thoughts for the new year

Everytime I sit down to type, I don't feel like it anymore.

But I thought I would make an effort while I'm ripping CDs.

I haven't been very happy lately. I've been terribly short-tempered, particularly toward my mom who seems to want so badly to just hang out with me. Isn't it always the case that we hurt the ones we love most? It must be some strange way of punishing ourselves. That way, I can hate myself more for being such a bitch.

I extend my meanness toward my dad, who doesn't usually get the brunt of anything because he's such a quiet man. I do this because I don't want to let my mom feel that anyone escapes my bad mood---in a twisted way, I do this to be fair.

I've been watching more movies lately and immersing myself in books. I'm looking for words of wisdom; something to get me out of this mess.

I watched Garden State last night, and the main character began to feel again after coming off medication. The trouble is, that I'm not on medication, but I have felt numb for months now. The worst part, which is, perhaps, I can't tell, different from being medicated, is that I can feel my numbness.

I've lost a passion for many things. Nothing makes me happy or smile for any extended period of time. I know that I don't want to kill myself, but sometimes, I think that that's where that whole kind of thing starts. I wonder how it is people get that way. I have a family and friends who love me and look out for me, but a lot of the time, I feel lonely.

I sound depressed, don't I? Maybe I should be medicated. But, in truth, I haven't lost hope that I can get myself out of this. Nothing I've been through is so terrible that I can't get through it.

And there I go again. Mom interrupted me and I snapped at her. I could have just said I need a half hour. Fuck!

I watched Conan and that made me laugh. Watched Last Samurai...ICK! But, there was beauty in some scenes. Unfortunately, beauty that I don't feel is mine; that doesn't stick with me anymore.

How weak am I that I am like this without anything to blame it on?...no death, no abuse, no physical pain...What should happen to me if something bad does happen? I used to be called brave and strong. I'm neither of those things now.

I'm trying my best stop this and leave it behind for the new year. At midnight, I will toast to my family. I will hug them and kiss them and mean every act. And then there will be no special phone call to greet me, nor will there be anyone for me to call.

Everything is temporary. But I want so much for something to mean something that doesn't have to have meaning.

I want my job to have meaning. I want something to be mine. I want to believe in the good I do for all those people that I help, though in usually small ways, everyday. But it's like I don't have the conviction to believe in what I do for them. I really need this "strength of conviction" that I seem to have lost somehow.

Is it in the loss of independence? I do feel trapped. As though this is it. I've barely started my new job and already I know it's not my place. But that place I want to be seems so distant. I don't have the money to pursue my own dreams. At the same time, I know that I have never invested ALL that I could in its pursuit. The stupid part is that I know part of the reason I didn't is to be with someone I loved. And here again, I find myself waiting.

Is this bad for me? Which route will I regret more? Will it ever all come together?

Maybe I'm afraid of commitment. In a grander sense. I wait for a natural solution to things without risking all of me. Maybe my life has just been a series of half-starts. I may say this is because I don't want to close any doors, but perhaps it is that I don't want to blame myself if any door locks behind me.

And suddenly, I'm not so sure what to do. I'm in this bland world all by myself and I don't know what to do with it. I want to get out. I know that I have the power to do this. Only I can change my own view.

I'm fully aware that my life is too short to be spent in sadness. I can make every future second count for something, even if it is just to make someone else smile.

I loved that line from the play, Time of Your Life: "In the time of your life, live, so that in that sweet time there shall be no death for you or for any life your life touches."

I didn't know then how difficult it would be to live by that.

What I don't understand is why this weakness in me is manifesting itself now. Well, I have a theory. It's because I've been separated from someone I loved dearly. And now that there isn't someone immediately there to fill the void, I find myself having to deal with everything on my own.

In truth, I haven't been on my own in a long time. A relationship that lasted almost five years WILL have its impact.

I have prayed for many things. My deepest wish, though I'm not sure that I have prayed for this, is that I learn to be happy on my own. I know, deep down, that this is the only way in which I can be strong again. It's only when I'm whole and know what to do with myself that I'll be able to love life, my family, my friends, other people, completely again.

I'm fighting everyday. It seems such a crybaby problem when people are dying and are experiencing tragedies so much greater than this.

But I wonder whether a personal tragedy, though small, might not be so great as a tsunami, an earthquake. I've never been one to believe that one's problems may be compared to another's. I've always been careful to remember that each person carries his/her own background and set of influences that compound one's reaction to a difficulty.

But, it's a new year. There is the possibility for good that comes with every second, and with it, the possibility for love and beauty. EVERY SECOND!! If I can smile in the next second, it's my duty to try.

It's just so hard right now. But I promise to try.

merry whateveritisthatyoucelebrate!

I celebrate Christmas. It's been up and down for me. I never used to be one to ascribe to the belief that the holidays are difficult. But here I am! I've joined the club.

Whatshisname and I are still good friends. He calls me, we hang out. I don't know exactly where this is going or if it'll go anywhere. You'd think it would be simple now. Boy meets girl, they like each other and give it a shot. Boys and girls, do not become friends with someone you could fall for, that is, if you can help it.

Anyway, as punishment for my being a coward and having someone else do the talking for me, I don't know what exactly was said during "the conversation" and 2 tellings of the story brought up different connotations.

That he likes me is still certain. He's been thinking of asking me out for as long as he has known me, pretty much. Those are the only things I am certain about. Is he still not sure about jumping into a relationship? Was that just my friend's interpretation? Or was that the reason he gave for not acting so far? Meaning that he's getting there.

Some friends say that I may not want to wait around, wasting my time. I'm not sure whether I want to give it up just yet.

There is one thing I know for sure. I want to feel whole again. I want to feel happy and absorbed in the things I do. I want to look up at the sky more and feel delight at that shade of blue. I want to be carried away by books and music like I once was. I want this dark hole that's in me and that keeps making itself felt when my mind finally clears of thoughts to be filled with happiness again.

And, since that's the only thing I can be sure of. I'll have to go with that.

here i am again

I find myself in that same emotional slump that I fall into almost every night. Tonight I feel it more acutely.

I just don't know what to do about him.

What is it that he's waiting for? Are his actions a way to make up for not being able to date me? Or are they a way of feeling out the situation, letting me know that he's trying to better himself so that one day we can be together?

I don't know which it is. I don't know what to do. He is incredibly important to me. And if I destroy anything, I couldn't ever forgive myself. I want to decide to just let this lie. To forget about it. Don't they say that if someone doesn't jump at the chance to have a relationship with you, it means they're just not interested in that way? Are there ever really any exceptions to that?

Maybe I'm being stupid. Maybe it's crazy for me to even hope. What should I do? Talk to him about it. What, so that I can just get my heart trampled on? That must be what I believe to be the truth---that he simply doesn't want this. Otherwise, won't I have a more positive outlook? Wouldn't I take the care he seems to have shown toward me to mean something hopeful? Or am I just protecting myself by thinking negatively?

I no longer know. I have reached the end of my ability to decipher anything to do with this.

First and foremost, we are friends. But I find myself wondering whether to even call him or ask him to go out; just in case it brings on a conversation in which he makes it clear that this means nothing more to him than friendship.

But he has asked me to do stuff. But again, is it simply because he feels bad that he can't give me what I want? Or is it because he's showing me he likes me but needs time to work things out?

I'm so scared that in the time it takes for us to get to where I would like us to be, someone else will find her way into his heart. I'm so scared of that. Because I know how much it will hurt.

Above all, though, I want to remain his friend. But what do you do when it's so hard to be that? I'm afraid of losing that most of all.

So I need to come to a decision. Maybe I just need to let go. To stop thinking about this. I've made that decision repeatedly, and everytime, he does something that gives me hope. But again, maybe that's just friendship.

I need to just be his friend. It's just so hard. I'm suppressing feelings that, at the end of the night, make me cry.

Maybe I'm just too fragile for all of this right now? Maybe all this is too soon? But I want to be ready soon. I don't want to turn my head and find that it's too late. Time has already robbed me of too much and has hurt me too much.

I feel so frustrated, and so alone.

i want a day off

Sometimes, I want to get sick just so that I can get a day off and not have to lie about it.

I feel like I've written that already. I probably have already told someone that already.

And sometimes I wish I could break out of my normal, more silent nature to let the important people (ok, him) know that what they so admire in others lies within me too. That all the admirable miniatures glimpsed in others' words have been thought by my own mind before. That I, too, see things in my own unique way. That perhaps I, too, have written things that would surprise and impress and ring true.

But I can't. If I revealed all it would be for the wrong reasons, as if to say, "See, see, I can do that too. In fact I've done it before. Hey, hey, you! Look here!" It's so pathetic.

Sometimes I wonder what those closest to me would think of what I write here.

and yet i am still single

So the thing is, the reason I know he likes me is because a friend spoke to him about it. I was scared shitless. I figured he would think, 'awww...poor odd, she likes me and i don't like her. but that's ok, we're still friends.'

It turns out, he has liked me for as long as I've liked him. The problem seems to be fear. Fear of ruining something so good in the midst of uncertainty.

I can't rush this. I know I'm so scared myself. I know that I keep thinking that anything can happen between this revelation and its potentially wonderful conclusion.

He may decide that this isn't a good idea after all.

I now also have proof that it doesn't help me to know he feels the same way about me because I still wonder daily whether something has happened to change that. Though, deep inside, I know it hasn't changed.

