this time.

This is where it all begins. Where it settles nicely. Arranged so carefully. Well, at least that's the way I imagine it. Only, I can't control every variable. Nor do I want to. This time, spontaneous won't seem so terrifying. Risks will be taken. Taken with baby steps, but taken nonetheless. It's the only way for the pieces to fit together. The quiet spells can't be returned. This isn't a contest. A game. This is real. This is where it has begun. On its own. Only, with the help of a little push. Taking it right over the edge.

Honestly

I think maybe. Maybe it just seemed right. Exactly what I was supposed to do. Supposed to feel. Only it wasn't. Yet it was. Too late to change. To think for myself. To make my own decisions about you. What was I thinking? I suppose I wasn't. Mostly just hoping for the impossible. For magic. For the unexpected. Impossible. Everything that I was thinking. Only now, opposite thoughts are marching into my head. Demanding. Wondering. Why. Why play games and risk it? Why remind yourself of that day. The one that could have ended. The same day that started it all. I can't answer that. It just makes sense. For everyone else. But me.

Second Chances

Are you ready? Ready to start. To step into this. Whatever 'this' is. Whenever 'this' starts. However you'd like it to. If that's even true.

I just might be. Right at this moment. Ready to jump. Over the lines. Over the towering walls. So carefully placed. Neatly by your side.

A few more steps is all I need. Really. A few. A push. Just a little one. One to start this internal conflict. Starting with a shove. Big enough to stir things up. To create the familiar uneasy feelings. Covering up the empty. Although, never completely empty. Never for long. Never without you. Only. You. You, the emptier. You've switched sides. Taking on a new role. The one. The one capable of shoving. Just a little. Enough to organize my thoughts. Enough to convince me that I'm ready. Ready to start.

Repetition.

Everything hit at once. Everything that I was happily living without. Everything that I worked so hard to get rid of. To let go. Obviously didn't go very far. The internal shivers are back. The ones that show up despite layers of warmth. The ones linked to trauma. And everything else nicely sealed in that envelope. Or so I thought. Welcome back internal tremors. The dizzy swirling turns are back. Taking over. Planting its stubborn instructions in my head. My head that insists on spinning. My head that wants to twirl around leaving my body behind. Motionless. Welcome back dizzy swirls. Make yourselves at home.

Departure

What did I think was going to happen? Well, I hadn't actually thought that far. The moment was enough to keep me happy. Keep me away from the truth. I suppose it's always been that way. With the truth hanging somewhere. Just out of reach. Pushed out of my mind. Why would I want to picture that? To constantly search for destruction. For a way out. Perhaps for the sake of tradition. I've come to expect it. I've become paranoid. Not that I can help it. Not that it will go away anytime soon. That may never change. I will always be stubborn and awkward. Fragile and sarcastic. Built for some kind of destruction. Only, without an explanation of how it will work. What effect it will have. Surprise. Surprise. I'll take my chances. Not that I necessarily deserve them. Or any of this. This whole set up. Set up for disappointment. I'm sorry. I wish I could be exactly who you think I am. I wish I could tell you everything. Everything and anything. Only. I can't. I prefer being invisible. Slightly out of your reach. Keeping up the charade. Everything's fine. You won't have to worry. Not about me. Me, the invisible one. The one who's constantly afraid. Of. Everything. Only. It's not quite fair. To have everything I should be right there in front of me. Just out of reach. A little too far away. Maybe I should stop reaching. Stop pretending that everything is fine. Start letting it out. Letting you in. Maybe. Only. It's far too late for that. The story must change. And change. Until the truth is no longer recognizable. No longer needed. No longer capable of causing harm. It should though. It should always recreate the same feelings. Until they all blend together as one. One big mess. That's more truthful than you would expect. Maybe. Maybe this would be better if I didn't believe so strongly in childhood wishes. In savings and halves. In wishing on stars. Always hoping. For things I never really had any control over. I suppose it has to be that way. It's only fair. It's the only way to keep going. To break out of the hiding place. To come out with it all.

To make room for something new. New on the inside. With no place to hide.

Spectaculariousity

I suppose I should thank you. For really listening. For making a few small changes. Enough to offer a true escape. A way out. Although, one with a time limit. For once, I was glad for that. Dreading, yet there was no alternative. An escape that was merely a journey in disguise. One that required a return. One that had to be faced alone. One that couldn't be punctured. Destroyed. Transformed. One that wouldn't make me stronger. Wouldn't change anything at all. Couldn't even. One that was filled with paranoia. Paranoia that would never have made sense. The situation didn't call for it. Paranoia, yet wonder. Wonder that would never have made sense. Wonder that was without a reason. There was no reason to turn around. No reason to have let that thought cross my mind. Once. Twice. More than necessary. More than I would have liked. Only, exactly what I would have needed. Exactly what never happened. And exactly what will never happen again. For lack of qualifications... among other things.

