The Notes of My Reflection.

It can only hurt till the nerves are severed. I learned this through life experiences and bike accidents. So the year is to finish in a few weeks and it is time to reveal what stands behind this blog turned to book. It's time to reveal who "she" is in each story. A time of reflection has gone on in my life and I have felt the healing in the past few months of a death that has made a tremendous mark on me and that has changed the person I was two tears ago to the person I am now. This excerpt will be the last of Dead Battery. There will be a new blog to start with a completely different feel.

So this blog started out just as a story. But it turned out to be the healing within me. I have turned this blog into a book with the photos attached. My eyes have been open and some parts of me that turned black and died when my mother passed have been reawaken. This is highly personal to share but if you have read this blog then you deserve some answers. I am the person who stands behind the "she" in Dead Battery. There are a few excerpts that revolve around some very close friends whose names I will not reveal but most of the blog is about me and the pain that I have felt and the pain that others have given me through out time.

I may sound like a very sad person but in reality I am not. To write these stories I had to reach into a very dark place inside me. We all have that spot but we use it differently. I have used it to compose stories to help you visual and see the stories as they unveil. I have been writing this blog for over a year now starting with a photo I took the week my mother passed. That was the day the sun went out and when friends scattered because they didn't know how to deal with me during this time. That is fine because it has helped me help myself. I have come so far and I have had battles through out my life. But that was one of the biggest to overcome. I am not fully over it and I will never be but at least now I feel like I can breathe and conquer some anxieties that have developed over the years.

I am looking forward and not to the past for answers at this point. I am going to be in this city for another year or so and I am tired of hating it here. I have made this place into a torture chamber for myself with the help of some others but that is to change. There was a point when I was all over the place and out all the time but when the "sun" went out it made me take a cold hard look at people here and my friends and you don't see me all over the place anymore because there are certain things I wish not to be involved in. I am not passing judgements on others. To each his own. I just rather be involved with and around more positive things and people. I have learned that others will keep you down to make themselves and their lives feel more fulfilled and thats fine for them but not me. I tend to ramble when I write so deal with it.

What I am trying to do with myself is create a healthy pattern of events and things and if you are awesome then you will be a part of my life and if not see ya later I don't have the time for that shit. I think I was getting a clue from someone above. Maybe my mom or dad but the picture is now clear and this is def not a place for me. I am not saying everyone is the worst there but still not my element or class of people I really chose to be around. I can't rationalize being around there anymore. When people tend to stomp on you they stomp so hard that you either give in and become as them or you still remain and leave with your held high because you haven't succomb to their tortures. I win in the end run because I am coming out stronger and I will be working with kids and that makes me very happy and nervous at the same time. I will still be working in the bar on the weekends but it will not be permeant.

I am starting a new life in the next year and it will be filled with the printing of my book, a new job as a nanny, trips out of this city, getting together grants for school, and starting a new adventure in the fall. I will be finishing up school. Then who knows from there. I am looking forward to 2011. I am leaving the crap in 2010 and having bright eyes for what is to come next in my life. I know I am not going to be happy all the time and that comes with life and its awesome to know that I can finally deal with that. No one can fully understand with the exception of a few the struggles I have been through and that writing this and ending this blog on a happy note is a huge acheivement for me. And to you all, you know who you are; I like to say thank you for the support and positivity. I know I did a lot of this myself but you have had a good hand on me moving forward in my life.

I am no longer a dead battery and I finally see how strong I actually am. I am turning into one of the strongest people I know and I love it. I am signing off from here. Thank you for reading. Now stop being sooo fucking nosy and go do something. Stop sitting around waiting for life to happen and just make it yours.

One last thing.... SUCK IT!!!!

xoxo,

Liz

Homecoming.

She used to be bigger then this. So many things questioning her wills. Trying to figure out where this road is leading. Running and running the path was dark but the sun has risen. Every time the sun rises there is a force trying to shoot out the sun. She runs and stops on site. She has reached a fork in the road. She doesn't know what's worth fighting for.

Cheaters, liars. Memories consume.

Taking a breath. Figuring how much of her will be tested if she decides to go east or west bound. No more options left. The battles chose her. Her courage has risen but they are there to beat her down with the hatchet held by the strength of Zeus. She see her reflection in the silver shinny blade. Somethings become clear at that moment. She must rise with the strength and courage to start the blaze that is to arise. The next to see their shadow is the one that is to really test her.