I think that I was hurt deeply enough the last time that words aren't enough. I've heard words that mean so much one moment and then mean only memories the next. I place no trust in them.

This, of course, led me to think that perhaps I am not so prepared as I thought for another relationship.

Does this mean I shouldn't have one? I don't necessarily think so. Perhaps this just happens when you've been hurt too much already. You second-guess, you pull away, you're scared to look him in the eye too long because it makes you vulnerable and too exposed.

I want this. There isn't a question about it. But I know that I do things that perhaps betray how scared I am and so it's hard for either of us to get in the mood to talk about it.

But, I continue to have a great time with him. I think he knows I know that he knows and that I know that feels the same.

Now it's just a matter of time, right? Until we learn, perhaps, how to be more than friends and ease our way into things? I'm hoping so. It's like there's a delicate crystal between us and we're afraid to touch it in case it breaks and we can't put it back the same way.

I still feel helpless most of the time, though. I'm impatient even though I like things slow like this. I'm impatient for the time all falls into place. But I know I can't do anything to rush the most natural outcome.

It really sucks that I can't even enjoy this tentative, exciting dance. I danced this before and it ended with me being hurt. It's hard for me to enjoy what I know should be making me soar.

he likes me.

...

it sucks that i've gotten keeping a smile on my face down to an art. almost every night, i've cried. except for saturday and sunday night.

i know that it doesn't all have to do with this current situation. i know that a significant part of it has to do with picking at a scab that hasn't completely healed, even though what has caused the itch is different.

i'm just not so strong right now, i don't think. i don't take the thought of impending loss very well. so, naturally, i think "catastrophe" right away.

i don't get e-mails from him like i used to although he's around now. i do see him often enough, though. i guess it's a trade off. i wish i knew how much of this negative feeling comes from the fact that i expected it to be the same as before he left. a lot of it has to do with that, i bet.

i hate the sadness. i'm getting better at not letting it get me down all day. the effort it takes to keep everything at bay---enough so i can concentrate on work---is very tiring. i wish i didn't have to do this. how long is it going to take before i can truthfully say that i'm happy again?

i wish i had these answers. i wish that someone could tell me that in the end, he'll be there. i wish that leaving it up to fate, God, whatever you wanna call it, means that it'll all work out the way i want it to. but none of this can be guaranteed. it's the beauty of life, supposedly, all this drama. but sometimes, a lot lately, i get tired. really tired.

when something inside you dies

I haven't had inspiration from much lately. And it feels like too much work to find strength from within.

Maybe it's the weather? I'm not entirely sure.

Nothing gets me very excited. I think maybe I expected too much.

Most things are pretty bland lately. I've never been one to get really depressed but I suppose it could start with various triggers. I'm not saying that's where I'm at, but I do wonder why it is that something really feels like it has died in me. It feels like there's a dark place. Like I'm losing someone, some place, that I'll never get back. I hate letting go. It feels like giving up. I hate giving up. I hate just having to accept things that I'm not happy about. "Be true to who you are", they say, but what if being true to who you are doesn't seem to work for you?

I don't think there's anything essentially wrong with me. But there are certain things I cannot do. There are certain things that I cannot change.

And it's just dark and sad, and more often than I have in a while, I feel like crying.

i'm taking a poll of sorts

If any of you who might happen to read my post has told a friend that you have more than friendly feelings for him/her, I would appreciate it if you commented and let me know how it went. How long were you friends for? Was it reciprocated? How did you tell him/her? Did it work out? Not work out? Ruin the friendship? I really want to hear both sides of the tale. Any further insights or comments outside these questions would also be appreciated.

where am I now?

I often think, "Who am I?" nowadays. This isn't unusual, except that considering how old I am, many probably think I should be over this.

I do so many things that seem incongruent. They all make up who I am. The positive spin on this is that I AM this conglomeration of disjointed, jagged pieces. It's exciting and dynamic. The negative spin is that I truly don't know myself. That it's taking me a really long time to figure things out. But then, maybe it's just the case that those who say they've figured themselves out are somehow disillusioned and fooling themselves.

More and more, too, I'm feeling sad. Maybe it's the weather. It gets dark so soon. It's dark when I get up and dark when I get out of work. I've taken to going to a little chapel to pray/think during part of my lunch hour. Yes, can you believe I pray? I figure most people do even if they don't know it. I think even just talking out loud, yelling at life, enjoying life can be prayer. Wow, I sound Christian. Not that there's anything wrong with it. It's just that I've met a few too many righteous fanatics that I fear that saying such a thing as "I pray" will conjure up angry thoughts.

Nonetheless, I am sad more often than not.

I long for the carefree belief in who I am. The confidence in my intelligence and expertise that I used to feel most often. I know that it left when he left, as non-progressive as that sounds. But, really, I guess, such things happen no matter which important person leaves our lives. Anyway, that whole situation threw me into a state of i-have-no-idea. I'm still there. I don't know how any of this works. The struggle to keep it together bears down on me.

I'm realizing that the other no longer even sees this. That he may not even believe me when I complain that things aren't going well. On the outside, things look great. I can see that they're great. I don't have much to complain about. But feeling lost encompasses a lot of areas and emotions.

I'm also saddened that he used to be one of my best friends. Someone who seemed to understand that there was more to me than the smile and friendliness.

Change is inevitable, I know. I just hate having to just let it all go. Why am I always letting go? Why doesn't anyone feel like they're letting me go. I feel rather dispensable. I'm indispensable when it comes to my job and what I do for others then. But outside of what I do with my brain and hands, the part that is just me seems dispensable.

He didn't stay for me. No one, except my family and a few close friends, goes the extra mile for me. I've done that for people. I'm getting sick of doing it for people who then don't seem to even remember it. Ok, guys, that is. It's tiring.

Maybe I'm just one of those people who are destined to be alone.

I don't think I'm any good to anybody right now. I'm moody and want to cry. The stupid part is that I know that I've made decisions or have allowed my thoughts to weigh down on me without concrete evidence. But, as I've mentioned before, I still have powers of perception, which, though they could be wrong, have been quite accurate in the past.

As a result, I'm not happy. I hate that only his voice or e-mail can turn my mood around. I don't think that's a good thing. At the same time, letting go of this means being COMPLETELY alone in that department. Not that I think it's a bad thing, because I've been that way before. It's just that added to this is the thought that he'll go to someone else.

I think that a mistrust of anyone new that comes along has settled in me. I don't want to go out with anyone. This only means that I'm not completely over the breakup, though I'm pretty much over him. And then I just get angry. Because I hate that in an indirect way, he still has power over me. It means that it really does take an obscene amount of time to get over someone you once loved deeply.

Its effect is scary and even emotionally debilitating. I do want to drown in something dark. Like the way it feels when you're asleep. But I don't really want to be asleep because I'm not consciously feeling myself heal. In a way, I want a controlled loss of feeling.

And so, it's no wonder that he can't possibly feel the same way about me now as he did before he left. The girl he met after a year isn't the same. She's quieter, more withdrawn, and content to watch the world, actively observe it, without stating her opinion on it. She's not quite sure where she stands on a lot of things---the loss of someone before threw everything up in the air. She doesn't laugh as loudly, jump around like a child, get excited very easily, or act silly very often. She does't know what to say to him because she wants so much for everything to be the way it was---fun and easy---but there seems to be too much to say that can't be said yet. She perceives that the result is undesirable. The projection of herself rather dim. She grows quiet in crowds and isn't sure how he takes this. She thinks the thoughts in his head go something like, "God this is pretty boring. What could we do that's exciting?" And, with a lack of ideas because she no longer brings out magical ideas in him, he opens a book, confirming the thoughts she conjectured were in his head.

She longs for him to know that she understands many of his thoughts and dreams, but hasn't found the right atmosphere or tone for such a conversation. They may never get to that point where they can talk that way again. She's saddened by this. Saddened and angered by the havoc that time wreaks and by the decay of even purportedly strong bonds.

She's frustrated by the helplessness that this knowledge brings. It's a crushing knowledge---that optimism doesn't yield lasting hope, that nothing that she played a part in creating lasts forever.

The pain is really hard to bear. She tries to keep it down. To remember that she's thankful for so many things. But sometimes, giving in to the enemy's grip seems her deserved fate. A punishment, of sorts, for allowing it to get close.

so what do you do...

...when you feel like your insides are empty? (It only took less than a minute.) ...when the slow sunset of realization pushes the strength out of you? And suddendly, I'm truly alone. I feel so lost and dumb. I cannot really write what happened. I think that if I did, no one would see definitive proof. But sometimes, you just know. The way you know that the present under the tree is the one you've been wanting all year long.

I want to get lost somewhere. Somewhere dark. Where I can close my eyes away from people. Where I can just drown in the absence, in the loss of feeling.

Once again, I'm the stupid one. Why is it that I never quite believe signs when they first grin deviously? I'm fooled by the fiendish lure.

And now I just want to cry, but tears aren't going to come. Not freely. My family would hear. Someone would see me and ask if I'm okay.

I don't want to be asked if I'm ok. I want to be left alone. I really just want to get lost. To lose all senses. But drinking won't solve it. I would feel the numbness.

I'm not quite sure what to do.

The rational part of me, the one that always looks at the brighter side of things, says that everything will be ok. That all may not, in fact, be lost. That I don't really have any concrete facts to support my so-called knowledge. And if it turns out I'm right, it could only be for the better. That there's someone out there who will know me better than anyone. Whom I won't have to work so hard at winner over---whom I won't even have to win over!

