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This has been the most bewildering month of my entire life.
I suppose the best way to begin this is with a couple randomish sentences and a poem.
I lost my hardbound journal. This has been an extremely difficult loss because it contained photographs, phone numbers, and half a year's life story. One of the most interesting half-a-years of my life, because it began when I turned 18. Since I got that journal, I've gone through four courtships, moved cross country from the ass-end of nowhere in California to Manhattan, gone back across the country to Vegas to meet someone the day after visiting an emergency room, come back to my mother's home in A-eoN, California, lost the closest friend to my family I've ever known (Felicisima Ganza, 02/26/02), met the most promising business client in my life, and then lost my journal and the two bus tickets it held within its priceless duct-tape bound glory.
In case you're wondering, the other bus ticket was for my best friend whom I will refer to as Sinny.
Although right now, I'm in a certain state, where I can't say I have best friends anymore. I have begun my conquest in a battle with bipolar disorder and anxiety. I feel by keeping myself journalled, I'll have a great advantage. I already dominate my will, but like any other human, I have my moments of weakness and poor judgement. The gap between who I am & what I have and who I want to be & what I want.. this gap has widened the width of two ocean cliffs of opposing continents.
There was a time in my life when I was content, when I was satisfied, when I was complete. I had the marvelous gift of vision, the blessing of guidance, and support, and love, and light.
It is not easy for a female to be pure, much less noble, and by far, hardest to be a monk in this day and age, and my point is that my balance could not be sustained forever in the environment in which a 15 year old female is forced to dwell. Well, not by this will, anyway.
I'm getting too metaphorey and vague to go on in journal so I'll post the poem.
Mend What is Torn
I am no longer strong enough to see myself
as friend
To anyone, or anything, except
for money
Revealing my only and deepest secret left me
completely alone,
pining for home,
praying for gold,
vulnerable, and inhuman
i'm not myself
i'm no one else
i'm only a..
ghost in a shell
waiting to be cast away,
back into nothing
a liar, a cheat,
excuse for nothing
Living and breathing,
culminating into a
climactic display
of shallowness
after all,
I'm just
a soul with no heart,
a girl torn apart-
a heap of rubble.
a voice with no name,
a woman insane-
a load of rubbish.
So what i reap
ain't what i sow,
when tied up in knots
tryin to make a bow..
I cried a lot on the day
my dreams were squashed.
I wanted to die,
but nobody else wanted me to go.
With my mind set aside,
I went on to lie,
put up a ruse,
fell short of my will,
..don't know how I
could have failed to choose
to honor myself
before someone else..
if I can't keep a promise to me,
how could anybody be
true to the end,
to me, as a friend
when I've broken boundaries by
stepping on my conscience
to get high enough to go over the wall..
But karma tends to step in,
trip you so you stumble & fall..
To hell with it all.
Take time to yourself
There's no need to crawl
back in your hole
To escape it all
Just realize
A friend til the end
Is something that
money cannot buy, and
A segment of time need
not be defined
If there's one thing I can give
It's this-
I promise you,
all I want for you is bliss,
So long as it's earned.
So, after you've learned
That good things come to those who wait..
Reunited, at last,
Hope life don't go too fast,
Because all I want out of life
Is a child, and the love of a
friend who will be
in it 'til the end,
whom I'll always defend.
The kind who'd die in an instant
to save your life, given the chance-
Because we are human,
and our love's bond cannot be broken
by heartless negative emotion.
posted by
Kate Johnson at 3/13/2002 05:20:19 AM
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