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carvingbackbone — where god keeps fine china
Published: 2010-03-29 17:11:26 +0000 UTC; Views: 2011; Favourites: 23; Downloads: 34
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Description
I knew Janie since I knew my own name. Amicably sweet; reserved in a delicate shyness. She always saved my seat in church, sang in the choir, played the piano. She was gentle, unassuming - the one we all looked up to.Recently, she'd grown even quieter, visibly and physically absent. Just like every Sunday prior, I showed up at her doorstep and let myself in. After calling her name, I found myself standing in an empty room, devoid of sunshine – in a cluttered, disheveled mess. Where on earth was Janie? Beneath a tilted lampshade sat a stack of loose papers. Scribbled haphazardly in black sharpie, the top sheet read:
"sorry i'm not here. can't make it today. i will – "
The message ran off the page. I flipped it over in search of the rest. On the lines and in the spaces of the following pages I discovered etchings, scrawled discord, curious inscriptions, all in Janie's handwriting. Formless, fragmented, and non-sensical, the annotations at varying angles were nothing more more coherent than a collection of erratic, frantic phrases.
...these words...were not part of my note.
But, Janie had something to say. From the looks of her room – uncharacteristic disarray – her disappearance, and the scratchings in my hands? Janie needed more than just a listener:
…and when the meds are all faded,
how do i slip into a coma the hours i'm not sleeping?
they tell her "don't do it;
it's bad for your heart."
but its skipping beats and illogical pulse are the only reminder
i have one at all.
i'm given magic hands
of a sugar plum dancer.
orchestrate a dream sequence
of whimsical fantasy;
don't take my magic hands.
don't take my magic hands.
don't take my magic hands.
i see it in class, in church, my car,
..in my reflection.
an itch, a restless hunger, a need.
a desperate desire.
cure my salivation,
my dripping tongue.
see what i see in that gleaming drop:
sit me down.
constrict my bicep.
tighter. throbthrob throb.
[getting there janie,
almost there.]
the needle refracts twinkling stars on the ceiling
..in my eyes..
off its sleek, metallic shine.
three flicks. taptap tap.
a chill against my pores.
quick sting awakening the adrenaline:
endorphins to delight my mind.
masochistic high already.
[almost there janie,
just wait.. waitforit.....]
warmth; a tickle as it trickles beneath my skin.
compression released, freedom run.
and a rush
rushh,
rushhhhhhhhhhhhh
you're flying, little j.
weightless.
it's shimmers, glitters, skies, and heaven.
heaven, janie, heaven.
oh, heavens, janie, what are you saying?
God.
Yes, God.
He knows you've fantasized this escape a million times,
but janie, you can't.
you're addicted and you haven't even hit it.
i am addicted.
this vision's been my secret;
my hunger,
my vice,
my blanket,
my cushion,
my beautiful, untouchable dream.
now she's a catatonic girl
who shakes.
dead and unresponsive;
twitching to the rhythm of withdrawal.
feed her, she's dizzy.
not food.
a pentazocine feast.
her caloric euphoric dinner.
she capers on puffs of air
moonwalk steps you take while sleeping;
but she's very much awake.
strolling over a feather pillow,
swimming, diving through,
and she smiles.
she smiles like a child.
dry janie.
no escape now.
you're done, okay?
there's no more.
..who are you anyway?!
the walk with Alice?
was just that:
a trip.
say goodbye to the queen.
the world will never know of your phantasmal flights in this mystic bubble.
[but you'd better keep Alice in chains,
we all know what happened to Layne anyway.]
she says,
i can't settle for standing on stones and pebbles
when i have tiptoed through time on a cloudbank.
your habit's just a placebo that keeps you pathetically close to the floor.
this chemical flu infects my heart,
squeezes my stomach,
rattles my legs,
makes me grasp, shake and tremble.
but it cures the disease that is janie.
my medicinal, psychedelic flu.
it's my black pearl on the ocean floor,
a blue star past the atmosphere.
you can chase all your dragons,
through billowy smoke and mist.
but i'm shooting horses
to earn my backstage pass to oblivion.
does no one else find it ironic the saviour of the story is the
..heroine?
she's one for salvation, alright.
she's an en escape artist, a victor; vanquisher of evil.
she's the rescue,
the last rip at your arms, pulling you from a torrid sea.
the apotheosis of our day without superheroes.
she's the epitome of all we cannot have nor ever be by ourselves alone.
she's a coat of armor but spun with the grace of Naomi.