But I don't believe any of this right now. I see people and buildings and sunlight around me, but no one with me.

I don't quite know what to do about it, though I've been through it before. I know this will all pass again. I just wish I wouldn't have to live like this, watching things pass.

my moment of weakness

Nothing has happened though he's been back for a couple of weeks now. I don't know how much longer I can take this waiting. We're friends. That's obvious. We care. That's obvious. But I can see him being attracted to someone else and then deciding he'd like to try that out instead. I care. I care sooo much. Friends think something will happen. We're obviously really close and special to each other. But what if nothing ever does. I CANNOT just tell him how I feel when I don't have an indication of what he feels. Part of the problem, I think, is that we're both the same in that we're able not to let on about what we really feel. So, basically, we're screwed. Actually, I'm screwed. I know I'm being stubborn. I should be grown up about this. Talk about it with him. But I'm not going to. Besides, if he's interested, and we're alone enough times, won't he eventually do it? It's not like he's never asked anyone out before, so why the hell can't he just ask me out? I hate this. It's this circular maze with no exit. I hate it. Oh, I'm sorry, did I mention I hate this? Did I mention I'm fucked?! I'm starting to think I'm gonna be screwed over again. That I'm feeling a lot for someone, AGAIN, and it won't be returned the same way.

But wait, odd, that just means that you haven't found the right guy.

But he feels like the right guy.

But you got over the other one, you'll get over this one too, and someone special will come your way and it'll be just right.

But I don't want anyone else!!!

You might. You never know who will come along.

I want him to come along.

Uh huh.

And I sit in my room in near-tears.

something new?

there's nothing to stop us now
and in the darkness
all i wanted to do was sit in silence with you

don't we talk because we're scared?
because we know what would happen if we did
because we could
and we're so close
and what if we did
and see what's on the other side

i just want to be in darkness and silence

i'm just saying

The sun surrounded you, and though I could barely see your face, I knew it was you. The way your hair and body were branded by the sun into my eyes. It was the moment I had waited for---your return.

I said a few things, just as though you hadn't been away, and suddently remembered that I needed to hug you. The setting was different from the picture in my mind, my approach less hurried, and less anxious than I had projected. My smile was nowhere as big, and I didn't jump into your arms.

Instead, I walked toward you with outstretched arms and a smile that, I hope, let you know that I was, in the simplest way, happy to see you again. You lifted me off my feet, as my arms encircled your neck. I wonder how you looked when you hugged me and spun me around, 360. I know our eyes met, as I wrapped both my legs to your right, for whatever-the-hell-reason. I suppose it was a sudden playfulness reminiscent of the time before you left. Don't remember what you said exactly, maybe, "How are you?"

It was kind of awkward. You commented on my hair, my shoes, and I, on your sun-kissed skin. Conversation didn't flow, but we were definitely happy to see each other again, in a strange, uneasy way. I couldn't look you in the eye, for a while. I don't think you could look me in the eye, either. I recall you averting them quite a bit at first.

We played a bit, as though reminding the other that that's what we used to do. I wonder if they noticed.

And everytime our eyes met thereafter, everything else, everyone else, blurred around me. You were looking right at me, only me.

Please tell me I'm not alone.

settling in

Finally have the net at home!! Still, it's really hard to blog when my family is up here a lot. It's nice because they really miss me, my brothers included.

Let's see...I'm decorating my room, started a new job (I got a job my first try!! Totally by chance coz a friend showed me a posting. I'm seriously lucky. I didn't even have to do the whole job search thing!!) It's a good job, too, right up my alley. Just challenging enough to keep me from being bored, but not too much that I have to worry about it at night.

And...he's back. I'm seeing him tomorrow with a bunch of friends for the first time. I'm excited, naturally. Though part of me wonders how he's changed in a year. How I've changed.

Ok...so I had all these other thoughts all typed out. Then Blogger screwed up. Now I don't want to retype coz I'm no longer in the mood to replicate. Bah!

Off to unpack. Got lotsa stuff...shites!!

eep!

no e-mail at home. only office. no blog ops. eep!

i want you to know

I want you to know that I don't dream of doing those things because I can't. There's too much for me to do here, too many people to help, and too many people I love that I can't let suffer.

I want you to know that I stay, not because I am not adventurous, but because I find adventure in the small, familiar places that form my home.

I hear of the great things that people do, of the magnificent sights I may never see, and think that perhaps you find me uninteresting, without dreams, perhaps without wonder for the greater world beyond.

And it pains me to think that might be the case, because, I'm sure if I were in your shoes, I would travel far and do things fearlessly...like dancing in Argentina, with my eyes closed to the world, diving into the sea, and climbing peaks in gusty winds.

I want you to understand that my thoughts are not plain. I am simply content to be where I am, with those I know. You are not more sophisticated than me, though, admittedly, I sometimes think that I don't compare. That perhaps my intellect does not hold up to things you know.

But I, too, know things that you don't know. I've seen things you've never seen, and will probably never see, things that people travel far and wide in order grasp. Well, they happened to me, everyday. These are not novel to me. The poor man building houses from nothing, communities coming together in the hot sun, laughing and forgetting their poverty. And yet you think I don't know, or that I am so unlike those who seek these situations out in order to become grounded. Don't forget that there's more to me. That these experiences were closer than you know. That I don't have to seek them out. That I lived close to it and spoke with them. The lessons are more a part of me than they are for those who can really only have a cursory glance at them.

So don't think I don't know, don't care, don't make a difference. I'm simply content, because these have grounded me and we've gone through it and have risen out of it.

under pressure

It's so weird. I realize that I haven't blogged in a while. I'm feeling the pressure. I feel like if I don't write something, I'll lose my readers. This, despite starting the blog not thinking anyonewould read it.

My life has just been busy. I'm saying goodbye to a lot of things, but other prospects are looking bright. Like, hopefully, a slightly challenging new job. Who knows, who knows what the future will bring. It's amazing what can happen in a short period of time, if you think about it. Where will I be a year from now? What will I be doing? What new plans will I be making?

A couple of my friends have been seeing some action on the dating scene. As for me, I haven't. Thankfully, I haven't been worrying about it. Maybe it's because he's coming home soon. But the feeling of expectation isn't really the same with regard to that anymore.

I'm also finding that I'm getting more and more comfortable with the idea of smiling at guys when I go out. I've actually done it and received smiles back. I have found myself eyeing guys, making eye contact, even! These sound like small things, but after the break-up, this is a noticeable change. I like it. I'm feeling more free, less scared, though a little bit hesitant.

Things can only get better. Hmmm...I wonder how many spelling and grammatical errors I have made so far. I won't be rereading this post before publishing, or after, for editing.

There it is. As I've typed. No looking back.

music for a rainy day

Chopin Nocturne Op. 9, No.1

For the first time in months, I felt like playing. I think it's the result of something a girl at practice said on the walk home. She loves to dance. She knows that there are people with ten times the technique she does, but it only makes her want to work harder.

I used to be that way. I would work and I would win. Well, not always, but most of the time. I was cocky. Well, maybe just more self-assured and confident in my abilities. But then things happened, and I lost motivation. My energy was spent thinking---deciphering puzzles and brain twisters.

Today, with the view of the rooftops and skyline that I love, and raindrops occasionally tapping on my window, I played. I haven't played that in a long time, having learned it 12 years ago. (Holy shit!) I've played it occasionally, grudgingly satisfying my mom's request to play it again.

My fingers, defying faded memory, hesitatingly touched the keys. Old lovers, reunited in a cloudy haze, recalling how to touch, where to touch. It was frustrating, wanting to satisfy myself, to hear the response I wanted to hear coaxed, enticed by my fingertips. My emotion imposed, creating emotions in sympathy.

It was far from perfect. I knew how to apply pressure to different parts, creating the sound I wanted, but overall, it was lackluster. I wasn't disappointed, because I enjoyed the moment and the mass of abstraction surrounding me. Certain notes cried out in heart-wrenching oscillations soothed by calm lullabies.

It's just frustrating not being able to satisfy what creation demands, and in turn being left unsated. Thankfully, today, this merely left me looking forward to the next time, a challenge mischievously smiling.

savouring

My cheeks feel flushed, my face feels bright, and there's a nervous delight radiating from my core.  Anticipation is a wild and wonderful thing.

Stay tuned for the roller coaster dip and the slower, thrilling ascent...

happens all the time

Soon as I think 'That's it. I give up!' I hear from him. He writes me about something small, something he remembered to ask about. I keep wanting to shake him off, but I can't seem to do it.

In a perfect world, he would have, all this time, been telling me that he almost asked so and so out, but wasn't interested enough, because he was hinting that he's interested in me. He did not let go of my hand after helping me across ice late one night, until I let go, because he wanted to keep holding it. He held my gaze as I walked to the elevator before my trip last year because he was trying to tell me that he couldn't bear the thought of me being with him. He didn't want to lose touch because he cherishes the same secret hope that I do.

