Hannah Morgan

There is more of my shit on his floor than his.

2009-09-20T19:25:00.000-07:00

I'm not really sure what's been going on for the past handful of weeks. There's been a shift in me, which is both good and bad. Good in that I'm recognizing that I might feel confused, and uprooted, but I'm a lot more together than I thought. Bad in that the past few days have been shitty and I feel a lot lower than I've felt in a while.

I don't spend much time in my apartment. I should probably spend more time there, but the place makes me feel stagnant. I can't focus on schoolwork, and more often than not I've got bad allergies. I've spent the most amount of time there over the past few days.
I had an anxiety attack last night, in the bathroom of my apartment. I know it's different from last year simply because I was alone, I wasn't in an academic setting. I have no idea what that means though. Ever since I've been weirded out. There are a number of variables to it, I imagine. Not eating enough, getting too much sleep.

I need another job. All this idleness isn't helping. But I'm so unbelievably happy that I quit. Texts from an asshole & company just made me realize how crappy the employees of hhgregg are. You'd think I'd get less shit after quitting. Alas.

Moving on.

I've been thinking about next semester a lot. What I'll be doing, where I'll be doing it. I'll be in Asheville, sure, but I need to make changes. I need to make a lot of changes. I want to be happier than this, and I feel held down by ignoring what I need. By not facing myself, wrapping myself up in too many other things. Trying to be someone that I am quite obviously not.

Talking to Becca the other day, before the anger, I realized that wanting to feel settled isn't a bad thing. I talked to her about wanting a family, and a home. Not a place that I will grow out of, but a place that I will grow in to. I'm almost 21, and I feel so much closer to 30.
I want to have a house, and a garden, and a dog. I want to have friends over for dinner and music.
People my age think I'm a prude and not fun.
A lot of the time I want to justify myself, because I hate people having the wrong impression of me. But I don't feel like that anymore. I'm so done with being indirect, and not saying what I want as to not interfere with everyone else's feelings.

I don't want to escape from my problems, I want to deal with them, digest them, and move on a little stronger. I want to figure everything out so I can start helping people. And so I can live my life to the fullest, as opposed to letting life live me. I want authenticity and happiness, roots, and good friends.

And those things won't come searching for me. I have to find them. I have to create an environment that will make me happy. And I have to surround myself with people that will satiate my desire for good company and true friendship. I can do that.
I just have to get over my self inflicted obstacles. I have to regain confidence and feel like a genuinely good person again.

Okay, enough rambling. I have a paper to write.

2009-09-16T08:24:00.001-07:00

I forgot how gay I am. Ohmygoodness.

Some kind of ballad

2009-09-03T21:52:00.000-07:00

Oh memory of snow white.

I hate this keyboard I'm typing on.
It's a roll-up squishy thing
that frequently misses the letters I'm sure I typed.

I'm still defining myself, in my mind and in my actions. It doesn't conjure a lie, or a deviation from my truth. It's grounding, and it makes me feel at home in myself.

I don't have much to say.
I'm entering into a spell of quiet.
A grounded kind,
but one of retreat and self-stability.

When I close my eyes and think of my future, I see myself standing in the mist on the parkway, wrapped in a hoodie, looking out into the world from a strong center. A peaceful center, full of love. Which won't be cultivated by another person, but by myself.

I saw mf yesterday. It was short and sweet,
but it was long enough to make me realize I miss her.
I don't know what that means for me internally, so I won't dwell on it. She's a positive and grounding influence in a train wreck of people I've decided to call my own.

I've got a story growing in me. I've got a spark of creativity that I hope settles down and stays for awhile.

This isn't for you, it's a reminder for myself.

2009-08-06T20:26:00.000-07:00

let's rest for awhile til our souls catch us up...
i've pushed you down deep in my soul for too long.

I have always been confounded by the human ego. I drift between desperately clinging to my own, and acknowledging that my mental state of "I" is a creation of my own being.
I have not reached a point in being comfortable with stepping away from my idea of "me." Maybe it won't happen this time around. Maybe it will.
I find myself reaching to experience something other than this skin. I'm not comfortable in my body, and my mind always gives me pause. I have so many lessons to learn, and sometimes I can't handle the dysfunction of being human. The conflicting emotions, trying to learn what being true to myself means while making ample mistakes. Running over people, running through people. Not wanting anyone to think ill of me.
Maybe that makes me self-conscious, or perhaps just irritatingly naive and sensitive.

So here I am with another indecision, and another question. Or multiple.

I miss my friends. Nights in with ice cream and laughter, time spent in cemeteries and wondering about the world. I've been realizing more and more who I am these days, and who I'm not.
I'm a natural introvert. I hate admitting that, but there is no getting around it. I am most comfortable with myself and few others. Partying takes the ground out from under me, which is good sometimes, but not on a regular basis. I feel older than a lot of people my age, which makes it hard to connect with people. I honestly feel more myself with middle-aged family friends. Bizarre, no?
I like sugar way too much for my own good. I ignore messes. Or, I'm oblivious to them until there are a million fruit flies in my kitchen and I actually realize it's for a reason. I love sex, don't get me wrong, but it comes in second a lot of the time. I'm intense. I'm not the light-hearted youthful friend a lot of the time. Intensity and introspection are things I naturally fall into. So I might help you clear out deep, dark secrets that involve a lot of crying and emotion, but I probably won't be the first person you call to get drunk. I just have to get used to that. I'm not charismatic like my sisters. Instead, I generally give off a bitchy vibe that doesn't go away until someone puts in the time to get to know me. I've been compared to Daria in that way. I wish I could be simpler, and I could be the light-hearted life of the party. It's just not in me, and I have to stop pretending it is. I like cooking at home and watching something good on tv, reading a book, or driving up to the parkway. I've got a streak of vanity when it comes to art. I really love modeling and creating characters that are in no way like me at all. Live music shows freak me out, or some do. I get anxious in big crowds that are hard to move around in. And I've found that rock shows just send me into a frenzy. Put me in front of a blue grass stage, a violinist, or Enter the Haggis, I'm all for it though. I am greatly drawn to the female archetype in art. I've carried that love with me my entire life. I think that I'll end up settling down with a woman, or R. Don't ask me why, it's just the way it feels to me. I have the tendency to be lazy and not get things done. My self control is all out of whack. Meaning, specifically, that I can't wake myself up in the morning unless I'm going to work, cleaning is an in the moment action that arises oddly, and is usually done by the time I acknowledge that I have been cleaning.
I believe in guides. And energy. And spirits. But not in the flashy way a lot of people do. My beliefs are much more quiet and thoughtful. I am drawn to the virgin Mary in catholic practices. Not the strict idea that she was a virgin [such hog-wosh!], just the universal symbol of maternity. Spirituality has also been carried with me throughout my life, in some way or another.
I lose myself a lot. I'm actually pretty lost right now, or maybe I'm not. I thought I was, but I feel pretty grounded. I think I am getting back to knowing who I am.
My next step, I feel, is to dig a little deeper in the dark part of me. Not my childhood, but my now. How I feel about things now. I have to figure that out and move forward in a healthy and productive way. I have to stop seeing myself as a horror, or a monster.

I also have to go to sleep. Now that that is out in the interweb, I feel a bit better. Less muddy at least. And now I've got to rest before my morning shift. Being distanced from the real world today has been a marginal roller coaster, but it's been good.

Florence and the Machine

2009-08-03T13:46:00.001-07:00

A falling star fell from your heart and landed in my eyes
I screamed aloud, as it tore through them, and now it's left me blind

The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out
You left me in the dark
No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight
In the shadow of your heart

And in the dark, I can hear your heartbeat
I tried to find the sound
But then it stopped, and I was in the darkness,
So darkness I became

The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out
You left me in the dark
No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight
In the shadow of your heart

I took the stars from our eyes, and then I made a map
And knew that somehow I could find my way back
Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too
So I stayed in the darkness with you

The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out
You left me in the dark
No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight
In the shadow of your heart

The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out
You left me in the dark
No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight
In the shadow of your heart

2009-07-21T13:04:00.000-07:00

Lunch break, a dandy time to blog!

