Verbal Starvation

My mind won’t allow my mouth

the words it hungers to speak

My eyes are cages,

the world gets locked inside

Love is starved to bare bones,

and isolation thrives.

One cannot simply emaciate

Mutism.

Summer’s Death Throes.

Oh, hey there.

My least favorite season is here! I’m currently sitting in the basement because my mom has taken over my bedroom… This morning she literally took every single object out of the room and made me go through it all. Needless to say, the entire upstairs of my house looks like it has been ravaged by a tornado.

So, anyway, what have I been doing everyday in this wonderful season of summer?
The answer: desperately seeking employment. I’ve been parading all over town(s) in heels and a dress, handing in applications and resumes. Not even kidding, but the only thing my mother allows me to do nowadays is to go job hunting! News flash: it’s not the seventies anymore. Sorry I can’t just become a paperboy, or deliver milk to peoples’ doorsteps. Yeesh…
It’s so freaking hard to land a job. It doesn’t help that everyone thinks I’m too darn shy/quiet to talk to their customers, either. Sigh.

What else is going on? I can’t stop thinking of J. That evening in April when I crawled into his friend’s truck and we just drove off. The tiny air freshener with an angel printed on it, that read, “Wherever you go, whatever you do, there’s an angel watching you.”
Creepy, but mostly ironic. (I suppose I could sum up my life in those four words! Haha.)
But the point is, J. is giving me the silent treatment. Boo. I’d almost rather him flat out reject me than ignore me. Almost.

What else is happening with me? I’m in what I call, an “Art Funk.” As you may already know, I love the visual arts, especially drawing. But I keep failing at it! Attempted art piece after attempted art piece, I screw up.
Answer me this: why is art just so freaking difficult?

So, yeah. What else is up? I can’t think of anything off the top of my head, at this moment…

I hate to wish time away, but, college really can’t come soon enough…

Porcelain Dolls.

 ”I still haven’t been released from the words and numbers that sneak up and stab me, hurt me when I think about eating. But I’m learning. I have to start all over again. It may not come in one day, maybe just gradually. Some days I let it in, through a smile, a laugh, a hug… I will awaken in my own time.”

Those were Camille’s final words before the black-out.

“Camille” and “Jeny” are my characters. I’ve “known” them for a long time, seemingly. A year ago, for a Dramatic Literature assignment, I got to write their untold story in a one-act play.

I feel blessed.

Before I began writing, all I really knew was that I wanted my work to peer into the strife and havoc of suffering from an eating disorder.

But I was scared.

And I was reluctant to begin writing, because I didn’t want to enter that world. I tip-toed gingerly around Jeny’s pain, and especially Camille’s. Camille was a “sufferer in silence.” Camille was “invisible” next to Jeny.

“Everyone treats me like I’m nothing, as if all I am, is Jeny’s pitiful shadow. Jeny was an absolute roller coaster, a ride that led me to this. No, no, I don’t blame her for my problems. But I could have been someone on my own...”

But finally I set my fear to the side, and I let Jeny and Camille speak to me. I let my own personal demons speak to me. And I just want to say, it was healing. Writing the play healed me far more than it hurt me.

I didn’t hold back. I wrote about eating disorders, and I wrote about self-injury. Originally, I didn’t intend for the play to be so open about cutting. I wanted to subtly hint at the fact that Jeny and Camille purposely hurt themselves to deal with their emotional pain. But the issue of self-harm was on the forefront of my mind, so… I let loose.

My body stays still, but my mind runs in circles all the time.
My body stays still, and it bleeds to feel something I can understand.
I tried to gather my words, but they were broken, shoddy, and cheap.
They left me empty, till I realized, my body too could weep.

The issues of eating disorders and self-injury will always “set my heart ablaze.”

I am impassioned, but, it gives me a little bit of peace knowing that two girls named Jeny and Camille were given a voice. (As was I.) My play, entitled Porcelain Dolls, was performed exactly a week ago at my high school.

I feel so fortunate to have had this opportunity… Jeny and Camille were portrayed flawlessly by two talented aspiring actresses at my school, that I picked for the roles. (It’s eerie, almost, how much they truly were Jeny and Camille. The fictional characters that I envisioned over a year ago came alive on the stage, thanks to their acting talent.)

So… I just wanted to share that with the two of you that actually read this blog… I could probably write on and on about Porcelain Dolls, but no one really wants to hear me blather…

But anyway. I will always treasure the memory of my first play… It’s a sweet way to end my senior year.
And maybe I’m not completely done with Porcelain Dolls, who knows. The staff at my school is trying to fit in an encore performance in front of the whole high school before the year end, but at this point it may not be possible. But maybe at the start of next year?

My hope is that this snippet of a play could give a small bit of healing to someone who needs it. Maybe it already has. I know it’s certainly helped to heal me…

My play is just a small accomplishment. But I treasure it, nonetheless.

I hope that this is not the end, but just the beginning.

Stay strong everyone.
Much love.

Welcome to my Sunday Afternoon.

1.) I’m having one of those days. I pretty much can’t stand myself right now.
I feel so fat
ugly
untalented

2.) I’ve been looking for a job this weekend. And I’m just going to get real right now. I’m not going to get hired.
I have no-
connections
legitimate work experience
good external physique
personality

…So, I mean, why wouldn’t you hire me?

