm finally continuing to focus on that. I've needed to for a long time.<br /><br />There isn't a whole lot that I feel I can't face. The closer I get towards the end of the month, the more realistic it feels that I'm finally packing up my bags from an old life and taking myself somewhere new. I'm excited, and a little bit scared. But I know I can face it. I feel a genuine happiness I haven't felt for so long.. And I'm running off of a confidence that I've really never had so much of in my life. <br /><br />Now when I'm drifting off, it's not because I'm lost in thought. <br />And now when I can't sleep, its because I'm just excited for tomorrow. I have a lot of faith in my life. And I feel extremely lucky for everything I've had, and for where I'm going.<br /><br />There isn't always a bigger picture... And not everything in life can't always be adjustable. When I don't like the rules, I change them. But there are somethings I can't mend, and other things that won't bend. And as long as I can keep finding my ways to work around that, I'll be fine.Michael Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092936614921739799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013939981613725948.post-44583486720172304912010-06-07T23:07:00.000-07:002010-06-07T23:19:38.948-07:00No one needs to know we're feeling higher, and higher, and higher. higher, and higher, and higher.Fighting to explain yourself, or giving reasoning for your actions is sort of insignificant when you know what you want, and you know that you're getting there. <br /><br />My happiness is finally in my own hands.Michael Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092936614921739799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013939981613725948.post-45833673620538155932010-06-02T17:20:00.000-07:002010-06-03T01:10:31.129-07:00I guess the best that I can do now is pretend that I've done nothing wrong<em>...And to dream about a train that's gonna take me back where I belong.</em><br /><br />I've been at war against my habits and my ways of living for a while now. But it's almost impossible to keep up with something that is constantly changing. I try to keep myself busy off of whatever I can find because I get so terrified of going back into a side of me that I've been trying to escape. I'm coming to terms with the fact that there some things you just can't erase. And some things you just can't change. And all these parts of me I thought I lost a hold of, are finding their way back into place. I have kept myself so trapped in the only thing I thought I could be. Consumed in details, fears, and reasons for why things <em>couldn't</em> be possible. I spent too much time looking through other perspectives that it sort of started to feel like I couldn't even create my own. It became so simple for me to let anything take control of the direction I was going, when I should have been making decisions with all the things I've been leaving undone. Instead I burned all of my plans to the ground, and let myself be carried away.<br /><br />I know there are other options if I don't graduate, but that's not what I'm afraid of as it's getting closer and closer to the day. There's always been a side of me that separates my desires and the all things <em>I have to do,</em> that I see as a waste. I beg for time, and then stare at the clock, with my mind focused on things I fear leaving alone. I know that I always come late in the game, I know all these consquences link back to myself, but I'm still trying to find confidence in my change of effort. I've been running off of no sleep, focusing my time on things I could never make myself do before. I'm not doing it for anybody else, and I feel something new building inside of me that I want to learn how to keep. There are far too many destinations set, and too many reasons to go back. Reasons that sometimes, you just have to ignore. I want a <em>constant</em> motivation to participate in my life again. I need proof of something that will stop the questioning of my ability to keep moving forward. <br /><br />Where we stand is our choice, isn't it? Our life is what we create on our own. No matter how things unfold, I need to remember that there aren't any permanent conclusions to anything that I live. I don't expect to evolve into something greater. I just don't always want to feel like I'm walking on glass. I want my concentration to be attracted to simple things. To learn how to live without staying hidden behind the things I've done. I want to appreciate love given to me, love for my life, and love for myself, without changing my mind, and feeling all the way deserving of it.Michael Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092936614921739799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013939981613725948.post-20664190709976873222010-05-10T19:41:00.000-07:002010-05-10T19:48:13.038-07:00WanderingFall asleep in a comforter nest.