be quiet and drive far away...
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by stillwater67  (stillwater67.tumblr.com)
Three way
Amy: You're being serious about this, aren't you?
Me: Yeah, I am.
Zach: It's funny. I thought you would have dropped that bitch by now.
Amy: Zach.
Zach: Yes?
Amy: Quit it.
Zach: Quit what? You don't fucking justify cheating. Charlie, if you knew your fucking ex girlfriend was going to cheat on you, then why didn't you do the honors?
Me: I did. Albeit, I painfully made the bed that I thought I was going to be saved in.
Zach: Yeah? Did you guys ever see each other? Sleep together? Go out on dates? No. You wasted your time talking her to death. Like, you guys literally have nothing in common. You're Asian oriented and she's practically white as fuck. I understand that differences can hold people together but-
Me: I didn't care about that. I liked her because I liked her. Shouldn't that be good enough reason?
Amy: Charlie. What Zach is trying to say-
Me: I know what he's trying to say. And I'm not ignoring this painful lump in my heart. You guys know that.
Amy: Well, how do you want us to help you dude?
Me: That's the thing. I don't even know where to begin. I'm stuck in limbo. In limbo of wanting to stay as a friend and help her in whatever way I can. But at the same time, I feel like I'm just hindering her progress of the past events.
Zach: Well you know what dude? She deserves that fucking karma. Every single bit.
Amy: Zach.
Zach: What?
Amy: We're here to help him. Not suffocate him. God, you can be such a fucking asshole at times.
Zach: Yeah. That tends to happen when you realize that you're stuck in the wrong fucking universe.
Me: Guys. I really do need your help. I'm stuck. I really am.
Amy: We're here.
Zach: Go on mate.
Me: Okay... I want to stay with her. To just be there. You know? She's the first person to ever make me feel so alive, to save me from a fall, and to bring a disaster right after. But she's a good person. And I want to repay that back by being her friend, but...
Amy: You feel that the past tensions will surface and make everything awkward?
Me: Yeah.
Amy: It's tough hon. I'm not in a relationship right now. I figured that staying single would be the best option for me in case anything bad happened, but at the same time, bad things causes people to grow. Whether it be weird and twisted, or mature and bright.
Me: I've learned a lot. I just want to know what's the next best step.
Amy: We can't tell you what to do Charlie. We can only guide you as best we can.
Me: I know.
Amy: You told me that she's been having troubles of her own. I wouldn't say back away like Zach would say, but I wouldn't say bother her constantly. Rather, just make her feel like the only one in the world who's going through shit. You know what I'm saying?
Me: Yeah.
Amy: To stay or fly. Man... This kind of thing is not easy... Your turn.
Zach: Who, me? Amy. He already knows the answer that I'm about to give him. It may seem fucking cold and heartless, but think about it. When these fuckers are not together, shit, Charlie might have a successful career one day and maybe a wife and some kids. Same shit with his ex. So long as they're not in contact with each other giving awkward negativity and forced conversations, it's all fucking good. And if they need support, they can talk to their significant others. And if they decide not to do all that bull shit, so what? They can still enjoy life. Travel. Make shit happen. Discover. The works. Charlie. I think you need to relearn on how to be alone again. That's your problem. You've become so dependent on someone else for your happiness that you can't even make yourself truly happy anymore unless you have communication from your ex. Like dude, you're pushing it to the point where she doesn't even like you anymore. Just, drop the bitch and fucking move on. If she can move on, so can you. If she dies, you'll die too. It's a circle of life my friend. Just live in the present and focus on the positives. And of course, vent out the negatives. Jesus H Christ, how could I forget that one?
Me: I think I've decided...
Zach: Yeah?
Me: It's not time. No. It's gotta be right. I've held on so tight, the rope has been strangled to death. I have to sever it. No tape apologies can help make it better. We both have to grow and do our own things. She'll live fine without me. Her heart will ache a little, but she'll be fine alone. I can't keep on dragging her down. 'Cause that means I'm only living for her and not for myself. No. I have to sever. The right time. Not now. I just gotta-
Amy: We understand dude.
Zach: Yeah.
Me: Yeah. Well. We should all get some sleep. It's four in the morning.
Zach: I'm staying up. You fuckers can go jack off in a tree or something.
Amy: Shut the fuck up Zach. Okay guys. Take it easy. Sweet dreams.
So, I really need to get this off my chest. I really do. It bugs me