Confinement

Your voice is overpowering. Blocking out all other thoughts. Covering the only one who dares to oppose you. Only. Your opposer is much smaller. One voice. Small actions. That will never be a suitable match for you. You and your choir of hate. Your chants that send shivers down my spine. You don't belong here. Your cause is unjust. Turning once innocent bystanders into a mess of followers. What. Have. You. Done. You've created fear with the mere power of words. I'm afraid to speak. To look. Anywhere but down. I just want to walk faster. Closer to my escape. To silence. To safety. To freedom. To speak my own words. Releasing my inner thoughts. In my foreign, forbidden language.

Centrifugal

I can see where you are now. Despite your disappearing act. I can see what you've been hiding. Stepping carefully around. Avoiding all paths that lead to this. The one thing you can't ignore. Can't avoid. Can't bring yourself to admit. Only. It stops here. No more chasing. No more red lights. There can't be any more. Neither seemed to work. Nothing will reach those who insist on floating. Not that they have a choice. Not that it can be controlled. Only. Maybe it can be beaten. Maybe there's a safe way down. Maybe. Maybe everything will work out. Maybe you'll stop hiding. Stop disappearing. Stop tearing apart. Maybe.

Parentheses.

This is just a cycle. A cycle you are unaware of. You fit in quite nicely. Classed in two separate parts. This is just a cycle. Only. I wish it would end. A way out that would eliminate the repetition. Instead, I am faced with long periods of silence. A taunting quiet. Tease. It will never last. The chain is only breaking. Temporarily relieving me of its routine. This madness will never end. This is just a cycle.

Mirrored

I never thought I would cross over to the other side. Your side. I never expected to be in that same situation without being the victim. It's strange how it all makes sense now. How everything falls into place when the world is seen from another perspective. Only, now there are even more lingering pieces. Each one crying out for an explanation. An explanation that can't be reached. There are too many new and uncomfortable blocks lying in the way. Attempting to hide everything and anything. Nothing can hide the fact that the natural and comforting will easily disappear, leaving confined and forced in it's place. The two that cannot be pushed away.

Pieces

Well...today it finally sunk in that summer is indeed on it's way to an end. I suppose it's about time. If I could have a few more days, they would be strategically placed, resulting in halves and butterflies. Only, a few wouldn't be enough. I can only hope for endless. Endless smiles and worries. The inseparable duo. For now, I'll just enjoy the remaining days one at a time. All the while still hoping that there will be more chances, more moments and more time. . .
1. I have three years of my life documented in a journal. I would force myself to write in it every single day because I didn't want to forget any of it. I hated forgetting little things in the past years. It's strange to see the similarities between then and now. At least now I know where my paranoia comes from. My inability to trust people. No one is ever who they claim to be. I've always trusted the wrong people and then watched as their true intentions are spelled out for me. But which is worse, blindly trusting or expecting the worst?
2. It was perfect. Just long enough for me to appreciate how special it was. It doesn't seem fair that it was over before I could even realize how much I would miss it. It shouldn't be. I had no idea then that I would spend the next few years trying to put the pieces together. Trying to figure out what went wrong. Overanalyzing. Overthinking. My specialities. Why did everything have to fall apart as quickly as it came together? More repetition. I'm back to the same place as I was in eight years ago. Only. It's not quite the same. Little scars and memories won't leave my side. If only that were true for the rest. If only the attacks weren't quite so far apart.
3. Why are you so far away? Why do you insist on playing these games? Why can't you remember. Anything and everything. Everything that won't fit together anymore. Everything that goes through my mind. Everything that makes complete sense to you.

Separation

1. It shouldn't have been that easy. To slip away unnoticed. Separating the unsure and unstable just to find a way out. Nighttime fears pushed aside to make room for incoming worries and disappointments. It shouldn't have been that easy to erase all thoughts and just imagine. Pretend that all was well and that anything could happen. That only goes so far. Soon enough it's a game where failure is distant and unfamiliar. Success is just around the corner in the form of false smiles and warmth. For now, escape is the only option.

