July, July...

First night of the month, of my month. My birthday month. One of the months that I've been waiting on all year because it means it is summer and I am supposed to be enjoying my summer. No school, no homework, no worries till late August, and I am supposed to be happily working on my novel, and being overall cad about town with going out and having fun, misadventures with friends and such. Summer with the summer lusting.

Not this July. A day into the new month and I am not the image of what I'm supposed to be, carefree summer girl. That summer girl is gone, baby. Just gone.

I'm dying inside.

I need to be able to breathe again.

If it's not the hurt ravaging my heart, breaking it further into pieces I can't, I won't even look at to pick up, I'm numb. Numb and faking how I am every day, feeling nothing. Just numb, automatic responses on cue, and I am lying. Faking it because I am in that place where I am shocked, just numb.

But breathing, to feel any semblance of anything beyond this hurt, to break through to that I have to do something stupid or find something that will define me, if only for a few moments.

The last time I felt alive, I felt real, felt happiness, felt myself become define. I remember that too well. I don't want to remember that because it only hurts me more. It reminds me and right now I don't need to be reminded. I need to forget.


"Let's not forget ourselves, good friend. You and I were almost dead,
and he's better off for leaving, yeah he's better off for leaving..."

I fear that in a few years I will not know myself and become the living embodiment of a favorite song of mine. It's sweet to aspire to become a song in life, but it's fuck up when the song that you see yourself becoming is fucked up because it means you think you yourself are fucked up.

Fuck.

Haha, what's ironic is that if I had just stuck to doing that, I would be just fine right now.

Would I?

there's something about

the sweet roar of a motorcycle engine when it is being rev up that just makes my heart race and my head turn so quick that as I strain to locate the sound.

I don't understand it but I don't question this attraction to it that just makes me get up out of my seat and get going.

It's crazy. And I love it.

Is this another way to self actualized?

I don't know. But I can't deny it any more. It's not like I have to be born liking something in order for me to like it. So yes, it's a new infatuation. One I've denied because of the remaining shreds of traditionalism I've had.

But now, all I want to do is fly. Nothing is going to stop me. Especially not myself. Not going to happen tomorrow. Or a week from now. But one day, I will, and in the meantime I will take that motivation and put it to use, and do things my way. Happiness comes whichever way :)