My name is Daniel.
I am a human, but you know that, of course. Why would you expect me to be any different? You wouldn’t, no questions asked. That’s just the way it is. We’re all humans here; that makes perfect sense.
But what if we’re not? The universe is staggeringly vast! Why all the empty space? Neither Creationism nor Darwinism has opposed the possibility of extra-terrestrial life-forms. They do not verify the existence of such things, either, but instead, lend to the possibility. The mere possibility is there, just the glimmer of hope, in both beliefs, and that is something they’ve never disagreed on. Furthermore, both show how possible such a feat can be, and how relatively easy considering the processes. First, Darwinism gives rise to “survival of the fittest”, a theory of evolution which exists in day-to-day life regardless of the truth or untruth behind its source. Creationism, meanwhile, states that the whole universe was created in seven days, with a specific focus on our own Earth and what lived on it. In the Bible, anyone can read (nowadays) that there are clearly other life-forms which we may or may not see. Angels and Demons are not necessarily space-craft faring creatures, but by the mere definition of the word, they are in fact aliens: extra-terrestrial beings. So by that we can safely assume that other life exists other than on our planet (how shamefully prideful that we should think the stars were created merely for our pleasure)!
Science aside, I feel in my heart that there are other things out there. Are they friend or foe? Advanced or Neolithic? Humanoid or otherwise? Bi-pedal, Quadra-pedal; do they fly or swim? Can they breathe what we can, or do they breathe at all? So many questions, and no answers. Just Human curiosity and Human supposition and all those other things which lend so easily to error.
It has been said that “Curiosity killed the cat”, but the personification of such a thing can only have one of two meanings: The cat was too slow to learn from his mistakes, or that Man, being feeble, has cleverly attempted to impede his own growth in exchange for longevity.
My brain hurts these days.
And my heart hurts.
And I can’t seem to find the answers to the questions I have. Nor can I find the rest I’ve needed for far too long. I find myself falling in love with the impossible, but how impossible is what I love, if I can love it at all?
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Lullaby
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Christmastime Again
Merry Christmas... -- The Christmas Song, Michael Bublé
Like the paradoxes found commonly around the life of the Doctor, I awoke this morning to find season four of "Doctor Who" underneath my tree. I had been convinced (due mostly in part to the BBC America's advertisement that I should reserve the box now) that the box set of said season wouldn't be available until early next year! What a wonderful Christmas, indeed! The best part about all this is that today before I sat down to write this out, I watched the episode which doesn't air until Saturday: The Unicorn and the Wasp! How fantastic is that? Very, that's how.
I'm still working on what I set out to do, but it seems I've been able to keep somewhat close to the line I drew for myself. It's been difficult, I won't lie, but I don't think it will be too hard. At the same time, not knowing the exact parameters for such an event, I've got quite the job cut out for me to stay within the bounds.
In other news, I awoke first thing this morning to a wonderful message from my best friend about the day, and I knew it would be a good day. Although, I do have to start working on my list of possible resolutions. I do have this one I've made every year since I've started writing, but I've never really been able to see it through. I wonder if I'll be able to do that this time around? I hope that Christmas is finding all of you in a better place than you've been, and I hope that it is as wonderful for you as it surprisingly has been for me. All my love, dear friends, and best wishes.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Doors
I had made my decision, and I knew it wouldn't be pretty the next day. After not sleeping enough, I got myself up and got to work on time and did the whole "cheery work kid" ordeal. It wasn't so hard, mostly because I was feeling better about how things were about to be going, but before I got done with work that day, the girl came through and I didn't even look at her hardly at all. She got the picture. I didn't say anything mean, and I didn't glare at her, I just didn't acknowledge her more than for someone I didn't know, and it was hard, and it hurt, and it was exactly the sort of thing I had been avoiding for so long.
It occurred to me then that I hadn't quite decided how to go about this new change in my life. Sure, when something like this happens, the original reaction is just to separate yourself from it all, and not have contact with anyone. That makes sense, but what if you can't? And that's how it was.
It came to the point where I went home and did all the chores I had to do and then went back up to work to give some scarves to a co-worker for Christmas, and she was there again. In the silent spaces when we were left alone, she looked at me and lit a cigarette.
"Hey," she said cautiously, "are you okay?"
I grunted noncommitally.
"Are you... mad at me?" She said the last words slowly, and I was shocked to hear there was a sort of fear in her voice as they came out. I turned my gaze toward her for the first time, and looked her in the eyes.
"Since you're asking: Yes, I am."
And we entered into the conversation where she made her point, and I mine. She apologised for having such bad timing, but was glad she was a catalyst for such a change in my life. At the same time, she didn't want to go down on the wrong side, because she felt she didn't deserve to be cut down with the rest of them. I told her she was right, and after all I had said in the previous blog, I couldn't help but think about all the instances in which she'd proved herself to me as a wonderful close friend over and over. The problem was, and I told her so, I couldn't manage to separate her from the event, and I really didn't want to lose her at all. Well, in the end we both gave our apologies, and I invited her to hang out with Itz and myself that night. She said okay, and we went on as though nothing had changed.