So, okay. 9/11 was about two days ago. I did my pledge of allegiance, I didn’t sing the national anthem, but I remember the scene on TV those thirteen years ago. I didn’t know what to make of it. Not until a few years later where it hit me that thousands of people did die during the twin tower strikes along with the unsung heroes that were trying to save the injured and gravely wounded. And, horrifyingly enough, I can picture it. Over and over again. And it still wouldn’t bring back the dead. They can only be remembered. I’m not much of a political person, but after playing this game called “Deus Ex,” I began to uncover disturbing government conspiracies, and I started to question out loud, what is our government doing? Over the past decade and a half almost, I came to the inevitable conclusion that our government was hiding something. I mean. Just the numbers alone. 9/11? 911? A call for help? Just, why? Why on that day? What made that day so special and specific to those people that bombed the buildings? Why savagely kill all those innocent people? What for? What was there to gain from blowing something up? And then, it hit me. Maybe our own government set it up just to gain power in some way. To win. To persuade the people of America that the middle east is the enemy, along with everyone else that associates with “the terrorists.” In my lifetime of watching the news, I’ve heard nothing fancy or wonderful about middle eastern people. Shit, I could walk down town and into the streets, and there’s probably some racist motherfucker trying to point out that anyone that looks Arab or is wearing a turban is a cold blooded killer. Like, no. Seriously. I have worked with Arabic people before, and they are some of the nicest people I’ve had the pleasure to work with. Every time someone was down or sad at my old work place, they would try to make jokes and talk about food and try to relate to the different cultures surrounding the factory area. Like, they weren’t evil. In fact, every time I was near the sanitation guys, I felt safe and assured that the work was going to get done and nobody was going to get hurt while operating the machinery. And if they weren’t talking to anyone, they would push hard to get stuff done, even when things were grim on the time clocks. In the back of their minds, even though they were smiling at the front, they knew that their people in their home country were getting slaughtered for no reason. Innocents. Families. Husbands and wives with children and elderly. Taking shelter wherever they can, running from gunfights and small street wars, to scavenging for food. That’s the reality that we Americans don’t see too often. It’s screened from our eyes. And what fucking sucks big time is that the middle east is still getting bombed and the body count is still rising. I wish I could do something to stop it, to save all those innocent people from being killed, but against our government and the corruption? Fuck man. It’s like playing a tug-o-war match with your classmates and you’re all by yourself trying to do the impossible. You can’t possibly win. Not alone or with a few people at least. You need a bigger squad. A group. A mass. To fight back and win the match. I thank the people over here in America that acknowledge what is happening over in the middle east and here too. I just wish I can take people’s hands and show them some light, but I can’t force change. No. The only thing I can possibly do is try to reach out in some way. To bring awareness. I’ll try and make it my goal to visit the middle east one day…

And possibly help the people suffering in some way…

Until then, I’m stuck over here with my own little big battles. Some day…

I read something on tumblr a few hours back and it clicked…

This site has turned into something else. They say that this site accepts and loves gays, but hates everyone that is not gay. And yes, we need more feminism. We do. Absolutely. But the hate for all guys in the world? Like, what the hell? Not every guy is like that. That’s like me saying that all girls are evil or everyone is evil, and I know that’s not true. Where is the equality?

