Elsewhere

Breakfast at Jenny's

Mon, 19 Jan 2009 03:45:08 GMT

So I'm here at Dupont and Spadina at Jenny's place, watching Sex and the City and very much appreciating the whole not-being-alone thing. Because the being-alone thing really isn't working for me these days.

I needed a wake up call. Thank you, thank you, THANK you Jenny.

The antidote this time is severance.

Here. We. Go.

If This Sadness Did Not Weigh Me Down

Mon, 17 Nov 2008 19:34:34 GMT

You know when it's hard to find the words? When it's hard to even identify the feeling resonating within you? When it seems the only way to describe something is with no words at all? I feel like that a lot these days.

There are flashes. Blinding moments of transcendant bliss. Maybe it's tripping up the sidewalk hand-in-hand at midnight. Maybe it's racing through the air, your legs pumping and feeling like you're kissing the sky. Maybe it's under the covers, drenched with heat. Maybe it's revelling in the lightness of laughter on your tongue. Maybe it's standing still. Moments that you hope to god would remain infinite, that you could just wrap yourself up in and live there, impervious to the venom outside of your sheild of happiness.

The venom. Snakes that sleep in the cracks in the pavement, in the clouds above your head, between the sheets. And then you get stung. And through your veins courses a poison so potent that your lips turn blue and your hands won't stop shaking and you can feel your insides deteriorating with every breath you take. And you're shivering and sweating and swearing you don't know what you did to deserve this. And most of the time it's nothing. Nothing but wishing you could hold onto those instances of sheer rapture. And you'd try to suck out the poison but you feel so leaden with grief that it's a struggle to simply exist.

But somehow, you get up off the floor. And there's an angel somewhere, and it's one of those times where you can't find the words, but you want so badly to show them your gratitude. To repay them for fixing you when you were sure you were damaged beyond repair.

There are no words.

This is what you do:

You carry on.

And those moments of exultation seem even brighter now that you've seen the dark.

The Only Secret People Keep

Thu, 13 Nov 2008 17:07:04 GMT

Forgive me LiveJournal, for I have sinned. It has been 8 weeks since my last entry. These are my sins:

I ate a disgusting amount of cake in the span of 48 hours. And I loved it.
I skipped class today. And yesterday. And last week. With the intent of writing my 6 to 8 page essay but never actually writing a word. Instead I watched videos of cute puppies on youtube and episodes of South Park I'd already seen before.
I believed that I might actually be good enough for you.
I let my hurt rip from my throat and spat the poison at you.
I wanted us.
I wanted you.
I hated her.
I woke up.

Life is just a field of poppies right now. Wilting as I stumble through.

The Nature of (Stu)Dying

Mon, 15 Sep 2008 05:38:41 GMT

Hey guys?

It kinda hit me just now that university has begun. I mean, like this is a permanent situation I'm in. I sit on the 53 and sway on the Yonge line four mornings a week and trudge to some lecture hall/class and endure whatever the professor spews at me and escape the room only to spend 1 or 3 hours, depending on the day of the week, feeling like I must be the lonliest person on this rock we call Earth and then drag myself to yet another lecture hall/class and survive yet another shower of words, half of which I either don't listen to/don't understand/don't give a fuck about and then I slouch into an empty subway seat and try not to fall asleep and make the shortest phone calls in history between Summerhill and Rosedale and then shove onto the 53 and hope I make it off alive and then stumble down Old Kennedy which feels as far as Marathon at this point in time and then wait for your call and then wait for you and then be with you and then fall asleep way too early and then stay up way too late.

And then do it all again.

And well, if that's not intense I don't know what is.

May the Freeman be with you (and me),
Caroline

Fracture

Thu, 31 Jul 2008 03:30:07 GMT

It’s been a while since I wrote anything that meant something. Not to say that what I’ve been writing lately has been meaningless. In all honesty, I haven’t been writing much at all. I remember when I’d write every single day. There was inspiration in everything. I’d see something sweet, like kids climbing trees, or a couple just... looking at each other. I’d see that and a lovely little string of words would come together in my head and I’d need to get them out. I’d witness something terrible, like a kitten on the side of the road, or a fire on TV, and the sorrow would weigh on my heart and I could feel the words forming on my tongue. I’d wake in the night from a dream or a terror and I’d scribble it on the notepad I kept by my bed. I lost that book. Must’ve fallen off and got swept under the rug.

