I feel you slipping.

Slipping away.



This wouldn't be news to me - another person who goes. I don't blame you really. I'm sure I'm not the best to live with. Always a wild card of emotion. To be fair, I don't even know most times. I was doing well - I am medicated and things are relatively okay. But this sadness just washed over me like a wave - overwhelmed, drenched, depressed.

It is all senses of frustration rolled into one.

I know it's only a matter of time before you leave completely so why delay the inevitable. Just go. Leave. Don't look back and don't pretend to be sorry. I should be alone and I should go far away. Every city is tainted now - smudged with haunting memories.


I don't belong anywhere, so nowhere is where I'll be.



-t.s.

I want to feel your bones crush in my hands.
I want to feel your skull crunch under my feet.
I want to cause pain.
I want to make chaos.

I am angry.

I want to break, tear, smash, throw, and shred.
I want you to feel just a fraction of this pain.

But that's not just why I'm angry.
I am angry because I am sad when happy things happen.
I am angry because it doesn't change.
I am angry because it won't change.
I am angry because it all changes so quickly.
I am angry because I am angry.

I can't shut it off or shut it out.

I am consumed.

I am angry.

-t.s.

I'll dump this here so your words stop stinging.

This community ***** the venom out with each poisonous thing I post.


"You're a kind-hearted person with good intentions, but you hurt so many people. You say you're their friend, but you've entirely abandoned them, despite the lengths they've gone to to help you or to support you. If you truly care about someone, reach out to them, even just to say hi. Stop hurting the people who care about you the most."

With no love whatsoever, Some ******* on the Internet



-t.s.

My feet feel the cool touch of the grass as I tip toe across the lawn. These long summer nights hold such a blissful innocence about them. Even in growing up, working at a desk job, and paying all the bills, I still feel like a kid when I am surrounded by fireflies in the cool, refreshing twilight air of a Wednesday night in June.

On my checkered blanket, the wind rustles the grass around me and each blade begins to dance to a song you can hear if you are quiet enough...

Distant wind chimes ringing, the breeze rustling the branches, the cicadas chip both near and far, a frog family croaks from the creek near by. There are few moments in this world where peace can wash over someone. In this moment, on the ground, in my PJs, I, a 20 something tired warrior, shine my flashlight toward the sky above in awe so that I may add my light to the infinate chorus above.

The serene nights of summer take me back to a time much simpler. A time when our only worries were 'can we get all of our adventures done in the time before we have to go to sleep?'. A time I go back to every June, just to feel that closeness, that humanity that I so crave. We are more than this zombie-like figure that takes over our bodies each day. We are creative and imaginative. We are fun loving and kind. We are children at heart and we need to stop depriving that child of the happier things in life.




-t.s.

Trust is a tricky thing.

One person in your life can shake the ground you walk on forever without a second thought.

Your own anxieties bring insecurities that make you lose trust in people. It's not always their fault, but when those sneaking feelings end up being true, ******* it takes so much to come back from that.

Distrust and uncertainty seep into everything moving forward. You can't help but compare and see similarities. ***** the glaring and incredible differences, you will still find ways to not trust him. It's not fair to him, but you feel jaded like it doesn't matter anyway. Continue building those walls and slamming more bricks up there each and every time you have a concern, warranted or not.

You'll push everyone away because you will never be able to let go of those parts of yourself.



-t.s.

Hey there - sleepy head,

Today is a brand new day. You are going to face a countless number things, people, and words today, good and bad. The main thing I want you to remember when you face this day is that you are so incredibly brave. You are fearless in the face of despair and rejoyce with passion at the sound of a good song. You have all the potential of a great day locked inside you, all you need to do is find the key. Be patient with yourself and remind yourself of the little happy things in life - nothing too small. Romanticize this world and everything in it because you only get this one life, lets make it a glorious one.