I'm still not sure how this is all going to go about, but I do know who is to be there after it is all said and done. At any rate, wish me luck.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
This Could Be A Brand New Start
Be still my heart,
This could be a brand new start... -- Be Still My Heart, The Postal Service
I've had a long day. I've been up for the past 16+ hours. I'm happy to report, though, that as soon as I got done with a few things that I found after work, I went straight home and passed out on the couch for about an hour. It was hard to rouse myself from that, and do some more work-related things, but once I got off the couch, I found I could move about more easily, and I turned on some of Bourdain (whom I love), and I got to work on studying up on some of the things I've got to learn for work. I felt pretty accomplished, and even set about writing down some new ideas for my book I've been working on, and hopefully that will all hit paper within the next day or so.
I'm not too excited about tomorrow, but I think it could go by fast. Another 4am-er, and then I get to run to my old apt and pack up a few things. I think books and clothes should be good for this trip. That will make me feel more accomplished for Saturday's (hopefully) final move of everything I've got. My parent's won't be too happy or supportive of the action (they're Seventh Day Adventists), but I've got to get to work on this. Well, actually, I do need their help, so I might just wait on that whole part. It would be nice though... at any rate, I think I'll at least get finished moving the spare articles and discovering more of myself along the way.
I've decided to do some soul searching, as per the title of this new entry. It started about a week or so ago when I realised that for not the first time in my life, I'm having trouble putting myself at the forefront of... well, my life. I wasn't quite sure what to do about it, and just for that reason I sank into a mild depression. No, nothing severe enough to lose weight over (damnit), but severe enough that it has shook my foundations of belief again. I think this sort of thing will keep happening until I'm where I'm supposed to be and am finally okay with who I am as a person. It's nothing serious, and I think it's actually quite beneficial and healthy, especially since it doesn't happen all that often. Anyway, on to the point: I've decided to perform a sort of "slash and burn" of my relationships and rearrange what I do. I've been sort of talking to my friend Sarah about it all, and she's been there when she could, which is nice. I've also had some intriguing input from my brother, and from a random acquaintance-might-soon-be-friend who comes into my work a lot (she's so sweet: Camila).
This all ties together like this:
I was finishing up my work studies when I got this text message from a girl about how she's going to have a yard sale with a mutual friend this Saturday, and she wanted to know if she could borrow my tables (the ones we use at art walk). I was shocked at myself at how angry I was over this message. It's innocent enough, really, but when she told me she was going to have a yard sale with a different mutual friend in the past, I told her I would love to contribute, and that we needed to do it soon. That was a month ago, and every time I asked her, she just said she didn't know when it would happen and that she needed to get to work on that. Well, here we are several weeks later and she's having one with someone else right out of the blue, and doesn't even ask me if I want to join in. It may seem to you, reader, that this reaction is the immediate napalm result of the mere idea of a dying ember, but there has been a plethora of interesting events involving these people all around that have just been setting up for an explosion of such immense grandeur that in reality it's something to which you should nod slightly in acknowledgment of and mutter how "It's about time" under your breath.
All this thought took no more than a minute to run through my head, and I responded deftly with flat "no". No questions asked before; no questions afterward. Then I made the decision. Rather chain-quest style: "good, you've done this; oh and look here now, here are your new options -- and you thought the future was so dim and hopeless." But there is a catch. I have to rearrange my relationships in a way that benefits me, and that means stranger-danger. That response was the first "selfish" thing I've done in a long time, and it felt good. I have no regrets, and if it's asked of me, I'm ready to say "no," again, and that "it's time I help me out instead of you [all], who do nothing to pay me in return except in your cold insincerities." All is not lost, though. I sent a message to Sarah -- a rather long and wordy one -- about what was about to happen, and I apologised if she got hurt in it, but told her it wasn't my intention and also that I loved her still, and asked if she would be there after I came through the other side.
There was a pause in the conversation, but she said yes and that she supports me in this even if she doesn't understand what is going on at the time. I've said it before, but I can't begin to explain how much I appreciate it.
So, long-winded and forthwith, there you have it, and I shall leave you to it as I've a long day ahead of me.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
In Days
I realise it's been days since I've made an actual post -- weeks, even. Let's face it. My excuse is the same as it always is: I've been busy. Sure, work is one thing, and free time another, and I seem to blend the two while using a secret skill where I avoid doing anything truly productive. Blogging? It's practice! I practice my writing here, which... well, which I might use someday?
Although, it does seem lately, when I do write, I can't seem to think of what it was that made me sit down and say "ah-ha!" Like it doesn't matter anymore, but at the moment it had occurred to me, it had seemed so profound. Everyone will love to hear this! It's so profound, I thought to myself.
Of course it's not. Of course it isn't important enough to remember. I have been working a lot lately. That makes sense. Perhaps that in itself is the issue; not that I have been working, but that I have been using that as an excuse to not write what I have in mind? Perhaps...
There's a boy at work with whom I've grown particularly angry. Annoyed might be the better choice though. He has been found hypocritical in his work by more people than myself, and that includes the manager. It gets better. I may be there to see his direct undoing, and rejoice in stepping up onto his newly vacated throne. That sounds terrible, and it is. It's as terrible as I can make it out to be, because there's no soft way of saying it. When a branch is dead, cut it off. At any rate, it may not be me if it does happen, and it may not happen at all, but I do hope it does, and I know I'm not the only one.
