Tragic Flaw

I still feel sick to my stomach

afraid to leave my room

comforted by the box I’m caged in.

It feels like something is rotting in my insides
gnawing in my stomach
and clawing at my throat.
Theres a heavy pain, like a slab of frozen molassas
is thrawing in my core,
eaten alive by the acid surrounding it.
The stimulus of my mind tring to grasp
all the possibilities and explainations of this horrid feeling.
It’s heart break.
But I have never given you my heart, and although
most are fully aware of my feelings for you
they all brush them off.
I’m too fat now, and you were always too young.
The obvious chemistry lay before me the whole time,
and with your masculine phyisque and baby voice
you climb into my house and waste away several hours
with my precious baby sister.
Upstairs, high above, my prudent heart churns.
My mind dreading the reality of what is happening.
Are they fucking ?
Are they kissing ?
Are they doing drugs ?
Can they be just talking ?
Can two people attracted to each other remain friends
when the clock strikes later and later ?
And I could hear their voices creeping up through the vents.
A mumble or a word or two.
My heart, it plunged, it burned.
In such agony, I was.
Quater past 12 it hit, and I heard the chimes of slamming
of the front door.
Why ?
Why does it hurt so much ?
Is it because I hold a fluttering fancy for him ?
or is it because I hold a habouring protective shield over her heart,
her very damaged soul ?
Someone drops a sandbag down my throat
as I hear panicked high pitch laughter.

Divine soft lush layers of flesh coat

my waxy marrow filled bones.

They swoop in curving lines over the harsh sloping

angles they sit upon.

In the center, in the heat

there is a sensation.

Silenced.

muted.

neglected.

i want so desperately to be able to explain it, but I can’t.  I’m just going to let it sit like molasses in the pit of my stomach and  burn like the acid it surrounds.

It was the may long weekend and we went up north.

My brother brought his friend who was my prom date and my sister brought up a friend of hers I didn’t really know all to well. It was everything a standard weekend at the lake is. A mix of boredom, to much television / bad movies and a little bit of boating and socializing.

The effect of my sister and brother and their friends made me into such an awful person so unlike myself. I was rude, I was mean, I was crude, I was loud. Well, I’m typically loud… but you get the picture. I suppose I was fighting for attention. I just made so many jokes that I otherwise wouldn’t have made. I felt weird. odd.

The dynamic between my prom-date / my brothers friend and my younger sister was in my opinion slightly inappropriate. They were very much flirting. or rather she was with him ? I’m not sure. It made me uncomfortable, especially because of the age difference and because she had a friend up. I felt like her friend was very much just there and not elusively there for my sister.  That said, her friend and I bonded, and it was more like she was another sibling. Albeit another loud and hilarious one.

Secondly, when we mixed our little world with the world of the folks at the cottage. Interesting. They were shy, I was loud. It was odd.

And then the boy who I’ve had a crush on since before I really should have had a crush on someone that age… who is quite a lot younger than me. My sisters age. And there has always been something between them. He looked really good. He’s matured, physically. A lot more handsome. 

Also in a split second I saw another boy, I suppose he’s a man now considering he’s 18 or 19 now, I had liked. And when I say liked I mean never really knew at all but had a paralyzing crush on him for a good five years. He looked good too.

It’s always nice feeling that knee jerk heart attack flutter when I see them, but god sometimes it’s embarrassing because I know so little about them and it seems as if these feelings will never fade in intensity.

It’s not like I’ll never see them again, these are people I plan to see at least once a year for the rest of my life. You see how it’s problematic ?

Regardless of the boys, personality change, and sibling rivalry it really was a glorious burst of summer freedom. The window in my bleached blond hair as I attempted not to kill everyone while driving the boat. Freedom. The summer sun. Ect.

One last summer.

Glory Box is tired of playing,

and my elbows are upset.

AND I”M SO MAD at myself.

SO MAD.

I have another blog.

This is not why I’m mad.

But if anyone reads this anymore

here it is.

http://ileacscrest.blogspot.ca/

and I don’t think it really has anything to do with the show.

Although I did some work, it wasn’t nearly as much as I needed to do, and you can get what hindered me.

I had such violently emotional reactions to the program today. I cried several times, and yelled and cooed, and mostly curled up in pain because it hurt. And then it dawned on me, it’s not just the looming school work that’s doing this to me. But in fact the whole “I’m not going to be around much longer” feeling.