2. I wish that I could believe that everyone has some good in them. That the negative parts that I seem to see are exaggerated and hardly noticeable. Highly unlikely. Working in retail has made up my mind for me. One nasty comment can ruin my whole day and leave them with a sense of accomplishment. But of course, the customer is always right, so I must stand there and smile, wishing them a pleasant afternoon. Lovely. It's either that or building up meaningless bubbles of conversation. Exchanging 'hello how are you's without really expecting anything but a 'fine and yourself?'. Am I allowed to publicly have a bad day, or is that something that a retail robot has no knowledge of? It's all a routine that becomes automatic. A list of four phrases accompanied by stutters and stumbles when a change is presented. The ideal change is when you finally present yourself with a genuine smile and a caring attitude. Until then, I'll be waiting.

Now.

It was just a moment. Another one of those times where everything else matters. Only, I wish it didn't. Those moments where I wish I could disappear and just be left alone. Alone and out of sight, even just for a minute. Unfortunately, that never happens. The chance to leave unnoticed never presents itself. And once again, I'm stuck in this moment.

534

I wonder if the past is repeating itself to send a message. Maybe. But then again, maybe I'm just making connections that aren't really there. Maybe I'm just picturing the strange looks and raised eyebrows. Maybe I'm just trying to place myself right back into the back seat. Then again, maybe I've never left.

disagree

Why do we even have rules? What's the point in having a policy when it can be easily broken as soon as someone raises their voice. Of course.. that someone is never me, because I'm supposed to be the calm one, the one who says 'yes of course' and 'I completely understand'. See.. that's where the problem occurs. I don't like to be wrong. Actually, I don't like to be wrong when I know for sure that I am right. This is a terrible combination as I love to argue to prove my point and will not stop until the other person gives up.. usually. Anyway, back to rules. . I hate exceptions to the rules. I hate making exceptions to the rules. My job is to explain the rules and calmly state why they can't be broken as I maintain eye contact, nod and smile. Lovely. Now, that would be simple, as well as fake, but I have to consider the fact that the other person's reaction can't be predicted. They will either feel bad and give up or turn various shades of purple and start yelling and insisting that I am wrong. The rules are all wrong. They should be broken for the 'right people'. They should be broken or else. Or else they will never come see me again... Okay... See.. I don't really care.. I'm not allowed to say that, but if I could speak my mind to these strangers it would be quite interesting to say the least. That was basically my weekend at customer service. It's a shame I manage to stay calm. There is such potential for out of the ordinary reactions from both parties. Anyway, all this to say, if I had my way, there would be no exceptions whatsoever.

Other than that, the summer has brought a bunch of projects. Most of them are still half finished or planned out. My enthusiasm for a project usually dies about halfway through. The exception to this is that I was able to finish sewing my first non-patterned article of clothing. Please ignore that use of the word 'exception'. I still need to finish about 5 other 'projects' before the summer is up. Knowing me, I will just end up adding more to that list and have twice as many unfinished ones by the time school starts. Bad idea. At least it's only June. I have all summer to finish them. . when I find the time.

Renew

It almost doesn't feel real. A year's worth of hidden thoughts, overthinking and wasted time. Lack of trust and paranoia. A year's worth of red lights, lies and internal shivering. Assisted misery. What better time to shed those memories than spring/ not quite summer/ it feels like summer time. In honor of false summer starting, the list will be making a temporary appearance.
This week..
1. I had forgotten what it was like to work full time again. To improve my non-existant acting skills and pretend to be deeply interested in complete strangers' lives. To ask questions and give ridiculous smiles and finish every sentence with "Parfait!". Ugh. Nothing perfect about that.
2. I've noticed that procrastination has creeped it's way into my summer "goals" list. Either that, or I have no time management skills. I have started every single one of them and now have unfinished projects lying around. Not a pretty sight. I love starting projects but I seem to either get uninspired halfway through, run out of time or just get bored and start another. Seven days after exams and I've already done too much.
3. I have no idea how to study effectively anymore. I'm much too distracted. And too prone to sleep when it gets too dull. I miss being able to condense all of my notes into a small amount written nicely in 10 different colours. I always write nicer when I allow myself to use my 'nice pens'. That's probably the reason why I don't use them often. Either that or I'm secretly saving them. I used to save everything and claim that one day I will need whatever it is I was saving.. I wound up with a bunch of strange collections and unopened packages. It's a shame. I would have loved to use them when I first had them.
4. I still feel as if I am a year behind. I always feel like I'm the person I wanted to be one year ago. Am I that slow at making changes? Do I really overthink that much?.. Agh.. Someone invent a time machine, so I can tell myself to hurry up and make a decision. To stop overthinking and just go straight to action. To stop comparing and wondering. It will be too late. Time will be up soon and I can't bear to lose it this time. From QWYL to now. I still haven't learned the meaning of the word 'action'. Waiting for something that will soon expire probably isn't the best idea.
5. I think I've escaped from the secrets room. The room with no doors or windows. The room I was drowning in. They have been reduced to be able to fit into a small bucket. Painted white and missing stones. I don't think I'll ever find them. But maybe that's a good thing. Four less. That's about average. I won't be seeing twenties for a while now. It's too unrealistic. It only ends up leaving unbelievably high expectations. I've never liked those.
6. I wish I would have listened to her advice. Back when folding and old songs would always bring smiles. What would have happened then? Where would we be now? Would you still have left and passed the blame onto me? Fear and paranoia were making their entrance. The situation seems to be quite similar and yet I'm only now noticing that the shaded grey area is disappearing. Time will be up soon. If I keep this up.
7. No more flutters. No more shivers. It wasn't enough. Temporary relief. I don't want any more.