Thursday, December 04, 2008
Working For It
Soakin' up the sun
He is a real lover of makin' up the past... -- Daydreamer, Adele
I was having a conversation with :iconstudpup: recently and it came upon finances and why I'm stuck in Texas right now, instead of on the West Coast. He agreed that everyone needed to work on finances, and that keeping goals for getting away in our minds was a good thing.
I agree with him; of course I do. But... The big issue is that I feel like everyone else is getting these experiences and I'm not, and that they just keep going and doing their own thing and that I'm stuck doing this one thing that I don't particularly like!
I want to be able to go across the world and visit foreign lands and see sites and be at peace and truly feel like a working cog in the contraption of life, Earth, and the universe... but I haven't been able to. Recently (like last night) an issue came up between a couple of friends and I about how they are going to Chicago to visit a dear friend, whom I've wanted to visit since he left... I felt jealous and hurt... Why, though; I've asked myself that, and what I should have done, though my reaction of "Wow, I hate you guys; Merry Christmas" seemed appropriate, and got the point across... I got invited, and everyone is even okay with the whole event, but still... I don't want to just up and leave and drop all my fiscal responsibilities on the floor while I'm gone. At the same time, and this is a very big issue for me, I don't want to not be there celebrating New Years with my friends. And I do miss Will (the one who lives in Chicago) so very much. I don't want to be that douche-bag who isn't going... I don't want to be the douche-bag who is, either.
I can't begin to explain how very much it pains me to have to even consider such a choice... I know what I should do for myself; I know what is right for me. But, for the conversation's sake: what should I do?
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Neologism
I've been well known for creating my own set of words for things that I think are real words. Another way to describe this is malapropism. I think it's a healthy learning experience that many people face, but many are afraid to point out to them, or that the misuser of modern language is afraid of his- or herself. One reason is that such a common mistake can be connected to Psychiatric diseases such as thought disorder or schizophrenia. While I'm pretty sure I don't have either of those, I do find the possibility enlightening (haha... yeah... intended).
All that aside, I've found this page which I think you might enjoy reading. I know I did. I used the word super-objective in a poem I wrote as a kid, and I was certain I'd heard the term before, though I suppose it was just entering its Unstable stage, and quite rare. I can't recall where it was I picked it up, however I'm proud to pass it on.
http://www.illiante.com/SuperobjectiveEvil.aspx
Monday, November 10, 2008
Problems
Well, even the best fall down sometimes,
And even the stars refuse to shine... -- Collide, Howie Day
I've some time on my hands, and the majority of that has been spent wondering what to do with it. I see things that I need to do if I want to advance in my life, and I see things that I'd like to do for fun, as well as things that could help me with the advancement. Of course, what do I choose but the fun, and not the business. Perhaps I should grow a mullet? At least then I'd be putting business first.
....
No. That's a terrible thought. Forgive me for speaking it aloud.
I do find myself, still, having trouble concentrating on the task at hand, whether it be writing a few poems for Literary Journals to publish, or writing a few pages in my stories to get done with what needs to be done. And why? What is the deal with my priorities? I like them the way they are, sure, but whenever I get off work, all I can seem to want to do is lounge about and play video games. I've been able to keep away from the computer and television for some amount of time, lately, though it becomes a problem when I want to write, and by the time I get on my computer to do so, I go and get distracted by the game link nearby. Perhaps I should do away with it all together? Or perhaps not... let us not get too hasty, now, eh?
Just an excerpt from my livejournal.com blog. I've way too many of these things to manage, but I haven't quite decided what to do with all of them yet. I know I'd like to keep my xanga. That one is for poetry at least. This one I've kept about for the in-and-out drama of life in general, and for dreams, though I've not done much of either of those for you guys here lately. I suppose I should get to work on fixing this issue, or at least the problem with writing more. I figure if I can fix that desire, then at least I'll be back into the habit, and that's all I really need, right? I hope so.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
The Battleground
I get high like planes -- Paper Planes, M.I.A.
I find it odd that the local popular coffee-locale is the current battleground in the war waged between the Pious and the Gay. Perhaps not openly, and perhaps not even openly to either faction, though it remains quite obvious to the workers and "conscientious" observers that the two side vie laudably for space both inside and out; and the glares and side-ways glances from one front line to the next shout the subconscious feeling loudly.
Other than the war in Morality, there is the war in my own life of duty. I've a lot to do on my plate, and I've recently come by the time to do it, by way of quitting my serving job. Sure, I know what you're thinking, and believe you me, I'm thinking the same thing as well. However, and quite unexpectedly I might add, I've recently been conscripted to create several articles of clothing for those very same Neutrals at the coffee locale. I'm content with that. Therefore, not working as much, and deciding what I get to do with all the unadulterated free time I am now allotted, is something I'm feel I'm growing quite enamored with. I should hate to lose it so quickly. Though I mustn't complain, should it ever occur, for it is as they say: "Like sand through the hourglass". Or, do they say that?
True enough, I'll soon find myself picking up more hours in the long run, looking to turn my golden time into some form of splendor more profitable, especially when it comes time to pay the bills.
So good night from me, and a good night, indeed.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Another 9/11
So this picture to the left of me is from Dattebayo.com -- the best place for fansubbed material, insofar as it is what they choose to work on, which happens to correspond to what I like to watch... ah, I digress. The point is, it's from there, and you can clearly see their icon in the picture (note red circle). I thought the picture was keen and well-placed, as it can be seen in the upper-left-hand side of their main page.
