Thursday, January 29, 2009

pain before bliss

Nothing gets perfect, it just gets easier. Even when shit starts to hit rock bottom, we just get use to it...until eventually we can receive one ounce, one minute, or one moment of happiness. Pointblank, things seem to go wrong before they can turn good. And when its good, its really good. I think that's what makes me except all the evils in this world.
I can float for a thousand lifetimes on clouds in heaven but hells never far enough to remind me of reality. I can burn to ashes, peeled of flesh in hell...but heavens never far enough to lift me back up.
When my halo is shining above my pretty face, I've got horns in the back of my ass poking at my every mistake.
when I want to hurt someone and put them through misery, my brain tells me whats right and wrong and I contemplate the good in me.
As perfect as I can be is as dangerous as I am to myself, I am my own enemy, I am my own friend, I control my own honestly, I control my own sins.
In this life sometimes I will bleed, cry, and weep the tears to order to wake up in sunshine and feel a bliss full breath.
What goes around comes around, and what comes around is what you get.
When you feel like going asleep in darkness and never waking up, think about the six million other people who surround you in such lightness.
Though some are jerk offs and some are fake, some are true and some are great, you and me are ones that are needed.
And every mistake may take us closer to the solution.

Friday, January 16, 2009

Split Heart

My heart seperates into two peices like the cutting of a stake or the peeling of an orange. I lose the control I have and every ounce of urge tells me to grab whats in front of me. Your almost like my prized possesion and above all among whats mines is yours to make your own. I just want to look after you. I just want to make you understand exactly what it is you do to me, even though I can barely understand it myself. You never know what to say. You struggle to speak the emotions that you seek and its amazing how yet I would do anything to touch your flesh. I would do anything to lay in your arms no matter how many people tell me its wrong. There are six million people in this world, six million souls searching for answers, six million shattered, six million broken, six million healed, six million working, three million honest, three million truthfull, some that are older, some that are youthfull, some that don't see that beauty of your smile, and then there is me...who could stay for a while by your side. Lets lean on eachother because who knows when its all over. Lets pack away our bags and explore this place, because I don't know the next time I will see your face, I don't know that much of anything, I'm as smart as I am stupid, if one God is the only God then I am my own cupid. Your eyes tell a story of things I never seen, your nose smells the fragrace that lyes on my sleeve, your lips show kisses that feel like heaven is miles or inches away, but then there will be hell in the back of our minds. This past is a past in which we can never rewind. The time won't let me go, it just goes faster and faster reminding me that lifes shorter then we all know. And yet, I chose to seek noone else in a world filled with about six million people who share my same heartbeat and make my knees just as week. But, the truth is none of them can do what you do. They all seperate my heart into many more peices then you do. They all seperate my heart until theres nothing left. All I need is two peices, one for me and one to place inside your chest. I'm missing you hard and needing you bad. If there is no tommorow then at least theres always what we had.

Butterfly Effect

I use to have blackouts and faint across the floor, I thought I could forget the past that haunted my mind, but then I found a way to alter events and stop the time, I use to wonder if I would ever see you again, we use to be inseperable and then that came to an end, when we grew up and followed the rules and went to work and went to school, my life was normal, my life was just right, but then of corse there always comes the night, in the night I shook and screamed and my nose bled of empty sneezes, the butterfly effect is a disorder in which use to affect my brain, it use to until the day that it started to return again, and on that day I made a choice to visit my old friends, I asked them if they remembered how I use to black out .
They all turned out far different from my expectations, some that exceeded them and some that just met them, I read the old journals that the doctor told me to write when I was little, to help let go of feelings unknown and desires I couldn't fill, and as I read them slowly my mind reacted with sharp motion, like some magic potion my college bedroom turned into the old basement where we hid in when we were young. Now i wish the reading never begun. Now I wish I could be human, normal, and desent to never hurt you or your world, but I missed my old lover and so I tried to change things. Things I shouldn't have changed, things I wanted to. But in the end I came to find that not everything is right in our states of mind, we can't make dreams come true, either they don't or they do, either they will or they won't. Either my lover and I will be together or the distance that has kept us apart for years will stay in place, and do its absolute best to keep us away from eachother. There are many things I wish to say to you but I don't know how. You don't have to believe me, you just have to save me.
I burned my journals when my blackouts stoped. For the first time in my entire life stuff made sense. I made alot of new friends and stayed in college, and after a couple good years I got a nice job. I was walking on wallstreet the other day looking dapper and not thinking of anything, until in a crowd of hundreds of people on the busy streets of the city, out stood your face, your hair, your smile and you looked so pretty, You turned your cheek and looked strangely at me as though you were about to speak, you stoped walking for a moment, just stood there glancing at me in shook and distortion, and as I was going to yell your name I realized that even if you remebered me I wanted to remember you just the same, just as you were, walking across the street to a destination in which your blissfull, and that is why I turned my head away from your back and kept on walking and called a taxi cab. Its better this way. You should't have ever knew me. But I'm so glad I knew you. I don't believe that anybody understood me the way you did, even if we were just silly kids, with silly problems and silly issues, the best moments of my life were the moments where I would blackout and dream about kissing you. As you kept walking down the street with the fancy heels apon your feet, one question kept crawling in my mind. What did she see as she turned her face and looked at mine?
Its a crazy life we all have, but its only one.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009


