"Everything you want can be summed up in these words..."

As much as I love seeing my friends' band Ghost Mall play shows, when they play the song that was written about me, I don't like that everyone sings it to me.

Sounds silly, I know.
But it would be a nice feeling, if it weren't:

"Everyone you know is worried for your life
They say, 'Emily please take my advice.'"

Am I the only one that isn't worried for me?
It's probably how it's supposed to go.
You're always the last one to worry.

"Together we'll dance in the dark."

My life is a treadmill.
Or a moving sidewalk.
But at least with a moving sidewalk, there is some progress.
I feel out of breath & tired all of the time, but I'm still in the same fucking place I started.
Still in the same fucking place I've been for years.

Why is it that no matter how hard I try, I'm still stuck?

"Jane, get me off this crazy thing!" - George Jetson

Time to throw this piece of shit to the curb, with the rest of the unwanted home gym machines of the world.

"The script it called for rain, but it was clear that day, so we faked it"

Am I the only one that gets choked up about the LGBT community?
Every time I read an article or see something in the media about repression and intolerance, I get emotional.

I describe myself as a queer individual because I do believe in loving a person for their spirit and not their genitals or what society says their gender is.

I also believe that love knows no gender, social class, religion or race.

That's something I wish for everyone to believe.
That's a lesson I will teach my children and a lesson I hope my children will pass on as well.

"She's got herself a universe gone quickly, for the call of thunder threatens everyone"

As I filled out more work applications in the library, a guy I had met the night before at a campus program came up to me to say "hello."
I admitted that I had a crush on one of his male friends and he revealed that he had a crush on the same friend.

He started talking about the video "Sassy Gay Friend" and volunteered to be mine.

This turned into a discussion about Shakespeare and Romeo & Juliet and how terribly horrible their "love" really was.

Our whispers became exclamations as we spoke about teenagers and their need to be defiant. The "star-crossed lovers" found a commonality in their awful, privileged lives and lusted after one another. But woe is them, they couldn't have each other.
With melodrama dripping from the teens' pathetic words and promises, death is obviously the option.

We laughed a lot about repressed gay men in almost everyone of Shakespeare's plays, and even talked about how love is perceived to everyone. Every person has a different perception of reality, so their perception and definition of love is relative.

I mentioned how I believe that no relationship can truly be emotionally balanced because of this. Someone will always love harder. The only way to come close to a balanced and equal relationship is to compromise.

Strangely enough, later that night I attended a Sex Ed program sponsored by my campus' Black Student Union. A sex therapist spoke about the specific kinds of love (eros, agape, storge) and how everyone's view of lust, love, intimacy and romance are different.

I'm not sure why, but it all struck an emotional chord buried deep and I tried to not cry. It might've been because I started thinking about how much I love someone and how I feel I'll never be rid of the lingering "what if"s about our up, down & sideways relationship.

From this view point, I'm hoping to wake up one day when a sassy gay friend says, "You are a stupid bitch,"

"Having every question answered isn't gonna help at all."

I'm very afraid for the future.
The internet age has spoiled and warped children.
They can pretend to be whoever they want and hide behind computers.
They can harass other children from a safe distance.
They can teach themselves and experiment with each other.

I'm afraid for my hypothetical children.
I'm afraid of what I'll have to do to protect them from other people and, well, the world.

In a month I'll be 23 years old. Scary.
It's extra scary when you know someone your age who is going to be a mother, and several people who are already married.

Am I falling behind?
Or am I just right on time?

Either way, I fear for children's future.

"Brick by Boring Brick"

Haunting Bubble Dreams

You sing to me, I hear you tell me that I told you, my heart is dead.
Are my pumping ventricles not proof enough for you?
I push air through the wand, bury myself, unsafe in your fragile soap circles.
Did I know you in a dream?
I watch as you float past.
Where’d you go?
An empty vessel, I’m trying to understand.
What does it feel like, being transparent?
Worry lines on a bubble’s ghost can never be seen.
Baby, I’m just as worried,
Just as worried as you float on and write about me.

FTL: January 4, 2010

My baby sister looked at me, said, “I want to die.”
Those eyes that had looked at me with such life, such adoration, are stained in heartbreak and disappointment
Those lips that ate my cherry lip balm and crayons now let pills and vodka pass through
My mom, she blames herself for “diseasing” her daughters
My dad, he feels he should have been there to stop the monster
I didn’t mean to put the idea in her head back one year, two months, 13 days, seven hours ago
in a hospital wearing an itchy gown that rubbed up against my bare skin
I’m sorry momma, for failing as an older sister
I’m sorry dad, for not teaching her how to be safe
I eat my pills daily, the same pills that she eats now, and we are bonded
Medication management
Post traumatic stress disorder
Bi-polar disorder
Major depression
Sooner or later we won’t need pills & diagnosing to bond

Ticking Time Bomb

You found me hidden under the floorboards
My wires are crossed & connected poorly
They twisted my insides up
Time is running out
Make your decision, handle it carefully
But don’t touch me like you love me
The pin that holds me together
It might fall out

Wifey

I have this toy
I play with him when I am lonely
I play house with him
I make him dinner & drink tea while I wait for the cookies to bake
And I kiss him lightly on the lips & he smiles at me

I have this toy
I play with him when I am lonely
I play house with him
When I miss you

It’s not me that you love.

I make myself a luxury hotel for meaningless men to sleep in
Because the meaningful will not move in & make me his home

I am loved.

I wish I could wrap myself in this feeling forever.
Like a blanket.
And never have to feel the cold.

Sometimes

I feel like the world is pushing
Pushing
Down
And it gets harder
For me
to breathe
I
gasp
and savor the air
But the world keeps
Pushing
Pushing

Maximum Frustration

Under my mattress is a broken piece of wood
We broke it in half with our weight
You pushed me out of your life
So I wished I never met you
And I shoveled a path through the bullshit you left
But the wood support is a splintered reminder
Of when I was grateful I met you
Still, I wish we could break seven more

"I'll never sing of love, if it does not exist."

I'm not sure exactly why I'm sitting here.
Why I'm wasting my time typing this instead of paying attention.
But I know I'm not anywhere near the person I want to be.


I wonder why people like me.
I wonder how I've been this fortunate for so long.
If I knew me, I wouldn't like me.

If I could accept myself, I think I'd be happier.
And maybe even be able to commit to romantic relationship.


My mind is everywhere but where it should be lately.
I suppose that's the most frustrating part of my life at the moment.

I'm crushing on a girl for the first time ever.

The loop bus seems like it could be fun to just ride all day long.

I'm a text-mistress.
Sext messaging a boy that has a girlfriend.

The boy I want is after his English professor.
She's reciprocating, and I'm here. Stuck.
Adds to the ridiculous unfortunate situations that make up my life.

Self destruct button is where again?

"You and me and the bottle make three... this bottle's gonna take us both to an early grave... let me be your swear word."