| new lj!! can you believe it?? |
[14 Dec 2007|12:14am] |
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yeah, i made a new one. this one is played out. if i knew how to like it i would, but i don't. my username is just craigdacy... so just find me and add me. yay!
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[11 Dec 2007|02:17am] |
It was the last day of August. School would start the next day, and Robert decided to spend his last day of vacation in the park. He woke up earlier then usual that morning. He had a busy day ahead of him.
His father slept in. He slept a lot. Sometimes it felt like he didn't exist. Robert went in to ask him to take him to the park. The old man's body was still. He would not being going anywhere that day.
While Robert was only 8 years old, he had quite a bit of independence. His mother worked 2 jobs during the day, and his father worked the graveyard shift at a local surplus store. So Robert was almost always alone. When he told people this, they would tell him, "You poor thing," but he never understood why they would tell him that. He had known nothing else his entire life.
He tied both of his tennis shoes with double knots, and grabbed his blue baseball cap with the red bill. It was his favorite cap. His aunt had given it to him for Christmas a few years before. He wore it everywhere he went. Usually his aunt sent him junk for Christmas, like stamps for a stamp collection, or model cars. Maybe that's why he particularly liked this hat.
The park was 2 blocks from his house. The sun was warm, and Robert stopped for a second as he stepped outside. "A beautiful day for the park. A beautiful day for anything," he thought.
He walked the 2 blocks to the park, humming a song, that his teacher had taught him when he was 7, the entire way. There were families at the park, and Robert was sad for a second that he couldn't get his own father to come with him. But he quickly decided not to let anything get him down. There was something about that day that made him believe it was worth enjoying.
He stood by the swings for a while. Not wanting to swing, but just to listen to the chains squeak as they rocked back and forth. They rhythmic creak put him at ease. Suddenly he heard someone calling him. Not his name, just, "Hey, kid!" He quickly turned to see who it was. It was funny to him that something as generic as, "Hey kid!" would catch his attention.
Immediately he knew what the kid was yelling about. A kite was flying toward him, the string dangling with no weight to keep it from dissapearing into the clouds. Robert ran toward the kite and reached his hand up to the grab the string. When his fingers gripped the the thread, the string grabbed him too, and started dragging him with the wind. His feet scraped the ground, trying to get a good footing, but the kite was strong, and seemed to have a destination in mind, so he decided to let it take him there. His body was slowly lifted off the ground, and soon the park was far below him. Together they traveled through the open sky, and the kite took him all over the world. They passed over Mount Rushmore, Niagra Falls, The Great Pyramids, the Eiffel Tower. They traveled together until they had seen everything he had read about in books, or seen on television.
They flew for years, never stopping. He never grew tired, or hungry. Never missed home. Never wished to be somewhere else. At every stop, they stayed long enough for him to take a picture with his mind, but not too long, forcing him to appreciate every second he had.
When the kite returned him home, he was an old man. He had spent his life dangling from the end of the string. Putting his trust into the kite. Knowing it would take care of him. And it had. And he'd lived a good life. Alone. The way he had started it.
As Robert stood in the park, a husband and wife walked passed him, pushing a stroller. They were both wearing nice clothes, and he could tell they were fairly successful. They had a family, and had probably never spent a day alone in their life. He stopped them and asked, "Excuse me, you seem like a very happy family. You seem to have a lot of love, and care deeply about one another. But I was wondering, have you ever seen The Louvre? Or the statues on Easter Island? Or the glaciers of the Arctic Sea?"
The couple looked at eachother, puzzled. "No," they told him. "No we haven't."
This made the old man smile, and he simply replied with, "You poor things." And with that, he got on one knee and placed the cap his aunt gave him into the stroller. Then he smiled again, and walked away, with no destination in mind. The way it had always been. And the way he wanted it to be.
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| read me |
[02 Oct 2007|12:42am] |
I'm going to post a section of the book i've been working on. It's towards the end of it, so if you've been keeping up with it so far theres a huge gap. pretty much, if you could just read it, and comment how it makes you feel. 1 word, a whole paragraph, whatever... Im just trying to get a grasp for what emotion it may evoke, without knowing the context necessarily. if it evokes nothing, you can say that too, haha.
( Read more... )
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| yet another story update |
[26 May 2007|12:02am] |
so this is my last post for a while. I have some more written, just not on the computer yet. I plan to write a lot this summer while we're on tour, and hopefully i'll be able to throw them up here. Please let me know what you think of it all. Writing is my outlet, and this has been pretty good for me, haha. I hope you liked it.
( Read more... )
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[24 May 2007|01:50am] |
I woke up in a panic, grasping my wrists. No scars. No scars. It was now 2:00 pm. I had slept through my classes.
After pouring myself a cup of coffee, I went out back to smoke a cigarette. The hot coffee battled the cold air in an attempt to warm my skin. I touched my fingers to my wrists. It felt so real.
I looked down to the streets below. The snow had mostly melted away for the day, except for the clumps that outlined rooftop shingles or clung to the sides of street curbs.