MaryJane was her name and she spoke of words that meant all the same things. She had a knife, she had a gun, she would pull the trigger if you pissed her off. She was blond but no stereotype could fit. She was smarter then a nerd and hotter then other chicks. She was well-rounded and stable grounded and had it all planned out ahead. She was eager to get out there, she was eager to regret. She smoked sometimes and was as blunt as the blunt that she held in her hand. She drank for fun and not to forget about all her past sins. She lived her life. I use to be like MaryJane. I use to walk on rainy days. I use to see the pretty sky for what it was. I never cried. But then you came. I use to tell you to your face when you were acting like an ass but then you always found a way to make me give in way too fast. I use to want you to live like me...unaware and not affected by life's cruelties. But then I met you, and you found a way to open up my big blue eyes and show me otherwise. You cut my name like from MaryJane to Jane and said it was much shorter, you cut my tides with all my friends and said they were too much older, but you need to grow up. You changed me like the change in seasons, when everything stays the same but new precipitation starts leaking. You broke me down and tore out fragments of my heart, which is basically my fault because I knew that you would do that from the start. I knew that this would happen but I don't even care. You honestly make me want to pull apart my hair. The truth is I'm walking in the city with bright lights shining and nothing to believe in except for our love. The saddest part is thats exactly what I gave up.

Sunday, January 4, 2009


When everything changes, when everyones gone, going down south, moving right along,
when the people I know aren't the people I knew, and the block that we wrote our names on
turns scribbled and blue, when my best friends distant, or I have moved, when people lie, and
people speak truth, maybe going back is what will save us.
When life throws curve balls, and snow never ever falls, when you look on myspace and see old friends, realizing what might have been,
when nobody stays in one place anymore, so far away from the place we once were,
when on those nights we ran in converse, ran taking pictures, walked as teenagers, walked together,
when today is now or today is never, when Ive got a couple of dollars, when you know your family misses it too, when I ride that train, I'm gunna ride it back to you.
when I see our names I'm gunna write them all again, when newcomers come I'm gunna tell them of our little sins,
change was my fear, change was my enemy, and I now find that it is a remedy,
for too much is dangerous, and too little is no good,
when everything changes, we're gunna make it how it should be. Tomorrow I'm gunna chill with people who don't compare,
the next day I'm gunna pretend that they are who I care about,
tomorrow your gunna say that things are better this way, that you love your new place, with your big house, and past mistakes, the next day your gunna dream and ponder on what life really means,
its all the same again, was it the same before? routines are harder to forget when you've left them on your old bedroom floor, things seem easy when you've done them so many times before.
and that's why change probably comes about, making life not repetitive, but leaving doubt,
theres always some kind of doubt.


I really should just except the fact that we arent who we were. I am here and you are there, so very close, but so far away. Im just trying to get through all the other aspects of my life without you. I want to be in the city, so the dizzy lights and the rampid people can distract me. Somedays I think about leaving after Im through with school, but then I think that when I'm gone Im still going to remember you. Your a lost soul, one that I believed in. Im a lost girl, without a care anymore. Honestly, I always do have good intentions. You haven't spoken a word in weeks. Lord knows I'm confident so its your loss...but thats the problem this time its mine. When the lights go out and your with someone else and the sheets rise up on her legs and her belt, you'll think of me. If not this time, then the next, because sugar I'm hard to forget. You can't sense the anger and you never will, cause I play it off like I've taken multiple pills. All my life I've tried to find someone with a reason or purpuse, a goal or compatability, but noone can determine who they will become because in the blink of an eye people change, and everything changes along with the person. I walk down 42 street to a familiar place where we use to eat and believe me, its not easy to see you again. We have our awkward stages of what we should say and what we can't. How is it going to be when you don't know me anymore? Everyone makes their remarks and attacks and vendettas against me, concentrating into my business to see the next flaw till I'm empty. I won't let the little things interrupt my mind. Its 10:05 p.m. I just want to sit in your arms and watch the stars untill they fade again. I just want to fall asleep and wake up in your bed. I just want to wake up for once and have it all not be in my head. I just want it to be reality. Nothing else really matters. Now I see that what you want isn't always what you need. I think I need some starbucks coffee.