Love,
You

PS- You can do this. Walk into that building with grace and peace. Let your inner ocean be calmed by the tranquility of the breeze. Yes, you are a hurricane of a girl but only YOU get to decide when to storm.



-t.s.

I'm 25 and my shirt glows in the dark. A skeleton rock on symbol lights up as the world darkens around me. That's always been me though, never growing up fully, and I would never apologize for that result.

Responsibilities ****. Showing up every day only to do it all again tomorrow can get pretty **** tedious and is constantly boring. But when we find the little things that bring light to the darkness, who are we to turn them away. Of course we can't always have the light because we wouldn't appreciate it nearly as much. Sure, we will have those things that take up space, the things that we have to do in order to live, but that is not our definition. Our dreams perpetually change - we have no definition. Our best bet in this world is to find those things that bring light and hold on to them.

So wear that glow in the dark t-shirt, wear those dinosaur footy pajamas, jump in puddles, watch cartoons, eat sweet cereals, draw horribly, sing innocently, get excited about the little things. Because life isn't one whole big thing - it's made up of millions of smaller pieces - collect the good ones.



-t.s.

Bokeh flares glitter.

Give me love
Give me love
Give me love

Spirals of white.

Give me love
Give me love
Give me love

Dancing yellow light screeches.
Overwhelming prisms flash through.
Angry heated red sets fire.
Meadow green comforts, too.

I close my eyes and I listen.

I see a masterpiece painted behind my eyes, sitting, waiting to be discovered.

Encovered. Enearthed. A firework display of passion errupting in time

One and two and three and four ...

Blood, oceans, dirt, sun

The words bring the passion and the passion brings the show.


The rhythm creates the motion, gives life to the color.


Color.

Give me love
Give me love
Give me love

Every song has color.
Every song has a display.
All we need to do is close our eyes and wait and

Take the time to listen.

-t.s.

Shoved in a plastic grocery bag under the boxes of Christmas decorations is where I found my crazy pants today.

Dusty and discarded, I looked at them. They were softer than I remember.

When I would act irrational or angry or even sleepy, my family gave it the term 'cranky pants' 'angry pants' or ' sleepy pants'. It was a kind way to say, "hey stop acting ridiculous!"

When I was committed to a psychiatric facility, I wasn't allowed to wear the clothes I had on because it posed a threat or hazard to my safety or that of the other patients. They gave you scrubs instead. They were cold and miserable.

One afternoon, I saw one of the other patients wearing sweatpants and I was thrilled to see that was an option. I spent 90% of my time there fighting to get a pair. Finally on day 9, I was gifted a beautiful pair of Heather white sweatpants that had elastic at the bottom and smelled like bleach.

My crazy pants.

I wore them because I was crazy, or so I told myself.

When I was discharged, I got to keep them and would occasionally wear them again but mostly when I felt more bipolar swings happening.

They found their way to a bag in the closet and remained there for months.

Just like my bipolar swings, they hid for a while, stagnant, waiting.

And just like my bipolar swings, they found their way back and now that's all I want to wear. My loony, angry, depressed, crazy pants.

-t.s.

A ******* stone surrounded by a faint light greets me. It's presence brings with it heaviness and lifelessness. I feel my chest lighten as the breath escapes my lungs. I gasp for more air but there is none to hold on to.

Impending doom creeps around me, surrounding me on all sides. The weight of it's energy drags me to my knees. I fight to stand but the earth quakes beneath my feet.

I reach up as to latch on to something, anything to help me pull up. But everything is gone. There are no people, no furniture, no walls, no earth, no sky. Only the stone inching closer to me.

I collapse fully under the weight of the unobtainable air. The darkness drifts over me, swallowing me whole. I evaporate out of existence, consumed by the pain I carried, engulfed by the sorrow my heart held.

I am no more. Finally, peace.






-t.s.

5AM : The sky is waking up. I turn over across the blankets and tissues to face the sky. Calming shades of periwinkle and stone swirl out my window. Can I stay like this forever?