<br />The room is yellow, and the windows are dentist white. <br />I smell the ghost of your dinner.<br />And the space heater's glowing like a miniature gate to hell.<br />I hear the dogs as I dress myself.<br /><br />And pen a letter on the back of a paper plate.<br />It tells you that I'm gone now, and I'm sorry if I don't make it back. <br /><br />Well, I know it's a good life.<br /><em>Yeah, I know it's a good life.</em><br /><em>But I gotta keep moving. <br />I was made to keep moving.</em><br /><br />And I know it's a long shot. <em>It was always a long shot. </em><br /><em>But I'm trusting my aim now.</em> Yeah, I'm trusting my aim. <br />And I know it's a good life.<br />Yeah, I know it's a good life.<br />But I gotta keep moving. <em>Gotta stay on the move. </em><br /><br />I had a dream but I called it a plan. <br />A string of hopes that I figured would serve me well. <br />But then the dream turned sour. <br /><em>Sometimes delusions ain't the comfort you want them to be.</em><br /><em>Now I'm broke and my luck's run out.</em><br /><br />My new acquaintances will never be someone to trust.<br />The house is now a graveyard.<br /><em>And it's hard to fall asleep with no one watching your back.</em><br /><br />Well, you got my name. Now it's all the same. <br /><em>It don't mean much, but you can have it all. <br />And I sold my heart for another start.</em><br />I had my fix but I shouldered it off.<br />And now the price is a big one.<br /><br />Well, I had me a good life. <br />Yeah, I had me a good life. <br />But I had to keep moving. I was made to keep moving. <br />And I know that I messed up. Yeah, I know that I messed up.<br /><br />But I still gotta keep moving. Yeah, I still gotta move. <br />And oh, my mind is made up, and I'm no different now.<br /><em>But I follow the questions, because I'm bored with the answers. <br />I'm bored with the answers. </em><br /><br /><em>Sure, I miss a lot. And I'm no better off.</em><br /><em>But sitting idle ain't a thing I was built for. </em><br />I gotta keep moving. I gotta stay on the move.<br />I gotta...Michael Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092936614921739799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013939981613725948.post-4328806226770048482010-05-04T15:43:00.000-07:002010-05-04T19:07:12.707-07:00This hearts on fire, this hearts on fireSometimes my mom still calls me crying, and sometimes she tells me she's lost hope. Sometimes I still get my priorities mixed up, and I still get scared of what I'm doing. Every once in a while it feels like all I really am doing is filling up my time with not much, and I'll wish I could see life as it is, instead of seeing everything as progress. And <em>all the time</em> I think of you, but it's getting easier. And the more I look back the more it starts to feel like a different lifetime. <br /><br />Because it's no longer made up by the way it's played out, and neither am I. I don't hold my love so close, and I'm not so cautious with putting it where it belongs. I'm not who loves me. I'm not my friends, or who I've known. It was nothing but comfortable when I stepped outside for a cigarette with jacob, and I'm not scared anymore to walk into a room full of people. I'm not stuck in something I made myself into. Now I'm laughing and loving and not expecting so much for myself. I'm motivated to step out into all the possibilities, and surround myself with what I deserve. I'm not being disolved from doubt, and I'm not afraid of lost progress. <br /><br />Sometimes even just waking up feels new.<br />And my days pass by in a different way. <br />As I sat in Susans office today, it felt unlike anytime before. The blinds were open and the sun was shining in. She said, "Sometimes we all need a chance to start over." But starting over isn't what this is about, and it's not what I need. <br /><br />I'm just learning how to grow and memorizing all of the things I've learned.<br /><em>It's getting better all the time.. It's getting better all the time..</em>Michael Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092936614921739799noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013939981613725948.post-73039215680396676432010-04-29T03:28:00.000-07:002010-04-29T03:33:08.805-07:00Devil in the Details<em>A house of cards, a supple heart<br />Is not a place to dwell.</em><br /><br /><em>Now you have your cake. Don’t hesitate.