I want to feel as passionately as the characters do about family! I want to love that viberently and fully. And it hurt so much because I know I’m leaving, and I’m leaving them when they’re in need, and I can’t help. I haven’t been any help. I’ve been a shitty older sibling.

And so I cried and shook because of the pain welling up in me.

Due to procrastination, I’ve put myself in the hideous situation of having to bail on mothers day. I left far too much to far too late… There are about 16 days left of school. Oh deary, and My over dues are getting quite extreme. I’ve sanctioned this day off to work on them.

In other news, Prom.

Prom was this Friday. To fill you in, I went with my brothers friend. Over all he was a pretty good date. Very polite and gentleman-ly. But I was very much a wallflower for a lot of it, probably stuck too close by him. Weren’t these supposed to be my friends ?
Hah.

I felt pretty, was complimented, and dancing was fun- even if my whole school left before 10:30 and even if there really was no after party.

See, that was another thing, half the actual prom was spent trying to rebuild the shut down after party which failed miserably in the end. With weird rules, and an old guy dressed as bat man. Hell I even got caught in the crossfire of a drink being thrown at a friend. Drama.

After that my friends and I went to a little cafe with board games and stayed there till about 3 am.

Not the worst night-just not prom-y.

It probably hasn’t been well known, but I’ve been stingy on lending my time out to my community. Meaning, I’m 50 something days away from graduating highschool and I don’t have my required hours…yet. One of my close friends (I’ve mentioned her on here once I believe in my whatswrongwitheducationthesedays post) has about 900 hours, from working at brigantines. She sails tall ships and I hear non stop about this world of people she vanishes off to every Friday night and Saturday. Anyway, she managed to help me swig a weekend of hours from it and today was my surreal experience.

First things first, I get the time I’m supposed to be down there wrong. So I’m late and my instructions are an intersection near a coffee shop. Next set… theres a garden near by, and at the end of the garden there is a set of stairs…near a phone booth. Go down them. After a bit of confusion I make my way down the set of sketchy stairs into what is a underground parking lot. There’s loud rap music playing, and several teenagers with dust masks and parts of tall ships. It appears I’m in the correct place. I find my friend and I get to work, defined in this case as sanding a mast.

I sort of just awkwardly and very intently do my job. As if it were the most important crucial thing in the universe. I avoid talking to anyone. Including my friend and the strange boy also sanding the mast. Eventually the break bell goes and I have to venture into the living space. It’s this sort of dingey living area covered in broken pillows and mats on the floors. I continue to not engage in conversation and do my best to blend into the floor ( with my bright red sweatshirt ). We start varnishing the mast after the break and I break out of my shell a bit and begin to occasionally mutter to the boy that was sanding with us. 

The day generally continues like this until lunch break, in which everyone goes to a small field in the park for mandatory fun. Which is this game they call poweraid. Basically they had all the higher ranking teenagers on one side, and the lower ranking trainees on the other (it was brutally unfair with there only being 4 or 5 trainees and 10 or so others). One person from each team runs toward the center to grab an empty water bottle. It is only after someone has made contact with the bottle that everyone else can move. The second rule of the game is no throwing. Other than that, the object it is to get the water bottle by any means necessary and get it to the opposing side’s territory.  There was a lot of dog piles, and ripping people off of others, and tackling and head butting…it was violent. I sort of just followed and observed, as I do.

I met a couple of the people my friend always speaks of, it was odd because everyone goes by their last name at ‘brigs’ and they all enjoyed to introduce themselves by their first names. It got very confusing because I was used to my friend referring to them by their surnames.

Poweraid was joyfully interrupted by the supervisors/captains who brought cake. Everyone had a lovely time feasting on ice cream cake and it was back to work.

More or less, it consisted of more varnishing, but this time a lot faster.

People also started to talk to me. I had more conversations that usually consisted of

Them : uh, who are you ?

me : I’m ( insert first/ last name of friend here ) ‘s friend

them: oh

me : I need community service hours

them : oh. well, this is a great place to get them ( possible sarcasm)

me:

them: oh, I’m ( insert first name )

me: cool

There were few times I didn’t cling onto my friend like a lost puppy, but in a particular instance when I was sandpapering a small mast near a large pile of garbage bags I had quite a fright. I swear the bags were moving. Slighting, stirring. I thought I’d simply watched too much doctor who, and I was hallucinating. But I looked closer. They were definitely moving. So … I did what anyone in a horror movie does…I said ” hello ? “

of course the bags responded with more slight moving. Then a wiggling. Then out pops a head. ” Hi “

Then out pops another boy.

okay.

