Cold: Wasted Years

There's a game life plays
makes you think you're everything they ever said you were
Like to take some time
Clear away everything I planned
Was it life I betrayed
for the shape that I'm in?
It's not hard to fail
it's not easy to win
did I drink too much?
could I disappear?
and there's nothing that's left but wasted years
There's nothing left but wasted years
If I could change my life
Be a simple kind of man
try to do the best I can
if I could see the signs
I'd derail every path I could now
I'm about to die
won't you clear away from me
give me strength to fly away
Was it life I betrayed
for the shape that I'm in?
It's not hard to fail
It's not easy to win
Did I drink too much?
Could I disappear?
There's nothing left but wasted years
There's nothing left but wasted years
Nothing but wasted years

34 days until Family Values Tour 2006!

"I want to be a writer! I want to be someone famous."

"But writers don't have two nickels to rub together."

"I don't care! I still want to be famous. Why does this world always have to go around on money?"

"Because both are an illusion. Just as love and heartbreak are illusions."

"Then why do illusions feel so strong? Or hurt so bad?"

"Life is an illusion. The pain you endure, the love you experience: none of it is real. Feelings are illusions."

"What is real? Please tell me there is something real."

"Happiness , my darling. Happiness is real because no one living can experience real honest happiness. It is not a part of life. You might say that life and happiness are opposites."

"Then what is the point to life? Would it not be smartest to end it now and move on to reality and happiness?"

"How wise of you to believe that after life is the reality. You have hope, and that is good. Some people may have believed that the reality has passed: but no. True happiness is yet to come. The point to life is to prove that you are worthy of happiness. You, and all of us, must prove that we have the desire and appreciation for happiness. We all are kept here until we have proved this, but your time can run out if you are not careful. We are all allowed a certain time to prove ourselves, and you must complete the task by your personal deadline."

"Then I beg of you, tell me what my task is."

"I can not do that. There is only one who can answer your questions. You must look to Him and trust in Him completely. This is how you prove yourself. There is only one way, and you must desire happiness."

"But I want to be a writer..."

"Listen to me," he took ahold of her frail shoulders,
"You must desire happiness."

Yeah pretzels!

I am hot and sweaty and stinky and I have sores on the sides of my feet. I love this feeling. I have to get up at 5:30 tomorrow morning. I can't wait. I love horse shows, and I know I'll have a great time.

Georgia was wonderful, in case you were wondering. I was so happy, except for the last night when I remembered that I had to go home in the morning. The plane trip back was only one hour and twenty-six minutes! And no, there were no delays. I actually arrived at the gate just as they started to board. I got my fill of "The Life" laying out at the pool and eating out. I even got to taste Chick Filet's famous chicken. And Zaxby's. Why is chicken so popular down there?

I really feel kinda confused. What else is new, right? I feel so insignificant, like there is nothing I can do to change the course of events that starts me rolling down a mountainside with no brakes. Or someone else....

Emmiline told me that I have friends. Well, actually, I told her that I have no friends, and she pointed it out for me. I don't like her. I'm sure she's a wonderful person, I just don't get along with her that well. I resent the fact that I have no friends. I'm going to see a movie by myself tomorrow night. Maybe I'll go with my imaginary bunny friend. Maybe I'll call him Frank.

Savvy?

I am, today, forty dollars richer. That is, in U.S. currency. I would have gladly taken half, or even the whole of it in chocolate. Oh, and maybe a Pink Floyd CD. But despite all of this prosperity, I smell like burning Blue Spruce and newspaper and sap is splotched randomly along my arms and the shirt I have yet refused to change out of. It's about 85 outside, and I am an hour's past a mile walk home. This walk was not terribly enjoyable, what with the traffic and the neighbor's rotten dogs, but it was the relief upon arriving home that I am now content with. I am counting the hours until I board the plane. I am bound and determined to spend my hard earned forty on Starbucks cappiccino and chocolate. I am praying for delays. I will remember to take my new ring with me. And my blue fuzzy pellow. (no, it really is pellow) If the plane decides to take a wrong turn towards Machu Pichu, that would be fine with me, just warn me long enough in advance to pick up enough chocolate to live on till the next flight out. Cheers, mates!