I know what you must be thinking: "How uncouth!" But allow me to present to you their journal over the subject: "DB Celebrates the Passing of Another 9/11".
So think on that, and be happy, and realize that we've all grown a little in the past 7 years.
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
The Weather Outside
I bought an old home in Del Rio... -- So-So, Brooke Waggoner
I've been back from the race and the subsequent vacation for a couple days now, working every step of the way. Though, when I was lucky enough to find some off-time, and not being doing errands, I spent my time resting up and trying to recover the state of my health.
Today has been a wonderful experience. I went to bed early, I slept in late, and I feel great compared to what it has been. The weather outside when I rose was somewhat dark and cloudy, and I could tell by my few furtive glances through the window-blinds that there was a soft and gentle music resonating sweetly on the wind. I do have to work tonight, and that makes me sad, somewhat, but mostly because of the weather outside. I had figured that by the time I got around to walking out to work, I would find a wave of heat rising up to greet me, but instead it has just been clean, cool air rustling a playful hand through my hair.
Perhaps I should be happy that the weather is finally turning, and that for once, it seems the seasons might turn in the old fashion they used when I was a child? Still, it does rub me wrongly that I have to go in and work on a beautiful afternoon like this. It's not often that the heart of Texas sees such beautiful weather...
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Alive
The air is alive with a subtle humidity: a warm and vibrant mist permeates the atmosphere of the city I grew up in...
In the middle of the night, I awoke to the sound of rolling thunder, crashing violently overhead. Several times, it seemed as though the lightning struck the ground outside my window, as I figured from the intensely bright light and the loud sharp crack akin to gunfire. It sounded uncomfortable. It sounded angry, and even at times it sounded joyful. Though through it all, in all its mixed emotions, I couldn't fall back asleep for long; it almost seemed as though the world was trying to tell me something.
At work today I waited to go, and I stood just inside the doorway to the patio. The juniper tree across the parking lot shuddered with joy in the ambiguous breeze, it's dark earthly colours clashing strongly and even endearingly against the bright yellow and dull kaolin-clay gray of the building's exterior. It seemed to say "hello" to a world that it had long-since grown bored with, and who could blame it? This town has done a lot to me; as I'm sure to any other person. To see it in the weather we have today is almost like falling into a world and time completely different form our own land-locked landscape. I could even feel the direction of the earth's rotation changing, and then I faced the East, and the sun was on it's way to setting across the deep lagoon of a harbour less than 50 miles away. I felt I could stand out in the weather as the gentle precipitation which came and went periodically returned, and as it fell softly on my forehead and shoulders, I could be transformed into that child that loved this kind of weather more than anything, and laughter would all but overcome my riddled, aching heart and mind...
But perhaps that is wishing for too much?
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Boku wa...
“Why is this man here?”
-- excerpt, personal writings
I don't think I am a good person.
I don't like who I am. I've stated that, before, and you've read it, before, as well.
I think...
I think I am not confident enough in who I am.
I don't much like others--can't seem to stand them long enough when I don't see something in them I really like.
Then again, there's those people I do "really like", but for some reason, I end up ignoring everything about them that could hurt me until it does so multiple times. And even though I've known this for a couple years, I've not been able to change that. Sure, I have been able to reduce the amount of time it takes for me to realize whether a person I see as "good" has a "bad" side or not... but it hasn't seemed to help much in the long run.
A thousand words rush to mind, an even to the heart of my tongue, when I think of all the things I want to say. I've not said much, lately, but what I have said, I wonder if perhaps they weren't the best words I could have used. And, then again, I never have been good at public speaking...
All I can think to say... I'm sorry, and I'm sorry for that.
I can try to be different the next time. I can. And I will. I want to wake up and be a different person. A better person; someone you or anyone likes to be around. Perhaps, I could see it this way, this new leaf could be a testament to who I am going to be? And, in so many words, that's that! That's it! That's what I want! I want to be different! I want to wake each day and know that what had happened in the past is not what has define me in any way but the way I want!
And so, I want to look at it and say, "I'm not going to do this, anymore" and "I've tried this, I've been through this--why do it again? Let's find a different route!"
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
On the Stand
More mutters grew from the crowd—-mutters of shame and piety as all but a few hands moved in the shape of the Cross. -- excerpt, personal writings
Many times in the life of an individual are things done that he immediately regrets; yet nothing can be said for the past. It is what it is, and it defines who we are. What he can do, however, is take what he has left in his hand of that crumbling dream and piece it together into something more bearable.
I am quickly approaching that age where the person I have become will no longer be able to change. I've seen it already. I've experienced things that I would to God I had not, and I've said and done things which I've wished with all my being, some even while they were happening, that they had and were not. What a pitiful soul I've become! What a wretch of existence, I tell myself. And all the same, is it not a self-curse? Has it not been one broken dream after another that has lead me to such a poor existence? What can I say for myself, except that I hate it all. I hate me, and what I stand for, and what I don't stand for, even.
I hate the who I've become, and the who I've not ever had a chance to be. I hate the lies I've told, and the loves I've sold. I hate the people who've broken me, and the me who's broken people.
I detest to the core of me, and yet there is not one way into that shining city; there is not one small crack in its silver walls that will let that hatred consume me wholly. And I hate that even more.