But the world's not perfect. All I know is that I'm on a nauseating roller coaster ride. But once in a while, I take a deep breath and I feel fine, so I open my eyes and see the vast, beautiful world of unknowns stretching into the bright horizon. My head is thrown back against the force to which I've submitted myself and I'm exhilarated by the loss of control and the brief, repeated flashes of where I could find myself.

a poem

Candy wrapper crinkle
wheel-crushed drops
car-swept sighs
transparent streaks
slick streets
eye reflection reflected
tear drop      rain drop
splash sparkle
sprayed mist
so that I can’t see
that you can’t see

one of those nights

It's one of those nights in which the fact that I'm moving to the 'burbs really feels like my life is ending. My parents were strict, so I envision arguments, or me, keeping quiet, seething inside. So tonight, when my mom asked me where I went, the you're-just-checking-up-on-me-aren't-you slant to the question was all I could think of. She may truly just have been curious, but whenever she asks about my later-night whereabouts I can't help thinking that she's making sure I wasn't getting drunk or anything. Oh, don't get me wrong, she knows I drink. I've been sick drunk in front of her before and she wasn't mad or anything. Still, I hate that. I'm really not a little girl anymore. But I think that she forgets. I haven't lived at home for YEARS!! God, get over it!!

I love my parents. Soooo very much! Just some nights, I feel suffocated.

Also...who the hell meets people in the 'burbs where you can't even walk to a coffee shop. Well, you can, but it's not like downtown. It'll take at least 15 mins. from my house. I can't call my friends at 10:30 pm and say, "hey, let's go for coffee". If I do, someone will have to take their car and there'll be lots of driving.

Oh, boo hoo. Listen to me rant about such stupid, piddly problems. It's such a fucking small problem!! But if you knew how strict they were and what a good kid I was and still am, and despite this, how they just can't bear not to know where I am, you'd understand.

I take it as a particular insult when I think of how old I am, the things I've been through, the things I've helped people through, and the responsibilities I've had (we're talking lives!!)... GRRRR!!

Ok. I better stop, I'm working myself into an uglier, mangled pit. And also, I think of the people reading this, who, not fully knowing what I'm necessarily worrying about, will not feel an ounce of pity. I don't blame them. But you have NO IDEA! Honestly.

somewhat stable

Wow! It's been a while since I've posted.

Don't know why.  Just haven't felt like writing.  Partly, I'm really busy.  I'm moving from this apartment soon.  Oddly enough, I'm getting used to the thought of this chapter of my life ending.  I used to have a really bleak outlook on what life is going to be like after this.  Thing is, I've decided to move back to my parents' place for a year.  Yikes!!  But it shouldn't be that bad.  My life as I know it will only end if I allow it to.  My friends are kind of scared for me (those who understand how strict my parents were).  Others in my family have assured me, however, that that's all in the past.  I think I'm ready to brave whatever arguments come my way. 

A number of thoughts have caused this.  I need to save money, for one thing, especially if I plan on pursuing a Master's.  I figure, too, that I can rent a better apartment the year after.  I also feel like I need to help my family out,  allowing my brothers to live a bit more independently.  It's their turn. 

There's also the thought that my parents are getting older and I've spent years away from home.  Perhaps this will be the last time I'll be spending a longer stretch of time with them.  I know they're really happy to have me home, though only for a year.  I'll see them smile, laugh, argue, and can kiss them good night every night like I used to.  That'll be good.  It's one of those things that I know I'll cherish when they're no longer as strong as they are, and most especially when they pass away.  They have YEARS before that will happen.  They're not that old.  But once in a while, I get that lump in my throat when death flashes its dark grin at me.

I have a good friend who reminds me that friends move away, but in the end are always there and kind of do come back to each other.  You know how it is...you won't talk for a while, then you find yourselves closer than you ever were.  Incidentally, I've noticed that certain friends are closer at different times in my life.

Moving sure will be a pain, though.  And I'm not too deluded to think that I won't feel like my independence has been compromised.  That's life for you.  I'm taking a deep breath and taking what comes.  Who knows, I could be mere weeks away from something wonderfully unexpected.  But then again, it could be years.

Good night!

Oh wow! Font colours and such!

strength

My friend's mom says that I am "feisty". I take this as an immense compliment, because this is what I strive for.

Unfortunately, being "feisty" requires a lot of work. It requires you to:
- remind yourself that you are worth waiting for
- remember that the respect you expect of others is justified as long as you give them equal respect
- take a look at the good things in your life regularly
- be ok with not finding a life-long romantic/intellectual sparring partner
- keep discovering things about yourself
- keep discovering things outside of yourself
- allow yourself not be strong without berating yourself for faltering (I find this to be the hardest of all!!)
- accept yourself
- change what you don't like and can change
- overcome stupid fears
- hmmm...I suppose it also requires you to express your feelings no matter how difficult this may be
- stick up for yourself or, alternatively, know when to call it quits
- accept what life throws at you and get up and deal with it

This means that I have to try not to get poked in my heart when I don't hear from him. It hasn't even been that long. I have close friends that I don't hear from in months and yet this doesn't seem to bother me. But perhaps it also means that I recognize my share in not communicating.

But when are you supposed to make the efforts at communication with someone you're interested in and when are you supposed to leave it up to him? Especially when you're friends?

Ah, yes, the age-old When Harry Met Sally Question. I'm at an impasse.

harumpf!

What if I said, "I've sent you real mail and you haven't replied, so I give up. Your turn." Would that be mean? Pushy? I've sent real mail, though it was quite some time ago. Three weeks, maybe? Does that still count? How about I write, "How about YOU send me real mail, and I'LL reply." Hmmm...what to do.

this sums things up in a most confusing, wonderful way

THE SCIENTIST

Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry
You don't know how lovely you are

I had to find you
Tell you I need you
Tell you I set you apart

Tell me your secrets
And ask me your questions
Oh let's go back to the start

Running in circles
Coming up tails
Heads on a silence apart

Nobody said it was easy
It's such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be this hard

Oh take me back to the start

I was just guessing
At numbers and figures
Pulling your puzzles apart

Questions of science
Science and progress
Do not speak as loud as my heart

Tell me you love me
Come back and haunt me
Oh what a rush to the start

Running in circles
Chasing our tails
Coming back as we are

Nobody said it was easy
Oh it's such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be this hard

I'm going back to the start

- Coldplay

I'm better now - Vive le Canada!

I have finally gotten over the cold. I still have phlegm that insists on cozying up to the sides of my throat.

I have had an awesome long weekend with the girlfriends. Nothing too wild; though in recounting the number of nights we stayed out really late to a co-worker, I realized that we did do our share of partying. Only one night of actual drunkenness and co-requisite behaviour. I actually enthusiastically made a really ditzy remark to a friend's cop friend... "pretend we've been doing bad things". That really wasn't what I meant. I was simply mulling over what a normal guy would be like as a cop. I mean, how his whole demeanour would change. Oy! Trust alcohol to twist your brain and tongue at the same time.

The time away was great! I really have to save more money and do it more often. It cleared my head a bit and allowed me to think of what's really important to me right now.

The last night we were out, a somewhat strange, though more recently characteristic thing, happened. I was right in there with the conversation, enjoying the beautiful night with the peeps, when I completely mellowed out. I sat there, not contributing much to the conversation and found myself being rather introspective. It may have been because I was tired (we had had a long day of hiking), but this is becoming a more common occurrence. I fall silent and I'm comfortable with it at the time, not really caring to force words out of my mouth. Then, I think about it and I wonder whether I'm passing up the chance to completely involve myself in the present. Anyway, the night ended with me wishing that I could keep the energy up, as though I had wasted part of my time away.

Not a bad thing entirely, but a bit uncharacteristic and more resembling the way I was in high school. I'm not sure if I like it. Guess it's just the way it is.

"hnggghhhhhhh" - that's me blowing my nose

It certainly feels strange that I haven't blogged in a while. It's a constant "to do" thought in my head.

I've been sick. I'm still sick. Ugh! Can someone heal me now?

I thought I might have something interesting to post, but it turns out I'm too sleepy to write.

I will say, however, that clubs are such a good place to feel the big arms of loneliness wrap around you. It's a dark, suffocating embrace. First I thought it was my mood. I had a better time this past weekend, but when I got home, the same feeling came over me. I had been fighting it the whole night, and I was successful. I walked through my door and it followed me in.

oui!

when someone knows you so well...

...it's hard to figure out when things changed. How is it that love changes? That's part of his power---his knowledge of why I do things. And I guess mine is my ability to make him react.

I realized today that despite my knowing that things have changed, I haven't accepted it all as I thought I had. There seems to be a lingering denial. I've had glimpses of this, with the softly-lit scenes that flit about in my head on very, very rare occasions. Today, though, that hit home.

This explains why I actually dread it when someone seems to be really interested in talking to me. I know that I could be missing out on wonderful friendships. But it's obviously a defense mechanism. I don't want to get even remotely close to the possibility of dating someone. OH WOW!! I just wrote that. I'm so not ready.

I don't even check guys out yet. When I have done so, it was because I reminded myself that there are probably cute guys in [insert place here]. Mostly, if I seem to catch someone's eye, I avert my gaze and I want to become as inconspicuous as possible. Don't get me wrong, it's not like guys are always checking me out. Nuh uh. Basically, in the few instances that someone starts to take notice, I want them to go away.

Yeah...that's pretty messed up. But I think it all just has to do with my not being ready for anything right now.

It's kind of upsetting. And if I didn't have to go out after work today, I would've just sat here and had a good cry. I still feel one coming on, but I have to eat. So it looks like I'll be able to divert my attention elsewhere for a might longer.

ahhh...

Ok. Much better now. I think I just needed a work out. Practice was AWEsome! I'm beginning not to be so self-conscious. I improved a wee bit today too.

I can now also scratch 2 things off my to-do list. Wunderbar!!



