Shifting, Twisting, Convulsing. A poem written by me awhile ago...

The girl in the mirror is a different person every glance.
A different face. A different shape.

shifting, twisting, convulsing.

where is the meaning in the life she glimpses in the mirror?

what life?

shifting, twisting, convulsing.

it's different when no ones looking.
she can be who she is. Who she wants to be. A figment of an imagination that is constantly

shifting, twisting, convulsing.

A life she will never know, a life contained only in the fragments of her numb brain.
Numb to the world. Numb to who she is. Who she could be. Who she wants to be.

The world breaks her down. Life breaks her down. The people that care most, fading away. The life she once knew. The simpleness, the windy days, the running around, the childhood carelessness that swept away all the unknown cares of the world. Constantly

shifting.......................
twisting........................

......
convulsing.

Write it out they say. Write it all down. Write young girl.

Will it fix it? Will it bring this grand life created in the dark to life sized images behind her fragile eyes?

The girl in the mirror. She changes with every passing glance.

She shifts. She twists. She convulses.....

until perfection in no longer just word spoken in prayer, whispered in the wind.

Clinging to perfection. Stolen words.

Write it down you sad unmotivated creature of ignorance, pathetically living life in a robotic manner...taught by the society who stares ahead with blank eyes and vacant expressions.

Feel no emotions. Live their life as if running from the plague of being a nobody.

Make money. Be successful. Recession. World end.

Probably....

Write it down they say.

Dear agony. Just let go of me. Suffer slowly. Don’t bury me. Face this enemy. I’m so sorry. Is this the way it’s gotta be? More stolen words. Words not my own. The words of a nobody who has done everything she wants to do and has become a somebody.

I do write it down!
Always screaming at society, society who is mute to her cries.

She does write it down but……


It makes no sense to their imbecilic ears.

It constantly shifts, twists and convulses.

All in a day....

So. My shift button is acting sneaky and not working sometimes. This is bothering me. :/
I have recently learned that I will be losing yet another roommate. I have the worst luck in roommates. lol. This news makes me really happy and excited yet panicky and sad all at the same time. You see, I lost this roommate to a wonderful culinary art school. So in that way I am happy for him...but now I am. GAH. Alone again. This makes me ponder as to why I am sad to be alone. I lived in Green Bay alone...but ever since I had a roommate I can't stand being alone. Odd. I think so. I sometimes wonder why anyone would want to read this stuff. :/ I want to get back into writing. I had started writing a book, but I got sidetracked and I have not even looked at since July. I forgot where I was going with it. Should I go to creative writing school? I don't know. What is your (whoever you are) opinion?

Also. Recently I have become horribly addicted to Adam Lambert's music.

Again. Also. I think I have thrown out my back. Due to all the....wild....dancing around my apartment to none other than Adam Lambert. :)

Just like that a year is almost gone

It's crazy to think that almost an entire has passed since I last posted anything. Things have been pretty crazy. From moving to a new apartment to friends, and siblings getting married. Losing friendships and then getting them back. I sometimes wonder when my life will start. I so often wish that my life would lead me in the direction i am meant to go for the reminder of my days, but on the other hand I grow steadily more terrified of getting older. Getting older means you have to die. Dying means you can never see the people you love again and to be honest....i have a hard time grasping the idea of just...eternally existing. If that makes sense. I try to think about dying and then just being. No sadness, no fatigue, no hunger, no thirst, no..nothing except just being. Sounds rather dreary to me. Not that I am trying to be cynical....it's just something I've been pondering.