See you in a couple years.
I’ve run out of time. I’m fragile, I’m worn and sad only to endure a harder chapter of life. I’m sorry. I’m sorry to have made the mistakes I’ve made. I’m sorry for letting you guys down, for being selfish and not thinking about how I’d effect you if I’d disappear. I wish I was part of your life more, I wish I would have showed you that I cared more than I have, because I do - I always have. I’m just not a very good son, I fail at it and now I can’t even show you how I’ve changed. I’m ashamed and nervous because I don’t want to see the look on my parents face when their child gets cuffed, disarmed of his rights and caged like a bird. Clothed in the stripes, the mark of a criminal. I’m sorry for letting you down, you have no idea how much more it makes me hate myself…
The fact of the matter is, I’m suffering. I don’t want to go to jail. I’m scared of what will happen. I’m scared that my brothers will realize how they can’t look up to me anymore, that I’ve failed them too. That I’ve let them down and can’t be there when they need me. I love Ben and Elias so much, I wish they could fully understand what’s going on but it’s clear that they’re in denial… Forgive me, please.
I can’t believe this day is here. I’m scared I’ll be forgotten. I’m scared of how much the people I love out here will change without me. Move on, without me.
I’m not gonna lie, I miss Kailin. I think about her everyday and every night. It’s a bad habit but I can’t help it.. I’ve dreamt about her almost every night for the past week, they were the best trips I’ve had, and such a bitch to wake up from.. I’m going to think how she’s doing, if she’s holding up okay, how much I wish I hadn’t messed everything up from the start to the end, if there was anything I could have done even afterwards…something. She haunts me. I often wonder if I ever cross her mind and if I do, in which way? I wish I knew. I struggle with this curiosity.
I wonder almost every night if you stay up at night missing me, or wishing you could find a time machine and go back and cry from being so happy cause you went back to the moment when we first met. Or our first kiss… Or when we were allowed to see each other again after that December. Or our first Circa concert. Or when I’d get you then get you coffee every morning before taking you to school and wait with you till the last minute. Or the first time we smoked together, or our first real date, or our first time holding hands, our the first time we sang songs together, or the first time we admitted our love, or danced, or hugged, or cried together, when I walked all the way to Jimena’s…remember that? I can’t stop crying, I loved you when I just knew you from being the locker next to mine, when we’d walk to spanish class after meeting each other in the hall, when we’d meet halfway on Haverknoll, to go back and have a pizza party with just the two of us and Zelda, or when we’d go downtown to just kill time and walk into the museum with out hands locked. I remember the times we went to King’s Island and I’d chicken out from the Diamondback, or the first time we went and I screamed like a baby on it. Could we forget everything and meet each other again, and pretend we’ve never met? Can we touch each other and laugh and play around and just love eavh other again? COULD YOU WAKE UP ONE MORNING AND MISS ME SO MUCH THAT YOU’D WALK DOWN TO WHERE THEY HAVE ME AND SAVE ME? COULD YOU? THAT SOME INCIDENT IN YOUR LIFE MAKES YOU REALIZE HOW MUCH YOU NEED ME? HOW MUCH YOU WANT ME? YOUR OLD FRIEND? YOUR OLD LOVER? FEEL TH URGE TO WANT ME, THE LONGING WHEN YOU REMEMBER WHAT I REALLY MEANT TO YOU. PLEASE? I PRAY THAT THIS CAN HAPPEN, I’M STRUGGLING AND I’M SCARED I LEARNED MY LESSON I WANT OUT I NEED YOU I’M DYING TO BREATH I’VE BEEN ALONE FOR HALF A YEAR, FROM SLEEPING IN MY CAR THOSE DARK AND COLD NIGHTA THINKING ABOUT YOU AND YOU ALONE, TO NOW, BEING ISOLATED AND FRUSTRATED WITH GUILT AND REGRET. I’M WEAK, I ADMIT IT I CAN’T DO THIS I’M SCARED YOU’LL FORGET ME PERHAPS YOU ALREADY HAVE MAYBE YOU ALREADY FOUND LOVE SOMEWHERE ELSE DOES IT TREAT YOU RIGHT NOW, MAYBE IT WAS WRONG THE FIRST TIME MAYBE IT WAS RIGHT WE JUST STARTED TO EARLY I NEED HELP I CANT DO THIS I DON’T WANT TO DISAPPEAR. PLEASE COME GET ME OUT, PLEASE TELL THEM ITS A MISTAKE AND SAVE ME, WE COULD RUN AWAY I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER AND NEVER LET GO I PROMISE. I WOULD TELL YOU ALL THE THINGS I NEVER TOLD YOU, I WOULD KISS YOU AND LOVE YOU BECAUSE I MISS YOU, I MISS YOU I MISS YOU I MISS YOU I MISS YOU I MISS YOU I MISS YOU I MISS YOU I MISS YOU I MISS YOU I MISS YOU I MISS YOU I MISS YOU I MISS YOU I MISS YOU I FUCKING MISS YOU AND EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU I’M GOING TO TURN STALE AND DULL IN JAIL DON’T YOU SEE? PLEASE BE MY RELIEF, PLEASE FIND THIS AND READ IT AND SAVE ME I NEED YOU NOW MORE THAN EVER. I WANT TO BE SAVED, I WANT TO BE FOUND I WANT YOU TO FIND ME I NEED YOU LIKE WATER KAILIN. I AM A CRYING SNOT FACED MESS RIGHT NOW, I I. OSDFBFSIDBFDUFBSDFSDUBFSBFSDF.