..they made no mistake throwing an 'e' to the end of my paragon.
twitch and tic.
vascular spasm.
a choke in the chest.
ribcage denied access to rise.
bite down; HARDER!!
grind your teeth into your knees; come on, it'll pass..
clench until there's blood if you must!!
fight the fear, janie.
fight for air, fight it dammit!
just remember:
it's worth it, janie. it's worth it, janie. it's worth it, janie.
these mythological beasts
are my domesticated companions.
we reign in the kingdom of utopia.
since when was standing on the ceiling much, much too close to the ground?
filthy girl,
drinking dirt more delicious
than heaven's spring water.
i'd grind its gravel beneath my skin
before i'd trade in this pair of wings.
drain a dream from a /cotton/ ball
to deliver yourself to all words meant to succeed it:
dizened with /cotton/ wool,
discursive circles through /cotton/ clouds,
drinking sweet /cotton/ candy.
..all dispensed from the /cotton/ you were spoonfed.
smack me harder dammit
i'm coming down
crashing
free-falling
an avalanche asunder
plunged under water
a lead-weight sinking anchor
asphyxiated paralytic
..drowning..
do you believe in magic tricks?
i need a miracle.
an eight ball.
what's it say?
janie's revived.
resuscitated.
i'd held that lethal, lethal toy like a time bomb.
it exploded and gave me life.
she looked into the mirror:
merely a pinhole of black
hidden amongst an eternal, cosmic iris;
and she said, "i always wanted more colour in my life."
'these violent delights have violent ends –'
fuck juliet.
'..and in their triumph, die –'
i am a capulet death.
'– like fire and powder.'
i've got the powder.
it's burned in a blaze,
a wildfire,
engulfed me from the first spark.
i am just a mirage within its smoke.
so, fuck romeo too.
between the crash and the ascension
my stomach shrieks in the joy ride,
the gravitational absence
has me vomiting all that wasn't eaten.
a violent revolt.
systematic fury is waging war.
there goes my heart.
she races.
she jumps.
she stops............
sprints again.
hiccups.
hic– hic–
cu–up.
hic..?
...........cup.
oh no; speed janie speeeeed.
speed her up again!!
. . .
–hiccup–
[pitterpatterpitterpatterpitterpatter]
my fingers dance delicately over the rig,
stroking the keys of my piano
for its sweet music;
mesmerized by my treasure,
i'll play it.
i play.
..play my melody.
just janie on her piano bench.
in three:four time,
waltzing in the waves conducted from this baton.
ihatehim|ihatehim|ihatehim
this is his little monster.
he just let the beast devour me.
so i'll just run the line harder!!
smash. bruise. rip my arms apart.
your needle.
your drug.
your cataclysmic disaster.
this powder has your name on it.
you just blew me to the wind.
speckled art on my skin:
the rig is one hell of an artist.
an eye for design,
and an affinity for train tracks;
marking the territory of the paths its traveled.
my heart can stop.
it wouldn't be tragic;
it'd be the most tranquil way to sail away.
rocking atop cerulean waters:
the opium sea
warming my ice block soul.
i seem alone.
but, this is your needle.
you named it Disregard,
and decided to shoot me dead.
b a ng.
unafraid:
my disheveled direction.
scrambled mosaic.
blackened eyes
pleading.
i grasped, reached, grappled in desperation.
..there was nothing there.
you cannot weed your way through any chasm;
but, there is one trail that always leads to fruition:
..my circulatory system.
flooded fields of white horses free to run wild
in all their splendor.
i am swimming in liquid morphine,
playing tag with snow white.
even if it kills me
no one lived inside
a more fanciful fairytale.