I hate that I have to say I'm sorry, and I hate that I can't bring myself to it. I hate that anyone could forgive me so easily, and I hate more that I can't forgive myself.
I hate that I lost you, so long ago, that I didn't say anything, and that I don't know still if anything would have saved you. I hate that I never tried, in the least, and I hate that, even now, I'm still losing. I hate that: losing. I can't stand what it does to a person. I can't stand what it tears from the very soul, those shards of innocence that even my own self-hate can't glean victoriously.
So all in all, I hate myself for not being the person I could be, and also for failing to rise to the occasion.
Give me another chance, and forgive me my misgivings. I'll try again for the love that I lost so carelessly years before, and I'll try again to laugh. You whom I know now are a new caretaker. You are a new friend, a new chance, a new beginning; so water me with love and understanding, and I will grow to the tree that shades you, and others, in the desert sun.
Sunday, July 06, 2008
Now
No need to think it over
If I'm wrong, I ain't right... -- Chasing Pavements, Adele
That's the hardest part.
I can feel her eyes on me as I walk between the cars; eyes revealing a mind and spirit far too old for her young, subtle frame. The clove burning in my hand is more of a binding for me than it had been in the past -- something to keep me from wandering too far in idle fancies; like a tether 'bout my neck it keeps me grounded where I ought to be.
Living for the now... it's not easy for people like us. I reply. We hug and part ways: life holds too much to remain idle.
There are too many things we, as humans -- myself in particular, and even her, think about. Too much wends easily into our daily thoughts and aspirations; we cannot hold our own for too long before we lose what little concentration we'd managed and find our spirits and minds flying off to join our hearts in the fluffy-cloud pocked blue sky.
Each day I've had to remind myself somehow of what it is to live for the "now". I've not been able to keep it in mind for very long, too much to worry about... Is it truly possible for one to be so ignorant to History and all his lessons? Each day is just a new possible way for the myriad of events that began the day before to change or continue or even end, though not many do that. What we learn one day, what we experience one day, should these things not influence the who we are of the next? And how, then, can anyone be expected to live only in the now, not once longing for the days of their youth, when the decisions they had made then were more carefree, and should dire consequence rear its ugly head, there would be time yet for preparation? Despite appearances, things are fine; despite appearances, things couldn't be worse. That is the constant state of life for most people at this turning point in their years. It's arguable that it could be the long-lasting effects of the psyche, the unchangeable inner personality that molds the outward representation of our spirits, still hold sway at even this age, beyond most stages of maturation. I would to God fight on the side of the opposition: Let me decide with my own mind who I am going to be! Let me Fight! Let me see everything as a Challenge and not back down, no matter how hurt I get!
And please, most of all, let me stop worrying about things so insignificant, for they only cause more pain in the quiet hours, and beleaguer me in the waking ones.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Maybe
and the clouds will blow away...
Maybe I won't feel so gray... -- Either Way, WILCO
It is not without difficulty, I admit it, to learn new skills after a certain age. While I myself have not yet reached that age physically, I do wonder if there is a certain emotional/mental side to the equation that none have yet discussed before? It seems plausible, at any rate.
What I've been having to do is learn all over again how to rate relationships in my heart. What do I hold to be true? What do I hold to be false? Not much, on the latter; too much on the former. I can't differentiate in my head who should be in what position... I expect a lot from my closest friends, but I never get what I want. I think I expect what I give. And if that's the case, then why give it at all, since I've been proven time and time again to be wrong?
I suppose a lot of the case revolves on what means a lot to me: birthdays, friendships, work, school... religion, even. My whole life, growing up and now, these things have been less than what they should, and therefore when one comes along, I want it to be enough to make up for what I'd lost as a younger person. Birthdays for both myself and others are very important to me. Friendships mean a lot to me, because my first real friend didn't occur until I reached the 8th grade...
I'm trying to make sense of it all, believe me, I'm trying... but it hurts to be alone.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Ripples
I cannot imagine a better way to describe the way we see things other than that they are most usually ripples of some other event in the world. One thing spawns another, and so forth, until its cause-and-effect relationship on the world slowly fades to nothing due to resistance and distance. There are ways to foresee these events, as though they were whispers in the wind about them before hand, or like seeing a forest of animals flee before a terrible disaster strikes. There are many of us in the world that are granted the ability to foresee events, allowed to view one possible outcome of the place and the how a disturbance affects the waters around us...
Though none could ever know for sure whether what they saw was only a mere possibility, or just an easily acceptable formation of events created by our souls in conjunction with our minds for our hearts to understand more readily. That is, if we are not too ignorant of the warnings.
A while ago, a friend had a dream, where he and his brother had to kill one of their dogs. After deciding which, and how, they did it, and even though the dog appeared in the dream later, it was never the same. When he awoke, the dog, even then, shied away from him the whole day, refusing to go near him, even for food. As soon as I was told this story, I knew which dog, and how, and what it all meant, and though I wasn't sure what to say, I kept it in my mind, waiting for the day that it would come to pass, if ever; I find it safe to say that he had any knowledge, or could barely even grasp its true definition as well as I had. When I asked a close friend for advice, I was told not to say a word, and that should the occasion ever arise, mostly for the small possibility that it mightn't, I could share that information with the Dreamer then, having well-earned the right and the experience of fact. The time I was told the dream was the second-to-last time I saw the Dreamer.