I decided to get out of the house. To go for a walk. I drank the rest of my coffee. A little too fast. I burned my tongue.
In the living room I could hear Gilbert snoring and the MASH theme song echoing off the bare walls. He always had the volume so fucking loud.
I walked down the stairs. As I stepped off the curb and into the street I stumbled. My head began to swarm. The world was so big. The world was so big and I was so small.
I decided to walk the earth, all of it, putting tiny footprints into her skin. View every inch of her. I wouldn’t have to worry about life, people, anything. It would just be me and the beautiful skyline surrounding me.
My journey took me to where she lives. I stood outside of her building. It was so big and I was so small.
She started walking down the steps. I turned away quickly. Instinctively. I wondered if she saw me. There was no time for games. I had much of the world yet to see.
I ran up to her and grabbed her hand. “Come with me,” I said, pulling her towards me.
She seemed surprised to see me. “I have class,” she laughed, but I didn’t listen. I held her hand and we started running. We ran straight through the middle of campus, pushing through students moseying their way through life. I held her hand and we just ran. I wanted her to see the world with me. I had it all mapped out in my head. We would have no destinations, no appointments. Time would be meaningless. Together we would feel the open air. Together we would discover how big the world was. Together we would be anything but small.
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[11 May 2007|12:38pm] |
I've already posted this one, but its the next part of the story
( Read more... )
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[08 May 2007|01:08am] |
story continued... let me know if you're actually reading this or not so i can know whether or not to keep posting, lol.
( Read more... )
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[29 Apr 2007|11:53pm] |
so im going to start my story from the beginning. some parts may get reposted. it'll give you an idea of whats going on.
( Read more... )
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| more writing. |
[28 Apr 2007|02:28am] |
So I'm just going to post segments of what I write. This is all fictional, so don't worry. It's pretty much about a guy who's losing touch with reality, having trouble figuring out dreams and real life. But somewhere in the mix of losing touch with himself, he finds love. There are pieces of me in there, but it is not about me, so don't think I'm suicidal or anything, haha. And I curse alot in it, so beware.
( Read more... )
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[26 Apr 2007|09:27pm] |
I walked into my room. My bed caught my falling body and absorbed it with warmth. I stared at my window and watched the frost collect around the edges, almost as if it were trying to get in. Out of the cold, despite the fact that the heat would destroy it.
Time has no meaning when you’re dreaming. I don’t know if I was asleep or awake, but the room around me no longer existed. Before my eyes was a timeline, stretching miles in both directions. All I had to do was think of a part of my life and it would take me there.
I traveled back to my sixth birthday. We were in my backyard. My mother brought out a birthday cake. My friends and family all cheered, clapping and smiling for me. All for me. As the cake was set in front of me I looked for my father, I wanted my father to see this. He was not there. But he was there. Far in the background there he was. He had no face. His head was drooped forward and his arms rested at his sides.
Suddenly the smell of sulfur began to sting my nose. The sun was covered and blackness overtook my body. I tried to think of somewhere else, I wanted to be anywhere else.
In a flash I was in my bathroom. My father was on the floor at my feet. I cried out to him to get up, to please get up. Blood poured from open wounds on his wrists. The puddle reached my feet and started to climb up my leg. I began to scream, turning away to escape the blood, turning to face the mirror. In the reflection was a stranger. It looked like me, but I wasn’t ten years old. I was much older. My eyes felt empty, endless and deep like the blackness of space.
I looked to my arms. Two large slits consumed my wrists, splitting open the vein. I panicked, placing my hands on the cuts to stop the bleeding, but the blood still oozed through my fingers.
In the reflection my father stood behind me. His face was old and withered. A hellish voice rose from his mouth. “A body lies upon regret, a son shall bear his father’s pain. No tears will fall out from his eyes, instead they pour out of his veins.”
I woke up in a panic, grasping my wrists. No scars. No scars. It was now 2:00 pm. I had slept through my classes.
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| writing |
[16 Apr 2007|12:24am] |
Sleep stopped coming easily for me years ago. I started having these dreams maybe once a month. I went to see someone about them. A doctor. He told me it was a cry for attention. I broke his nose.
In my dream I feel myself floating up. As I look down I see an empty living room. Intense pressure builds around my whole body. My face flushes. My palms sweat. I am frozen in a constantly changing world. Suddenly orange and yellow leaves start falling, filling the room. A swarm of autumn ember swirls amongst the calm. In a flash, the leaves are gone and the room is powdered white. Small snowflakes glide their way through the room. It's peaceful. It's cold. I feel unattached to this snowglobe world. I do not exist. Seasons change. Life goes on. I am frozen. When the snow fades there is nothing. Blackness. There is no Spring. There is no Spring.
I wake up feeling things I can't describe. There is no simple label to place on emotions. There is no happy or sad. You feel what you feel. It's always changing. There is no label for emotions.
I started writing again. I'm glad.
