I am having a hell of a time trying to make sentences
To say what I am thinking.
My thoughts are all little fragments
Connecting to each other most haphazardly.
I am still in a state of odd anger and high emotion,
And I am told you shouldn't do things
In the height of emotion.
You may regret things.
But as I already have regrets,
I think I can manage to live with some more.
This'll be long post,
I'll tell you that now.
One:
On the subject of sentimental-love poetry and why writing it is uncomfortable/less desirable.
Everyone writes sappily about love.
Everyone talks about love.
Thinks about it.
Experiences it.
Wants it.
Has it.
Needs it.
So why should I contribute to the madness that surrounds the idea of "love"
There seems to be no general consensus on what love really is.
I don't know how to write un-sappily/originally about the relationship-type of love.
I don't have first-hand experience there,
And I think with certain topics,
You can write about them from an estranged, unexperienced point of view.
But love?
What feelings does the evoke?
I know only familial and unrequited love.
And unrequited love is just too negative, stalker-like to write about.
So how can I write about love
And fend off the cliches and simply unrealistic views.
Truthfully
I'd like to write something about love.
I very much find it to be pretty thing, generally.
But what do I say?
What goes on?
I am lost to the notion.
And I can't talk about why writing about love flusters me so,
For I sound stupid and I hesitate to say things like "I don't know what this love is like"
Because how silly does that sound?
I don't think I could say things like that to an adult without them thinking
"Well isn't she just an angsty little freak."
But I dearly want to explain my stance,
Explain why I wrote how I did.
But I can't for I stutter and stumble and trip over my words
And I can't uphold my reasonings without failing.
Without looking like a fool.
And while who I'm talking to shouldn't effect the situation,
It certainly does.
Maybe I'd be better off writing out another detailed description of how sentimentality makes me feel.
In short:
It makes me feel like a naive, lusting teenager who knows nothing about anything, and who can't avoid cliches or talk through what love is.
That
Is how it makes me feel.
How does sentimentality make YOU feel?
To my pale blue eyes boy.
I am sentimental over you.
Yes, you.
Obviously.
And if I wrote something sappy and sentimental about you,
You'd never realize.
And I could tell you my philosophy in Velvet Underground songs,
For I know you'd understand,
But you still could never decode the messages just strung about
And I swear you'll never see.
And one day I will crack and make some horrible mistake
And we'll both come to some startling realization.
I wonder sometimes,
What you think about.
And I wonder
If you wonder.
May I take a moment to iterate that fact that you are not single.
You are, as far as I am concerned, very taken.
And that makes it just that much more ridiculous to pine over you.
I am just a horrible, sappy, useless sort of human being.
I hate being a stupid teenaged girl.
I've fallen for someone most unattainable,
And yet I continue on in my utterly illusioned state.
So, to Pale Blue Eyes:
I love you,
You taken, out-of-reach, lovely person.
I hate pining and such.
I hate sentimentality.
When it's me being real-life sentimental,
All starry-eyed and whatnot.
I like when picture-perfect couples are sentimental,
Just to that point where it's subtle and not overbearing and not sickening.
I like that.
That's alright.
This is not.
And so be it, so be it.
I am still contemptuous
Towards most things today.
How very rude of me.
And I am having so many angry, driven thoughts
That I know not how to catalogue them into order and logic.
But I needn't want for logic,
The heart doesn't often follow the logical mind.
And my heart has done most of my talking lately.
I am letting my stark emotions control as they may.
And they are doing a very dismal job.
I still want to give up for a bit.
Let it all go to ruin,
Oh how selfish,
And I want to just take a walk and sit in the dark and the cold and breathe in
The air that will both hurt and cleanse my lungs.
I want to breathe in the stardust and I want to realize my insignificance in the universe,
No matter how it terrifies, and makes my eyes water
And I will let the tears roll all bulbously down my face.
And then I suppose I'd laugh.
At the silliness of all this seriousness.
I do hope I could laugh at that.
And I'd like to just watch stars move across night.
And I know it's a slow sort of movement,
But then again,
What isn't a slow movement?
We all rush too much.
Slowing down.
Is what we all need.
I want to throw words on a page
And I want to stare at them until they make some sort of sense.
And I want to give them to someone,
Anyone.
And let them see the words as they may.
And I hope, for the sake of my sanity,
That they can understand.
It is apparently time to throw away my precision for a moment.
To step miles and miles out my sphere of writing.
Maybe letting go a little bit will be good.
Without direction
I feel I would be miles and leagues and fathoms from where I am.
Thank you.
For I do think you've done more for me than you're aware of.
I still feel so bothersome for asking you for so much of your time.
But you seem so perfectly alright with it.
You're quite a wonderful human being, I'd say.
And you won't see this.
And I know that.
But it's a thank you that I hope finds you somewhere.
Because you're swell.
In case anyone needs to know who this is, for they haven't figured it out,
I have a teacher who's helped me so much with my writing so far.
To a certain "Mr. Schey".
You're more help than I think you think you are.
Thanks.
I feel as though that's an awkwardly placed
Heartfelt note of gratitude.
But it happened and so be it.
People need to know they're appreciated, right?
And here is a more general address of gratitude.
To those who are here, reading this,
You are all quite swell.
And I am thankful for you all,
Regardless of you are.
If I could transform into Ellen DeGenres and give you all spiffy gifts,
No doubt, I would.
But I can't.
So I can only give you virtual hugs and kind words.
I hope that's enough to convey my gratitude.
And saying things like that makes me feel better.
I know so many nifty people.
So I say
Let's all go break the rules and defend our beliefs
With a hearty "Because I said so!"
For I think that's all that should be needed.
Adieu and goodnight
And I hope you are feeling content in your lives and your philosophies.
And if not,
I'm right there with you.
And I think we'll find where we should be and who we all are at some point.
It's the journey, right?
Adieu.
And watch this:
No comments:
Post a Comment