let's tune out by turning on the radio

Dear Christopher:

I wish I could write all my feelings about you in this letter. I really do. But love... it's so indescribible. This love is a step worse than that. It's as if our love is just that great.

For anyone who reads this, Chris is my boyfriend. Alex's friend... my boyfriend for the past five months. He's just absolutely amazing. My other piece. The other half of me.

It's just a classic case of: Once upon a time, I was so afraid to love you, but now I'm scared shitless to lose you.

That's basically how it is. And sometimes, I feel like I'm putting more into the relationship than he is, and that makes me feel like he's apathetic. And it hurts me. But I don't want to tell him that, because I'm scared that he'll take it the wrong way. It's weird. I can talk to him about so much more than that, but I have a problem like this and BAM. I'm mute or something. It's so bad. I hate it.

But other than that, everything big that could happen in my life has happened. I moved out of my mom's house, mind you I'm 16, I moved in with a friend. I'm officially a senior. And I'm graduating in May. I can't believe my life has changed so much in a little over a month. I'll update as soon as something new comes into my life... I love whoever sits there and reads this. I really do.

-Miranda Jade

(mood: tired, insomniac-like, very VERY sick x| )

I Never Asked For Your Opinion, I Just Got It

Dear Whatever:

I'm tired. I hurt.

My hand's basically bleeding... And I just want all my pain and sadness to drip down with it. I want all my hurt... all my horrible mistakes and my horrible ways to bleed out of my body so I never have to worry about them.

The world can be sunshine and fucking rainbows.

And unicorns. Those two.

Stupid fucking animals. I hate them. They're so fucking stupid. God, I'm pissed off. I want the chance to be pissed of at someone and not let it be my fault too.

Because last night... that was me. I asked him for the kiss, and he granted my fucking wish. Just like it says in his damn poem.

Fuck this. I'm pissed off. I need a fucking cigarette. And I want to kick a certain person so fucking hard right now. FUCK.

Miranda Jade

(Mood: Self-Explanatory)

No I Will Not Sleep In This Bed of Lies

Dear… Whoever. No wait. Dear Alex. And all my best friends:

I’ll first get out my thoughts about my friends. I was in psychology the other day and the teacher asked me to define normal. I thought about how, to me, there is no normal, no set definition.

But I thought: it’s different for everyone. Why am I sitting here criticizing everyone around me? All of them view normal from a different perspective.

And sometimes, I criticize my best friends, and I feel so bad about it. I realized that normal for Chelsea or Lana or Laney or anyone that I feel is close to me is a completely different thing than what I think of normal as. And I think now is the opportune time to apologize, but like I’ve said before, I don’t apologize because it shows regret. Without criticizing you all, I would never have come to this realization. So I don’t regret it, therefore, I am not sorry.

Secondly… Alex. What can I say about Alex? Let’s start here… Roman told me to stop thinking about him because it isn’t my biggest problem. That my homework was, so I can graduate and make a better life for myself. And I think… wow, he’s so right. Why am I thinking about Alex?

Wasn’t I the same person who said relationships were overrated? And I realize why casual flings are so much better than relationships… After a casual thing, you never literally hurt. You’re never in so much pain, you can’t say one sentence. You never want to cry and laugh at the same time. Cry about the fact that he’s not yours and laugh about how he WAS yours. Once upon a fucking time. For a casual thing, you never have to love the person. I wouldn’t have dated him again unless I loved him. That egocentric, blonde, pain-loving freak. I loved him once. Hell, I think I’m going to have a little love for him for all time. Because… it just seems wrong to forget your first love.

Ergo, I shall not forget you, Alex. I do love you, and hey, you want to be friends again? Nah, I don’t know if we’ll be the same. I wish we could. Truly, I do.

But if you do read this letter, will you tell me something? Why?

Why’d you cheat? Why did… why me? Why did you want me? Because I was one of the only people you knew that wanted you? Did you use me? Because I ask myself these questions everyday. Why did he pick a psychotic feminist over me?

What did I do wrong?

Or better yet… What was wrong with me in the first place?

Maybe I didn’t do anything. Maybe I was just a fucked up person in general. Maybe he took me because I wanted him and realized halfway in that I’m a fucking crazy person. Is that it?

Tell me why… a person with no heart can love? Or cry? Tell me why I’m fucking crying, will you? Because I can’t figure it out.

And while I’m sitting here, wondering if I’ll have enough credits to pass high school, crying, not believing how my life has changed in the past 3 years, you’re out there being happy with Whore… I mean, Morgan. So what if your parents know you smoke pot? Fuck it. You have who you love. Think that over.

