years later in an alternate universe

yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaars have gone by.

i'm older but i don't feel it.
18 now.
put out a cigarette in a small ashtray in my father's house in ndg.
a different one.
not the one on melrose.

i feel terrible most of the time.
i'm finally on antidepressants.
http://bodyandhealth.canada.com/drug_info_details.asp?channel_id=0&brand_name_id=1924&relation_id=11573&page_no=2

it feels like i'm wrapped in bubble wrap or something.
i feelings are covered in bandaids.
except for when i get angry.
irritability is a side effect.
i don't remember much, and i feel like i don't register much in the moment either.
i don't care about sex anymore, either.
my dreams are vivid and realistic and confusing.
sometimes the lines get blurred between dreams and reality.
i remember the colours well.
and the feelings.
i have more emotions in my dream life than in my waking life.
i grind my teeth at night, too.
sometimes it gets really bad.
whoever i'm sleeping next to wakes me up those nights.

######################

i don't know what else to say.
i'm completely in denial about all the troubling events in my life right now.
there are a lot.
and i can't deal with them.
it's strange,
there's a voice at the back of my mind
telling me that all this will be easier if i smoke less pot.

huh.

i need time to collect my thoughts. this is definitely a good start for me, though.

i'm glad this page is still here.

nightgown

falling asleep alone
is really a peculiar thing.
sometimes,
it's like feeling an empty space
beside you.
sometimes,
it's easy to have night
-mares.
sometimes,
you can't close your eyes
until someone does it
for you.

falling asleep alone
is not something
to get used to.
it's nice to know
someone is breathing
next to you.

and once you've
known it.
there's no
turning back.
once you've
felt it.
there's no
way
you could ever
fall asleep
alone
ever again.

allow me to explain

there comes a time (multiple times) in one's life when you are forced to step back,

maybe out,

to look at your life,

yourself.

i don't know what to call these moments, 

because they're extremely hard to put into words.

i suppose it's like putting puzzle pieces together.

trying to see which ones fit,

in the hopes of creating one big

beautiful,

colorful,

shiny picture.

lately,

i've been remembering dreams 

or daydreams

or fantasies i've had.

and it's strange,

how many of them have become realities.

i can't tell if i've done it on purpose.

i can't tell if this was my doing,

and that's quite strange.

this all just feels like a déjà-vu. 

and i don't know what i'm trying to say because everything i do want to say is fighting its way out of my head all at the same time and it's very confusing, you see.

*****

peace, finally.

sitting on my sofa

in my house;

with my cat,

and my roommate

asleep on the couch.

this is my sanctuary,

my home.

*********

for now, i'll leave you with this photo i found today.

i'd never seen it before on my computer,

but i remember taking it perfectly.

the car

we kicked the tires.

popped the hood.

the only smoke

billowing

was not from fire

but from my cigarette.

so you smacked it

outta my hand.

it'll explode you say

and we smoked it.

we smoked

the last of our marlies.

you still sat with me

in the dead metal

of the car.

useless revving

seemed to be 

a recurring theme.

truth be told

the truth is that i haven't told the truth.

the truth is that the truth hurts.

i've made some bad decisions, i've made some bad calls, i've made some bad moves.

now i'm paying the price.

the price is all inside my head.

for the first time ever, i can only blame myself for all the terrible things i feel.

you can only play pretend for so long before realizing that there is, in fact, a real world that you have to deal with.

there's no use feeling misunderstood, there's no use wishing for someone to love me enough to take on my ghosts, there's no use lying in bed, my eyes wide open; wishing to wake up somewhere else.

i could easily spend my days holed up in my room, the black velvety curtains pulled tightly over the window. 

but why is it easier to do that than to be human ?

my house is like my head - a train station, chaotic, anarchic, 

a languorous fucked-up turbulent free-for-all 

is all it is.

and it makes me sad to see such a fantasy of mine crushed up into an infinite downfall of dull little shards of what i once thought was happiness. 

we're supposed to be living the life !

then why are we all so miserable ?

web of lies, 2010.