Suburban Distrubance

if not in this life

2008-06-26T04:23:00.000-07:00

than the next.

It's always been my way to be over analytical and pick at things that are bothering me. I feel like I've opened a brand new door leading to exciting new possibilities now that I've made another of my 'moves'. A friend of mine told me that both she and I were the type of people that were meant to be 'free'. I totally and whole-heartedly back up her observation. I've undoubtedly opened Pandora's box and have found within multitudes of her best shit. Frankly, it was due time for this occurrence to pass. Had I held my breath and wished for my dreams and aspirations to realize themselves--I'd've passed blue in the face and none the smarter.

I let good things pass me by because I've always doubted my abilities and motivations to see things through. I've always pondered if I was a lethargic overachiever or a highly capable half-wit. I've found that I am content being neither. We all pass through life floating over our human conditions, too timid, too frightened of the possibility that we can be greater than what others expect us to be. So hah! you non-believers and doubters and naysayers and other troublesome like. A big 'told-you-so' to the ones who thought so lowly of me--a big fuck you, forget about you. I have climbed over the dead shells of my unrealized dreams past and have rightfully found my way to the realms of self-realization. Yay me!

battle armor

2008-05-23T23:50:00.000-07:00

sometimes, i download obscure indie playlists, upload them onto my nano and at the times when i feel as if i need to be in full-body battle armor--listen to them.

i'm always pleasantly surprised.

fight

2008-05-12T11:00:00.000-07:00

We are Christia’s sporadic thoughts. We bombard her with short dreams.
I am Christia’s vessel of secrets. I carry her and everyone else’s secrets.
She accepts them as her own.
I am Christia’s broken spirit. She picks up the pieces as she goes.
I am Christia’s wounded ego. She sprinkles salt on me to keep me strong.
I am Christia’s longing heart. I am in perpetual withdrawal.
We are Christia’s undergarments. We hide the would-be realizations she doesn’t have the comprehension for.
I am Christia’s will. F it.

betcha can't guess

2008-05-10T22:40:00.001-07:00

where i am right now.

it's official

2008-05-09T09:56:00.000-07:00

the proverbial shit has hit the proverbial fan. i've tried to cut off from them emotionally. i've tried to ignore all of the verbal abuse that's been thrust upon me. i want to detach myself from this reality and venture out again into that fantasy world i've become so attached to--where all is lovely and pretension and second-guessing one's self is non-existent.

it was so much more easier than before i began to be bombarded with the realities of young adult life. i never realized how difficult or incomprehensible the process of 'growing up' was. i would always scoff at those 'out to find myself' hippie-dippie types. i want to be one of those types. i want to escape from this prison of the heart and explore the depths of my soul. i want to know what will be left after i strip all of these iron-clad layers i've made myself.

i want to be the girl that backpacked through europe. i want to be the girl that wins the lotto and donates it all to charity and international relief funds. i want to be the girl that breaks into a animal testing facility that let all of the test subjects loose. i want to be the girl that joined the peace corps and helped malnourished children in developing countries. i want to be that outspoken girl that knows what she wants and voices her wants out. i want to be the girl that lived like the salt of the earth. i want to be the daughter that my family wanted me to be.

almost done//work in progress

2008-05-07T08:33:00.001-07:00

Untitled

request for lyrics

unrequited love?

2008-04-30T09:30:00.000-07:00

I only speak about you in hushed tones. I liked keeping you a secret because it helped to remind me of the feelings I feel for you. I let you loose and now all I can think about is your pale skin and the Zimbabwe-esque things you'd do. It's the worst palpable pain I can think of--to reminisce.

I think my problem is that I love too deeply. I love too fully. I miss you. Is it wrong to still desire what your mind has to offer me still? You still hypnotize me with your words. You can manipulate this situation. Because I'll let you. I've always thought that love was just a game fools played with during their empty time. I don't have much time but I want to spend it with you, only with you. Live for me again. I need to be adored and to be lulled into that familiar sense of contentment you give me. Make me yours once more, before all is lost and nothing is left to rekindle. Please don't douse this flame. Burn again.

I used to be afraid,
but now I crave the quiet
Together we are both alone,
but I don’t mind
I’ll dream of something--
to try and make us all right

heat wave

2008-04-28T16:03:00.000-07:00

i am a sticky bun

f was i thinking?

2008-04-26T19:46:00.000-07:00

I spent 500 dollars in 1 month.

I am seriously broke.

I want to blame Bush.
ugh. stupid economy.

the quiet before the storm

2008-04-24T21:43:00.000-07:00

reunited--and it feels so good!

new moves, new grooves but old feelings.
welcome back, best friend!

paro is baaaaaaaaaaack

empty time & the sublime

2008-04-24T10:06:00.000-07:00

I don't like wasting me time--it's costly and tedious to recover.
Give me your everything and I'll let go.