</em><br />Come on just do it,<br />Come on just do it<br /><br />Put it in your mouth<br />There is only now<br />Tomorrow has to wait<br /><br />But know there’s no backing out<br /><em>This is gonna be reality<br />You can never dream it down</em><br /><br /><em>I have no way<br />Of telling the two apart</em><br /><br />Well I made amends, in the general sense<br />With the devil’s in the details<br /><br /><em>And I know the cause, and I want to stop<br />But I can’t do it<br />I just can’t do it</em><br /><br />There was love I meant<br />There were accidents<br />So tell me which is which<br /><br />‘Cus I just can’t work it out<br />But for memory and clarity<br />We had better write it down<br /><br />I have no way<br />Of knowing the truth<br />Which time dissolves<br /><br /><em>I put the past into the ground<br />I saw the future as a cloud</em><br />If theres still time to turn around<br /><em>Im going to</em><br /><br /><em>Its just one day I fell asleep</em><br />And now all day all night I dream<br />I am the first one I deceive<br /><br /><strong>If I can make myself believe<br />The rest is easy…</strong>Michael Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092936614921739799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013939981613725948.post-83366038646653279622010-04-26T15:20:00.000-07:002010-04-26T15:41:44.595-07:00To wither in denial, the bitterness of one who's left alone.Every Tuesday I go to Susans office, and it's always just when I need it. A couple days before I left for Mexico I got out of class and called my mom. It was the first of many fights I had with her over the phone, where I lost my control, and then I left myself sitting in the parking lot in my car at school, in shock because of the things we just said. I was in shock of how much I'm really hurting her. Right after I hung up I called Susan in panic and showed up unscheduled. It was my longest session with her, I didn't hold anything in. I felt like I had given her everything. It was relieving and scary to listen to myself. She was quiet after I finished talking. We both were for a while. She does that, she lets me sit there with the things I say and soak them up. She said to me, "I want you to take a look at the things you're saying to me, and I want you to see if you see what I see." I stayed quiet and shook my head. She said, "You spend almost all of your sessions talking about <em>everybody else</em> except for you." <br /><br />When I got back from Mexico, she called my dad and had him join us. She had us say things we remember with each other. I let him do all of the talking, I knew he had a lot to do. He told her, "We were all we had after the divorce. We spent all of our time together." He said, "One of the most painful days for me was after his mom left, I had to take him to find a day care. It didn't matter what one, how expensive, where it was, I wanted him to be at the one he wanted the most, because it's what he deserved. He spent a lot of his time at day cares, after school clubs, carpools home. We were forced to be apart. I was the only dad ever showing up, and picking him up was my favorite part of the day. It was the first day leaving him there that was the hardest part." I remembered my mom had told me about that day, too. Except instead of dropping me off, she was parked across the street crying while I played on the playground behind that fence. <br /><br />Susan asked me to tell him exactly what I told her about the drive to California before we left for Mexico. She said it would be important for him to know. I didn't know how to put that out and make it sound real, plus I had already said it. I didn't see the point in repeating it. I wanted him to know it, but I didn't know how to say it again. What I had told her was at one point in the car ride there, after all the arguing and yelling stopped, Matthew put in his head phones and pulled out his book. My dad stared forward while he drove. Susan put her hand on his. Alyssa was asleep against the window, and David was sitting up right behind Matthews seat. Eventually Matthew fell asleep too. He didn't lay his head anywhere he just let it hang from his neck, with his chin to his chest. David handed me a pillow and told me to give it to him. So I set it on his lap, but that didn't do anything. So a couple minutes later David grabbed it and held it up against the window next to Matthew and pushed his shoulder towards it so his head and the pillow would meet. Matthew woke up to the touch of it, realized it, and then just closed his eyes and went back to sleep. And just with that, the quiet in the car wasn't quiet tension anymore. It was just quiet. And all I could hear was the sound of the road. And the feeling of all of us together felt so good. I told Susan that no matter what, we will always love each other. And there was something about that car ride that made me feel the comfort of having a family that I don't get to see that often. Susan ended up telling my dad this for me, while I sat and listened, she didn't say it how I had said it originally. It was sort of modified to the only way she knew how to say it. My dad nodded and listened. But those things I had said just didn't have as much meaning anymore.