meredithelaine
you can take the girl out of jersey, but you can't take the jersey out of the girl

i will shy away from the specifics


2006-03-14 The current mood of meredithelaine at www.imood.com

i want to be worthy of words. THOSE words. poetic and confusing and storytelling and some sort of cinematic grace.

not just an "OMG ur hott" -- which i am not, by the way.

i aspire, if that's even the right term, to be beautiful. but in a way that is deeper than just my 38Cs or my long brown hair or my Crest-Worthy smile. i want to be gorgeous from within. read the words, look into my brown eyes and find out why they turn green when i cry. something has to radiate. i've got an overactive imagination - i think about the things that i want other people to think and feel about me. killing myself slowly - breaking my own heart. feeding my ego the fake stories and dreams that never come true.

i'm singing a dedication to you. or at least to someone. there's a love or a hatred in every song choice. every lyric and inflection.

it bothers me that "emo" has become a term that is mocked. look at that "emo" kid with the "emo" haircut or what-have-you. because if you truly are emo(tional), it runs deeper. so much deeper. maybe we are all bruised egos and attention whores who have no fewer than 4 blogs and post our pictures everywhere we can. did you ever stop to think that there might be a reason?

perhaps it is physical. perhaps it is chemical. perhaps it is biological. perhaps it is situational. perhaps we have somehow chosen to forget the specifics of the circumstances...

maybe all we know is that if we don't get IT out of our system as much as we can, as often as we can, then some bad could happen. we need release. therapy and medications only get you so far. yoga and deep breathing can only do so much. creation and destruction are one and the same, sometimes. we have to create mountains of words - twisted mazes of self-exploitive slop, and plaster the walls of the world with our pained expressioned faces. we MUST do this, in order to destroy the hatred within us. to purge ourselves of the demons we carry. to free the tears.

i am a pouring faucet. water flowing into a cup, up-up-up to the top and over the edge. i have to spill over eventually, in order to clear myself out. but i know i will fill again. up-up-up. more-more-more.

sometimes it's too much to take. and so i just spill it all. and i don't even realize what is rushing forth from me. i don't understand it. it's just pain and regret and sorrow and hatred and GODDAMN it why don't you love me? why doesn't anyone love me? why do i feel so ORDINARY? why do i dream of being put on some sort of pedestal, even though i am not deserving of it?

i just want to be special to somebody. but in a special way. i want to be uniquely lovable. i want to be a sparkling angel. a faerie. someone's unspoken wish. another's deepest regret. MISS ME. just miss me, somewhere in your heart. i want to MEAN something. not just boobs or ass or smile or skin or laughter or voice -- though, yes, they are all important in their own way. but i want to have a meaningful soul. i want to have depth. not serious ALL the time - god, that would KILL me. but certainly, not just some fluffy passtime, either.

dream, come true...?



posted by: less-than3

spoke the truth!

[if you like what you read, please clix me!]

9:06 p.m.
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