I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
- T. S. Elliot

Surface.

I could feel the waves of emotion lapping at my feet again, trying to drag me away but I could not (would not) let them. But they kept on trying, using the smallest memory of how I had once been to try and pull me under, into their cold embrace.

Two letters from forever ago: ‘love forever, Mum xx’, and ‘You will not listen to your conscience anymore. Understood?’

Two books: How To Feel and How To Be Happy.

The guilt:

“Do you remember when we went on a bike ride, back in year six or something, and I was crying?”
“Yeah, you were like “I hate life” and I was like geez, you’re only in year six.”

Lying underneath the waves looking up at the sky, the water seemed to have an almost tangible skin to it, a silver layer that made me feel apart from the rest of the world. It was like I was part of a whole other world beneath the water.

To break the surface was a difficult thing, but it was necessary as we all need to breathe sometimes.

This is my entry to this lovely blog created by the lovely Sanchez.

I'm glad it made you feel better.
(Even if it was a while ago)
And I hope that you're okay.
Even it doesn't sound like you are.
I'm not sure if you want me to know anymore.
Just give me a sign when you're ready.

A letter.

All I needed was to write a letter to myself,

saying that I was doing the right thing, 

 before I could start to believe it.

We.

I am you. You are me.

I watch you on the screen.

Half my age and half again

I see myself, I see you.

Running and falling

And crying and singing.

I see proof of the days when living was easy.

Bunched up curls and bring blue eyes.

You stare at the camera,

But you're really staring at me.

I laugh, I cry,

You laugh, You cry.

At least a decade separates us

But we are the same thing,

Being,

Person.

I can see you but you can't see me.

Now I can only look back and try to remember.

As you look forward, and don't mean to, but forget.

                                                         here



Watched some baby videos last night. It made me nostalgic.

Me.

I am shy, I try too hard, I like to be different, I can't live without music, I have a fascination with clouds, I wish at 11.11 and 12.34, My wishes never really come true, I read, I try to find the words that I know are there, I just haven't found them yet, My writing is best at night, I like it when I know all the words to a song, I like it when we have a deep conversation, I fear other's judgement, I am unsure a lot of the time, and you make me more unsure than ever before,

Words.

My head was filled with so many words. So many useless, pointless words.

When I finally opened my mouth, I expected them to all come racing out, one after the other, in a long string, like the carriages of a train.

But nothing came out.

11.11

- I feel like Pete Murray in his song 'I've seen better days.'
Cause he says 'I felt like running so far away, but knew I had to stay'.
I feel like running away from my own problems.


Written by me, on the second of September 2006, age 12.

Who I am.

Inspired by the lovely Sanchez at http://theinkyfingerfiles.blogspot.com/
I am me,
I write letters to myself
because no one else will.
I live to write
little pieces of nothing
and everything.
I haven't found him yet
but i will someday.
Pictures can be worth a thousand words
But words can be worth a thousand pictures too.
I like the colour green
it's everywhere I look.
If you haven't sprinkled glitter out of a window,
then I suggest you try it,
I read poems
and write them too.
$2.50 for 30 blue pens really was the best deal
I have done in a long time.
I think way too much.
Music drowns out the bad things.
I'm good at giving advice,
but not taking it.
Walls are the canvas of your heart and mind,
mine will never be blank.
Sometimes I speak to my dogs
as if they can hear me and talk back.
I have a job,
but mainly wish I didn't.
I like cold water,
and sometimes can't swallow warm water.
I'm 16
and still afraid of the dark.
I hold my breath,
when I run through the hallways at night.
With out pen and paper
I'd be lost forever
or never would have existed in the first place.
I wrote lyrics on post-it notes.
Forget boys,
I'm in love with frozen raspberries.
I've given up caring
because I had to.