And once again, my depression is gone. Thank fucking god…

Seriously though…

I feel as though she doesn’t care about me anymore…

Like, I don’t exist. That I’m merely just an annoying insect for her to swat away. But that’s okay though. That just means that she is just as fake as all the other motherfuckers I’ve met during high school. Pretty on the outside, but rotten on the inside. And I feel like I’m just trailing along her wake as she sails with her big ship. Towards the never ending ocean and god knows where. I’m merely just bait for the sharks to devour me. I keep sailing back to her, hoping to make land fall and start anew. But every time I place my foot onto the island, it begins to flood. Everywhere. This blood soaks up everything. The deathly silence of the sirens piercing my fragile ears. As I go back to my boat to safety, I see her sail away yonder. Leagues from where I’m at. She knows right. She knows not to stay. She knows how to move on, but I don’t. I’m caught in this web where I’m trying to stay away the spiders that glower in the dark. I make it back to the boat, harmed, but mildly safe. As I catch up to her, I try to call back, but it’s merely just whispers in the wind and even more darkness. A certain darkness. A baritone whisper. Just for me. Even though I can’t hear her, I can see her lips move. She says, “Get away.” Lost and confused, I think to myself, can I help her mend her wounds? Or will I only make things worse for the both of us? Our battle scars are showing and we’ve clawed at each other’s throat. The red marks are there, always visible. These tears that stream down my face as she continues to fade away into the sunset and into the night. But I hold on tight. Steadfast. I came all this way again just to sink without a fight? I thought there was something, but I’m torn between wanting to leave again and holding on tightly. I can’t make up my mind. It’s in a violent whirlpool of death and destruction. It’s imminent and obvious. It’s going to fail for all the obvious reasons, and it’s going to fail for all the hidden reasons. Hope is the only delusion that I can give to the both of us to stay afloat, but she doesn’t need me it seems. She has her own hope. And yet, she doesn’t shoot her cannons to scare me, rather, hang a noose down to let me love the option. Why am I letting someone control my life like this? This is not love, is it? It’s torture. Distant gradual torture that wears a person’s heart down even further into the pits of hell. I try to climb aboard but she pulls away and kicks me down with the rest of her crew. I’m no longer her friend, but I stay anyways. I keep my knuckles white with anger, hoping that one fucking day, I’ll be able to break the seal, this cycle of never ending torment, to roam the earth as I please without conviction. On another random note, my mother’s probably wondering why I haven’t called her back. I’m probably feeling her butterfly effect too. She’s just as lonely as I am. I have to get her a bunny one day. Continuing on… As I look up, I see her smirking. I’m just a game to her. A pawn, that’s about to fall down soon, as this red cancer takes over my body day by day, minute by minute. In her front, she tries a little to care, but the reality of her inner hearts play out as I see her true nature unfold with her flags. I’m merely a scapegoat for her. Something to look down on. A piece of shit that’s less than dirt. Slowly deteriorating. On the occasion, she drops the anchor, just to give me a little sympathy, but I know as soon as I take her hand, she’ll push me off and back into the small room. I’m feeling quite cramped. God I’m shedding. I can’t even tell if this is my body anymore. And then, there will be a few nights of peace, but after the silence, it’s back to war. Back to starving and surviving mind games over and over again. I’m so sick of this. I just want to turn back the dial and restart. When did it go wrong? I know the answer to that question, but I ask it anyways. She hears me and tells me not to dawdle on the past. But without the past, we wouldn’t be who we are. I dream about the future, but anxiety takes over. I try to live in the present, but all I’m getting is red glares. I would like to ask her: Why still be friends when we’ve already killed each other? She probably wouldn’t say a thing, because she’s already moved on. She’s too proud to mingle with peasants. She has to be the high queen in everything. A know it all. Controlling. And then, I let the karma and bad omens come. And it eats away at her like no tomorrow. I smile and I back away in horror as the hex takes flight of everything around her. I’ve created monsters from shooting stars. Demons that play on emotions. Demented shadows that seize the most powerful. I still feel as though she doesn’t give a shit about me anymore, but to hate her this much… I must love her a lot, too much, out of my fucking mind, or all of the above. And yet, the sunrises. And we set sail again. I don’t know where to or how, but we’re still together somehow…


dumb ass loaf of bread

dumb ass loaf of bread

harpoonataventure:

My Summer of Love (2004)

so-personal:

everything personal

so-personal:

everything personal