Hahah

I've spent most of my time in asheville in bed, or on the couch.
Hah.

Hey baby, lets dance.

my fingertips are hanging on to the cracks
in our foundations

So, I feel good today. Good in the way that I want to miss my medication today.
I won't, but I want to. At least I'm not feeling like a zombie today, and I know medication helped get me to where I am right now. I really don't know where I would be right now, if I hadn't gotten the help I needed.
Speculation doesn't do anything. =)

I'm sitting on Jules' bed, watching her pack, and it reminds me of a moment 2 years ago when I watched B pack up her crappy room. I was filled with a happiness that deteriorated soon after that, but now, my happiness is quieter, more secure. When I thought B and I were going to live in a bungalow with cats and wind chimes, I was sooo full of it. But now, now I'm happy because the dark is behind me instead of in front of me. I'll move back on campus, enjoy the whirlwind of possibilities there. Walk to the cafeteria and eat bread, walk through the botans whenever I want. I'm not saying it will be easy all the time, or that I don't still have work to do. But I'm on a good path.

And as for that warm, fuzzy area in my life, I'm stuck between hesitation and excitement. Which is how it's supposed to be, I guess. And while the past doesn't exist in this realm, it exists on a realm close enough for me to feel dangerous and in a pause. I want to keep my indecisiveness at bay this time. If I get to a point where it might rear its head and become an attribute of a self-sabotaging nature.



I'm cleaning my slate, Locke would be proud, but because it's all on the surface I find that people think it's acceptable to give me negative feedback. Which, thank you, I'm well aware about. And I want to be the whole person that I am. I want to be genuine to myself, to my living, and to the people that I surround myself with. But I'm getting genuinely tired of people thinking that they have their shit figured out, and I'm just grasping at straws. I'm getting myself figured out by the time I'm 21, and then I'm going to do what I'm meant to do with my life. And I have been keeping my mouth shut about people who obviously have their own shit to work on because everyone does it in their own time. But I am not a mess of a person who can't seem to see the difference between up and down. (Granted if you want to get into that, there isn't really a difference between the two...anyways.)
I can communicate with myself in a clear and healthy way now, and that is more than a lot of people can say for themselves. And I can communicate with other people. Not that I always do, but I have the capacity to.
So the next time I find someone encouraging my faults without recognizing their own, I'm not going to hold back. I'm not going to be mean. But I won't hold back, at all.
Just a forewarning. =)



It's beautiful outside today.

Out of sorts.

Ugh, ugh is all I can really say about my day. Minus seeing Jan and Liane.

I woke up around 7:30 this morning crying uncontrollably. A dream has never done that to me before, but there I was this morning, crying my eyes out and waking up confused.
It was a rough morning, that I slept it off until around 12.


I'm all tattoed up, finally, and they feel pretty good. They didn't at the time, but now I'm really glad I got them.

I don't know why my dream happened the way it did. Maybe for the tattoo, maybe for the new story I'm writing.

Who knows.


Nothing too deep today.

Permanent Nation.

Should I decide it's true?

It's just me and Pa again. The house is quiet and my eyes ache from straining them.
I feel settled today. I went to Tattoo Asylum with Jules and was fine...the entire time. Granted I wasn't in the tattooing chair, not yet at least, but I was comfortable with myself. I wasn't angsty or jumpy or anything like that. Or, not rooted in panic. It's more of the butterfly sensation these days. Which is weird. Not bad, just not really expected. I still get surprised sometimes....and I'm like..."wait."

"what????"

I'm excited about school. Really and truly. I found someone to take over my lease, so, no more living in hell.

I think it's time to take a really long, hot, shower.

Must fix my computer!!!!!

Bahumbug.

<3

Hypochondria ftl.

I took a few steps back.

I've been on WebMD's symptom checker.

For shame.



Some killer advice from my Dad:

"Looking inward is an amazing talent to have,
but our eyes look outward for a reason."
(In response to Janet)

I've learned how to see myself, now I just have to learn how to see the world again.
My Dad is surprisingly deep and odd sometimes.

"Perhaps there remains for us some tree on a hillside, which every day we can take into our vision;
there remains for us yesterday’s street and the loyalty of a habit so much at ease
when it stayed with us that it moved in and never left."

