one private room

how is it that we compartmentalize:
love from lust?
idealism from rational thought?
spontineity from subconsious planning?
ritual from love?

you know a person incredibly well.
- - have known for 4 1/2 years.
and they have known you for equally as long
your there for eachother through the toughest parts of growing up

[ a factor that some psychologists say is the very thing that makes first love so hard to walk away from ]

but he is not your first love
not any "love" as far as your concerned.

however, when every time you see him, you share intimit moments
- -and they undoubtbly have a driving/passionate force behind them - -
is it lust?
no

its searching. its an atempt to renue your faith in the beliefe that you can trust someone again,
that somewhere out there there is someone you will feel comfortable with, who will know you so well that these things are natural.

we are catalysits to eachother.
we renue faith the we all to often lose in other people.
we help eachother realize what we want.what we've lost. what we still need to find.

to know that you can be that close to someone emotionaly and physically and not get hurt because you both need eachother, because its been happening for almost two years, and you know it's something dependable and won't end until you are both ready for it to.

- - its a skeleton of love i guess.
yes, thats what it is...its a prayer that we can find something to fulfill us.
and all the feeling is there...but there is a key missing. the key that gets you to "love."
you remind eachother what you deserve. what you are looking for.
catalists.

that is one emotional compartment.
its seperate from everything because there is nothing else in your life like it.

so how can this first person co-exsist with one that you know you are "in love" with?
you never said the one you were in love with was any of the things you wanted.
love is a feeling you can't shake, not even if it goes against every priniciple you've harbored your whole exsistance.
doesn't mean its a healthy, or rational.
but part of you wants it more than anything. the other part is disgusted by your weakness toward this other person.

its another compartment: "i love him but he wont change and i need more than he is brave enough to give me"
its not even falling out of love - - though for a long time i tried to believe it was - - its just a fact. love is something you have to accept before you can fit it into your life, your way of thinking.
just because you "love" does not mean you have to throw yourself into one person, no matter how degrading, because you are "following your heart."
love - - i have found - - does not have to shackel you to a person.
you have to know yourself.

you have to realize that when you compartmentalize like this...walls will go up to form these metephorical compartments
- -love is love. its there, you want it, its ripped away from you and evntually you accept it.

just because you accept it does not mean it goes away.
- - it took me a long time to grasp that too.

love is an ideal thought, to protect ourselves we have to seperate it from rational thinking. if you try to rationalize these things it will rip you apart... give you a headache.

its walls. its compartments. its seperations.

the one i still struggle with is seperating ritual from forming love.
i've said this before and i'll state it again because i still can't quite wrap my mind around it:

if love is, at its core, the longing for routine, for ritual,
(for your heart to be lulled into a save haven of unbroken patterns)
then why is not ritual a longing for love?

its a fine line. ritual lulls you into false security.
perfect example?
contact with another human being every day for an extended period of time, say since the day you met, you learn to depend on that phone call (or visit), you learn the anticipate it. soon it helps you through the day. eventually you want it. then you need it. then you realize -- maybe i love it? or better yet want to love it?

you open up. you trust. you laugh. you share. you become close. its a natural progression.
and maybe its just that people don't realize how dangerous ritual is.

i don't know how to seperate those yet, ritual from love. maybe it comes with time.
...but should it?

should things have to be seperated in order to keep yourself safe?

i don't think so. i don't want to think so.


