Mood:  not sure
Now Playing: silence, except for his breathing
Topic: life

My thoughts won't grace the computer screen any easier than they will paper.  What I am feeling isn't something that is easily passed on to an audience.  It's a sadness that is hard to describe without the look of pain and emptiness in the eye of its beholder.  It's hard to examine without a chart of all the wounds that have graced my heart in the last few years.  you get stabbed in the heart enough, it's bound to break.  There are stitches, sutures, and miracle cures found through the hands of honest lovers, but nothing touches the crack that's permeating to the center of me.  Nothing can erase this pain, this loss, this emptiness.  My father is gone, but he very well may be watching over me.  It's becoming more and more apparent that my views on life, and afterlife are slightly flawed.  what I wanted to believe and what I realized I actually took to be the truth were two seperate things.  I didn't believe in god.  I didn't believe in angels or ghosts.  and now i have reality staring me invisibly in the face.  i cannot see him.  but for once i believe he is there.  he loves me.  he watches me.  and it hurts like hell that he could be inches away and i can't sense him.  i can't hear him, or smell him, or see his silhouette.  It hurts deeper now.  I need to face something.  i can feel it.  heightened perception perhaps from my life of misery, or maybe simply just negative melodramatic thought.  i live for this.  i love for him.  is he proud?

living the life he never would have wanted,

J-L

Winding, winding... bring me home
Mood:  down
Now Playing: ?
Topic: life

05/08/07

11:44 pm

Every road is winding. Every window is cracked. Every path I seem to take, doesn’t ever lead me back. I’m disoriented, disillusioned, and entirely disguised. No one knows me, no one sees me, and unfortunately no one tries. I’m confused, and falling apart at such a speed that I’ve lost myself before I even knew the pieces were out of place. I’m a puzzle, without the edges. The song with a tune that’s not quite right. Everyone can tell, but by some grace of god, no one cares enough to listen. The world is strange in this light. Off kilter, and desolate. I don’t know where I stand, if I’m even standing. Those who were witnesses to my destruction, have wandered off. Those that loved me, continue to love me in the eternal sense, but still not the everyday. Love’s an odd concept here anyway. It’s sarcastic almost, on the edge of being serious, but not quite. We all feel it, we all make fun of it, but it’s not quite real to us either. It’s an inside joke, the very core of every reason that any of us have ever been broken in the first place. Love, the double bladed sword. Friendship, the dagger to the heart. Each inflicting a wound that will heal, scab, but never go away. Old flames will not be stifled. Old friends won’t stop grabbing the attention of my nerves. I’m been broken. I’m still breaking. And those that cracked me to begin with haven’t even noticed their impact on my life. That’s what hurts the most, I think, when so many can walk away without a thought. When so-called family can forget you. The wounds are all there. And if my father could see us all today he’d shake his head in remorse. We’ve fallen apart without him, let ourselves be spread across the country, soon to be across the world, without a second thought. We are here, we are there, but none of us are together. It’s strange sometimes to look back on mere years, and think it only minutes, or on the other extreme, think it to be centuries. I’ve lost all memory of him, most of it anyway. His smell has been lost with the smell of the one I love. His laugh has been caught in the winds of time. And his voice, his voice was silenced a single month after his passing. I fear he has disappeared from this world entirely, his mark never making it past his forever tainted eldest child. I remember him, everything he stood for, but nothing he actually was. He loved country music, but I’ve forgotten the tune he used to always hum. He was a fantastic cook, but his recipes were lost in his jumbled memory those last few years. He was… my father. He was normal. He was also broken. So maybe that’s what’s living on in me. His brokenness. His inability to be complete. Always searching, always failing, always wondering what else this world has to offer. He wasn’t fantastic, he didn’t change the world. He wasn’t a saint by any means. But he was a good father. He loved me. And the thing that hurts the worst is that in my times of trouble, I can’t call on him. On the days when nothing in the world makes sense he can’t tell me to shut the hell up and keep going. He’s not here to tell me to stop being a fucking little girl and just grow up. He’s not here to look me in the eye and tell me that I can be better, that there are better things in the world than misery. And I have a feeling that his voice is the only one my heart and soul answer to. Tell me, where the hell am I supposed to go when no one else’s words matter, and his are gone?