FUCKING KILL ME. I’m sorry, this will be the last thing i’ll remember about myself on here. im okay. i can do this. you can do this. you’ll be okay. please find this. please find me. i’m desperate. at my all time low. make amends with me please. love me because i’m selfish and i need it. because i just have hit the bottom, i cant breathe.e i’m helpless. im nothing. i’m stupid and lonely. im stupid im so fucking stupid. i need you you are so perfect nd im so worthless you made me feel so cool and awesome i want that back. im sad. im deeply sad. thats the honsest truht. i just want peace. i want to be held by you. your smell, the smell of the blacket and pillow you gave me when i was living in my car. you’re so cute and perfect. i want to forget with you. i want to be cute again. i want to pick you a daisy again. i want your picture on my nighstnand. your so perfect and cute. godddd.
i can’t. i just can’t. its 2;34. im a mess. kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk
die kill me im cant fuckk
i just want to have peace. my mind’s a fucking blizzard right now.
i feel like shit, i haven’t slept in weeks. i only eat perdocets and advil and shit them out and my minds exhausted from running around all day and night. i need relief. jail is going to make it worse. isnt that obvious, i was there for 4 nights and i can tell you allllllllll about it. you cant get comfortable, the food is hardly food you constantly feel threatened, its boring and it smells and you get trapped in your thoughts and if you wake up in the middle of the night you’re fucked cause you cant go back to sleep no matter how hard you try. it sucks. i don’t wanna go. i dont want to go……..
please read this and save me. i would love you forever
i truly trluy truly mean it……….
philosophy should leave poetry alone
poetry is not ideas and proclamations
poetry is emotional
poetry can be ironic
poetry is a bitch
poetry is love
poetry is a mourning mother
for the loss of her son
poetry is watching your country
burn in the rubble of atomic shrapnel
poetry is the moment right before
the decision is made
Some Final Thoughts
I’m a bitch sometimes, but I’ll be thankful for getting emotional on here, there’s a small chance of being comfortable on paper or anywhere else. I think it’ll be cool to reread this in the future, looking back at who I am today. Or at least the deep thoughts I have, the part of me that’s desperate but hides it, the part of me that defines myself - my true colors. Roots. The roots of everything inside of me. I don’t fucking know.
The worst part of this journey is how much my mind wonders. More specifically how much I think of her. Her. You’re a fucking fag…
Anyways, it’s more than just thinking. It’s like she’s become my conscious. I don’t know how fucking weird that is, but it kinda sucks sometimes, kinda cool sometimes. It’s weird. I have mixed feelings about it, but I’m aware that I owe myself elaboration. Say I’m watching a movie or listening to a band I’ve never heard before. I’m like “Whoa, you’d totally like this, I know you would, it’s the kind of shit you like.” It’s as if she’s become the voice in my head. Like she exists in me. I’m a lost cause I guess, a total maze of logic and emotional confusion. It’s hard to deal with because I know I should forget and cope, but it’s not like I haven’t tried. And I suppose Time will make things clearer but it’s been a while. Time’s taking it’s time I guess. Whatever man. I give people a reason to hate me, maybe that’s why it’s easier for people to forget about me. I do it to myself I guess, I hurt people and that’s that. Why. I don’t blame anyone for being alone, it seems like life’s like that, well mine at least. I don’t have a problem with people not liking me, people like me, and I have turned down potential friends and shit, but I can’t really cope with too many people in my life, I like 1 or 2 people in my life that I can call friends. I don’t know why, it’s just always been that way. I guess I like giving my attention extremely exclusively..or something.
