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Fucked Up College Kids File 549
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= F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. =
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guilt in three parts
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i lay in bed, watching my life revert. i revert back to my days as an
angst ridden youth, seeking shelter in lyrics that confused the emotionally
strong. days and nights waiting to bury myself in my own world, away
from people. i told myself not to love or be loved because it was comfortable
and so damn right. after high school i learned it even more. college
taught me to question the system, question authority, and eventually strike
out on my own in bitter resentment of the system that was supposed to
educate me.
then came a sudden wake up call to society. the logical side of me quickly
realized that despite my contempt for people, being social got you a lot
farther. sincerity was an option.
today i remind myself of certain words that have always been a core
part of me. the inherent understanding of a concept is interesting
to say the least. the rational side of me says it is just a feeling,
that there is no way a person would really know those feelings had
society not defined them during a more impressionable stage.
then i am reminded, "so it is with god".
shame \'sham\ n. 1a: a painful emotion caused by
consciousness of guilt, shortcoming, or impropriety
2a: a condition of humiliating disgrace or disrepute
even when i can't think of what it is, i still feel shame. ever present,
just like before a vacation, the thought of 'what did i forget'. so
it is to my shame. i can't begin to describe how i feel when i actually
have something to feel shame over. the inherent feeling is disconcerting
to say the least, downright depressing on any other given day.
-
a day passes, and i can't think of how to express my emotion and feeling
into text. ironic, that i write for over five years, getting compliment
on how well i can express feeling. yet this time i can not. my guilt runs
deep and i know it. if not for my actions, but the mere fact that music
is lost on my ears, food tasteless. i can't describe how much i love music,
yet it all falls on near deaf ears. then... for a rare second, and only
that, the music hits me. that original reason i liked it comes back to
me. i break out in tears for the inherent beauty in the voice that
consumes me.
truth hits me.. and it doesn't take an hour to think why. it is that
inherent beauty i associated with someone i thought loved me that
strikes me. god, how i have fucked up. not only in my actions, but
in making such gross errors in assumptions.
i find myself turning the pages to the beat of sad and depressing songs,
reminding myself of the true meaning of certain words. i never want
them to be lost to me. their meaning a warm solace to my cold heart.
perhaps.. the principle parts of the ruling passion that make me
who i am.
guilt \'gilt\ n. 1: the fact of having committed a breach of
conduct 2a: the state of one who has committed an offense
b: feelings of culpability
culpable \kel-pe-bel\ adj 1: guilty, criminal 2: meriting
condemnation or blame
i sing along... "how can it feel...". i wish she knew. her voice and
words almost come close to what i feel.
earlier tonight, i walked onto the porch to feel the rare arizona rain.
i stopped to listen to it, machine gun rythem of beats on the concrete.
i felt it's side affect splatter onto my legs, and i felt so alone.
i wish i could express how close the term 'alone' felt to me, so that
you knew it was more than a word to me. "how can it feel.." she sings.
fuck. i know.
mea culpa \ma-e-kul-pa\ 1: a formal acknowledgment of
personal fault or error
and so goes my handle. its ironic that one person just today noticed
that my login name was 'guilt'. she acted like it was new. no.. not
at all. it fell on me weeks before the reason she thinks I took it for.
guilt. hell yes, like you wouldn't believe.
remorse \ri-mo(e)rs\ 1: a gnawing distress arising from
a sense of guilt for past wrongs
repent \ri-'pent\ 1: to turn from sin and dedicate oneself
to the amendment of one's life 2a: to feel regret or
what used to be a play on words for a side joke at work, my living
being. day in and day out, for a year or more.. looking for that
positive change in life.
as i child, i would read the crooked framed pictures in my grandmother's
hallway. old pictures from the family, the coat of arms, and one poem.
weird, that i remember certain parts, the author and more, yet I can't
track down the full text of this poem.
"you are not in this world to live up to my expectations,
and I am not in this world to live up to yours..
you are you, and i am i...."
with guilt, comes a fundamental lack of feeling. i listen to music
and hear dry words against dull background sound. what normally
keeps me alive, is now whitenoise at best. i hate that feeling
more than words can describe.
contrition \ken-'trish-en\ : the state of being contrite
contrite \'kan-,trit\ 1: grieving and penitent for sin
or shortcoming
how does one repay for one's internal conflict. if your mind sees your
sins and can't resolve them, how do you repay. grieving for actions
in the past, or actions lost in the prophecy of tomorrow.
one day, i shall know resolution.
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a recurring element of my life is the music i wrap myself in.
people often wonder why, and it simply can't be answered in
a few short words. i recently found myself on a long drive,
enjoying the music. being wrapped up in it, i begin to wonder
if that is where i get my heightened sense of guilt.
brigid boden
dreamt i saw you by my side, face was framed by candlelight
held my hand against your heart, said we'd never part.
can't you see, deep in me,
music loud and strong, a change for me to set you free
my love i must go on
took my hand never let me stray
all my fears you pushed away
be with me was your last sigh
now you're gone, oh how i cry
shakespear's sister
if this world is wearing thin
and you're thinking of escape
i'll go anywhere with you
i'll do anything it takes
but if you try to go alone
don't think i'll understand
do i have to go down on my knees?
this is my 16th apology to you
with friends like me who needs enemies
portishead
please couldn't you stay a while to share my grief,
it's such a lovely day to have to always feel this way,
and the time that i will suffer less,
it's when i never have to wait
after time the bitter taste,
of innocence disintegrates,
scattered seed, buried lives,
histories of our disguise reborn,
circumstance will decide
oh, can't anybody see,
we've got a war to fight,
never find out way,
regardless of what they say,
how can it feel this wrong
nine inch nails
i am the hate you try to hide
and i control you
i take you where you want to go
i give you all you need to know
i drag you down i use you up
my whole existence is flawed
everyone i know
goes away in the end
you could have it all
my empire of dirt
i will let you down
i will make you hurt
tori amos
Every finger in the room is pointing at me
I wanna spit in their faces
Then I get afraid what that could bring
I got a bowling ball in my stomach
I got a desert in my mouth
Figures that my COURAGE would choose to sell out now.
I've been looking for a savior in these dirty streets
Looking for a savior beneath these dirty sheets
I've been raising up my hands
Drive another nail in
Why do we crucify ourselves
Every day I crucify myself
Nothing I do is good enough for you
Crucify myself
Every day I crucify myself
And my HEART is sick of being in chains
I gotta have my suffering
So that I can have my cross
ani difranco
you put a tiny pin prick
in my big red balloon
and as i slowly start to exhale
that's when you leave the room
everything i do is judged
and they mostly get it wrong
but oh well
'cuz the bathroom mirror had not budged
artificial joy club
set me up then stomp me, you're sick & beautiful
squeeze me like your lemon, then mix with alcohol
shake me hard then down me, you're sick & beautiful
switchblade symphony
can you see me going down
i am screaming out loud
and the fear of god is in me now
dissolve
Weeks later I wonder why I listen to these words. Perhaps it
is because of how beautiful the music that flows with these words
is. Or maybe they play off each other to make it so appealing.
Doesn't matter.
As long as it feeds the emotions driving me onward in life.
mea_culpa
05/28/98
ps: if you read this and are saying to yourself, "i know why he
wrote this", think again. you don't know me. at all. read the date
most of this was written on.
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