physically held back

Things are happening and I don't even care. I stare at things and just feel haunted. I've been fighting against the current for so long and I'm just tired of getting pushed down. I have fire inside but I can't express it anymore. Physically, I am held back. My injury has put me out of commission for weeks and all I want is to be able to dance again. I just want to run and leap and turn again. But, I can't. I'm broken.

Giving In

I was always a normal little girl. I had dreams, an overactive imagination. I always wanted to be grown up. I wanted to be pretty and smart. I was a normal girl. Then, I just got tired. I got tired of other people's opinions. I got tired of a million unfullfilled dreams. I got tired of myself. Being so exhausted, I gave up. Liar, Liar, Lizzy <3

Identity

Secluded. I'm hiding. That's what I am. I use false names online and only reveal myself through my emotions. Even then, they only show themselves on paper, never on my face.

Can't Stop this Feeling

What is this strange addiction? The urge to form letters with a lead tipped instrument. The delight I feel at seeing the gray stains on my knuckles. The loops of words forming as more thoughts burble forth from the labyrinth that rests within my head. The scratched at words seem dark and foreboding. My joy and fear all wrapped into one action. Writing.

I Feel Pretty

I had always wanted to be beautiful. When I was quite young I always imagined myself so. My actions were rather embarrassing as I look back on them. I always admired beauty, and people who were beautiful either had my undying devotion or my undying jealosy. Now, even as people tell me so, I cannot bring myself to call my appearance beautiful. I suppose I have had such an enormous and interested view on beauty that I still find myself unchanged from that ackward little girl that clung to her beautiful dreams. Can it happen overnight? Beauty?

I Just Want to Dance

I start to give in and my mind surges with refusal.My dark thoughts will plant seeds in my soul but then... A feeling of strength uproots them. I will not give in. This feeling won't let me. It pushes me to strive. What is this feeling? It's magnitude is indescribable. It wells up from the deep recesses of my soul. It allows me to imagine myself in light. In a place for all eyes to see. It shows me glimpses of a life that could be mine. What is this feeling? Some call it dreaming... I call it passion.

Monster

My monster inside cannot be tamed. It boils. It flames. It consumes. It unleashes fury that destroys everything. Like a wild horse, It runs rampant, ploughing its hooves into the soft soil of my soul. It crushes bones and bodies beneath its feet without a second thought.

The Power of Flirtation

I like flirting. Knowing that I can arouse such feelings in the opposite sex is very satisfying. It gives one a sense of control. It makes you feel like you have some power over something in this crazy world. I certainly don't want to hurt anyone but, little moments of control boost my self esteem. Simply the knowledge of my gift raises my spirits. My little actions like smiling, laughing, or even tilting my head can dictate what others are feeling or thinking. Call me evil but... I'm beginning to like the idea that I could manipulate people this way. It makes me think that I might go somewhere someday. Liar, Liar, Lizzy <3

please wait. brain is processing.

OK....sooo, I have a lot more posts coming(just stuff that I wrote down in random notebooks and stuff(but kinda cool))but it's taking me awhile. First, because I'm lazy, and second, because my computer is slow to load them. I will try to get most of them out before september. *whisper* try to psychicly connect with me and yell at me to do that. I don't know...mindmeld hasn't always worked in my experiance but it's worth a shot (anything to get my butt moving) Liar, Liar, Lizzy <3

suicide

Many people dissapprove of me when I speak lighlty of suicide. I never think lightly of suicide, though. I hold a deep fascination for it. I ponder it in it's meanings and the many, many motives behind it. I suppose this is because I came in very close contact to it myself. I speak lightly of it in an almost reverent manner. My regard is for it's many levels of depth. Ever aware of it's dangers and it's consequences I remain in awe of this idea. I may speak lightly but, believe me, my heart and mind speak differently. I speak one thing but think another. I am, after all, Your Liar, Liar, Lizzy...

spontaneous choreography

It's funny... after an intensive week of dancing my mind seems to still be running in that mode. Every time I hear music playing, the tune or the lyrics will trigger images in my mind of contemporary choreography. Just a phrase or a few notes and I'll start feeling it expressed in movement. I can picture certain poses or movements and my mind says, "Hey...this would be good for that"

losing myself...