And the lightning crashed upon a tree---split it in two, right down its centre. And the flower wept and feared the worst. The sky lit up once more. It revealed a nook at the tree's base from which emerged a wide-eyed chipmunk, wondering why it survived and where it would go.

gah!!

You know it's bad when you blog multiple times a day. Well, that's what it means for me, anyway.

I've got a million things I'd like to get done, but I can't seem to do them. I'm going to practice, so that's one important thing down, but I also need to:

- think of an article topic
- finish the application
- get started on new pieces
- call my teacher
- put photos up
- fold my clothes and put them in drawers
- go to the bookstore, w/c I forgot to do today
- shop for a friend's wedding gift
- read lots and lots

I get annoyed when I don't get reading time. Yes, yes, prioritize, make up a schedule. I have convinced others of the virtue of such an undertaking. I have found it an excellent tool. Lately it's like I've got ADD, though. I start something and remember that I have to do another, then I start that and nothing's finished!

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

There is a very simple solution to this, ladies and gentlemen, and dogs, let's not forget the dogs...finish one thing before starting the next. And make a prioritized list of tasks, crossing off each one as they are completed. In this manner, you will be satisfied because you have completed something. Above all, be realistic and schedule breaks. You are not a super human.

mixed emotions

I'm getting that confused jumble of thoughts in my head. It only leads to one place...the thought that I'm not quite sure how to present myself to others, not sure which side to show.

I think it's a consequence of being brought up to keep private things private. I can talk to anybody, chat it up, but do I really say anything about myself? Only very few people know me intimately, even among my close group of girl friends. People wouldn't call me shy, but I've been told a number of times that it's hard for them to see who I am.

I truly envy those people who can just write or say anything. They seem to get involved in interesting, in-depth conversations. It's not like I haven't, but I contribute very generalized comments, using such pronouns as "we" or "one" in conversations that make me dig deeper into my thoughts and analyze my values more closely.

What am I afraid of? I'm pretty sure, though this isn't definitive, that I'm afraid that people will laugh, think I'm dumb, think I'm narrow-minded. The latter is the worst thought. Because I know that there are probably ideals that I fight to hang onto that may seem conservative to most, particularly with regard to sex. I fear that if I vocalize them, people will get the wrong idea; think that I can no longer understand them. It's just so hard to convey the intricate fibres of thoughts that linger around the more visible threads in my mind---the fibres that allow me to understand completely where other people are coming from because the very same thoughts challenge me all the time.

Anyway, I envy those who, as a result of their openness, seem so incredibly interesting and get interesting feedback in return.

Hmmm...I think I require adjustment. I'm not sure how, though.

sleepy

I get cranky when I'm sleepy and talking to my parents. It's so horrible. They're on the phone and all I can think of is, 'oh no, I must get off the phone. I'm soooo sleepy..."uh huh. yup. oh well. uh huh. ok, I have to sleep now".

Then I feel mean, coz I don't talk to them for too long as it is.

Also...sometimes I think that I don't want to write anything here because I don't want to bore the few people who read my blog. But then, I remember that the reason I started this whole thing was really for me to have some place to write without really caring if anyone reads it or not. It's funny how, once you know people read stuff, you take them into account. Well, at least I seem to, though I'm trying not to. Not coz I don't care, but I wanna keep it honest. Well, as honest as I can be without giving away too much of my life in case someone I know comes across this.


I'm grumpy. G'night.

a squirrel inquiry

You know, speaking of squirrels, despite there being so many, I don't know what squirrel poop looks like. Any idea?

squirrel on high

I just remembered that I saw the strangest squirrel behaviour ever. I saw this squirrel whose tail was rotating like a propeller. It made jerky, compulsive movements under a parked car and eventually came to rest (I don't even know how) on its side, just beside the wheel, in plain view. It lay there for a good minute, breathing heavily. It didn't move when I stood to look at it, except for eyes that looked downward to look at me. They weren't even curious eyes, wondering why I was there. It was too intent on lying there, recovering from the burst of energy that I'm pretty sure caused a loud thumping sound that first made me take notice of it. I swear, I thought someone had thrown the squirrel down. Then I figured it had taken drugs and was jumping up and down under the car.

After the self-absorbed, unseeing look it gave me, I moved away, suddenly fearing that it was rabid and would attack me. I've never been so scared of a squirrel in my life.

wish

You know what I wish for most right now? That he would just come home. I really have given up, as in I no longer expect anything. I don't expect e-mails or phone calls, or funny stuff relayed.

I haven't written about this lately, or blogged too frequently, because I'm truly having an awesome summer so far!! It's been a good balance between thinking time and doing time, me time and other people time. So, it has become easier for me to distance myself from the situation.

I still really miss him though. And he has NO idea. Someone commented sometime ago that I should just tell him. I can't right now. He's not here. So, it's hard to tell whether there might be a hint of anything he felt before. But the fact that I don't know doesn't bug me too much now.

I wish he'd just come home. And I wish a thousand other beautiful things, though wistfully, and without much hope. I no longer really chase after it like I used to, that is, to the extent that unspoken emotions can "chase".

All that happened to change the way I look at it is that I got tired of the push and pull of emotions. It wasn't good for me---the thinking, analyzing. Thankfully, there's a limit to how much trouble I will allow myself to go through. If I have to work so hard and always feel like I don't get anything out of it, then it can't all be good. Maybe that just means it's not right. Period. The end.

So that's why I gave up. That's why I don't get the tingly feeling I used to get when he'd say something even remotely sweet. I just take them as they are...words on a page, meaning nothing more than the most basic implications of language in context, with no imposed connotations.

Still, I wish he were here.

For those who read this...how are you guys doing? What's life like on your side of the world? I hope all is well and the world is full of colour for you! If any of you have blogs, I'd be happy to take a peek, if you'll let me. If not, that's cool too.

reaching out

installation by Andrew Wright

Installation art hasn't really sparked much interest in me, but this did. There's something disturbing to me about the hands reaching out. I imagine running my hands across their fingertips, not allowing them to grasp my hand, and I imagine that it would feel like cold, fleshy stubs, writhing, wriggling, feeling like thick worm heads, longing to be held by warmth. Then, another scenario...teasing the hands I pass by making contact with the length of fingers, with palms, maybe holding hands every now and then. What would I feel? Caresses, fingers tickling my palm, a flick, a pinch, a clap.

Most disturbing would be desperate clutches at my hand. I would feel an urgent cry for help that comes from a mouthless, body-less being. It has nothing but two hands that need to express and to be understood. I try understanding, asking questions, but these don't help. They can't hear! They communicate with touch and gesture and nothing more. The hands create various languages but I can't understand. Soon, the grasp is one of angry frustration. Scared, I wrest my hand free. I look back and it still signals for me. I can't help. What am I leaving behind? From what does it need to be freed?

For more info on this artist, visit this site.

void

i'm pissed off in a really hurt way. and i'm definitely giving up.

just read this

When I think on my friends,...I realize that these people who have supported me, these people who have been the only glimmers, err some of the glimmers, one of my few sources of happiness will soon become unavailable to me; or less available to me. So when I think on these things, I think that if it's going to happen regardless; whether I want it to happen or not, perhaps I should choose to do it. Or rather choose one of those courses of actions, I always feared to choose because I might loose contact with the friends I had already, seeing as how they will eventually run off in their own 'pursuit of happiness' anyway.

...found that in someone's blog. Sad. I've so often felt/thought that.

heartbreak

We've experienced heartbreak. Men (maybe boys, actually) have, for whatever reason, decided not to commit themselves to us.

No real reason to mention that except that I find it rather odd that we share this experience.

I'm also really tired of waiting. Does everyone kind of wait after losing someone? Why do I keep waiting? Why is it that guys never seem to do the waiting? I haven't met one guy that has. Well, ok, maybe one, but only sorta, ok, he doesn't count either.

Yesterday, I actually decided that I was sick of waiting, sick of thinking. It's like chasing water being drawn by the sun. It's way stronger than I am. All I feel is the painful heat that's burning me.

I think I'm heading for the shade for a bit. Until the sun isn't too hot and blinding. Maybe I'll bask in it again at dawn...gentler light, the world looking new.

closing time

I spent an incredible day with my friends.

We haven't spent a whole day together in such a long time. I feel like a chapter of our lives is closing. We've been safe, living within a 15 min. maximum radius from each other. It's not like we spent every day together, but just knowing that we're there makes it feel safe. This really has been home to me---they've been home to me---for...9 years!

But things are shifting. We HAVE grown up. Jobs, financial reasons, relationship reasons, are coaxing us to stretch the heartstrings that hold us together---like rubber bands. They're stretching. I know they'll never break. But the people on the other ends may turn around the curb, out of sight. I'm sure I'll do my share of the stretching. More and more, it's going to be harder for us to pick up the phone and decide to do something on the spur of the moment. I won't be able to just up and decide to walk over to ____'s house.

We were all sitting around my dining room table and I couldn't help thinking how nice and happy it was. And I wonder if it'll ever happen again. It probably will, but maybe it won't be the same. Maybe better? Maybe we'll all find what's best for ourselves and that future gathering will be an even happier one.

My friends are incredible. Sometimes, some of them have annoyed me, and I'm sure I've annoyed them, but in the end, we know we're there for each other.