Letters on the Ceiling

If you had to choose, would you? Or would you wait and ponder and forget that not everything stays still. Not everything can or will wait. Waiting it out seems to be the best route. Just a little while longer. Just to make sure. Can't be certain. Why bother? If there's doubt, maybe there's a reason. Maybe there was a reason for those letters. For each roughly drawn letter. Each meaning lying behind the lines. Between the lines. The ones that only appear months later. Only when you really start to question. To reconsider the meaning of truth and lies. To consider what's been lost. Three. Three that were never seen. Never noticed. Never discovered until it was too late. Will they be replaced, or will it be constantly lacking those extra three. Never satisfied. Never complete. It seems that replacements are in order. Only. Not for real use. Just to show that there can be new again. That is.. Until they fall and remain as they were. Sprawled across the floor.

Sleepless

Picturing the strange, unfamiliar new world that was soon to be introduced to me was frightening. Terrifying yet exciting. Where am I supposed to go from here? Face the truth and discover how thick these walls really are, or stay away, hide away from what was once inescapable. Face the risk of lengthy comparison and possibly relive the awful collapse. The internal collapse, the familiar emptiness. The accusing glances and hollowed whispers. Only predicted, but the fear still carries on. I suppose I can't avoid it. Can't try to escape. There is no real escape. One way leads to an end, a break down, and the other is a path to destruction. Either way, the truth will present itself. It will bubble up inside and let out bursts of words barely strung together. Will it be my truths, my words or the expected ones. The immediate conclusions drawn from betrayals and false truths. Assumptions and trailed thoughts. Either way, time is up. This world of strangeness is clearly in view. Only, the reflections have faded from it.

Stencil

I'm sure it could have been false. Created just for me. In just the right way to tell me exactly what I want to hear. Well, it worked. I believed it. I hope you're happy. It was just what you were designed for. To help. To slowly uncover bits of truth. It wasn't easy, but I applaud your attempt. Your successful attempt. It all makes sense now. Everything can neatly be classed into files and folders in nice little boxes. Oh how I've waited for this moment. For you to show up. Show your face and in turn be held responsible. For lifting the tension and brightening the cloudy, rainy, otherwise awful day. For peeling off layers to reveal something new. Something brighter. Something with room for change. Something that I can be.

Pieces of Orange

One. Two. Once more. Only.. that's enough. I'm afraid you'll catch on. Catch on to my little distraction. Almost defective. I've become immune to distractions. Or maybe just these. No. None seem to be working. The only thing I can count on is escapes. Escapes without people. Without judgement. Without walls. Escapes that can no longer lead to childhood. Crossed out. Crossed over. Crossed behind my back. I still remember. Only. It seems to have slipped your mind. Or maybe that's just me. I'll admit, I too had forgotten. It's the only way I can get through this. Forgetting. Forgetting you. You and your tricks. Your lies. Your.. My lack of trust. It seems the one mistake was forgetting. If only. If only I had remembered your actions. Your words. All repeated. Same time. Same order. Could have predicted. Could have prevented. The Quiet Syndrome. Welcome. It's all falling into place. Or. Rather. Out of place. Everything is falling apart. Drifting away. I'd rather you stayed. Right where I can see you. Every day. Any day. Only just simply to be. To express and expose. Or. Fine. But you know that trick. You know exactly how it works. But. That's okay. I know another. Another word to hide behind. Okay. Additionally shifting. Only. You tend to ask questions. Questions I can't always answer. At least not without breaking. Breaking down. Into pieces. Pieces of orange. Pieces that cannot be ignored. Pieces that I will try to hide. Try my very best. To push aside the truth and slip on my vaguely familiar suit. Not a way out. But a way of extending. Extending the time between breaks. Between falls. Between buildups. Buildups and breakdowns. That is where you'll find me. Discretely jumping. Avoiding. All around and all around you. It's the only way I know. It's the only way I can hide and never be found. You'll never open the door. You'd never think to look there. The thought will never cross your mind. And when it does. Don't worry. I will already have disappeared.