I despise work today. Despise it. I have been one of the only people on register practically all day, and have gotten all the worst customers ever.

In fact, I got called 'crazy' by a hill-billy bumpkin because I wouldn't give him cash back on a check order. Ah yes, the dilemma of incest.
Please do not produce babies with family members. It will spare me the horror of witnessing their inability to mingle with the rest of the human race.

After that I left went to the bathroom and had a grandiose meltdown. I don't like being perceived as weak, so having T see my eyes and try to comfort me just made it a bit worse.

That's what happens when you don't give someone a goddamn day off for 8 days. 84 fucking continuous hours my ass.
The only reason I haven't quit yet is because the other people that work in the digital center can not afford someone else leaving.

Weaving Smoke

2009-06-21T19:40:00.000-07:00

Photo Shoot with Mateo.

We drove up to the parkway and got to the top of a mountain just as the storm rolled in. For the first hour we sat in his truck, goofing off as the rain and clouds gathered around us.
It was beautiful, watching the clouds rush in. Above and beneath us. We couldn't see past the truck windows due to the fog.
After the storm cleared out we finally got to take some pictures outside. This place was magic. Appropriate for the Midsummer air. I felt like I was inbetween worlds.
The pictures speak for themselves, so I'll let you take a gander. (Just for those of you that cannot handle breasts: please, do not look.)

We went here: (so, so, so beautiful)

A collection of Oddities

2009-06-12T14:36:00.001-07:00

I love life's little obscurities that make my days feel good. Take today.
I made friends with my new neighbors today. Two identical speckled bird that sit perched on my balcony, both relaxed and watching the world. I hope they are in love. Birdlove.
They can have the balcony, it's as much theirs as it is mine, right?

And then I went to Wendy's (I know I told myself I would quit fast food...but I was hungry. And I enjoyed it and do not feel guilty whatsoever). I paid in all quarters. And dimes. And pennies. And the cashier guy called me love multiple times.
Now, generally I would be freshly annoyed by someone calling me that besides a select few. But today it made me smile and I felt a little warmer. And it made me want to go back to Wendy's. Not just for the number 1 with no onion; added cheese.

Last night was spent in a huff, for god knows why. I gave Mateo the silent treatment for the first time, over a misunderstanding. And for some irrational reason it led to me thinking about his absence. Because, you know when things are just so forceably distant when the silent treatment is used? Yeah, it got to me. And I ended up crying and not staying irritated for longer than like 5 minutes. I am such an ungodly baby sometimes. It's so irritating to look back at. It even makes me cringe to type it. But it happens.

I'm embarking upon another artistic vein of living. This time it involves modeling. Now, don't start laughing just yet. I'm well aware that I am 5'2. Or less.
But I'm talking about artistic modeling. I love it, I love playing in characters and stepping outside of myself. Matt and I are so full of ideas now for art that we can create together. I might put the g-rated ones here, we'll see.

Nothing poetic today. Here are some picturas!

Distance

2009-06-05T17:43:00.000-07:00

These past days have felt familiar. This day feels familiar.

I am gone, led through the day with a jumping pulse and a strong desire not to leave my room. I remember this feeling. I remember it and I don't like it.

Anxiety, really? Over what? I don't know what it is this time, maybe I've just been in bed too long. But it's here nonetheless. The edge, the distance, the uncomfortable blankness. Even the agoraphobia to a degree. What then, why do I feel like this? I know the answer, I know it's my own mind. But I'm so tired of this. So, so tired.

Some days are better than others. But the past two days have been bad. I start thinking about death, and I become terrified of it again. The pulsing heart, the dizziness due to lack of food. I always think it leads to something it doesn't. I get so scared of dying. It's overwhelming sometimes. No, it's overwhelming most times.

I feel too needy today, too swept up in my own world to see anyone else's.
I would like to go to sleep and wake up to a better feeling day.

I am in pain.

2009-06-03T08:37:00.000-07:00

I am listening to Fleet Foxes and feeling like the apartment is too empty.
Today I hate having a vagina. I have a ridiculous UTI, again.
I woke up with it and wanted to die.
And then I paid damn near 40 dollars to get it cleared.
Now I just have to wait.
The neighbor upstairs has very loud footsteps.

I ran into that problem again. The one I had not long ago.

People think I am less gay with longer hair. How silly is that? I guess, not very. When I see short haired women I have to wonder if they are a little bit gay or not.
I feel like I will end up with a woman for life. When I want to settle down.
A woman or that one guy who will raise goats with me instead of children. The baby goats are still called kids! And the birthing is called kidding. Which I think is perfect. Can you imagine if women during pregnancy were 'kidding?'
They would all run around screaming "I'm kidding!"
I would be much more willing to have babies if that were the case. Just for the loaded irony.

Maybe I should sleep.
Blue Ridge Mountains is really the only song I like by FF.

Ok, I'm done. Time for a nap.
I really wish I were at the beach. Freaking hhgregg/me. I could be taking a nap on the sand.

My heart has slowed it's pace for a little while

2009-06-02T10:25:00.000-07:00

Last night was fun, a necessity. Granted the cops were all too sobering, but we were setting off firecrackers from the kitchen patio and hollering into the night. Luckily nothing happened and we went on inside, leaving a little of the strong drunken laughter under the sky.
I really enjoyed the company. I enjoyed playing dress-up in silly clothes from the closet in the living room. I enjoyed feeling content with a group of people I get along with.
As opposed to feeling removed, which I have felt regarding most social things for awhile now. Mainly since Avalon left, because it's just bizarre to be here living in a gathered way without her.

A lot of me wishes I had gotten into the car this morning and made my way to the beach. But I'll stay here and take care of boring things like jobs and such.
(Side note: hhgreg is officially my newest employer! Come to me to soothe your digital camera needs!). I won't make as much as I would have had I actually become a tantrica, but hey! I'd rather sell cameras than whack a guy off for 50 bucks an hour. (Though I calculated it and that is about 48,000 a year for a part-time job.) I digress,

Last night was also very full of contrast. I stayed at the boy's (where I presently am, typing away on his computer). I stumbled into his truck at 12:30, forgetting that I wouldn't be in my own car driving back today. So here I sit, waiting for him to get back from work so I can return to the Haunted Mansion. Oh, silly drunken mind.
(I came to this simple conclusion after walking to the parking lot and seeing the spot I had convinced myself I parked in empty. Minor mental break down. Calmer realization that my car was undoubtedly safe in front of my apartment. Minor mental breakdown in realizing my car was, yes, all the way at my apartment. Yayyy today.)

We spent hours in his bed last night, which is kind of muddy in my mind. But I think I may have said something bad because he retreated like I have a tendency to do, and I fell asleep confused. I wonder if that's what it's like when I retreat into my mind.
If so, I plan on altering my pattern of behavior.

For the next 30 minutes or so I focused on my rapid beating heart, which always has a way of terrifying me. I can still see the faint crescent moon marks on my arm, reminding me that I can feel.
I awoke this morning to a calmed heart. Text messages from some of my favorite people all at once. And a hunger that is still unbelievably present. One hour and 40 minutes to go!

I spun poi again last night, at the encouragement of the room. And then proceeded to try and teach C, B, J and J. Which I found endlessly amusing. And I was reminded of how much I really, really love spinning. I didn't have the heart to incorporate dance as well in front of them, just yet. We'll see if it gets there.

Summer is speeding up.

Snowfake Obsidian

2009-05-31T17:54:00.001-07:00

Sky.
Open my door to change,
Show me my own patterns,
when you cover the world.
I'll grip my thighs,
I'll bend with the road.
I'll gaze at the stars,
smoked with clouds
as they
loosen the filter of the city.
I'll make my home on pavement
protected by a familiar arm.
I'll adapt to my own change.
My new patterns.
As they
watch as I climb on top
of you.
If they aren't already dead,
they will feel [our] heat.
And the mountains
we are parallel with,
at this height,
they will gaze up and watch the stars,
as they gaze down into us.

