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ThEJeNSPoT
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Name: miss jenniflirt
Interests: finding someone who can slap some optimism into me without it hurting.
Expertise: bitter cynicism. fits of anger. activist riots. finding people's lost hope. watching lovers stroll downtown hand in hand. peanut butter and jelly. sarcasm. caustic wit. rollerblades. challenging perspectives. ketchup. inconsequential badinage. pessimism. puppy love. charming liars. whimsicality. abrasive banter. playful verbosity. watching my life unravel, one false romance at a time.
Industry: finance.
Message: message meEmail: email me
Member Since:
9/21/2002
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| “what do you want me to say?” he asked.
“i don’t know,” she replied.
she knows that life sometimes makes the choices for you and
she didn’t want him to ask her to stay or tell her to leave. it wasn’t what she wanted him to say rather
than what she really wanted him to do: read her mind.
lately, she was in a state of flux—a little frustrated, a
tad happy, a bit sad, and much ambivalence towards her fate. all she wanted was something that she could
never say aloud: to be babied.
most days she was fine but at just that one moment she
wanted to collapse under the stress and into the arms of a man, to be held and
told that everything would work itself out.
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| minus one til movei am numb to the world today. the entire week has dragged itself out yet
has become such a blur in my mind. i was
asked: isn’t this what you’ve wanted?
yes, it is.
it is different though, to have the end be on my terms and
to not have to watch something that i’ve built from the ground up suddenly
crash and burn. i was also not ready for
this emotional rollercoaster; i never would have thought that moving would be
so hard, that i love santa barbara and its residents this much.
i’ve lost myself to a flurry of frenzy this week and woke up
this morning not recognizing who i am. i
guess this is what you call one of those “chapters in life”.
i am ready now; i am me again; i will conquer the world
ahead.
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| i have been writing though i have not been posting. these days, it doesn't seem my imagination has much creativity nor do my words produce lovely strings of sentences.
i do want to say though, that today is the first day of the rest of my life. today marks the start of a new chapter.
thank you for looking over my shoulder, dear angel. i know this must be a blessing in disguise.
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| tonight is one of those nights that i need to be in the comfort of your strong arms; i want to be nestled against your bare chest and pretend that i am a girl again, being protected by her very own imaginary Aslan. | | |
| i do not understand why it is so hard to get rid of this
ache in my heart. even if i were to
overdose on medications, my heart would still pulse—this longing will not
cease. my body could ash and i could yet
still cry, a tell-tale soul lost in the in-between.
most nights i pray to him and beg for him to come visit me
in my dreams. just one last time that i
need to see him so that i can say a proper goodbye. i will not be a coward this time.
he doesn’t come.
the chatter amongst the adults results in a general
consensus that he doesn’t come back to us in dreams day or night so that we
should not have to prolong our grief. it
doesn’t work for me though, i need this.
i find that i have become afraid of the dark again. when i turn the last light off at night, i
lay in bed feeling as if the void in my heart has swallowed my room. i am sucked into a chasm of lost things and i
become the most lonesome of those things.
i am regressing back to my old habits, writing out my pain
as if somehow propelling these emotions into words could make them more
permanent, and less permanent in me. it
is said that the best art comes from the darkest of states.
i am there now: in a dark state of pensive solitude, a deep
chasm of all things lost, at the very depths of the river styx.
the one who can save me has already gone—and slowly, so have
i.
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