Leaving Me

“Don’t leave me. Don’t go. Please don’t do this to me. Don’t leave me behind. Don’t let me fall.”

I could write a thousand words without meanings of saving me, yet you’d still go. I could hurdle mountains of honesty that you throw at me, yet I’d still be right here. Leaving me without notice; without written paragraphs and lines of reasons, that’s no reason to leave me. Sitting alone in darkness for days on end won’t fix this. Allowing things to get worse won’t either. Memories of you are emblazoned into my head; dripping from it a small truth that losing you is scary. Losing you is beyond my fathomable mind. I can’t allow it to happen. I’ll let you go first. I’ll take you on a ride to the moon where we can count the stars in lines of shining rays, glistening in your eyes. I’ll put that smile upon your face and make time lose its worth. Imaginary lines of division will lose themselves in colors of purity and safety as you blink. I’ll trace over them. We can sing melodies of dreams; lullabies of God’s hope etched onto your skin like insignias. Purposeful meanings of love will brush your face as I go above and beyond what a promise really means. Representations of happiness will fly to your fingertips and change your life as you know it. Leaving me isn’t your counter to my scarce ‘I love yous’. The question of whether it’s right or not will hold no meaning to my mind as I leap into perspectives of a million ladybugs, scattering about. Even when faded dreams are illogical losing you is still far from optional. So please. Don’t go. Don’t let go of me; of who I am. Don’t let go of memories that will stick with you forever. Don’t let go of forever.

Unless you have to.

Currently listening to:
“I can live without you but without you I’ll be miserable at best.” –Mayday Parade – Miserable At Best

Whirlwind.

Lately, my mind has been in a whirlwind of emotions. Fluctuations of past feelings; not the actual feeling themselves, but more or less memories of the broken path I was on, and how I go to where I am now emotionally. It's as if I had forgotten my past somewhat. I've been living in a world without memories for a while and now, a year later, something reminds me of all of the emotional experiences I've had. Maybe it was the leaves. Maybe the season. Maybe it's just normal. Everything comes back to me. It hurts sometimes. I keep it to myself. I can feel the frame of what I used to feel. I had so much in front of me. So many different roads to tumble and fall deeply down. Now, my tied-up tongue is clumsy; holding me down for seems like a century. I wish I could have thought things a little more through. Maybe things would be different. Giving what's real to people hasn't been any harder.

One day, I'd like to write a song. In that song, I could make and verse of words my own. My own free feelings. My own free thoughts and outspoken gestures in the form of poetry. Until that day comes, I will be here, waiting for it all to come together.

Why?

"Cause I'm out-dated, overrated.."
Lessons learned.
I'm not sure where I'd be without them. I wish I could say that they have made me a better person. I wish I could make you believe that. I wish I could make myself believe it. The truth is, the puzzle doesn't fit into place that way. I'm so unbelievably terrified. Even after an entire year. I'm afraid to get hurt; afraid of people leaving me like they always seem to do. I always seem to find the people in my life that mean so much to me leave me in some way, shape, or form. I know, I'm aware, this seems to be all I ever write about here. I don't know what else to write about. I have to force the words out, they don't flow as freely as they once did. I'm not exactly sure why it's like this. I can't explain my hindrances; nobody really can to be honest.

I've got to pick myself up somehow. I taught myself to do it before. I became self-reliant. I was independent. Somehow, I lost all of that along the way. The path I'm on doesn't relate to the road not taken for me. I surely don't want to miss my past. I don't want to want to be this way. I hate not being able to write. I feel like my mind is trapped in an open field. Trapped with no fences or barriers but myself.

The only thing that fixed this was a breakdown. I complete breakdown. I need one. I need to hurt really bad. It's like reformatting a computer; there are only a limited amount of times you can run the utilities until you'll eventually have to reformat your system. I know I'm young. But I have feelings. I feel as if I've matured enough to 'love'. I've felt it before and have hurt from it plenty of times.
A breakdown is bittersweet. It's horrible at first, but gives you a reason to grow in the long run.

I don't know. Maybe I'm wrong. I wasn't last time. /:

Weightless.

I'm actually not sure why I'm writing this. So much has happened since my last entry on here, and I'm not sure what to write about now. Things seem.. Different. So much more different than they were 2 months ago. I know I should have kept writing, and been consistent with everything. Even now, I'm not exactly sure what I should write about. Things have changed so much since I last wrote; some good and some bad. Some things happened and some never even formed together.

I lost a best friend. Someone who I never wanted to lose. And now it seems like that person doesn't want to do anything but see me fail. We will refer to this person as "X". "X" doesn't want to be my friend but wants to see me fight for them. "X" wants me to fight for our friendship when they aren't. There isn't much I can say about it, as of now.

I started college. Oakland University. It's actually a great thing. I get to further my education and studies. I'm excited to learn and progress with everything. The atmosphere at OU is astounding. It's a learning atmosphere. Everyone there wants to learn, and wants to get their education. They all want to progress and become successful. Which makes complete sense, seeing as how students are paying money to learn there. Overall, my college experience is great so far.

