Dear Darkness

By PJ Harvey

"Dear darkness

Dear darkness
Won't you cover, cover me again?
Dear darkness, dear
I've been your friend for many years.

Won't you do this for me, Dearest Darkness
And cover me from the sun
And the words tightening
The words are tightening
Around my throat and, and

Around the throat of the one I love
Tightening, tightening, tightening
Around the throat of the one I love
Tightening, tightening, tightening

Dear Darkness
Dear Darkness
Now it's your time to look after us

Cause we kept your clothes, we kept your business
When everyone else was having good luck

So now it's your time, time to pay
To pay me and the one I love
With the worldly goods you stashed away
With all the things you took from us."

Going through my mixed CDs of yore. I feel like I am listening to an audio diary. I remember sitting on the floors of Murrow, right outside the social studies office with my discman and a notebook in hand. My discman! Would you believe I owned one of those only a few years ago?

"We can always play by ear, but that's the deal my dear."

I will not forget that I am strong. I will not forget that I have remarkable will-power. I will not forget that I have my whole life ahead of me to experience. This is not the end. This is the beginning. There are adventures to have, people to meet, places to go. Life is far from perfect. It is difficult as hell much of the time, but I've gotten through this much, and I can and will persist.

I will not hope for things to get better, I will MAKE them better by smiling. Living each moment to the fullest. Not taking my presence for granted.

I am here, so I may as well be here fully.

Don't you understand? I am brilliant. I am funny. I am talented. I am beautiful. I am understanding. I am forgiving. I am easy-going. You would be LUCKY to have me.

But you don't understand that, I guess. And it's your loss if you don't!

God, let this be done already. Let it end. All of it.

I am overwhelmed. I think I will be quitting The Envoy next semester whether or not I'm leaving NYC. I did it once so I have nothing to prove. I know I can do it. I was a damn good editor, but now, I need a semester to myself.

I just need time to process EVERYTHING. How can I work like this?

I don't even know if I want to go away next semester. I don't know what I want anymore. To sleep. That's all I really want. To sleep until I'm free.

A Work In Progress

I am seesaw

I am sway

Am black,

Am white,

But never gray.

I am fly,

But I am land

On the margins

Of somewhere

Nowhere

Sunk in sand.

I am seesaw,

I am swing.

I am plummet,

Backslide,

Nose dive.

I am spring.

I am plunge

But,

I am fly.

I am hello

To be goodbye.

I am soar

I am persist

But,

I am cease

To be desist.

I am be

To be become

I am add

But never sum.

I am Dare

I am Defy

But,

I am bear

To fail to try.

I am shout

But also stutter

I am falter

Sometimes flutter

I am seesaw,

I am shift.

Here not there,

And,

There not here,

I am

I am

Am I?

I am breathe,

I am exist

Or perhaps,

I am Imagine

Spawn of Wish.

I seem solid

But

I am seem

I am neither here

Nor there

Merely muscle

Made of dream.

I've swallowed the butterflies I was trying to catch. They are fluttering about in my intestines, tickling me from within.

Here's to hoping I don't throw up.