Nickelback: Savin' Me

Prison gates won't open up for me
On these hands and knees I'm crawlin'
Oh, I reach for you
Well I'm terrified of these four walls
These iron bars can't hold my soul in
All I need is you
Come please I'm callin'
And oh I scream for you
Hurry I'm fallin', I'm fallin'

Show me what it's like
To be the last one standing
And teach me wrong from right
And I'll show you what I can be
Say it for me
Say it to me
And I'll leave this life behind me
Say it if it's worth saving me

Heaven's gates won't open up for me
With these broken wings I'm fallin'
And all I see is you
These city walls ain't got no love for me
I'm on the ledge of the eighteenth story
And oh I scream for you
Come please I'm callin'
And all I need from you
Hurry I'm fallin', I'm fallin'

My finger hurts. My right hip hurts. My left thigh hurts. My head hurts. My feet hurt. My lips hurt. My arm hurts. My back hurts.

But most of all, my heart hurts. What joy it would bring to have a free and happy heart. What joy to be free of guilt. To spread my wings and breathe in the air of real happiness. I have this picture in my mind, but the throbbing pain in my body drives me to distraction.

I really don't care to be happy if it requires that I leave my friends behind. They need me. And the calm saddness of the familiar is so much easier to fall asleep with than the thought of leaving someone -anyone- behind to rot in the wasteland alone.

I wish someone could convince me otherwise.

I wish someone could make me believe -not just tell me- that life is worth living.

Rammstein: Klavier

Lyrics ©1997 Rammstein.

Unofficial Translation ©2006 Jeremy Williams.
They tell me
unlock this door
curiosity becomes a scream
what could be behind it
behind this door
stands a piano
the keys are dusty
the strings are out of tune
behind this door
she sits at the piano
but she doesn't play anymore
oh, that was so long ago
There, at the piano
I listened to her
and when her performance began I held my breath
She said to me
I'll always stay with you
but it only seemed
that she played for me alone
I poured her blood
into the fire of my rage
I locked the door
they asked for her
There, at the piano
I listened to her
and when her performance began
I held my breath
There, at the piano
I stood beside her
it seemed
she played for me alone
The door is open
oh, how they scream
I hear mother pleading
father is beating me
they take her from the piano
and no one believes me here
that I am deathly ill
from sorrow and the stench
There, at the piano
I listened to her
and when her performance began
I held my breath
There, at the piano
she listened to me
and when my performance began
she held her breath

I JUST WANNA KNOW WHO'S DRIVIN' A BLACK MITSUBISHI!

This is for you.
This is for all the underprivileged.
For anyone who has not been appreciated today,
No matter how much you put in.

You are not forgotten.
No,
It is not I who remembers you.
There is one greater than anything
And anyone.
He is greater than you,
....Yet He would give up his everything to save you.

He remembers you today.
He appreciates you today.
He listens to your every thought,
Word,
Plea.
He loves you.

Without having to say it;
God bless you.

The sunset.
The waves.
The sand.
The stones.
The shells.
The driftwood.
The sailboats.
Even the breeze.
A painter can paint these things.
But can I,
Only a writer of my own enjoyment,
Can I paint these feelings,
These things,

With words?

I now know that there is one thing I can not paint with my words.

It is the lone figure who sits on the sand,

who walks in the waves, and

who lives of the sunset.

This, no one can do,

for no mind,

whether of a painter of a writer,

can do another justice.

*Rough Draft*

Lieing in this oval space,
Somewhat too small, but
Somehow just right.

A tingling line,
Level but wavering,
Encircles my body.
The surface drawing this line.

Below, is part of me,
Submerged in the pressing mass.
Above is reality,
And the part of me which rises to the top.

