In the next world war
In a jackknifed juggernaut
I am born again
In the neon sign
Scrolling up and down
I am born again
In an interstellar burst
I am back to save the universe
In a deep deep sleep of the innocent
I am born again
In a fast german car
I'm amazed that I survived
An airbag saved my life
In an interstellar burst
I am back to save the universe
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Forever Fades Away
I don't feel the need to communicate so continuously with the online world.
When I started myspace at 14, it became a cycle of sexier photos and obscure delusions.
Not all bad, but a strong tidal wave pulled by so many opinions and online friends, it overcame me and teenagedom always became a struggle between cyberspace and reality.
I deactivated my facebook, and that is alright by me. I have been so much happier spending less time online. Instead i walk with headphones and feel the cool air on my face, or play with david and keats and know true happiness.
i dont need status updates and "likes" to know what i am doing works for me.
if you are really a friend, i know someday we will meet in person and i can tell you then. but so many people call themselves friends and lie, i dont need that.
arrivederci!
When I started myspace at 14, it became a cycle of sexier photos and obscure delusions.
Not all bad, but a strong tidal wave pulled by so many opinions and online friends, it overcame me and teenagedom always became a struggle between cyberspace and reality.
I deactivated my facebook, and that is alright by me. I have been so much happier spending less time online. Instead i walk with headphones and feel the cool air on my face, or play with david and keats and know true happiness.
i dont need status updates and "likes" to know what i am doing works for me.
if you are really a friend, i know someday we will meet in person and i can tell you then. but so many people call themselves friends and lie, i dont need that.
arrivederci!
Monday, September 21, 2009
You Won't See Me-
Well, I hope you won't if I don't want you to.
and that is the point if I block you.
in HS, having a post-ugly Duckling and a Swan complex, socializing was difficult.
I was a self-proclaimed Existential at 14;
I poo-poo'ed Shakespeare after his complete works took me two weeks.
not that it matters what i did, or how i did it, but my life is full of unique and personal accomplishments.
when my peers became rivals they soon tried to take from me fashion and personal materials that made me unique and desirable.
maybe it was the clothes or the trips or the boys or the look and talk that i have and always have they thought could make them as good as me.
i don't think I'm better than them,
I'm better at being Gina.
so don't pretend you know me if you don't.
don't say you believe the same religion as i did as a creative outlet.
don't buy the same clothes, or talk the same, or type the same.
don't fuck the guys i've been with just to get near me, or to get back at me.
don't cut your hair like mine, or style yourself like me.
don't assume you are worth more in people's lives than you are.
don't think i hate you or care about you or want to see you,
all you are is a demon.jpg haunting lives like a shadow picking up trash and calling it lost treasure.
everything is past and you are free,
life is to live and love
and anything and everything.
i don't care who you are or what you do just as long as my life is the same as it was today, and yesterday and last week, and that it goes on happy and un-tormented like the universe will allow.
did you hear me? you are free! go now, live for yourself! be who you want regardless of what ghosts echo.
and that is the point if I block you.
in HS, having a post-ugly Duckling and a Swan complex, socializing was difficult.
I was a self-proclaimed Existential at 14;
I poo-poo'ed Shakespeare after his complete works took me two weeks.
not that it matters what i did, or how i did it, but my life is full of unique and personal accomplishments.
when my peers became rivals they soon tried to take from me fashion and personal materials that made me unique and desirable.
maybe it was the clothes or the trips or the boys or the look and talk that i have and always have they thought could make them as good as me.
i don't think I'm better than them,
I'm better at being Gina.
so don't pretend you know me if you don't.
don't say you believe the same religion as i did as a creative outlet.
don't buy the same clothes, or talk the same, or type the same.
don't fuck the guys i've been with just to get near me, or to get back at me.
don't cut your hair like mine, or style yourself like me.
don't assume you are worth more in people's lives than you are.
don't think i hate you or care about you or want to see you,
all you are is a demon.jpg haunting lives like a shadow picking up trash and calling it lost treasure.
everything is past and you are free,
life is to live and love
and anything and everything.
i don't care who you are or what you do just as long as my life is the same as it was today, and yesterday and last week, and that it goes on happy and un-tormented like the universe will allow.
did you hear me? you are free! go now, live for yourself! be who you want regardless of what ghosts echo.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
the worst place to razor in cold weather is your palms-
but it's probably the best place to get caught.