Forever listening for the words of wisdom that were caught on his last breath.

12:05 am

running away, or simply being run over?
Mood:  down
Now Playing: CMT videos
Topic: life

It's one of those days.  Not again, though, just still.  I'm stuck in this place where I don't know where to go and I don't know what to feel.  I don't even know if I can justly explain the emotions swirling inside my heart.  Maybe that's my problem.  My emotion has settled inside my heart, and my head can't make sense of it.  My heart and head are unattached, growing still, but separately.  My heart's growth seems to be stunted, a step behind everything my brain and body is telling it to do.  The step is more like a mile.  A milestone.  A moment in time, I can't get past.

If there's a song that describes this state of mind I can't place what it is, who sang it, or when I heard it.  I know it exists though.  There is a song that I want blast from my car radio driving down the highway without a destination.  There's a song out there that I know would tell me exactly where to go right now.  And I can't past the feeling that I just want to get away.  Anywhere but here, never seemed so true as in this moment.  Everytime I'm in my car driving, I have to stifle the feeling to just keep driving.  I've never been here before.  I've never needed to just escape everyone and everything.  And I'm not sure that it is that drastic.  Maybe I just need a break.  From life. 

 I just want to get in the car with my boyfriend and never stop driving until I end up somewhere and know exactly why I started driving in the first place.  There is a place, out there somewhere.  It's a place where I'll feel again.  It's a place where my heart can heal, and my head will finally clear.  It's out there.  I feel it.  It's humming in the back of my head, it's drawing me nearer to the edge everyday.  Do I jump?  Do I drive?

 That's the hardest part of the journey of life, knowing when to silence those feelings, and when to follow them wherever they may lead.  I think I just need to drop everything and not look back this time. 

 My biggest fear is that when I actually get to this place, when i follow my heart ignoring the consequences, that I'll end up in a land far darker and harder to navigate than the one I'm in now.  I'm afraid I'll get all my answers, and it's all the things I never wanted to hear.  I know what I'm searching for, and I know what I'm hoping for, but the truth is... no matter where I end up, he's not going to be there when I arrive.

He's not going to be standing on the edge of some nameless town, pointing to the reason I've been driving for hours, days, more precisely years.  He won't be driving next to us on the highway, no matter how broken down or how disgustingly maroon that Chevy truck is.  That long haired man with the ballcap and  flannel shirt on isn't him.  And it won't be his driveway we break down in.  Because someone else is driving his faithful truck with his smell still embedded in every inch of the interior.  Someone else is sleeping in his bed.  Someone else parks in his driveway.  Someone else's kids curl up in those bedrooms.  I know where he isn't.  And as much as I don't want to admit it, I know where he is as well.

 It's cold there, and dark, and bottomless.  And the fact that it slices a dagger through my heart to enter a world where this place is a reality, isn't fair.  If memories could kill, I would be in critical condition.

 Does he know?  Can he see?  is it his voice in my head urging me to just drive?  and if it is, what is he trying to tell me find?  I can't make myself believe that it's him.  but i can't turn the thoughts off.  My brain won't stop.

 I can't sleep anymore.  he's everywhere.  he's everything.  He's every reason I ever ration.  he's overtaking, and it hurts.  it just hurts.  which makes me want to run.  That used to be my answer to everything, just run away, leave it all behind.  Don't even pack a bag, just go, and when you get there you'll know.  You can build your life back together, and everything will be okay, but for some reason I can't even make myself believe that.  Everything will not be okay, ever.  I cant save myself

 but i can run...

 

...someone catch me,

Jenny Leigh

My Face of Darkness
Mood:  down
Now Playing: ?
Topic: life

02/01/07

 

Middle of the road,

center of the highway,

waiting for traffic to come

and sweep my worries away.

