i'm changing things a bit.
new fonts, new colors,
and new change.
this isn't going to be another blog post with different lyrics explaining how i feel.
this is just me writing about me.
that's all this blog ever was in the first place.
so i think this may be the end.
i sit up in bed, contemplating the summertime, and i think about what to do.
should i call someone, should i watch tv, read a book;
what should i do?
three years ago i would have told myself to paint. to draw.
to make something of what my hands could do.
of what my mind could do.
but instead i turn mush into my mind, and numbness into my fingertips.
i don't do.
i don't do anything that warrants creativity anymore.
and it's so ironic because in less than two months,
i'll be at one of the most diverse and inspirational places,
with a creative writing english major.
what a joke.
what a fallacy.
i'm going to be who i was at fifteen.
at least she made the effort to make color.
someone once told me that i put color into his life.
now i think it's time to do that with myself.
make something right.
the strings are gonna come out.
the acrylic will splatter.
the ink will run.
and the tears will stop.
i'll make a difference this time.
anyway i can.
with color,
with love,
and with light.
i'm graduating in a day.
closer to two, but it doesn't feel as such.
i just feel like i'm going to come back.
that it'll just be another year, and i'll walk these halls with pride.
but no.
i've already had enough days of that.
it's bittersweet, but mostly bitter.
that most of these faces i brush past,
won't ever be in my view again.
it's too soon.
it's too soon to forget all the memories here.
all the drama and hardships and studying and cheating and begging and becoming bored.
all of the learning, the sleeping, the tests, the lectures, the study guides, the rallies, the football games, the productions in the PAC...
i can't believe that i'll miss all of that.
it doesn't even feel real because if it did,
almost a fourth of my life would be gone.
it's crazy.
i don't understand.
every bone in my body stays silent while my nerves circling around them shiver.
shiver with fear.
shiver with anxiety.
they move and convulse because they know there's an ending.
an ending that even i haven't taken all the way in.
all these yearbook signatures with all these heartfelt messages...
sometimes to me they seem fake.
like they're trying to take four years of ignoring you for whatever reason,
and putting an apology like nothing ever mattered.
will i miss people like that?
maybe.
but i am excited to start anew.
a new school, with new people.
the only people i'll miss are friends from other towns.
because they really love me.
in the end, you always miss the people you love.
and the others will just fade away,
like ink when it's wet.
it just drips, staining the ground,
and when the rain comes,
it's gone.
that's what i'll be here.
i'll be gone.
and i'm not sure how many will care,
and it won't matter because i'm not even sure that i will care.
only time will tell.
bye, san ramon.
it's been fun.
here's looking at you, kid
with love and light,
eve morgan
when i listen to Bi and Bp, i never feel crowded.
i never feel fear or contempt or rage or worry.
their voices, Justin and Israel's;
criss-cross and make a melody that could never be copied.
i can't really explain how i feel when i hear them.
it's like the big bang.
exploding into billions and million of pieces,
creating the beauty of the universe.
it's like feeling invisible even when you know that you're making a footprint.
it's like hearing the winds speak to you,
even though all it is is whistling in your ears.
listening to Justin is like listening to the hearts.
and listening to Israel is like listening to the cries of souls.
together, it's like listening to the world,
feeling every single thought;
as if it was your own.
that morning sky just gave me a look
so i left while you were sleeping
that's all it took
and i chalked a line south down the coast
going where my thirst was open
for the things that i don't know
i've never felt like this while just listening.
i usually think there is something to do, or to accomplish,
that i have to move, get on my feet,
walk, run, glide, skip,
ANYTHING.
but no.
all i have to do is close my lids and open my drums.
embrace the silence of myself,
and just hear the melodies of everything else.
"someway, baby, it's a part of me, apart from me"
you're laying waste to Halloween
you fucked it friend, it's on his head, it struck the street
you're in Milwaukee, off your feet
Christmas night, it clutched the light, the hallow bright
above my brother, i and tangled spines
we smoked the screen to make it what it was to be
now to know it in my memory
when pupils adjust to the light,
my back creaks as i sit up.
i breathe, cough, and breathe again.
for a long time, i forget.
i forget how the world is so vast and ominous,
and unimaginably beautiful at the same time.
it shocks me every time i fit headphones into my ears,
every time i walk without fear.
and every time i deafen myself so that i can again see.
so hold high have faint your reasons
(Boy, you'll never get on)
don't you forget you came from nothing
(Boy, you'll never get on)
that wind is calling my name
and i won't wait
or i'll never get on.
...and at once i knew i was not magnificent
high above the highway aisle
(Jagged vacance, thick with ice)
i could see for miles, miles, miles
everything is beautiful.
you just need to cease all the noise;
before you can see.
are your eyes closed?
if so,
then you understand.
with love and light,
eve morgan
i know i haven't been here in a while.
you may think it's because i've forgotten, that i've been too busy, that i just haven't had time to think.
it's that i've had too much time.
i couldn't write because if i did, i'd be afraid of falling.
afraid of falling backwards.
yeah i know it's hard to remember
the people we used to be...
it's even harder to picture,
that you're not here next to me
i remember the summer.
there is no way that i could even handle forgetting.
even though things changed,
it always affects.
i drive down roads in my stupid maternal van,
imagining footsteps slapping against the sidewalk,
laughter ringing throughout the block.
inside my imagination, i don't know what to think.
because another pair of feet appear, like shadows from the sun.
in reality, however, i know what is right and what isn't.
but la scala and "inspiration" get in the way.
i know i'm different than i was.
i can tell from the videos of my somewhat younger face,
smiling and skidding across the screen,
complaining about her important woes.
they seem minuscule now.
at least, i hope they do.
i've wasted my nights
you turned out the lights
now i'm paralyzed,
still stuck in that time,
when we called it love,
but even the sun sets in paradise
too much, yet too little, has changed.
i don't know what to make of it anymore.
that's the fear creeping in.
thoughts of caffeinated beverages and teas.
i would hold the warm brew steadily in my hands,
and when i would take a sip, i would savor the flavor,
and glaze a smile across my face.
when my eyes would open,
the faces i would see would turn that glaze into a grin.
i wish they could be there all at once,
so i would have no more guilt,
but the thing about responsibility is,
is that sometimes you have to break down the bridges that you have built.
if "Happy Ever After"'s did exist
i would still be holding you like this
all those fairytales are full of shit
one more fucking love song, i'll be sick
now i'm at a payphone
i'm beginning to hate this blog.
with love and light,
eve morgan