There’s so much... life, so much death, so much smiling and sobbing and sleepless nights and kids growing older and I don’t feel inspired by any of it. Something happened to me this year. Something happened. I don’t know when or what or who it was but... but that something, that someone... they really screwed me up. They got such a hold on me that they made me turn away from myself. Writing is who I am and... and I just... stopped. I just cut myself to pieces and left all of the parts that matter in the corner of my room, behind all of the books I bought but never read. I feel like... these past few months, I’ve been walking around, a ghost, a weird shadow of whoever I am... whoever I was. I feel like... sometime in the past twelve months... Caroline died. And I know that’s morbid but I can’t explain it otherwise.

Maybe she didn’t die... maybe she just got lost. Or maybe she’s just sleeping. I’ve been so tired lately. Or maybe... maybe she’s just... waiting. Waiting for... that something, that someone, that moment that will just breathe life into this fading girl. Because she’s fading fast, and I know they say not to go towards the light, but I’m so tired of being in the dark. It’s cold in the dark.

I’m
so
cold.

Think Again My Friend

Wed, 30 Jul 2008 17:18:34 GMT

DEAR MOTHER,

I WILL NOT BE ATTENDING YORK UNIVERSITY, GLENDON CAMPUS THIS SEMPTEMBER. I ADVISE YOU TO GET THE FUCK OVER IT.

LOVE,
YOUR DAUGHTER

P.S. I love this song.

Friendly Fire

Fri, 25 Jul 2008 21:00:24 GMT

Dear You,

I wrote you a letter. I know you read it, but I'm not sure if you read it. You see, I didn't mean everything that I meant to write, but I meant everything that I didn't mean to write. The little bits of truth that crept onto the page and hid between the lines without me knowing. A 'we' disguised as a 'me'. An 'us' crouched behind a 'you'.

I've never had a problem with keeping my emotions on display. Why hide what I feel? I never saw the point. But I've never met anyone like you before, who could wound me with a single glance, or provoke a smile where there wasn't hope for one. My feelings were my armor. Now, in your hands, they have potential to be the weapon that takes my breath away in the best and worst of ways.

The problem is, I'm fairly certain we aren't in the same boat.

Because despite my tendency to wear my heart on my sleeve, no matter how blatantly obvious I am about what's going through my head, or how radically honest I am with you, I feel like I don't get anything back. It's a one sided conversation. At least that's what it feels like sometimes. I don't know what you're waiting for (because we really don't have much time).

Just...

Tell me...

What do I have to do?

Love,
Me

Cherish With Fondness The Day Before I Met You

Mon, 14 Jul 2008 01:44:33 GMT

The dirt feels at home beneath my fingernails and the grass stains have missed my knees. The drain has been thirsty for a cocktail of muddy water. This all feels so familiar.

But familiarity doesn't feel right anymore.

God, this is what it does to you. This is what was wrong with me. This is what it did to me. Back then. And here I am again, listening to the same doubts and regrets run laps around my brain and wincing as they pummel my heart.

No. They're not the same doubts and regrets. This is a whole new breed. A whole new level. Because this time I was so sure. This time I thought maybe... I thought maybe...

Well it was a foolish thought. Maybe's usually are.

Room

Sun, 13 Jul 2008 07:16:00 GMT

Hello. Are you there? It's me. I'm just wondering how you're doing. I haven't seen you around in a while.

I think back on the time before I knew you and it's the strangest thing. I can still remember when you walked around the corner and smiled at me. I still remember the first thing you said. And that time you scared the fucking shit out of me, jumping out of no where. Thought my heart was gonna stop. And the time we met in that empty hall and you told me your nightmares and I told you I couldn't remember the last time I'd dreamt. I dream every night now. And I can still remember your voice on that day where everything went wrong, and you walked me home and sat with me and made me feel important. I haven't felt that in a while. And I remember you always showing up at exactly the moment I wished you were there. And that long night where I sat up and thought about you until you called me the next morning. And then the note. I still read it most nights. I don't believe it most nights.

I'm not sure of anything anymore. Except that you scare me. You scare the shit out of me. You have this uncanny ability to make me say all of the things I don't want you to know. It's scary because I'm not sure if you want to know them either.

She Sings

Fri, 04 Jul 2008 21:30:20 GMT

I suck at this writing an entry everyday thing. I failed already. Failure seems to stalk me lately.

