Invincible

Nothing can hurt me.

I am sick sick sick sick sick.
Terribly sick.
All the time.

But it doesn't faze me.

Doctor visit one.
two.
three.
four.
five.
six.
seven.

I don't think about it.
Internal sickness.
Easier to forget.

I do need to eat better, sleep better, live better.
Vitamins.

I don't think about it because it scares me.

If I live like it doesn't exist it won't hurt me.

But I am not invincible.




I just want to go home and have my mom hold me.

Wicca.

I always knew it.
felt it.
loved it
lived it.
breathed it.

It's sometimes nice to have a path of guidance.

I know I'm not alone in my thinking.

However, I don't do well with structure.
Religion is structure.
No matter what you call it.
I know Christianity and Wicca are completely different but,
they are both religions.

I really like Scott Cunningham.
He calls Wicca a religion but also stresses how open they are.
You make Wicca.

I'm not going to call myself a witch.
But, my beliefs about the world coincide very greatly with Wicca and I will practice certain aspects of it.

I've been wanting to get more spiritual.
My friend started reading the book.
I found the book at a mystic store that I love.
To me, I stumbled upon Wicca.
And it's good.

It will help me stay devoted.
I am most interested in energy and visualization.

And communicating with animals.
All sorts have been in my dreams lately.

My phoenix is close to flames now.

Sun Dust.

Words.
words.
WORDS.

rant.rant.rant.rant.rant.rant.rant.rant.rant.rant.rant.rant.rant.rant.rant.

please.....SHUT UP?

I like the silence sometimes.
I like just sitting there not saying anything.
I like talking about NEW things.
Leave some things in the past.
That's where they belong.
And I don't dwell there.

anymore.

"hello officer."

Oops I did it again....

mhm i did it again and again and again.

But I am fine now.
I have always known this but...
people come to you when you most need them, but you can't search for them.
it's like happiness.

and...
people are more drawn to you when you ARE happy.
It's a cycle.
I experienced it this week.

Observe:
an action so charismatic
you cannot help but feel that everything is astronomic.

I See.

Morbidity is Righteous.

Great Bald Eagle.
Bigger than my life.
Tried to fly.
But you belong to America.

In my dream I saw a phoenix.
I was connected to it.
It was withering away and dying.
It was ugly.
It was me.

But that only means that my rebirth is coming.
And the time will not be long.
My phoenix is preparing to die.
To kill it's old ways once and for all.

Hopefully my next dream,
My phoenix will have already burst into flames.

Fire is cleansing.
Fire gives the sage life.

Eyes

It hasn't rained much this year.
The angels must have less to cry about.
But the oceans have become deeper from the tears of humans.
Has God forsaken us?
One must wonder in this world we live in.

So my friend is doing this documentary on her families stories from El Salvador and it really makes me want to learn more about my family history.

My grandparents immigrated here from Poland to Chicago.
When I read The Jungle by Upton Sinclair I couldn't help but wonder if that's what it was really like.
I know they shortened our last name from Pawlachek to just Pawl because it wouldn't be that obvious that they were immigrants.
Americanization.
I know both my grandpas served in the military.
Along with my uncle, and he had some wicked paranormal experiences in his life.
I know my great granny was a Rosie the Riveter during the Great Depression.
I know we are related to the Presley's (you know, Elvis) through marriage.

I need to ask questions.
They won't be here forever.

My mom's side of the family has their history laid out in The Book of Jones.
And my great uncle is really into tracing our family history.
But I just don't ask.

When I asked my mom about our Native American blood, she told me things that I never knew.
So I know for sure I am 1/16.
My great great grandmother was full Creek Indian and married a white man.
So my grandpa's father was half.
This can get so confusing sometimes.
My great granny used to take my mom and her brother to reservations so my mom was exposed and she said when she was little she was always interested in learning about Native Americans.
And she told me we hadn't traced it yet, but that they were always told that we had Cherokee blood.