The last was a chance invitation, only because, I think, he answered his phone and I was drawn out to him. It now seems to me that having this experience, I was able to have learned information I had until then merely wondered about, but that's another story about love and intrigue and dishonesty. This was the last time I saw this person. I knew at that point, that the dream, which I had interpreted as a devastating blow to his and my relationship, had already passed beyond any recoverable state, and would continue in a downward motion like the falling of a guillotine. It wasn't until last night that I could truly and honestly confirm this.
I was wandering toward the register at the local Wal-mart and about to leave when the Dreamer appeared; he seemed casual, but there were already too many factors involved in the meeting to join in his atmosphere. Throughout the conversation I couldn't even look at him -- I couldn't bring my eyes to him! And I couldn't understand why. I was angry and confused and scared and hurt most of all, and it wasn't working out well. When Laura told me we had to go, I immediately turned and walked off, paid, and waited kindly for her while facing the other direction. She wasn't too long in the coming. Once I reached the car, and that in itself was laborious, I broke. I grew so angry tears rushed down my face and my breathing grew haggard; it was a while before I could move to turn the car on and drive home safely.
If there is anything I regret, I regret not punching him square in the face for all he'd done to me. Laura told me she didn't care for people as much as I did, and that I should harden myself to things like this. "If he doesn't get it, then it's not worth it," she told me, but I still have a year wasted. I still have a heart wasted; I still have my soul, my money, and my time wasted, and I am here stuck in Texas again mostly for the Dreamer. The one who warned me without knowing.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
It's Trying
Waiting for the light to come back,
But hid in talk I knew,
Until you asked what I was thinking -- Remind Me, Röyksopp
I'm trying, I'm trying, I know, but I never said this would be easy; no one said this would be easy, and it's not.
Changing who you live for is something that has brought more people trouble in History than most other things. It can lead to an array of situations varying from different paths on the way home to right out Revolution. Change the world, they say, and it will be yours. Build it, they whisper, and they will come, but who do you listen to?
I spend a lot of my time at home now, for various reasons -- resting, making the most of what I'm spending my money on, saving the money I should be spending on my apartment/bills/savings for school... Though the thoughts still do haunt my every waking hour; things like where am I going to go to school, who should I be talking to, I wish there was someone to talk to, am I still living for someone else, why do I feel stupid about all this, I wonder if I'm making it up, I bet I'm making it up, I'm hungry, I'm poor, do I have enough gas to get to my parents, do I have enough time for that, no, I should just stay at home, I wish I had someone to talk to that wasn't Laura, I love Laura, but she's always on my couch, I need a guy friend, what's that noise, I wish this place didn't suck, I want to go camping, I should ask off to go camping, I'm supposed to go camping soon, I wish I had someone to talk to... what's that freaking noise?!
Fun, in its own way, I suppose, but there are a lot of things wrong with that I wish didn't come with the package of who I was. I may make believe on the outside that I'm okay with all the things that go on around me and without me, but I do have a habit of over-thinking. I'm working on breaking that, because it's not who I'm supposed to be, nor is it who I was raised to be.
Things should be just the way you see them, and no more than that. I can't worry about what I don't know, and I can't live in the mold the past has caste me in, it's far too small for me anymore. I will break free.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Something To Say
There is something to say about life, and how it abounds in its many myriad possibilities.
There is also something to say about how the things we expect never quite turn out the way we want them to. I'm writing about this now, because it hasn't been until now that I've felt better about this new path my life has been taking for well near a year or so. Also, because I haven't been quite sure as to whether or not it really is an entirely new path, or just the repetitious view of a possible tangent I continually ignore as I continue around the same small circle, thinking "Oh! What is that out there?" and "I think I've seen this before...."
I like the second one, and it seems more true that in the past, I've constantly ignored hoped vainly that what I could view more and more clearly in the distance was the place I needed to be; to embark upon some strange new adventure and finally leaving behind what redundant events and friendships constantly beleaguering my tired mind and body... I think it scared me. No, I know it scared me, and I feel confident in saying (if only in this) that I am still scared about the concept.
For the past several years, I've suffered one bad relationship after another. And when I use the word "relationship", I don't mean it in the casual "free-sex" way that people so often associate it with today. It's a general term; just to prove my statement: when put in Dictionary.com, the word "relationship" brings up four varied entries. First and foremost is "a connection, association, or involvement"; last, and hopefully soon-to-be more least, "a sexual involvement, affair".
This all being clearly established, and backed by facts, I move to close:
I can't begin to express how frustrating it has been. What a tired and draining trip through life, and the circle, though small, is still only a circle, and I wish I had found a more viable exit than I had before. Each year, after having friends, I have lost them, one at a time or sometimes in groups, but always after a year. What is it in me that isn't stable enough to supply their desires? Is it me? Is it them? What is it.
While I cannot be entirely sure, I think it's time I put the past behind me. I don't think it's healthy to rely on the crutch of "ever since he died..." any longer, and so, with that, I make my steps for me, and not for anyone else. If God should come up in my life again, perhaps I can believe Him, and what He has to offer, because I won't be doing it for anyone else, but myself...
And hold me to this, O readers! for it is easier said than done.