6:30AM : Alarm rings - time to get ready. My feet hit the floor reluctantly, but a triumph nonetheless. Vela swishes her tail against my leg and chirps a sweet, 'Good morning!' Can't I just spend the day curled up next to her?

7:30AM : These jeans will work. I've got my purse, don't need a lunch (because honestly I'm looking pudgy lately and I ate way too much last night), and I better get moving or I'll be late. Can't have that or I'll loose my job. Would it really be that bad to not have to work?

7:59AM : Do I have to go in?

8:10AM : I've been here 10 minutes and I already want to stop breathing more than usual. People smile at me and it's sweet but I just feel nothing but heaviness inside. My face feels weighed down by an invisible force and my head is throbbing. How much longer until 5 o'clock?

9AM : I've survived an hour, which to be honest is impressive. Nothing but irritation and eye rolls. Why did I even get out of bed?

11:59AM : Great. Lunchtime. I hope I can just speed by this. I don't want to eat - I feel sick thinking about it. Maybe if I just talk a lot and ask people questions no one will notice that I'm not eating. Who am I kidding, I'll end up finding something to eat anyway - I'm hungry. Why do I have to gain weight from food?

4PM : We're coming up on the finish line. I already know the exact things I will do the moment I walk in my front door - shoes off, bathroom, change into sweats, wash the oils off my face, fill up my water bottle, curl up under the covers, and sleep. Is the day over yet?

5:01PM : Finally. Make a beeline for the car and maybe no one will talk to me - I really just want to go home. I know I was supposed to go to the gym, but honestly I need to be home right now. Is there any traffic on the way back?

5:12PM : Do I have the courage to drive right off this bridge and finally let it be done?

5:25PM : Approaching my home I feel ready, ready to collapse into its embrace. Next I feel a heaviness stronger than this morning, like I'm being pulled toward my bed for comfort. I am so ready to be away from the world. How many more days do I have to do this?

5:27PM: Car doors locked. Walk up to the top floor because I should exercise - after all I skipped the gym. Shoes off. Bathroom. Change into sweats. Wash the oils off my face. Fill up my water bottle. Curl up under the covers. Can't sleep. Tears run down my emotionless face. I just don't want to do it anymore. How much longer do I have to hold out?

6:15PM : Absolute chaotic breakdown. I am a blubbering mess of a human, walking vigorously around my apartment in search of something although I'm not sure what. It's not even a thing I'm looking for, more like relief. Curling up, sobbing beside the couch praying for this to all end. Tortured and ready to die but lack the ability to make it happen. How does anyone love me when I am such a terror?

6:25PM : Exhausted. Finally calming down from a whirlwind of dementors. Still sobbing. Ready to collapse. How much longer can I take this?

6:45PM : The next few hours are just a roller coaster of being silently down and being an emotional ball of fury. It's exhausting. I'm exhausted. I'm ready to be done. How do I make it stop?

9:30 PM : Finally found a little bit of stable comfort in a new strange spot in my apartment. Yesterday it was at the end of the couch, today it's under my craft table. I gather my blankets, tissues, and water bottle to settle down for rest. Why are my mind, body, and soul so restless and depressed?

11:30PM : Still awake with an empty stare on my face. Numb from the stress of the last few hours and going over the events of the day. How many times did I want to die today? A shorter answer to a different question would be - how many times did I want to live today?

1AM : Maybe, just maybe... I won't see the sky wake up and I will finally be at peace. Is it all over yet?

Wanderlust is such a romanticized term. It has such a beautiful air of brilliance. A word associated with travel and experiencing the best of life. What they don't tell you is the heavy side. The side where you can travel the whole world and still feel nothing. The part that feels aimless and empty. The dizzying feeling of dread that nothing will ever be good enough. If I can't find joy eating cacio e pepe in the heart of Rome, or exploring castles in Scotland, will I ever find joy? It makes you wonder why we wander when nothing seems to fill that hollowness in your heart. Not people, places, food, or things - nothing. Not only am I wandering the world but my soul also wanders for a place to rest, a place to call home. Nothing seems to fit. Nothing seems to feel right. Why am I cursed to wander when to most it is a blessing?