Cutting wasn't about bleeding, or the pain or the control.
this sick ritual I initiated myself to reality with, was purely
masochistic, scarring apple-white flesh with my trusty Bic.
i was so pretty and fresh; youth and innocence radiated from
huge dark green porous eyes. I was so much fun to destroy;
looking back.
Somehow
my beautiful virgin frame
bent and strained-
this stress-test a
cauterized amputation
of my youth
& physical innocence.
Somehow
i took it,
and as my calves and knees and thighs
amassed longer & deeper thrashes
of my sparkling edge.
my right arm became a scoreboard
how many times i wasn't worth
hurting anything but myself-
In my bathtub, dry and naked,
pale and emaciated;
quivering with self-loathing-
(i always watched) as the imaginary line
on my thigh began to sting as red drops
quickly streaming, still warm from life.
The bathroom was always glowing,
freshly white, so standing there,
a bony lonely beauty, naked.
Dripping fresh blood over
crusted cuts - i grimaced-
for my infinite fractal reflection
satisfied me, a wild eyed beauty;
a self-destroyer.
That Lexapro-drugged, misunderstood 15 year old girl
haunts me less now, realizing how strong I am, and have
always been does feel like bleeding clots from a severed artery,
hell-bent on living and doing triage on it's systems.
I shut down and couldn't feel, after my gray-matter
disintegrated from blood loss after a bleeding heart.
the then-unfamiliar numbness set in,
and just to make sure, the naive invincibility of youth
rescued me from overshadowing feelings of morality.
By my sweet 16, no longer pure but still beautiful,
I was the last rose petal on the vine, bracing for a
cold lonely winter of depression , anxiety & recklessness.
It is only now, with David
that true, delightful emotions return,
and the true youth so severed from sensitivity and respect begins to feel a phantom limb of youth returning finally-
the pain of amputation and blind confusion of loss bleed thickly from tender veins,
but the shedding of self-hate and unworthiness from my blood lightens my load exponentially. It's the slow grinding beginning of cogs, blinking away darkness past
that fuels my rebirth into deliciously familiar flesh.
but it's probably the best place to get caught.
Cutting wasn't about bleeding, or the pain or the control.
this sick ritual I initiated myself to reality with, was purely
masochistic, scarring apple-white flesh with my trusty Bic.
i was so pretty and fresh; youth and innocence radiated from
huge dark green porous eyes. I was so much fun to destroy;
looking back.
Somehow
my beautiful virgin frame
bent and strained-
this stress-test a
cauterized amputation
of my youth
& physical innocence.
Somehow
i took it,
and as my calves and knees and thighs
amassed longer & deeper thrashes
of my sparkling edge.
my right arm became a scoreboard
how many times i wasn't worth
hurting anything but myself-
In my bathtub, dry and naked,
pale and emaciated;
quivering with self-loathing-
(i always watched) as the imaginary line
on my thigh began to sting as red drops
quickly streaming, still warm from life.
The bathroom was always glowing,
freshly white, so standing there,
a bony lonely beauty, naked.
Dripping fresh blood over
crusted cuts - i grimaced-
for my infinite fractal reflection
satisfied me, a wild eyed beauty;
a self-destroyer.
That Lexapro-drugged, misunderstood 15 year old girl
haunts me less now, realizing how strong I am, and have
always been does feel like bleeding clots from a severed artery,
hell-bent on living and doing triage on it's systems.
I shut down and couldn't feel, after my gray-matter
disintegrated from blood loss after a bleeding heart.
the then-unfamiliar numbness set in,
and just to make sure, the naive invincibility of youth
rescued me from overshadowing feelings of morality.
By my sweet 16, no longer pure but still beautiful,
I was the last rose petal on the vine, bracing for a
cold lonely winter of depression , anxiety & recklessness.