My existential crisis seems to gravitate towards negativity and the grandeur of confusion with each passing day. It isn't surprising, it's just vaguely annoying.
My dreams last night were clear and...good. About Asheville, going back. Living on campus, and loving. Weird. My dreams, as of late, have been incredibly vivid and therapeutic. I'm working my way through my life in my dreams. It works in odd ways.
I've realized how sensitive I need to be with myself. It's kind of ridiculous, but I need to.
Time is slipping through my fingers like it usually does. I'm always in this moment, always this moment, but this moment is always behind and in front of me. Suffocating sometimes, liberating sometimes. Forever sturdy in the fact that it exists. But fragile in the understanding that it doesn't specifically exist when it's gone. But, it's never gone, because it's still here.
Yeah, wrap your head around that one.
I get surprised sometimes, when I look down and see toes or my hands, and I do things on auto-pilot. Then I get scared and confused and I feel like I'll lose it all.
So then, I get into bed and I put on music, and I close my eyes, and remind myself I'm sturdy, and I'll live to be 80 years old.
I am tangible, and I am here.
I just forget that sometimes. I live in energy, and when I'm brought back down to a level of material and tangible knowledge, I freak out.

I've come to the conclusion that I am regrettably bat shit confused when it comes to dating or anything of the like. I've got a million and ten walls up around me. I'm brutally honest and open about my life and how I feel, but that doesn't really knock down walls for me. In fact, sometimes it just builds new ones.
I guess I'm just not comfortable in this skin. There is too much of a concentration of me.

Today isn't a day for my bed. I've got too much to do. Waking up this morning was glorious though. I was undeniably comfortable and flooded with afternoon light.


Ann will be here for our christmas celebration.
My dad is forcing this on us far too quickly.
We are supposed to write her a card welcoming her to the family.
I'm not really angry about anything. Just in this encampment of a surreal nature.


Becca and Laura ran into Janet. Said she needs to warn me about what will happen to me if I don't deal with my issues. Does she really not think I'm doing that? Becca almost killed her when she told them she thought I needed to drop out of school for a longer period of time. She's addicted to problems. And all I want is to be clear of mine...so, I'm going back to school.
I think I'll avoid her, for as long as possible. I might even skip out on the Christmas dinner.

Time to get a Christmas tree. And to get rid of my headache.

Unemotional Clarity.

I've started typing this entry a good handful of times. It always starts out forlorn and weird. But I don't feel forlorn, specifically. I feel weird...definitely. But not forlorn.

Ann lives here now. And it takes me back to when there was a strong female presence that got up early, who I could hear rummaging around. It's just the wrong person now, and it's surreal. Not necessarily bad, just surreal.

My dad has gone back to being a doting father.
Which is bullshit. unexpected. irritating.

Since when has he EVER cared that I get packaged food? If he keeps this up I'm sure a conversation will follow. I mean, it just doesn't work anymore.
His concern for my housing is warranted, and granted I've made mistakes, but whatever. It's not exactly time for him to jump in on the parent bandwagon of being orderly. Once you're off it, you're off. He might be at a point in his life where he has the energy to be a father again. But I've adjusted to not having a regular dad. And I'm not about to adjust to him becoming what he once was just because he's in love and wants to show his lady friend he's a competent father. Because news flash? He's been existing on an entirely separate plane than me for awhile.
I love him, yes, and he has done SO much for me. But there are just some things he can't decide to become and then have it magically happen. The world doesn't work that way, conscious or not.
So. Now that my little rant is in the interweb world of words and clickity's, I feel slightly better.

Guard reunion tonight was good, I was slightly awkward, considering I quit guard in a storm of fury and sadness. And I never had anything nice to say about band or guard. But, taking that into consideration, it was good to see the girls again.
It made me well aware of the world and how luck and karma roll around and take people at an odd whim.

Went to target tonight half expecting to see someone from my past, and I'm glad I didn't. I don't think I would know what to say. Or do. Something in between a hug, since time and distance has made me re-evaluate the situation, and a grandiose punch in the balls for being such a douche.
I guess it's one of those impromptu reactions that just "comes to you at the time."

As for the rest of the world. I'm struggling with my mind and my heart and trying desperately to make them connect on some logical level [so says the brain!]. They keep clashing, and then I get confused with which is which and hooray! I turn into a bumbling mass of 'what?'
I'm 19, I'll take a dose of danger, sure.