-t.s.

I feel things fiercely. A whole new level of pain, sadness, and very occasionally joy. When my heart breaks, it falls from the top of a mountain to the deepest abyss of the earth. When I am hurt, I feel the pain of ten-thousand thorns piercing through my skin, a hundred poisonous snake bites, and 24 years of self deprecating thoughts all stirred into a single tear. Some might call it dramatic, but if they knew the impact it had on my thoughts, my smile,my whole life , they would eat those words as fast as they spit them out.

She's just being dramatic.

She's just too extreme.

She doesn't have control of her emotions.

You make it sound like I chose this, like I continue to choose this. When something "small" happens, like a friend not turning out to who you thought they were, or a moment not living up to its expectations, my whole world quakes. I cannot help it. I can't fix it. I didn't pick this. I didn't want to feel so impacted by the smallest movement. This is the way I was created and believe me, I am trying so hard to fix it - more than I could ever explain. The process of caring enough to fight instead of ending my life is something that might come easy for you, but takes a lot of convincing for me. Please try to understand. And if you don't, that's okay. I don't want to be here anyway.



-t.s.

Ashes rise to the sky
Like fireflies
Reach a height then disappear
Such a short, bright life.


-t.s.

**** this.
**** this whole.

I realize that there is more elegance and eloquence to vocabulary but right now the only works that can escape my lips are

**** this.
Oh. And *******, too.


Sitting here sick
Sick and **** tired of this **** that life keeps throwing my way.
And I just deal with it...
Because I 'have to'.

*******.

'Have to'


Why the **** do I 'have to' be here? I didn't chose this. I didn't ask to be alive, ask to be conscious. I don't want to be here. I don't want to do this. I don't want to wake up each day and breathe and live and work and cry and sleep.

Well...
Sleep.

I'll keep that one.
Its nice to sleep. There's nothing else to worry about. A sweet serene oasis of mine. A place where I don't answer to the **** of other people.

I give it back. All of it. It doesn't work right. It never did. It never will. People say that I should be happy for the things I have and I say to those people...

**** that.

**** your standards of what I 'should' do or feel or know. **** your opinion on how I treat myself. **** your decision that my life is worth saving because so what. I don't want it. I return it. Take it back and give the whole thing to someone else who wants it.

But make sure you ask them first. Ask them if they want this life. Ask them if they desire to drudge through each day just to make it to the next. Ask them if they want the self-loathing, air of desecration that lingers all around me. Ask them if they'd love to know, everyday, what it feels like to have people NOT choose you over and over and over again. Because I'm sure, if you ask them ...

They'll want to return this life, too.


- t.s.

Some days I dream of the way my feet would hang off the side of a roof top garden ledge
Crisp air cooling my toes.


Some days I wish I was hanging from a tree
Lifeless, still, and calm.


Some days I wish I was at least just hanging in there,
Instead of feeling empty and numb.



-t.s.

Help me, I am drowning in my own self hating words.
I hate you.
I hate you.
I hate you.
Clings around my neck.

Help me, I am losing on this battlefield alone.
You are worthless.
You are worthless.
You are worthless.
Covers up my screams.

Help me, I am fading into darkened monsters, now.
I am sorry.
I am sorry.
I am sorry.

It is time to say goodbye.

-t.s.

He's gone.

And that kinda *****.

He wasn't who I thought he was. He was more capable of anger and ruthlessness than I imagined. Saying things that tear out the most vulnerable parts and stab them to bits.

He was more childish than I thought he'd be for his age. He spends recklessly, doesn't have handsoap in his bathroom, and watches TV from a desk chair.

He was flaky and shady. Giving little information and being dodgy about his phone and whereabouts. He consistently cancelled plans and left me in the lurch.

