Trust... I just can't seem to get enough

Somethings just haven't been left in 2010. Something I wish could have been left in 2010 and others that have been around since '08 no longer are.
I lost a friend to my temper start of this week. Temper caused by something I have told my self would never cause anything like this and if it did not to be spoke of. I held on to something that gave me the power and justification to act an ass or for why I acted like a crazy woman by bursts of anger years ago and I gave it all way in less than 5 minutes let it consume me then end my friendship one thats has been around longer than my relationship because I was having issues trusting the person I am dating.
I would ask what you think about why it is I can't ever believe what I hear from those that say the love and care about me? I say its because those that used caring and loving as a glue to stay in my life have done nothing but bring me down and lie to my face so why why should this time be any different so I thought if he loves. has me and is telling me that its the truth I thought so could some one else that says they cared for me or loved me before this one came along.
I don't seem to let go to be able to trust that you will leave to do your thing and not be doing something that would disturb my happiness because I am always getting the worst end of the rope/stick what ever you want to call it.

Lets try this again

I am going to start blogging on a daily basis now I think because there seems to be so much going on in my life that feels too much to share with other or too stupid so its going up here from now on. I won't be doing any kind of filling you my riders if there are any even about what has been going on in my life apart from the basic things. Updated will on need to know bases related to current blogs.

I'm blogging again like I said because I am finding it hard once again expressing myself as I have in the past. I am so emotionally immersed in certain parts of my life right now which handicap me in the field of communication.

Its as if thoughts occupy my head but never make it to my paper or this blog. Its been months since I have even tried. Its as if my state of emotion has to be nowhere near stable grounds before the thought even crosses my mind.
I have something I have been us sure to share but whats the point of waiting. So here it goes. I am still waiting on a feed back and this was way before the new year abruptly brought it self around. Yeah Chris I am talking about your reply I never got Mr. MIA.

Looking for Passion: What for?

I have nothing to do because I can’t think, I think too much. Blank! All I can think is live each day as it is. Blankly. Just to let the day pass. Sounds stupid, pointless. Basically, a waste of life. So what am I supposed to do, then? I am stuck on my laptop which seems to be my best bud for the most part. Feeling like I live in a world of my own that I have created which no one can understand. So I don’t share it. At times I have tried and failed with no one to relate. So I try again here and now. Just me and this pointless thing I do and share with very few. Write. Clean my iTunes, Listen to endless Aol radio, play Mahjong with the thought of what its ending might be. I do this till my head ache like crap and my vision starts to blur at the side. So I am on a quest openly now than I have been in secret in the past for a passion; But for what? A euphoric “something” in your life that puts you either in fear of not accomplishing or in sensuality of success is something you might categorize as something you are passionate about.

What then am I passionate about?

There are many activists of some sort that say they are fighting for something and tell the whole world about it. This is funny though, because real activists work underground like silent killers, silent thinkers - purely revolutionary. For years now, activists have been fighting for justice, freedom, and peace. I wonder why until now they fought for the same reasons, like a never-ending battle, a never-ending passion. We all have rebellious thoughts, but not all have rebellious passion. I simply don’t care about politics, though.

Some people are passionate about saving the planet from all the trash it is in calling themselves environmentalists, warriors of the earth fighting battles nothing like the knights of the 14^th century who went to combat on foot. But these earth freaks are so intensely immersed in their passion. I on the other hand leave my phone charger plugged in continually.

Things Fall Apart, Memoires of A Geisha, Angels and Demons, To Kill A Mocking Bird, The Alchemist… The list goes on. All in my opinion are great works of literature I have read. Writers are passionate about literature. They are people made to think, think, do more thinking and put life to books make characters based on themselves or by what they see around them. Some what God like how he created Adam and Eve. Playing out roles you have always wanted to be part of but you decide their destiny from the start, unlike your own. One thing about creating is holding the responsibility of what you create.

