Thoughts put into words…

by Katie Lanning (Dreamynothing)

Rough Draft 10/18/2013

Filed under: Writings — dreamynothing @ 08:18

Underneath this pretty face is a story being written. Some days I am hoping that I am only living a rough draft, because the story thus far has not followed my outline. This is not really who I am, and yet it is my very essence spilled out onto chapters and pages. Almost like a faint impression of myself bleeding through the ink; I’ve just somehow gotten caught between the lines.  Underneath all the grammar and punctuation mistakes, I am there.

I know in life there really is no rough draft, only one chance, one try to get things right.  You can’t use an eraser or the backspace button…you can only cross out the mistakes, yet they are still visible, and able to be read.  Our history is always there.  Our past will always haunt us.  My past will always be a story that will need explaining.  But we learn from our mistakes right?  Unless you’re me…I seem to have been able to figure out how to copy and paste and repeat things in my life over and over.  I need to come up with some new material; shake it up a bit.

Maybe I’m just in the part of the book that is never interesting, the part that just drags on and on, yet is still important because the writer is building up the the climax.  Maybe my book will be filled with adventure, romance, and drama.  Maybe I’m really not the main character in this life but a huge supporting character in someone else’s; or maybe I’m just the character that no body remembers.  I just know my life, my story, has to have more meaning than what I have already written out on paper.  I just don’t know how to get started…again.  (writer’s block)  I feel I can do so much more, be so much more, yet, I’m not.

Not yet,

but again…this story is still being written.

I just need to pick up the pen again.

 

Terrified 12/26/2012

Filed under: Writings — dreamynothing @ 20:46

I’m afraid, always scared, always terrified.

I’m scared when you are home.  I’m scared when you are gone.  I’m even scared when you are holding me in your arms, or laying with your body close to mine.  Even your tender kiss upon my lips scares me. Every little gesture that makes me love you more and more, the warmth of your body, the kindness in your eyes, your understanding and patience with me.

It terrifies me.

I can’t focus on and enjoy the fact that you are here with me now, not while continually thinking,,,,knowing that I am not good enough for you anymore.  Each rejection, each little criticism, each time I mess up…just gives me more proof to believe that my fears are no longer irrational.

I am scared.  I am terrified. To ever see this story end.  I am scared of what will happen to me; of what will happen to my heart.  I am still holding onto hope tho of course that this story will prevail, And that I am once again wrong.

But I am scared to be close to you; and I’m scared to love you, because I’m terrified to lose you. Because losing you, terrifies me so much, because I just may loose myself in the process.

And when that happens I will think back and believe : who was I kidding, thinking I was good enough for you.  I’m nothing. I’m broken.  You deserve someone brand new, in mint condition.  No flaws, no demonic history hidden behind the heart, body, or mind.

I am always scared.  I am always terrified. Of love and lost…the heartless casualties left behind.  I truly don’t believe the feelings of being afraid will ever drift away, or diminish.  Though I wish they would…because then I could really go out and enjoy life, not afraid, not terrified.

 

Are You Afraid? (of Death) 12/21/2012

Filed under: Writings — dreamynothing @ 02:59

With all the talk about the end of the world coming tomorrow, it makes one think.

If death knocked on your door, and stood waiting at your doorstep with his hand extended…would you be ready?  would you regret anything?  would you be afraid?

Personally, I’m not afraid of death.  I’m not afraid to die, I’m not afraid to take that step forward to leave this world and most likely not even hesitated to ever look back.

Why?

Well, do you ever have that feeling of when you wake up that you just wish you were back asleep? To me death is like sleeping.  The only difference is that there are no dreams.  No second reality where you can live out another version of your life.

No nightmares.  No fantasies.

…Nothing…

Sounds peaceful to me.

I’m not afraid of death, or of dying.  But I am afraid.  I’m afraid of missing life.  I’m afraid of missing the opportunities to make mistakes and having regrets.  I’m afraid of missing the small things that happen during the day that make you smile for no particular reason.  I’m afraid of missing both the happiness and the sadness together.