<br /><br />I spent a couple nights sitting on my bedroom floor calling my mom in desperation. She told me over and over, that all of this, everything I'm holding myself back with, is all just excuses. Every time I end up calling her, I would end up breaking things around me out of frustration, and our voices were raised like they've never been before. It kills me every time, because she takes on everything I do. Every time I would hang up on her, and all the days I spent ignoring her calls, it was killing me. But I didn't know how else to handle it. When I went for a couple weeks without a phone, there was no other way to get a hold of me. I wasn't at home often, I didn't make any effort to talk. To anybody really. Susan had some messages on her machine she played me for one of our sessions. All the messages were left in secret. One was from my Mom expressing how worried she really is, there were a couple from my step mom talking about her concerns about the medication. I hated hearing them. The fact that there were always eyes of concern on me. I know it's not how things work.. You can't just disappear from everyone and expect no reaction towards it, but it's what I needed to do. I see losing my phone as a blessing for me. I would have to say I'm okay or else she wouldn't really listen and if I'm not okay then its not really understandable. And when she wants to be worried as hell, she bites her tongue so I'll call her back tomorrow. I was so frustrated at what I do, and what she does, and what we became. I hated her asking how my dad and I were. If I say bad then she asks why. I say why and she tells me otherwise. If I say were doing good, I'm lying. If I say were bad, I have to talk about it, when I talk about it I start to hate listening to myself, hearing my reasons, and my problems, and my <em>so sorry voice</em>. It was madness. Everything she'd say to me I would shoot down. The only thing we talked about that felt real was my unhappiness. The only thing she'd ask, the only thing I'd tell. I miss her so much. She said she made herself sick over me not calling. She said she had nightmares, and would wake up telling Walt, "He hates me." Walt would have to remind her, "Hes your son." <br /><br />It was like a ping pong table between me, her, and my dad. Everyone checking on how I feel. It was everyone telling me how to feel. Nobody listening to what I feel. And then me questioning what the hell I even do feel. In the session with my dad while I held my face in my hands Susan said, "Do you know why Michael is crying, Tom?" I felt she was going to link it back to him and hand over the blame, like we were in the appointments my Mom used to tell me about that they would go to for their marriage. The one that led to their divorce. She says, "Why are you crying, Michael?" I didn't lift my head and I didn't say a word. She looks at my dad and says, "Because he's hurt." I was thinking, what does this have to do with him? He's not my problem. My dad has never been my problem. When I lifted up my face, my dad shrugged, and he said nervously, "I.. I know. He is." All I felt was pity as Susan handed me another tissue. It was disgusting, and I hated how it felt. I kept repeating her question in my head and kept feeling like I needed to provide an answer. Why are you crying? And so I asked myself, why are you crying? Is it because of the memories my dad was saying to us? Because I miss him too? The times Susan asked him to say were the most important, was it his loneliness in his voice? Or was it the fact that the whole reason I'm here, and the whole reason I'm this mess, wasn't even created on my own. That not even all of my problems are <em>mine</em>. That I would cry to Susan about my dads pain, and Davids pain, my Moms pain. How I convinced myself there's no way I could be happy on my own. Not without my friends, not without Stephanie. I felt like all I was built off of was other peoples problems, and the way everybody else felt about me. Maybe it was the fact that the problems in myself were just too hard to admit. The fact that I can't speak up, that I lost who I was, that I always feel like I'm acting. The things I put on myself, and the things I can never forget. The people I miss and the people I can't ever let go of. She put her hand on my knee and talked in a soft voice, she said, "This isn't going to last forever." She would repeat, "I know you're hurting." My dad stayed quiet, and when she would ask him to speak he would say, "Well you know, what he's feeling, are things we have to learn to deal with every day. I know it can be hard adjusting to lifes changes but.." I