How we met

It was raining.
Only alittle bit, but it was raining.
My hair was straightened, so I was mad.
But I was happy that Id get to meet you.
So ignoring the rain I walked blocks from home to your house, who knew we lived this close.
I crossed the street, almost got hit.
It was rare, I kissed you as soon as I saw you.
I think I changed you.
I think I made you a better person, but I don't take so much credit,
because you changed me too.
Honey, I have grown.
Honey, we have lost touch.
Should I have been more observant?
Or kept on texting you?
Or gave all of myself into nothing?
No, I think maybe you just moved on.
Good, I know your bad for me anyways.
But, honestly, I still love you like I did yesterday.
I cling, and I hold on for dear life, and I don't let go easily.
Sorry if thats a bad thing.
I won't change myself.
I've changed alot already.
And if you can't see it then I guess Im just not transparent.
I read your comments.
I just got curious.
She said her name was ashley.
She looked as common as her name.
Well I doubt your with her.
But you might have had some fun.
Gosh I hope you didn't go back to your old ways.
Oh, remember that time I basically called you a slut and you got quite defensive,
well then again you use to play football, so I guess your good at defense.
Im clever, aren't I?
Well, you think your a man.
So, we're even.
I never meant to complicate things.
I never would've came into your life.
But if your thinking about me too, then you'll be glad that I did.
And, if your thinking about me too, then no goodbuys are nessacery.
Because if we think about eachother enough, we can think of the next time to see eachother.
I'm missing you, and all of your deception too.
Babe its amazing the things that love can do.

Friday, January 2, 2009

Why Tears Shed

I still think its better to turn away from you because your probably not the best thing for me. Your probably going to break me down like the little molecules that exist inside our stomachs, until nothing consumes me but the pain and you love it. And its so stange the way you think I don't know what your doing, but your just the same as the other humans that ruin it. And thats just a shame cause I know we could have pulled through it. Would I have been something you'd be good at? the first and only thing you wouldnt mess up? Babe dont lie to yourself, we both know your not the type of person that loves. But deep down there in the pit of your heart I saw a beat that matched mine. Heaven never competes with hell because hell has too much fire to water down. In other words I really can't find something that is already found. I cannot change who you are because your intentions are final. You know how they say what goes around comes around? Well its funny because I gave my love and it hasnt came back to you, must just be the bad shit. Im always going to see you and wonder what could have been. And your probably going to be through with her and think about me in the end. But this is the farewell to a ship that never even sailed, and you know Im no good at goodbuys. But the fact of the matter is I always knew someday you'd see me cry. The weekest part of me is that I don't want you to see how I truely need you, and the weekest part of you is that you don't want me to see how much you crave me too. If only we showed eachtoher. Im sorry if i made you feel the horror of a commitment, but just like that stoogie that you inhale, the drag last long enough for not even a witness. You can cough me up just like Im your first time and even spit me out cause you don't like the taste of my kind, just like I was nicotine, but burning me out on that ash trey just won't do, I can either be in your life or I can act like someone you never knew. Though everyone told me that I should turn away from you because you probably werent the best thing for me, does anyones word even matter in the end, you are there and I am here, on our own we start again. I cannot absorb my loss because I believe if its meant to happen then it will, and if at this exact moment you are believing that too you should be messaging my phone. They can make a strong enough pill to kill the pain of a bunch of broken bones, but not the heart. And thats why tears shed.