Gloves.

Eternally. Internally.

Destructure

I don't know if I can ever forgive. Forgive. Forget. Eliminate. It's not that easy. I can't help but hold a grudge. I can't help but feel the pull. Unraveling what was held so neatly together. Composed. Rows of twine and ribbon loosely tied. Unraveling slowly. Decomposing. Stop pulling.

Tunnel Talk

White room. White walls. Grey windows. Covered. Only a tiny hole prevents inner torture. White floor. White ceiling. Grey door. Locked. Only a faint knocking worsens the constantly shifting mind. The room stands. Observing. Absorbing all that's near.
Only.. It will all be too much. Overwhelming. About to burst. White walls will tighten their grip on the ceiling. Useless. It will be too late. Thin strands of hidden truths will come flying out. Confetti in the air. Spiraling and whispering until they reach the ground.

Sinker

A broken mix of silvery, watered down words. I'm afraid you can't fall any lower than that. You can't possibly imagine what you've done. What effect your words have had on me. On the world. Especially the world. You've taken advantage of times of desperation for your own sick, selfish reasons. I can only hope that you are faced with a painful dose of guilt. Only.. I also hope that you realize how morally wrong your actions were. And. How far you can actually take a lie. How far is too far. In your case, it was too far from the start.

Punctuation

One again, I'm stuck. Caught in the middle of this innocent madness. Only, not completely innocent as it's not completely truthful. Possibly due to the fact that it's shoved into the space between denial and secrets. Would have stayed nicely there as well. Would have if not for the shovel. The predictions. The insistence. And the cold. Never failing to present itself. Especially in the face of disaster.

Placement

Well done. Well done. I really appreciate the effort made to create this extreme paranoia. Unfortunately, it was a flawed plan. You'll have to perfect your clever little plan and test it out. Only... I'd rather not be the test subject next time. I do not mix well with paranoia. First of all... I'm already extremely paranoid and freak out over everything. So, how fun would it be to see me freak out even more. Indeed. Only... I'm not prepared to change my habits that I'm oh so comfortable with just to add an extra dose of paranoia to my day. No thank you. Not today. No more changes. No more added paranoia. Thanks.

Conveniently

Why do companies insist on creating "convenient, practical, fantastic, miniature-sized" versions of everything? I've had quite enough of this nonsense. You cannot simply expect it to be the same as the larger version. When you downsize it, you end up reducing the quality and in some cases the flavour. That's where I draw the line. NO! I'm not overreacting. Miniature "Snack Sized" Oreos are horriblah. Horriblah and Hawful. You can't just shrink down oreos into tiny bits of chocolate (without changing the thickness of them) and a mini hole punch sized bit of icing.. sigh. It's just not the same..

Anyway, three of those tiny things ruined my morning. Okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration... They ruined the fact that I was looking forward to eating my oreos. I miss my full sized ones at home. Oh well. Never again will I make that mistake.

Terrification

Once again, the fears have returned. So much for my new year's resolution to be less afraid of everything, try new things and be less paranoid. Hmmm... Who knows what will happen now. I don't want to be afraid. Not of this. Not of the unknown. I just don't want to picture it. Death. Ughh.... Following me everywhere since childhood. Lovely, lovely. But. Only at night. Which makes complete sense because death only happens at night...riiiight. It's not fair either. I was told that you can get over a fear by facing it. So for my irrational (ridiculous-paranoid-screaming) fear of spiders, I should face it by dealing with them in a calm way and picking one up in my hand... Ummm... I'll pass. So basically, to face my fear of death, I have to experience death? Mmmm I can feel my fear disappearing already. . .

Remembering.

You'll never be far enough away.

Strangers

Welcome. Welcome back distractions. I hardly recognize you. Everything looks new again. Bigger. Brighter. Different. Distant. But this I remember. The emptiness that never found me. The crowded voices. Losing control by the minute. I just want it to stop. Stop reminding me of what I didn't do. Of what chances I've lost. I don't want to go back. It can't be the same. It's not too late. One voice can change. Change everything. It just has to be mine this time.

Wednesday.

I can't. One move was already enough. Removing layers of comfort. It was enough. Erasing years. Years of sinking. Drowning. Just a little. But now. Now I can't. Can't escape your gaze. Your questions. Insisting. Persisting. You won't find my answers. Or me. No. No falling back. No ups and downs. No turning back. I'm convinced. It was enough.