[...unfinished, for now]

One half, One half of One (w)hole.

2009-05-28T17:59:00.000-07:00

In my nature I have the drive to
find my other half.
I once was attached to another,
a palpable repetition of my own flesh.
We rolled and danced, tumbling
with our four legs,
our four arms.
We were found and defined by connection,
complete,
experiencing the world
through malaise.

It was not a thought of two,
or four (limbs),
or twenty (toes).
It was a station of completion.
We knew not what we had,
it just was.

Our characters were not courageous
enough,
nor extreme enough,
to please our God. And so we were split,
Ripped down the middle,
torn from our natural state.
Made into half creatures that laugh,
and cry, with one set of tears,
one belly of laughter.

As it was,
so it is now,
That I have ten toes,
I have two legs, and two arms.
I have two eyes each, and two ears.
All reaching in the direction of completion.

In this direction I flail,
I am reckless. I am unwavering,
in desire.
Such an emotion that I never knew.
I thrust myself onto other half forms,
looking for that fit.
We writhe and scramble.
We shake and moan,
and we continue.
We try desperately to become one another
once again.

Though, I know now.
I know the thought of my God.
I do not find my half,
I find a breadth of emotionality.
I find despair, and lust.
I find sorrow. Sorrow that strains my knees,
Elation with each prospecting fit.
A swelling of heat within my body,
this elation. It breaks into my muscles,
builds and builds.
And then it ebbs. And I return looking.
I hit the sorrow. That sorrow that strains my knees.

I know the thought of my God.
This God who broke down my daze,
of general contentment, held in the arms of my arms
of my other half.
I am so, forced. Forced into these feelings
these impersonations of depth.
To know the absence of my half.

And so it is now. I search,
I search. And I hopefully will find.
I will find the arms that are my own,
that will comfort me in ways that my attached arms
can not.
And I will understand the strength of our halves.
I have shaken my malaise, God.
I do so, in understanding.

Though my understanding is one
of great sorrow and need.
Because in the end, I am just one half,
one half of one whole.
One whole that is incomplete.
And so I search.

Soil, Soil.

2009-05-01T17:03:00.000-07:00

I fell through the cracks at the end of our street
I pushed you down deep in my soul for too long.

It's really shocking to me when people don't know the relevance of May 2nd.
It's not in an angry "how could you not know?!" type of situation. It's rooted in awe, in shock, in complication.

That day tore my world apart, so shouldn't that world know?

I found myself really down this evening, but I couldn't for the life of me pinpoint the reason why. Maybe it's because people find me unreliable, when I'm struggling as hard as I can to get by right now. Not in an emotional sense, but school is really coming down on me. Hard.
I just have to remind myself that at the heart of the matter, tomorrow is just another day.
I see that, but then I feel the breeze on my skin, and I feel spring. And as much as I am warmed by it, as much as it expands my heart, I have sadness attached to it as well.
Maybe because I hate depending on people. And presently I have no control over it.
Maybe I cried because I'm tired of people being so overwhelmed by their own worlds. Which most definitely includes me.
Maybe I hurt because I feel like I'm expected to be sad this time of year.
Or maybe it's because in some odd way I really DO feel closer to this time three years ago when my mom died on May 2nd.
Or maybe it's because I haven't taken prozac for a couple of days. Though in that regard, that wouldn't make the pain less real, just less dealt with.

A hospice nurse once told me that the dying have no choice, they have to accept it. And even if they don't accept it, it won't change the outcome. And once they are gone, it's the ones that are left that have to be taken care of. I can not stress the truth of that statement. It's the ones that are left that have to be taken care.
And, most of the time, they have to take care of themselves. Which is something I have been utterly terrible at.

Note for the future: Let out anger. Regardless of how much I think I should walk on eggshells. It is okay to voice frustration and anger.

Ugh, I think I'll put in a movie.
I apologize for the melodramatic rant, if anyone even still reads this. Feel free to ignore! I just need my thoughts to get cast out into some form of space that won't directly hurt [too badly]. So cyberspace it is.
Eloquency is not in the cards tonight. Not when my mind feels so skittish. So there you have it.

I think I'll return to blogging soon.

Cinder and Smoke.

2009-03-17T16:53:00.001-07:00

So, I've been wanting to blog a lot recently. I feel bottled up. Everything following this may be from the result of missing two days worth of medication. I'm holding that as a heavy possibility in my mind. So, alas.

Things are going terribly amazing, and terribly atrocious all at once. Not that I expect anything more or less from my life, I mean, it's not a hidden fact that I live in intensity for the vast majority of experiences.

Lately though, I have come to an impasses with myself. I catch myself living in the moment, but it scares me. I'll be brought back to myself in the middle of speaking, saying something I would never say. Not if my walls worked the way they are supposed to. Which leads to wondering exactly who I am. When I gained confidence or felt at such ease in an unfamiliar situation.

I can't believe I started that conversation tonight. I promised myself I never would. My memories don't make sense to me, and they won't make sense to anyone else either, so why in the world would I start that? Especially with family, when there is more at stake than just me. We've all been through too much for me to be gallivanting around with memories that might not even be real. They feel more like dreams now, anyhow.

I miss R. I know he's off in another country, growing and changing, and getting rid of his mind for a spell. And I didn't see him all that frequently, but his presence was always calming.

I'm slipping a little, world. It makes me tired. School, I'm here but it's the last thing on my mind. My grades haven't ever been this bad before. At least not in college.

The boy is good. Really good. I feel safe in his arms, which is more than I can say for most of the people I have been with. We are both on the same mixed-signals page, which allows for more time to live in the moment.

Ugh, enough of this, eh? Time to read.

Quote Captain Badass.

2009-03-08T17:32:00.000-07:00

I feel like this blog is coming to the end of it's life. I'm getting into writing much more with a pen. I might go back to livejournal, or just start a new blog to keep people who aren't in Asheville up to date, but. I feel like I need to go live my life. Not type so much about it.

So, adios, loves!

2009-03-02T19:21:00.000-08:00

Riverside was beautiful.

It seems you have forgotten...

2009-03-01T21:20:00.000-08:00

Your touch intensified
and I'm in the quicksand

My god. I forgot how much dancing releases my soul. I hold back a lot, but tonight I was in my own world, full of possibilities and pirouettes. And spinning. I haven't danced in front of people for a long time. Probably for about 3 years. And even though it was mainly only in front of Jules and Austinboy, it was something. And it was exhilarating. It's like something reached into my body and told me it was okay to dance again. And dancing combined with poi, jesus. It's another world. Matching the winter wonderland that has formed outside of my window. It feels almost natural to me, I know it doesn't look natural by any means, but it feels natural. And I'll work on it until it looks natural too.

And honestly I wouldn't be here typing at my computer if I hadn't done a roundoff and pulled my groin muscle. THAT, my friends, is delightful. So, I'm in bed. And I would much rather be dancing. Dancing and spinning.

I'm really excited about tomorrow. Riverside in the snow is going to be beautiful. I've wanted so much to see it covered in snow. It's one of my favorite cemeteries in the United States.

So, I discovered this poem through my sister, and I feel like it fits. It isn't really about anyone, necessarily. It's just resonating within me tonight, and I thought I'd share.

The Invitation (By: Oriah Mountain Dreamer)

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to
be careful, be realistic, remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can
disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, 'Yes.'

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

The beast in me

2009-02-25T18:22:00.000-08:00

sleeps oh, so
peacefully.

Limbs. I dislike them. Those things you put yourself on and then they either break...or you're still on a freaking limb. Which is probably where the word limbo comes from.

My head hurts, and when that happens I am either brutally honest or near honesty. On that limb of honesty when you're all "so I think...." but you don't finish it. Or you hint at it, but you still don't finish it. This little box of honesty in my head has been unfinished longer than most boxes regarding people. Which is okay, it's teaching me patience for the possibility of not needing patience. Which is negative, but also good. Enigmatic! Ass.