Summer In The City

well I could sit and stare and smoke this cigarette,
another type of love to think of and reminisce on his regrets,
the winters over, but the cold still stays with me,
I'd collapse at the bar and write a song on how we use to be,
but a drag it takes to forget, I can never forget your name, bobby and Dylan, they were all the same,
its summer in the city, and right now I'm on my own, baby there is a space in between you, me, and the telephone.
I like how things started, clean and not bombarded,
well its so crowded and yet I walk alone, I'm walking deeper and deeper till I stop and reach your new home, its a good enough reason to turn pages in our old scrapbook, pull out a pic of us just as a reminder of how good things looked,
and leaves are growing on these trees again, trees that give me hope, let me know a good seasons here again, before I see him and choke,
I just died in your arms tonight, love is always so black and white,
I turn the corner near a fancy restaurant, but I'm losing my appetite,
tonight I'm sure I'll slip into something more comfortable, open my mac and write a little about love and all,
tomorrow I'm sure, I'll eat some breakfast then open the door, let some breeze in, look at the sights, and open my mac to write a little about predictions on life
if this is where it ends then I'm glad to have explored you,
my parting gift would be a shot with some friends that goes out to the one and only you,
because I could sit and stare and smoke this cigarette,
another type of love to think of and reminisce on his regrets,
but babe you know I'm not repetitive, so instead I'll put this one out,
I guess this is what summer in the city is all about.

Writer's Block

There was a man with an intention to become a famous writer, and his hopes, his dreams, everything he could ever imagined came true. He wrote in his blackberry and lab top, along side of his coffee in the morning, or the night. He wrote about day to day basics that are far more complex then we can understand. He thought about how it would be if people around the world could actually hear his voice. Surely, they did. He was sitting at a local Starbucks when a older, corporate man came up to him and asked to read what he was writing. And so, his first book finally got published. It sold throughout stores, Barns & Nobles, etc. In the blink of an eye his life had gone from dreaming to dreaming out loud. Well he had never married. He didn't really want kids. He felt he was too busy with his career. One day he met a women in a pharmacy. He goes to get sleeping pills, always suffered from insomnia. The women was tall, lean, a brunette with exquisite green eyes, very stunning. She made the first move. They did something he said he would never, get married and have two kids. I guess someone can change your mind about the finer things in life. Everything, even things he never use to want, had been going great. So one cold night, he opens his lab top and starts to write. His writing flows through the screen smoothly until..his chest starts to swell. The writing stops. He's stuck on what to write next. The next night he tries again, and nothing comes to mind. The next morning he tries again and nothing comes to mind. He went to the doctor to get advice and check his chest. He finds out he has a disease. He comes home to tell his wife the bad news. He opens his bedroom door and finds his wife on top of another man. She turns, shocked to see her husband and says "oh honey What are you doing here, your not suppose to be home for another hour!" "Its not what it looks like!" He says nothing, and walks out. They file for divorce. He gets custody of the children. But, his books haven't been selling and he starts to worry about money. He can no longer provide for himself and the two children. The kids miss their mother. He knows what he has to do. He takes them back to her. He walks home realizing he is now alone, again. He goes to the pharmacy, this time not for just sleeping pills. He walks out the pharmacy, and his car gets a ticket. He can't pay for it. No one showed up to his first book signing. He use to know a guy who sold a lot of drugs. He went to him, asked him what would make him feel better. He went home and snorted as much as he could. A year passed. He went home and he dragged himself on his floor and for the first time since he was ten, he cried. He cried so much. He had everything and now nothing. And no one knows the name of this man anymore. He opens his lab top and starts to write. This time he has something to write about... his life. It took two more years to write about the pity he feels for himself. When he sits on the train he looks at the people and they all seem so blank. They look at him like he's a monster. He went to his publicist. The publicist read about his life. It became his second book. The publicist offered him help. So, he went to rehab. A year later his publicist payed him a visit. "How are you doing?" "I feel like myself again." "Good. I spoke to your ex wife, she wants to have joint custody if your better when you get out of here." "I also wanted to let you know that when you get out of here things will be different for you. Your book is doing great. People really admire your determination to let them into your life. Your a wealthy man." He stood in the facility and he felt the air surround him. He felt again what it means to breath. He didn't care about the money, he just wanted to see his kids again. He just wanted to see sunlight. Later, he got out of rehab. He took steps outside and felt like a newborn child, except now he had the knowledge of the horrible and amazing things that could happen to humans. His chest stopped hurting so much. He went to his doctor. He found out his disease was gone. He went home and for the first time since he was ten, slept the whole night through. A couple of months later he sat on the train on his way to pick up his children and all the people smiled at him, like he was normal. A teenager was reading his second book, called "Writers Block." She looked up at him. " wow, are you Johnny Brooks?" Now some body knows his name.


Welcome to the "write" life blog. I'm Lindsey marie lopez, a Puertorican, Irish, and Italian female writer living in Newyork city and my blog will consist of numerous writing of mine...from day to day life in Newyork to poetry and fashion.