*different thoughts all together

I WANNA BE LOVED. I WANNA BE ADORED. I WANNA MAKE SOMEONE CRAZY OVER ME.

where the gentlemen at?
send your résumés

iAnguish

2008-04-23T11:34:00.000-07:00

Damn, son. I is SO sad.
I was readying myself for some soothing pre-slumber sleepy playlists on my nano [3G] only to find that all of my songs (and artwork) are GONE. GONE. GONE. I was cursing and thrusting(flailing?) my arms in the air my mouth agape in a perfect 'O' of rage/sorrow. All of my wonderous songs were taken away from me.

I know muchachos, que triste. Pero amira, there's a catch. Mande?, you ask? After 5 hours of working on the ipod (over the course of 2 gruelling days filled with tummy aches, fainting spells and sickkkkkage) all the songs come back. ALL. ALL. ALL. But I already replaced most of them again...So now I have ugly duplicates that I must eradicate from Pistachio.

DAMN YOU T-PAIN!

commencement of the culmination

2008-04-22T08:13:00.000-07:00

" I've known you like a siren song that warns
I've been informed you could be the death of me "
(thanks n. atkins)

the day starts anew (like it always has), but today is especially special to me. the process of reaching new realizations is a prickly, long-winded one. it takes time, patience, and a level of understanding--things i have very little or nothing at all of. waking dreams are my way of sorting out things trapped beneath my subconscious thinking.

i awoke to the sounds of an ambulance siren blaring.

dreams are dreams but their scary realism spooks me. their messages arguably valid--but they speak to me. am i going to let myself devolve into a bitter monster? the garish truth is hitting me over the head but i refuse to acknowledge its existence. the fruits of my labor are rotten and smell of mold and decay. unspoken words are left to wonder aimlessly in the confinements of my mind. this tension is so heavy--this clouded judgment thick enough to cut with any fine blade.

fuck you, friend.

a brighter discontent

2008-04-21T10:13:00.000-07:00

Even if there are dark clouds looming over this 18th horizon--the sun is on rebound.

This salty sea will not swallow me!

Shakespeare hates my poems

2008-04-20T17:34:00.000-07:00

In this fast-paced world, nothing waits for you.

.
.
.

The power- of my youth explodes
when the abandoned roar- sounds.
Methinks the scandal- might erode,
after I thrash your freshness,
and smear-the icing 'round.

When the orients talk- in hushed tones
and- the monks use the third,
a chantin'- groan and drone.
You seek the image- of a friend
a furlong away- at most.

One- Three Three- Seven,
one- to be revered,
nothing left to be- desired.
Pondering retort- for dopema-ma
yet again- aspire.

When a man- saunters- on his nubbins,
your whinges faint- il-legit.
You skimp him once- twice.
Though- 'our wages left finite.

Kohl- to cross the luggag-es,
petty cash for 'our 'troubles'.
Zeros and ones in a crypt-ic code,
make a three-point turn.
The power- of my youth explodes.

are you my babydaddy??

A quirky, light-hearted dramedy...

2008-04-17T20:10:00.000-07:00

No, that is not an allusion to the movie Juno. The title which I so affectionately chose is [loosely] based on the true story of a day in the life. Lately, through the nightly(more like 3-4 times a week) calls I've been having, I've come to the slow realization that many problems have been coalescing into one big stanky mess. It all had to implode at the same approximate time. Truly tragic in every context of the word. The house of cards has met a strong pale of wind and has tumbled floated down to the horizon.

And yet I muse, 5 more weeks until the release from this prison of the mind! Soon, the songbirds of yesteryesteryesteryear will rejoice my return. Then gloom and doom, reality hits me full force--my doe eyes come to the realization that I've unfinished business to attend to. I've loose ends that need snipping. I don't mean to gripe about the current status of his and my relationship (I can see that it too is getting to be as old and as tired as I feel) but it is like diarrhea of the mouth!

I always try to avoid my melodramatic tendencies, yet it's always this damned annoying sore that I return my thoughts to. In retrospect, I was acting rash. I was acting impulsively. But I was angry as hell as well. Hell hath no fury like a woman scored. Albeit without romantic undertone. I succumbed to the urge to make that infamous voice message. I would not change a thing; not a word, not a staggered breath, not a lonesome salty tear.

I was trying to force his hand into telling me why he was treating me so unfairly. I pride myself on being an exceptional friend and it pains me when someone is not returning the favor. It is doubly insulting when you feel that you've been lied to and the truth circumvented under your nose on tip-toe. It not only speaks of how lowly they must think of your thought processes but how they perceive your friendship as well. As a throw-away, fair-weather animal you've both fooled yourselves into believing was not rabid and not in need of putting down.

Still I muse again, it is not too late to refasten these ties and rebuild this house of cards anew.