Forteen point Five

Hours, until married life.

Only overriding factor: i do not float on air aka. i feel, see, touch and TASTE fat. Thin, why must you be so hard to achieve?!

Articulate

gone are the flashing epileptic blur of electrical-made colour and the lying on the hardwood floors while the branches of the Christmas tree leaves scratches on my face and the rain storming down when you want to go swimming and listening to conversations of old people being racist (could have just been the result of intoxication) and playing long long games of articulate and then meeting people who have been bashed up by wankers who have nothing better to do. yep, the bullies tried to have a go with us too. i had spots of blood on a white dress. despite it all, i love Christmas.

but now the craziness begins. when we all thought it was over- it starts now. wedding shoes today and too much weight to lose.

and my head is all, hellogoodbyehellogoodbyehellogoodbye. like the Beatles express it. 

Madness

it's all coming back to me now, waves of familiarity wash over me. it could have been a long forgotten memory, or an echo in the distance- but the sounds and the colours and everything that was... i can almost touch it, i can almost taste it. and i go back and forth, between parallels of black and white. like Sylvia Plath said "i have the choice of being constantly active and happy or introspectively passive and sad. Or i can go mad by ricocheting in between."

up and down, the seesaw goes. passive. "i want to rip out your throat". hilarity. like i'm bipolar. which i'm not.  i want control. i want it i want it i want it. 

and i want it to stop. stop blaming me for things that i didn't do. stop restricting me, or i will restrict myself. i swear, i will not put that calorie-laden-spoon in my mouth, if you tell me what to do. and you, where are you?! oh, just leave me be. don't wake up, i'll just walk to the hospital instead. 

has anyone ever told me i'm crazy? no. 

To the Future

And in that Storm that lit up the sky at two am, i laid there in contemplation of what is to come.


And i thought about how my years are too young to get married on the fourteenth of January two-thousand-and-twelve. But it is going to happen, because my heart will be old enough then. And i thought superficial thoughts, like how my dress makes me look like i'm about to give birth to a whale, but those are the consuming thoughts. i thought about how it would be, to be a wife who belongs to a twisted world and who has immense difficulty seeing true beauty except for what is considered to be perfection and who struggles with control because she has "daddy" issues........(and sometimes overwhelming feelings of dislike and anger take over- i'm conflicted, i want to hate him for not bothering to fly across the country to see his eldest daughter get married but to come up with fake stories instead, but it saddens me, but what did i expect? It's unfair to expect this much of him).


So what if it's selfish to drag another person into this mess? At least i don't have to go through it alone. Anything, but the dark and loneliness and abandonment again.

A Former Life

time has lapsed and in some ways, nothing has changed. i'm still not where i want to be, still yearning and still longing. still full of hopes and dreams, but nothing achieved. 

this is my hope; i hope that this time, i'll be alright.