Brain-morass

Venus. Call me fly-trap. I snare the XY's and fashion them in an under-image. It's not my fault. Blame your best nightmare. I'll steal the scene with a silver scream and shatter the world in the blink of an eye. If I could just find a way to sugar-coat the words that march out of my mouth, I'd become like all the rest -- but plasticity and doll-faces are what make me gag; I attempt to remain upon the same stage across which I've always played, but at times the make-up fades and I'm left with a dusty imprint of 'you-don't-know-who-I-am.' Funny. I don't, either.

To me:

"You're telling me
That I'm the most important thing to you...
But can't you see?
You're killing me with all the things you do --
And I really want to believe it's impossible,
I really want to believe it's all a dream...
But I just can't seem to wake up...
I just can't seem to turn on the light.

One step off the edge
And the world will seem all right.
You did it again --
Yes, you in the mirror;
You put your faith in a cruel world...
All my dead friends come to haunt, harm, and hinder,
Never letting go, here to drag me down to hell.
Just say goodbye...

Just answer me,
What was the point of all that treachery?
And soon we'll see the truth behind all of your blasphemy,
No, never again...
I'll never trust anyone again;
I'd sooner slit my wrists and risk discovery of hell,
Than stay another moment here where certain devils dwell..."

Dreams may come and dreams may fade -- nothing I love will stay the same. Nothing under heaven stays the same. Or...so said Letter-To-God. Did you find it, muse? You've got me on a darling-darling-Lestat kick, now.

"I don't like myself, you know. I love myself, of course. I'm devoted to myself till my dying day. But I don't like myself."

How true that rings. This is the taste of my miseryhead. I adore that phrase, Mr. Lioncourt. If only you'd emerge from the evening, dripping darkness like wet feathers...and spirit the maiden [insides-cold] to a place where the air is clean and the rain never stops. Oh, if only. If only.

'Just Like Heaven' again. Again, silly. AFI is heart-wrenchingly lovely. I dreamed about Davey last night, but it's wreathed in waking-fog...I can't recall for the life of me how his pen-stroke lashes looked against white cheeks. Disappointing myself again. Where did you go, muse? I need you now to save me...

This entry doesn't hold a single thing worth knowing, now does it? I felt like spilling a little of the me-bottle into someone else's head. There. "You...lost and lonely. You...strange as angels." That's who-what I'm thinking about now. "Why won't you ever know that I'm..." Pieces of the song keep burrowing under my skin and eating through to the other side. I've left Canon in D for another time -- when I feel supremely pained and human...when I'll allow myself to be cocooned in music and instrument-kisses and shattered notes that rise like warm water to take up the space in my brain reserved for the things that make me smile, crumble, and leak tears in one deftly-felling moment.