When I was little my mom would expose me and my sister to Native American culture and I loved it but I never fully knew the meaning.
It was just exciting.
And I loved hearing the stories by the elders at the campfire.
That was always my favorite part.
Native Americans have some damn good storytellers.
Oral tradition.
Something that has been lost in this generation.

I've always felt a connection to this part of me.
I have great reverence for it.
It's a part of me that needs to be explored more.
I used to be hesitant in telling people because I look fucking Aryan.
My Polish genes shine through physically.
And sometimes when I tell people, I can see the judgement in their eyes.
But I'm proud of it.
Culture is not skin color.
Native Americans are a strong people.

I regret not exploring it more but now is never too late.

I think my spirit animal is a bluebird.

Oh! And my mom's side of the family owned slaves!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
FUCK!
Southerners.
I asked her if we had African American blood but she said no.
However, rape was a common weapon.
So I might have some black family members out there.

Essentially I believe we are all family, but it would still be cool.
Not going to lie.

I see many learning experiences before me now.

? QuesTion.

If you stop questioning...
the answers will come.

like my bluebird of happiness will come.

Epiphany:
Weed can do wonders.
But according to Jerry Rubin it must remain illegal....for it to be a revolution.
I think people refuse to try it or try it again...because they are afraid.
I was afraid.
Weed IS a truth serum.
Some people can't and never will face their truth.

I am ready.

Weed has shown me many things about myself.
It has taught me things.

However, I will always stand by my original opinion about drugs...
YOU DON"T NEED THEM TO DISCOVER YOURSELF.
They are shortcuts.
You can always have epiphanies and find the pieces of you without doing a substance.
It just takes more work and time.

Last night.
I found my inner strength.
I'm not that afraid to walk down a street by myself anymore.
I'm not afraid to talk to someone I have never seen before.
Beautiful souls.
They glowed.

We are all humans living in this fucked up world together.
But humans have made this world fucked up.

And that's a disgusting realization.
It's easier to fall and lay there than to stand back up.

So far,
I'm sitting on the ground.
My strength is coming.

Biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!

horoscopes.
text messages.
music.
smile.
tear.
smile.
tears.
a forced kiss.
invisible conversations in the shower.

we spun around and around.
creating our own world.
drunkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk.
no recollection of the song playing.
She smelled so good.

I refuse to give myself identities sometimes.
i am what i am.

I will play the LOVE card.
Love is not an identity.
Love has no laws.

I will love who I want.

Don't ask me my sexual orientation.
I don't know and I don't care.
I just live in the moment.
Who I am with.

My horoscopes have come true so far.
Coincidence?Self-fulfilling prophecy?

I see the power of positive energy.
Please don't go away....

I like this feeling right now.

"Don't question it. You are so bi!"
Girl! you are a lesbian. Of course you want me to be bi!
ha ha ha

I'll give you a kiss though.

tExxxxT

"I love you hailey. I love you so much im going to see to it you're emotionally independent so the best of hailey will shine everyday independently in any circumstances. I promise. But you must be mindful until then".

Thank you.

My mmmmm mmmind is a fast track.
Overthinking. Overanalyzing.
Is it me?
Is it me?
"What the fuck is wrong with me?!"
I yelled to the only star I could see.
I was beginning to be fine.
But then he came along.
He screwed up.
No sorry....
I screwed it up.
Old habits die hard.
Fuck this.
I need to be happy alone.
alone.
alone.
solace.
I used to be independently emotional.
What the fuck happened to me?
I think it is a mixture of things that I need to finally come face to face with.

I want it to be next year already.
But when I think about it.
I want it to be next year because I feel like I can start new.
But it needs to start NOW! NOWNOWNOWNOWNOWNOW!

My grandpa's mind is withering away.
Last night he peed in the hallway.
He thought it was the bathroom.
He is scared.
I would be too.
I am scared.
I am scared for my mom.
I am scared for my grandpa.
I am scared for my family.

