Sunday, January 30, 2011

I should be sleeping

At some point, I'm sure, the twenty-ninth of any month won't make me sigh and think about time.  At some point, knowing me, we've years of sighing left.

Sometimes I don't know what to do besides keep on breathing, breath after breath, because that's all I know how to do.  But even when I think too hard about that, it becomes a struggle of the highest degree.

I don't know how to live this life.  I feel like I'm wasting every second.

I want to find some beautiful place to get lost, to run away merely for the sake of seeing if anyone would follow me.  Is it destructive to want to feel like someone needs you?

Sometimes I pretend that you're sitting next to me to see how it affects how I live my life.

I'm waiting for this day:

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Occasionally, I rhyme:

Never have I known a distance so acutely,
Never before realized the definition of alone.
Plugged in, staring down at backlit screens,
Gifting silence to a “hi” when you come home.
Empty doesn’t always correspond with emptiness
Because this room is empty, though it’s full.
I can’t explain in sense what makes my heart catch,
Some fear for an eternity built of this lull.
Because, really, what is hell but lifelong silence
When others are close enough to share a word?
But, instead of utilizing vocal chords,
We’ll all stare down at processed little worlds.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Nested Sets of Hypotheticals

It's not enough to exchange nice words, encouraging sentiments, and I love yous without living real life together.  But can we live real life together when this country is stretching itself between us?

It's not enough to flee from problems, to pack up a bag and sprint, whether up hill or down, leaving a mug of tea steaming on the table, forgotten.  But how do you stay when the urge to run threatens you with its force?

It's not enough to pretend to live, to surround yourself with people and music, noise and books, laughter and hugs, when you don't really know anyone or are known by anyone.  But how do you settle and deepen and cut things out, narrowing your view, when there is so much you want to see, hear, and taste?

I know it's not enough and that's why I panic.

It's a funny thing, panic.  It's effects are long-lasting, that shaky uncertainty of forgetting everything, failing everyone, certain helplessness to do anything.  As you try (and beg) to talk yourself down off that ledge of your heart beating so fast surely you're going to die, of too much breath (too much life) that you're killing yourself, nothing makes it ok except the passage of time, of watching the minutes tick past and knowing that this too will pass.  Funny when the cause and the cure are the same.

Maybe that's why I run, because being somewhere new gives the illusion of time going faster, going slower, not existing.  It's a chance to step outside my existence of expectations and supposed to bes and actually be; to breathe, not too little and not too much, but enough to keep the seconds, pulse-like, ticking.

Monday, January 17, 2011


Because everybody should be proud of what they’re good at but sometimes that’s a challenge which is what Mom calls things that are hard to do and you might have to hear someone else say they’re proud of you before you can be proud of yourself even if it’s just a stranger who sent you a postcard by mistake.

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Also, a picture of books

The phrase "don't take this the wrong way, but" should never be used.

Monday, January 10, 2011

The right words

My dear,

I want to change the world with the right words. I want to confess my love to you with the right words. I want to nurture a life with the right words.

I have the right ideas, but my words are too… complicated. I need to simplify them, so that people won’t get lost in the dark when they see and hear them. I want them to shine like beacons of light in a world of overly complicated darkness.

One day I will find the right words, and they will be simple.

Truly yours,
Jean-Louis “Jack” Kerouac
I want this, too.

Saturday, January 8, 2011

I feel infinite

Two completely unrelated things.


Sometimes I am surprised at the unquenchable urge I have to run away from everything, if only for a few hours.  I want to be surrounded by strangers who don't care if I'm me or I'm not, who are not hard to love.  This probably stems from laziness, from my own pettiness that is always leading to annoyance with those aound me.  Because it's easier to imediately love or hate someone new than to sustain a faithful relationship over years once you start to know someone and they think they know you.

It's funny, isn't it, the way we see ourselves in regards to other people?  Because while everyone else is a bottomless pit of "oh my god, will you please stop doing that," we are this shining beacon of all that is beautiful (and never obnoxious at all) in the world.  If only the rest of humanity could be as gifted, such a blessing, as we are.  Wouldn't the earth be such a lovely place to dwell?

Silly and false, I know.  If I interacted with other people who were only like me, some serious shit would go down.  It would be so awful.  I just need to work on being more patient, and not mutter Spanish or obscenities under my breath whenever I'm annoyed by someone close to me.  Because I do have the ability to up and get over myself and actually love people.  I promise.  But sometimes it's easier (and more fun) to be a small person and dwell on how great it all would be were everyone to just take notes and attempt to live exactly as I do.


I finished reading The Perks of being a Wallflower last night just before we went over to celebrate Candice's birthday.  It was amazing.  It's one of those books that I wish I had written.  Charlie is such a lovable, unique, real character.  There is so much weight and worth in his story.
So, I guess we are who we are for a lot of reasons.  And maybe we'll never know most of them.  But even if we don't have the power to choose where we come from, we can still choose where we will go from there.  We can still do things.  And we can try to feel okay about them.

Monday, January 3, 2011

Seven Thoughts

  1. Sit and breathe and wait.  Sometimes my mind goes crazy trying to work out all the things I need to do when really the only thing I need to do is sit and breathe and wait.  Sit, looking out at trees that will once again be green, just give them a few months' time (we're all allowed our seasons).  Breathe, because that one's required for living and if you take enough deep breaths you'll be able to keep calm and carry on.  Wait, because time always goes the same speed and there will be moments (so much sooner than you'd like to admit) when you'll be begging the seconds to slow so appreciate this moment now.
  2. There is a certain giddy laughter that almost always accompanies the admittance of not knowing the answers to anything, this flood of certain freedom about an uncertain future threatening to up and drown the asker.  But you keep it bottled, with a cheeky, knowing smile and go on your merry way.
  3. Sometimes I don't like noise, and then I think, "What utter bullshit, you who would have music blasting at all opportunities if granted control of the universe (and amazing music at that), you who does not do well with silence (there has to be some sort of rustling - cue endless internal gabbing), you who merely has a problem with outside noise, with other people noise, with anything you yourself cannot control because you have a pathological desire to control everything!" and then I say, "Can you keep it down?" to my criticism of myself, "I'm trying to listen to the cars go by."
  4. These pages are a good size because I can fill them quickly with little blue words and feel as though I've accomplished something grand with my life.  I'll just be waiting over here for my trophy.
  5. Some of the funniest moments are when I scare myself.  I feel like my cat.
  6. I honestly think, somewhere deep (deep) down, beneath all the yammering and secret desire for all attention to be always and only on me, that I could be perfectly content never having another soul read my writing for the pure and simple reason that I am so entirely entertained by it myself (says she while plotting to post this on the interwebs for others to read and fawn over and give this genius the recognition it obviously deserves).
  7. I miss you.  I can't wait to see you.