-˜-to defuse any indiscrepancy you think i may have made- - what with going on about ritual just now and in the begining describing a pattern that is everything but love...it may apear that i contradict myself.
i think that the begining situation is an evolution of closeness. its a subconious hope and yearning that grabs ahold of two people. the thing is it's not a ritual because it is never planned. sure it happens most everytime but that is not the intent. there are long talks and tears and screaming and then comforting. its not planned because, due to proximity and time, it does not happen alot but when it does it stands out in ones mind.

does that makes sense?
its not expected. not depended on. so it's not necessarily a ritual.
if it were to become expected and looked forward to and depended on - - then it would be a routine. a ritual. a pattern.

its all fine lines and walls.
it comes back to crossing lines and breaking down walls.


how cliche.

beauty in the breakdown

the past "molds" you.
- - molds as in shaping. as in a compsotion of materials to produce a solid and distinguishable product.

but what if to "mold" could also mean the deterioration, or natural decomposition of a material.
as if it were rotting a person from the inside out.

pesamistic i realize.
but depending on the host is it not possible that the past could be parasitic instead of nourishing?

its the deviding line between those who learn from their past and at some point retain memories, sepia toned, and stained with laughter and meaning,
and the people who live with ghosts, who spend their lives running...from themselves.

people, myself included -- i'm not denying it -- run from something, in this case the past to prove my point, because they know it will or has hurt them. one is compelled to run because they feel empty inside, because they are looking for spiritual sustinance, something to make them feel again, its a desire to stop the numbness.

so, we're running to feel. we are running from an internal hollowness.
maybe the key is that the hollowness really is internal. no amount of running will make it go away because as we run we just carry the hollowness with us.

the past, in our minds wether valid or no, is the cause of this hollowness. the past has not molded us. it has rotted us!

we end up running from no one but ourselves.
no one else has the answers you want. no one can make the nubness go away until you stop running.

- - and the quickes way to end the race against your past?
except it. learn from it. grow from it.

let it shape you not rot inside of you.

i think its that the past should be a catalyst to the person you are becoming -- who you want to be--not something that holds you back..chains you down.

i might be crazy but that makes alot of sense to me right now.

demolished--
a word that encompassed both destruction
and the sweetness of the crumble.

when the stars turn blue

i understand his need to fall off the face of the planet
for alittle while

but i didn't think it would be this hard
--for me.

i miss him in those gaps between phonecalls
because this is the first time there have been gaps.

it's almost like dr.jelk and mr.hyde
only the demons are figurative -- cognitive.

i guess part of me is really worried about him.
and part of me wants to know this side of him,
the person that comes out and takes him of the face of the planet.
(and away from me)

...does that make me selfish?

a portable prison

there are so many demons each of us has to fight.
it's impossible to know the thoughts, parasitic, that prety on any one mind.

its internal fires that are lit and exstinguished by the past. by change. by any amount of feelings.
the same sparks that make a person who they are at their core
are the same sparks that can destroy a person.
turn them inside out.



but you can see them -- from the outside -- you can see..hear..someone struggling.
why cant you help them?
--"save" them.

i always thought i could just read people well.
relate to them.
was just a generally compassionate person.
figured all this would(will) make me a great psychologist/advice columnist
and as true as that may be

turns out...

i have a saving complex.
who am i kidding? i knew that.
always have, actually.

i have an uncanny way of finding the people who need to be saved from themselves.
and i want so much to help. i want so much to give them faith in something again
to prove that not everyone will give up on them.
is that so bad?

a lesson i've learned:
you can't save someone who doesn't want to be
saved.

but i still try.
but.but.but.
there is always something more.

i want to save him from himself.
--just like before--
i don't think he wants to be saved...
no
...maybe he doesn't know he needs to be saved.

it's visiable, to me.
he will tear himself apart.

another thought:

funny, how you learn so much about yourself through other people.
i was so busy concetrating on anything but me that look:
i've learned so much about how i deal with demons, and ghosts, how the past has made me grow and jaded me, molded me, changed me.
direct conversations, where the person actually cares about what you say, scare me.
scared -- past tense -- it's better.
thanks to him.
and i hope that i am teaching him things.
you always hope you are giving something to the people around you.
something they will remember, maybe even thank you for....but thats not why you do it.
it's human nature, it's my nature.

i just want to bring him back to the world of the living.
make what ever he is fighting, what ever is haunting him, dissapear.

this comes as no suprise to you does it?
no.