Lay in your comfortable bed tonight with your Scooby and think… about how good your life is. How good you have it.

You’re so selfish.

Fuck I sound bipolar in this fucking letter.

Fuck this.

-Miranda Jade

(Mood: Can’t Be Explained)

everywhere i go

Dear Whoever-

I feel like I write to Dear Whoever too much. Maybe I should find someone else to write to. Oh well. Best not dwell.

I’m sitting in a nursing home, and as I look around I wonder how these people, all of them, lived their lives. They grew up in such a different era.

I hate watching them , though. Because most of them shake. Most seem so helpless, and it makes me cry. I mean, not literally cry because, gee, I don’t have a heart. But if I did, I would be weeping like crazy.

I once watched one eating peaches. It was so depressing, because her hand kept shaking. I couldn’t believe it. How could this person live so dependently? I don’t know how they do it. Maybe it’s just my strong sense of pride, or maybe I’m just so incredibly judgmental that I can sit at the dining table on the outside of the room and thinking prejudice things about people I will never know.

But then again, I’m sitting here with many people, including Jamie (someone I went to elementary school with), and I’m listening to their stories. Someone is crazy as hell and my mom is so sarcastic, I’m afraid she’s turning into me.

But whatever. This is how I’m going to be in 60 years.

Fuck.

-Miranda Jade

(Mood: Excited? Still high…)

i was thinking you could have been something

Dear Whoever,

I have realized something. I was sitting there thinking about how he denies it. And it hit me, like a slap on the face, but less violent.

This is my closure. I wrote after the first time a poem called “It’s Not Over”, and it was short, but it made the point of how my soul felt like it needed more. Or wanted…? I don’t know. I never will, but the thing is… this is my closure. This is the last page. After six months, this is my fucking end of the line. Epilogue? No, the last chapter.

After the first time happened, I didn’t know what it was that kept me holding on, but I just knew that something wasn’t right. There was a thread still hanging on. And this last time, it was like the scissors coming to free me. They did too.

I was free. I am free. Now it just seems like… everything is finally done. No more thoughts or memories or flashbacks. And maybe what I needed was to actually remember it. Maybe I needed to do it all over again to realize that I needed it in my memories. I needed clear memories. Is that crazy?

I don’t know. All I know is that it’s over. It’s closed.

I’m closing the lid on this book, because it’s over. The ending has come. No need to make any drama about it.

Thank you God.

-Miranda Jade

(Mood: Relieved)

been thinking little thoughts... attention to the details

Dear dear:

First off, I wrote this a long time ago... let's see, gee, at the beginning of the year!!

And you know what, Chelsea? I sent you an email yesterday and I don't think you ever got it. This is what it said:

'All you do is bitch at me for something I did in the PAST or bitch about someone that's always bitching about you. if you're just going to treat me like shit, some worthless object thats only there when YOU need it, then ill just stop being you're friend. its up to you, Chelsea. i dont care anymore. '

This is exactly why I quit believing in god. Why do I always get my hopes up? I put something into a friendship that's been building for years and I never get anything out of it. I don't get friendship or happiness. I get stressed and I get bitched at. wtf? Why should I have to care about that? Why should it be all up to me?

I was on the phone with Josh on his birthday... let's see the... 17th? And he asked me why I cared so much. And I just thought about it for a second and answered that I cared because he was my friend and that's what friends do. They care.

Apparently, someone should inform Chelsea of the definition of 'friend'.

-Miranda Jade

if you're listening... sing it back

Okay, this is something I found on my server that I wrote a long time ago:




I have a theory. If you don’t love yourself, you are unable and completely incapable of loving another. This is my theory on love.

I think that Chelsea has problems with this. She says she loves Josh, which I believe. I love all my friends and I love some aspects of my life. I think this is the kind of love she is in. She is in semi-love with him.

Who could completely give their hearts away to someone, just one person, if most of their heart’s in the past?

She dwells. On the past, on the present, on the future. She thinks too hard sometimes, and other times, she doesn’t think at all. But when she thinks too hard, she’s over analyzing a lot that doesn’t need to be dwelled upon.

And when she doesn’t think at all, it’s when she says she doesn’t care and just to prove it, she does something stupid.

Or maybe I’m over analyzing all of this. Maybe it’s none of business. But I can’t sit by and watch her ruin her life, her relationships, and her love.

-Miranda Jade