3.) Demi Lovato breaks my heart. No one should have to deal with what she’s suffered through. How come someone as beautiful as she is, has to battle with internal demons every day?

I wish that she could find happiness. But of course, I understand that it’s not that simple.

4.) This is so incredibly insignificant, but, I really want to sing a song for my school’s talent show. But it’s called a talent show for a reason. And I’m simply not good enough.
I hate this realization.

5.) I’m sorry that I’m negative today. I’m just sad. Over stupid things.

Which makes me feel worse.

Awesome.

A Life Without Facebook.

I deactivated my Facebook account yesterday.

I created a Facebook  account almost four years ago, (September 17th, 2008, to be exact), my freshman year. I’ve gone on Facebook almost single day since that date…I’ve probably only missed about eight days, scattered throughout those four years.

This is going to be so weird.

I never imagined I would actually do this.
When I woke up yesterday morning, I had no earthly idea that I would go to bed that night sans a Facebook. But I did.

Do you want to know my reasons?

1.) I’m tired of people removing me from their Friends lists. (So much so, that I said, to Hell with it.)
2.) I want to use my time more wisely. Without Facebook, I might have more time to actually be productive.
3.) I’ll have more time to spend in the WordPress blogging world with you fine people!
4.) I wanted to do something radical.
5.) The idea of deleting my Facebook felt absolutely liberating.

…Need I say more?

Playing with pencils.

Today I finished a new drawing. This one was a bit challenging, but mostly it was fun. I spent over two hours in the Commons of my high school, drawing away. (I had a free block, continued working through lunch, and then I finally completed it in art class.)

Here’s a portion of it:

Her eyes, up close.

"I found I could say things with colors and shapes that I couldn't say in any other way- things that I had no words for." - Georgia O' Keeffe

Sorry that the photographs aren’t the greatest.

I’m really new to using colored pencils (as you can probably tell,) but I have so much fun with them. I love to play with color. And besides, I will only improve with practice, right?

“2012, Son” (It’s finally here.)

I don’t believe in New Year’s resolutions.  Every single day is a chance to start anew.

I can’t believe twenty-twelve is finally here.

At my school, my class’s tag line is 2012, Son. I’m not entirely sure what it means. But it’s our slogan, for the year we have been waiting for!

'12

Winter Blues.

I’m sad. And I don’t know why. I’ve felt this way since finals ended. It’s just weird, because I should be happy.

Maybe it’s because all of the commotion is over, and now it’s just so… QUIET.

My heart hurts.

I have a line from the song, “Leave the Pieces” by The Wreckers, stuck in my head. And it’s alright, yeah I’ll be fine, don’t worry about this heart of mine… Just take your love and hit the road…

Um, I don’t know what else to say. I’m sorry that this post was pretty pointless, though I must say, it cheers me up a little to blog.

What helps cheer you up? Please feel free to leave a comment, if you have nothing better to do…or you’re procrastinating on all that you have better to do…

 

End-of-Semester-Madness and Anne Frank

I’m off for the winter break. Alas, the madness is over for now (or so I hope.)
These past three weeks have been ridiculous. For awhile there, I believed that it was the beginning of my crack-up. But no, it’s not quite time for that, yet.
So, here I am, writing a new post. Yay.
…But for real, yay. I should be happy because I have been given a new day, oxygen to breathe, a heart that beats, all of my limbs, a bed that I’m sitting on at the moment, a roof over my head.
It’s a good day.
So, I’m not going to complain about the madness of these past few weeks. In the eloquent words of Anne Frank, “I don’t think of all the misery, but of the beauty that still remains.” (I found that quote yesterday and loved it. Anne Frank amazes me…)
(Disclaimer: I am in no way comparing my life struggles to Anne Frank’s. I just like the quote.)

Anyway, it’s winter break and finals are over, so I have more spare time! I have a couple of art projects that I need to work on. One in particular is my Sylvia Plath drawing. I’m almost done with it and I’ll probably post a photo when it’s complete.
I’ve just started work on a new writing project, too. It’s basically Camille’s back story. (Camille is one of my two characters in my attempted one-act that I wrote last spring.) Wish me luck with that… (I hope I didn’t just jinx myself by blogging about it.) Anyway, if anyone is remotely interested, maybe I could post an excerpt from the story, one day? All you have to do is ask.

Well, I suppose I will conclude this with another quote from the incredible Anne Frank:

“I keep my ideals, because in spite of everything I still believe that people are really good at heart.”

(Gotta love Anne Frank…)

 

 

 

 

You Little Tease.

When all is said and done,
(as it is now)
you drag out the silence.

Well, you’ve seen it all and you’re full to the brim. Sitting fat and happy.

Your carnal desires have finished me off, now it’s just time to wait to die.

I hope you know you left me empty.

Boys will get what they want, and they’ll take what they take.
(I was your table scraps.)

I’m sorry I’m not her.
She was always your first-time indulgence, wasn’t she?
I’m surprised that you remember back to your pre-teenage glory.

But I suppose I got everything written in the contract.
(Girls that play with fire, get their fingers burned.)

Still, I call you a glutton.

Keep stealing.