Balls of ass. My head still hurts. So I'm keeping a mental check on my blog. *Do not go this way, do not go that way.*

Anna Ternheim has lots of songs on myspace, so I've been listening to her for the better part of my awakened period of the day, which is not the better part of the day by any means. So it's a small portion of music.

I hate being alone.
I'm reading Pema Chodron's When Things Fall Apart
I'm copying it in my journal, and I made a Freudian slip...or a happy coincidence that made me start thinking much more. About myself. Anyways, she writes,
"Relax as it is: once we know this instruction, we can put it into practice. Then it is up to us what happens next. Ultimately, it comes down to the question of just how willing we are to lighten up and loosen our grip. How honest do we want to be with ourselves?"

And that's a good message, but what I read from the last sentence was an even deeper question for me.
"How honestly do we want to be with ourselves?"

I sat back, [in the middle of class], and thought about it. I don't want to be with myself at all. I like being around people. But when I'm alone I lose myself. I get sucked into this anxious state of being, where I'm afraid of not being seen. I'm afraid of not influencing others. Not putting my mark on the world...and just...fading away.
Though I'm not sure if this is the real reason, or just the reason I'm telling myself. Or typing on an online blog.
I'm not the most outgoing person in the world, which is okay. I'm also not the most talkative, unless I have something to say. Which is also okay. But I lack a lot of the confidence I used to have. I need to remember that I can take care of myself. That being in Asheville isn't a negative thing just because a lot of my relationships are screwed up now.
I sat down the other night to rationalize it all. Took myself out of the situation. I wrote pages and pages and pages. Of my faults, of my miscalculations. Of my imagination, and of my emotional sensitivity.
The only thing that came of that is that I still feel correct in my stance. And I feel more relieved and comfortable with the removal of people in my life. I feel irritated that I feel things to such an intense degree, but I've been that way my entire life. And I feel like it gives other areas in my life more depth as well.
Growing pains, eh? Or stagnant pains...?
I hate being alone, so I'll be forced to be more social, so I can find people in my life that create a more genuine world lacking mistrust and fake personalities. That feels daunting to me, but I know it's already working.

Okay, end oddness of a blog. I have to pee.

When your eyes wander off desperately
That you never look straight
I enjoy when you hesitate
'Cause I don't mind to wait
Somehow it’s keeping me safe

Does jealousy make any sense in this scenario? No. Not at all.
But still. Balls forever!!
*Okay world, not going that way.*

**** Time for some mother trucking tarot ****

The color of my dreams, would be you...

2009-02-19T20:41:00.001-08:00

ruby

My words are flowing again. In an odd, inspirational and seductive way. Driving for hours up mountains, to music that I couldn't distinguish from my heart beat jump started something in me. Creativity was flung at me, and I find myself dancing with my pen in my hand as opposed to writing now.
I've been filling up pages. Stream of consciousness. Word vomit. Whatever.
I'm happy with myself, I feel sure and secure amidst my chaos. Which is what I've been needing to learn for a long while now. It's not something I've been able to perceive and understand quite yet, but I'm getting there. I'm getting there, and I feel settled.
There were moments of unease. There still are. But I move past them, and everything still exists. Including me. I get surprised easily when I become aware of my surroundings. It always shocks me to see that everything still exists, it's all still in place around me.

I saw a tree yesterday. I saw myself in it, a reflective self-portrait of sorts. It was at the top of a mountain, a rock sat near it spray painted with love. An obvious "parking" spot. But this tree was so disconnected from the rest of it all. Half of it was alive, and half of it was dead. Paradox in a tree. I saw myself there, rooted. One foot in life, one foot in death. And it was healing in some way. Because the tree is still there. It's still physically there. Just like I am. I forget that sometimes. Standing beside it made me queasy. I had trouble breathing and focusing n being atop a mountain. The aftermath was more healing than the presence. I don't know why I got so uncomfortable. The important thing is that I kept going through my discomfort. I allowed it to settle. I didn't ignore it, I just continued.

Hmm, my brain is slowly calming down, and I don't have much more to say.
I suppose it's time for some left over chinese food.

My arms are a bit weak.

2009-02-15T21:16:00.000-08:00

But my heart is smiling and my body is fully awake.

Valentines Day was really delightful. Grape leaves and cookies, a blanket for sitting on the grass, poetry that reaches to my heart, [moves in and never leaves], multiple trips to blockbuster, pasta with chunky tomatoes, and a night that made my dreams mix with reality and left me spinning.

I forgot to be anxious this weekend. I forgot to question my breathing. Instead I focused on yours, and the way you kiss me. The curve of your body, and the way you kicked books and earrings off my bed.

put my eyes out, and i can see you still;
slam my ears to, and i can hear you yet;
and without any feet can go to you;
and tongueless, i can conjure you at will.
break my arms, i shall take hold of you
and grasp you with my heart as with a hand;
arrest my heart, my brain will beat as true;
and if you set this brain of mine afire,
upon my blood i then will carry you.

Rilke will always have my heart. Always. Neruda is beginning to claim it, too. I'm a polygamist for poets.

2009-02-12T07:53:00.000-08:00

I woke up intending to go to class this morning. I really did.
But once I turned around and came back to the room, I sat down on my bed, and I haven't gotten up yet. The past week is hovering over me, and I'm tired. More than just my lack of sleep. I'm worn out. I'm not depressed, I'm just a little heavy.
I don't want to go home this weekend for home. I'm going to see Dot and Stephanie. I'm going to see my sisters, and hopefully avoid the family meeting for as long as possible. And then I'll be back in Asheville waiting for the cycle to start all over again. More of the same waiting.
Which I find isn't a bad thing. I enjoy the anticipation and the butterflies. I think it's worth it.

My blog entries have been so...under the weather, lately. I promise I've got a fire building inside of me, waiting to be released. But for now I have to deal with a few things before I can get there completely. It's there though, which gives me a soft hope.

2009-02-11T23:19:00.000-08:00

notes:
goodbyes.
heart energy.
light waves.
music.
art.
centering.
magick.
. . . fire.

ballz.

2009-02-11T13:10:00.000-08:00

Not May, of course not. In two weeks. Why the hell not?!
Because it's fucking crazy.
I mean...REALLY!?

beinwant.

2009-02-09T22:57:00.000-08:00

Stupid mouth, please shut up.
Your not winning any wars.
I'm the one who's left behind,
Cleaning up the mess you've caused.
. . . . .
With the way you undo me,
Spinning circles in my mind.
. . . . .
You'll never hear the sound.
. . . . .
And I don't think you understand,
How much I want to hold your hand.
And how that scares me more
than anything
I know.

I'm exhausted. It's been a long day.
I got to my car today, ready to drive up the mountain, and got hit with the heat. The rush of misunderstanding. The rush of my mind and heart unzipping their proximity. Anxious and shaky I drove up the winding road only to drift in and out of sleep on my friend's couch until we put in a movie. [The Wrestler is a damn good film, btw.]
The night progressed and I found comfort in company, until it went the opposite direction.
My eyes are heavy, and my fingers are constantly failing my thoughts.
I feel unsatisfied, to the brink of sadness. But I'm okay with that. 'The winter has been hard on all of us.'
Everywhere I turn, I'm greeted with another weary soul. Ready for the creaking and moaning of winter to give way to a healing spring. It's about that time.

My shoulders are tightly wound with the presence of expectation and desire.
Expectations that are made for me that I can't follow through on- -resulting in loss of a general proportion. But that wasn't my decision.

Desire for someone who is far away.

I feel like something is waning, and I don't like it. It just makes me struggle to cover up lost ground. As you step back, I'll step forward. Which isn't the safest idea. But I'm doing it anyways.

I have class tomorrow.

I'm sorry the entries have been so dreary lately, I'm in a period of transition. I can only go up from here. 

Last Minute Trips.....