It's a little disturbing for me to wonder whether I've become too comfortable. I don't like things shaking up my world too much. It's possible that there's good reason for this. I've done a lot of shaking things up. I'm happy to have experienced stability. But in discussing ____'s future today, I realized that maybe I've been waiting for life to throw something good my way. I used to work really hard for what I wanted, but somehow, I got into a comfortable niche, and haven't thought that maybe there's something better that awaits, if only I look out for it and reach out.

I'm scared of what'll happen to me when they go or when I go. I know that I'm scared of being alone, despite knowing that I'll make more friends. But they'll never be THESE friends. I think it's partly the fear that there is nothing better out there.

I'm really gonna miss them. There was so much freedom in all of this. I love them so much!

I HATE YOU!

I HATE YOU!! i hate you for still having the power to make me cry. for making me reminisce. how am i supposed to reach out in friendship if you are still able to make me hurt and live in limbo like this?!! you're so sad right now that it makes me really sad. it makes me want to talk to you like we used to. then you make me feel like a bitch, even though all you've done is share what's going on with you. but you make me feel like a bitch because i can't bring myself to write back. not when i don't know how. but i know that you need me. well, i'm working hard at not needing you. don't you understand that?! i'm working really hard. and you keep setting me back, though you don't know it. but if i write all this to you, it'll be like a kick in the groin when you're down, coz it sounds like you really need a true friend right now.

STOP PUTTING ME INTO SUCH A STATE OF CONFUSION!! IT'S NOT FAIR!! YOU MADE A DECISION, NOW LIVE WITH IT! I'M LIVING WITH IT, AND IT WASN'T EVEN MINE TO START.

but if i turn my back on you, i'll feel bad. because i am luckier to have all my friends and family with me. but is it my duty to help you? duty as what? a friend? it shouldn't even feel like a duty, but you're NOT my friend. not right now.

PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE! even if i don't want you to. it's just that i really need you to find your own life now, as much as this means leaving me out of it.

what does this look like to you?

I couldn't resist. I was doing dishes and I saw this. I've been pretty wholesome in this blog so far, so I figure I'm entitled every once in a while.

blech!

I sound so emotional in my entries!! People get such a one-sided view. It's really too bad that I can't go into detail about the fun stuff I do because I don't want people to be able to connect this blog to me. I will say, however, that I went to this AWESOME little club last night. Best live music I've heard in a while and incredible atmosphere. Most times, when I walk into a new place, I don't feel like I fit in, but there, it instantly felt comfortable...super chill.

Anyway, I was reading past entries and I thought that I sound so boring, talking about the same stuff all the time!! I think about a lot of that stuff because I'm really dealing with them. I actually thought, "God, get a life already. Stop moping! I can't stand it anymore!" I sound like some pretentious, depressed artist. You know the type...[in a rough, smoke- and drink-affected voice]'I'm so depressed, man. It hurts...so I turn pain into inspiration, or just allow myself to feeeeel'. Yikes! I sicken myself.

This is why I hate what I write. After a while I can't stand it. There are very few things that I have written that don't make me flinch.

Anyhoo...HAPPY VICTORIA DAY LONG WEEKEND!!

transient

I find it terribly hard to comprehend the reality that objects, things that don't make a difference in this world, last beyond the people that create them; exist years after what gave them meaning is only a memory, if that. There's no life there. But we give them life through the memories and emotions imposed on them. Why do we even have to do that? What makes it so hard for humans to just let go. Because we are our memories. (I recall reading some philosopher that said that, don't remember who.) Without them, who are we? Who can prove that we existed? But they're just memories. They make us nostalgic and in a lot of cases hold us back and we have to tire ourselves fighting to rise above it. Even happy memories tend to make us wish we could relive the past again, even if we're happy with things now. I use 'we' a lot. I really mean "I". But I know lots of people who feel that way.

carved on wood
x + y
up in the heights
creaky tower overlooking green
held up against time and elements
for all to see

but it's no longer true
so many lies etched
outliving truth

How can mere objects last longer than real, supposedly true feelings? Longer than the real, meaningful, intertwining of two lives? People who walk, think, feel, make a difference, and who are so important don't last that long. It's not fair. Tonight, I can't get over how unjust that is. I can count on my sofa to last longer than anything people-related. And I want to hang on to people and not lose touch. And I feel like I'm missing out if I can't be with one friend or another.

But when you hang on to a memento, there's really nothing there anymore. My mind places meaning and memory...projects it onto a lifeless souvenir. That doesn't mean anything. It's really not fair.

reinventing

Of late, I've been feeling like I don't really know how I'm supposed to present myself. I'm noticing that various aspects of who I am are coming out. I'm realizing that my interests are vast. I don't think I have time to pursue all of them to the extent I want. Do you ever get the feeling of stepping out of yourself and looking at yourself through the way others must see you? That's been happening more frequently to me. Sometimes it gets me down somewhat and I grow quiet.

I thought that at this age, I should know who I am. For a while, I was really secure in my knowledge of that. I still know what I value most, but sometimes I don't think I fit into myself quite the way I would like. The suit makes me a little awkward.

Maybe people always reinvent themselves, particularly when life-changing events happen. I feel anxious at times, because I feel like I should be at a particular point in self-determination by this time. But I hazard to guess that there are many people, much older than I, who, for whatever reason, don't quite know who they are anymore.

Maybe I have to settle into not fully knowing who I am exactly.

cinema paradiso

i want it magical, with sparks. rainy kisses and laughable disasters. waiting for the impossible with frustrated patience. there has to be magic and wonder and a world that opens up. if there isn't, then i don't want it.

severed

I don't remember whether we said "I love you" the last time. Going through motions of familiarity, pretending that the divide was not there. Reminiscing not through memory but through touch, the memory not of the mind, but of skin and taste, gingerly tracing the familiar thread broken up by time. Holding on and saying goodbye at the same time. But I couldn't deny the divide---I felt it all the way, through to the last hand-hold, the last kiss, the last look back (this time, you actually looked back for the first time), the wistful smile and the final wave. We walked away from each other and we'll choose not to walk back. I was numb, aware that there was a world around me, but it couldn't touch me then. I came up and ate the last bit of the breakfast we shared and was surprised at my ability to eat without tasting. It was something to do. I didn't cry, you know. I was relieved, more than anything, that at last I could be done with it and eventually stop hurting.

But once in a while, I remember the last night I held you. I don't think you held me in quite the same way. I shook with knowledgeable sobs, knowing that this could be the last, was quite certain it would be the last time we would be together with any semblance of mutual, reciprocal, vibration. But I know it wasn't enough to move you, not the way it moved me. "The last time" happened before we even knew it. The end was a memory reel, fading out and fading into an extension of the end that I hope lives up to its promise of a complex, rich, and satisfying beginning.

so...friends?

Can you really be friends after breaking up?

It's an incredibly strange place to be. Wanting him not to be sad, wanting to offer help, even simply in the form of solidarity of experience, but not being able to. We made the decision before speaking of it, and didn't fight it. For me, it was because I was tired of it and knew it wasn't good for me. We need to deal with this separately, but how do you tell someone you care about that you can't help, because you're going through the very same thing?

I want to tell him he has no idea how hard it's been. Tell him what I'm going through, ask him stuff to get 'the guy's opinion'. But I can't do that. I'd be emotionally depending on him, and making him my friend, which isn't really what he is.

I've come so far, and yet I hear from him, and something implodes in my chest, making me think that I'm not ready at all. But maybe you're never really ready until someone comes along that makes you want to be ready. Maybe 'ready' just means that you're open to someone coming in even if memories still make you tear up. Maybe it's acknowledging that you're still hurt, but you're willing to put that aside because someone very special may come soon. Maybe being ready just means that you allow yourself to feel all the things that come along with a break-up, the good and the bad, and say, "This happened. It still stings on occasion, but I'm not going to hide it because it's part of who I am now." Maybe it's just presenting yourself to someone new, asking him (or her, as the case may be) to see all of you, being willing to have them to get to know the new you, and giving them the opportunity to love you as such because you're ready to do the same.

summer job

At work with not much to do. I could finish all the more not-even-so-pressing stuff in a half hour, I bet. Not too bad. I'm getting paid well. Still, it's boring and not very rewarding. Perfect for a summer job, actually.

It's the summer and last night, while making dinner, I started to get stressed out, like I don't have enough summer time to do all the fun things I want to do. You know it's bad when you can't even relax about relaxing.

Then, there's the welling up in my chest. What does it feel like...like heated air pushing through an invisible, thin-skinned balloon, with microscopic holes all over. The air pressure is just enough to keep the balloon in shape, but it's hard to say how far the air reaches. Where's it going? Who knows. Again, there's this whole feeling of wanting to contain it. I need things to sit neatly in perfectly-defined geometric figures. Like those shapes I could fit into this ball, as a kid---a 'match the shape' toy. Ain't that just the trouble though...there's no shape. And even if there were, it sure don't fit nuthin'.

Ok, back to work, the big guy coming back soon, not that he'd even care. I once spent at least an hour on a long distance call from a friend (she paid). I apologized and he said, "Don't apologize to me." Ok, then, I won't.

restless in a good way

It's amazing how used I am to running around, thinking of the next step before I finish the first. I actually end up forgetting I was mid-step, then I start another, and realize I have to go back and finish the first. No wonder I stumble.

