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Saturday, November 5, 2011

Laying it all out before I ruin it again.


To Whom It May Concern:

Please understand that ever since ‘that incident,’ (And I’m sure you know which one I speak about) my only motivation was one thing. Yes, I hurt many people along the way, including you, but I don’t regret trying to achieve my goal. What I do regret was that you had to be part of my casualties (but not the only, regretfully). I was tired of waiting for something to happen. I was tired of getting hurt by those who said they would never hurt me. But most of all, I was tired of crying about my situation and crying harder when it didn’t fix itself. My only motivation, as of lately, have been my own happiness. And though I felt I could have gone about it better, I didn’t. Instead, I treated you like a child that didn’t know any better than to just listen to me. I want to say now, yes, I care about you. However, it is not the kind of care/affection from which you so want from me. I used to be able to see such a clear picture of us together, that picture got so muddy…

I wanted to write this so that you couldn’t interrupt me, because I am truly sorry. I wish things had gone differently, but they didn’t. I know you think that this was some revenge plot orchestrated and motivated by my bitterness. No, this was a confused and scared girl, not sure who she should reach out to, and I’m soo, soo sorry I hurt you. I’m not asking for any forgiveness but I am asking that you take care of yourself.

Goodbye(For Now?)
-Goodolfun

Thursday, February 24, 2011

10 V-312.2

Your lying eyes made me cry.
I felt so ashamed of myself.

I told my insecurities to go away,
Convinced that you loved me.

You said “I can’t do this anymore.”
Strange how I didn’t cry until after the fuck.

I said “We’re just going through a rough patch.”
Strange how you held me like you still cared.

Your boredom broke my heart.
And your words shattered the rest.

Poem about Z.S.
-Good ol' Fun

Rant. More to Follow.

I'm tired. I let myself get too open, too vulnerable. They(being my two best friends) tell me that I'm too guarded. Then I let my walls down, I let someone in. And crash...boom! I'm in bed for days because I wasn't good enough to hold on to. Won't I ever be enough?

Outward I give the appearance of being so confident but I'm not. Every minute of my days are spent analyzing everything I do hoping I did things right. I've even spent the last 2 hours pouring over what I said on the phone to him....

So here I am, broken, again, I went straight to my room, got in my pj's and cried. I hate that I let myself believe that everything was going to work out. I hate that I can't just drive over and change his mind. I hate that I let my happiness get so dependent on someone other than myself. And I was happy, so happy.

I didn't care that I only got one random text from you a day. I smiled the minute I saw your name on my phone. I don't care that you barely make enough to pay rent and maybe hang out once a month. I wanted to help you find that other job and that one day a month always made me excited to see you. I don't care that you put me second to your band. I like that you're in a band, I love that you're that dedicated to your music, plus you come second to school for me, so I really don't see the issue. And if there's an issue with how I feel about you, I'm falling for you. (I was) scared as hell at first because of the whole getting my heart ripped out multiple time in the past, but with you, I feel so comfortable. And though I just made this post public for everyone in the world to see, I hope you don't read this. Because I don't want you to view me as some pathetic girl who pines over the guy she really likes. Please don't let us be over yet, because I think that this feels wrong and I think you feel that too. Mwah and such.....

Damn You.

Damn you for making me care.
Damn you for making me vulnerable.
Damn you for making me cry.
Damn you for letting me hope.
Damn you for making me like you.
But most of all, damn you for making me fall.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Sector Five. Chapter One

The heel of her shoe punched through his skull rather easily. Then again, she had custom ordered steel-heeled stilettos just for the occasion. A gurgle escaped Aaron’s mouth, breaking the silence that had descended upon the room. He fell to his knees, a muffled crack coming from his legs as he hit the floor. His unfocused eyes found hers, green fury and devoid of tears.

“Becky…Why?” She scoffed.
“I’m tired of being the wife of a dead-beat. And with divorce being outlawed, killing you was my only option. Don’t worry about me babe, your life insurance will be just enough for me to live comfortably for a very long time.” But he didn’t hear her, he was already dead. She shrugged in disbelief.

“Figures he wouldn’t stay conscious long enough to let me finish.” She moved to his body and detached the heel from the shoe in his skull. It looked like a normal knife jutting out of his head.
Chris was an artist when it came to weapons.

Becky quickly moved across the room where she had laid plastic sheeting on the floor. She quickly took off all her clothes, including the remaining stiletto that had a normal wood heel painted to look like a blade. Pulling on some jogging shorts and an old t-shirt, she hauled everything over to a large painting on the wall. She grasped the bottom right of the painting and pulled. It swung open to reveal a small door with a digital panel next to it.  She opened the door and pushed everything in, including the plastic. Closing the door she hummed a jolly tune. She pressed the red button on the panel, all the lights blinked on and a cool female voice spoke.