2009-02-05T22:28:00.000-08:00

I love Charlotte. The drive to get here was more than worth it. As Steph said, there is a lot of love here. I can feel it. In this house, this house that I've been in for less than three hours, I feel at home. I feel so comfortable here. It's so, so much better than the townhouse.
Josie, the new dog is adorable. I fell in love with her immediately. Even though Becca and Laura put her in a silly UNC dog shirt.
I'm exhausted and missing. I've decided to keep my magic at a distance in Asheville. There are more important things to focus on.
Bonfire complete with s'mores on Saturday night once I return. I really adore those boys. I feel at home in their house, too. I'm a really lucky person. I've got a lot of love protecting me.
Coffee with MF was good today, I've missed our friendship.
Nothing too profound, or thought provoking tonight. I just want to express my contentness. Now, I am off to cuddle with the nearest wandering cat and get lovely allergies that will be worth it.

Another countdown...a week, and I'll see her. =)

I feel happy being with myself today. I feel happy with who I am.

Oh. My dad is getting married. Hence the last minute trip to Charlotte. I needed my sisters.
I haven't decided how I feel about it yet. I suppose the emotions will come with time.

As sad as this may seem...I feel more at home in this house than the one back home in Chapel Hill. Not the physicallity of it, just the presence of it. The animals and laughter, the hard work, and normal schedules. I like the structure. And I love my sisters. I still miss the house in the forest, but this house is already taking root in my heart.

Hey there Demetrius

2009-02-04T15:57:00.000-08:00

I miss my home. I miss the trees, the comfort of flat land, and the consistency of comfort that I find there. I miss the farmland and the deer. I miss my father, and I even miss his girlfriend. Strange, I know. But.

I miss being home.

It's so odd to me that chunks of my life have been cut out of my memory. A friend asked me about a birthday party I had when I was 12, when it was snowing, and I couldn't remember. I remembered meeting at a gas station. But I don't remember much more of it. I might only remember the snow because I have access to the sight of it here. I'm on the verge of something, but I don't actually want to get to the end of the destination. Or I'm crazy, which is not a happy alternative.

I've been feeling paranoid today. Wondering if people are sharing looks behind my back, sharing brief words, sharing a sense of 'know' regarding me. I just had a feeling, and it's a feeling that really put me off. It doesn't help that my girl parts hurt like a bitch. Partially because I hit them REALLY hard with a poi ball.

I miss S, a lot. More than I want to admit via the internet. But surprise. Sleeping beside her made me feel...comfortable. I was tired the whole weekend, but there were plenty of reasons that stacked up my exhaustion. Honestly, I don't know. I haven't felt like this in a really long time. I wish I could have access to her...always. Not just sporadic weekends when I drive home, or she drives to Asheville. But I'll be home in two weeks, which I'm actually incredibly excited about.

I miss my best friend. I miss Dot more than anything. I miss the buzz I get when I'm with her. I feel more comfortable with her than almost anyone else in the world, disregarding family. I wish she were a part of my everyday life again, but I know she will be eventually. We've both got a lot of work to do before then, though. I feel like we will reconnect in proximity once we're both settled. You know, when we can walk our dogs and walk with strollers that have little babies in them. *gasp*

I think the most beautiful sensation in the world is the feel of skin against skin. It's intoxicating and addicting and it makes everything negative in the world melt away...drifting to another part of the universe where it can't touch you. I forgot about breathing kisses that provide you with the illusion that two people are in fact one, and it doesn't relate to sex. It's something completely different, but equally as beautiful.

Interlock your fingers with my own...

I feel more...I don't know. I feel a little detached from reality. It happens sometimes, and it isn't as bad as it was last night, but it's still weird. I won't go so far as to say uncomfortable, but it's distracting and annoying. Not so much scary like it used to be. Just ever-changing.

I'm glad classes were cancelled today. I got good rest.

Well, your eyes keep me up all night

2009-02-03T22:24:00.000-08:00

you know they're stranded on my mind.

Listening to Joshua Radin, curled up in bed, and it's hard to keep my eyes open. But I promised a blog, and I'm trying to learn the whole...reliable thing. I think I like it.

Today has been a day of...wandering. Mentally that is. I made it to all of my classes, which I for one am happy about. But I feel like I'm slipping a little bit. I'm not here right now. I am, but I'm tired, I'm tired and my soul is in that place it goes to when it wants to leave, and the rest of me just has to deal for a little bit. Usually a good nights rest does the trick. It used to happen weeks on end. I'm not willing to go back to that place in my mind, or in my being. But I am constantly afraid of going there. Maybe, maybe I need a continuous problem that I have no control over. Maybe in this case I'm cultivating it within me...because the chaos is my own form of stability.

Or maybe I'm just super fucking tired.

Something to re-visit tomorrow. I know, the suspense will kill you, but: skin against skin, how healing and warm it is. Sleeping comfortably, allowing comfort in my sleep, the simplicity company evokes from me, the emotions I haven't felt for awhile.

In other areas: the darkness in me, the memories I run away from because I fear them. The suspicions I hold for something in the universe that will never leave my mind, but I need to feel release from. (Yay abstract healing).

For now, sleep. My goodness. Sleep

I love my roommate.

2009-01-28T21:31:00.000-08:00

Because when I'm anxious or *insertnegativeemotionhere* we put our mattresses down on the floor in the middle of the room and make one big comfy anxious-free bed of covers and stuffed animals.

This is how I'm going to get through this semester.

And yes, I am 20.

Right in this moment

2009-01-28T18:39:00.000-08:00

I told you to be patient
I told you to be fine

In the morning I'll be with you
But it'll be a different kind
I'll be holding all the tickets,
and you'll be holding all
the fines.

I'm tired and I don't have that much to say. But, alas, I promised a blog!
S is coming tomorrow, and I'm not quite sure I believe it. I mean, I believe it. But until I see her set foot on campus I'll think reality is playing tricks on me. One of those painfully amazing "really?" scenarios.
Despite having the makings of a bad day I'm pretty satisfied. Here, in my spinning chair, with Jasmine tea from the hall social. I have some pretty awesome suite mates.
And a tea genius RA who has magical blooming tea flowers that I want to make an art project out of. I suppose when I get the money I can acquire some from target and get started on that. My mainstream tea boxes made me want to bang my head on the table with embarrassment, haha.

I managed to forget an entire week. Amazing I know. Full of Hannah potential this time, guys. I was so set on doing homework early today, and turning it in before friday. BUT. That's not possible. Why? Dear reader, because. Because it was due last friday.
Lab was good today, though I feel as if I drew all of the constellations in existence. And then lecture with MF which was surprisingly pleasant and warm. I'm excited about the zine, I have a lot to choose from regarding submissions. Maybe I'll write something specifically for it. Meh.

Writing isn't doing anything for me presently. So here's something I wrote awhile ago. But I'm feeling it tonight.