I want my own house, in the middle of the forest, and I want my own comfy couch to curl up on in front of a fire place. That's it. I want stability in the form of solid materials that can enclose me in a safe corner of the world.
Not this house anymore that reduces me to parking far away, or the apartment in asheville that makes it hard to sleep alone.

This is much more emo and ranty than I expected it to be. And for that reason I'm going to stop.

Minutes, hours, years.

Tread softly, but without limitation.

Another person shocked by my age. It's getting slightly amusing, in all honesty.

If I truly were to hang out with people that were the age I always feel, I would be in with the retired elderly that only have enough energy to watch the world around them. Or at least, I would be on my bad days.
On my good days I would spend my time with kindergartners, finger painting, laughing, and smiling without hesitation.

I need to find the 19 year old in me, it's about time I started living recklessly. I'm allowed to make stupid mistakes at my age. I want to be free. I'm too confined with worry these days. It's time to release that, and my past, and become my age.

I pulled the ten of swords reversed the other day.
It spoke of release from trauma and struggle, and entering into a positive cycle.
Followed quickly by the High Priestess, and the World.

I feel like I can start breathing again, without checking my human condition. I am very solid, and it's time to start believing that. Something in me thought I was different than the rest of the world, caught within the same condition. I always check my normality, against people that may very well be checking their own normality.

Like Randi said, I'm getting my slate cleansed by the time I turn 21.
It's about time to be carefree, eh?

Too much idle time.

I'm glad I have friends that tolerate my eccentricities. Like my odd minor hypochondriac tendencies, my desire to sleep all the time, my fluttery impatient nature. 

I hate liking people. It makes me feel like a big fool.

Yayyy.

My favorite poem

The First Elegy    

By: Rainer Maria Rilke

• Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels’
• hierarchies? and even if one of them pressed me
• suddenly against his heart: I would be consumed
• in that overwhelming existence. For beauty is nothing
• but the beginning of terror, which we are still just able to endure,
• and we are so awed because it serenely disdains to annihilate us.
• Every angel is terrifying.
• And so I hold myself back and swallow the call-note of my dark sobbing.
• Ah, whom can we ever turn to in our need?
• Not angels, not humans, and already the knowing animals are aware
• that we are not really at home in our interpreted world.
• Perhaps there remains for us some tree on a hillside, which every day we can take into our vision;
• there remains for us yesterday’s street and the loyalty of a habit so much at ease
• when it stayed with us that it moved in and never left.
• Oh and night: there is night, when a wind full of infinite space gnaws at our faces.
• Whom would it not remain for—that longed-after, mildly disillusioning presence,
• which the solitary heart so painfully meets.
• Is it any less difficult for lovers?
• But they keep on using each other to hide their own fate.
• Don’t you know yet?
• Fling the emptiness out of your arms into the spaces we breathe;
• perhaps the birds will feel the expanded air with more passionate flying.

• Yes—the springtimes needed you. Often a star was waiting for you to notice it.
• A wave rolled toward you out of the distant past,
• or as you walked under an open window, a violin yielded itself to your hearing.
• All this was mission. But could you accomplish it?
• Weren’t you always distracted by expectation, as if every event announced a beloved?
• (Where can you find a place to keep her, with all the huge strange thoughts inside you
• going and coming and often staying all night.)

• But when you feel longing, sing of women in love; for their famous passion is still not immortal.
• Sing of women abandoned and desolate (you envy them, almost)
• who could love so much more purely than those who were gratified.
• Begin again and again the never-attainable praising; remember: the hero lives on;
• even his downfall was merely a pretext for achieving his final birth.
• But Nature, spent and exhausted, takes lovers back into herself,
• as if there were not enough strength to create them a second time.
• Have you imagined Gaspara Stampa intensely enough
• so that any girl deserted by her beloved might be inspired by that fierce example of soaring,
• objectless love and might say to herself, “Perhaps I can be like her?”
• Shouldn’t this most ancient of sufferings finally grow more fruitful for us?
• Isn’t it time that we lovingly freed ourselves from the beloved and,
• quivering, endured: as the arrow endures the bowstring’s tension,
• so that gathered in the snap of release it can be more than itself.
• For there is no place where we can remain.