I guess the main reason life has been dragging besides the obvious reasons is because it’s been pretty boring. I’m sheltered. Fuck me. There’s no awkwardness in it anymore. No rawness. The things I admire in my life with K. Kk. Kaykay. Hmm. There’s plenty to miss. My life’s on hold and it will be for a couple years too. Nobody likes being on hold… I’m thankful for the time I’ve had with myself though, although it’s a bit too much. I’m lonely. Nobody to love or amuse, nobody to share time with. I’ll be looking back and I won’t remember anything but a dark numbness of motionless memories. Blank as the snow on the lawn. The only source of anything but boredom has been my friends - music and myself. Music is like the friend that I can rely on, the one who never lets me down. Myself, well I reserve myself for sanity. If I can’t talk to myself and have thoughts bounce back from the mirror, I don’t know what I’d be doing most of my time. Loony.
Maybe I’m that way cause of a deeper reason. Perhaps I’ve lost passion for waking up every morning. I mean, there’s literally nothing to do. No one to talk to. Everyone is usually gone. Out of my day and shit. Passion is an important part of life. I hope I find passion once more.
I used to have different friends, it’s comforting to look back at them. Her pair of lips were my best friend. I’m a fucking fag.
It’s true though, and when you see this I hope you understand, i hope you’re not dull of a person - although I wouldn’t blame you. Absent from the things you love for years is a trial I would rather not experience, but I fucked up. The biggest kind of fuck up.
Don’t you remember the look on my face when I’d wake up? Or the way I’d hold your hand every time we’d cross the street? Or sneaking out of my house in the middle of those December nights? The spiders I’ve murdered for you? The countless cigarettes I’ve lit for you? (I always thought that was weirdly romantic or cute). Fuck man, you better realize how much I loved you. It never died. I fuck up but thats my nature. I guess it’s not justifiable, I don’t want to argue with myself. I know in my heart what I did and why I did certain things. I know exactly how much I failed. But I also know that I love you so much still. I’m sorry, you never deserved pain.
I just have this problem of craving a feeling of being needed. I love love. I’m a romantic fucking douche. It’s more though, it’s more, I’m not a whining emotional bitch, I’m not rationalizing, I’m telling the truth for myself, don’t forget that.
It’s not just being needed, I just felt like I belonged with you. I felt like I found that one person that everyone wishes they’d find. I just felt like a person, a normal one. You brought me to a place of bliss, happiness, away from reality cause reality is just something I find annoying. I can cope with it, it’s just so cool to be with someone who robs you of it. The beauty of it is that it became a reality, like I WAS loved like that. Like the angel sitting on my shoulder actually pulled though in my life instead of hibernating like it had been all along. It’s so much more than being needed, I’m not fucking Woody from Toy Story bitching cause he’s not being played with…It’s being fulfilled. It’s the human instinct of wanting to feel satisfied with love. Love. All that shit. It’s real man, it’s awesome, it’s no illusion, it’s fucking confusing but it’s got those beautiful chocolatey eyes and soft comforting skin. Tight lips that give you a more magical high than the most potent, sparkliest weed. A wakening embrace - more gentle than any sunrise. Small fingertips that keep you warm and safe. The voice of an angel singing you to sleep when you’re in desperate need of rest. The tears and smile of a place to call my home, a place to forget what pain feels like.
I just felt less confused with life, like it was easier to handle.
It’s crazy the things we do out of fear. The things we regret because of our mistakes.
I’m curious about the rumored light at the end of this tunnel. As humans we’re too caught up in sentiment. We are obsessed with finding things to confide in. Such as phrases or sayings, we should be more picky in what we find inspirational. Personally, I limit the shit out of what I let influence me. I don’t try to be original, I am original out of choice. I pick what I like because I like it. I listen to, watch, and especially read what I listen to, watch and read because I don’t want to think like everybody else does and the same reason I find an interest in those things in the first place.. Fuck a “hipster”, it’s a fucking label, I could give a fuck about shit like that… That’s what I mean, who gives a fuck about a label? Things just are because they are, not everything happens for a reason, not every action speaks louder than words, people make mistakes, and so on… So when I put down these truths about myself I can’t help but feel like they are what they are - truths. I’m not here to convince anybody of who I am. Not what I want to be or what I’m trying to portray myself as, I’m not giving myself advice or anyone else for that matter - because once you label something “advice”, people feel offended or they forget it. How many times have we read or heard something and we go “Oh shit, true!” then they forget to apply that to their lives or whatever it was. There’s knowledge and that’s pretty much it, try to find yourself within your experience, don’t define yourself from things that people have created or things of the earth. Becoming a part of the earth is a vivid fear, don’t let the world consume you. It’s a scary place to be - this world, but you could own it easily, death is the final scene for us all, so let yourself shine though each day… I cannot tell you how many times I literally wake up, look in the mirror and ask myself if I’m ready to die, cause sure enough, each day can be our last. Maybe I’ve