He was never going to think about someone else for a change or be truly and deeply mindful of his significant other.

He had a sharp tongue and a hard head. If I didn't select every word carefully, he would snap and say horrible things.

He didn't let her go. As much as he would deny it, Priya still has a hold on him. He can't let her go. He would say terrible things about her and then also say I was like her.  He would delete her messages and lie about her texting him. He carried through the trauma and treated me like her. He wanted a relationship to just pick up where that one left off and not put the effort into 'dating'. I was a continuation of his previous relationship - all the history but only the good person.

He was boastful and also self-deprecating.

He drank too much and smoked too much.

He didn't follow through on things he said he would do.

He love bombed me and then pulled away to where I felt empty.

He's gone.

And that kinda *****.

And I'm sad that I still miss him.



-t.s.

How is it that I feel numbness and such pain all at once?

I feel the tears welling in my eyes but they never break through. I feel the pressure, the weight on my chest but tenseness all over my body. I feel angry, hurt, sad, and nothing all at the same time.

I can't focus on anything, I am debilitated. I can't eat, I can't sleep, I can't be.

You told me you loved me amongst the crowd of a Steelers game while we were searching for a hot dog and soda. Not the most enchanting, but perhaps I watch too many rom-coms for my own good. I think I've always just romanticized each aspect of a relationship and all the major moments based on what media told me meant the most.

Opening my eyes now, those special moments aren't always at a candlelit dinner or by a fireplace, many times they are at a cookout with your friends or the zoo with my nieces and nephews. The beauty of feeling something so deeply that you just have to say it, even if it's in front of a porta ***** at a church festival or the stoplight on your way home, that's the real love that people feel.

So when I tell you I love you while sitting on my couch on a random Monday night, know that I mean it. Know that every muscle in my body wanted to tell you because I didn't wait for candlelight or an array of stars, instead I told you in the most real way, our way.

We will still have those romantic moments on a boat under the moonlight or the fireplace of an old house, but we will also have those passionate moments where we couldn't keep our feelings in anymore and the most appropriate place just happens to be a crowded train on the way downtown and an airport bar. I love you and I'll say it anywhere.



-t.s.

I won't eat
I won't sleep
I won't brush my teeth

Instead I write.

I won't cry
I won't laugh
I won't see my friends

Instead I write.


Eating does not fill me. When I try to sleep, I toss and turn. No need to brush my teeth when I won't go outside.

Stories are my nourishment. I drift off to dreamland in prose. My soul is cleansed with antonyms and synonyms, similes and metaphors.

Crying brings no freeing feeling. Laughing holds no joy. Friends will soon just leave me and take with them my heart.

I pour my tears into a song to convey all that I feel. I laugh along with Shakespeare as he inspires every play. All my friends are pencils because they're useful and won't leave. And if one happens to skip away, break or reach an end; aisle 4, below the staplers, I can always buy some more.

My friends tell me it was only a couple of months.
I should feel better by now.
I should feel lighter and happier.
Some days I am and some days my heart hurts deeply.
I realized that even though it was only a couple of months, you were the reason I came back to this part of the world.
The part of the world when I felt comfortable in love.
The place where I realized that I could do this again.
The moment where I let love feel safe again.
After 7 years of self discovery and healing, I brought myself back to the world of falling in love....

and I picked you.

What a stupid thing to do.



- t.s.

9:47 I sit on my couch, staring at my bed.

I'm not supposed to lay down until at least 10 o'clock.

It's supposed to "ward away depressive states" so I don't "stay in bed all day long."


9:52 If I go just a little early, that won't be a big deal, right?

No, I better listen. I better try.


9:55 Only five more minutes.

That's funny. We used to use that to avoid going to bed, now I'm using it to count down until I can.


9:58 Do I have everything I need? The temperature is set so I won't get too hot? I've got my glass of water, my phone charger, my fuzzy socks?