But most of all…I’m afraid that I will not be missed…that I will be the only one missing out.

So I’m living.  I’m ready to make a lot of mistakes and wrong turns.  I’m ready to break into a dance in the house in my bare feet, to watch a hot air balloon float away into the unknown sky, to stand outside with my tongue out catching the first snowflakes to hit the ground this winter.  I’m ready to deal with the good days, full of laughter, happiness, and love.  I’m ready to cope through the days where just getting out of bed is the hardest obstacle to conquer; to tackle the demons deep in me and my mind; and to face the downfalls that come from day to day living.

Even tho I’m pretty sure the end of the world is not coming.  I’m ready.

Because when death does finally come knocking on my door, with his hand reaching out to me waiting on the doorstep.  I will take his hand.  I will be ready because I know I will be missed and will not be  missing out anymore because I lived.  I will regret much, but will also know I only have regrets is because I lived.  And no, I will not be afraid because I lived.

 

I am Haunted 08/11/2012

Filed under: Writings — dreamynothing @ 21:36

I haven’t written in so long.  I’m not sure I remember how to put my thoughts into words anymore.  So many things have changed, so many things are different- yet I am the same.

 

I cannot change my past, nor do I not want to.  Yet I yearn to cut these ropes that hold me down- the chains that pinch the skin upon my body; not allowing me to be free. I am tied down, so tight I cannot move, so tight I cannot breathe.  Afraid to cry for help to come from a stranger. Afraid of struggling to freedom by myself.  Afraid to ask, who has tied me down so tightly. Afraid to ask, what exactly is holding me here.  Afraid to ask, why.

 

I am haunted by my past of my thoughts and actions.

I am haunted by my memories of all the fear and pain.

I am haunted by the echos of my cries and pleas for help.

 

Though I am tortured by thoughts of my life back then I still move forward.  I keep living life each and every day, slowly getting better, slowly getting stronger.  Yet, always afraid, always terrified. But what exactly am I terrified of?  Why am I so haunted?

I’m afraid of myself.  I am alive with my own ghost.  A spirit which follows me around in this world, trying so desperately to pull me in.  Whispering to me, amplifying my fears.  My ghost is always with me.  My ghost is always there.  Because my ghost is me.  I hold myself down, I am the one who has tied the knots and locked the locks.   I am my own worst enemy.

 

I am haunted by my memories.

I am haunted by past.

But most of all, I am haunted by myself.

 

Two Worlds 04/27/2011

Filed under: Writings — dreamynothing @ 04:58

I lie down, upon our bed—my cold body being warmed by your presence. So close I can feel the heat from your whispers, your words, they rest upon my bare skin then drift away and vanish in the night. How can you be so far away and yet be lying next to me? Not having a clue that I am crying behind your back? I’m longing for you. Not your kiss; not your touch—just you. The man I feel in love with.

Now I’m alone in the dark, quiet in the air around me. You’re upstairs, wondering why I left, or maybe not even noticing I’m gone. I’m down here with just the light from the computer screen to comfort me and a blanket over my cold self. In my hand I hold the ring. I read our names, run my fingers across the engravings. How can you not know me and yet know my every secret? Not have a clue that I am hurting so bad? I’m longing for someone. Not their guidance; not their acceptance—just someone. Someone I thought was you; the man I am in love with.

Maybe I’m just foolish. Thinking you love me enough to take care of someone as sick as I am. I can’t control my thoughts, I am afraid of my feelings. My own body is making me live through hell everyday. And I wish it were all over. I wish I were dead. It’s exhausting crying silently and yelling without worlds; and still have a smile on my face every time you come home.

And I know it’s not something you want to hear—it’s not something I can share with you. It’s a whole other world that I live in; where you can’t find your way into understanding. I’m lost in it now, and can’t find my way out. All the rooms keep on changing as my emotions and thoughts keep shifting in my mind. My side silently screams out in agony, and I’m taken over by the pain and confusion.

