Open Diary - Czarina

Open Diary - Czarina http://www.opendiary.com/entrylist.asp?authorcode=B261321 I Need No Reason, Soulmates Never Die. http://www.opendiary.com/entryview.asp?authorcode=B261321&entry=20093 I suppose this may be the wrong question to ask, but did you consider all the possibilities when you said you'd always love me? I used to hold that truth in my upraised fist, blasting through tmy obstacles, God is real, humans suck, you'll always love me, God is real, humans suck, and you'll always, wait oh shit. So I told the truth. I was angry. I was hurt. I was tired of holding your feral little secrets. I was tired of cleaning up puke and sitting in the middle of hysteria, being the little girl in between Mommy and Daddy's fight that they didn't even know they were having. I was worried about both of you. So I told the truth, knowing yes, full well, that you would probably hate me for it, but I still did. I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry you're hurt. I'm sorry I allowed us to be in this position by taking  a position in your bed. But I'm not sorry for telling the truth, and I would do it again. And for now until forevermore, I will always always love you, but I will never ever lie for you, and I will never take your shit. Bye. Sun, 16 Sep 2007 0:00:01 GMT On Why Open Relationships Don't Work http://www.opendiary.com/entryview.asp?authorcode=B261321&entry=20092 Written around 5 AM, with an upset woman using my phone. On this day, I eagerly await a plethora of kisses. It makes honey in the back of my ribcage, this yearning. And yet. I am still in the centre of a storm, and I am the storm. Furthermore, I am an invited, begged for, danced in and now hated storm. I abate, and you throw your rubble at the sky. One cannot survive on adversity alone. Most confuse the purely and concentrated unfortunate for adversity. You CAN survive on that. I am tired of being a storm, always toeing a beach. Just once I'd like to be Whitman's field.              Though I bet Whitman would like me as a storm. He'd say dear, that coat is lovely on you. Won't you keep dancing? 'I hope you're happy with Jake." Sarcasm glitters with woven razors, a bloody harlequinade, a dragon of needles and acid and silken sinew. Of course I'm happy with him. Why else would I take you into my home and arms in and attempt to comfort you against the inevitable, why else would I stare down your accusing eyes, ignore your attempt to turn my parents against me, the stupid dog that chases my cats. Why else would I do this and then cook you dinner? Why else would I let you shovel blame into me, like coal into a furnace? I am not a martyr. Martyrs die. I am no longer a phoenix either. I hope you are. Be aware however, I did not build your pyre. I did not light any match. I did not pull you from the sky. So I will drive you home without dragging your side of my craft along the treeline, without tossing your annoying fucking dog like a potato sack out the window. I will open your door and carry your bags. I will give him only the slightest and fastest of looks, as if to say "I'm ok, I'm not the on to worry about." This look will send you into hysterics, and I will feel a genuine well of pain and worry and tenderness for you as I turn to leave. I will be scarce for awhile, you won't like that, in a strange way. But it will help. But I am not a martyr, or a phoenix. I am done killing myself every time life tries to pick me off. So don't expect me to do it. And I could never be so placid as Whitman's field. I am the storm you invited to bed after nodding off my warnings of water damage and the effects atmospheric pressure has on fragile relationships. I am the storm you begged to stay in your bed, even as you took over the raining. I am the storm you followed home, trying to escape yourself. I am the storm that will take you back to who you couldn't escape after all, and the other that I will not leave. Sun, 3 Jun 2007 0:00:01 GMT New Years http://www.opendiary.com/entryview.asp?authorcode=B261321&entry=20091 On year ago I was drunk off my ass, upset because my boyfriend was ignoring me yet again for someone else, and the man I loved intensely before him was at the same party and he was ignoring me as well. So I decided to drink until I didn't care. I remember leaning back against a wall after having a party tumbler of vodka, tapping Danny furiously, saying "I can't feel my face." he said "It's ok, it's still cute.", looking to the left, seeing Samantha, puke, looking down, puking through my nose but not enough that was noticable to anyone else, seeing Danny walk her to the bathroom, following them, giving