Confessions of a 5'1"

Funny things, words.

I know why time moves. Its because our world is constantly spinning spinning spinning and loves to dance around the the light of its life--the sun.

I once knew a girl.

Do you know that _______ you get when you see the one you love

I want to speak their language and hear their voices.

Well, we made Fey (though not my name or how I'm known, who I guess we can say is me) cry, and Sabaki (who virtually I suppose we can call you) cry. And we made an Angel and Thor cry too when they heard about it; it must've been powerful. && our companions! They are not like us-physically built being and conceivably their mental health. Their senses went awry and we've tried to explain ourselves and, most importantly our stories, but I'm not sure if it is they who don't understand or us who can't be certain that we understand the way they understand us. However, if language isn't how we'll communicate: They can listen to our hearts and once they heard, they too couldn't look us in the eye and had to cast their eyes down to cry...

There was once a boy who was really good at lightening moods and making people laugh. He wasn't the most handsome nor the loudest. He just had this manner in the way he smiled that would intrigue us to the point where we just had to ask him,"_____, what are you smiling about?!" & the personality he held when he would express the things only he seemingly saw. All the kids in the class loved being in his presence and there wasn't anything he couldn't brighten-except maybe a lightbulb.

10 years gone, 10 years strong-

These words that I speak... I could never say them with my mouth.

Have you ever been to the beach at night? The waves rolling towards the shore seem to glow against the darkness of the ocean and one would seem to see things moving between. I got the chance to a few days ago & while looking into the night sky I saw the clouds pretending to be nebulas and the stars pretending to be stars. I never had the feeling of being this small and alone in my life.

They fall like dead men from the sky,

I've been shown the world is actually the lungs of nature.

I don't understand how words can sting so much

There are two pains among two people. Each has their own and I wonder which do you hold?

These paper walls so thin, so fragile.

There's only so much I can do for you, the rest is determined by yourself only. Your pain is too much for me to comprehend though it brings me to tears as well.

It fell today.

This is the world I see.

But really, I'd rather hear you say, "____, please don't go."

Is it weird that I read what you wrote the minute after you posted it up? The timing seems unreal.

I had a dream last night.

Like how most dreams turn out after you wake up, I don't remember the details or much of the surroundings. But I can remember a gist of what was happening.
I was semi-omniscient on the events in this dream and I shifted between the two main individuals in turn. They were good friends, possibly even lovers the boy and the girl. They were participating in this days long race; to where I wasn't sure. The two of them had passed preliminaries together and had promised each other that they would get through it together and their hopes were high. However, somewhere along the competition, the man ended up leaving the girl to go on ahead.

I remember, his running shoes were yellow.

He got further and further ahead without even a look back. The girl continued onwards as well, and she kept trying... trying so hard to catch up so they could finish this together. Eventually, reaching the end of the race wasn't what she was straining and destroying her body for. It became the man who had left her behind. All she wanted was to be at his side again and she cursed herself for being so weak-so slow. She didn't give up and I commend her for it. But what of the promise that continued to abrade every step he took away from her?

He finished the race alone, quite very alone. Did he feel pride in himself for doing so well? Was he proud of his strength and his stamina? What of the girl, did he think of her struggling days behind him or did he keep his sight forwards? His shoes were all but worn away, torn and beyond repair---just like that promise to make it to the finish. Together or never.

I had this dream last night and it broke my heart.

There's a cliff nearby where I live that overlooks the lake. The entrance is chained off and an invisible path leads further in past the arms of trees. It was the first time I saw someone there other than myself but I wasn't surprised. It was as if the girl was waiting for me. I didn't recognize her, but there are many things I don't recognize.

She had been crying, the tears dried by the wind on her flushed cheeks. Her eyes, however, were empty and hollow, her lips cracked and pressed closed tightly. I was tempted to whisper in her ear:
"Don't hold your breath, you'll miss the air."

But I held back as she exhaled delicately and drew in a stream of life like she knew what was dancing on my tongue. Instead, we sat there with our sides pressed against one another as we faced the bitter weather from both sides and looked out on infinity blue.

This? Why this is the loneliness of two.

Exactly 1,883 miles away, a door closes. When I laid there after you left, thinking about it, its pretty strange to be able to hear something that far away... its also pretty strange how much it hurts as well.

The sound of the hinges creaking wrenches something undefinable inside and the finale when its finally shut echoes away into silence . No applause, no standing ovation. Then there's afterwards. When I sit up and the emptiness; the loneliness embraces me and I am hollowed. There's a reason why I'm indecisive. Its simply my method of avoiding self-inflicted disappointment that coexists with any decision I make. I don't want to keep you from anything, but your company is also really nice. Does that make me selfish? My fault, my bad.

When I hear that door close between my dear friend and I?
My heart drops and I can't seem to find it again.
Maybe because its one thousand, eight hundred and eighty-three miles from me.

我想問你一個問題。。。


你愛我嗎？你真的愛不愛我。
你為什麼選擇我？


我不會滿足，如果你告訴我 "因為這是命中註定的"。
因為我不相信緣分。

I feel like if I stay around too much, there's bound to be a wreck soon.

I'm taking a break, and the next time you ask me why I'm crying or upset, I don't want to have to lie and tell you its allergies.

I'm getting away from this time bomb before it kills us both.

But I'm going to start from when I was two. That was when I had a set goal in mind every day when I woke up. When the only thing that could make me upset was being forced to eat vegetables at dinner.

Then I was five, when I thought my brother was the most miraculous being alive for being able to press this button on a children's book to make it talk when every time I tried, I failed.

Kindergarten was a short dream. I learned the most I ever would in a year there. How to tell the weather, communicating, sharing. I learned crafts, the importance of specific things, the joys of never being alone. But then again, that was a time when we were all clueless about reality.