Memories are films about Ghosts

i feel like my writing -- if i continue to write in the same vein that i have been -- will become redundant.

i despise that.
the constant circles that your thoughts go in.
-- so many circles that you are buried and can't get out. can't breath.


i don't want to become redundant. writing looses clarity that way.

so let me try this:

part of love is longing for routine.
so then why
is not part of routine a longing for love?

exactly.

it's walls. it comes back to walls. and ghosts, and demons, and pasts.
it comes back to things only the induvidual can touch.
only the induvidual can dismiss.

but why can't another person inspire someone to dismiss them?

i want to be -- will be -- that person.

reconfiguring my senses

i know something here
i. know. it.

stop typing it-- it makes it real--more concrete.
it's just that the more i write it. the stronger i will feel it.

damnit.

...maybe it's not enough to know yourself.
or, maybe it's too much.

unitended emotional crimes

you see this huge glimps of a person, see them in the heat of the thing they are most passionate about, know right at that moment that this a person you want...need...to be close too and you put up walls.

you put up walls because you know thats what he wants, and you know that is what he has done.

who am i to break down these walls?
arnt i always angry when someone trys to tear down mine?

or am i just scared?
... better yet has anyone actually acknowledged that there are walls that need to be taken down.

thats it.
i see these walls...his walls...and i want to tear them down.
where's the green light?
i don't even know where to look for it.

is it bad to lie to yourself this much?
you are putting up walls to block out what you have spent so long looking for...

or is it just that i want so much what i can't have?
no it's more than that.

Unvield, Uncovered, Conqured

one of these days i'll catch up to my addictions
one of these days i'll be more than just "on the mend"

soon you'll come to know
i am more than you get to see.

i find it almost ironic
a parallelism if you'll forgive my scholastic referance
that the 1st never got to know, or cared to learn anything about who i was. it was nothing intellectual, or verbal even. it was stricktly relations in the ways of shared breath, chemistry,tounges, and stolen looks. none-the-less it made an impression. although not the most pure..innocent...of impressions.

the parallelism?
now there are so many walls baring a literal touch, that they are few and far between (but not the least bit less enticing or personal as the above)...although much more pure, and for that i am thankful. (even if the reason for said purity is what makes all this twice as compilcated)
this is the learning about another human being- inside and out. sharing- willingly, excitedly- what makes you tick, and what doesn't. finding the induvidual self as well as putting the "I" back out there again and letting someone get close again. or in my case - for the 1st time. i'm learning more...through communtication...because for once it is the priority. the rest is just the extra tacked on at the end of the day. and in many ways i think that means more.

it's comming out from under the rubble. it's learning to open up with/to all the things that matter. it's trusting someone. it's the best thing for me.

i still want the first to know who i am. but not as much as i want to know who i am. all the things that motivated me through the past 2 years finaly make sense. i thought he had all the answers i was looking for. turns out i have the answers and i just need the right person to ask the right questions, and care about the answers.


Arthur Miller was dead on when, in after the fall, he wrote:

"I think it is a mistake to even look for hope outside one's self"

we Kill with Abstractions

why do we play with fire?
why do we run our finger
through the flame?

actions speak louder than words:

if i fermly believe that am i myself a hypocrate?
think about it -

is say religously that i am "over it"
that i am miles away and don't want to return.
but yesterday proves that a lie.

there for
the action drowns out my constant reiteration
that i am strong enough to leave.

but...i am the first to want believe that his publicly posted "i miss you..i'm broken" rehtoric contradict our late night phone calls and sun rise visits.

i want so much to believe that his actions speak louder than his words
but i unfairly expect my words to out shaddow my actions.

hypocrasy is one of my biggest pet peves.
and look
even that is hypocritical.

i hate how much sense that makes
i can't wrap my mind around it quite yet

Fear or love baby?
Don't say the
answer
Actions speak louder than words...