10:00 Sweet relief.


I'll never leave you again.

I promise.  


"Depressive state", my ***.  This is the only place I can be safe. The only place I'm home.


-t.s.

This world is full of people who will hate you, drag you down, and rub dirt in your wounds. There are also many who will show you love and kindness.

I ask you, is it worth it? Is it worth it to go to bed every night hoping you don't wake up in the morning just to have a friend?

Is it worth it to feel the overwhelming urge to jump when you know the bottom is full of sharp rocks just to have a few happy photos?

Is it worth it to loathe your existence so much that you wish you would just stop breathing already just to take in the cool air that escapes from a crashing wave?

Is it worth it?


- t.s.

The light touch of the silk on my breast brings me back to you.

It brings me back to that dance floor with my body pressed up against yours like the cover of a book and it's pages.

It brings me back to your fingertips - a stone skip across my skin.

It brings me back to your hands holding my face and your lips on mine.

It brings me back to that night in the snow where your body was the only source of heat I needed.

You are a chapter that I will never forget - the one that I will reread over and over again until the words come to life off the page.



-t.s.

I need to speak but it weighs so heavy on my mind.

"They don't love you."

"You aren't good enough."


I can't work, I can't sleep, I can't breathe.
This feeling is suffocating me slowly.
Let me out, let me speak, let me be who I am without judgement because I already judge myself enough for the both of us.

-t.s.

T,

I won't be there in life for all the moments where you might need my advice so here are all the words of wisdom you might need.

1. Don't settle for less than you deserve - there are only a certain number of days you have on this Earth, don't waste them with things that make you feel half full.

2. Find the little moments and celebrate them, don't wait for the big things to enjoy life because every sucess, every joyful moment is worth celebrating.

3. Be patient and open your eyes to see God work in your life. Not everything will happen at the speed you want it to but if you calm your mind and heart, the period in-between great changes will be one of reflection and peace rather than unsteady nervousness.

4. Give your heart space to heal and room to grow. You will have many things in life that touch your heart, good and bad. Give them time to make their mark, learn from them and don't forget the lessons.

5. You will walk around this life as a whole person with spaces to fill. Someone will come along and fit right in those spaces, keep your eyes and heart open to recognize them and let them fill you up with love, acceptance, and joy. But don't forget that you are whole without them, too. You do not need someone to 'complete' you because you are whole all on your own.

6. Go out into the world and experience life before it's gone. Love greatly, pray deeply, give endless, and know that you are special and worth more than than all the riches in the world.

7. Remember those who love you that have gone before you and know that we are watching over you, smiling wide at all your success and crying with you on the hard days. We hope you live a full life but also can't wait to see you when we meet again one day in heaven.

Love, Tom

I just lost my best friend.

This person, this human, with whom I shared my whole life.

I thought we were inseparable. I thought wrong.


Now you are just a stranger. We pass on the street and you don't even glance in my direction.

I get it. Its all my fault really. I'm so ******* broken that I don't blame you for leaving. I am too much to handle, there will be no return on investment or stock payouts. I will never be anything. You bought high, cut your losses and sold low. It will stay there; the low.

I don't blame you for leaving me. I wish I could leave me, too.

-t.s.

Who decided that the top of the mountain was the goal in climbing? I mean, I guess I understand the concept of why but thinking more abstractly, who decided what the rules were?

People.

Just people.

We are people, right? Does that mean we decide the rules? Not always. Most of the time the rules and goals are set by the mindset of the masses. Whoever is loudest or has the most connections sets the trends, makes those rules, and decides the goal.

Why?

Why are people so looked down on for going against the grain of the popular mindset?

You go to high school.
Okay - that's the law.

You go to college.
I mean, I guess.

