Prisonbreak

Prisonbreak

Angelic Eyes take a wrong turn on the path of life

Seeing what they shouldn't see

Seeing what they don't want to see.

Innocent Eyes which had no business wandering

In search of the lifeless Hope.

For Hope - she has disappeared into the Abyss

When he trapped her with his tempting swirls of deceit.

These poor Eyes that saw everything all at once

Now bear no resemblance to the purity they once had,

Corrupted by visions of Hope letting herself be blindly engulfed by 

The Abyss, who laughs maliciously at the Eyes.

These Eyes see no more happiness, no more love.

They see pain, heartbreak, tears.

They are traumatized - vulnerable to the Abyss's allure.

And the Abyss tries to tempt the Eyes.

-- Beautiful Eyes that lost their luster --

And the Eyes fall prey.

They feel themselves forced closed into an everlasting darkness.

All because of the Abyss.

No.

All because Hope wandered off in search of her own happiness - 

Ignoring the calls of those who really needed her.

Hope is too weak to break the bonds of the Abyss,

But the eyes of an angel are stronger.

Before darkness could consume them entirely, the eyes open!

Free!

Forever tainted by hope.

And never fully happy.

But at least they can see...

Old Habits Die Hard.

**Found this from months and months ago. Thought I'd repost since it's still pretty much how I feel. **

Friday, May 16, 2008: 

I know that I can really read into things too deeply. And I know I stress over the littlest things. And many a people know that. And I am positive they know who they are, and are chuckling at this paragraph already. 

I'm a paranoid person, with too many insecurities - though I try to keep that all hidden. And yeah, I like to think I do a good job of it. 

But sometimes, the littlest things are all you HAVE to stress over. I think I'm happy enough that I don't stress over the big things. They don't bother me because, well, what's the point? Who cares if someone thinks you look ugly? Who cares if he's talking behind your back, or she's only pretending to be your friend? Who cares if other people think you look like a fool for defending yourself? Who cares if you want to be different? 

So yeah. I get bothered by the little things. Things like...when people are messy, when people are dumb, when people don't appreciate all the luxuries they've got, when people don't appreciate the luxuries of LIFE, when people don't understand what work ethic is, when lazy people complain, when people are mean, when people are pretentious, when people who don't know how to read graduate high school, when people who are skinny think they are fat, when people who are fat complain about being fat and continue to take a huge bite of that Big Mac (seriously, shut up. you like food. the end), when people say they'll kill themselves because they're "depressed", when people who are depressed try to "kill themselves", when people feel a need to look good because it's the only way they feel good, when beautiful people think they look like shit, when people pity themselves, when people pity others, when people stress the tiniest things ever - yeah, I know I'm a contradiction. 

What is the common factor here? PEOPLE. 

People are bitter, selfish, greedy, and unappreciative. 
People are the problem. 
People need to stop caring about other people, and what they think and do! 

It's why people are so terrible. People care too much. And terrible as it may sound, people need to stop caring. Life is so much easier that way. As a person who has stopped caring what people think, living HER life to its fullest, and not taking anyone's shit anymore, life just tastes that much sweeter. 

And if there was one thing I wish that everyone in the world could learn it is this:

BE HONEST. STOP LYING. DON'T OMIT. SPEAK UP. SAY WHAT YOU FEEL. 
Stop acting like people (your friends, for instance) are too scary to stand up to or confide in. Stop keeping things bottled up when someone OFFERS an ear! They obviously want to help, so why not let them? What is the worst that could happen? Stop acting like no one could possibly understand you and that the world is out to get you. Because it's not. Grow up and just stop it all. 

The Heart of the Matter

I think I am a romantic at heart. I don't show it, but deep down when I am I am reading about or watching sappy things like candlelight dinners, walks on the beach, or even just a loving kiss, I get sad inside wishing I could have that. And yet, if someone shows me the smallest act of romance, I feel smothered. Maybe I'm smothered by fear, maybe not. I'm not exactly sure. I know that once I experience love, it will be an epic adventure. 

It's funny. The way romance is written in books and movies and television shows...you'd think maybe people would take a hint from the media and try to recreate the happily-ever-afters. After all, doesn't everyone ultimately want just that - a happily ever after? Or maybe that's just some real wishful thinking. Maybe it's just a clever tactic after all to keep ratings up. Lonely women sit with their pints of ice cream and woefully wonder "Why not me?" Okay. So I'm stereotyping. Sue me.

But honestly, every woman - I don't care what you say - wants their happily ever after in some way, shape, or form. They want to be happy with someone who will love them for who they are, not who they aren't. Someone who will embrace their flaws rather than point them out or mock them. Someone who will hold them when they want to be held; who will hug them and wipe away their tears; who will laugh with them, cry with them, fight with them, make up with them. 

So how do we get there? How do we find someone that will last with us through the good, the bad, the thick and the thin? How do we know who is exactly right for us? Is there someone EXACTLY right for us? Is settling the only thing left we can do, is life in this period of time based specifically on settling? And if that's the case, why even bother? These are all age old questions that every lonely woman constantly begs to be answered. It's interesting how alike humans can be even though they are supposed to be their "own unique individuals". No. Such. Thing. We might all be different people, but when it comes down to it, we're the same. Deny it all you want. You know it's the truth.

"All you need is love."

"Love is a battlefield."

"Where is the love?"

"Love is the thing, you know."

The one thing the whole world shares in common - love. Love is the common denominator - the greatest common factor. Is this truly our purpose in the world, to find love? Is that why we were sent here, created, whatever you want to believe came to be the existence of human life. Because at the end of the day, everyone wants to go home to someone's open arms.

Insomnia, as usual.

2:20 AM and I can't sleep, which isn't much of a surprise anymore. It was only a matter of time until insomnia found me again. 

I have work tomorrow at 10AM and here I am sitting up, writing. I don't want to write. I do want to write, but not right now. But a true writer knows that when you have to write, you have to write, whether you want to or not. The writing takes on a life of its own, demanding to be written down. And disobey the writing and it abandons you. 

I've been trying to train myself to write once a day, no matter how long, no matter how much. You'd think it'd be easier, but there's never really much to write about. Sure I could ramble about my day or talk about the stress of living under this roof. I could write about my broken heart, or how this person makes me feel, or how they don't make me feel. I could write out mindless, senseless thoughts, but I ask, what purpose would it serve? Does getting these thoughts written down do anything for me? There would be no sense of accomplishment because what is it that I would have to be proud of!? That I can write down what I'm thinking? The entire world could do that. Mostly...

I think I'm avoiding what I really want to write about. I can be good at avoidance. Trained myself real well with that. The words are there in my head, I can see them floating around. But I won't let them get out. I pretend that I don't know what I'd do with them, but it's just a defense mechanism. Or is it? I don't know. 

There are flowers on my mattress. I haven't gotten around to putting the disgusing Dora the Explorer sheets back on it. I share a room with a six-year-old, spare me the laughter. It's funny, in the dark the designs don't even look like flowers. They look like claw marks. Something trying to escape the deadly mattress and it's springy evilness! Or maybe someone's trying to claw their way inside? Maybe it's me. Heh. 

Well this post accomplished the one thing I said I didn't want - nothing! But that's me, contradiction walking.