amongst white rabbits,

as i sit on my sofa bed, aimlessly skimming through my new book, i begin to ponder.
as usual, i ponder for at least 10 minutes about absolutely nothing at all.
much like staring blankly at a plain white canvas.
sometimes i actually do stare and its very embarrassing when I'm around people.
because i never know when this time of forced thought will occur, on occasion this happens.
after this time period of concentrating on nothing, something will start to appear.
a thought or idea will begin to paint itself.
and this is where my true thought process begins.
tonight, like most other nights, this happened to me.
and the subject of thought was simply: me.
it is said that the way you walk determines alot about how you are.
some people walk slow, looking at there shoes. others walk swiftly, staring the world straight in the face.
and some are like me. walking fast, making many small steps, staring at the floor.
this fact had never struck me as odd until just now.
and now it bothers me.
it only adds the big question of "who am i?" or rather "what do i want?"
the more i sit and examine my walk and its meaning, i begin to realize more things.
the reason i stare at the floor is because i don't like to look at people when i walk.
i hate making eye contact, and always feel awkward when i see someone i know to just say 'hi'.
so to avoid this, i don't look at any ones faces.
this in turn makes me feel more awkward because i don't know who's looking at me.
and that's where walking fast comes in.
the sooner i make it to class, the sooner i will be away from this situation of insecurity.
Which raises the next question, "why am i insecure?"
this i am still trying to figure out.
i know that i am nice to the people i meet, a likable person to people who don't know me well, and loved by the people who do know me.
I'm not trying to be narcissistic, that's just kind of how it is. and i know this.
so why do i second guess that fact?
i also know i crave attention.
nothing thrills me more than for all eyes and ears to be on me. to have people stop what they are doing to listen to what i have to say.
sometimes you can find me as the girl who laughs and talks loudly with a circle of other kids.
always smiling, always with someone on her arm.
and then there is the other part of me that is shy.
reserved. who would rather watch from the side lines.
be behind the camera than actually be on it.
these two parts are both inside me.
and they both loath the other.
because of this i am always in a constant state of confusion.
i never know exactly what to do, and this makes me awkward.
this makes me insecure, and makes me stare at the floor when i walk.
this makes me ask the questions:
"who am i?"
"what do i want?"

young love,

...And all that was left of our triumphs was the artful array of beer cans and cigarette buds. Our hearts, souls, and voices let out to fly only to fall like the ashes of your last cigarette. cold and disregarded. in turn leaving us empty, only craving more...

wrote this out of pure randomness saturday night.
inspired by the forgotten trash of macons teenage generation.
georgias finest.

it felt better that night.

Modest Touch,

Beautiful
<3

Red,

new noise.
i guess maybe thats only my own head but this one feels moonlit. the way things are different as they pass in the dark. the way we can be ourselves after dark. love, the stagecoach always turns back into a pumpkin. sometimes love is about getting even. but sometimes it is about how you are the sun and nothing can shine quite as bright as you. nothing is the same at 6 am. somehow the things we say mean more in corners of dancefloors and we focus on love below the waist and outside of the head. "dont you want to get better"- i just dont want you to worry. "dont you want to get better" - tonight i do. the way they say "youre committing slow suicide" when someone lights up or cuts loose. but arent we all. everything we do just shortens our life, every breath is one less. but its what makes everything so treasured. in my head. it aint a funeral babe, i just want the headline to die. recovery is the new drug. in your average week my head lays on so many different pillows. this windowshopped life has me dreaming of a reset button. daylight is your enemy. im in love with lovers who dont love me except under the pale light of the moon. im sleeping in my driveway tonight dreaming of sleeping in snow or gravel or whatever is next to you.... thank god, disappointment has a short shelf life. i want to buy some sleep but over the counter doesnt cut it whether it be hearts or capsules. i love you in a holding back your hair kind of way. wreck it all, one heart at a time. sleepovers are as good as they were 5 years ago. hollywood is a good story. but best friends are better.
sing into a polygraph. its not all its cracked up to be.