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I'll let the snakes out, let the snakes out, let the snakes out.
I'll let the snakes out, let the snakes out, every snake out.
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Sunday, April 17, 2005
Salutations
I thought we were finishing up together, but you were just waiting on the edge of my reason and around the corner from my conscious reality. I know you saw everything. And now you are talking, talking, talking. Why am I so insane today? Why can't I handle it? She is giving me another chance. Compromising. Making me feel so good. I can see our whole future together. I don't understand what I want. I don't understand why my brain is reeling. Why am I so jealous angry mad confused disoriented hurt and hiding in the shadows? I actually am able to talk about it, tell people things details. My coping skills are better. My people skills are better. I am doing just fine. For all intents and purposes, I have everything I could possibly want. Yet, Stacis is screaming. Stacis won't shut the fuck up! My head swells and bulges as the racket bounces off from everywhere. I told myself I was not going to drink today but fuck it. I have my first rum and coke in hand. It won't stop it but it will slow it down. Make me able to do something a little focused. Why do the problems that are not real problems repeat in my head? Why do the sounds say such mean things to me? Haven't I been nice to everyone? I don't even know if I want to write songs anymore. Yet, I have fuel and they come out anyway. Maybe, I will be able to spend more time with my writing. We can see it is going well. Let's say a prayer together: Erica. Please be patient and accept me even when I can't hold myself together. Someday, I pray that you are ready and that you come back to me. I pray that I don't fuck everything up. I pray that at the moments where I am fucking it all up. Moments like today. I pray you still will love me all the same. I will do everything in my power to make you happy for the rest of our days together. Amen. That was nice, huh? Fucking salutations. Welcome back Stacis. I saw you there all along anyway. I'll let you hang out in the foreground, but you had better not make a mess of things. Of all that I worked hard to build. Just help me to fix this. She is worth every moment of a day like today.
posted by Stacis at 5:04 PM
Sunday, March 06, 2005
Entrance into Conscious Thought
I do not know my own emotions until they torment me. Breaking up with Erica has been such a great move. The freedom. To live in the open possibility. I wish the best for her. Her pain over the breakup is a knife in me. I only want her to be happy and I know that we were somehow no longer giving each other that. Then, today, she calls me up and she is so alive, so vibrant. The holes that were left by my departure are filled with a blossoming meaning that reminds me of all that I loved about her; love about her. Was it my presence that robbed her of her ability to live? Today was our first real conversation since the breakup. I feel free without her and her without me, but I am simultaneously confined by the thoughts that without me she is able to be those things that cause me to love her. The marks on my neck burn with that thought. My amusement from this morning over last nights exploits are now bittersweet.
posted by Stacis at 11:02 PM
Basis For Comparison
I don’t have any sort of sane experience with this kind of thing. Spend the night or don’t spend the night. What is the difference to me? After feeling your teeth on my neck and your hands all over and yet avoiding just one place, how am I to know what is okay and not okay? Still, I like it when things end when they are hot. Much better than the confusion of tomorrow morning. I always sleep better alone. Much less responsibility. If my head is screwed on straight I will reflect more on life tomorrow morning. Or even better if my head is still crooked as it so tends to be.
posted by Stacis at 1:10 AM
Sunday, February 20, 2005
Regarding the Sadness that We Create
Today I called up my ex who I broke up with just nine days ago. We have talked a couple of times and she seemed okay since the breakup. This time she was not okay. I could feel it and I asked her if it was okay that I was calling. She broke down right there and said it was not okay, that she was not okay. She was so sad and there was nothing I could do about it. What could I do? I broke up with her and have no current plans to get back together. It would have been easier for both of us if she had dumped me. I think we could have coped with that. But this? When I think about her sadness, I feel sick. I did not want to cause such pain. I have tended to be on the receiving end of being rejected. My coping skills are supreme. I remain in love with my own sadness. Having my heart torn from the seams is fuel for the fire. The confessions spill all over the floor for every girl that ever made me feel insignificant. Things are different now. I am different. The same but somehow more powerful. This is not a narcissistic pat on the back, but a reality. I am less afraid to be myself and to do things that have direction. Despite my continual sinking feelings that often dominate my realities, I accomplish things. There is no accomplishment in breaking up with Erica. Only the pain that I have caused her. What the fuck is wrong with the world where heartbreak is the norm? Why couldn't I just feel the same love for her that I felt before? Why did things fall apart? I just want her to be happy. I want her to be strong. We live now under a different sky. I hope she finds the light of the stars that shine above her. I can almost see them from here.