stopped listening. And I started double thinking everything I just had thought before. This sharp pain came back that I would feel whenever my emotions were misinterpreted. The more he spoke the more he made me feel like nothing I have felt was real. Susan always tells me to try the medication because it would give me a thicker skin. I've been thinking for so long about what that means, and what I do that makes my skin so thin. Was showing up at Davids wrong when he was saying to Alyssa that he was done living again? Was it wrong for me to leave the house because my Dad just sits there and watches it happen? How problems left undone start to feel like my responsibility. How I payed too much attention to the car ride to California, while David was throwing up, and Matthew was bitching, and my dad was yelling. And is it wrong to carry the feelings you have for someone, on your back? I didn't know anymore. <br /><br />But today I know what she meant by that. My life is my own. And how I feel isn't weighed out by what everyone else feels, or what they're doing. I've been taking time to focus on myself so that one day, what I want and what I need will be the same thing. Not a whole lot has happened around me the past few days, but I've made a whole lot of change in myself. I never realized how right my mom was when she would tell me that positivity could lead me to a whole other place. I never realized how much you can have, once you stop fighting it.Michael Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092936614921739799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013939981613725948.post-10012056000711944832010-04-19T01:22:00.001-07:002010-04-19T01:37:15.171-07:00Take it easy, love nothing.'Now they're spreading out the blankets on the beach<br /><em>That weatherman's a liar, he said it'd be raining</em><br />But it's clear and blue as far as I can see.<br /><br />Left by the lamp, right next to the bed<br />On a cartoon cat pad, she scrached with a pen:<br />"Everything is as it's always been, this never happened.<br /><em>Don't take it too bad, it's nothing you did, <br />just once something dies, you can't make it live.</em><br />You're a beautiful boy, you're a sweet little kid<br />But I am a woman"<br /><br />So I laid back down, wrapped myself up in the sheets<br /><em>And I must have looked like a ghost<br />Because something frightened me<br />And since then I've been so good at vanishing</em><br /><br /><em>Now I do as I please, and I lie through my teeth<br />Someone might get hurt, but it won't be me<br />Should probably feel cheap, but I just feel free<br />And a little bit empty</em><br /><br /><em>Now it isn't so hard to get close to me</em><br />There'll be no arguments, we'll always agree<br />And I try to be kind when I ask you to leave<br />We'll both take it easy.<br /><br /><em>If you stay to long inside my memory<br />I will trap you in a song tied to a melody<br />And I'll keep you there so you can't bother me.' </em>Michael Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092936614921739799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013939981613725948.post-5526317454801622462010-04-15T01:06:00.000-07:002010-04-15T01:14:43.816-07:00Little Lion Man'Weep for yourself, my man, <br /><em>You'll never be what is in your heart.</em><br />Weep little lion man, <br /><em>You're not as brave as you were at the start.</em><br />Rate yourself and rake yourself, <br /><em>take all the courage you have left, that you wasted on fixing all the problems that you made in your own head.</em><br /><br />But it was not your fault but mine<br />and it was your heart on the line.<br />I really fucked it up this time.<br />Didn't I, my dear?<br /><br /><em>Tremble for yourself, my man, <br />You know that you have seen this all before</em><br />Tremble little lion man, <br /><em>You'll never settle any of your scores</em><br />Your grace is wasted in your face, <br />Your boldness stands alone among the wreck<br /><em>Learn from your mother or else spend your days biting your own neck'</em>Michael Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092936614921739799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013939981613725948.post-60440608301169191412010-04-12T18:22:00.000-07:002010-04-12T21:54:53.567-07:00Lights of the cars go by in a stream, seems like I stand pretty much unseen. But I open my eyes and beams come out.I've been feeling like my pain is more than just something I feel, but what I am. And not only have I kept myself trapped in it, but the people around me have, too. It wasn't intended really, but eventually I lost one thing, and others were taken away, and I've ended up on my own for a while. I go to class, and then I come home. I go to work, and then I come home. And if you can't find me