I see people around me filled with passion for the game. The game of ball, playing women/men, video games; all which I know nothing of. I see how they feel their dream being fulfilled every time they step on the court, playing out their thoughts feeling like they have that other someone eating out of their hand.

I thought long and hard over all this, played it in my head over and over again letting that thought linger and now that thought has been produced it’s only human nature. You might be thinking you are the only one with that certain passion but somewhere out there millions of people are too. Passion is never selfish.

I would like to be considered an artist of some sort with great passion for what I do someday. Be able to clarify my feelings and thoughts into words. Form a concoction of these words with my voice and a melody like music to the ears of the world. But for now I’ll keep searching and leave all this as it is. Passion for Passion.

If your sheets could talk I always wonder what they would say
Would they tell me the nights they spent cold and alone
when you never made it to bed. Remind me of the time you swore I would be the only one you share em with. To tell me about the other black curly haired girl, One just like me
Those soft sheets I curled under and patiently waited to feel your arms around and your warmth next to me.
If my walls could talk I wonder what they whispered in your ear when I am dead asleep. Tell you about the times I cried myself to sleep with you right next to me. Shedding them in hopes of reading me from those feelings.
If only those sheets talked to me like I wished for these walls to do for you
The wall of my sleeping face, Mouth moving telling all my secrets
Hold back the most with foreign rumbles....
Which I later on disclose to no one of importance in the matter













It's not done but I haven't put anything up in forever. Don't want this blog to turn out like the other 3 now do we?

I hate it

Don't let the title confuse you. This is all going to be of appreciation and reminiscing on how things seem to be turning out.

So this is where I am in my life I don't seem to be able to hold on or let go when I need to.
Its as you have read before I stay stuck in reverse. while I am watch everything else move by.
I don't even know how to put it all out here or anywhere as a matter a fact and I am not the only one who knows this my friends see it too of how things in the past that have gone by undisclosed. The Pandora box I purposely closed to keep friendships from falling apart at the cost of mine. How now we stay up for hours talking about our mistake as if we have learned from them when we know deep down inside if we were given a second chance we would probably be the same.

Why is it that we now find the courage to admit things we should have to make it all better. Why is it that everyone saw it and we never did. why do we have to keep going through this like I am reading pages of the same book time and time and time again that I want to take out the pages and burn them one by one to end the never ending circle I seem to run around.
Gaining company but with time losing parts of me seems to be redundant
failure to communicate either by chance or choice.

If it all hasn't been said then it is not done.

I am giving up

Like I already haven't

My heart beats for you
It stops and starts and bleeds for you
when breath leaves my body
and my lips have long turned blue
dirt suffocates my soul
and still I'll be begging for you.

I believe in all your promises,
and the way you hollow out my name.
I need the lies you say
to hide what I became.
And now that everything is over
(you dont look at me the same)
But I need you, to dull the pain.

Nobody ever says anything that means something.
I feel like I should be living but I feel like I'm dying.
I'm closing on an edge and I can't see over.
I'm drowning.

Reached the end of MY rope. I don't like the way you treat ME so I am doing something about it. If I am not nice to you then you DON'T deserve niceness from me. A lot of things can go both ways. And when you come to realisation what has changed you have no one but yourself to blame because I have done MY part. I AM DONE.

I read this somewhere

What can I say I can absolutely relate.

To be honest I am not a nice person... Actually I am the worst...I play games because its fun and I purposely will make you feel like an idiot... My standards are High because I want the best but deep down inside I know I will be settling for the rest of my life. I am... an outcast in the sense that no one is like me...I am the worst person because I am a female who trusts no one.

Its been a week filled with suprises. Disappointments and realization. In so many ways than expected.

Yet again I find myself having to start moving on time and time again.
I feel for Her and Him. I want to protect them both from it all but
How do you do that when everyone around it is trying to do the same
and failing miserably.
You two on the other hand are no longer seen the same way in my eyes
Some people just don't deserve what they get.
How sad it is to stand on the side lines and watch it all pass by
Is that how the rest sees me?