Thoughts by Sydney

Monday, October 6, 2014

Shiver // Lucy Rose

How do you go from telling someone you love them everyday to just, not? Did something just change? Did she change? Did he change? Did he decide that before he left he wanted to be able to do whatever it is he wanted? Not have to worry about making her feel okay? Not worry about her in general? Not to have to say he has a girlfriend that totally loves him and would have done anything and still would do anything for him if he needed it? When the only thing he ever had to do to keep her happy was tell her hello and I love you at the end of the day? And ask how her day was? She didn't think that was much to ask for. Just a "hello" "I love you" or a "see you soon I miss you" is not a lot to ask. But now that's over and honestly it is strange being with other people. It just doesn't feel right at all. It feels so wrong being in the arms of some other guy. To let him kiss and hug her. It's feels truly wrong. And she hates to say that. Because she knows they are broken up but it does feel like it because no one cheated, no one faught, no one hurt the other like how most people break up over. It was because he didn't want a girlfriend. It feels wrong because she still cares for him. A lot and she feels she has lost him. She wished you weren't leaving, maybe things would have been different, she wished she didn't give that second chance because nothing ever changes... People don't change. But she is a hopeless romantic, who just can't seem to let it go. It may seem she is doing just fine with her small smile and a laugh that isn't hers at all. She puts it all up, going on because she doesn't want him to think she is hurting as much as she is. It's horrible for her mentally but keeps telling herself she can do it. "I am a big girl she tells herself, and big girls don't cry." She can keep her head up. She just misses you in her life. Wishes you were still in her life, that part that made her eyes sparkle again for the first time I years, her mother said it was the first time in forever. I'd give anything to have even the smallest part of you in my life, but I know what you'll say..... Sydney. That's just "unrealistic".

Friday, September 19, 2014

Call center poetry

I'm sitting here in this chair, it's not a comfortable one. Swaying back and fort, staring at the empty seat across from me. It's black and has a crease down the middle. Well not really the middles it off to the side a bit. There is a lot of chatter going on. But nothing that interests me. "Hello, please leave a mess..." I cut off the machine because I'm sick of leaving this messages. "Hello, no one is avail..." I cut it off again because I realize that no one is there. "Hello?" A soft voice says, but before I can even say my own name she hangs up.

Late mornings and early nights

Tick tick tick tick

I have 30 minutes left

I have 30 minutes till I go home

30 minutes till I sit and wait

Tick tick tick tick

Wait for a text or call that I won't receive

A text that means nothing and everything

And I guess that everything doesn't matter

Tick tick tick tick

That text will make me feel okay

But there is nothing like seeing your face

Blonde hair, scruffy cheeks, blue eyes that's look at me with love and compassion with a side order of shyness

Tick tick tick tick

Soon those scruffy cheeks will be smooth

Those blue eyes full of confidence

A uniform of bravery

Tick tick tick tick

Time will only tell what happens here

Tick, find yourself

Tick, lose the bullshit

Tick, love life

Tick, don't forget, me...

Sunday, July 20, 2014

Stolen heaven

I was in the winter of my life

And the men I met along the road

We're my only summer

And I fell asleep to visions of myself

Dancing, laughing, and crying with them

3 years down the line, across a tour

And the memories of them are the only things that sustained me

And my only real happy times

I was a sinner, and not a very popular one

I once has dreams of becoming a beautiful poet

But upon a series of unfortunate events

All those dreams dashed and divided like a the thousands of stars in the sky

But I watched them over and over again

Sparkling and broken

But I didn't really mind

Because I knew that it takes losing everything you ever wanted to know what true freedom is

When the people I used to know had found out what I had been living

They'd ask me why, but there is no use in talking to people who have a home

They have no idea what it's like to seek safety in other people

For home to be where ever you lie your head

I was always n unusual girl

My mother told me I had a camelian soul

No moral compass pointing due north

No fixed personality

Just an inner indecisiveness that was as wide and wavering as the ocean

And if I didn't plan for it to turn out this way I'd be lying

I belonged to no one

Who had nothing

And wanted everything

A fire for every experience and an obsession for freedom

That terrified me to the point that I couldn't even talk about it

Pushes me to a nomadic point of madness that both dazzled and dizzied me

Sunday, July 13, 2014

Likes, Favorites, and Retweets

There was once a time when life wasn't about your latest Instagram photo and how many retweets and favorites you got on a tweet. Where your self esteem wasn't based on your followers and the amount if likes you got on a selfie. What happened? Why do we all care so much? Are we seeking attention from others because we never get the sufficient love from the people we call our parents? Or because we are just begging to be noticed upon this large rock that revolves around the sun. 7.046 billion. That is our "competition" and we can't help it but what the entire mass to notice us. I am just at fault as you are. I just want to be noticed. Get hundreds of likes on a photo that my best friend took of me. To get to a thousand followers because literally every and their grandmother does. But here I sit with my phone in my hand refreshing the damn feed. Hoping to see someone follow me so I can get over this stupid 589. Why don't we all just not give a shit? Because your value doesn't depend on your likes. Your favorites. Your retweets. Unless you @kswizzle because for some reason she always brings that one tweet that got 367 retweets and 1,265 favorites. Just so it can start all over again? Why does it matter? I feel so stupid thinking about it. Why do I care? Why do you care? Can't we all just get a grip or reality and realize that the people who favorite your tweets and like your selfies are not going to help you get married. Or help you graduate college. Or build your resume. Or help you fix yourself. You build yourself so why don't we make the commitment to not care so much about our Phones, iPods, the likes, favorites and retweets, and start doing things to build ourselves.

Thanks for listening.