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| The Bell Jar |
[31 Mar 2007|12:21am] |
I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story.
From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned me and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out.
I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.
this is exactly how i feel.
Sylvia Plath is a good writer.
this is a good book.
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| i guess its up to me to find a way to get to you |
[25 Feb 2007|09:28pm] |
it's funny how everything thing in your life can take a sudden jerk, and all of a sudden you're rolling down a different path than you expected. but what's interesting is that things are always ok. no matter what happens, im ok.
i dont think i believe in predestination. I think that in life we have choices, and the directions we take ourselves in determines our future. but no matter what we choose, everything will be alright. there are no right and wrong decisions (to an extent... dont go murder someone). Every decision will take you somewhere different, but it will always take you to some form of happiness.
So do what you love, forget the rest. Don't stress over the low points.
This is what I've learned in the past 4 months... there is beauty in heartache. I think that we are so lucky to have emotions, to be able to feel, good or bad. I think this all hit me one day when i was driving. i just was overcome with sadness, over several things. and all of a sudden, i smiled, and stuck my hand out the window, and embraced it. It's ok to be sad, and its ok to let yourself feel it. that's what my dad told me. and i took it to heart.
I think life is too short to allow yourself to be overcome by depression. theres too much beauty in life and too many things to look forward to. dont allow yourself to get caught up in the shitty parts. keep your eyes up and enjoy the fall.
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| new song lyrics |
[13 Jan 2007|02:49pm] |
you said that you can do better, but i cant do better then you.
and if we don't see it through until the end.
just know i'm sorry, i'm so damn sorry, keep your head up forget about me.
it's a touch it's a feeling, an open invitation for us to come home.
and don't forget there's a meaning.
you'll find it,
i'll keep it,
don't let it,
deceive us.
oh you got to feel lonely when the sun goes down on perfect lives.
you can call me a liar, as long as you're calling i don't mind.
you were never one to kiss and tell,
this chalk outline marks where we both fell.
keep it up babe, keep it up.
your notions have all failed,
you faked it oh so well.
and when it all is said and done,
i hope you know that no one has won.
so i'll wait for the words to come,
things will get better son, things will get better son.
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| a very merry christmas indeed |
[24 Dec 2006|03:49pm] |
this has been a great holiday break thus far.
im glad that everyone is in town. Thank you for helping me accomplish my goal of forgetting.
merry christmas everyone.
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| long post |
[05 Dec 2006|07:28am] |
I've never really been the type of person that likes change. I hate it... that's why I've never left Austin, that's why i'm afraid of anything new. But lately I've been thinking the only thing I want is a change.
I'm getting sick of this town, sick of these roads, sick of the same old memories. (Not that they're all bad). This semester has destroyed me. School, life... it's pretty much broken me down and right now i feel nothing but apathy towards everything. I feel like nothing is constant, nothing ever stays the same, so what's the point in trying? Enjoy the moment and hope that the next one is good too. If it's not, move on, forget the past, look at the present, don't think about the future... I wish the world worked that way. Unfortunately, the past is something I can't get passed, and the future is something i am forced to plan for. So the present pretty much gets lost.
I am ready to go on the road, play music. The only time I'm truly happy is when we're traveling. It's my escape from life, the only way i can forget everything. yea... i'm ready to go away for a while. forgetting sounds nice.
Life has its ups and downs. Enjoy the ups, embrace the downs. I guess the only way to get over hurt is to feel the hurt. I need to learn to allow myself to feel, so that i can learn and i can move on. stuffing things does me no good. and I think I've been doing a good job so far.
I was wrong, there is constants in my life... and i didn't realize it until recently. My family... my brother and sister, who are two of my favorite people and i love them. My friends, the band, who are like family to me. And my other friends, the ones i grew up with... yea, constant.
When it feels like everything is lost, you realize the greatest things in your life that you haven't taken the time to appreciate before are still there. these people were the ones that called me and talked to me to see if i was ok. They are the greatest things in my life.
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[21 Nov 2006|07:04am] |
you said you can do better.
no, i can do better.
but you were the best i swore it.
and now im understanding, that you're under pressure. and i'll under estimate us severely.
you are overwhelmed now, and i am overrated, so you will over state it, that we're over, oh its over.
so where's the warning sign, where's the party gone? a cigarette left burning tells us all which side you're on.
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| song lyrics |
[18 Oct 2006|03:08am] |
You Can Find Me in New York Postcards:
Good Evening audience all eyes to center stage, where we'll re-enact where it all went wrong.
The scene ends congradulations gentlemen we raise our glasses to 5 years of good time and good faith.
Conversations of real life situations. I'll cut my losses turning back before it started.
And don't forget it, you've forged your own fate, on the cutting board of all we've lost.
You can find me in New York postcards baby fighting for your time.
Never had it all, on the tip of my tongue.
At the point of loss, words can't help us now.
When we thought we had it all, one breath and now it's gone.
And it feels like landing on your own two feet its like we've never, made it on our own.
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