It will all be OK in the end.

Yeah...I keep telling myself that.

Poetry That Belongs to the Past Part Deux

I have so much!!!!


Why is it that medicine causes more sickness than what you've already got.
"Side effects include..." it drones on and on.
Just inject me with the sleeping sickness already so I can close my eyes and forget my fears.
One day I pulled off my epidermis layer by layer...
getting rid of all my flaws.
By the time I was done, only my heart was left.
At least one thing remained untouched.
But my transparent lips spoke too soon
for my heart soon came to know the world and it too crumbled away
like ash into the iridescent breeze.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------
I flew over the countries ti's of thee
but there was only "ONE nation under God".
He was 16 and sent to Vietnam to fight the war on terrorism.
He barely touched the communistic dirt before he was shot in the back of the head.
A vision flew forward out of his eyes as he fell into a swamp.
He saw a little girl in a blue dress filling a yellow hole with crimson blood.
Hitler came up and took her by the hand.
He was wearing the star of David.
(Maybe we are what we fear.)
He did not know what this meant as water filled up his lungs.
All he knew was that he was dead.
Suddenly he was standing by his floating body, the army green and red.
And he cried as he realized...
That only some humans really see history.

------------------------------------------------------------------------
I'm in a state of despaired disdain.
It's like when your cells are parched
but you've already drunk all of the half full glass of water.
The glass is dry but you're still thirsty.
So you start chewing the glass.
It's a liquid too.
But the boy next to you still has a full glass...and he's not even touching it.
So you stop and stare at him, blood dripping, eyes wet.
You throw chicken bones at him and start humming a lullaby.
Voodoo never worked for you,
but neither did anything else.

Poetry that Belongs to the Past

Tell me now, oh yes now, how it feels to suck the life,
inhale the same molecules as kings.
Letting it quiver on your tongue bringing sharp pains (of memory) onto your teeth.
Slithering down your throat.
cool as rain water
[(Do you thirst? Do you thirst?)]
As it [of] fills up your lungs
decayed or [what] not.
You feel [could've] like your ribs will burst out.
Can you now feel [been] your blood
greedily [?] thrive?
Hear it.
Tell me, are your fingertips tingling?
Adrenaline.
But why? Why? Why?
You take the step before you exhale.
What force pushed you, please tell.
Do you keep the breath, the life, inside of you?
NO, it is sharply subdued and moves on for me to live.
But please now, please, tell me...
How was your last breath as you plummeted to Death?

(I love ee cummings, if that helps you read the [])

-----------------------------------------------------------------
The archaic monstrosity of atrocity
leaving the sky bleeding luminosity.
I am sick, terribly sick.
The Burning Giraffe only knows how to lick
the life, the magic.
How do you think the oceans were formed?
The tears from Hell have swarmed.
Flies, like flies, The Lord of the Flies
is what fills us with lies.
Stop, STOP, stop before tomorrow, today.
Don't let the clock strike 13 and be erased away.
Please live in color in a black and white aggression.
You don't live twice to learn a lesson.
Maliciousness will find amnesty.
All you are is a damn casualty.
Find the cognitive cure and you too will be
Lifted up into streams of rainbow consciousness with me.
Covet life with an utmost sincerity, as it is,
the flesh ripped from your dyed black dust of bones till you are safe from all calamity.

I once knew upon once a time a man, a boy, a girl, a womyn, a baby, a child, a grandfather, a grandmother, a "pornographic priestess" and...you.

