Dark Ice

i recorded myself talking last night, and wow. my friends were right, i do sound like a kid. i mean, i wasn't expecting to hear a sexy and seductive purr emanating from the speakers but this is ridiculous. even with a sore throat, my voice brings to mind a twelve year old who's just gotten her first bra.

funny story though; when i went bra shopping the other day, i was directed towards this boring looking pile of undergarments. no wonder they looked so bland, they were for little girls! apparently the only bras in my size were from the junior department. in fact, the one i am wearing now has the words my first bra stitched on the side. brilliant. why am i even talking about this?

so anyway... i might have been exaggerating a little when i said i sounded like a child but not by much. most of my friends have deep, sultry voices, and get compliments like 'you sound like an old time Hollywood actress' or 'has anyone ever told you that your voice could melt butter?'. on the other hand, the best compliment i have ever received on my voice was 'have you thought about becoming a voice actress for disney?' and once when i was in college, some girl i'd never met before heard my voice from inside a classroom and thought it was someone's litte sister speaking. when she saw it was me, she squealed 'you have such a cute voice' and pinched my cheeks. hard.

is there any wonder why my friends never take me seriously? not only do i act like a child, i apparently sound like one too. this explains why i'm never allowed to be by myself or to handle glassware around them. whee.


Silver Lining

i still love pokemon! the game, not the series. the music was one of the best things about it.

the name also somewhat reminded me of the colour of the new display picture. and i thought the header suited the blog title more than the previous one. which led to me revamping the sidebar (not completely) and being a bit trigger happy with some things. change is good, right?

but if this header is too happy and sunshiney for you, let me know. we can make this work!


To Be Happy

last last night while you put your hand on my head and draped your jacket around my shoulders and watched me shred pink tissue paper into an ashtray, i died.

it just made me sad to think about it, that maybe it has always been the other way around. perhaps you've been the one who cared most, not me. you pick sugar crystals from my hair and scatter sparks from your cigarettes
around my feet, while i just sit there smiling.

i can forgive you because i have hurt you more. all those moments i spent carving your name into wooden benches, you were carving my name on the inside of your eyelids. fck it. i shouldn't have left you that day in june, traced a final i love you in the air and gotten into that car.

if all this seems broken and unintelligible, that's because it is. my thoughts fragmented. i can spit out a million and eight excuses, but somewhere in the middle we got turned around, and now you're where i was and i'm where you used to be.

i think i need help. i need help but i have no one left to turn to. so i keep on spinning and spinning, waiting for you to stop loving me so i can finally stop thinking of you.


Folds In Your Hands

what will i say to you? should i be the first to speak? would a hello suffice, or are more words required?

i am so confused right now. all i want is to sit in the shower for as long as i can hold my breath and try to forget you under the relentless stream of cold water. i know we'll end up talking in the end, because you have never let me walk away without a fight. if only you didn't love me still, it would be so much easier to let you go.

three more hours until i fall back in again.


Turn Slowly

i smiled into my palm that night, when you said you still loved me. i will never admit how much i want to forget the promise i made to myself - to never be that vulnerable again. it's difficult when you're pressed up against my back, so close that i can feel your heartbeat through bare skin. i tried running away, clutching my throat so i wouldn't accidentally tell you how much i loved you too, but you always found me. behind doors to cold empty rooms, watching the sunrise mirror the flush of my skin at your touch, eyes searching for the slightest hint of remorse.

this isn't rock bottom anymore. this is me scraping every facet i can retain of you and wrapping them up in gilt. or guilt. whichever works best.


All This Beauty

we traveled all night
we drank the ocean dry
and watched the sun rise

you can ask about it
but nobody knows the way
no bread-crumb trail
to follow through your days
it takes an axe sometimes
a feather in the sunshine
and bad weather
it's a matter of getting deeper in
anyway you can

the weepies



Written on the 17th of February, after the Valentine Day disappointment. I found this one taped to the underside of my bed. I must have hidden it because of all the feelings it evoked in me.

When I am with you, I am a cloud of emotions. I want to hold you and breathe in deeply, but I am afraid to because these days you smell like vodka and smoke. I cry when that happens. The times that I walk by you without a hello or a smile are the moments I keep replaying in my head. I have hurt you, yes I have hurt you, but you should know you have hurt me more.

Do you know the vast oceanfuls of time I spend thinking of you? Unstable memories slowly consuming me when I least expect it. Five minutes ago I was struck in the face by one - some girl in a blue denim miniskirt and perfect hair asked where you were. I told her I wasn't sure, and she said she should've known better. What does that mean, exactly? Should I know better too?

And you said you hated pretentious poetry, you who wrote my name on my hand and told me to always remember it, you who watched me walk away every single time only to turn around and come back. You make it worse by just loving me, flaws and all. I try to change you but all you ever tell me is how perfect I am. How do I go on? I can't pretend that I'm happy anymore.

But I just don't have it in me to let you go. You're always the shoulder to cry on, the one who holds my hair back while I throw up carbonated drinks and unstable emotions into the bathroom sink, the boy who does it all so that I don't have to. I owe you that much. The fact that you still love me despite all the mistakes I've made tells me not to leave you now, not when you need me the most.

Tomorrow, I will wait for you outside your door with a big smile, and I will tell you how much I love you. I will hold your hand and sing your favourite song and laugh at your jokes. You will say that you're sorry, like you always do, and I will stroke your cheek and tell you that I have forgiven you. Like I always do. Like I always will.


