kooyla
bars in front of my eyes, feeling imprisoned today. sometimes the bars are invisible, but constrict us further than any physical impediments. what can't be seen can't be defeated.
existence is drab sometimes, other days there are cookies. i am listening to fiona apple tell me how it is, i appreciate her viewpoint. she gets angry in such a satisfying way. i need to channel her rage one of these days and fix all the bs in my life. i am tired of waiting for things to improve...as Fiona says, "What wasted unconditional love on somebody who doesn't believe in the stuff...."
an ant, something that seems insignificant until there are 500 of them in your house. then, they seem a little more threatening. many things in life start and end like the ant. it is hard to write today. but i keep going until the gong sounds.
i don't feel like writing about offer. ever have one of those days where your chest is ripped out? yeah. it's been one of those days. my mind fumbles for the simplest of thoughts.
a chance to do something different with your life should never be rejected, for who among us has the perfect life from the get go? i believe that life is full of chances, taken and not taken. life is really not about chance but the decisions you make with the multitude of chances out there to grab at. which choices do you make, will chance be something you control or will you be swept away.
i will never be someone's secretary again, no matter how long I live. That is a particularly brutal chapter of my life that I will not repeat. I will scrub floors on my hands and knees (done it before, and yes, it is brutal), I will even sell you a burger, but I will never answer phones and take shit again.
destruction of memories occurs when someone behaves in a way that contradicts who you thought they were. then you see everything in a different light, from another perspective. how many times they lied to you. how many times it was a let down. how many things have went wrong in such a short span of time. makes you want to demolish it all and start over again.
force is a tricky thing. too much of it and you're pushing, but not enough and you're just lazy. i try to apply the right amount of force in social situations. did i say the right thing, should i have spoken up more? am i hiding who i really am when i'm shy? am i really shy, or maybe just selective?
an umbrella under which we are all sheltered. an umbrella that keeps the outside world outside. some form of insecurity under the skin that makes you want to always protect yourself from outside influences. are you afraid of change? do you find the situation confusing, alarming, funny? You are a mystery, your true self hides under your umbrella.
skin against skin. something hidden, perhaps not socially accepted. something mysterious, something exaggerated, something dirty, something forbidden. something you pay to see, some folks get for free, something i wish for but don't get, something so intriguing in the planes of your face.
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writing since 2011 · 28 entries · 26 days shown up
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the words Kooyla reaches for
sometimeshardlocknowfacescanvaswordsmissedsecretmindwhitememorieslivepunishmentbindslove