They both said. “Don’t tell anyone” 

When my friend came back…I didn’t breath a word.

Over all…It was an surreal experience. One where I was far to quiet and invisible. I really felt like I was inside of a movie or something. All of a sudden burst inside a fully functioning world where I know I have only limited amount of time in.

(I also enjoyed watching how boys behave. I don’t get that often enough.)

The shrill silence of the morning is interrupted

Abrupt

By the chilling screams accusing and demanding

There’s a loud thump

And I pull the covers over my ear

” do you really want to end this “

” it was a year ago “

When I think they’ve moved downstairs I hop unseen to the room across the hall

Maybe he’s petrified,

Like me

But I see his shaggy mane carefully tucked in under his duvet

I can’t risk waking him

I can’t wake him up to this

So I creep out the door and elusively make it back to my dark little box

To hide under my own covers until I am nothing

More than a head neatly tucked beneathe the covers

Unaware of the unhappiness around me

So, yeah…potential prom date down stairs. Keeps asking me to prom, I fail to respond because I’m embarrassed to take my brothers friend. Slash I’m embarrassed in advance of what prom will be like. Prom last year was awkward enough.

Feeling like a third arm…just hanging around being awkward. Being shy. Being self conscious. Damn…next year with boys is going to be really really hard. I just can’t interact at all.

Sometimes this happens and I pretend it’s not there and then I explode.

1. I’m pissed because my friend cancelled plans and I was really bored and I gave up a weekend at the cottage for this.

2. If I went up north I could avoid my siblings which I’m pissed at

3. Pissed at the siblings because they’re going ape shit and I don’t know how to help them so aka I’m pissed at myself.

4. My sister’s birthday is tomorrow and shes going to NYC and I never fucking get birthday presents never mind trips to fucking NYC

5. My other sister has friends and knows boys and I’m jealous. Yes. This is a reason for frustration.

6. My sister whose birthday it is, is pretty much depressed and I can’t help her.

7. My brother got my sister a cool present and she rejected it. That’s not okay and it makes me angry.

8. My dad is mad at me and I don’t know why.

9. I need attention and I keep tattling on people to get it.

10. I’ve been oddly hyper and I feel really fake recently…what’s up with that.

11. I’ve done nothing all day and all I really wanted to do was go out.

12. I wanted to work out downstairs but now my sister is home and going to be using the room with the treadmill/elliptical.

SO - I just yelled at my sister and her friends for banging on the door really fucking loudly.

It’s as if every time I see one of my siblings a little part of me inside dies, sadness envelops me and it hurts far too much to smile.

Or at least when my younger sister steps foot in the room. I don’t know what to do, it just seems as if she’s not in a good place at all and I don’t even know where to begin to help her.

She moved from sharing a bedroom with our other sister to occupying the whole basement floor- from which she never leaves. If she ever does come up for air it’s only to get drunk or visit my older brother in university and hang out with his university friends. She hardly goes to school, she hardly eats and she thinks everything is pointless and meaningless.

I was angsty once, worse than I am now ( I know, hard to believe) but I never had such an apathetic attitude. What I always deemed as depression meant to me feeling so much I couldn’t move. It wasn’t this numb, heartless insensitivity. At first I thought it was my own bitterness over the concept that lack of caring for anything meant that to her I was insignificant, but slowly I’ve grown to realise it’s beyond that. I’m truly worried.

I don’t even have a clue of where to start. She hates herself and the world around her. Or perhaps she’s unimpressed. I don’t really know.

this will be an unnecessary post about how shy I am.

How am I to survive at university when my brother and his friend come into my room and try to talk and all I do is clean my room. I don’t even clean my room ( obviously by the looks of it ) and I was so obviously not being myself.

ranting.

it’s a shame because I would so love to go to prom with him, but I’m clearly too awkward. And I’ve introduced myself as shy. When I’m not. I’m loud and angsty and obnoxious and I laugh too much and won’t ever shut up.

But I can’t go with him because it would be weird and I could never live it down. Why do I even want to go ? I suppose because I like dressing up.