----------------------------------------------------------------------
"Poetry is at its best when writ with passion and most importantly PAIN. Only pain can bring to the surface good poetry and art."
She told me this as she shot my father in the back of the head.
BANG!
She smiled as his body fell forward and then rushed to her desk like a mouse, smearing the papers with blood,
She wrote one of the most god-fearing renowned, down-in-history poems for the 21st century.
We made millions.
I was then a "rich kid".
She remarried...had my brother...then divorced.
Writer's block plagued her.
She had depression, but not pain.
"When you have no words to put with your poetry. You need to create your own passion."
She flustered as she held my brother's head under the bathtub water.
She stood in meditation staring at his floating body before wandering to her desk.
Her clothes soaked.
I swallowed my tears.
She won an acclaimed award for her painting.
Years passed with money and more awards and more mysterious "accidents".
One day I told her I wanted to write a poem.
She gave me a kiss on the forehead and asked me what my passion was?
I told her the only passion I knew for I had learned from the best.
I shoved her down the stairs and got my award.

Love.

How can something cause so much happiness, yet so much pain?

I don't even think true love exists in human relationships sometimes.
Only in God.

I believe that God is just energy.
I believe that God(or whatever one may call it) is pure, honest love.

Pure love.

I think hell is living without love.
Even if one does not believe in God, they still have love everywhere around them regardless.

Mm, who really knows anything anyways?

Story Book

So my sister called me.
She told me her story of how she got really high and passed out 3 times.
I laughed.
"Be careful."

Then she told me something about him.
Jenn saw him at a high school dance.
With the girl that always gave me bad vibes.
I now have justification.

Why are you still stuck in high school?
You are so creative.
You are meant to live a larger life...

I can read peoples vibes very well.
I think it's because I am so observant.
Faces cannot lie.
Eyes cannot lie.
The tone of your voice cannot lie.
Your energy cannot lie.

I thought I just didn't like her because she was a girl flirting with my boyfriend at the time.
But I am not a jealous person.
It was my insecurities that have built up inside of me that split our connection.

I have no right to be upset or mad.
No right at all.
Especially looking at my actions and thoughts.
But why her?

Fuck!

I WANT IT ALL TO JUST STOP!

I want the wind to take away my soul.
I want to scream and let my love escape.
I want to...
i want to...

Just start new.

But Life never works out like that.

Whatever happened to "Life is easy with eyes closed. Misunderstanding all you see."

I want to go back to Strawberry Fields Forever sometimes.

But my eyes have been torn OPEN.
I am ever changing.
Everyday.

I can never go back in time with what I know now.
With what I have done now.

Never.

Bubble Worlds

So as I was driving to work today I saw 3 people standing in this field on the side of the highway.
They looked like travelers.
Young.
They had 3 puppies who were playing with each other.

It was beautiful.
I was transfixed.
I couldn't stop watching them.

And strangely, I was jealous.
Briefly.

Sometimes I wish I could trade lives with people for a little while.
See how it is.

Human beings live in bubble worlds.
I think everyone from time to time forgets that we are a part of a bigger painting.
Sometimes our bubbles expand and brush against other people's bubble worlds.
We get stuck inside our own manifested bubble.

But never forget, bubbles can pop.

Elefante.

It's always there in the room.
Staring at me.
Reminding me.

I threw a rainbow quilt over him so he would stop peering into my soul.
His eyes bore through nevertheless.

I took a machete to chop off his head.
Kill his memory once and for all.
"Get Out of My Head!"
But the blade slipped right through him.
Like a whisper...

I cut myself and my blood splashed across the wall.
"Now look at what you've done. Ha ha ha!"

It will heal. Time always heals wounds.

"Yes. But the scar remains forever."

Just like my elephant will remain forever.
I might just as well get used to it.

February Fourth Two Thousand and Nine

I wrote this after watching a short documentary called Rape is... This is one of my personal steps to recovering my voice that I didn't even know I had lost. I am a writer, more than a speaker.

Hands shaking.
Was it/Is it the cup of coffee or was it/is it the movie?
Rape is...
Rape is...
Rape is...
ME.
Right?
It was rape?
I did not feel right when I woke up.
When he touched me the morning after it felt like shocks of electricity right to my soul.
Whatever part of my soul was left.

Sometimes I think I'm just being dramatic.
Dramatizing the memories in my head.
I silently consented at first {?} (But if felt wrong.)
But then it hurt.
I said ow!STOP!
Then...
I don't remember.
I was drunk.
It was not my fault.