there, I'm at Cammishas or driving. I haven't had a phone for a couple weeks, I haven't checked any social networks for days. I haven't called anybody, to see anyone. But sometimes I don't even want any of those things back. I liked the fact that nobody could see me or get a hold of me, that I didn't have to be anywhere, that I didn't have to make any plans that I wouldn't follow, that nobody was depending on me. And I wasn't depending on them. That I had nothing to check that would trigger my anxiety, I didn't have to wonder what they were doing. And I wasn't really reminded that they were still there. Some days were easier than others. Some nights Cammisha and I would drive by parties Avieta was throwing on our way home and I'd drive through a row of cars parked all over and list off whos were whos and then we'd speed off, and I'd forget about it. Or at least try to. But no matter what excuse I would come up with for why I wouldn't go in, it was really just I was too scared. It might not of been long, but it felt like forever. And I was scared to face my own friends. I hated the weekends before. So much. I hated hearing about every ones plans, and feeling like I had to have a million of my own. The fact I wasn't involved, the fact that it's because I stopped involving myself. Nights ended in disappointment, or anger. But the past few nights, work was the only place I wanted to be. And it <em>did</em> feel like enough. Dinner with my coworkers, and some nights ended early. It was all okay to me. <br /><br />Every other day in first period, early in the morning, Jackson and I sit at our desks in the back of the class and pass a plastic bottle of some drink mixed with vodka back and forth, and then we'd move on to the next class drunk. He'd bring it because he had some things to forget, but I'd do it because I was more comfortable that way. And I knew how to talk that way. It's what I do with anything I put in my system. Take this so it won't hurt or even if it doesn't hurt, and this so I can focus, and this to calm my nerves, and this to make me sleep. I smoke because it brings me back to things I used to feel, without anything else. Sometimes without any of it, I just don't want to be awake. Anything to hide my shaky hands, and shaky voice. I feel like I've completely dropped any social skills I ever had. I used to feel like I always knew just what to say. I used to live off of that energy that I would get from being around people. And now all I try to do is stay hidden. Maybe I had my turn, living like that. But maybe I'm just wating for my turn all over again. Today the sun finally came out, and it's amazing how much that can change how we feel. Today I spoke first, and I did it without anything there to help me. I saw friends that missed me, and made plans I meant. Tonight I came out of my room, and I sat on the front steps watching the lightning across the field with my dad. I know that I don't have to be alone. But I know that's never what I wanted from the beginning either.<br /><br />Sometimes it's hard to break out of what you're in when people are watching your progress every day. Listening to your plans, and watching for the mistakes in the things that you say. I needed to do this more than anything else, because it taught me something that I haven't been able to figure out from the start. That my life is mine. And what I feel does not have to be provided by everyone else. It's not their choice. What I'm doing is for me, what I want is for me, and being away doesn't mean losing it all. This is the first time I have ever put myself first, and already it's put me into a whole different perspective. For once I'm ready to sort out my own problems. For once I'm ready to start building off of <em>what I want.</em>Michael Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092936614921739799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013939981613725948.post-23744606806313340332010-04-09T13:59:00.000-07:002010-04-09T15:04:07.953-07:00Candy'Deep down inside me, buried beneath everything, I could sense a feeling I'd never felt before. I didn't know what it was. I didn't know if it was a good feeling or a bad feeling or something in between.. I wasn't even sure if it was a feeling at all. It was just something - an unknown shade, a barely perceptible signal, like a flickering candle on a distant hill. I knew it was there, but most of the time it was too faint to see, and even when I could see it, I couldn't tell if I was seeing it or hearing it or smelling it or feeling it. It was too many things all at once: a light in the darkness, a crying voice, the scent of freshly washed skin, some wonderful oblivion. It didn't make sense, and neither did I.