Sam my sweater since her shirt was trashed, them telling me to puke, leaning over the toilet and trying, it wasn't working. I tried shoving my fingers down my throat, the sensation of fingertips rubbing the back of my throat and not setting anything off, wondering if this is what people thought I always did cause if so it doesn't work, a sudden flood or warmth and redbeans and rice, washing my hands, crying on the stairs of the loft, Sam saying she had had a miscarriage, bit of a walk to a new friend's apartment, Danny between us, a girl on each arm, sitting with Sam, crying because Danny didn't love us, feeding each other bread and water. Danny putting her to bed as I hung out by the sink, telling me he'd always be there for me, that it was ok, me saying it wasn't ok, puking one last time, must have been the 8th of the night, cuddling with Sam for warmth, thinking briefly it would be ok before passing out. This year sucked. Hard core. I am so done with it. Parts of it were excellent to be sure, but really, it didn't improve much from there. Tonight no matter what I will be friends, I will not get drunk because I am upset, and I will be happy this year. So take that you assholes up in the fate dept. -T Sun, 31 Dec 2006 0:00:01 GMT And here is the first of them. http://www.opendiary.com/entryview.asp?authorcode=B261321&entry=20090 This may just be notes for other poems, but it has to be written. You are a tray of rusted surgeon's knives, with buckskin leather handles, laying perfectly arranged in beautiful menace. You are the dark fluttering shapes that crown me in my dreams, the voice in the back of my mind simpering pathetically with perfectly sparkling capable eyes, keeping me at arms length on a short leash, bound and gagged to my own hopes and expectations that you steppeddownfrom.   You are not the man I wanted to marry, and yet I kept believing, weaving a perfect sparkling cocoon in my dreams, oh when he comes back to himself, darling where did you go? I miss my knight in shining armor, but you spent so much time saving other damsels, maybe if I'd spent more time weeping out of a tower window you'd have ridden back to my side. No, you wouldn't have, I tried that. You said stop it, or you'd leave me there, and then spoke at length about your own magnificent chivalry. I hope you're reading this, and I hope it makes you hurt, and I hate myself for it. So why did you stop making sense Darling? Why did you stop wrapping your arms around me with the fondness you seemed to find with every other woman? And what was with the Florida bird? She really does act like a 17 year old Darling. I've talked with her, she makes me sick. I'm almost glad you seem to have found me physically repulsive since you wouldn't touch me, so I wouldn't have your other hypocrasies vicariously smeared on my skin. I miss you. I miss my best friend. I miss the man I was going to raise my children with. Where are you? Where did you go? Why did you leave me with this troll that has now left me too? Why? Thu, 23 Nov 2006 0:00:01 GMT Hey, I'm still here. http://www.opendiary.com/entryview.asp?authorcode=B261321&entry=20089 Lol, wow, looking back at my last entry, wow. Well, Danny is fucking marrying her. After a long sordid weird period and short fucked up breakup he's engaged to Sam, the one woman who swore she'd not be an issue anymore. Fucking cornflake girl. Danny, I know you might still read this, and I don't care. Asshole. I love you more than life itself, but you're an asshole. And I think you're making the biggest mistake of your life, but whatever, you won't listen to me anyway. So now I'm dating a guy from school (I've started my freshman year at SCAD Atlanta) monogamously, and he's wonderful. He doesn't ask me to compromise or make strange demands that are not appreciated, I don't have to support him, in fact he supports me sometimes, he appreciates everything I do, if he's ignoring me it's because he works 3 jobs and goes to school and not because he's just lazy or apathetic or whatever the fuck Danny's problem was, and it's just astounding. Thank you Mario, you've redeemed your gender for the most part. As for school, I have a theory that SCAD really stands for Sleep Comes After Death. But I'm learning, and I'm challenged, and I'm excited.  Plus I've gained weight from stealing their food, so that's exciting too.   So yeah, I guess now here come the ranty poems of angsty death, bring on the eyeliner. But first, the sleep, cause I just finished the quarter and finals just about killed me.   I'm sorry I've been away so long, I'll stop neglecting this place, I swear. -Terp Thu, 23 Nov 2006 0:00:01 GMT