My feelings have grown deeper. From the depths within me, I can feel my thoughts flow out into my arms and veins, into my hands; stopping right at my fingertips. The words won't form anymore. The feelings won't allow me to type. They wouldn't allow me to write what I feel, whether it be a pen or on these very keys that I bear my writing now. It's like, I can't get over the hump. I can't push myself over, and nobody can help me over either. I'm stuck.
"Turn a page, I'm a book half unread."
The phrase couldn't have been said better.

I'm not sure anymore. Not sure about various things. I guess I'm just stuck. I've heard it's normal. But so many different things are just so out of the ordinary, and life most definitely isn't the same. I guess it's what I should have expected. Change.

Until next time.
-Robbie Williford
"Before I run far away, I need to take a holiday."
(Rough draft was saved on August 17th, actually published on September 23rd.)

1000 Shades of Gray. (Unfinished)

1000 shades of gray.

In the middle arises a lone color.

Small, yes, but slowly becoming strong, confident. Proud.

The color rises and grows, grasping each and every shade.

Carefully not allowing it to fade away.

Soon, the color can show it’s true self; it’s true form of identity.

Thereafter, it can take over the 1000 shades of gray.

It can move the shades; allowing them to fall freely from the grasps of it’s roots.

The color takes flight, while the gray falls into the hole of empty dreams.

It flies across the dimly lit cup; allowing it’s being to slightly spill over the edge.

What is real is the site of the colors dripping down the edges of the cup.

I'm not sure what propelled me to even write this. I'm also not sure how to finish it. I must've been in a certain state of mind because I found it on my hard drive on my desktop computer while cleaning it. Let me know what you think of it.

Writing for myself.

"Keep my dreams alive, and I'll keep you breathing.
Let's get lost together and babe we'll keep on dreaming."

Sometimes, I write to soothe myself. To let thoughts out of my head that would otherwise eat my brain. I write to... Runaway. To run from everything. Like a drug. To get away from reality for a while. To get the secrets out and to release the weight of everything holding me down. Fantasy is better than reality, in more ways than one narrow path.

See, I write to save myself. To save my whispers to a minimum, and my screeching to a dead roll of sound waves. My spoken words fall on deaf ears and mute mouths. People are too wrapped up in their own lives to take the time to listen, and that's okay. I don't write for you, I don't write for the girl behind you, I don't write for the old guy on the corner, nor do I write for the young girl playing hopscotch. I write for me. I write to leave me wanting more. I write to make words count, to leave myself without doubts.

I write to create meanings for the rhymes said in hidden poems, and for the easy listening music that I clutch for something to bear on my ears. I write to give myself the ability to run; away from you, and away from myself sometimes.

Yes, I write, and you read. You see what my thoughts are, what I aspire to do in life, and what my past has painted. I write to make you think, and make you wonder my points. Remember, I write for me, not you.

In the end, it's you. You giving me motivation and courage to write for myself.
Because when I write for myself, you listen. You read, and think; wonder and write for yourself. I write for me giving hope to let you write for you.

Read my thoughts. Listen to my words.
Write for yourself.
Revert it back to me.

Only then, can you say you've written for yourself.

Burn Notice.

"I love you, Forever and Always."

I close the note, and silently place it on top of the flames, causing them to grow for a rapid second.

There comes a time in life, when you burn the bridges for good.
For me, it was more of a burning of an entire country, not just the bridge that connects the countries.
".. And I'm burning all the letters hoping that I might forget her and her bad taste, that she left when she was leaving me, A life of barely breathing as she walked, out of this place." -Mayday Parade


Couldn't have said it better myself.
I burned all of the letters. All of the notes. All of the pictures, and memorabilia.
All of the 'I love you's' burned to an ash.
'Forever and Always' had its own half of the pit, burning until it couldn't burn anymore.

SO much thought went into this. So much time spent sitting there in dead silence, wondering if I was going to make a mistake. Everything played in my head, over and over, like a broken record, playing on repeat. All of the memories shared were going over in my head, leaving me with a feeling of sickness in my stomach. There were so many happy times flooded by the times where I just wanted to give up.

It ate away at me, for quite some time. Time that I surely won't get back. I don't regret any of the memories. Without them, and my experiences, I wouldn't be the person I am today. Simple isn't something I aim for. Therefore, I had to let it eat away at me until I couldn't take it anymore. It got the best of me some days.

Sometimes, I'd sit and think of how I never really understood how things got to be the way they ended up. Things were always blamed on me, therefore I blamed myself. But after a while, I took a step back, and analyzed what was really going on. Needless to say, I don't blame myself for anything anymore.

I can now feel myself rise again.
No, it wasn't easy, but nobody said it would be.
As we grow older, everything will generally get harder. I like it that way. Struggling has taught me how to grow onto another level of strength.
I'm not as strong as I could be, but it's a learning process.


With all of that being said, I can smile.
Big smiles.
I'm not going to wonder if I made the mistake of burning my memories away. To me, I made the best choice I could make.
One that will stick.

One that will last.

&&One that I know I can say will last 'forever and always'.
Because when I say it, I mean it.