the art of depression

There once was an artist

Who painted a picture

Painted on a canvas, white as snow.

Two children who began to row

Down the river into a dream

Of love ‘til it began to tear at the seam

Revealing a life of pain and cries

Seen in dead eyes

It is here that this painting resides

But the paint was made of lies

And the canvas was her life

And her paintbrush was her knife

So deeper she breathed the happy air

Deeper more became her hole of despair

Until she could not longer climb out

And no one listened to her shout

So she painted a picture in her head

A dark sad picture filled with red

She saw the end of the tunnel ahead

Smiled even though she would soon be dead

For a life tied together with a smile

Is bound to come undone in too short a while

So if you are tempted to take your life

I will counsel you to think twice

And think of those that you leave behind

There, you will surely find

The strength to carry on.

First draft...... feedback? i am out of my writers block which is a good thing. the spiderwebs have been somewhat evacuated from the backdoor of my head and i am beginning again.... 

day 9- my beliefs

there is a lot that i believe in. but there is also a lot i dont believe in. so i guess i will start with the latter. i dont believe that middle school/highschool guys know how to love or what it means to say, " i love you" i dont think the school year is a time for living. in fact i think it is time for partial death. more like hibernation i guess. you hide the real you and shove in a deep dark hole in your mind with all sorts of awful memories. and then that inevitable hole in your personality is filled with the need to succeed, not for yourself, but instead for those around you. loading yourself up with pressures to occupy yourself from missing your better half.  then you keep your happy summer memories close enough to be accessed if absoloutly needed but far enough from letting yourself go too far into un-you-ness. i believe that summer has given me the blessing of camp. and camp, has provided me with a sort of time travel. back to somewhere around 1950 with no internet, no phones, no external contact with the exception of  snail mail. i never really understood the joy of recieving a letter addressed to you and openning it up plus reading handwritten text. not to mention how many hours of long Tom talks have enriched my life. i believe in life you have to wake up and die right. i also believe cleaning tack is one of the most theraputic thing (plus it makes your hands SUPER soft) only second to riding horses. Finally, I believe Doyle is my horse soulmate (more know). and all that isnt even scratching the surface of what i believe. just a little taste.

stay golden ponyboy,
emi glo

untitled (on purpose)

hello outer blog-o-sphere. today marks the ned of vibrant life. bright greens shrivel into gross little, wrinkly, brown grossness. trails untouched by all except magical dew turn to trodden paths because today is, the last day of summer. today is the day where i am forced to leave behind the best summer of my life. it will whither away never to be seen or touched again. done. all of the good times to be over shadowed but piles of paper and homework slowly tightening its chokehold on my neck until it crushes me completely at which point i will numbly and as emotionlessly as possible for the rest of the year until i can finally be revived by he hope of going home again. its a sad day. goodnight freedom. im so sad your silvery spirit has been shackled and bottled up for the next 11 months. goodbye sun. without your bright rays i will become pale and begin to disappear all together before you know it. but ponyboy, you stay golden. if you dont, i swear there is no point in living. promise me.

stay golden ponyboy,
emiglo

2 months and 4 days

outer blogoshpere, since there seems to be nothing out there... i am going to blog to no one. soooo.. if you havent guessed i have not blogged for 2 months and 4 days.... why this is.. i could give you a lot of reasons but no one, i am not going to waste your time. how considerate of me right? (rhetorical question) at any rate i am on number 8.. if i am not mistaken which is.. a moment... well.. a moment would be hard to pick considering the fact that there are about a kajillion just floating around up there.. some where... some how mixed between the stratosphere and the outer limits of space. i am sure they are caught up between strands of constellations and jet trails it just might take some time to locate and then detangle them from the mess. after being really quite cryptic about this.... if i had to pick one of this summer it would have to be between the summer night at the bonfire after everyone left and we had cape bonding next to the dying embers or when the love of my life ran out of the gate directly towards me. but of a life time of moments.. thats impossible. or nearly. and a lot of these moments would be figments of my imagination. enchanting and magical moments that in reality were at best mediocre. normally these involve fake totally romantic ideas.. silly really... but nice to have an escape from a bleak situation.

stay golden ponyboy,
emiglo