<br /><br />'I didn't want to keep my thoughts inside anymore. I wanted to let them out, to give them some air, to see how it sounded outside of my head. At least some of it, anyway.'<br /><br />'The weeks went by with a weird sense of timelessness. Days seemed to last forever, with long stretched-out mornings, interminable afternoons, and never ending nights. Yet at the same time, when a new day dawned and I looked back at yesterday, it seemed to have passed so rapidly that it was hard to believe it had happened at all. Tomorrows on the other hand, were centuries away.'<br /><br />'But explanations don't change anything, do they? They don't make you feel any better. You either like something or you don't, and if you don't like it, then knowing why it happens doesn't make any difference - it's still going to happen and you're still not going to like it, so what's the point?'<br /><br />'One of the worst things about feeling helpless is the constant intrusion of doubt. Even when you know there's nothing you can do about something, even when you're absolutely sure, when you've considered every possibility, over and over again, knowing full well that you're wasting your time. Even then, you still can't help feeling that you're wrong. <br />There must be something you can do.<br />Surely..<br />There has to be <em>something</em>.'<br /><br /><em>The days past, as they do, and life went on</em><br /><br />"You can lie to me, but you can't lie to your conscience."<br /><em>Wanna bet</em>? I thought<br /><br />"That's all there is to it."<br />"And that's what you want, is it?"<br />"That's how it is. What I want doesn't come into it."<br /><br />"This, me, what happened, why it happened. It's so stupid. It's nothing. I mean, I used to be alright. I was okay. Nothing bad happened. I wasn't beaten up, or raped, or abused or anything. Nothing happened. I got myself here." She shook her head, "All I got was a little bit of jealousy, a little bit of rejection, and a lot of self-pity. It's not much of a reason for ending up like this, is it?"<br />"A reason's a reason." <br /><br />'It was all riddled with problems. Big problems, little problems, awkward problems. Problems that scared the hell out of me. I wasn't sure if I even wanted to keep trying to deal with them. But want didn't come into it. Nothing came into it. It was just there. It was going to happen no matter what. <br /><em>As inevitable as night follows day. It could never be anything else.</em>'<br /><br />'We left the house behind and hurried away into the night. There was something between us then, something that hadn't been there before and wouldn't be there again. I'm not sure what it was. But I think it something to do with the balance of things. We were both changing, each of us in different ways, and neither of us could know what those changes meant or what they might mean to us in the future. I suppose we were still trying to work out how that made us feel- about ourselves, and each other, and everything.<br /><br />'It wasn't simply that we were changing either, but that the changes themselves kept changing, too. It was like being on a seesaw. One minute I was this, and Candy was that, the next minute she was this and I was that. <br />Up and down.<br />Down, up.<br />Scared, calm.<br />Calm, scared.<br />In control, out of control.'<br /><br />'She was making some tea, I was sitting in front of the fire. We were talking. But that was okay, wasn't it? Being normal. What's wrong with that? <em>Nothing</em> I told myself. Nothing at all. But I wasn't so sure. I knew that things weren't normal and all we were doing by pretending was avoiding the inevitable truth. And this is the thing that bothered me the most - I wasn't so sure I wanted us to be normal. I didn't want us to be abnormal, I didn't want all of this chaos and underworld crap. But that's where we'd come from. The problems were a part of us. Part of what we were. And I was afraid that if I lost it completely, we might lose some of ourselves.'<br /><br />'It's like I've been stuck in this place for so long, this place where every thing's numbed and dead and you don't have to think about anything or care about anything. And I can't remember what it feels like to be outside of this. I don't know what it's like to be normal anymore.'<br /><br />"You get all these dealers rambling on about their gear and their works and God-knows-what-else, and it's just so boring. It's like listening to a bunch of computer nerds or something. Except these computer nerds are all whacked out of their heads and some carry loaded guns."<br /><br />'Why are you doing this? I asked myself, but I knew I didn't know. It was a question full of questions. Why do you do anything? Why do you like music? What do you take drugs? Why do you hate yourself? Why do you die? Why do you fall in love?