With papers streaming from my fingertips, falling to her bedspread, I stared lifelessly beyond the walls and pictures around me. Through deafening haze, my eyes weaved through the childhood we'd built in this room, searching for anything familiar. Strewn beneath a pile of clothes at the foot of the bed laid her bible – the same one we'd once carved into the spine: little Janie loves big Jesus.
..with a hard, hollow thud against the hardwood floor, I collapse beneath me and angrily wondered where He was now?! Where was Janie? And...where was I? As my tears echoed in the empty room, the answer shoutedback at me: gone.
How do you cast out an Amber Alert for a lost soul, lost God, and lost innocence?
You don't.
You just pray they return to you alive.
I picked up my phone and sent the only words I could find "I'm here."
Related content
Comments: 84
Dearheart, addiction is such a relentless foe, a deadly tool in the hands of the enemy of our souls. I've watched people fight, fall, rise up again... it's not an easy process... it's something you really have to WANT, to fight for, and only by the grace of God can strength be found to follow through. I will pray for you both, dear one. It can be beaten.
I know how desperately you must want to help, and I know the feeling of powerlessness over these circumstances, but your support and love can be a lifeline to her when she may not be able to see any way out. And God's hands reach out to her through you. Never doubt the power of His love. He wants to rescue her more than anyone, and from the depth of your own desperation you know how powerful that love of His must be, boundless as the sky and more.
The style of this piece, the depth, the pain, the fear, the love; it's incredibly powerful. Thank you for having the courage to share, and never forget that you aren't alone.
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I did guess, and now I know. 
You're doing so well, hun. Don't give up, and never forget that you aren't alone. My parents have 23 years clean, and by the grace of God you can reach that too, and pass it, and keep right on going. You're precious, dear one, and have such amazing talent. You don't need those things, and your life is not defined by your addiction. Hang on to Him, sweetheart, and He'll never let you down. 
And I'm here if you'd ever like to talk, just so you know. Also here is a site that my mom put together, and you might find it useful hun. It's a forum, not very active, but there's contact information and some good stuff to read - [link]
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Kristie, I'm listening.
I think I understand some bits, and some bits I don't... but that is okay.
Sometimes it's best to just listen and not try to work it all out.
Love <3
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thank you for listening; if there's anything you don't understand; ask:
i'm willing to explain it.
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I've noticed that before, heroine. The edit was a good one, and reading the piece again brought the feelings all back again just as strong. Normally I'm less affected on re-reading something.. but not this time! That more than anything speaks for how strong this is.
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wow, that's the biggest compliment.
especially because i'm the same way -- not usually effected the second time through.
and i'm sorry i havent' replied to your comment yet.
deep, intense comment usually hang around longer until i feel at that same level of connectedness to reply to their intensity.
but i'm definitely getting there. and, this piece is definitely hard to get some courage to face the music in the comments to and that's another reason i've waited.
but i'm getting there.
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it's okay darling, take as long as you need!
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The dreams we had, in time, become the nightmares that define the territories borderlines, dividing love from what's divine.
Whether driven there or walked, or slowly crawling till you stop, the end result is still to fiend, just a ootton made sanguine, and with a glisten in your eye, you reherse that long and sad goodbye.
Scratch on paper all details, all successes, where you've failed, thinking peace in this you'll find, but instead it fills your mind, with those questions that capsize the sinking ship of sanity, but know at least the lifeboat's fine, and labeled built for you and for these times
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from janie:
. . and what if those nightmares i'm about to receive are far more mild than the nightmares i've already suffered and am now trying to escape. no hauntings of self-imposed destruction could compare to the nightmares terrorizing me all these year. no drug dream is pleasant, either, let alone the manifestations of horror i'm planting in my own back yard to relive behind my eyelids during supposed rest (or, lest you argue, in my afternoons very much awake).
. . if the end result is to fiend, why should i bother stopping?
. . maybe you think my etching on paper, my failures and successes, experiences and detailed accounts of experience are all for not (if it just fills my my with capsizing questions), but my scribblings on paper are what set me free. see the notebook paper yourself that these words found themselves constructed upon over monthssss .. and that was my only safety to fall asleep. write it down, get it out, free my mind and fall to sleep. if my rest is unimportant, then i shall scratch no more -- on paper that is. only to deliver to me to a constant itch.
yours truly,
janie.