Anyway, I have a whole day of freedom ahead of me. I will take my camera for a walk in the gorgeous weather, though it's not altogether warm. I'm hoping to catch young leaves, blossoms, textures. But I find myself thinking the way I do when I'm stressed: ok, gotta leave by____, do I wanna go there?, what would I catch?, but the sun may not be in the right spot, should I go up there?, I should go there first coz the blossoms won't last forever, yeah, I'll go there. Get off the net!! Get off your ass or you won't catch a thing!!

thread

(I just had this strange thought that this thread is thin and brown, and, if taut, can cause a cut if a finger were run across it. I picture this thread changing into a sunflower yellow, a cottony texture, slipping through this blog whenever I speak of something happier, its plush fibres momentarily thinned as it emerges through the needle-made point. It's occasionally scarlet, when I write more passionately and sensually. It is silken then, and lasciviously slides through. Thick, black thread is stubbornly resistant. Then, casting off restraint, it violently penetrates the fabric with anger.)

still restless

I'm going through this strange, though not novel, experience. I keep wanting to wade through the world wide web, but I don't even know what I'm looking for specifically. It's partly a form of procrastination, I know, but I feel like it's a search for answers, stimulation, or inspiration. Not that I really expect to find inspiration on the web, but maybe someone will say something that inspires me. I think I should just walk outside. Yeah, maybe it's too much of being in this room.

On a grander scale, I think I'm searching for what I'm supposed to become. I feel like I'm searching for clues as to what I really want to accomplish in life. So clichéd! I'm trying to grasp at some unknown, intangible entity that will somehow more clearly define the outlines of the blurred visions I have of what the future holds in store. When I turn my mind's eye toward this vision, I literally see colors blurring into colors in undefined contours. I think that's why I feel a bit like a caged dog chasing its tail in a pet store cage. I recall the freedom of having a definite plan (I will go to highschool, university, get a summer job, etc.), but I can no longer find a blueprint for the upcoming one. I want to somehow contain the space that's opening up. The extra pressure comes from knowing I can do so much with the time that's drawing nearer and nearer. I want to make the right decision. More and more, I'm looking towards creating a full life for me as an individual---I mean, alone. No, this isn't a trace of the common rough, self-deprecating thread that runs through this blog. I really want to be able to stand alone amidst the people I love.

What to do....what to do....

restless

Anyone got any concentration tips? I've got work to do. Not schoolwork anymore, but work nonetheless. Bah! I need time to think about all kinds of things, a long-term job, career-related stuff, money, life. I wish I didn't have all this other stuff to work on. Also, I wanna walk around, enjoy the sun. BAH! I'm indoors!! [seething]. Almost there, almost there...

will talking about this turn people off?

Some people don't like to hear religious talk, but there's gonna be some to follow. Oh well, whatever.

I've just returned from church and the priest was talking about the image of Jesus as the Shepherd. He knows his sheep and his sheep know his voice.

God knows me through and through and this thought really made me want to cry today. It reminded me that I don't need to be specific, that I need not be scared, that everything that's happening has a reason behind it, even if I don't grasp it. I don't think I could be called incredibly religious, though I work at having faith all the time. And I don't find it easy. I suppose there's something a little sad about God being the only one who knows me through and through, but it honestly helps. I think we all have parts of ourselves that we don't share with anyone else and it's comforting to know that there's something out there (God to me, something spiritual to others, whatever it may be) that I am who I am with.

Religion as a comfort really bothers me. Like it's what people turn to in time of need and it serves no other purpose. It's not true for me. It serves as a source of constant challenge and a backdrop against which I throw all kinds of difficult questions and "sins". There are so many things that the Church believes in that I do not. I am fully aware that humans are behind it, and though they are supposed to be blessed by God, and therefore enlightened, I'm not naive. I know that they, too, are capable of screwing up and being mean and hurtful. I've had one-on-one experience with that. As a result, while I expect a lot from the religious, I am not surprised by the hypocrisy of some (or many?).

I am also incredibly embarrassed by those who would call themselves Christian, and yet, look down on those who aren't. Let's face it, many are born into a religion, or into none at all. They are not to be faulted. I can't even call it a fault. I know so many atheists and agnostics who are so much more accepting, open-minded, generous, thoughtful, genuine, etc., than some Christians I know. I am no better than they are. If God is the Judge of all, and this is what Christians are called to believe, then none of us should judge others, but rather try to understand all. I don't recall God saying that we should force people to believe, though, leading by example and helping people see God is desired. Personally, I don't care what people do as long as they do what they believe to be right by themselves and by others.

Back to the shepherd image...
The priest also mentioned the shepherd who breaks the legs of the lamb who had gone too far astray, or who repeatedly went astray so that he could pick it up and carry it. Such a horrid image! What cruel person would ever do that? But then I thought that that's certainly how I feel now. I feel terribly broken and traumatized (ok, not to the point of psychosis) by the experience of pain. I don't want to hurt again. But maybe I've been broken because I need time out from the world, from the way my life was going. Maybe I need to rediscover who I am and determine my own path. Maybe others in my life need time to themselves too in order to appreciate to a greater extent themselves, and how their lives merge with others.

There was a time when my life was going so smoothly. It was magical. A friend called it "the charmed life". She still believes this is true. I was always thankful for everything, but there was a part of me that doubted how long it would last. I couldn't believe that good things could continually happen to me and that, certainly, bad was sure to follow. The inevitability of this scared me. At times I think this was my mistake, and such a great loss of faith. Perhaps I am now being challenged to see the good signs in my life. To be completely grateful by not thinking that it will go away; to stop denying that God is sending me answers to my prayers (and believe me, I continually see direct answers, but the skeptic in me refuses to accept it as such).

Perhaps the overall lesson is not to second-guess, not to question the good and think, 'why me?', unless it is to think that I am lucky and I should try to help other people, and not to think negatively.

Now, this is not to say that I'm automatically not going to question, that I'm going to be blinded by faith. But I hope that it gives me strength and that I take it as the challenge that it's supposed to be. And also to trust that things will work out for the best. Because if I think otherwise, then there really isn't a point to anything.

Religion or no religion, I have to think that I can create my own good, that there is a reason for everything, but the reason need not be self-serving. The outcome need not be self-serving either. It's not all about me.

rain and car-swept sighs

I would rather know either way. I would like to know now, all the answers. I want to give up or move forward. I hate this place more tonight than usual. I bash my fist throught the air because that's all I've got---nothing, space. Nothing to be angry at, nothing to care about, nothing concrete to think of or hang onto. So I throw my fists in rage at it and glare at nothing. You can't see anything, you fucking don't even care. I've been forgotten. Go figure. This just might be my style. I'm sick of it. Fuck it all. It's all so useless. None of it really matters, I can almost see how it'll end. And even in this strange rage, I hope that I'm wrong. I want to back off from it all, but I'm afraid that inaction will cause the bad outcome to be my fault. So what am I supposed to do exactly? Will my fate or have fate will my life? All I know is, I'm sick of it all right now. Sick of it all and no one sees.

thoughts

What is it about love that creates this stupid longing and the constant thinking anyway. I was thinking that it's really just like a mind habit after a while. Maybe the mind must always be preoccupied with something, and what better way to keep busy than to contemplate something that it can never really know the answer to.

There are people out there who are so obviously in unhealthy relationships, and yet they stay. There seems to be an addictive thing about it. Then came the sad question...is love and the search for it just a habit? Obviously, I don't really believe that, but there are times when the answer seems 'yes' and it's scary.

Think about it. It's a constant feeding into oneself of a mix of emotions. What a fun rollercoaster ride!---anger, jealousy, love, friendship, lust, etc. No wonder we want it so.

We love one, then, somehow, we get over it enough to start looking elsewhere. Which is not to say that a part of someone doesn't continue with us, but I marvel at the ability to continue when something supposedly meant so much. Once, I thought, 'This is it!' "I love you with all my heart, my soul...", and all such effusions. And then it's gone, and I carry on.

But then if it were an addiction, I would not have wanted it before knowing what it is, but I recall a time before all this in which I really felt alone and ready. Or, it could be a case of wanting to try something out that everybody says is so good. But if that were the case, I'd have tried smoking, or pot (Am I the last person who hasn't tried it? I keep turning it down at parties. I think it's coz of questionable sources, like, "eew, your mouth has been on that."), or any number of things.

I just wish the constant thinking didn't accompany it. And this restlessness, wanting to know the outcome. And the seeing someone whom you think is great, but who doesn't seem to see you in that way, but you won't know until you talk about it, but you can't talk about it, coz the fear is too great, but it could be really good, but you don't wanna look stupid, and you don't want it to affect the friendship, you know you have so much in common, and you already support each other, and it's all so logical, but maybe it's bad coz it's logical, but there WERE sparks, and everybody saw, and you're pretty sure you saw, and you wonder why he can't see it and if he'll ever see it and if he EVER saw it, and am I just being dumb? (he's being dumb), but really all you want is to be with him, but is it enough to be friends coz you can't bear to see him with someone else, and you wonder if he's attracted to you, or if the thought of kissing you grosses him out, and if you're like a sister, and then your mind hurts, and you feel like you've known him long enough to know you love him, but wonder if it's really love coz you've felt that before, but you feel so sure, and you search for clues in what he says, coz that's all you got right now, and does he think about you?, think the same thoughts, wish the same wishes, see the same sameness, think of past incredible moments, wonder what would happen if he mentioned it, wonder if you feel it too, and see how truly good it could be?

As usually occurs after I've blogged this stuff, my mind clears enough to think that I should really just freakin' do all kinds of fun things that I wanna do. Take photos, read a whole helluva lot, work on the site, etc. etc. There's SO MUCH to do!!! Youpee!!

