if only id known it before id fallen in deep

the only song i knew...

 ...was a song never worth hearing.

clean

finally i feel clean.

i feel new.

i feel free of hate.

i feel washed out, yes

and empty, yes

but mostly i feel able

to start again.

i think i like this.

hope; light; truth;

and after the rain had gone
and after the clouds had settled
and after the rainbows fell
still she sat there staring at the embers
wanting so hard to fly away
chasing the smoke from her
mouth with her eyes.
still she sat there, and prayed.


she waits for the sun
bittersweet rays to hit,
lips mouthing the hope
that she wants to feel.
the courage in her heart keeps
it beating but the storm in her mind
strikes and strikes away.
still she sits, and she prays.

phone calls

no matter how many times i dial the number i just cant find the strength to press the call button

its actually really quite hard to find this laptop.
let alone find a place alone and safe, plug in
the charger, get onto the internet and unblock
facebook, blogger... why do i even bother?
do i even need to publish my writing?
lately ive been writing in my diary, like i 
always have, but with the intention of no one
ever reading it. it kinda scares me. makes me
feel alone. i know i like to be alone. but to
be unheard... unread... unblogged even?
its a bizare feeling. i need someone to somehow
read my writing my criticise me before i 
get far too carried away.

day dreaming

im thinking ill call my blog Day Dreaming, but i dont know. Freedom and Pain has everything to do with my life... but something more like The Only Freedom, or Running Away is better sounding... any ideas anyone?? 

maybe even Pastures of The Sky, or Singing to The Sky, or Waiting for Love, or Holding Hands, or... um... Tracing the Sun... Reading Palms? I Like to Scream Lots? maybe not haha. 


Sipping Tea? well thats what im doing right now...


Learning to Fly? hmm...


Wishing on Stars? i do that alot...


Watching Trees Grow? hehe its a little hippy.


Optimism is Overrated? true but no...


gah my head hurts now!  

control

it was not out of caring

nor out of mistrust.

it was about control and you fucking know it. you like to be able to keep the details of my life in your control. you like to control my life's patterns. you like it. i hate it. i want my freedom back. i will claw back at you until i receive my own life into my own hands.

an end to something that once was

this is it.

there is no more.

no turning back.

maybe ill miss you.

maybe i wont.

maybe i knew all along.

maybe i thought it false.

maybe i defended you.

maybe i fought you.

i say its

an end to something

that once was.

but

maybe, just maybe,

i am wrong.

maybe, just maybe,

it never was.

it wouldnt be.

you tried so hard

and so did i.

but somethings never

happen. most things

never should.

thats what you were;

a mistake.

and maybe

i love who you were,

no matter how big a mistake

you will forever be.

maybe, just maybe.

alone

look at that loner.

she sits in her corner.

is she day-dreaming?

watch her eyes,

they dont blink.

she is so alone.

she is so unwanted.

she is so unloved.

i choose to sit alone.
when i say fuck off,
there is a hint that
yes, i do feel unloved.
but that doesnt mean
i choose to be unloved.
id choose love above
anything else.
i choose to be that
'loner'
i am not abandoned
until you hear me
and choose not to listen.
i like it when you
join me in my silence.
but dont try to
change me.
yeah, maybe the drugs
make me a little dopey.
but, god, i daydream
because i hate reality.
i am not a loner,
a choose to be alone.

save it

if only there was one way, just one way

to keep this blog alive. to let my mother

let me have it. to convince her its saving

me, not hurting me or making me more

fucked up. if there was just one way to

save this blog, by god, i would be right

onto it. but i think its already fucked. i

think shes going to delete it. so now ive

decided i dont give a shit what she thinks

anymore. im going on my blog anytime

i can, regardless of consequences. fuck

this. its my blog and ill save it in my own

special way.

ps: look! its the giraffe top i keep talking about haha

a million tabs are open, only one counts.

'cara youve been on long enough... how long does it take to find information on this?'
long enough... ill be off soon...
'you better be little missy...'
mm...

the mouse clicks and i change tabs sporadically.
this is ridiculous.
im under attack in my own room. 
but then again...
im prisoner in my own house. 
im watched in my own haven.
im forced to obey in my own life.

i flip through the tabs and make little notes concerning
what im actually meant to be doing. i feel empowered.
and scared shitless.
its only a frigging laptop. why do they make such a big
deal of controlling everything down to the details.










i have started writing again, not just on my blog.
all my life i have written things...
stories, poems, pieces, diary style entries.
my blog gave me an excuse to really get into it i guess.
but now even without the audience i find joy in writing.
my first story, is about a young girl, Sparrow in the early
1900's, she decides to escape her home life and run
away. mm, its such a dream of mine... my second story,
ive barely finished the plans for, but its going to be
kind of about us. all of us. smoking, drinking, boys,
skateparks, running away, hating parents, falling in love,
stalking people on facebook... being depressed and
emotionally ensure. wish me luck, i begin typing on
my antique typewriter, tonight. miss you all,
xx cara.isabella