 

Ventilators are far easier

than trying to find reasons for every breath.

In, out, in, out, in,

hold it until you burst.

Brighten the walls if not the world.

 

Some say I’m depressive,

I prefer antagonistic.

Try to outdo me.

I dare you to loathe the world

as much as I wish I could love it.

 

We’re opposites, attracting,

and it’s about time you realized

We’ll lose interest before

We ever figure all this out.

 

Broken, blistered,

healed, and tainted.

But still wishing on the stars

that have already burned out.

 

Ever notice the ones that burn the brightest

are the first to fade away?

I was bright once too,

that’s what they’ll say.

 

What they won’t tell you,

is how I got here.

You’ll learn though.

This road, it’s contagious,

and you may not know it yet,

but you’re only a few twists and turns away.

 

Life’s ironic like that,

you just have to learn to laugh.

Laugh at the heartaches,

the losses, the pain,

and maybe someday it’ll give up.

 

Life gave up on me a long time ago,

I have a slight case of ignorance

So this is me holding on,

this is me not letting go.

 

This is me in the truest, barest,

most disgustingly honest hues.

The truth may be ugly,

but from far away I look beautiful.

 

The scars are minute,

the darkness shadows all truth,

and you’d come running

if you ever saw the paths I took.

 

They’re beautiful, and dangerous,

and in the end you’ll see

why your darkest moments,

Are equally as enlightening.

 

If you can look in the mirror

and accept your face of darkness,

I applaud you.

I can barely manage to glance at mine.

I'm the splenda in your sickeningly sugar-coated world
Mood:  don't ask
Now Playing: ?
Topic: life

January 31, 2007

1:19 am

Who am I to assume that my fucked up existence even matters in this world? Who am I to judge what will one day prove to be important? I’m nobody… but in the same respect I am somebody. I am a blip on the radar, a face in the crowd, but I’m different. I feel this fact every single day. I don’t fit in, and I used to hate that fact, now it’s simply there. I don’t know why, but I think it was supposed to be this way. I was supposed to be different, not better, simply different. It’s kind of like sugar and splenda. I’m the splenda, but even though I’m “healthy”, someday they’ll discover that I’m only slowly killing you. I wish my mind would work. This life is getting me closer and closer to the nowhere I’m destined to end up in. Middle of the road, center of the highway, waiting for traffic to come and sweep my worries away. Ventilators are far easier than trying to find reasons for every breath. In, out, in, out, in… hold it until you burst. Brighten the walls if not the world. Some say I’m depressive, I prefer antagonistic. I’m out to show the world that they’re happier than at least one billionth of the population. Try to outdo me, I dare you to loathe the world as much as I wish I could love it. We’re opposites, attracting, and it’s about time you realized we’ll never figure all this out. Broken, blistered, healed, and tainted. But still wishing on the stars that have already burned out. Ever notice the ones that burn the brightest are the first to fade away? I was bright once too… that’s what they’ll say. I was full of life, and reason, and goals. What they won’t tell you is how I got here. You’ll learn though. This road, it’s contagious, and you may not know it yet, but you’re only a few twists and turns away. Life’s ironic like that, you just have to learn to laugh. Laugh at the heartaches, the losses, the pain, and maybe someday it’ll give up. Life gave up on me a long time ago, too bad I’m more stubborn than anyone realized. This is me holding on, this is me not letting go. This is me in the truest, barest, most disgustingly honest hues. The truth is ugly, but from far away I look beautiful. The scars are minute, the darkness shadows all truth, and you’ll come running if you ever see the paths I mistakenly took. They’re beautiful, and dangerous, and in the end you’ll see why your darkest moments show you who you truly are. If you can look in the mirror and accept your face of darkness, I applaud you. I can barely manage to glance at mine.

fuck it
Mood:  irritated
Now Playing: not a fucking thing
Topic: life

Do you think there's fate? do you think that everything in this fucked up world has it's place and it's reason and it's need to exist? because I think it's utter and complete bullshit. I wasted an entire hour of my life getting on here and typing out every last thing I could remember about my father because I felt like I was losing him, and I get a phone call, and I try to download something on limewire, and I come back to this screen and it's just gone. Tell me this happened for a reason. Tell me that there is a god out there and he saw me truly trying to help myself and get better and he let some freak internet quirk erase it all away. This world is fucked. and I'm fucked up. I need this all down in typing, and I need it to be preserved, so i'm starting over, and I will duplicate every last thing that I remember writing.