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This is just utterly amazing...powerful...so scary.
It's unbearable to watch someone go through this hell and not want help out of it, wanting so damn much to grab them and shake them and tell them to wake up and let go of this demon, but knowing that alone won't ever be enough once someone is in it's clutches. My heart goes out to Janie and I hope that with your help, and the help of anyone close to her who realises what's going on, that she can beat this and come out the other side and shine again. My heart goes out to you for being one who wants to help but not knowing what to do. I pray for both of you, and I know prayers can do wonders. Have faith, and most of all don't give up on her. She needs you now more than ever.
Little Janie loves big Jesus...well He loves her too, and wants her back!
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mmph,
srry it took me so long to get back to you on this.
it's been a rough riding deviation.
but thank you so much for your love and support and care and nurturing and strength.
...but most of all thank you for your statement of faith.
..something we all needed a reminder of this easter sunday.
thank you.
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My pleasure Kristie 
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thank you.
so much.
and i do too
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I am sorry to hear that your friend has this problem. I am particularly sorry to hear that she isn't ready to try to get back out of this hole. It may be dark and quiet and comfortable and away from your stresses, but it is still a hole.
I will try to comment more if/when I have time. I feel bad only doing something this short and trite so I will try to write more.
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don't work about your commenting dear.
and thank you so much for your love
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This is so disjointed, so emotional, so bare and raw.
Janie, Janie, it's gonna be okay. The waves of pain and anguish coming off of this scare me. Strangely, the fairy tales scare me just as much. You can get lost in pain and anger and destructiveness, but you can find your way back. It's exhausting to feel so much! However.. the fantasies are so much more.. seductive.
I don't know what to say, but I desperately hope you can save her, Kristie.
...as a side note, the 'Romeo and Juliet' one stood out to me the most. The bitterness was so strong. The second most strong thing was: "ihatehim|ihatehim|ihatehim
this is his little monster.
he just let the beast devour me.
so i'll just run the line harder!!"
That part... really, just made me shudder. I don't know what else to say.
(oh, and keep your dollar.)
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"the waves of pain and anguish coming off of this scare me." ....me too.
"Strangely, the fairy tales scare me just as much." ...you couldn't be more right. people don't stay stuck in dreams and wonderlands for any other reason than their, like you said, seductive nature. who WANTS to leave that. you cannot FIND that anywhere else on this planet. ..only beyond them.
..you're right. you can find your way back from anger .. you can find the beauty.
but there is NO great letdown than finding your "way back" from a dream sequence of fanciful flight. coming back to reality and the joys here and so pale and bland and so small from the dream there. it's not wonder people find themselves stuck there. who wouldn't RATHER be there? ...after all, isn't that why fairytales were created in the first place?
and i'm glad that you also caught the passion and fury and hurt and pain and sudden surge of betrayal and hurt and the only "revenge" is against one's self. i'm glad those spoke to you. after all, they're the reasons behind such struggle to begin with.
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..Yes.. However, Are fantasies the answer? Today in my philosophy class we talked about a novel called "The Plague" that we're reading. The town that is struck by plague is, before the epidemic, a normal town. People are strictly business and save pleasure for the weekends and evenings. We talked about many things, but it led to a discussion on habits. Humans are moral creatures, guided by thoughts of right and wrong. The world often disregards morals, things just happen by chance or coincidence. In order to survive, they don't think about it. They shut down. They form habits and follow life on autopilot so they don't have to worry about the fact that a freak accident could kill them next week, or some other disaster. They go through on autopilot, and they live their lives... without LIVING their lives.
Fantasies?? Are the habit in this story. You go through, you miss out on your life! The sweet moments that amount to so much more than any rush, thrill ride... you name it.
I.. I guess I went on a bit of a ramble there. I hope you understand what I was getting at!
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I want to cry..
I NEED to cry..
But, I can't..
My mind speaks faster then I can think.
.
.
.