Instigation.

Playing with the strings she has let them all hold. Breaking the habit. She sits in concentration trying to catch her breath again. Its inside her but can she find it at this point. She's the one at fault.

Bridging the gap. Should she let another fight her battle? Open wounds that clotted only to be reopen again. She lets them get the best of her and let's it go in silence. But her silence is dead. Screaming the character of a thousand men. She may not be invincible and she sees and has seen this about herself. She succumbed to the pain for years but now she is to drop the gavel on them. Its her time to judge. Her options are becoming seamless at this point. So the instigation is to begin and it begins with him, her, and them. She is not the one at fault.

Screaming on the edge of extinction.

But her revenge will taste as sweet as a summer peach. She reminisces about childhood and the battles she has won. She will not assume the position. Why should this time be any different?

A Moment of...

You are you're own spoken word as she is hers. You leave her as quick as the marks you laid upon her fade away. How time sorts things. Suffice to say go to hell but she can't. You have awoken something in her and she tries to turn her eyes away. A beast by nature and an escapist by nurture. She always knew it was going to be like this.

Heart worn on her sleeve and the more she exposes the more she is tormented. They always get what they want but she never receives what she is deserved. She imagines all the things in life that never were and what could be.

Living in and out of cycles of a fairy tale. When what she wants is there she cowers away to the next. She remains her worst enemy. They never know the real her only the outer shell of what they perceive is her.

Manifest Destiny.

She would never rewind time. Never ashamed of what she has done. She lives her life on the outer banks and takes a quick step in and out of the circle.

Stand Alone and Fight the Demon.

Reflections are as close as the mirror in front of her. Where is your reflection?

Not Ready...

An emotional vampire and she is the vixen to pray on him. But yet he runs. In the end she is left with herself.

Rewind the time; the symphony plays..

Onto the next, then next...

When will this sonnet end?

The Enemy at the Gates.

Running reds so deep the curtains have hit the floor. it breaks a piece of her every time. she knew not to get too close at first glance of those eyes that shocked her insides. now she is left with the bank bag and the sirens are nearing. She can taste the blood from her stained hands. She pulled her heart before you could get to it. Swimming in a sea of what was and you still managed to make a mark in her life. the ropes around your hands.

She is fighting the tears and can't find the way. Where she remains is not where she belongs. Almost made a notch in some spot and it was comfortable for a second. But the ashes blew away and he blew out the door with them. Her guts speak the truth. The last kiss was a good bye disguised by your willing eyes. she waits for him to prove her wrong. she warranted this herself. She kept her stare into his eyes. and he played his game right and got what he needed. She didn't know how to walk in the right direction and took the leap again only to hit the hard surface heart first. She believes in something invisible. Its like candy land in her heart but she always loses. These sheets tell regret.

The pain inspires her. She breaks her heart every time to create an amazing story but how much can she take before she breaks? She needs an umbrella for her tears. The river runs wild from her eyes. She can't take out the dagger. But it pushes deeper every time the river runs. She may be too real for people here. Or maybe the people here are not real with themselves. She takes the pain of a thousand spades only to look and see the card of the fool. Nice hand but she just crapped out. Stoned into the neon lights as they blink on and off. Missing letter. Missing colors. Never complete enough but clear enough to find the rest room at the truck stop.

She can't feel at all. She has faith in no one. She's turning the light off in her heart. Saying hello to selfishness at this point because she is the only one to be there at the gates to meet herself.

In The In Between...

Now she is lost but the rain has cleared from her eyes and she sees you for what you are. How ridiculous to think you are important to anyone. Who cares in the first place? She did for a second but her pain won't let you tarnish her name. A man in one respect and a Lil boy in the other. Past, present, and future tense. Glimpse of nothing. The four corners are met at the fiery gates. Here is where she judges you.

This station is now just static. Turn to the next is more static. Look through the tube. The snow is still there. Dancing down funeral lane. She abused herself. Keeps running to nothing. Hitting a wall.

Caps lock.

Its raining so hard. Stuck in her head. Tables turn and you're no good. Now you are stuck there as a shadow, a ghost. Sustain the will that she has to the gamble of what is you and your love. but not your love for her but your love for yourself.

Cold stares.

