Never Coming, Never Going

I am never coming back -- there is nothing calling me, nothing drawing me in, nothing. It was never a home but a house filled with strangers and I was nothing more than a transient waiting for the moment I could move on and away and anyway if home is where the heart is then I'm still searching, I'm still looking for my heart. Blood is not thicker than water and it is all now just water under the bridge and you can take your words and your thoughts and just toss them into that stream and forget about me as surely as I will forget about you -- I am never going back.

I Am Done With This Summer

I am done with this summer, I am done with this heat. I am done with stepping outside my door and choking on the humidity. It only makes me feel bitter and disgusted and indolent.

I am done with this summer, I am ready for the fall. I am ready for the boots and the scarves, the hot chocolates and the teas, the colorful leaves and the bristly winds. I am ready for the falling rain to come and wash away this disturbed, depressed, discomforted feeling I cannot shake, to come and make me new. I become alive with the cold and I am ready for it to stir me from this waking dream, which has become more and more of a nightmare.

I am done with this summer, I am anxiously awaiting the change. For the colors to fill the trees, for the clouds to fill the skies, for the cold season's joy to fill my heart.

I am done with this summer.

The Day Your Dog Dies

You repeat to yourself - she's just a symbol. She's just a dog. Don't repeat this too many times, before you realize tears will be running down your cheeks to form tiny pools in the cracks in your palms.

The Day Your Dog Dies | Thought Catalog

RIP Max, RIP Jack. 

I Want to Inspire You

I want to inspire you. I wouldn't go so far as to say that I want to be your muse, I just want to stir something in you. I want you to feel passion, to feel energy roaming through you, pushing you towards something. I want to be the cause behind a poem, a story, an act, a dream. It doesn't have to be grand, it doesn't have to be all that memorable. It doesn't matter whether our lives are intertwined for years or if they simply intersect for a moment, and then bounce off one another. It doesn't matter whether you love me or feel nothing but indifference towards me. It doesn't matter, the details don't matter. I just want to inspire you.

Brief Interviews With Indecisive People

“Why can’t I just tell him, hey, I’m going through a thing. Sorry if I’m being a crazy butthead right now?”

“You can’t just tell a guy that,” she says.

“Why not? Why am I supposed to just play this game where I act normal when I don’t feel normal? Why can’t I just be honest with him? Why don’t people do that? I feel like we’d all understand each other better if we did that.”

“You can’t just tell a guy you’re crazy.”

“….Fine. I won’t.”

------

“It’s so doomed,” I tell him about us (the new “us”) over dinner. “But it’s happening anyway.”

“Well.” He laughs. “You kind of just described life,” he says.

------

I cry a little bit to myself while standing on the subway platform waiting for the L to take me from Brooklyn to Manhattan. My phone doesn’t have service so I type in a bunch of text messages to you that I’ll never hit “send” on.

On the phone with you, I also cry. You don’t know I’m crying. I tell you about another time when I cried and you didn’t know, when we’d ended an email correspondence — an innocuous one —and I’d cried myself to sleep for no reason I can figure out.

Even when I’m happy with you, I want to cry.

Brief Interviews With Indecisive People | Thought Catalog

Humanity pt. III

People are killed for money, power, and just the hell of it. Children are battered and abused and betrayed by the very ones that are meant to protect them. Young girls are sold because there are men who are willing to pay for them. The color of one's skin still determines how they are treated and what opportunities they are given. Society always finds someone to discriminate against. Comedians find rape jokes amusing and the audience finds them entertaining. Girls are taught from the youngest age that they are not good enough. Animals are tortured for amusement. Money is the highest being to be worshiped. Women are told they are not accomplished until they become a wife and a mother. Politicians care more about winning elections than making a change. The Earth is being destroyed. One in three women are sexually abused because society teaches "don't get raped" instead of "don't rape." Arrogance, greed, lust for money and power, pride, self-love, vanity prevail.

There is no hope.

Humanity pt. II

Humanity is disgusting. We think ourselves to be so civilized and advanced and intelligent but we are none of the above; we are barbaric and hateful and stupid, and apparently doomed to continually repeating the mistakes of our past. (If you are not on a similar level of despair, watch the movie Crash. By the time it's over, the only thing you will want to do is weep for the human race.)

I have a decent life. I'm fortunate enough to have a home to live in (a fairly nice one, at that), food to eat (such an abundance that I have the luxury of being picky and choosy), am able to get an education at an institution of my choosing (and study whatever "pointless" things I so choose) -- the list could go on. I have what I need, and much of what I want, but then I get to thinking too much, and I become filled with despair and frustration and indignation. Because when I look just past my immediate, rosy little bubble, I see the reality of the world: sex trafficking, rape, child abuse, racism, sexism, domestic violence, murder, homophobia, religious bigotry -- violent destruction with no end in sight.

The people of this world have been beaten and battered and abused, and the Earth along with them. Not only can we not take care of and protect each other, we can't even take care of this planet that sustains us. If we have made any progress as a species, it is minuscule.

Humanity is disgusting.

Humanity

Humanity is disgusting. People are bigoted, destructive, asinine fools. I hate everything.

Let's Take a Train Ride to Anywhere

Let's take a train ride to anywhere and when we get there we won't know where we are and we won't care. We'll find a coffee café and drink some espressos and lounge in the chairs outside, and maybe have a cigarette. We'll converse for a while and then sit quietly because we don't need words to fill the spaces between us and we'll just breathe in the moment and then breathe it out. I'll smile at you and you'll wink back and then we'll have a laugh, realizing that several hours have passed and it's time to be on our way. We'll get back on that train and maybe doze a little bit to the rhythmic turnings of the wheels on the tracks and when we finally arrive, we'll collapse on the couch and dream of future train rides, together and apart.

If I Knew Where I Was Going

If I knew where I was going, I’d stop reading maps like they hold some special secret. I’d realize that they guide people toward a destination and not just away from themselves and I’d stop blaming physical boundaries and distance for all of my problems. I’d accept that the reason I always feel stuck is because I’m too afraid to cross the rivers and mountains that I’ve built up between myself and the people around me, between my actions and my ambitions, my muscles and my mind.

If I Knew Where I Was Going | Thought Catalog

Unconditional Love

Unconditional love is a puppy (whether it is two months or twelve years old). When they let you blow in their face or take their paws to make them dance or mummy wrap them in blankets or pull on their ears, without so much as a snip or a bark; when you leave them for hours or days or months at a time and every time you come back, they're just as happy to see you; when you neglect them and forget to take them on a walk, but they don't have the capacity to hold a grudge; when they follow all your ridiculous commands and put up with your teasing just to get a treat and give you kisses just as soon as your face is in reach - that's love. Unconditional love is man's best friend.

Going Home, Away From Home

You’ve done this before, of course, many a time switching back and forth between lives, always leaving something behind as you embrace the new old. A balance would be ideal, but like a straight line or an arrow, your starting point rarely matches your target. So which life is the real one? Who are you? Where is home? Are you the person you left behind, or the person you’re going back to? And if both those Yous should ever meet, will the two different sides of that equation equal who you are now? Or has one side won out?

Going Home, Away From Home | Thought Catalog