Jaded. Fragmented. Fallen.
Always Rising.

Thursday, October 20, 2005
10:59 a.m.
i'm still awake,
wrapped in a blanket.
mind going a thousand thoughts per second.
i have to work tomorrow-
it would be nice to feel sleep.

i guess that's wat i get for wishing to be human.

things lately, have not been going as planned.
my sister suffers frum the night.
frum the diamond afraid of the coal.
my other sister just keeps popping pills,
and endless cure for the designs of her disease.
my great-grandfather has made his final step,
the lasting impression that won't get to me yet.
and everything has been peachy keen
for me and my mental state.

peachy freaking keen,
while eating strawberry yogurt.
it's all in my mind,
and they are threatening to take over.
-alysia-

Thursday, October 20, 2005
10:56 a.m.
her jack 'n' coke sits untouched.
she's sure it's her fifth
but she can't seem to be bothered by counting anymore.
it's all the same.
it's all the same.

how he calls her up.
how he doesn't pronounce her name.
how he just expects her to be thrilled.
he, afterall, picked her to call.

it's all the same.

how he strokes her hair.
how he casually smiles.
she tries not to fall for it.
she tries to hide frum it
but it's all the same.

and slowly she falls into the same groove.
finds herself looking up at him.
wide eyes, innocent smile.
she finds herself opening up to him.
gives her soul,
places it on the table beside the bed.
there, for him to hold.
for him to knock to the floor.

it's all the same.
-alysia-

Thursday, October 20, 2005
10:55 a.m.
today she wakes up and it's dark out.
today she wakes up and forgets wat it looks like.
fresh eyes.
new fears.
not unfounded,
but ever so illogical.
-alysia-

Thursday, October 20, 2005
10:51 a.m.
gently stepping outta the shower
she wraps the towel around herself.
lets her hair fall down.
drip down her back.
she rubs the mist frum the mirror and sticks out her tongue.
same old gurl again.
looking away.
she follows the carpet. follows the motions.
follows in the footsteps of no one before her.
and yet she's everyone else.

815...she has half an hour to make herself beautiful.
to make herself into everything he wants her to be.
it's not difficult.
she's been doing it all her life.
sighing,
she starts to apply the layers.
the pieces that hide where she still bleeds,
where she's real.
soon there's not much left.

soon there's just your dream gurl-
and not much else.
-alysia-

Thursday, October 20, 2005
10:36 a.m.
i'm covered in scars
and sumhow i have no explanation for any of it.
for any of this.
beauty. sex appeal. laughing at all the right moments.
i've always held disdain for this materialistic, phoney,
wonderfully gurly way of thinking
and yet i've been trying to get to that point-
i've been forcing on these shoes-

they fit too tight
and there's simply just
no room to breathe.

Looking up frum her page,
she realizes that just because she's fighting depression.
just because these lil white pills are binding her arms,
to keep her frum that dark green jaded glass.
it doesn't mean she's conforming.
it doesn't mean she has to all of a sudden become this cured beauty queen.
sure, she's been thru a lot and has grown and learnt.
but she still falls.
is still allowed to fall.
she's still allowed this jaded view of life.
she's still allowed to write.

even if it's no longer stained in blood.
-alysia-