put too much thought into this, however it is what it is. The connection to this and what I was saying earlier is that if you fear something true about yourself, make sure it’s true and true alone. Not something you’re confusing yourself of. If you love someone, you love them genuinely. If you fuck up and defy that truth, find a way to make sure you’re not fooling yourself, there’s no need in persuading others that you are who you are, fuck them. Fuck their lifestyles. It’s “cool” to do certain shit? Or to talk certain ways? Just to feel accepted? To be liked? What the fuck is this shit, that’s why I’m tired of Cincinnati, it’s full of people who try out their ass. They live each week, working, depending on social media to make sure everyone knows who they are, “Oh we have to put this picture up!” or “Oh I gotta post that on Twitter and put some funny comment.” Like what the fuck man…. God damn, I’d rather be me talking to myself in the mirror than attempting to get people to like me or see my “colors”. It’s fucking annoying because I let it annoy me, which is my own problem, but it’s being in this city, seeing the same shit, people are shitting, fucking, eating, sleeping machines and that’s all they’re good for. Desperate for people seeing how they want to be seen. There’s no more culture, call me cynical, I can give a fuck less. And that’s why I loved KayKay the Jet Train, cause she would laugh at swaggy faglike kids trying to fit in at the mall, but be genuine about it, making fun of shit like that because it’s not just funny, but because she shares the same hateful yet true beliefs as me. Finding something extremely stupid cause that’s the way we see it disregarding how the world sees it or if it’s immoral. Define your own morality. I hate to sound ignorant but I feel like I’m speaking from experience and an underground culture of honestly and reevaluating the world from what we’re expected to do and trust. I am real, I like to think so at least, and I’ve changed a lot within the past months but not my core, definitely not letting my soul slide into the sea of acceptance. Don’t follow trends unless you fucking started it or truly like it, don’t be easily influenced, for fuck’s sake. I can’t be like that and if you’re reading this, I hope you feel me on it. Be yourself and follow your own heart, if you can even be synched with it, some people are too fucking obsessed with materials or people to even hear what their heart has to say. Your heart pumps blood to keep you alive, so I’m confident that it will ever lead you somewhere dangerous. To people who are slaves to substance and attached to what they like hearing and relying on other people to make them feel welcome and part of something, I ask you, why? I understand fitting in, but by being defined? I understand drinking and feeling good but because it’s something people do? I admire the people that aren’t so popular because they are weird, or what I call being themselves. People who attempt and give outcries for attention, wanting to be known as a certain type of person or even labeling themselves, attempting to outdo their fellow comrades - fuck you. Try filtering what you receive from our society. I’m not a realist, or a fucking existentialist or some shit, I’m myself - just that. I’m no one’s hero. I’m a thoughtful piece of shit. Fuck it. I’m done. I’ve overdone this shit.
Something I can’t deny is being suck a romantic person, I feel like I hurt myself in that way. Clearly, this is all somewhat deriving from feeling of love. A curse. The need to love. I just miss you. And I can’t help it. I’m a fool.
I believe in love to much.
I just seems like that’s the purpose of life, not to see how much money you can accumulate, not to leave behind a legacy or to be remembered… but to love and love only. I don’t know, it’s a mystery you can never really solve within your lifetime.
I hope one day, when it comes to the end, I find myself in my dreams of being with you, somewhere we can see the stars…Somewhere we we’d be safe and happy. Where joy greets us upon walking out the front door. An assortment of natural essences to explore, a variety of ways to smile. I would like to feel the way she made me feel, like I was viewing life through a pair of diamond cut kaleidoscopes rather than eyeballs of flash and nerves. It’s impossible to live stress free for people like us - the few who can’t help but look at society and shake our heads but ignore it and be free and natural, a part of nature and not the earth, somewhere filled with laughs and joy, but at least where stress is at an all time low, where worries are unheard of. I imagine a world filled with music and tea sets, cigarette smoke and culinary breaks, waterfalls and fresh leaves, cold winds and warm suns, humble animals, mind blowing sex and intense ecstasy. A place we can whisper to each other across of valley of daisies and hear each other laughing cause we’ve finally escaped everyone else. Ahhh, perfecto.
I would hope to one day avoid to feeling of uselessness and purposeless duties.
God knows I mean well…
God… mighty powerful.
You know, I’m happy I find myself feeling sad often, the deepness of the loneliness, the emptiness of sorrow and depression revolving the bed I can’t find sleep in. Reason for this is because it resembles a pinch, reminding me I can feel, that I’m not completely numb for the time being. It makes me feel alive. At least, alive.
You have no idea how much I think about you. If you’re ever feeling like you’re better off dead, or non empty or numb or whatever, it’d be nice to know at least someone still thinks about you every minute of the day. Must be nice. I can’t imagine how absent I am from people’s minds.
When will the day come where my luck turns around?
Has my life even began yet?
This is my confession.
"Detail every ounce of pain that you went through."
- Anthony Green