You Can't Wake, I Can't Sleep

I want a relationship with a future.

I want wedding bells ringing faintly off in the not too far but not too close distance.

I don't want to build something else that's just gonna inevitably self-destruct because of distance or some other factor.

I'm just tired of wasting time on things that aren't gonna work and saying it was a beautiful learning experience.

Tired of hiding behind things I know won't work out, so I don't have to ever face something that might.

I felt so alive. The characters were so alive. The possibilities were an endless dream. Everything came to life. And I was so high and I never wanted to come down. And nothing else mattered. And I didn’t need anybody. And I wasn’t thinking about anybody. And all my desires were just life on a page, life I could breathe in. I needed the characters. they were the blood, the breath. and i was thriving on the attention. and i had a voice and i was heard, and seen. i was not the ghost of the break haunting the deli a foot behind everyone else, listening to bits of their conversation, standing away and observing. i was not the mystery i craved to be. i was there. i was still whispering, but they heard me. they heard me. one of them spoke to me and i awkwardly smiled and he said “your problem is you have too many ideas. i should be lucky to have such a problem. you have like eight screen plays in there.”
my inner life was bleeding on the pages and they were sucking down my blood like vampires and i thought, “yes, get fat on me”.
and in the cab coming home i was so high that i knew i could only come DOWN and i was writing poems in my head and they were about balms and bliss and moon kissed street lights blurring by and i was the constellation, i was the sky.
and then i came home and i fell and fell because what else is there to do?
and my falling empty was seeping out and i was infecting people like a poison, my bad blood the leeches had left behind, onto you, into you.
and i could feel the life seeping out of me and the bad mood setting in.
and the three screenplays to critique and the appeal to rewrite and i wanted life to go back to the place where nothing was real but that moment.
that moment that had nothing to do with the desiring of other people, or love or crushes or relationships.
just me. happy on my own. just me, being enough. or feeling like enough in and of myself.

but here i am again...

I Need:

i need an intoxicated rush
i need a cigarette kiss
i need some promise
of some imaginary bliss
i need some mystery
i need some stars
to not be obscured by my smog
i need a swoon, i need a snog
i need a breath of life
or a taste of fresh virgin blood
craving that adrenaline flood

“you can rush in so hard and
make it so i can’t breathe
you know i breathe too much anyway
i can do that any day....” - ani-ness

saw "the wedding crashers" and totally fell in love with rachel mcadams or rachel mcadam's character or something. that girl is *exquisite*, she's like the perfect girl. her laugh, her eyes, everything...she never fails to be anything but captivating no matter who she's playing. i wanna marry that chick!!!

then i came home and took a nap and had a dream about hilary duff and it was all innocent and warm and snuggly and swoonsome and smoochie.

weird.

the tide just turned?

eh...not really.

i need to make kristin an icon that says "i heart bridget's ass in panties" hehe

i was dating my friend lisa (who's straight) but she was breaking up with me because i was calling out for amy (one of my exes) in my sleep.

we were in a cafe and i was wearing just a towel with soaking wet hair.

lisa was in the middle of talking when i saw ben mckenzie and adam brody.

and i was like "yeah, i'll be back" and i just left her there.

i went right up to ben and took his picture because of course i had my camera even though i had neglected to get dressed.

he looked at me strangely and i was like "okay?" and he shrugged and then made some joke about my attire and then was like "but your hair looks really pretty, all long and dark" and i was like "nooo it's not dark, it's just wet. it's blonde." and he was like "oh i was thinking of growing my hair longer" and i was like "yeah totally do it, very kurt cobain" and he was like "well very popstar something" and adam brody shoved his cup of something at me and was like "i don't get how the top stays on" and i was like "oh because there are all these little grooves and like..." and i was examining the cup. and this is what i was saying out loud when my sister walked in and woke me up.

she said "What about the top of the cup?? what?"

so nothing hot happened. because i woke up. waking up sucks.

no oc-riffic threesome for jenna!

even in my dreams, i can never score.

*sulks*