posted by Stacis at 11:40 PM
Abandon
In order to suppliment the changing patterns in my life, I am using a book called This Book Will Change Your Life. Everyday, it lays out little instructions of what to do. While I do not think that I can do it every day and it is only day 2, we will see how it goes. Unfortunately, day 2 suggested that I should gaze at everyone wondering if they may be my one true love. Since I am going to go hang out with my parents today, it does not seem fitting. I skipped to day 3 for now and have to throw away something I like. The taste in my mouth tells me what it should be. My pipe is going into the trashcan today. It is a glass pipe that I bought in Santa Barbara many years ago and the only one that I have ever owned. It has dumbed down my senses through some pretty fun times. Now being stoned has somehow lost its luster, but I still do it. I do not smoke that much, going weeks sometimes without. But on a night when I smoke at all, I always smoke a lot and am in a haze the next day. A night for me where I smoke with friends ends with me smoking out of that pipe in my room before drifting in a cloudy sleep listening to choice songs. Last night it was Philip Glass. Also, smoking once seems to stimulate my interest for doing it the next day. No big deal to me, except that when I go to school next year, there is a good possibility that I will be drugged tested as I work in different hospitals and clinics while I am in school. Hence, the habit has new risk associated with it. Who knows? I will probably buy a new pipe or something but this pipe is special. I think I will appreciate the sacrifice of abandoning it. If you are rooting around in the dumpster and find a green and white glass blown pipe. Send it to "Confessions in Stacis" at blogger.com. Thank you.
posted by Stacis at 12:54 PM
Saturday, February 19, 2005
The Lost Waiting for Found
I do not even know if my words function anymore. I should think that they may be missing. My mind has forgotten how to rattle. I begged and pleaded down to the bloody knuckles for it to forget. A knife in Stacis. I watch the viscous insanity drain away as the color comes back to my face. It seeps through the ground in completion moments before I am on my knees with my tongue in the dirt. To be sane is to be normal and to be normal is to be boring and my days pass by with a monotonous succession of productive activities. The items on my list get crossed out before the mold sets in. I am accomplishing things. I am the new me. Everchanging. No. Growing. Wait, becoming. Since my last entry, I have held down a real job that pays a living salary. I often go to bed on time on weeknights and sleep. I am planning to move across the country to go to graduate school. I interview at the top school a week from Monday. I love the movie Garden State. To think I may live there. I will look for that chasm in case I need a place to throw myself. I went on a date last night and then hung out with a friend. Talk about a social agenda. I even changed the oil to my car on time. I do not mind so much spending time with my parents. I was in a relationship for a year and a half that I chose to end myself about a week ago. There is ground to cover. As you see, the verbose clusters of words that formed my self depricating harangues are not so present. Look above. Substance without a combination lock. The distance between the top of my head and the ground is equal to the number that represents my height. It is 1:13PM on a Saturday and I think I may go make my second drink. I am going to listen to music, lift weights, compose a beat and yell profanities at the next insect that I see. Who knows I may even write a blog more than once a year. I am going to need to offset the slightly tumultuous but nonetheless proportionately upbeat entry. I apologize for the new optimism that I have found in actually living life. I do feel a little guilty about it. But do not fear. Stacis lurks on the edges ready to come back to steer this ship of confessions. One last thing. There are hundreds and millions of websites. If by sheer chance or by some deliberate act you have landed on this electronic stream of nonsense, be advised to not read any further.