In Grade 1 was when I first really became "shy". I finally had a vague realization that the words 'best friend' didn't apply to every person in my class. This was also when I began to be wary of my brother.

By the time Grade 2 ended, I had experienced my first big loss, not a missing barbie shoe, but a person. I also had my first incident of bullying and being an outcast.

Before Grade 3, I had purposely committed my first minor felony and realized I'm not a person who can stand the weight of guilt. After Grade 3, I found two new loves in the form of one person.

Grade 4 was a year of rest.

The summer before Grade 5 was when I had to leave my safety to a place of unknown. I participated in friendlessness that year.

Sometime in Grade 6 was when my brother deemed me "unworthy to have our family name" in front of both me and our parents, it was my introduction to low self esteem and the feeling of being valueless.

I experienced my first death in Grade 7. I spent months crying after he was gone.

Grade 8 is when I felt normal for the longest time in my life.

Somehow, Grade 9 became the year of most drama, but also the year I enjoyed and appreciated the most despite losing someone to time.

I was slowly losing my grip on the things most important in Grade 10, but I couldn't bring myself to hold on any tighter. I was accepted into a family this year that I am sometimes ashamed to admit felt closer than my own.

I tried to regain the things I lost the year right after in Grade 11, and I'm still not exactly sure how well I did, but it was the year I actually felt like someone who was capable of achieving notable things.

The two months before Grade 12 was when I was isolated from nearly everyone but surrounded by even more was when I felt true loneliness and had caught a fever that showed me what delirious was like. I wasn't sure what I was doing when the school year finally started, I had to give up a dream to reality. It was slowly slipping from me anyways, so it wasn't as painful as it would seem.

It's been 3 weeks since my graduation from high school and I'm the most lost and confused I have ever been. I'm going in circles and I'm tired of ending up in the same spot. I want to move but I don't know in what direction. I haven't decided what sort of person I am yet, maybe you know and could tell me.

This is my evaluation.

I'm a prisoner of war for nothing.

There's whole generations fighting out there. For success? For love? For life?
People have always said I'd never make it. I'm not meant for greatness, I'm not destined to become one of them. Guess you ought to get your armor before we clash.

Strange how when we're finally facing each other on that battlefield, neither of us can remember what we're fighting for.
I think I'll put down my sword and drop my shield.

In reality, we're just a couple of kids trying to stay alive.
In dreams, we are alive.

There's this girl. I'd like to say who she is, but that would make this difficult for me to write. So there's this girl.

She's pretty typical, enjoys shopping, eating sweets and worries about needless things. She delights in cute and cuddly creatures, soft pillows and colors. On weekends she likes to snuggle under the blankets until noon when the day is most alive. She cares for her hair like a second pet next to her cat that keeps her company when she sleeps and painting her nails different colors makes her jubilant. Happy is her goal.

But she has this problem. She tends to set herself up for disappointment. Her daydreams drift too far and she loses her stability. She makes herself believe in things that won't come true but convinces herself until the very last day and very last moment that it would happen. And when it doesn't, she's crushed. She'll sulk, and she'll mope. She'll cry, and when she cries-she cries. Then, as if it had never happened she'll do it all over again with a smile.

Repeat.

That is the awful life of a girl, naive and dumb.
A girl I suppose I could now call me.

Its kinda funny how we take certain things to heart.

Have you ever been a nobody before? Just another pair of lungs taking up air? It leaves a pit in my stomach, so empty and so cold. Nobody gives a damn about her, especially the one who should have the most.

Have you ever found a light in that pit? One so warm and compassionate that chased away all that darkness? She held onto that light-her new family,never again did she want to go back for she was finally someone.

Someone people cared about, someone people saw. Someone that wouldn't be passed or ignored. All it really takes... is just one person.

Have you ever felt that light dying, feel the tenderness dwindle away? See the glow get eaten alive by the shadows from before? It's sad to never be acknowledged, but to have a taste of that hand pulling you away from the wall, the light finally falling in your eyes and to be pushed back to the same place as before is a tragedy.

And when that heart is torn up from the same feelings they tried to get away from from the start;
I just want to ask, is it still funny?

Sick. So so sick. You are.
Disgusting and sad, yet so hurtful.
I have finally met you, the fucked up people Luis tells me about. Those who take self pleasure in bringing anyone down. The ones that laugh at someone else's discomfort and pain, reveling when you can amplify the torment. You are built from mockery and control. Your eyes seek only weakness and your ears deaf but to the lament of your victims.

That's what you are, sick and twisted, so sick and twisted...
I wish I could take every last tear you left me with and gouge what "heart" you have in your rotting flesh of a body. I hope you choke on your malice and it shreds your throat open from the inside out.
You repulse me the most.

I think I'm afraid of going to sleep. Because thats when secrets aren't secrets anymore, when the only thing that protects you is darkness and even that is something we can't trust to keep our raw self from the things that want to hurt it.

Its actually probably not even that, but the insecurities that keep swarming my mind while I lay there and jump from thought to thought without clear reasoning. I can't focus anymore, or maybe there's just nothing for me to focus on.

I believe its just the realization, as I'm propped up against a pillow on my bed in the lightless environment. The low hum of the computer, the silence from my phone and the emptiness. No matter what, when you fall asleep you are utterly alone-in mind and sense-until you wake up again.

I used to love playing that card game. That is, before I was aware of how alone I was playing it.

"I used to be the kid that nobody cared about, you just have to keep shouting until they hear you out."

Maybe we'll start feeling the air fall, maybe I'll finally get to hold the warmth of your heart in my hands, and maybe the moon will be too bright but it won't change my mind.

What an exquisite voice!
I suppose if he suggested for me to eat the fruit, I would have without a thought. You should know that I rob, I don't steal. We're all sinners here, promise.