It is only now, with David
that true, delightful emotions return,
and the true youth so severed from sensitivity and respect begins to feel a phantom limb of youth returning finally-
the pain of amputation and blind confusion of loss bleed thickly from tender veins,
but the shedding of self-hate and unworthiness from my blood lightens my load exponentially. It's the slow grinding beginning of cogs, blinking away darkness past
that fuels my rebirth into deliciously familiar flesh.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Sometimes i have mornings so beautiful i can't breathe;
nights so terrible i doubt humanity has a sunrise.
Music vibrates me; microwaving a pulse into my soul like shock paddles.
(it's not the voice, the reason behind the voice, or what the voice wears.)
Voices resonate my soul, language beyond definition.
However, the moments that make me feel ALIVE
are endorphin rushes, adrenal beating heart quivering with life & anticipation.
its a rush of blood to the head, a sudden blue-iris pupil dilation, spreading bodily warmth.
like the moment i fell in love with him, forever. indescribably binding & perfect.
logic will break your heart if you define it, life will destroy you if you let it.
i make my own way; destroying, rebuilding, living, loving, dying.
Needing outsiders less and less; retreating to a secret garden of love and joy.
I am and will be destroyed by myself alone.
No one shall take from me myself, for that is all i have.
nights so terrible i doubt humanity has a sunrise.
Music vibrates me; microwaving a pulse into my soul like shock paddles.
(it's not the voice, the reason behind the voice, or what the voice wears.)
Voices resonate my soul, language beyond definition.
However, the moments that make me feel ALIVE
are endorphin rushes, adrenal beating heart quivering with life & anticipation.
its a rush of blood to the head, a sudden blue-iris pupil dilation, spreading bodily warmth.
like the moment i fell in love with him, forever. indescribably binding & perfect.
logic will break your heart if you define it, life will destroy you if you let it.
i make my own way; destroying, rebuilding, living, loving, dying.
Needing outsiders less and less; retreating to a secret garden of love and joy.
I am and will be destroyed by myself alone.
No one shall take from me myself, for that is all i have.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
ACTIVISM
The Change is upon us. We humans are approaching stage critical. Every Earth species faces extinction eventually, our time is now. My nose bleeds from the air; I'm 20 and my body already faces more environmental, psychological and cultural threats than ANY humans and animals before me, but not as much that my peers and younger face in other places Earth-wide.
It is not public option health care we young care about. Every day I feel like I am dying but not because I'm facing bureaucratic health care. The air is changing, we are fading, struggling to exist amongst decay and filth.
We need to stop tapping the veins of our Mother Earth of oil and coal, wood, water and meat. It is obvious we have exceeded Mass Capacity of our home. She is killing us off; first with birds, then with pigs. We already fight amongst ourselves, chopping each others limbs and heads off; blowing each other up and violating sacred human and animal rights.
The things we do to the weaker because we want to be stronger is saddening and sickening, not empowering.
We bicker and bitch, bully and brutalize, but for what cause? Road rage, alcoholic beverages, sex, cocaine-laden paper? Is that more important than clean air, respect, life and happiness?
FIGHT FOR WHAT MATTERS; NOT WHAT MAKES MONEY
It is not public option health care we young care about. Every day I feel like I am dying but not because I'm facing bureaucratic health care. The air is changing, we are fading, struggling to exist amongst decay and filth.
We need to stop tapping the veins of our Mother Earth of oil and coal, wood, water and meat. It is obvious we have exceeded Mass Capacity of our home. She is killing us off; first with birds, then with pigs. We already fight amongst ourselves, chopping each others limbs and heads off; blowing each other up and violating sacred human and animal rights.
The things we do to the weaker because we want to be stronger is saddening and sickening, not empowering.
We bicker and bitch, bully and brutalize, but for what cause? Road rage, alcoholic beverages, sex, cocaine-laden paper? Is that more important than clean air, respect, life and happiness?
FIGHT FOR WHAT MATTERS; NOT WHAT MAKES MONEY
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