posted on March 27, 2003 @ 2:54 am
"darby's song," lucero
so. here we are again. as i read sylvia plath's journals, it reminds me of when i read the perks of being a wallflower. i was on the mend, and then i read this horrible epistolary by someone who sounds like me. it was very hard, and i almost didn't finish it after the poem, but i did and i'm glad.
i've recently rekindled my fondness for reading to escape reality, but when it creeps into my fiction . . . it's so hard to see your life on paper, a physical manifestation of your fucked up brain. hopefully i can try to utilize ms. plath's words. people always ask, "why?" i can never answer because it's so obvious to me. to be a complete nerd, i'll make the analogy of grammar. we all know it, but you try to sit down and write a good grammar. you can't. linguists can't even, not a complete one.
being so dissatisfied in myself, only finding happiness in other people, being one of the most jealous people i know, being crazy over a boy in pennsylvania whom i've never even met, crying far more often than i should (it no longer hurts as badly thankfully), believing that the little green flying creatures are faeries and when they touch your face they're giving you kisses. these are such basic components of myself that i wouldn't know where to begin to tell you why. maybe it's because i just don't know. i'm going to continue telling you i don't know until i figure out a way to vocalize it (or find the answer). i'll simply continue to sit and cry, listening to sad country music. upon highly complimenting lucero and quoting them in an away message, i received this:
Chemistrysmygirl: wow i love you
let me know your favorite band. i'm due some affection.
smoking cigarettes more than i should. my hands won't stop shaking, and that can't be good. i would forget you if i only could think about anything else. well it was nice. goddamn, it was nice.
until then, you'll merely be inundated with sylvia plath quotes and either a flourishing or decay of actual thoughts from me. these times can go either way.
"you're far too precious to me. i only want what's best for you. that might not include me. i know it's true."
<3, chelsea.
tonight i am ugly. i have lost all faith in my ability to attract males, and in the female animal that is a rather pathetic malady. my social contact is at the lowest ebb. my one link with saturday night life is gone, and i have no one left. no one at all. i don't care about anyone, and the feeling is quite obviously mutual. ... now i know what the girl meant in celia amberley when she said: "if he will kiss me, everything will be all right; i'll be pretty again." first i need some boy, any boy, to be captivated by my appearance�some boy like emile. then i need someone real, who will be right for me now, here, and soon. until then i'm lost. i think i am mad at times. there is so much hurt in this game of searching for a mate, of testing, trying. and you realize suddenly that you forgot it was a game, and turn away in tears. if i didn't think, i'd be much happier; if i didn't have any sex organs, i wouldn't waver on the brink of nervous emotion and tears all the time.
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