Fiebre de la Tierra

My shirt felt like it was melting into my skin. Every inch of my body was drenched with sweat, beads of water dripped down my temples, collecting and falling from my face. I was laying on top of the earth. It smelled damp, my sweat seeping into it. Feeding it. And suddenly, I was freezing.
Leaves holding water caked my forehead. Slimy like fish. They slid off when my skin made them too warm. Then another fish would find its way against my skin. Cold, fresh, renewed.
Women speaking in Shuar stumbled around me, their tones full of earnest worry. Words floated in the air. Words I couldn't understand.
I closed my eyes, the room was too bright. The sun pierced my skin, burning my flesh. It felt like needles, pricking at my cold skin.
I opened them again, saw the moon through the hut window.
Leah, sat beside me, replaced the leaves on my head. My vision was blurry. I made out her silhouette, her full curls momentarily blocking out the moon.
The stench of old chicken made my stomach churn. Heave. I clutched the cool earth underneath me, hoping that soon it would stop spinning.
"Emma, Emma if you can hear me. We are getting you to a doctor soon. You have a very high fever..."
I closed my eyes. Closed my nose, the smell was too much. I heard my brain fizzle. The fever was frying me. I was still so cold.
I opened my eyes. I was on a horse, gripping a wooden saddle with all the strength I could muster. Ahead of me was a Shuar village man. Cut, Cut, Cutting. His machete chopping down the Amazon so we could make a path. The horse drove forward, leaves and branches slapping me. Attacking me with broad strokes. They felt like paddles slamming against my skin. Relentless. One after another.
I looked down, saw Leah walking beside me, holding my leg. I hadn’t noticed the pressure there.
She looked up, smiled grimly at me, and said: “Em, it’s only a little bit longer, stay on the horse for just a while longer.”
I closed my eyes. The rocking of the horse made my stomach churn. Heave. I could feel the bruises growing from the saddle. I thought that if they got too big they would swallow me whole.
I opened my eyes, I was in a bed. In a sterile room. A huge wooden cross hung against the wall in front of me. A blonde woman reached over me, making a cross in the air. There was a rosary flying in front of my face. Jesus was staring at me from his cross. I didn't understand. I thought that if you cut off the top of the cross, all that would remain would be a T. Just another symbol. Although that's all the cross is anyway.
The woman closed her eyes, pressed her hands together.
"Dear Lord, oh merciful one, save this child. Save this child from death. Lead her back into the light of the world. Save her, Lord! Rid her of the devil!"
I laughed, the cold reaching my skin. I pulled up covers, only to find fire spreading over my skin. I was burning, burning. I threw off the white pristine sheets. Closed my eyes, closed my ears. The Lord was not my doctor.
I felt the wind against my face, I was lifted onto a stretcher. Lifted up.
I opened my eyes. I was in Heaven, looking out over the world. Flying up, higher, higher, higher still.
I closed my eyes, the road to Heaven was making me dizzy.

Wild wind, Take me home...

2009-01-24T22:15:00.000-08:00

...to the mists of down below.
I see the rivers flooding strong,
and people wishing they belonged.

So the past 24 hours have been long. They have been long, delicate, surprising, deep, and exhausting. I was around people so like me it felt like I was looking through a mirror, rooted in some connection that drifted around the fire. My art spiraled, gravitating towards a third dimension I haven't seen since high school. It wasn't from me though, it was from something else, something I'm not addressing in my mind. It's too muddy, too complicated, far, far too soon.

Can a kiss from you rinse another from my brain.
Can we wash these floorboards.
Can we wash these walls.

I seem to be repeating old habits. The boys last year, their proximity to one another. Habits, bad habits, dirty rabbits. That's ironically appropriate.

For now, I'm concentrating on the approaching weekend. My inability to be patient has been crawling up and down my spine since I left home. I respond with what I'm given, so I won't write too much about this.

I need to gain weight. It can't just be a goal anymore, it simply needs to happen. I don't like looking this skinny, in all honesty. I want the weight I had at the beginning of last semester. I'll fight my medication that reduces appetite, and I'll just walk around full constantly. It's a plan! God, that won't be good for digestion. I can foresee that. It's necessary though.

Charlotte today was amazing. Michael tagged along, driving the two of us there and back. I felt at ease, being in the passenger seat. Sleeping off and on, listening to Alan Watts talk about a 'wiggly world.' My family was beautiful today. My sisters are moving into a heart home of their own, with large windows and rooms with nautical themes. Today was full of a sleepy inspiration from my family. And then swinging by Michael's, spending time with his mom who loaded us up with food to bring back to Asheville. She made me feel at home. I wanted to stay and flip through their collection of CD's. Or just sit on the red recliner and listen to the folk music blasting from the stereo.

Anyhow. I could ramble happily forever, but I'm going to watch a movie with miss Juice, and eat some popcorn chicken. Full of yummy chicken fat!!! Yessss.

Stand up, sit down, baby.

2009-01-22T14:45:00.000-08:00

The last few days have been building up, building around me. I've got my fever back. My rage of a fever. Not sickness, but fire. Anger, frustration void of apathy.
I want to smoke a cigarette and I don't even smoke. I'm craving a parliament. It's the only kind of cigarette I can smoke. Primarily because I inhaled enough second hand smoke from that brand a year and a half ago.
I'm exhausted, from my own doing. But I always welcome self progressing conversation that doesn't involve chatting.

I need my own space...somewhere. I feel tightly wound in my own room. Tightly wound and incapable of expressing myself. Which makes being a relative hermit difficult because I need a place to retreat to, where I won't be judged.
As much as it may not seem like it, I am 100% capable of taking care of myself. I don't need to lean on anyone else. People go through stages, and I can guarantee, if you understood why I got to where I was last semester, the place I am getting myself away from, you would have about 5% of the strength I have. I can't help that some days I want to stay in bed.

I feel like I'm here. But I feel like some of my friends are a bit...distant to say the least.

My computer is getting fixed. Thank god. I miss finding new music.

In other news, Psychology is going splendidly. Hooray for amazing people in classes. This semester is still covered in mystery, and I wonder where it will end up taking me. Whenever life gets clouded like this (in a positive sense), usually the things I least expect to happen, happen.

Snow soon! [Snow now]

2009-01-19T11:42:00.000-08:00

According to Avalon's handy dandy personal meteorologist, we will get snow today!

[........]

He was right, I looked up from my bed to see beautiful snowflakes streaming past the window. They are falling faster now, slanting to the left. Every once in awhile it lightens up, and the wind carries the snow upwards, and then back down again. I can almost feel that light, defying gravity, taking my sweet and precious time to drift to the ground.

I finished a book I didn't like this morning. It was just...bad. Some of the sentences were really good. But all-in-all it was pretty terrible.

I hope I never publish something that bad.

Speaking of writing. My writing has gotten incredibly sloppy lately. I guess it follows my mind in that regard. Which isn't bad, just strange and unwound. Something unfamiliar to me.

Seeing snow makes me feel colder than I really am. Curled under my comforter in my usual sleeping attire, I want to get up and not be so sleepy. I think that's all it takes anyways. Shower. Walk. Go to the Brew and View.

Time to move. I'm not staying in bed today. Shower!

I slept like pooh last night though. Got in bed around 12 30, and didn't sleep until the sun came up. I feel pretty alright though, so woot.

Planet Earth

2009-01-17T18:38:00.000-08:00

I feel weary. I slept for 10 hours last night but still woke up exhausted, barely able to climb out of bed. Sometimes I feel too fragile.
Buying jeans today was miserable. I got a lot of 'looks.' The holyfuckyourskinny look. It put me into a bit of a funk, and then I got sick again. I retreated back to my dorm room, making Michael come see me. I feel so...tired. I haven't gotten true rest for a long time. I think that might be due to my medication. But I would give almost anything to feel rested.

Watching Planet Earth makes me feel weird. Surreal. I would hate to be a fish. The world would be much more cruel and unforgiving. Granted I wouldn't be conscious of it, but still.

Two things I get easily frustrated about: I'm a homebody, and I'm gentle. Usually I'm okay with it. But I am easily influenced, and can be a pushover when it comes to defending myself or my emotions. Yay.

My thoughts are not very cohesive in my brain presently. Which makes writing difficult.

We've all got masks...

2009-01-12T17:45:00.000-08:00

...but they still surprise me.

Friday night was good for me. It knocked down a lot of walls that I needed to part with. The night left me feeling more rested and a little more whole than I've felt in a long time. People are meant to be close, it's healing. I didn't sleep much that night, but the sleep I got was deep and full of rest. I haven't slept as well since then. But, I've always slept better with other people.

As for Asheville...I don't know. Today has been shit. I kept waking up at night, and finally dragged myself out of bed around 1. Got food. Got food poisoning. Slept for about 4 hours.
Went to Michael's, got treated like shit.
Got back to the dorm and found out some really wretched information.
I've been relatively mute since then.

The day hasn't been all bad. Sleeping was good. Texting was good. Also 4 hours away, but good.
And I think I'll drive around for a bit later. I wish the parkway was open.

I've got a weird aching in my chest that is really deep and won't leave me alone.
I miss, I miss, I miss.

End slightly depressing blog.

EditationNation----------------

So at the end of a long day, things have worked themselves out like they usually do.
I can't find my walls, though. And that's a very positive thing for me right now. I don't feel settled quite yet, but I know I will soon. Especially after someone visits me and brings me a sweatshirt. Hooray? Hooray.
I spent most of my night texting two really swell people who both have an amazing ability to make me feel better about almost anything.