Yesterday... I went to work. It was dead. I worked all three departments. Was bored. Was depressed. The music sucked especially. Moreso than usual. Went home. Slept. Woke up. Rode my bike. Listened to Tegan & Sara for the first time in a long time. I've missed them. Met up with Sam. Bought a Monster. Drank a Monster. Read. Went to sleep. Couldn't sleep. Went online. Eyes hurt. Tried sleep again.

Woke up this morning. Watched Juno. Ate Mr. Noodle. Went to Shoppers. Bought new nail polish. Went home. Tried to play Guitar Hero. Files erased. Again. Watched Breakfast at Tiffany's. Cried. Tried to talk. Couldn't do it. Rode my bike. Sat on the hill at Bennies. Cried. Then on the swings. Tried to talk again. Couldn't do it. Talked to Julz. Don't feel better, but I do feel enlightened.

I'm gonna do this thing where I post a quote from somewhere, a book, a movie, a conversation I had. Just to kinda reflect my day.

Here's today's:

"Listen...you know those days when you get the mean reds?"
"The mean reds? You mean like the blues?"
"No... the blues are because you're getting fat or because it's been raining too long. You're just sad, that's all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you're afraid and you don't know what you're afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling?"

Curve of the Earth

Wed, 02 Jul 2008 06:00:27 GMT

Okay, so I promised myself I would write an entry every day of the summer if possible. So here's where it starts.

Went to the beaches today with Sam and Chenise. Amazing, amazing day. I want to live there. It's so beautiful. I felt so chill afterwards. I could probably go more into detail but I'm so full of Monster that I can't really focus on one thing. Got major MAJOR ADD right now. Like serious. Can't even like, formulate sentences properly.

And also, can I say that this is gonna be a long two weeks? Also, that you are amazing.

See 'Mood'

Mon, 23 Jun 2008 00:25:18 GMT

But not about what I'm thinking/feeling in my head/heart. I know what's going on in there.

About you. You confuse me.

In case you were wondering: it's you. You gotta know it's you.

Hard to Say

Fri, 20 Jun 2008 04:50:59 GMT

High school was definitely a learning experience. No matter how many classes you went to (or classes you didn't), essays you wrote (or essays you "wrote"), homework assignments you did (or homework your friends did for you), novels you read (or sparks notes you read), there's no way anyone could possibly graduate not having learned a single thing. Because high school is more than just notes and projects and tests and homework and math problems you just can’t figure out the solution to. The teachers aren’t always the ones standing at the front of the class and marking your papers. They’re sitting at the desk next to you, and beside you in the cafeteria, and using the locker next to yours, and staying up with you until 5 AM proof reading your CPT that you know you shouldn’t have left to the last minute but you did anyway because that new video game/movie/episode/book came out and you just had to play/buy/watch/read it. Years from now, I may not remember how to solve a quadratic equation or how to write a proper thesis or be able to recite Hamlet’s “to be or not to be” speech, but I will definitely remember the people I met and all of the things they taught me about the world and about myself.

Thanks guys. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Aw Shucks

Tue, 17 Jun 2008 00:18:26 GMT

Christina. sent 16/06/2008 6:36 PM:
OMGGGG
you're so cooool
i love youuuu
wow caroline you're my idol!
i wish i was just like youuuuu
your hair
is so prettyyy
and your eyes are so blue and deep and mysterious
like the sea
and the sky
and you're just so sexy
if i was a lesbian
i'd be on you
hell
i'd be on you anyway

Awwww, wow, Christina, I had no idea you felt that way.

How Bothersome

Sat, 07 Jun 2008 15:44:26 GMT

After months of rehearsals and warmups and set design and vocal practices and revising and learning-to-be-creepy and doubting and getting excited and feeling stupid and looking crazy and getting yelled at by Gilmore and getting praised by Gilmore and getting told by Ferrari and recieving notes from Alisha and trying to understand Alisha's notes and getting frustrated at Joel and pissing Joel off and going through 3 different Kennedys before finding the perfect one and staying late and realizing Lexy is a god of everything and missing our cues and bruising my knees and tripping over fabric and dropping rocks on my toes and improvising and painting styrofoam balls and laughing like a maniac and walking home after 5 and wishing I'd never agreed to this at all and thinking this has to be the best experience ever. After all of that, it's finally over.

And I am sad.