If My Heart Was A House

i had a dream last night that we were candle makers in an abandoned house. we were melting wax and moulding armadillos with our fingers, trying not to get burned. you (was it really you? i'm not sure anymore) turned to me and said
do you still eat sugar on buttered toast? then you kissed me, tears running down both our faces, until i drew back.

and i realized that we'd been holding hands the whole time, so i let yours go, and there was a tiny lit candle on my palm. you were gone when i looked up again, along with the house and the candles and the fire.

when i woke up this morning, my pillow was wet and my eyes were swollen.


Portions of Foxes

when i was ten...

i got my first marriage proposal. at my school, we had envelopes glued to the front of our tables with our names on them in block letters. one day, i opened mine to find a crudely made card in the shape of a large red heart. inside were the words i love you d, you are the best. marry me? although i'd never hated boys (my first best friend was a boy), i was surrounded by girls who still did. needless to say, my friends descended upon me with mocking laughs and shouts of eew gross! are you really going to keep that? i was mortified. later that day, i threw the card in the trash can with everyone watching. then i went home and cried.

my brother and i pretended we were adventurers who had to save the world from evil mutated flowers. every flower within our arms reach was torn apart. luckily for our mother's garden, we were soon distracted by the new bikes our father had bought for us. my mother decided to teach us how to ride them, but the lesson ended with me crashing into a storm drain. i was furious and wouldn't speak to her for the rest of the day. this vow of silence was broken when she asked if i wanted chocolate or strawberry ice cream with my waffles.

i played the piano religiously, and the only songs i really listened to were the golden oldies (michael learns to rock, eric clapton) and classical pieces. this was because we never turned on the radio at my home. my father would play his records every evening, and the whole family would sing along to them while we did our homework or played board games. my favourite was monopoly eventhough i rarely won.

i was so shy i wouldn't even say hello to people i knew well. i had a huge fear of being disliked and was always worried about how people must think of me. nearly every morning at school, i sat at my desk waiting for someone to speak to me first. once, i came to school early and was spotted by an eighth grade teacher who'd seen me around school. she waved at me and i panicked and ran. she later asked to see me after classes had ended, wanting to know if she had done anything wrong. my parents always sat me down to give me advice on how to combat my low self confidence and intense shyness because they were afraid that it would kill my social life when i grew up.

now that i am nineteen...

i am still hopeless when it comes to my love life. i attract mainly losers and perverts who for some inexplicable reason, think they have a chance with me. i have had men grab at me from their cars while i am standing on the sidewalk, been followed into the ladies' room at the mall and even stalked by a group of men while leaving the cinema. there must be something very wrong with me. the last marriage proposal (i didn't take it seriously) i got was earlier this year from a boy who ended up leaving me heartbroken.

i stopped riding a bike years ago and managed to completely forget how to even get on one properly. when i was at BB's house, she made me use her sister's bike, and i promptly rode into a tree. my brother and i stopped playing imagination games, although we sometimes pretend to be characters we love (daria, hannibal lecter, professor oak). we don't eat waffles much these days either, although everyone now knows better than to ask if i want strawberry or chocolate (it's always strawberry). also, i don't destroy innocent plant life anymore.

my headphones are almost permanently attached to my ears. i still love playing the piano, although now it's just for fun, and i enjoy classical pieces from time to time. i can still sing along to all my parents' favourite songs, and it was a great help when i joined the choir last year because the choir master is a huge fan of the beatles and abba. i think my music tastes have improved quite drastically in the past eight years, although i'm sometimes referred to as a music snob when people browse through my iPod. sadly, we don't play board games together as often as we used to, but my mother is a huge hidden objects game fanatic, and we have regular bonding sessions over Mystery Case Files.

i am much better around the people i am close to, and i am not afraid to run up and say hi or throw my arms around them for a hug. i am still very shy when it comes to strangers, although i sometimes make a huge effort to speak. i am always afraid that i am not cool enough or worth getting to know, and my shyness has led to me often being called stuck up. i'm happy to say that everyone changes their opinion once they get to know me, but it still makes me feel insecure. i still often worry that my friends don't really like me as much as they seem to. the only opinions that matter to me these days are of my family and friends. i'm working on the self confidence issue, and hopefully one day i will be able to have a conversation in which i make eye contact with the other person at least half the time.


Fishing The Sky

i watched UP and cried secretly all the way through. mainly because of the movie, but for another reason as well.

such a stupid stupid reason really.

i thought of you again, and that made me sad. the way you said i never want to be alone and how you wrapped your fingers around my wrist when you said it. did i let you down more than i know? more than you disappointed me? i hope not, because then i can only imagine how painful it would be.

i wish i could tell you, pick up the phone and say i finally did it, i gave away that sweater. because i did. silver and sparkly and wrapped up in brown paper for the charity home. i keep wondering if the girl who ends up having it will dream of a boy with dark hair and dark eyes and brittle bones. will she know that it was his favourite sweater of mine, that he first spoke to me because he saw me in it? will she fall in love and have her heart broken one day? and will she break his heart too?

now i find myself thinking over and over again how i never want to be alone too. but if having someone means always having to watch the person you love have one alcohol laced breakdown after another, moments of sheer exhaustion when you're done screaming at each other and cold breathless nights when you don't know if you'll ever see him again, then i'm not sorry i'm alone now.

my depressing inclinations aside, it was a brilliant movie, and everyone should watch it and cry if they have to. then write their regrets on a balloon and let it fly away.