She abandoned herself in her time of need to pull the other from the high tides. And what she is left with is an empty hand. A shadow, a ghost, a shell of what once was. The insides are cold and pale. The gazebo is her shelter; her shelter from the pain. The pain of her life and the grievances she did complete. The shadows dance in the day and into the night. They are all around us but it is for him to see what he actually can't see or where he chooses to hide what he does actually feel. This place is not one place but it is also not the other place.

His memories remain...

But you can't go back. Take the hand that preys on you and drop it and let gravity take its course. A spiritual awakening. The gospels have been prepared. If it is in a name you will see it on the other side. All signs point in no direction. The candle still burns and when its time for its descent she is there to reignite the light in her own perfect world.

Inner peace is met..

As this may seem like a speech it is somewhat in tune in your life, in his, hers, theirs, and ours. Maybe she will shed the cast. The mold as of what she has created here.

Solace.

Crossfire.

Dancing with the devil.

But you are not Daniel Webster.

You know who you are and someday you will be revealed but not just to the masses. But to yourself. Till then she will hide the tears and happiness of what you have given and left her with behind her eyes.

From the Front Lines..

The flame ignites just as fast as it burns out with her. Haunting images of that photo book still sit in a locked box. Why she holds on is even a mystery to herself. At this point she is too tired for hate but too awake to give in. The noose is tied tight and she is bound but not gagged. She still has a voice and sight. You play hair dresser with her. Massage her brain enough to relax as she almost slips through the cracks. Let go of the entity that does not exist. Nothing can ever be so secure. Her life has been a test of wills. Its amazing how high she holds her head up. Shattered walls and it is you that keeps her from crossing the paths with another without thinking of you. She extends the branch but you take the whole tree and suck the sap from its limbs till it withers away but with one bright leaf shining. The flame that is her existence refuses to burn out. Even if it turns just to a gas you are there to ignite the flame. Why?

Sleepers. You don't invade her cycle anymore so maybe your hold on her isn't as strong anymore. Are you listening? If you were face to face I don't think she would run but would she coward herself to silence? Runs red flows eastward down a cavern pit made for one. At least it once was. Dreams vast beyond a Freudian slip. Sneak attack and struggle is now lost. What once was can not be forgotten.

Dispute.

Dissipate..

Deliverance...

The relentless cycle repeats. You turn up out of nowhere. Like a mole in a hole. Cute from a distance by rabid at chose touch. Never in her vicinity. Does he speak the truth?

Destroyed.

Despair.

Infrared.

Her retina burns but her sight just won't relinquish itself. She looks away for now but his web will tangle her until she is caught and can't move. Does a lost shoe make a noise once it hits the ground running? I have been thinking about.....

Code Orange.

The ghost has returned. The ship has surfaced and only one body is left to identify. Somewhere in the dreams. Living for keeps. He keeps her soul. Knowing he drives her senses and somewhat her being. He resurfaces through a picture. A friendly jester. He plays his game tactfully. She waits. Anticipating. Closed mouth. Loss of breath. Desperation. Will he arrive? The day remains calm and beautiful. A mid October day. The sun touches her skin as the light dances off her tan skin. She stands. Waits. The people are circling around her in a fast forward mode but she still stands, realizing its not a movie. She's drawing flies at this point.

The chill has entered the air. It may have been a spring day but the fall night reaches into her skin and hits her bones. The night has become her enemy. She reaches a dark place and every night she drags herself out of the mind shaft she jumps into. He always goes when the wind blows.

You're a terrible combination.

She will reveal herself one day. And the mystery of what she writes. She reverts back to her childhood. The day her new dolly arrives. Such a pretty doll with long pretty blonde hair. A disturbed and lonely kid worrying about the wrongs things at such an early age. She always started with the hair. Cutting strand by strand. Like a knife through her heart you ride the crimson wave of her arteries and you knocked down her valves.

Heart Attack! Contraction!

Cornered by her own thoughts.

She folded. She wonders if you are even real and why you consume her thoughts.

Feeding off her life a tick. His head grows bigger and bigger. She is infected and it will pain her to the bone. She feels like the scab will never heal. Maybe if he let go she could turn the page but till then he will bounced from paper to her screen and through her heart. How does one fend off such a strong power surge when the lights have been turned off.

Electric shock. Break her fall.

A hazardous materials incident has occured. Magnitude unknown. Ticking Clock. Stealing time.

Good Bye.....