You borrow tens of thousands of dollars from the government and even private banks to go to college.
Well, I don't really want to do that.
Well, you have to or you won't get a good job.
Well, why?
Because education shows you how things are done and how to do them right.
Okay, I mean, I get that. But what if that isn't for me? What if I don't thrive from that and instead of learning and growing, you are just creating bad habits, watching your confidence tank, and thousands of dollars go in the toilet.
Well then go work a minimum wage job.
Okay.

You get a job. Or not.
Okay, I guess.

You work to save up money to buy a house but you still have to pay rent which is very expensive.
Well, I guess that's okay but won't it take me forever to save?
Yes, with the job you have from a lack of university education, yes.

You spend years saving.
Cool.

You buy a house.
Awesome! My first house! But I spent all this money that I spent years saving and now I am locked into this and if anything ever goes wrong, I'm *******.
This looks like it will happen sooner rather than later with how cheap this house was.
Well, that's all I could afford.
Well, maybe you should get a better job.
Well, I can't because I don't have a degree.

You work until you are 70.
Oh yeah, I've had to give 10% of my salary to my 401k in order to pay for my future without working. But, inflation is a thing and now all that planning puts me back at the amount I needed 40 years ago, not what things cost now.

You move out of your house and into a cheaper apartment.
Well, I guess this is all I can afford at this point.

You live out the rest of your days there and pass away.




What a life right? Sounds like a book I would read - NOT.

Give or take a few privileges and/or road blocks some people may have, this is pretty much it. Even if you pay for the college education, you still don't have much of an advantage. You pay off years and years of college debt - so unless you make 6 figures, that will take you until you're 70. This means you will likely get your house much later and also just be stuck in the same ending.

Why?

Why is this the path we are 'supposed' to take? Who decided this?

We do.

Every day that we get up, WE decide our actions that day. WE determine our own future - not the societal mindset.

Sure there is more friction going against the grain. It's hard. But is it harder than living a life that doesn't bring you fulfillment?

Think of mountain climbing. The goal is to get to the top right? Wrong. The goal is decided by each climber. If you want to go to the top, great. If you don't, also great. Each climber has a different way of getting where you want to go - some take an incline (upper class, money, prestige), some people pay a guide (university education), some people drive (start your own business), some depend on others to carry them (disabled, poor), some are the ones who carry others (volunteers, charity, servants). No specific way is wrong and no specific goal is wrong. If your goal is the top, then to the top you shall go. Your path may have different pitfalls, you might go a different speed, you might die before you make it to the top; but some people don't even go to the top. Some people take their time.

My goal isn't the top. I want to live for the views as I climb, whether clouded by blankets of green or the most crystal clear blue sky meets the horizon. I want to find beauty in the little things around me, not just rush to the top because its the option chosen by many. I want every hammock tree spot, every waterfall creek pool, every season change from a soft layer of snow to the sloshy mud underfoot, every critter discovery, every art-inspired shot. I want to settle in a place that other might just rush by but only settle for a little while - until I want a new view.

People say that the best view is the one from the top where you can see it all - but I disagree. The best view is the many you will see along the way - the little details on each tree, each rock, or on the ground. From the very top, you don't see the detail - you see the bigger picture. I'm sure the picture is great, but rather than buy the print, I would prefer to do the puzzle - that would be far more fulfilling for me.

LSD to hallucinate
Marijuana for stillness
Alcohol to numb the pain


All I wonder is

Who needs drugs when we have music?


-t.s.

I don't like new notebooks.

I mean, I like new, beautiful, clean, pristine notebooks,
but I don't like using them.

I don't want to ruin it.

I open up to the first page and it's so blank, so white, so pure,
there's not an imperfection in sight.

I don't want to use it because I don't want to mess it up. I want it to stay perfect, and beautiful.
I don't want that inevitable ****** drawing or poem to **** it up.
I don't want my uncleanliness, my messiness to spread to something so perfect.

I do end up using it. If I didn't, I'd just have a bunch of empty notebooks lying around which honestly I'd prefer.
But I take forever to do it, to break the seal.