I'm standing on the edge of I have no idea where I am, and I'm not sure I want to know. It's this sickening place where I jsut want to jump, but I'm not even sure what I"m jumping too, or maybe away from. It's just the adrenaline, the feeling that nothign can touch followed by a split second of pure pain before it bleeds out of your consciousness and you are left completely and utterly numb. I want to be numb again. And I'm not even sure why. My friends are back and behind me 100%. me and my boyfriend are fantastic, he has his problems, i have mine, but we are not each others problems. we're finally okay. but there are days when i still feel empty deep inside. Days where I know a piece of me is still missing and is never ever coming back.

I should be used to that spot, I should be comfortable knowing that nothing and no amount of healing will fill it. I can visit his grave, and talk about him, and look at pictures of him, but nothing will help. nothing will heal. nothing will change. he is gone. and he's not coming home to me.

the worst part of this entire ordeal is that I can't remember what he smelled like, or what color his eyes were. I don't remember his favorite color, or television show, or even song. I can't remember if his hands were soft or rough or in between. it's slipping through my fingers, and he's slipping through my consciousness. I fear that everyday he is gone I lose a new memory... even if i am trying so desperately to hold on.

I don't want my children to ask me about him 10 years down the road and not have answers to the simplest questions. I can't stand looking in the mirror knowing that I'm leaving him behind, that I have forgotten him. After all, I'm the writer of this family. I am the only one that I know of that takes the time to let everythign that happens to me bleed through my fingertips and onto paper. I should have written it down. But I failed him, and myself when I didn't. I am failing my father by not preserving his memory.

so here's the list... again... in no particular order. Every painstaking detail that is left, because it needs to be remembered, to be written down. he was the greatest man I ever knew and people need to know him. if only through this journal and my head, and my take on who he was.

he made a killer apple pie.

he liked poinsettas on christmas.

he thought he was some kind of photographer, even tho he was horrible at it.

he loved animals.

he grew a pot plant in the hallway bathroom never thinking that us kids would know what it was.

he couldn't type worth a damn.

he wore an army jacket or a flannel jacket 99% of the time that the weather called for it.

his shoes were always untied.

he was only ever at home outdoors.

he was gentle.

he was loving.

he was the richest man, if only in love.

money did not make a difference in his life.

roses were his favorite flower to take care of.

he took us to the park and brought wax paper so we could make the slide extra slick.

he hunted for arrowheads and morrell mushrooms.

he was obsessed with indian life, not only because of his heritage, but because he liked their way of life.

he took a thousand pictures but hardly ever developed the film.

his eyes were brown.

his hair was thick and brown too.

he loved nash bridges adn cheech and chong.

he bought a real live christmas tree every year for christmas before he moved out of my mom's house.

he loved beef jerky.

we made sugar cookies together every year.

he hated cleaning.

he drove a red pick up truck.

he took us to chuckee cheese.

he loved country music

his smile was crooked.

he loved twinkies, and anything else hostess.

he made even the simplest outings fun.

his favorite place to go out and eat was ryan's buffet.

he loved his and everyone else's children.

he built dollhouses.

he wanted to build a canoe.

he was a great fisherman, and taught me everything he knew.

he didn't want me to miss him.

he believed in me.

he never judged.

he had hairy toes, i guess everyone has their flaws.

he used old spice aftershave sometimes.

he bit his nails.

he called me jen jen.

i'll add to the list later, i feel better, but like i said nothign will ever fill this hole. nothing will ever make any of this okay. i don't even know where to go from here, other than bed.