A Most Dangerous Game

i fell back into a trap today.
confused, angry, niavely hopeful,
i recogonized and hated everything step i was retracing

and you know what?
one 2 hour phone call
made all that go away

it was enough.

i hung up the phone miles away from that trap
smiling
because i believe i have escaped

touche general zaroff ... touche.

Meet Halfway and See the Sun Rise

just sitting
listening
between two people
sharing the place
where i onced begged for comfort
profound.

in that same space
before, i screamed for someone to hear me
i was drowning in so much

it was dark
night
the sun was setting
this was morning
lighter
the sun was rising
someone who cared to listen
where i didn't hate the silence
appreciated.
not because Alice in Wonderland
is white
and it was cold

because it was 3 in the morning
and i was sluring my words
with tiredness
and he was reaching for someone
for me.

"you lied,
there are starts at your house."
"what?"
"i know because i am in your front yard"
face to face phone calls
stolen from the independant silver screen
to save one another
in stillness
where simple words
have the weight of matter
whats being said
is important
because we're saying it
fanciful and sarcastic
understood.
shared stories and shard breath
shared stillness.
motion lights turned on
only by the ghosts

we are both still chasing
but the lights are moving farther
into the distnace.
i watched these clouds rise
over his shoulder
we clung to eachother
bodies and lips and tounges.

and it means so much
like fireworks and picnics
that i cant put it into words
yet alone poetry.

but i was almost poetry
on it's own.

it said alot
3 hours of shared words
and stillness
in the deep middle
of the night

in the same place where i wanted to die
i finally felt as though i wanted to come back alive
and that is worth remembering

then again,
all of this is.

"good morning"

Not The Dr.

It comes back down to the fact that i am never enough for anyone.
[ is anyone enough for me?]
thats a fair question...one i struggle with constantly


and that goes back to where i stand.


...i just wish you'd call

to be honest...sometimes your phone calls are what get me through the day
get me out of my own head.
because frankly that is where i do the most damage
and you happen to take me away from that
and congrats, because that has been a long time comming
what i have been looking for
[to be honest i fear i am a bad influence on myself when you are gone away.]

but you can't know that
i believe, because, that would fall into the catagory of mutual dependance
of emotional attachment
and eventual "falling"

but you know what...calling someone every night since you met them (3 weeks ago)
that's a ritual. that's an attachment. that's an expectation.
that seals love.

you, on some level, know that.
and it scares you
scares me too...but i am still standing here

please. please. please.
don't run away-
please.

How Ritual Seals Love

when i said i would not "fall" for you...

i lied.

let me ask you this:
don't i deserve to, for once, know where i stand in a relationship?
is that to much to ask...from you?

i understand that you have baggage ( some of which goes with mine...some i can't even begin to relate too) but is it possible that we could work through that?

you like me-i know this
i'm "different than other girls" - you think so (and i hope you're right)

you need things "concrete" - you've made that clear
but how can things be concrete when
a) niether on of us "wants" a relationship
b) are not over our past relationships

c) you have walls higher than the great wall of china built up

"i lied...i fell, what do i do now?"
"you can't save this one kac, not this time"
"why do i have to want to save him, what about saving me?"
"he's not the kind of guy you fall for, you know that"
"just because i know it doesn't mean i have to like it."

...i can hear it now.

why does that have to be important?
why can't you have an intellectual and emotional relationship...with sparse physicality?
i could - i want to - show him that someone could care for him regardless
he's shut people out...thats obvious...and understandable
i want him to know that people can look past that
it wouldn't have to define anything...just because the past has to follow you in this case
does not mean it has to controll you...and dictate the people around you.

it looks different in type.
it always does
there is something concrete about words
harshly defining emotion
situations, solutions.
...lack there of

it's just no fair.
it never is.

what can i do?

just answer the phone everynight
and hang on tight.

he'll keep me at bay through the phone lines.
how poetic