I don't like how my writing feels tonight, but I figured I would update on my mood, since it is better than it was earlier.

Another hilarious conversation with my father.

2009-01-08T12:42:00.000-08:00

"I want to live in a big southern house, with a big porch. I want to have goats and make goats milk, soap and cheese. I guess I want to have kids. I want to have a big garden. I want to be settled. And I want to have it all with him. That's a part of my goal in life."
"Well. You should probably find out if he's gay. Or if he is just screwed up, like you!"
"....Thanks, Dad."

On a side note. Two people that always make me smile include: My father, without fail. And that delightful chica who is always awake when I am. And always, always willing to offer me the words that I need. Plus, she's comfortable to sleep on.

Denied emotions- -suck a dick.

2009-01-08T01:09:00.000-08:00

I drained myself of positivity today. Sometimes that happens when I let people get under my skin, and things start going in a direction that makes me feel...useless to myself. Why is it impossible for me to just say what I want to say?
Because I'm afraid of rejection, I'm afraid of being walked away from for the zillionth time.
I know, I know. Death isn't someone walking away from you. But goddamnit am I tired of people dying. Because it makes me cling to the living too hard, which inevitably hurts as well.

I'm afraid I'm not ready for school. I'm really afraid I'll have to leave again.

I don't feel settled in my skin. I walk around comparing my thoughts to other people, and I wonder if I fit in as a fundamental person. How odd is that? I have a never ending feeling of being unsettled.

My eyes are heavy, and this entry will only go downhill from here. Sleep.

last.fm is saving my life.

2009-01-07T19:04:00.000-08:00

i was wondering

if you could maybe, darling

think.

I lied. I miss the sex. This is my honest day. I just miss the good kind, though.

Anyways, I thought honesty was important, but moving on.

"The stone mason does all the work.

I just want to drink me some wine.

As soon as you're born you start dying,

so you might as well

have a good time.

Sheep go to heaven

and goats got to hell."

Party on friday. I'm pretty excited, I know that only loveable kids are coming.

Or maybe not, most of my friends are about as reliable as I am. We're a capricious bunch.

I've been thinking a lot about the state of knowledge that occupies my mind. I feel it tugging, wanting to expand. And I haven't felt this way in a really long time. It terrifies me, leaves me breathless and wanting.

I'm dreaming in real life again. My dreams last night were real, they had to be. I felt so, so unbelievable tangible in my dreams. The waves, the bodies, the competitions, and the storms.

I just finished reading a really gentle (kind of) book, that left me believing in magic and that happiness prevails. That love is entirely possible, and that kissing in fact SHOULD make you unable to stand. Or, maybe I'm just a romantic sap that will never be satisfied in life because my head is too far up my candy coated ass.

I would like to think the former. That true love is really fucking glorious. Which means I haven't experienced it yet. I want my experience of love to be a sick joke. And that waiting patiently out there for me is a healthy, beautiful, fire-making, soul-dancing love. I know it exists. I can feel it in my bones. I just have to let it greet me. And I have to let myself be pulled in.

The book gave me a little more faith in that regard too. One of the main characters was 34 and had never experienced the lightness of being a teenager in love. But she recreates it. She fights it forever, and then wakes up one morning and just...gives in to life. And I think that's me. I keep everyone about an arms length away at all times. Sure I'll have a mind blowing mental connection with you, but you can't have sex with me. Or I'll have sex with you but I won't open up my heart to you. It's no longer an either/or situation for me. I am ready to actually let people in. And I am ready to let myself in, which is so much more important.

I might post more later, but for now I feel like dancing.

Don't mind saying...

2009-01-03T13:49:00.000-08:00

I'll sing you songs of dreams I used to dream.

How do I know if you're feeling the same as me?

Give me a stage and I'll be your rock and roll queen.

And how do I know if that's the only place you want to be?

I haven't had sex since August. I used to think that was only a short time ago, but now that I actually think about it...I can't say that it was 'last month' anymore. Ironically, I don't miss the sex. I miss waking up beside someone. I miss confusing the end of my body and the beginning of someone else's, simply because I'm being hugged so tightly. I don't define myself by other people, I just miss feeling cherished. I miss being affectionate, I guess.

Mainly because of my own conscious decisions. I used to be relatively affectionate with my friends, and I still am with the ones I feel completely safe with, or if I feel like there is NO possibilty for confusion. After this past semester I made the decision to be affectionate only with the person I'm dating, and with people like Em and Juice who are nurturing and happy. I haven't really been open about why I left school, and I'm not about to be on an open blog (lol). It wasn't just one thing, it was many. And the tip of the iceberg just so happened to be a chauvanistic pig. Nothing devastating happened. Well, it made me see things a little differently about a close friend. But that is well and in the past, like most things.

So I misused the phrase earlier. I'm not ready to make nice in THIS situation. I'm still mad as hell, sabes? I'm mad about a lot of things, that I'm sure will come up at some point in the next month or so, but I still need to work things out in my head before I communicate externally.

I'm wandering away from my point. So returning to this aspect of 'missing,' it's more settled than it has ever been. I am not going to run out and jump at the first chance I get. But, I'm also not going to jeopardize myself anymore. I have passed up SO many opportunities because I put up my million dollar walls and walk away. I'm not going to do that anymore, but I'm also not going to trust people as easily. I know it seems contradictory, but it's not in my head. I'm just going to trust the right people.

A side note: THEY TALK TOO MUCH.

Muddy Head.

2009-01-03T11:55:00.000-08:00

My head is congested, and my nose won't stop sniffling.
I'm exhausted from too much sleep, and I'm a step away from my senses today. I'm curled up in that part of my heart, which makes everything I experience have a strange sort of lag.

My brain is fuzzy and empty, so I'll leave you with the knewly acquired knowledge that for my birthday it will pleasantly be me, my father, and my father's girlfriend. Note my dripping sarcasm.

A friends mother recently told me that she was on Ann's side. I bit my tongue and nodded, because regardless of what I wanted to say, she wouldn't hear it. And I know she only said that because all those years ago she was in Ann's shoes. I could tell it was more about her situation than my situation, so I just ignored it. Plus, it isn't really about sides. It's simply about the fact that I miss my mother. Sure there are sides to this scenario, but there are many more than 2. There are probably over a hundred. The car ride was too short to even begin to explain it to her though, and I didn't really want to.

I'm not sure I'm ready to go back to school. I'm going back, but I don't know if I'm ready to. I feel like a freshman again, jumping into an unkown land.
I would rather spend my time writing my novel and exploring the characters.

Time to do something productive.
I want to feel settled. I have to learn to feel settled in the middle of chaos. I AM learning it, but it's strange to grasp the concept that the ground has no center, that the ground is not in fact the ground.

I'm ready to be back in asheville.

Hahah

2008-12-30T14:16:00.000-08:00

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

Hey baby, lets dance.

2008-12-30T09:19:00.001-08:00

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.

2008-12-26T13:50:00.000-08:00

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.

2008-12-22T17:14:00.000-08:00

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.

Hypochondria ftl.

2008-12-20T13:12:00.000-08:00

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.

2008-12-20T10:30:00.000-08:00

"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.

2008-12-17T12:47:00.000-08:00

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.

2008-12-05T11:31:00.000-08:00

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.

2008-12-03T20:03:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-03T10:52:00.000-08:00

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.

Kick me in the foot.

2008-12-02T12:13:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-01T19:41:00.000-08:00

"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.

2008-11-28T22:14:00.000-08:00

"You're better gradually,

and then suddenly."

I have spent a lot of my time second guessing my own senses. My sight, my hearing, my ability to smell. Sometimes I would think, when life got to be a bit too much, 'maybe, in this instant, or perhaps the next, my sensing will cease to exist. what I'm looking at, it just won't be there anymore.'