Thanks Soil cast & crew. It was an awesome ride. I'm gonna miss all of the above stated incidents and emotions. We made it happen.

In other news, OMGWTFBBQ! Also: wow, damn, shit, fuck, holy hell, Jesus Christ, oh my god, yes, please, again.

Apocalypse!

Sun, 01 Jun 2008 04:16:38 GMT

Let this day be known as the day that Jenny Cervantes made a Star Wars reference.

The Proof:

Caroline says:

oh man
what song was ittt?
now i must know

cervantes || Happy 6th Month! says:

find out, young jedi

What's the Craziest Thing You've Done Lately?

Sat, 31 May 2008 14:18:13 GMT

What an awesome coincidence. Sometimes life is just like whoa. And fuck when you look at me like that I can't even think properly. I can't. Think. You confuse the fuck outta me. But I still want you here.

I wanna bring a little light to your life.

Skin

Wed, 28 May 2008 03:09:10 GMT

Here,
It’s all hooded eyes and flooded lungs.
It’s all gorging on poster pull-outs
And ripped up pages
Of words we saw but never read.
It’s all hearts on the outside.
It’s all teary eyes and torn up letters.
It’s all Tinas and Glorias
And the way we come together.
It’s all light in the darkness
And collect calls in the chapel.
It’s all excrements and exclamations
Of wasted clarinet lessons
And the weight of words on a woman’s heart.
It’s all doing what we feel
And ashtrays out in the open.
It’s all smoke curling towards the sun

Here,
It’s all madmen.

Ridonkulous

Tue, 27 May 2008 02:08:12 GMT

WOW! Hello! Goodmorning!

Needed You To Know

Sun, 25 May 2008 15:01:08 GMT

What are you thinking? Is it about me? Should I be worried? Why can't I help it? Where did you come from? Why is this so hard? Why am I so tired? How do I know you're telling the truth? What's your biggest secret? Why you? Why does no one understand? Why do I feel like this? How did this happen? What do you feel? How do you know? Did you know you're amazing? Why can't I fix this? What is wrong with me? Why me? What can I say? Are you reading this? Where do you go when you leave? Why are my lips so dry? Did you mean what you said? Why can't I explain this? Why do words escape me? Why can't I define it? Will you help me? Do you know how you make me feel? Why can't I stop crying? Why is this song so sad? Are you okay?

The Fire In Your Eyes

Sat, 24 May 2008 13:58:45 GMT

You say I'm an angel.

I believe the angel is you.

All That I Could Ever Do

Thu, 22 May 2008 21:05:39 GMT

I killed Kirk.

You love her. Love her cause she's so gorgeous. So bloody gorgeous. Tunnel vision, peripherals shot, colour blind. Can't see her glancing at her own reflection in a tainted mirror to the right, horrified at what she sees, eyes sunken, rimmed in red, blood shot, a mouth that cracks under the pressure of her sadness, cheeks ashen and forehead creased in a frown she can't erase. Can't see what's on the other side of the looking glass. Don't know she's not even listening. Don't know that she's thinking of leaving. Don't care that she hasn't looked at you for months. It's herself she sees. You don't care. Because to you, she's gorgeous. So bloody gorgeous.

Everything looks better in black and white.

Of Course

Thu, 22 May 2008 02:29:45 GMT

What a fool, Caroline. What a fool you are.

Away

Mon, 19 May 2008 23:15:42 GMT

WOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOW!

I'm driving myself crazy.

History is doomed to repeat itself, I suppose.

Be prepared journal. I have a feeling I'll be needing you quite a lot in the near future.

You'll Be The Death of Me

Sun, 18 May 2008 14:31:24 GMT

I don't know when I stopped being myself. Maybe I never was and now the real me is coming out. If that's the case I don't like myself very much. The Caroline I know doesn't drink. The Caroline I know would've been able to remember what happened last night, who drove her home, what her parents said, where her cell phone is.

She wouldn't care so much about you that she'd want to forget.

I wonder about life sometimes. Sometimes. All of the time. I wonder about the people I meet and the things I see. I wonder about the big picture and the master plan. If there is a master plan. What if we're just fumbling creatures, stumbling around, bumping into eachother with no rhyme or reason? No meaning. No destiny. No fate. Just meetings. Just moments with no greater meaning than the word denotes.

But what if there is meaning? What if there are things that are meant to happen? And what if this.... this thing that's happening is one of them?