But...Why do I feel like it is?!?!?
Why can't I talk to anyone?!?!?
Why am I afraid to talk to anyone?!?!?

I've been swallowing my tears for so long.
Oh that movie!
That movie.

Fuck!

I do not believe that I have low self esteem.
I don't want future relationships to be screwed up.
Yet
I have not talked about it at all.
I have bottled it up and thrown it in the ocean of my mind hoping that it will never be found.
Yet
taking a step back
discussing it in my mind

I DO HAVE LOW SELF ESTEEM.
I throw my body around. trash.
I don't care.
This ruins any relationship I have ever had interest in.

AND I CAN'T STOP!

But I want to stop.
But I don't know how.
I
don't
know
how.

Maybe...? NO!
I need help. i need help. i need help.
I need help.

I should let someone read this.

Translucent.

Verified.
Into the depth of my mind's eye.
You can never really know anything about Life until you know yourself inside and out.

And that just might take up your whole life.

Fucking Crazy

Vibes dance around sporadically all over the room.
Hit in the heart.
Hit in the stomach (where butterflies have taken up residency).
Hit in the third eye.
Hit hard in the soul.

My eyes have seen more than my mouth has uttered words.
My heart has loved more, even more than all the lips I've kissed.
My soul has fluctuated in growth.

All of these people.people.people.people.
Everywhere.
We all affect each other more than we recognize.
I can remember people like the girl I would always ride my bike by.
She would always be singing as the sun was setting.
She had a beautiful voice.
I complimented it once as I passed her by.
I wonder why I remember her so well?

I need some fire.
I need some love.
I need some happiness internally.
I need some revolution.

That is my quest.

Beautiful (?)

You've got to get up every morning with a smile on your face and show the world all the love in your heart. Then people gonna treat you better. Your gonna find, yes you will, that you're beautiful as you feel.

Take off your clothes.
Stand in front of the mirror.

When you realize that it has all been lies. Terrible lies
that have scarred your eyes into believing a fairytale.
Until the minute you open your mouth and the words you speak...
Is that your voice? You can't tell.
Society calls you a fucking freak.
But you are the one that is weak.
Your cynical smile
and your words that are so sly.
These tears that I cry
are for humanity.
It has become a soul-destroying monstrosity.
My skin represents the "pure snow"
and I might not know
cannot relate
to the racist hate
on a personal level like you.

But I want you to know that I see it.
I see what it does.
I can recall what it has done.

And that I will give my dying breath to see it overrun.

I feel your vibes.

I can read you so easily.

Maybe it's because we are so similar?

Or it's because we are so damn different.

Just dance.

You know...
I believe that happiness shouldn't come at the expense of others.
And I believe that you must first be happy and content with yourself and being alone before you can share happiness with someone else or have someone else make you happy.

However, many people, including myself, do not follow this.
It's common sense too.
But then again, American society is not one to recognize common sense.

"If it was a snake, it would have bitten you on the nose!"

I've always known this. But now I want to put it into practice.
I am not content right now.
Fuck!

This weekend was drama.
But communication is always key and now things are peachy in the friendship department (well at least on my side).

But the drama of this weekend was only superficial.
The underlying cause of my discontentment is that I don't feel like I'm living fully right now.
I started to feel like this on Monday.

Last week was not a good week.
I think this week will (hopefully-cross my fingers hope to die-) be much better.

Life is just to routine now.

I got my palm read by one of Champion's family friends at the time.
She was legit, not one of the fakes.
I had just met her and she knew things about me and my character that only people who knew me for awhile knew about!

Anyways, one thing she told me is that I will be doing a lot of traveling when I asked about my future.
And more and more, I believe it.
I love going to new places and I am now realizing that I can only stay in places for a short amount of time.

So expect to have a collection of postcards from around the world from me in the nearing future.