posted by Stacis at 12:56 PM
Tuesday, January 13, 2004
Apathy Tamper
I breath in the air from my sweat pants. Her lingering traces are the tranquility in this jaged night. The source of my peace ever yet remains the source of my anguish. Her tales shred my vast edifice of apathy as if it were a feather in a windstorm. The monuments of my confessions are the sandcastles of a small child at low tide. Only a few months away from when she was raped, practically on the eve of our own initial meeting; fate saw me on the floor and threw a bone of silver and sunshine. Hearing of it today caused me to reel. Real unavoidable stream of emotion with no target. But how much do I want to tear them both from the world. Show them pain and hear them recoil from in my rage. But I remain unsubdued. And for her. When you have been raped so many times, beaten, taken and placed on the verge of everything, one more time becomes another drop in the bucket. Give me a thimble and I will devote my days to draining the wrongs of the world that have been poured into your beautiful soul.
posted by Stacis at 9:43 PM
Disclaimer
I have not been writing on the site for a while. There have been complications of all kinds and an oftentimes tenuous internet connection. But that is not why, I can always get online somehow. My own paranoia stands in my way. I fear the spies that may know about this site. They could be monitoring my twisted psyche through the messages I leave. They force me to hold back. How can I write actual details about actual events? They would find out. They would tear my life apart. Part of me thinks everyone should know, but that part of me is suffocated by that part that thinks that no one should ever know.
Now that I am at least temporarily back in the fold, we should review the ground rules for those who either were not listening, did not think I was serious or stumbled here by mistake. Rule number rule. You are not supposed to be here. DO NOT READ THIS BLOG. There are too many important things to be said for anyone to be reading here. There are plenty of other sites where the writers have talent and in fact have a dellusion of getting a grand following of people who know now how great the writer always was. I am not keeping secret my endless repetitive prattle that never goes anywhere or even talks about anything remotely resembling anything. However, since I want to expand on this concept and delve even deeper, please do not read here. Great. Now you made me spill oatmeal on my keyboard.
posted by Stacis at 6:24 PM
Reflection
The past plays tricks on the mind. The madness that seems so far distant can come crashing right back on top of you before you know it. You would not know how to escape it. It is the womb you grow out of. And then it moves within you.
posted by Stacis at 12:58 AM
Tuesday, July 22, 2003
Swamp Eyes
I called this entry "Swamp Eyes" because someone told me I have swamp eyes today. I thought it was pretty cool, but did not have anything to say about it. In truth, I would really like to fall off the face of the planet right about now. My existence here has really been stressing me out lately and has been a lot to handle or to not handle depending on your point of view. My father made the request today that we have a "little discussion" when we see each other this weekend. It is one of those discussions where he suggests that I need to be doing something with my life and should best change my ways. Now, I do not mind these father/son talks so much, but am still somewhat opposed to the whole idea of them because I fear the strain it places on him. I feel that he becomes dismayed by my apathy as I try to bring gently communicate my utter lack of any values. Eventually, I acquiesce to urges of curing his discomfort by pretending that my life has direction. It would probably be the best for all parties if I fell off the planet before the conversation occurs, but I doubt that we will be so fortunate. I am much more likely to sink into the planet than to fall off it. My life is quicksand. I am sinking to the point where my nostrils are right on the surface. I can still breathe and can still watch life pass by through my devasting swamp eyes. Quicksand. Swamp. Swamp eyes. Ehhh?
posted by Stacis at 12:25 AM
Sunday, July 20, 2003
Shelflife
Hello my worthy listening population of zero. I am back after a much needed vacation. I am in good space and am excited about sharing more of the self deprevation that powers the misery that is my life. While I was gone, my roommate had clearly been busy. He went on what I can only consider as a nymphmanic run. The results are the incessant rings from his cell phone and his computer that are from the various girls that he has gone through in my absense or is preparing to go through regardless of my return. The one that is over tonight was also over last night. Her double nighter is surprising to me because I do not consider this girl to have much of a shelf life. A girl with a long shelf life is kept in the freezer section of my roommates mind, defrosted at his whim or conveniance to be used again and again. But like any girl, she will eventually expire and be tossed aside, unlikely ever to be used again by my roommate. But tonight, Danielle is over for the second night in a row. Whoa! Danielle! Two nights in a row. Well, best squeeze it in girl. This is mainly a personality crush. Soon my roommate will not find you quite as charming and you will expire. In your case, we are most likely looking at a very short shelf life. Unless, you have some extra tricks I do not know about. Good thing you are squeezing the homerun action in early because there will probably not be much of a later for you and him. To your credit though, I do think it is pretty cool that your dad used to be on death row.
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