It's been a rough day. I've been such a good mood but no one seems to want to humour me, or be interested in just having some fun. Everyone is poorly and in a bad mood and I'm just happy, loud and annoying Betty. It just won't do. Anyhow, if I don't get some control on my feelings when I do come down from this high (and it won't be long) I'll be so low and despairing (when, quelle surprise, everyone is back in a good mood. I'm totally out of step.) that I might not make it through the year. My moods are just too extreme and the environment doesn't demand for it: I need to be even mannered if I'm going to get through this. So I'll be moderating my emotions, sharply, for now on, I'm afraid. I haven't cut much recently but I'll need to soon and I'm just being...practical, anticipating when I'll next be completely incapitated with depression.
Otherwise, I am full of love songs and poetry and romance. I'm in the perfect mood to be swung off my feet and pampered and loved. My mood? Iris, by the Goo Goo Dolls:
And I’d give up forever to touch you
’cause I know that you feel me somehow
You’re the closest to heaven that i’ll ever be
And I don’t want to go home right now
And all I can taste is this moment
And all I can breathe is your life
’cause sooner or later it’s over
I just don’t want to miss you tonight
And I don’t want the world to see me
’cause I don’t think that they’d understand
When everything’s made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
And you can’t fight the tears that ain’t coming
Or the moment of truth in your lies
When everything feels like the movies
Yeah you bleed just to know you’re alive
And I don’t want the world to see me
’cause I don’t think that they’d understand
When everything’s made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
And I don’t want the world to see me
’cause I don’t think that they’d understand
When everything’s made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
And I don’t want the world to see me
’cause I don’t think that they’d understand
When everything’s made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am
My poem? Sonnet 116 By Shakespeare:
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
I just want romance and love and to make out with that gorgeous girl. I've been writing more poems, although they aren't essentially lovely. I'm just beginning to feel that I've lost that loveliness inside of me. It used to lie there, dormant, in my heart and its been cleared out so I can love more freely, love better. But I would love to have that ability, that humane part of me. But before I sign off, there is one more poem I want you to read. It's a bit strange, and has a certain meter to it. If I could recite it on the internet I would but this will have to do.
Untitled
Gold never decays.
You put me down and frowned upon
My smile as I lay.
I want you to own me.
You kissed my eyelids shut –
You chide, dare your pride
To ride high without –
I don’t actually care, but you’ll try.
I said before;
I want you to own me.
Let’s drown in romance,
Ridiculous sentiments. Ease.
Gold can run thin in the soul.
You don’t sparkle, you glide
And leave me lying here besides.
I could detest you.
If I remembered how to breathe.
You let strange men take me away
In red velvet blackness.
I am still waiting
To see you again.
Gold band on my finger
Protests again through the procession
Yet you remain.
Am I stained?
Soon I won’t be seeing you again.
Gold band on my finger,
Such loneliness is such a tempting
Trigger.
I don’t know what to say to you.
But I’m going down now, somehow.
What I have refused to see is
A fatal flaw in the breakdown of love,
That the mask frozen to pieces,
The man who said he’d always love me is a liar.
And I perish as the gold grows bolder,
An evergreen cliché.
- Okay, there it is. It was inspired by a John Donne (love) poem I had to overanalyse in class, and I started to think about the "romantic properties" of gold. Then I thought to throw in the macabre, inspired by the Helena video by My Chemical Romance. It's a nice mixture. Please tell me what you think!
(This is Helena...)
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