<br />I had no answers. I didn't matter that I didn't know why I was doing anything, I was just doing it.'<br /><br />'I remember it all: every word, every breath, every tick of the clock. Everything that happened is with me forever. I can never forget it. But that doesn't mean I can live it again. You can't live what's gone, you can only remember it, and memories have no life. They're just pale reminders of a time that's gone- like faded photographs, or a dried-up daisy chain at the back of a drawer. They have no substance. They can't take you back. Nothing can take you back.<br />Nothing can ever be the same as it was.<br />Nothing is.'<br /><br />'I was always afraid. I was afraid of everything. My thoughts, my doubts, my desires, my lies, my honesty. It was like a battle in myself. I didn't like what I saw. I didn't like what he wanted. But I couldn't stop seeing him. I couldn't stop being him.. I didn't know what he was. His feelings were wrong, and mine were right; but then mine were wrong and his were right. It was madness. It was too many things to know: light, dark, crying, laughing, hurting, needing, hating, loving.<br /><br />How do you explain that what's in your mind isn't yours? How do you explain that even when you did do something, the only memories you have are the secondhand memories of someone else. <br /><br />I don't know what's happened with Candy. I don't know if she's lost her mind. I don't know when I'll be seeing her again. The only difference now, for what it's worth, is I know that these things don't matter. I know that I don't have to feel frightened of not knowing - I just have to be here. In love and faith. I just have to believe. <br /><br />It's not easy - living in a void, living and dying inside of your head. Wanting what you want so much that you would give up on everything else just to get it - but time still passes, and the days go on. And as long as there's still a tomorrow, there's always a chance.'Michael Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092936614921739799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013939981613725948.post-13157226927868292892010-04-08T13:29:00.001-07:002010-04-08T13:34:29.643-07:00You've got wires, coming out of your skin.I miss being able to look at things for what they are, instead of picking them apart with what I know.Michael Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092936614921739799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013939981613725948.post-89788635085212304282010-03-29T22:09:00.000-07:002010-03-29T23:27:57.831-07:00Now I just sleep beneath your floor, and my ghost just tries to keep you warmEvery single day is another thing I remember, and another thing I try to forget. And I'm not even really sure where I'm taking myself anymore. All I know is I'm taking myself away from everything I can't keep holding on to. Admitting it to myself was what felt like the hardest part, but telling you was something I've never done before. <br /><br />I just can't keep doing what I'm doing to myself. I've grown used to our pattern, and now it's all I can look out for. It's the hope of walking away with you still here. It's the thoughts of me leaving or staying when high school is over. It sounds so selfish, and complicated when I say that I need you now more than ever before. But I do. And that's the whole reason I'm trying to move on. The way I feel is still so heavily attached to you, you're still a part of my every day even when you're not around, but the fear of you not staying is getting more and more scary. <br /><br />I'm terrified. Because if I keep killing different parts of me to make things better, how is it that I'll be happy in the end? And I've always told myself that if you're in love, then nothing else should matter, because it's enough. But now I'm thinking.. it's really not anymore. No matter how much I want it to be. Every single part of us was beautiful. I wouldn't take any of it back. I will never agree or believe that you walked away everytime because you didn't care or love me enough. But I will always believe that it meant something. Maybe there's things we've both been looking past.<br /><br /><em>'Because how I ever got to you, I have no idea.<br />It's like some secret door, well it just appeared.<br />So, no matter what I do from now on with my time.<br />you will always stay here in my mind. <br />I am certain of this and I am not certain of anything.<br /><br />So I want to get myself attached to something bolted down,<br />So that these winds of circumstance won't keep blowing me around.<br />From when I land to when I leave <br />there is enough time to sleep and sing.<br />I keep running around, when all I want is to lay motionless.'</em>Michael Fitzgeraldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092936614921739799noreply@blogger.com1