• Voices. Voices. Listen, my heart, as only saints have listened:
• until the gigantic call lifted them off the ground;
• yet they kept on, impossibly, kneeling and didn’t notice at all: so complete was their listening.
• Not that you could endure God’s voice—far from it.
• But listen to the voice of the wind and the ceaseless message that forms itself out of silence.
• It is murmuring toward you now from those who died young.
• Didn’t their fate, whenever you stepped into a church in Naples or Rome,
• quietly come to address you?
• Or high up, some eulogy entrusted you with a mission,
• as, last year, on the plaque in Santa Maria Formosa.
• What they want of me is that I gently remove the appearance of injustice about their death—
• which at times slightly hinders their souls from proceeding onward.

• Of course, it is strange to inhabit the earth no longer,
• to give up customs one barely had time to learn,
• not to see roses and other promising Things in terms of a human future;
• no longer to be what one was in infinitely anxious hands;
• to leave even one’s own first name behind,
• forgetting it as easily as a child abandons a broken toy.
• Strange to no longer desire one’s desires.
• Strange to see meanings that clung together once, floating away in every direction.
• And being dead is hard work and full of retrieval before one can gradually feel a trace of eternity.
• Though the living are wrong to believe in the too-sharp distinctions which
• they themselves have created.
• Angels (they say) don’t know whether it is the living they are moving among, or the dead.
• The eternal torrent whirls all ages along in it, through both realms forever,
• and their voices are drowned out in its thunderous roar.

• In the end, those who were carried off early no longer need us:
• they are weaned from earth’s sorrows and joys,
• as gently as children outgrow the soft breasts of their mothers.
• But we, who do need such great mysteries,
• we for whom grief is so often the source of our spirit’s growth—:
• could we exist without them?
• Is the legend meaningless that tells how, in the lament for Linus,
• the daring first notes of song pierced through the barren numbness;
• and then in the startled space which a youth as lovely as a god has suddenly left forever,
• the Void felt for the first time that harmony which now enraptures and comforts and helps us.
• 
  
• 
  

I feel at the opposite end of the happy spectrum today. I feel more...nostalgic. A little lost, prone to isolating myself. It's one of those 'force yourself out of the house,' days. 

I'm also slightly irritated about ignoring my instincts. I'm going to take care of myself this time, and follow what everyone else is saying. 

Eh, maybe that means I'm growing up?

Rilke always captures my thoughts in this poem, regardless of what my thoughts are.

j

f

Kick me in the foot.

Apparently eyes get dilated in dark rooms. Especially after you sleep.

Who knew? 

Smart people, that's who. 

SPECTACULAR.

I feel as though it's nap time.

I should be using this time to write my book.

Mystery Lights

"When there is nothing else to burn

 You have to set yourself on fire."

Center. I feel centered tonight.

I wonder if people know that if they deny you of something you want, you want it even more.

I've always been like that. Challenge, challenge, challenge me. Only briefly. Because if you aren't responsive, I won't feel encouraged. I like people who keep me on my toes, I like intelligent people, even if they fart. Hahah.

"Live through this, and you won't look back."

I feel good, knowing I'm securely over everything I need to be over. I feel slightly, if momentarily, stable in the life that I'm dragging myself through. I ran up my stairs tonight with a contagious laughter in my chest. I am delighted that my interest is peaked. It hasn't been for awhile now, it's about goddamn time.

I feel something coming, I feel something really good just around the corner from me, even if I can't sleep until it gets here.

I've been getting overwhelmed by the magic in the world lately. I feel it overpowering me and making me exhausted. Granted. That is probably the insomnia speaking, but just in case it isn't...

I haven't done a reading for awhile. I'm not sure what's stopping me. Nothing special, I just haven't had the control I've needed for it. Maybe tonight. Probably, I need a heads up on the direction some aspects of my life are taking.

I wish I'd done a reading at Dot's place. There's always electricity in the air when we do readings together. Alas, alas.

I want a fireplace and a warm body, and some hot chocolate, and a movie, and maybe some heavy snow, and maybe some yummy fruit and yaddayadda.

It's been a lonely winter so far. Has winter even started? Something in me knows that's going to change soon, but here, in this moment, I feel like I'm in limbo.

I'm not as sick anymore, maybe because my mind is too preoccupied with other thoughts.

Ugh, I just keep rambling, and it's getting me nowhere.

The point is that I felt really good tonight. Happy. Content. Time flew, instead of creeping like it usually does.

There are too many I's in this entry. That needs to be worked on.

Working already!!

It was snowing on my way home. Walking in the snow made me feel so...tangible, genuine, solid.

I hope it sticks.