So I'm really freaking tired in all ways humanly possible.

Physically, I feel like I'm falling to pieces, and it only gets worse with every hour that passes by. Being sick really really blows. And I feel emotionally exhausted to the point where I want to just hole up in my room and disappear from the world and appear in a world filled with music, because music doesn't impose itself on anyway. It just exists and all it asks is that someone listen to it.

I was going to post a blog a long time ago, but I hit backspace because I spelled something wrong, and somehow my internet did a hiccup. So the text box wasn't selected when I hit backspace, and my computer took it as a Go Back thing. And so it did, deleting everything that I had written. And I had written what I thought was some pretty good stuff. So I just didn't feel like trying to bring it back.

Spring break has brought a standstill to a lot of things. Though I think it's going to more like the top of a roller coaster. Where things slow down for that one second before things go tumbling down again, faster than ever. I'm not saying things will be negative, I'm just saying things will be quick. And this break is awesome really. It almost feels like I've gone back in time slightly. Talking to old people, and not talking to others. It helps me forget the negative things. Or at least turn a blind eye to them. Though I know they'll be back.

I had some weird ass dreams last night. And when I say weird, I really mean it. Though I guess that's to be expected when you're sick. There were a few sections to the dream that I remember. All of them took place at my school. The one thing they had in common was that I was acting way out of character. In the dream, I recognized all the extremes of emotion that stay inside my body usually. All the things I usually hold back because I mark them as monstrous. 

Anyway. It starts off as the end of the day and I'm just walking listening to music that I really can't hear. And Will pops up. Usually we get along pretty well, despite the fact that he's really headstrong and only cares about his own opinions. Anyway, he starts pushing me around, and I really don't do anything. I tell him to stop and back off. But it turns into a fight.

This is where it's different from all my usual dreams involving fights. If it's a hand to hand fight, none of my attacks do anything. It's like I have no strength, and they do no harm.

This time though. I just snap. I kick him as he tries to punch me. My foot lands in his stomach, and instead of pulling it back, I push forward and he goes to the ground. Surprised, I get off of him, and let him get back up. But now I'm excited, and the fight goes on. And I'm fast and strong. I beat the crap out of him. Someone screams to stop and all of a sudden I'm answering my phone, clothed in stuff I don't recognize. Anyway, skipping the phonecall part. I walk into Chinese class and there's Hannah. I yell at her and tell her off and how much a bitch she is. She starts to cry, and then there's ink all over her face instead of tears. Then Erin's asking me to J-Prom. I stutter and fumble, trying to find a way to say No without being mean. But then all of a sudden I'm pulling her into a classroom and pin her against a wall, and I start telling her how there's no way in hell I'm going to J-Prom, how it's a waste of money and a stupid night. She just kinda nods and looks away, but now she's smaller and her hair is straight. It's someone else, but I really can't make out her face, so I don't know who it was. And of course it changes again, and I'm walking through the halls and they're overly crowded. Somehow I rip off a segment of lockers and fling them off far into the hall. Then everyone marches with me upstairs and we get into one of the math rooms. It's a weird color, and that makes me pause while I ask if the rooms were always that color. Someone says No, and then I grab a desk by its leg and fling it towards the window, and then I wake up in a very messy bed.

The sheets were every which way and I felt even worse than I did the previous morning. Dreams are usually really interesting. But it seems there are more dreams with me pale than there are just normal ones. Oh yeah, when I have a dream in which I act severely out of character, my skin is always really pale and white. And one time I got a look at my eyes and they were white too.  

Anyway. Normal life. I've signed up to help out a photographer, and she'll be giving me a free photoshoot. It'll be later in May, and I'm kinda looking forward to it.

UGh. I feel like shit.

Out~

What if I closed my eyes on this life. But instead of stopping my breathing, I started to live.

Something inside me opens up to the fog and the mist of the moon and the night.

The hidden parts of the body become my skin

Pain becomes my pleasure and I lose the meaning of words because words have no meaning

We breathe what we are. I breathe my neighbor who breathes who they hate

Ideas grown on branches ripen and rot

Life of the smallest factors eat away at something that could never be

The city finally realizes what it was made for and falls to the ground

Everyone is buried and dies.

Dancers leap across the rubble, commenting at the beauty of the artful stage that is the night sky

Stars wink at bugs who copy their images

And I'm five years ago....and three thousand miles away

the dark lands that nobody can ever speak of because lips are glued to the ground that they plan to walk on, blessed by the posibility of tomorrow and the setting sun. Artist paint their eyes colors they can't see in hopes that something real will be grown from ink of pens that run across paper like children in the summer who know nothing of pain over grass that grows like graves on a plot of land belonging to a god who whispers to his people but nobody can listen because their ears are filled with rivers of clouds where they fly. Birds scream and devour the sun because they can, and the sun cries of stars calling to brothers that are too far away for anybody to see. But we try because we have eyes in our faces and faces of wax and plastic manufacture on lines of paper crumpled dead by animals that run into arms of those who feed them but are only ghosts. I sit around a fire because I am too hot to be left in the cold. The cold is filled with ice that cuts and kills, so I am content to watch the laws of the universe play themselves out on the stage before me. One actor decides to better his character and spins a different way. Money flies, and people clap for a mistake that is considered genious, and the mastermind is left to be in the cold. A guitarist plays a soft melody for his mute ears only. Tasteless notes erupt from a mouth of a starving man, making him fat. A child beaten to a shadow crawls from the ashes hoping to meet a phoenix. Chains wrap around his ankles laughing at feeble attempts to say hello to something that doesn't understand what a greeting is. A door cries out because it refuses to budge, guarded by a creature that sings razors from the air that are never used to cut. A whisp convulses asking to do something as it's torn asunder through indesisiveness. And the typewriter runs out of ink to tell the author that his story is a painting and the sleep is a canvas. Nobody listens, and all they can do is watch with veiled eyes staring into a blinding light that melts the fabric that a movie is cast upon without any regard what will be shown.

Take a fist to all that is breakable.

Words are emotions, and emotions are lies. Emotions are strings

Strings have no feeling and are the spider's web

The spider runs from the rain

and the puppet master tosses down the cross to a baby who picks it up and bears it across its back withthe skill of a martyr.