remember forever what you will someday forget,
jenny

it's a good day to look back
Mood:  happy
Now Playing: silence, but only because everyone else is in bed and i can't find any headphones
Topic: life

Life is an endless string of events, and I guess I always knew that. I knew there would be good days and bad days, happy and sad days, and even just days like this one, days where you can just sit back, talk to old friends, and blast country music so loud while your flying down the express way at 75 miles an hour that you think nothing can touch you. I knew there was randomocity to days, i knew that everyone was different, but when I look back at this journal I don't see that. All I see is pain, and hate, and half-truths because I was so goddamn angry about what was happening to me. It's taken quite a few wakeup calls to realize this, to realize that maybe i was never representing myself with this blog, I was merely creating a world where I was the victim and it was okay for me to say anything i wanted to get back at the people that hurt me, and coincidentally those that love me the most.

I thought that the internet was safe. I knew I was broadcasting my pathetic sense of existance to the world, to countless strangers that I don't know, or even if I did know, wouldn't know me. I never stopped for one second to think that those I loved the most would ever come across my harsh words. I was wrong. Search engines are amazingly accurate, and telling these days. So my best friend, the person that I've probably hurt worst in this world, found my online journal, because it's such a jenny-thing-to-do. It's not even that I care that she read these inner thoughts of mine. I trust her more than anyone in the world, even if we don't talk much, and see each other even less. She was my best friend for years, and that trust will never go away. I just hate that I hurt her with my words. I hate that this place that I thought was so safe, and so harmless, was able to hurt her because of the way I used it. And so I'm attempting to remedy that.

I'm not just going to use this on the bad days anymore, I'm branching out. Today it becomes my outlet for hope, for happiness, and for contempletation. These are my thoughts, these are really me. Ignore what has come before this very entry because starting at 10:16 on March 9, 2006, I'm letting anyone that dares to look see what I'm really about, and who I really am.

I'm in an amazing relationship that is not quite a fairytale, but he makes me happy. We have our fights, hell we're coming out of one right now, but we always make up. I make sure before I lay my head down to sleep at night that we're okay, that I've said "I love you" and that I know, without a doubt, that we will live to see another day. Relationships are hard, but isnt that the point? We have to fight for the things that we really want, we have to battle to be worthy of the rewards. And ya, sometimes it hurts, but the way I see it now, the rest of the time it doesn't. and if I have to live through a couple more arguments or misunderstandings, then it's worth it, if only for one night laying in his safe arms.

Friendships are the same way I think. You have to fight for them, or they don't really mean much at all. I've fought with my best friend, it's true. But ever since the last time we exchanged harsh words I've been fighting FOR her. I want her back, and I'll stop at nothing to get her back. It's not worth the petty highschool drama anymore. We're adults, and we're dealing with love and life and everything else on our own, it's about time we put the team back together and battled it together, cuz I'm losing. Our friendship made me sane, and I fear for myself if these things dont get settled soon. She's traveling the country in less than a month to see us all, and I can't wait another minute. Everything will be okay. It has to be.

I never realized that the path I let myself lead the last few months is what was making me crazy. I thought for the longest time that it was because of my unresolved issues with my dad that I couldn't be fully happy, that I was irritated and felt completely off center. The truth was that I was off center, because I had let myself stray there. I went to college and left all my friends a half an hour behind, and thought it was too far. It's not, and I need them now more than ever. They bring me back to reality and make me see that not only am I being a dumbass, but that life is awesome with them in it. I wish I could see them everyday, and I can't. But I will see them more than once every couple months now too.

I'm not sure what else to say. I'm coming back from the dark place, and I have all the people that I love to thank for that. They've woken me up, and given me reason to open my eyes. I've been depressed, and I need my medication. It doesn't come in pills, or bottles, either. It comes in human form, and they're ready to be filled. Thank god for all these great friends that haven't given up on me in my absence.

i've woken up, and I'm not walking away,
Jenny