I can already feel that it's going to be an awesome summer!

again

I can't compete. I really feel like I can't compete in something that isn't even a matter of competition. But that's how I feel. So lost, with so many questions---things that slipped off unseen, though I felt them go (or let go?). There's a crease between my eyebrows furrowed by thoughts. I want to stop asking those questions, waiting, mouth open, tongue dry, hoping that the drops that I watch form will not be a mere mirage. I'm still waiting. If I leave now, that drop may fall, wasted. But I wish someone would tell me whether all have left for the sun. That the mud is dry and cracked. And that I should find another place. But if told that and I go...what if I don't see the tiny, delicate leaves emerging from the one seed that managed to convince the last drop to stay?...right there in the very crack that leaves it exposed to the harshness of the sky...and then, what if it were to die?

anyone have any answers/ideas?

So...how do you know whether you have crossed the friend line with someone you're interested in, never to return to the other side?

The trouble with being friends is that you talk about really personal things that you don't tell anyone else, because you are close and trust each other. So how do you know whether you are seen as "the shoulder" or as "a special person", one who's breaking through barriers. Trust is really important in a relationship, but if you're interested in someone who also happens to be your friend, are there just certain things you shouldn't talk about? When is it a case of "I need your help" and when is it a case of "I can tell you want to know me, and I think I'm ready to have you know me"?

If anyone could shed some light on this whole thing, I would greatly appreciate it.

I was watching Everwood today, and once again it made me cry. I'm on the verge of tears a lot, maybe I'm PMSing. I tend to get more emotional. No...it's happened other times too. The whole Ephraim and Amy storyline, with the timing being off...UGH! So true, so true.

I randomly clicked on someone's blog today and found this. I really liked it.

"Wait for the boy who pursues you....the one who will make an ordinary moment seem magical... The kind of boy who brings out the best in you and makes you want to be a better person.... Wait for the boy who will be your best friend... The person who will drop everything to be with you at any time of the day, no matter what the circumstances. Wait for the boy who makes you smile like no other boy makes you smile and when he smiles you know he needs you.... Wait for the boy who wants to show you off to the world when you are in sweats and have no makeup on, but appreciates it when you get all dolled up for him.... Most of all, wait for the boy who will put you, at the center of his universe..."

just me

it has just occured to me that it kind of sucks not being able to immediately share my joy with anyone. one of my friends called, my mom called, so i've shared with them. but it's not the same as sharing it with someone who has seen me go up and down trying to accomplish something important. so, as i sit here in this bright, sunny room, i smile to myself and feel really happy and proud about it all. i close my eyes and take a deep breath.

...and it's just me in this big, wide, open space...and i'm smiling and free...

i see the light!

haaaaaaa...long sigh of relief. things went well. it's funny that after the stress is lifted things seem brighter. it's all a mind trick, isn't it? if i can coach myself through the harder days successfully, i'd be alright. but seriously, once again, there isn't anything significantly different in my life, except that i've completed yet another exam---THE exam! i wish i could somehow harness this energy and save it for a more trying time. or, if i can emulate all that i feel today---openness, calm, brightness, etc.---at a worse time, then i can work my way out of any boggy mire. it's definitely an art.

this is the highlight of my day

I got the fractal images to appear. I think they will stay there.

Apart from that...

In my head, I was throwing things. First, I thought I would throw fragile things, but I thought that would be too easy and that I needed sturdier, breakable objects so that I could throw them REALLY, REALLY hard and they would hit the brick buildings I was walking past and shatter with a LOUD, LOUD blast into innumerable shards.

i pledge my love to thee

In the depth of your darkness I find life. You wake my tired limbs and coax my mind into cognition. As numbness begins its delicate, opportunistic descent into the space gradually revealed by the hesitant, though imminent, departure of sentience, the force of your magnetism repels it with scathing dissent. For a few more moments, the world is tactile. I taste you...delightful, bittersweet. Your heat threatens to consume me from within, leaving a molten, metaphysical path that is my secret proof of your searing caress. My lotus eyes awake, belying the ephemeral fantasies that flit unseen. Sadly, our union is transient, and too hastily replaced by memory's sweet indolence. I am abandoned, defenseless, against night's restless fury. Defeated, I submit, and deliver my last conscious breath---a sacrifice at the altar of a vindictive wakefulness. Oh, hot, delicious, addictive coffee, only you can fill my fatigued body such sweet chaos!

is this what i'm meant to do?

I thought I could commit my life to the study of music. But, if I'm having such a hard time focusing on it right now and I can't relish the lines, am I mistaken? But maybe this happens everytime something becomes work and not a pastime. Am I meant to spend hours alone in a room doing this? The reward of playing something beautifully and having it mean something to others certainly makes it all worth it. I just have to figure out how essential it is to who I am. And even as I write that I know that the answer is: IT'S ABSOLUTELY ESSENTIAL.

I hope this lack of motivation stops soon. Jury's next week!

version 2

snowflake kiss


cold perfected symmetry
made abstract
in the warmth of ecstasy's sigh

there goes time again

It's mighty late. I always have patience for the internet, though. I think it's something of an addiction.

But that aside...

Sometimes, my secrecy hurts. I hate having people read what I've written. When I hand essays in, I cut them off. I get them back and I don't even look at the comments. I'm scared to commit to the words, or to have the words commit to me. I don't understand why this scares me so. Others put their lives out there and are free.

I think it has to do with words being undeniable. Music, being more intangible, seems safer. Fewer can decode it. I offer an explanation of myself through it, but I can affirm or deny its manner of receipt, or float in between. It's as though sending it out into open space subjects it to the subtle and imperceptible infiltration of...well, anything, really...dust particles, perfume, leaves, skin cells, light, time. With all that interferes with the part of me that's sent out with music, I can be assured that I will be indistinguishable.

It occurs to me that what I want is for people to pay attention. It all sounds so egotistical. But I want people to take the time to figure out the puzzle, picking up pieces here and there. I think that I do that with others. Maybe I'm feeling that people want it all upfront. We've become impatient (even I am guilty of that). I want someone to ask the questions. Come to think of it, hardly anybody asks me why I chose a certain piece of music. I suppose that's part of the veil.

The down side to all of this is that even people closest to me don't really know about all the strange things that go through my head. They're not aware of my writing style, and I will likely never know whether they think something I've written is good, bad, effective. I won't get feedback from them, and I won't get a response to my innermost thoughts. I will never know whether something I have said, with care, makes them cringe or sparks their imagination. They won't know how I feel the world.

observations

I'm discovering that a strange thing is happening. I started this blog because some people I know have one and I wanted to know what it feels like to have people read my thoughts. I don't mention any names, and sometimes, things may be vague and up to interpretation.

I'm learning a bit about html, too, as a result.

The thing that I'm finding is that I want people to read stuff here. I don't claim that they'll find it interesting, but the thought that someone in the great wide world will read my thoughts, maybe someone across the diameter of the globe from me, is amazing!!

My thought at getting my first comment was, "I can't believe someone actually read my blog!!" And then I'd get return visits and therefore more comments.

A really strange thought, too, is that I could cross paths with people who know some of what I'm thinking and I would never know. I'm not even sure how to describe what I feel about that. That person I lock eyes with for a millisecond, walking down the street, could know some of my deepest thoughts. He/she may even have talked to me about it.

WEIRD!

why?

Why don't the images always appear? Is it some weird thing with the site I've put them on? I've only seen it here once.

Anyway, there's a link on the right for anyone who's interested. They're awesome and kaleidoscope-y. I like kaleidoscopes. I really like the ones that make crazy images of everything around me.

fractal images, finally

firecracker

alien desert

i miss you

i miss you i miss you i miss you. i think this may make me sound weak, but honestly, i'm described as strong by most. but here, i choose to be weak. i miss you more than i have in a while. i wish you were here, listening to music, watching clips, laughing, reading together. i want to think of you and wonder why you did that really nice thing you did today, despite knowing why. i miss your hugs and hugging you. i miss late night visits and snacks and silliness. i miss hearing you say you'd like for me to keep you company. i miss you calling me and saying something that so obviously lets me know you care. i miss the door closing and the knock on my door that came so often that i knew it was you. i miss the small moments when i knew how you felt and i'm pretty sure you knew how i felt. i miss your energy. i miss how excited you get when you're hearing an awesome track. i miss your cooking. i miss your imagination and being closer to it than most. i miss how difficult you can be and then how you can admit to it later. i miss you on my couch. i miss that time we talked, heads close, on your bed and you asked me a question---it was so comfortable, simply nice. i had no thoughts, except what we were talking about at the time. i miss you spinning me around in the most incomprehensible dance ever. i miss cartoon e-mails and inside jokes. i miss making others feel like we had a loop only we two shared. i miss cooking for you. i miss the thoughtful things you did to make my day easier and brighter. i miss the sunlight in my room as we smiled. i miss how you told me i look good. i miss you looking good, looking tired, looking depressed, looking sleepy, being grumpy, being silly, looking thoughtful. i miss you writing essays. i miss you hugging me around my shoulders. i miss the extended looks we gave each other, jokingly, or for that special reason. i miss eating with you. i miss sponge bob with you. i miss walking with you. i miss feeling like we're falling.

i miss you. i miss you so much. i really want you here. and today, i didn't even picture whether i'd prefer him in that role, doing that. the thought came, but for the first time, i didn't care to put him in your place. i wanted you there. want you here. please be here.

i need you unnecessarily.