So I clench my hands into fists, only to realize the worthless feeling has come again to visit me in the night. it's daytime, but these bloody roses have sweat onto my arms..
I just don't know what to SAY..
.
.
I'm always here if you need me Kristie. I love you very very much.
I mean it when I say that.
So don't worry.
You're an amazing person.
*hugs gently*
Stay strong Kristie.
~Gabriel~
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you're allowed to cry.
and if you can't right now; revisit it and maybe something will come.
i know that this is a loaded submission with near an impossible thing to say to it.
don't worry about the words.
i promise you this.
it's okay.
and thank you for the comforting support.
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you're welcome.
and thank you as well for the comforting support. i'm grateful. more then words can say.
anytime, anything i can do, i will do. if it's for you, then I don't mind.
is it okay to think it's a beautiful piece, even though the emotion and meaning behind it are meaningful?
i say those words to you as well.
it's okay.
*nods*
stay strong Little One.
~Josh~
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thank you thank you. and no ones called me "little one" in so so long. tehehe
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you're welcome
well i'll always call you little one any time you want
~Josh~
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It was a really personal piece. To me, the opening was the most curiously touching with the little note and chaotic little scribbles and notes. The rest became a lot more raw; in some ways more powerful, in some ways harsher. But I think that's what will convince someone how real and raw an experience can be.
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i'm super glad that you felt that way.
thank you so much for your thoughts; they really meant a lot to me.
would you like that dollar i promised?
tehe
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Ahaha, no, I'm quite alright. That dollar can go to Beth's fund if that's still up and running.
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ha, no, that's no longer in existence nor have i talked to her in ages.
annnnnd, the fund of grand proportions actually needs to be my own, buuut oh wells.
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Well, take the dollar for yourself then. And a little love
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This made me cry. I'm praying for a friend right now, and oh god...this world is such a sad place. Why is it that people who just need to here an "it'll be okay" don't even get that much?
I'm sorry, Kristie
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aww .. i love you.
YOU are a FANTASTIC friend is why you are.
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And I did understand the drug references. I just finished looking up all the songs, and I understand the song references too, now. I guess I'm understanding a couple of your journals more and one of your formspring answers.
I didn't dare to ask in my comment above, but did Janie make it? I wasn't sure.
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janie's making it. she's going hard and strong and fighting everyday. she's a good kid and always will be. she's gonna make it. i know it.
and as for it being obvious that it was about drugs, as i told someone else: "oh, it was no secret that it was about drugs -- there are just sommmme terms/themes, etc. that in a literary sense lose their brilliance because some don't realize that a certain word, in an otherwise benign sentence, held symbolic meaning is all." in other words, sure, a lot of times it was a direct reference. but there are some realllllly slang terms used here that even a LOT of active user don't commonly say, so they just look like a "pretty line of poetry" but instead held a symbolic meaning. that kinda thing
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No, of course it was about drugs. I was talking about the specific terms. And when it comes to things like this, the emotion normally means a lot more than the poetic sense or whatever. In a piece like this, to hell with poetry and metaphors and rhetoric. It's heartbreaking enough.
I'm so glad to know she survived. And the scrawling on the table reference? That hit particularly hard. I know I've been there so many times. I used to set my messenger settings so that I was invisible to everybody, and then put up a status message just to express myself. I've always looked deeper into things like status messages and scribblings and doodles since then.
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ohmigoodness, me too. (about the scribbles and random bits/thoughts/phrases people use)
as for symbolism though -- i actually WANTED it to run through, like why i certain words were place where they were, makes that be the common strand through it all.
for example .. like most people don't even call black pearl and blue star the same thing -- sounds "pretty", but had a massssssive double meaning. i think most of the others are pretty obvious to another user or familiar user .. though most still call eight balls speedballs instead and eightball (depending where you are is kinda a lost term) and thus confused for the "predict my future' only purpose. everything else is pretty damn obvious though to a user/knowledgable person. (unless of course you don't know layne staley of alice in chains and then, welp, you just missing out on a biggggg one, lol)
but i'm sosososooooo glad someone understands the importance of one-liners and random sentence fragments. ....they sve my life and i cannot go to bad without paper by my bed for that very reason. always something to say. always.