I used to be able to dance with all my being…. I could let myself go and laugh at myself. I loved it and all I wanted to do was dance. Nothing mattered. The only thing that was important was when I took the stage and began to dance. Whatever happened before, in the studio, didn’t matter. Whatever happened afterwards didn’t matter either. I was always in the moment. Glad and excited to be onstage and filled with an unexplainable joy for what I was doing. It felt like a light was shining right from my heart and filling the entire theater. It was fun and I didn’t care if I messed up. When I started to seriously consider my future I worked harder and concentrated so much that I hated every mistake I made. I started feeling like I wasn’t good enough which made me strive harder. The constant drive I had was because I knew that I loved dancing. My mind knew it but… my mind kept forgetting it. I wouldn’t even smile anymore when I danced. I wouldn’t let go and just let the dance take me. The one thing that killed my dancing was my love for it…

vulnerable

The entire time you talk, you stare straight ahead. You walk at a swift and concentrated pace. Then they say something that might mean something else. Your adrenaline rushes as you hope and dream that that’s what they meant. You turn to look at them and as you stare into their face, searching for the same emotion that you feel, you feel yourself open up. You bare your feelings to them right on your face as you stare into their eyes. You let them see the most beautiful part of you. You make yourself vulnerable in the hope that they will make themselves vulnerable. You feel your face soften into the most relaxed, joyful expression you have ever felt as you open a passageway straight to your soul and let them peek in.

Who am I?

My heart beating in my chest is like a playful, elusive breeze. Jumping. Skipping a beat. And then flittering away. My hair falls in tangles around my shaking shoulders. My dress carries the salty stains of tears. My hand and arm tremble as my body tries to convey what my soul cannot. Terrible frightening words issue from my mouth as a stare at a face in the mirror. The face seems familiar...I know it...It is mine. Who am I? I am Maria.

ruined plans

I'm looking in a reflection of darkness
I see my time over and done
just an incident of happenstance
a twisted ankle, an aching bone.

I've worked so hard
and achieved so much
I'm gonna lose all i had
it hurts to touch.

it's not just my ankle
my soul is injured as well
I got myself in this pickle
i'll get myself out of hell.

nothing will stop me
I'll pick myself up
misfortune thinks he can touch me
he's full of crap.

I'm a trooper and I will survive
I'll leap through fire to achieve my dreams
I'll smile and give them a high five
my heart is strong and my face beams.

 

I found this online as fan art ("sorrow's true love" by jeni). It's from the book series "wildwood" by juliet marillier. I've read the two books and they are extremely good and to my taste. They are whimsical fairytales with suspense, romance, danger etc. The author is very well informed and does her research. I suggest reading these. I just had to post this picture because the scenery is just how I imagined it in the book! The first book is called, "Wildwood Dancing" and the second, "Cybele's Secret" I highly recomend reading them, I couldn't put them down.

little ugly girl

the little ugly girl doesn't know
if she can trust this feeling
or if she should show
that her heart is bleeding

she knows she's not pretty
she knows he's just a guy
but is it just friendly?
or do his feelings fly?

she knows he could't love her
and that to believe would be to die
but can she trust herself and refer
to love's never ending cry?

everytime she says goodbye
she cries a little inside
she knows she shouldn't try
and that she should just hide

just one of those days

Just one of those days
only a rut I'm in
that's all my mouth says
there's more underneath my skin.

I can't talk to people
my head won't let me
my body is careful
but my soul longs to be free.

I would fly away
if this shell would let me
I would dance on clouds
but I am not free.

Today I am dead
probably tomorrow too
I want out of this head
I want to be true.

If the world were perfect
people would see
they would respect
the real me.

The person who flies
who has grown wings
not the person that lies
hear this, it rings.