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
In View
While browsing along the web one day, I ran across this Frenchman's Blog. At least, I think he's French. At any rate, I believe he lives in Cannes and speaks English wonderfully. Or at least types it. His name is Marisacat, and I insist everyone to read his stuff -- it's uplifting and eye-opening all in the same. The point of this is to say, well, that is one of the points, but this is another: while reading through the back-commentary of one of his most recent posts, I discovered a rather disgruntled American individual e-named Madman in the Marketplace. I, for some reason, am inexorably drawn toward his rants concerning the every deteriorating (though already quite thoroughly tainted) State of the Union.
While I'm not quite sure how I feel about these particular subjects, I quite enjoy getting the chance to see an opposite opinion from inside the country paired with an outside one. While the latter, Marisacat, does a wonderful job at discussing politics and life from a more broader spectrum, the author does take time to point out what is going on in our country, as our Imperialist hands have wriggled their fat, little fingers into most everyone's honey pots. Here is an example of what has been said about the Presidential Races:
Enjoyable.
As for Madman, I've taken it upon myself to write him a letter in E-mail, but he has not yet responded, which is fine, though I wish to hear his opinion on what I've written. The message was spurred when I read his comment on this entry from Marisacat's concerning Democrats, voters and the 2008 elections, and a chair in the shape of a pony. The comment he left, however, was not related in almost any way save disgruntled populace routinely filed away under Opinions in the form of an Editorial. I'd quote what Frank Rich said, but Madman in the Marketplace already gave him the credit (third or fourth comment), and I somewhat deplore redundancy. So, until such action is returned, I take my time and leave to learn about this day in History, for the Montgolfier Brothers and air balloons.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Memorial
I learned today that my cat, Sushi, is gone, and has been for about a week. He stays with my parents out in the country. Several new houses are being built here and there along the empty roads; my mother says she likes to think that someone just took him up and took him home -- he was always such a loving cat.
Times have been rough, to say the least. I think a lack of rest has been eating away at my soul; add that to the myriad of problems I've been presented with lately and it seems to be a good mixture for trouble.
The people who come in and out of my life are like shooting stars. Flashstars, I've heard them called once upon a time. They appear for a brief moment in time, and shine brightly as they move across the night sky before fading away and being no more. The things I've heard from the casual strangers I've had run-ins with lately have been ecstatic exclamations of euphoria for the most part, along with a casual "it's good to see you," and even the promising prophecy has reared its ugly head.
It's been trouble enough just trying to keep my own head on my shoulders, and not worry about what the rest of the world is doing. Then again, those of you who know more about me know that is one of my problems. For now, finding rest and balance is on the top of my list... or as high as I feel its safe to put it.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Living Without You
There's nothing changing. -- New Resolution, Azure Ray
Hang in there.
Plain and simple. Somehow the words from the lips of my best friend have more healing power than those from another man's mouth. Even from my own. Perhaps being around him, and feeling the love reverberate between us finally set into motion the stale waters of my soul, and now the continuing ripples are growing steadily into waves that can carry my heart to a new land... or perhaps it was the timing. There seems to be timing for everything...
- We want you to be a pall-bearer. Her words hit me hard. I couldn't comprehend what that meant at that moment, but "yes" escaped my mouth, and a few days later, I could see how important it was to them, who they were -- the people carrying their oldest son into the beyond. But I had already cried so much that summer. The wells in my eyes had long since dried up for all the pain and sorrow. I felt honored. I felt scared. I felt unsure about what it would mean, but I looked forward to it as it grew closer day by day.
When I arrived at the church, it was raining. Not the heavy downpour that normally accompanies extreme sorrow, but the constant drizzle that one thinks should happen on a day that is filled with circumstance and duty. We carried his coffin through the heavy oak doors and down the long isle lined with teary eyes and padded pews. Inside the young children dressed in robes of white paced here and there in accordance with some religious ceremony to which I had never been privy to, and the organs played a mellow tune. The voices that called out the last statements were dull and uninteresting, but they spoke to us, and many cried, though I could scarcely shed a tear. I had a headache, I couldn't quite believe it was still happening: his birthday was a week away, I told myself as though it would bring him back.
When it was all over, we advanced to the front and stood around his vessel and though there were a few too many to us -- it did mean a lot to his parents -- we escorted his body back past the rows of people. I avoided their eyes as much as possible, gripping tightly to the brass railing on my side of the box. I was one of only three people to see him as he was now. I tried not to think of it. Once outside, the rain had stopped, and puddles were sitting here and there as we approached the hearse. And like a sign from God, as soon as we loaded the coffin inside, the clouds parted and the sun shone in bright comforting rays here and there. They grew and gathered together as the hearse drove away to wherever it was going. I was never sure if he was going to be burried or burned, but when I took my last glance at the grandiose Anglican chapel before I drove away, it made a scene much like the ones from paintings: the bell tower rose high above the rest of the arches and flying buttresses and the sun filtered through the clouds behind it with a rosy golden hue, and it was alright.
Friday, May 16, 2008
A Fragment of Memory
Some things take a lot longer to work its way out of your system. Alcohol takes a couple hours. Food poisoning takes about a day. Inhaled toxins can take several days. Love can take a lifetime. One of those powerful life lessons I've never managed to get the hang of, living with lost love is more painful than laying on your back in ICU with countless tubes and needles maintaining your every bodily function.