I know I have your kiss, your touch, guidance and acceptance. I know I have your love. But is that enough?

Can we be in love and live in two different worlds? I would never dare to bring you the cold misery of coming into mine; and I forever long to be welcomed back into the promising warmth of yours. But until then I will just have to cry behind your back—longing for you when you are lying next to me. And vanish downstairs into the darkness—longing for someone when you are mine.

 

My Treasure 01/14/2011

Filed under: Writings — dreamynothing @ 19:13

You are like no one I’ve ever met before.

So calm and collected all the time logical and reasonable. You always seem like you have your life together. You’re the very definition of perfect. You were able to put in the work, you are able to continue the battle, and again and again gaining the treasures along the growth of life.

So how did you end up with me?
I’m the opposite.

I am loud and fast-minded at times and irrationally quick with my tongue. My life is full of wrong turns and dead ends. I am the opposite of perfect. I haven’t been able to put in the work due to my all the wrong turns, I fail to see any reason to continue the battle because I’ve ran into another dead end, and the only treasure I’ve gained in my life…is you.

You alone make me glow and shine. Without you I’m just me. And being “me”…well is nothing that I’m proud of; it’s just dirt and dust made up of what once was. Being “us”…it’s all I’m holding on to anymore it gives my life the meaning it needs. I cannot loose the overwhelming feeling of who “we” are…I loose that and I go back to just being “me”. Alone, afraid…once again making a wrong turn; or possibly the final dead end.

I can’t loose you. And I am afraid one of these days you are going to wake up and find out that I am not a glowing gem but in fact, I am nothing but a fossil; dead with a past but with no future. I pray, selfishly, that you will never discover this. Because I don’t want to lose you to an emerald, diamond or ruby out there….but then again how can a speckle of dust compare to the treasure that’s out in this big world?

Selfishly, I want to keep you. My very own treasure; my very own jewel — because I have the best treasure of all. I have a body of a man keeping me safe and grounded from my thoughts, and from my fears. I have the rationality of all the logic in your mind giving me advice. I have the love that you willingly give to me everyday. I have you; the very definition of perfect.

I give you who I am — even if all I am is dust and dirt. I am stone, so remember if you drop me…I’ll break. And I don’t think I can be fixed — I can’t function being glued or taped back together. I will be missing the most vital parts of my make up. And that being — the jewel that’s in your eyes and the gold within your heart. My treasure.

 

Fight or Flight 06/09/2010

Filed under: Writings — dreamynothing @ 00:59

The adrenaline rush…
The heart pounding…
The tunnel vision…
The superhuman aptitude…

The high.

Most people refer to this as the fight or flight response. This usually brought on upon acute stressors. When you find yourself staring down a gun barrel. The two seconds when everything slows down before the world collapses right before your eyes. When you see a loved one trapped under a car. This is where you have two choices. You stay—you face whatever situation, the task at hand, head on…

…or you turn the other way and run like hell.

This manner of reaction slips its way into my mind—and my heart—when I’m faced towards Love, looking it straight into the eyes. Most of the time, I run. I don’t even look back to see what I’m running away from. To see if it’s really any kind of threat. I shelter myself from it. Hide. Until, eventually it’s too late, and I’m left being a coward wondering what would’ve happened if I would’ve stayed. If I should’ve stayed. Not many times do I find a reason to stay—and I assure myself that I did the right thing. And often I think myself of always being a runner—could I really still be a runner that believes in love?

(That doesn’t make sense. To believe in something, but to be too afraid to go after it. Too afraid to experience it. I felt love before. I know it’s out there. Somewhere in my mind and in my heart I want it again—but I run before, it even has a chance to get to that point.)

At some points I don’t want to run. I don’t want to take flight. But during those situations, I find no love in return. I find no reason to stay. I find no reason to fight.