I am sad because all of my friends are gone. I am glad that no one reads my blog any more so I can write things like how I feel mildly afraid to even text anyone.

Maybe it’s a fear of failure. Like I’m afraid that if we hang out, that person will discover that I’m secretly an uninteresting unattractive lump of human mess.

Or maybe that’s it, I’m in a self esteem slump. I just have to prove to myself that I actually have no problem carrying a conversation with anyone. I know that’s true;
but there’s this little fucking voice in my head as i reach for the phone that likes to say
but what if

Or maybe that’s it. Some weird habitual social anxiety. It’s obviously been a problem for me in the past. I need a confidence boost, or a way to fill my time.

I lock myself up because I’m afraid that in my absence from a person’s life (generally no one’s fault) I’ve lost the ability to be friends with those people I love. I’m not living like I tell myself to live, how everyone expects me to live, and most importantly how I want to live.

So here are the things that I want:
I want more than tea occasionally at The Sparrows with sam when he’s in town, I want to see Amy and my lovely little sisters more than once in a month, I want people to talk to about music, I want to play instruments and sing with my friends
I want to make some great new friends.
I want to learn to make myself a priority.
I want to see kelsey and be a part of her and even brian’s life.
I want to keep up this wonderful relationship i’m so lucky to have with moira
I want to learn not to expect too much, or get disappointed.
I want to learn to ease up, and stop letting myself get worked up.

Back when I was really depressed it was a perpetual slump like this. I know how to fix it, it’s very simple.
I need to breathe
Relax
Take time out of every day to really appreciate the things I have, and the people that I love. I don’t mean just mull it over, or think “Ah I love the people in my life and all the opportunities i’ve been given.” I mean think about 3 specific reasons, or great times I’ve had with each specific person. Think about why they’re important to me and more importantly why I deserve them, and why they deserve me. Every single day.

Most importantly, I have to realize that I don’t have to be sad if I don’t want to. It’s a choice, and I’m the only one stopping myself from being happy. It’s no one elses fault.

And once I’ve perked myself up, I can continue with my life.

In fact, I’ve made myself happier by the end of this post.

The first about a lonely homeless man who lost his wife and walked to the edge of a bridge to kill himself, a second poem about a quiet boy with a monster inside him in a group of friends, all aspiring gang members, who comes across this homeless man about to kill himself. The quiet boy tells the homeless man to jump, and he does. Here’s the last of the three poems, influenced by la dispute’s album called Wildlife, with a quote off one of their songs called A Poem.

wildlife

I lock my doors at night.

do you?

Do you feel the need to protect yourself
from wildlife?
Or something else?

Is it fear of the unknown?
what could turn this handle slowly?
Could it be the very same thing
that was made in an image holy?

What fear do you know? What scars can you show?
Do you even know what flows in YOUR veins,
or through your heart below?

What natural part of human nature can go unnoticed every day?
What darkness lies in every heart hidden behind clothed charade?

When every passerby that passes by only sees a shell
does it reflect on the person viewing? or is it simply fear of a hell?

A hell they didn’t know, a man’s dark and lonely place.
Devoid of love or a life worth living, finding only solace in hate.

And when he’s finally noticed he’s at the edge, teetering on life or death

when he only needs a single push, the devil told him yes.

“And the worst of the wildlife wears clothes and can pray
and the worry, the wonder,
For three meals a day.
Only death unimpeded, not slowing its pace,
Brings that petty, old worry and wonder away.”

i am stuck
i am stuck with this pain in my gut
morose am i, with this pain i am stuck
i’m sick to my stomach and stitches pinch shut
my only foothold, this pain from my gut
and it hurts and these nerves all expire and serve out a dish of warm bliss, though withholding its words and i can’t help but think that this sting will not end no this blood that i shed won’t expire and mend
i am scared
i am scared
i am scarred i am scared
i don’t know what will happen
i am tired and scared

I want him to say something sad, along the lines of “So there was Jon, unlocking his apartment door alone. Again.”
Something like that.

My apartment door swings wide amidst the flood of flesh and blood through the tide of mangled feelings; my footsteps bear no partners love.
Walking hand in hand my fingers grip and compliment each other; try to find some peace of mind with my only choice: self comfort.
It’s complacency i lack, or just the thought of it. at best, you’d think i’d have them in my arms or even better yet under covers black.

Strength in my bones put the words in my head.
I’ll live by these words. I know I’m strong.

My thoughts, the poison; these pills, the cure.

and tomorrow
we can paint the gray skies away.
for tomorrow,
my dear, is another day.

I wrote most of this out on a ride from my buddies house to McDonald’s and back. I was alone, and this is my song about being alone, wishing anyone would want to be with me. Some story I made up too, with a made up girl, because I’m cool and am allowed to write whatever the fuck I want.

c b c g fingerpicking alternate with g chord finger picking pattern

The fixtures on the wall hang ever so right
they frame the essence of a girl with a smile so bright
she’d blind a whole heard of cat-calling cattle brained men
with just the flick of her wrist and
a little slight of hand

She brought me up to the roof
under stars in the dark
And we started to talk and I played my part
we started shedding our clothes
we started shedding our lies
and what I remember most
is my hand on her thigh

I forgot what it felt like
to be alone
But love, when you’re with me
It feels like home

and I’m not scared
to be alone
But it’s too late
for you to drive home

and I snap back to my room and roll over in bed
I start to talk to myself just to prove I’m not dead
and take some comfort in knowing that fantasy was still clear
and the touch of her skin still felt so near

(another stanza)

what I want to hear,
just tell me you’ll stay.
Just say that you need me
and not regret it a day

(another chorus stanza)

so by the light of my phone…

so that’s all I have so far, but it has a nice melody. I might replace a racey line or two in there if I decide tomorrow.