But here is my favorite part:
My toes grasp the lever
As best they can.
My soothed muscles sink their
Weight down.
Silent.
Subtle.

Sublimely,
The water of my bath escapes me.
Down the drain as my toes
Bid it farewell.

*I have re-discovered the enjoyment of a bath. I will submerge myself more often*

Would you do anything just to see me smile?

What does a girl do when she has lost her best friend? All her friends?
For three years she's been there. I'm not quite certain of when I lost who she was. But now she is completely gone from my life, it seems. Just 15 miles away. I could drive there in that many minutes, but I can't. I can't go back and live that life; buy into that pain. I can't be the backbone or the strength for the two of us. Lost, bruised, broken hearts can not lean on each other. I really don't have that strength, not the strength to change both of us.
But what do I do in the meantime?
Make myself throw up, not eat for 48 hours, eat a pint of (really bad) ice cream.
Call my parents and my brother, let the line hang with nothing to say.
Refuse a hug, a touch, a kiss. Crave one immensely.
Get a therapist.
Above all: Cry.
Sob.
Choke on my tears.
Weep behind swollen eyes.

I wish.
I wish with a thousand words
And with tears like rain.
I wish.
I wish in vain.

I break.
I break because of those whom I love
And in the hands of my friend.
I break,

But I do not bend.

I dream.
I once dreamed,
I think,
But I don't remember.

I drink.
I drink to my sorrow.
Sober-I can not release this pain
These dreams and
Wishes.
And so I break and drink.

She loves him dearly,
She loves him deeply.
She loves him truly,
She loves him surely.
Could I love him the same?

She loved him first,
He'll love her always.
She'll leave him soon,
He'll run to me.

He'll see her in me,
He'll love that part of me.
I'll give him what she never did,
He'll love her more.

She builds him up,
She tears him down.
I'll catch him falling,
He'll pull me down.

Dr. Dre featuring Xzibit: What's the Difference

"What's the difference between me and you? About 5 bank accounts, 3 ounces and 2 vehicles"

What is the difference between me and you? Are we-all of us humans-really that different from each other? Do these differences group in material things like bank accounts and vehicles? This could in turn affect how we live out lives. Would we all be so freaking, boring, plain-old-the-same if everyone had the same amount of concrete possesions?
Or do our differences come from who we are inside? So-and-so is the most faithful of the guys I know, but whats-his-name knows what respect is. Is who we are so important? Can we control who we are?

I've done it.
I've walked away and said
"You disapoint me."
Because you do.
Every ounce of hope for you
Is gone.
It has been bled out of me by
The love of others
or
The rejection by you.
I'm not sure which.
But you are gone.
"You disapoint me."
I no longer love you.
I no longer care about you.
You are gone
And this is my last good-bye.
My life is rid of you.
Don't bother to turn and face me.
I wouldn't know who you are.
"You fucking disapoint me."

'Cause we all just wanna be big rockstars
And live in hilltop houses driving fifteen cars
The girls come easy and the drugs come cheap
We'll all stay skinny 'cause we just won't eat
And we'll hang out in the coolest bars
In the VIP with the movie stars
Every good gold digger's
Gonna wind up there
Every Playboy bunny
With her bleach blond hair

• 2006 Bugatti Veyron 16.4
• 2005 Saleen S7 Twin Turbo
• 2006 Ford GT
• Lamborghini Muira (concept)
• 2006 Dodge Magnum SRT 8 in Black
• 2006 BMW M3 coupe
• 1993 Mustang Cobra hardtop in Red
• 2003 Supercharged Mustang Cobra hardtop in Gunmetal Grey
• 2006 Ford Puma
• 2004 Mercury Marauder in Black
• 1966 Shelby AC Cobra in Blue with White racing stripes
• 2006 Porche Carrera GT
• Toyota Alessandro Volta (concept)
• 1998 Mustang GT convertable in triple Black
• 1997 Ford Taurus SHO in Ebony (got it: my baby)