“Hello Mrs. Dalton. Laundry again today?”

“Yes Evy. New commands today though.”

“Of course Mrs. Dalton, what can I do today?”

“Bleach wash, followed by incineration, followed by another bleach wash. Then disposal of everything and a sterilization of the inside of the chute.”  A few clicks and beeps were heard and the sound of running liquid followed.

“Anything else Mrs. Dalton?”

“Erase memory of this program after this wash.”

“Yes, Mrs. Dalton.”

Becky swung the door closed and turned back to look at Aaron. His body was slumped backwards leaning against their bed, her bed. She walked out of the room, she really wanted a cup of tea.

-Good ol' Fun

Friday, February 4, 2011

Rant Blog; Star Date 6:13: 242011

I can't sleep.
And the stupid 'A' key on my keyboard is squeaky. Never-mind it's the shift key.

Man I really want mochi... I'm growing ever frustrated by life putting me on the backburner.It's like I'm an after-thought to everything.... I just finished being a nervous wreck and anti-social, I don't need it anymore. But my stupid anxieties and insecurities are still here...keeping me awake...

I think about death a lot. No, I'm not going to go off myself, don't worry. I'm just puzzled. I don't believe in God, and by extension, there is no Hell or Heaven. So what? We're just randomly put here to sufferer each others presence and then we rejoin the planet by breaking down into a slushie of all sorts of disgusting things...
I'm more disturbed by the fact that I'm growing more indifferent to death and all that it entails(and entrails!). I should probably get some sleep in. I have to 'wake up' in four hours.

-Good ol' Fun

Conditional Paradise {Chapter Two}

The television flickered to life. Illuminating a small room with no furniture except a lumpy chair. I sat down.
News Channel. Good.
The camera focused in on the image of a woman in a black blazer. Her lips moved but no sound came out. The volume was too low. I reached for the remote and pressed the button to put up the volume.

"I'm Henrietta Glass coming at you live from Tenoch City. In today's news the recent disappearances of several prominent members of the community have shaken the city. We go live to Julie Andrews who's at the scene of the latest disappearance. Julie?"

The image on the screen changed to a younger woman standing in front of a white house with a red front door.

"Thank you Henrietta. Two hours ago police arrived at the scene after the neighbors reported hearing a smoke alarm going off. The victim this time was 37 year old Allen Porter. He was best known as being the teacher that helped save 20 students during the Tenoch High School fire in April. A wake will be held in honor of Mr. Porter on February 28th at St. Andrew's reception hall. Those with information regarding Mr. Porter's disappearance are urged to call Tenoch P.D. at..."

The television turned off. In the darkness of the room, I chuckled to myself. Time to find more to feed on.

-Good ol' Fun

Conditional Paradise {Chapter One}

My bones were on fire. They were so hot my skin was melting off. The grin on the creature’s face standing across from me chilled my heart.

“Please! Please, spare me!” Its’ grin grew wider, splitting its’ face ear to ear.

“The deal was simple. You find that which you seek or we take your soul. You were given a year. Now we feed.”  

My screams of agony would not be heard by anyone. In the distance I could hear my phone ringing, finally going to voice mail.

“Hey Allen. It’s me. I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have argued over something so stupid. So…yeah…call me back so we can talk. I miss you….” It was Holly. But it was too late. I could only hope that she would find happiness after I was gone. After I had been dragged off by these creatures. Not to Hell though. This was worse, much worse.

I could feel myself burning. But I couldn’t scream anymore; my vocal chords had melted away. The creature’s ugly face would be the last thing I would ever see. But at least I had been able to hear my sweet Holly’s voice one last time….

-Good ol' Fun

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Little Message to a 'Friend'


For all the nightmares that you plagued me with
Burdening my delicate waking mind.
I’m clearly not as important as you say.
Backing my theory is the endless apologies
Annoying me to delirium
But so often I’ll hide in my thoughts
I don’t hurt when I‘m away.

-Good ol' Fun

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Muse

Just the other day, I met a muse in a very odd way. He told me how to save my world from drowning in nonsense. Very good advice I said to him, but how do you save the words from burning?

Ever imagine the way the sky looks when you dream? No, I replied to the muse. Good, said he, you’ll only ever remember the way the floor looks anyways.

Something inside me burned. Words spilled forth from my mind slapping themselves against the paper in front of me. But nothing on the paper made sense. The words were perfect, but the story didn’t exist.

Try to read upside down and backwards, said the muse. I don’t understand how that can change what’s in front of me. It won’t but it’ll make me feel better.

Reading upside down and backwards I listened to the story pouring itself out of the page back into my head.  With a smirk in my direction, the muse put his hat back on. The sky in your dreams doesn’t exist if there is no floor.

Observe the world from a different perspective. That’s what I’ve known all along but just forgotten.

-Good ol' Fun