I still do that sometimes, but there is more security in it now. Watching the movie tonight, I saw the image, and I wondered if perhaps it would no longer continue if I kept my focus too long. But, I kept my focus, and it stayed. It was concrete. I've been looking for security in external things. People, apartments, cities, schools. But it's in me, simply because I keep continuing in this moment. I am forever aware, and as overwhelming as that can be, it's better than releasing that awareness into a state of apathy, or autopilot, or perhaps even death. Granted, who's to say we don't continue awareness, in some form or another.

I've stopped being so shadowed by death lately. Even with the potential liver cancer in Abby. I refuse to contemplate the idea of anyone dying again. It just messes with my head, it makes me curl into my mind and refuse to connect.

I can't live like that anymore though. I can't imagine the diseases myself or my loved ones are harboring anymore, because I've already lost too much. It's like, why go through the potential, and false grief of something that isn't even known? If I find out something terrible like that, I'll deal then. Not now.

I can't walk on egg shells anymore, waiting for the next traumatic experience. It will happen eventually, I know. We all share the capacity and assurance of death. And loss, and love and so forth. So. I need to start living in a way that doesn't expect anything, and doesn't create realities that don't exist so I can potentially prepare for them. There is no preparation.

I'm starting to feel more at home in my body. I walk around stores and theaters and coffee shops and find myself feeling like I'm at home. And all along it's just my wandering around in my own skin. Taking all I truly have with me.

Seeing the family has been good. Hectic at times, aggravating during others. Regardless of how much of my indian food they eat, or how many times the bang on my door, or get sad during 'family' meetings, I know.Truly.know how lucky I am to have the family that I do.

Laura with her humor and strength and inability to respect claimed food, Becca with her generosity and playfulness, and Pa with his chipper nature, content with the life he leads and remaining an optimist through everything. And they are all in MY life, how did I manage that? How did I manage to get born into such an unbelievably loving and whacked out family? We have our flaws, and lord knows we have drama, but we love each other. I know each of them would go to the end of the world for me, even if they ate my chicken saag the entire way.

Anyways, benadryl should be making me tired anytime now, so I think I'll head out now that I've still got a clear and groggy free head.

Hmm. I guess this is my thanksgiving post, eh?

AND PS - -

My dream last night was slightly ridiculous, but equally amazing.

For starters I was back on campus and had some baller suite-mates. Who were guys, and one Jules was dating. There were like 4 of them though. And I saw Lily and Elias there, and I bought icecream and bubble tea?? With the weird tapioca things in them.

Then I was randomly at Michael's and that guy was there, and we ran into each other, or I ran into his hat (but as far as I know, he doesn't wear hats?!) and we ended up having an amazing amount of chemistry (which I already feel in real life, holler.)/instantly dating and he had really nice shoulders.

And then everyone from campus (the guys + jules + her bf + my loverrr + some with girl) went to a girls house where there were spirits trapped in jars which someone released and then they started inhabiting people, and my sister was one of the spirits?

So then we went on this long excursion of gathering the spirits back together.

Huzzah!

And I think the night before had the purple bubbly liquid drug that made people...uhm, happy?

I love dreams. I do, I do.

Thunderstorms

2008-11-24T22:02:00.000-08:00

You treat me like

like these thunderstorms

I know that I've been bad

I've been inconsistent

I keep changin how I feel

but you can't ask this rain

to be persistent.

So. I've found that I have this unnatural talent for letting opportunities walk past me. Generally speaking, this refers to people, but it can pertain loosely to things like jobs and projects and such.

I've missed more than one good opportunity. I psyche myself out, I get claustrophobic in my own mind, and then I convince myself I might make the wrong decision. It's always about decisions with me. It's like everything has to be perfect before I become decisive. Or at least that is how it's been in the past. I feel like as I get older I'm growing out of that. For the first time in my life I feel ready to commit to something. I want stability and security. I know that might be odd at my age, but it's something I actually need right now. I need an anchor, I need sure ground to plunge my roots into.

It's so strange to be in this place. The space my mind takes up is so far from where I thought I would be. Four years ago I would have anticipated being rowdy. I would have still been the biggest flirt on the block, I would have a false sense of pride, and I would probably spend more time drinking than not. But now, the course of my life has taken me down an unfamiliar road. I've become the exact opposite of who I once was.

I flirt, but in a genuine, I like you way. It gets me into even deeper trouble than my innocent flirting used to. My pride is shaky at best, but it's building itself back up. I don't like drinking, and I don't like drugs. I like the security of controlling my reality. Simply because I can. Actually, I like getting tipsy. I love rolling around on the floor when alcohol is stinging my blood and my mind can only form happy thoughts. I just don't like getting raging-blind drunk. No thank you. I'l take my couple of beers, and my lightweight demeanor, and I'll be on my way.

Anyways. The point is that where I am is not where I thought I would be. Though it's not a bad place, per se. My dad thinks my awareness is a gift. Most of the time, lately, it's felt more like a burden. But. Such is life.

My empathy will always be a part of who I am. And that just makes life deeper.

I need to sleep.

So many words.

My Father is...Interesting.

2008-11-24T15:23:00.000-08:00

Me: "So, dad. I like 2 guys."

Pa: "Okay."

Me: "...Curious much?"

Pa: "Oh, sure."

Me: "Fair warning, they are both closer to Becca's age than mine."

Pa: *laughs* "Am I supposed to say you can't date older men?"

Me: "I was just letting you know. In case by any chance I ever potentially ever maybe possibly start dating one."

Pa: "Oh, you can't date older men."

Me: *laughs*

Pa: "Yeah, do they have jobs?"

Me: "Yes..."

Pa: "Can they support you?"

Me: "Uhm, not that that matters. I can support myself."

Pa: "HAHAHAH. Yeah right."

And that was the end of that conversation.

I love my father dearly. But I swear, sometimes I forget he's supposed to be my Dad. The world works in wonderfully mysterious ways.

Or maybe God decided it was time to start dishing me large doses of daily irony.

What the fuck is up with my alliteration tonight?

Meh.

New beginnings.

2008-11-23T21:25:00.000-08:00

I haven't been writing as much as I should. I find I'm getting better at living in the world, and not so much in my head. Or maybe I've just found a secure balance between the two.

I find myself drawn to people I hardly know, though. I create stories in my head, making them a secure part of my world...and then watching them walk past me.

Spending time in Asheville has put my world slightly back into perspective. Not that it has ever been in any sort of secure perspective, really. But, I'm forever changing. I understand that.

Going back almost didn't happen. My world at home is so isolated, so drastically calm. I wasn't sure I was ready to jump into a world of numerous connections, if even for a weekend. But I went. You're only living when there is discomfort, si? I find staying comfortable is like remaining idle. It doesn't allow room for growth. It's been good for me until now. Now my world is changing in ways that are beyond my control, so I'm taking control where I can.

I know now that I came home for a stronger reason than I'd anticipated. My father is head over heals for a woman who is half french and has a sing-song voice. And come January, she will be filling my home with her voice permanently. Something in me knew my past would never accumulate to the future I so desperately want at home. So I came back, if just to spend time with my father before he settles down into a new stretch of his own living. As hard as I try, the security in me that died when my mom died, will not come back. So I will adjust. I will find new security. It's just depressing to know that the security won't be in these walls anymore. This may be the last chance I get to live here without one foot out the door, ready to go back to another home. It will be strange. It's been the two of us for over 2 years now. And it's overwhelming to be forced into a new way of living at home. We'll see. I hold no expectations. I have my sisters. Regardless of where we are in the world, I'll have my sisters.

I'm trying to remain optimistic, if purely for my Dad's sake. But I don't know how well I'll deal with this. I guess only time will tell. Not that time is reliable. I've always needed roots. And now my roots aren't connected to anything in particular. Once I had a family full of aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents. And it's not a feeling that wears off very well. I know how permanent it felt. And I took it for granted. But I'll just have to find it within me.

I'm getting in touch with my strength again. It's been here all along, I've just been ignoring it. I'm also getting in touch with my magic. I forgot how much I held inside me.

Mm, I have many more thoughts. But it's time to fall asleep to flute songs, rain and thunder.