Saturday, October 31, 2009


We were standing in the sunlit tower,
like peaches.
dripping, dribbling
down our necks, between
the floorboards

sap clouding our vision, we were connected by thread
fingertip to fingertip, toe to toe.

it was as if we were sitting
almost ripened
while sharing well-pitched nouns and verbs
between every gently pitted, murky glance.

Sunday, October 18, 2009


I don't have a coat.

Every time I go outside, I shiver and hope that my destination is close.
My phantom limbs and memories almost keep me warm, but not quite.

Today, I realized that I treated you the way my father treats me.

In the end, it's important to acknowledge that the strongest feeling will always be the one of self-need. Beyond love, beyond concern, the utterly human, and utterly horrible feeling of need comes first.
We try and control the ones closest to us for that very reason.

I treated you like he treated me, like his father treated him, like I treated him, like we all treated each other.

Thursday, October 8, 2009

A break from teenage angst

All my life, I have dreamed- as in, LITERALLY dreamed- of escape.
More specifically, I've dreamed of escape by city transit.
Subway cars are omnipresent in my dreams and nightmares- they fly over mountains, they go under waterfalls, and they pull in to mysterious outside platforms in the middle of the night.
An A train, a Q; when I'm sleeping I never see them in their natural habitat, underground, but as primary transportation to the different areas of Anika's dreamland.

There has been many dreams in which I got lost- the system is clearly a bit TOO complicated. The buses run slower than time in really, how else do I describe it? What I see when I fall asleep really is a place, filled with different events and other dreams all happening at the same time. Every time I dream it's just another piece to the whole puzzle, and sometimes it won't make sense until months or years later.) and the only real way of getting anywhere is using the MTA.

I could probably draw a map of what I see when I sleep, but I'm sure there would be plenty of blank spaces- those are just the undiscovered areas which I'll learn about later on.

I miss the outside subway in the summertime. I miss everything about the summertime. I miss everything about every life that isn't my current.

(uh oh...there's the angst again.)

Thursday, October 1, 2009


cant sleep. hardly can eat. irregular breathing.
my limbs shake when I walk. I can't draw because my hands shake so much.
I've cried myself into a stupor every day this week.
I have a permanent headache.
I've made myself sick with anxiety.
I fall into bed after school, unable to do work.
the anxiety continues to build.

Taking a break from Facebook for a while. Facebook gives me the false hope that I'll be contacted. Facebook gives me the false hope that someone will tell me what I need to hear. I don't know what I need to hear right now.

I have decided to remain on blogger, only for the purpose of me venting into the empty space called the internet. It's more comforting to blog instead of write in a journal, because then I can pretend that someone is reading it. That the right people are reading it. I don't know who the right people are.

I don't like sleeping because I dream of things I don't want to think about.

My dream had the most disturbing and upsetting imagery I have ever seen.
I dreamed that one of your brothers (for in this dream, you had about six) got killed in a construction accident. The building was being built in a vacant lot, only accessible through the back of a store, then through a series of green metal staircases (such as the ones you see in fire escapes, but green) and blood red walls. I was loitering in the lot, just standing around, and almost at the same moment I turn around and see a long thin piece of metal fall and slice your brother horizontally in half. There was blood everywhere. Things appeared to move in slow motion. I wanted to call an ambulance but considering this building had no address, because it wasn't accessible from the street, it was impossible. I try and find a way out to get help but I get lost in the maze of staircases. All this while I hear a horrible wailing, which eventually fades into a whimper, and dies out.
The scene skips. You and the rest of your brothers are lying on a bed. just lying there. mourning. I come into the room silently and climb into the bed and lie down and look at you. You look back at me, and I apologize for what happened. You just look blank. I grab your hands and see that your thumb, pinky finger, and ring finger were gone on both hands- this also happened in the accident, but I was not aware. They look small and vulnerable. I cradle your hands in mine, sheltering them from everything else, and my eyes say that I will never, ever, EVER let anything like this happen to you again.
Almost the worst feeling in the entire thing was the one when I woke up and realized that I am unable to protect you anymore. And in that moment, the urge to protect you was absolutely overwhelming. It's funny, and somewhat silly, that a small, distressed girl like me would want to protect such a tall, strong person like you from any harm.

...God, so THIS is why I need therapy. *shudder*