I have to have the perfect thing to ruin perfection because if it's not perfect, it's not worth it to ruin it.

It goes two ways though:

The first entry is perfect, beautiful, inspiring, deep,
and then I never use that book again.
Because now it's perfection is magnified.
I couldn't possibly follow it up with something better or just as good,
and it's quite possible that the more I try to come up with something good to match, the initial piece deteriorates and it becomes disappointing, thus resulting in the notebook not being used.

The second way this goes is the first entry is trash.
It's disgraceful and I want to tear it out
but suddenly the book becomes less daunting, less intimidating because now, it's imperfect.
Every entry to follow doesn't have to live up to some grand standard.
But I'm reminded everytime I use that book that I failed, that I created garbage.
It makes everything that comes after, not as good as what I want to do, it lacks passion.
If I tear out the initial entry, the cycle starts over.

No matter which way you spin it, we just don't get along. I end up with a bunch of half used, disappointing books sitting around haunting me as I walk by.
A notebook is reflective of who you are,
it displays the deepest parts of you.

What if your unhappy with what you see on the page?

What if what you see isn't you?

What if, this blank, empty page of nothingness is better than what you are?

Why would you want to ruin something so pure and perfect with your mess?

Because nothing you ever write, draw, sketch, compose or create on it will ever be as good as it's once held purity.

-t.s.

Because we're all just a little messed up.

Some of us are a lot of messed up.

We hide and hope people never see it but what can we do?

How do we hide who we are?



And who we are is nothing.

-t.s.

I have an intensly difficult time opening up to anyone. I have been burned so many times, yes, but this isn't about that.

It's about the way you will look at me when I tell you how my mood swings from happily eating ice cream for dinner to throwing out all the food in my house because I should stop eating forever.

It's about the things you will say when I tell you I want to drive my car off a bridge the day after we had a grand time at happy hour.

It's about the energy I will feel when I explain why I don't let myself get too happy anymore because I am afraid that will be it for me - the best memory I will ever have.

It's about the people you will call and the places you will put me when I finally say how I feel about my life and my desire for it to end.

It's all about what I know will happen.

This is why I stay quiet and I cry alone in my bed. This is why I put a smile on each day and break down as soon as I step through my front door. This is why I will never tell you how I feel because I know the moment I do, life will never be the same for us again.

In all reality, everything I do is to protect the ones I love. I stay alive because I couldn't bear to put anyone through the hassle of dealing with my dead body. I keep quiet because I can't burden you with my words. I cover it all up, keep it shoved down deep because I will never open up this storm of emotion to a person who lives life in such an unapologetically perfect way.

I am here because of you. I am still breathing because of you. But I am still hoping that one day, unprompted, you give me permission to leave. THAT is when I will breath a sigh of relief.


-t.s.

I am not smart like the other girls.

I am not as pretty,
nor as charming,
or sweet.

I am not like the other girls.


I never will be.

- t.s.

I come home alone yet again.

I tell myself time and time again that I do not need somebody to complete me - that I am perfect all on my own.

That doesn't mean I don't want to curl up next to someone at the end of the day and melt in their arms - to feel the safety net, the warmth and pure love of companionship.

Just like anybody else, I want that kind of love.

Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn't have been so selective. Maybe if I would have just "gotten used to his flaws" or "moved past his agressive tendencies" I would be in bed right next to you.

I know I deserve greatness. I am told this time and time again, so much so that I almost believe it.

But you know what my greatness is? It's being independent, strong, and brilliant while still knowing I can depend on someone. It's being brave, kind, and fearless while still knowing that someone will always be there to have my back. It's having faith, caring for others, and demanding nothing but the best and having the one who matters the most show me that even imperfections are perfect.

I want an ambitious love. One that shows the movies how to be. One that gives a new name to inseparable. I know it's a lot to ask for - which is why I am still alone. Maybe I ask too much or maybe too many people fall short of greatness in my eyes.

I demand nothing but the most perfect imperfections.