Dreaming in a Dream's Blurty
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Below are the 5 most recent journal entries recorded in Dreaming in a Dream's Blurty:

    Saturday, February 23rd, 2008
    12:18 am
    Screaming, all the screaming. Cries for help pierced the night. Alone, all alone. No one heard her cry out. Family, friends walked past her without recognition. Her tears boiled from the flames licking at her flesh. She cant breathe. The water filling her lungs to maximum capacity . Muscles ache as she flails her arms, sad attempts at staying above the water. Waves crashing, still alone, giant hands pulling her down earnestly into the puzzles of the unknown. Surrender to the icy hands gripped around her body. Peace, Relax, Calm. Shattered glass, everywhere, almost like sparkling diamonds sewn into her skin, warm, sinewy blood flowing from her pores. Sounds, voices, feel their hands. Gentle touch, offer help. End the pain she feels, she breathes. Eyes, sad, why are their eyes so sad. Drip, drop, drip, drop. Is it raining? No im inside. Open my eyes. Tears, warm salty tears. Why are you crying? Answer me, don’t you hear me? Stop ignoring me. The games over, I get it. Just stop crying. She looks at the head of the room. Acknowledgement. Someone passed away. She feels relief. Understanding. Its her. It made sense. She walks up to the casket. Nothing there. It wasn’t her. It made sense though. No one can hear her, see her. It just had to be but wasn’t. Its like she was invisible, dead and alive at the same time. Invisible.

    Current Mood: creative
    Tuesday, January 1st, 2008
    11:19 pm

    Current Mood: annoyed
    Wednesday, December 19th, 2007
    3:56 pm
    These corridors are my emptiness, long and ever winding
    Running through them, endlessly, searching but never finding
    I’m hiding somewhere you’ll never see, under skirts and lies
    The wind whistling through the halls, those are your goodbyes
    The sound of the doors slamming; the sound of my screams
    The pictures in those silver frames, they are my dreams
    The rain pounding against the windows, those are my eyes
    The curtains are closed, the blinds are shut, whenever a window cries
    The carpet is my skin, stained red, black and blue
    The walls towering, surrounding, closing in, the walls; they are you
    The wallpaper is ripping off, I now see underneath
    The broken bottles on the floor, my broken belief
    The bed, so cold and empty now, the bed it is my heart
    Trust, the sheets upon the bed, shredded, torn apart
    The lights, they are my happiness, they don’t work anymore
    Your love is cruel, your love is cold, your love is the closed door
    My dependence on you, that is the broken chair
    The table, the knives the forks, the plates, the life we used to share
    The rubbish spilling from the bin, the rubbish, that is me
    All over, toys and relics, from a broken family
    The mirror is my self worth, my reflection isn’t there
    Lipstick hearts drawn on it; you pretending that you care
    Home is where the hurt is, this house was built of pain
    I leave, but I find myself coming home, over and over again.

    Current Mood: sad
    Monday, December 10th, 2007
    5:49 pm
    I wrote this for Creative Writing and its getting published.
    What’s this ache in my chest? Not in the center but just off to the left side a bit. Those pills I take, first one then two, followed by water, they don’t do anything to dissolve the pain. I lay my hand over the source, and I feel it move beneath me, beating beneath an unbreakable barrier, like a drum kidnapped from its drummer. Sometimes steady, almost confident it will survive, or is it so soft and faint its giving up, other times it’s pulsating against the walls like a foolish man trying to free himself from a cell. I don’t know. Its happy to. It doesn’t always feel heavy and hurtful. Doesn’t always bring tears of pain to my eyes. Smiles. Laughter. It does those to. I should know. I felt it. Once. Long ago. Couldn’t have been that long. Count. 1,2,3,5 years. More? Possibly. I don’t remember the last time I really ever felt joy there. There’s these little glimpses, of just maybe what could be happiness. Little flickers of light in a darkened room. They never last, this gray cloud seems to follow me, letting its juices surge like blood from a slice of flesh onto the flame before it even gets an opportunity to ignite. Damn that grey cloud, it will be the death of me someday. Someday, everyone has a someday. Someday I’ll be rich, someday I’ll have my dream car, my dream house. Ya, someday world hunger will end and war will cease to exist. Someday, never today or tomorrow. Just someday. I have a some day. Some day, I’ll find a way to repair the mirror, repair the annoying drum inside my bothersome barrier. Someday I’ll feel. Ecstasy, bliss, Laughter. Yeah, some day love will treat me right, some day that dull ache will become a distant faded memory. Some day I wont pop these pills anymore. Open mouth, swallow 5 now 6.Someday this will kill me, if I don’t kill it first. Someday.
    Friday, November 23rd, 2007
    4:22 pm
    First Entry

    Current Mood: stressed
    Current Music: christmas musiccccc
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