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Absolutely. I talk to a lot of drug users, and I guess my vocabulary has just developed? At first I used to be lost, because there are so MANY words and terms, and it gets so confusing...but I read through hundreds of sites and got my terms straight at long last.
The one-liners and random sentence fragments is me too. Most of the times I can't really come up with a supporting poem, but those little pieces feel precious to me.
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ditto.
if i can't get the sentence/fragment ut of my head, it WILL eat me aliveeee.. ickyickyyy
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May I ask who Janie is?
And unfortunately I got all the references to the drugs whether it was meant literally or just metaphorically it is troubling. I am aware of the "non-fiction" tag at the top of the page... which makes me worry about you...
And you can keep your dollar because I'd just trade it in to listen.
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oh, it was no secret that it was about drugs -- there are just sommmme terms/themes, etc. that in a literary sense lose their brilliance because some don't realize that a certain word in an otherwise benign sentence held symbolic meaning is all.
and it IS a non-fiction tag because it IS a "true" story -- as in the sections of writing were really written by a girl in immense pain -- verbatim. it felt disingenuine to choose "fiction" just because "i" didn't discover the mess quite this a the tale suggest (thus it's more "based on a true story", but i still felt bad to Janie to just call it "all made up") ....so Janie's a troubled little sweetgirl who fell to pieces and nooooooo one knew about it, noooooo one saw it comng. and it seemed to happen all but overnight. though, while the physical downfall happened "overnight" as the writing tells, the psychological addiiction and fantasy of the drug was there looooooong before it hit her veins. the rig was just the catalyst. still. no one saw it coming. no one knows how to help. only two people are reaching out to her or know (aside those she's run deals with), so she's, needless to say, not gettng "help" .. not like what is needed anyway. because it's still a part of her secret world.
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Do you help her?
Also, about that bit where "no one saw it coming", sometimes
all the signs are there...it's just a matter of knowing where
to look.
How old is Janie? Where are her parents? Who's going to help her?
-sigh-
I know you probably don't have answers...
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i do absolutely EVERYTHING in my power. EVERYTHING.
the signs were there, but the rest of the world turned a blind eye because "she was the perfect, good, spotlessly perfect girl everyone loved and looked up to and admire -- one who would NEVER do anything "wrong" or "bad" ..." so, they missed every sign that she was 'slipping out the back door'. ...i knew better. i saw it coming. did everything i could to prevent it. do everything i can now to heal it.
she is 22. her parents are around but completely "not around" also. think she's perfect too and don't need to worry about her or care. ....but that's the main thing. ...they don't care. at all. about her or anything or anyone but themselves.
i don't know "who's going to help her'. there are a few of us in on the fight; but you can't save someone not ready to be saved yet. but, we're about making sure it doesn't get worseeee until we discover a safe solution to make it better.
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Just to clarify, I didn't meant that question to sound judging.
Merely was just wondering if you were one that was helping her.
Sad about the parents... usually it's because of the ignorance,
the fact that they "don't worry because they don't need to", that
drives someone out the back door. A real shame.
You're right about the,"not ready to be saved" part. Because they
won't give it up until they're ready to.
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I'm sorry for the judgmental comment above, I thought Kristie did get hurt. I'm really sorry, I tend to jump to conclusions
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It's fine hun. No worries. I understand how things can sometimes be read the wrong way.
And on a different note: Hi. How are you doing today?
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Oh good, I'm glad I'm forgiven 
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for holding grudges. Bit of a pacifist. And I'm doing well
enough. Bout to head home actually. Hope you have a
good day.
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no, i so knew what you meant.
i'm a little (okay, a LOT confused where the below comment came from about something being hurtful?)
i didn't hear anything hurtful and i totally feel you completely on your position. i was right there with you.
and you hit the nail on the head with all your other comments in this one too
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Well you put a lot of emphasis on the fact that you
were doing EVERYTHING within your power. I just wanted
to make sure nothing was misconstrued. [I wonder if that
word is even spelled correctly. To lazy to check.]
Hope things take a turn for the better.
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