You need to get your priorities straight.
A line I've heard from my father on more than one occasion.
You care too much for others.
If I spin through the old reels of memories I've kept in the back of mind mind, I can still come across one spool of film I'd given quite a bit more attention to when I stored it than the rest, which tend to be scattered here and there across a dusty cabinet and onto the floor. This one I'd run my fingers over pensively for a few brief moments before slipping the clean metal casing open and breathing in the fumes of another time. These days I stop and think to myself how often I'd done this. It strikes me as odd in the way that I thought myself over the events it contains. I thought I could finally move on and not wonder about the "what ifs" and the "then whats".
The man in those pictures; the people that were around us, and the things that happened to us have affected me in more than one way. In fact, I am a completely different person from who I surely would have become had it not been for his presence in my life. Surely, anyone could say that for anyone at all. But it's what happened in the end of the time we had together that changed me the most...
- The hallways twisted in ways I couldn't follow, and after several complicated turns we found ourselves in a darkened passage. The first opening on the left was without any door save the typical thick curtain common in hospitals; beneath it a thick line of austere light reflected off the patterned tiled floors. I hesitated before I followed the other two beyond its wavering boundaries. I closed my eyes and took a breath to calm the already rapid beat of my heart, and couldn't help but wish it were more like the resounding beeps in the distance, too slow to be life-giving. I allowed the pressure of the now-empty hall give me the strength to follow the others into the room.
On a bed in the corner, amidst a web of wires and tubes anchored here and there by machines and monitors of varying sizes and displays, lay a man I had come to love. His face pale, my eyes slipped down to where several of those same tubes and wires ended unseen behind a thin hospital gown draped somewhat carelessly across his torso. The younger woman reached up and adjusted it for him and smiled lightly as a bit of ragged breath escaped from her chest...
These are things that I have seen in my head too often lately. Things I wish never were... Things I thought I was over, but for some reason keep cropping up. What is it, if anything, that I need to see in them? I feel that because of all this, I do the things I do; I feel the way I feel...
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Numb It Up
Dumb It Down
You turn me on... -- The Greek Song, Rufus Wainwright
I've found that numbing my mind to the thoughts I've not yet been able to come to terms with in the past 20-some years has been working. I've done that all day, and I have to say, I feel the better for it. It does help when I have friends around to make the going less rough.
I am tired, though, and I think that I think too much when I'm tired. I can't find any other way of trying to stay awake than to flip through the dossier of unsolved mysteries I've kept carelessly stored in the back of my mind... If I read, I fall asleep. If I play games, I fall asleep; and it appears that though my schedule has opened up considerably, my few friends have suddenly grown too busy. So back at square one, hey.
My feelings on the wedding situation are still strong, if only less pronounced in my waking thoughts. The presence of these things will eventually fade as the weeks go by and peter out with the cooler weather. When I think on such an event, I can't help but find myself surprised, not so much at the fact that it might eventually fade away, but rather that I could treat it with such indifference.
That brings me to my next question: am I so cold hearted, or is the fear in my heart for the truth, or cruelty, of the situation that strong? In light of the latter part of the question, I must insist that the two options I've chosen -- truth and cruelty -- are diametric. One cannot overlap the other in any possible way, and so I feel both fully cover the gamut of possibilities.
I've thought of this quite a bit the past couple of days. I've sat outside in the heat and in the cold by myself wondering if what I've done in my life is proper -- if it is something I have control over or if it is one of those "subtle complexities inherent to my design". While I'm never sure of the answer, I can find myself easily believing both. On the one hand, you have the armies of Believers who say its a Sin; on the other the tender safety-net minds who mutter casual "love who you are" and "don't fight the truth"...
I'm not sure what I'm here for. That is something that has been on my mind a lot, and just recently has it become a problem again. I'm not sure why I've been kept about, except for something great, and the longer I'm left alive and well, I wonder if perhaps it's not something great I'm needed to see so much as something that I'm to begin. That scares me. Mostly because I'm not sure what it is I'm supposed to begin. If I knew, rest assured, I'd get on getting it on as soon as possible; I can't stand not knowing and waiting about to see how it's all going to end as much as the next person. And what truly scares me is the "Is God real?" issue that's been floating about for the past two-thousand-plus years.
So take some time to think about what you might be around for. I know some of us are already doing it, and that's great. But if you can't think of why, pick a reason and work toward that in the mean time. If it's not what you're needed for, I'm sure you will find out sooner or later what it is supposed to be, but at least you'll get to see something through before you get there...
I'll be there with you, doing the same.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
The Wedding
The events leading up to this wedding were somewhat unpredictable. I couldn't help but wonder if yesterday was truly happening while I was in it. In the morning, while rushing around between getting suits and getting belts and getting haircuts, I got pulled over. The cop was nice enough, and helped me out a bit. He didn't give me a ticket for speeding, though I was going 51 in a 35, but he did give me a ticket for my inspection, which was about five months overdue. He told me to get that taken care of, and then I might get the ticket waved. Who knows, though, I'm a bit apprehensive about going in for it today (I got it fixed yesterday)... I just want to relax before tonight.
The wedding was .... strange, as well. I wasn't the best man. It wasn't something that surprised me. I had often wondered who would be the best man at my brother's wedding. To be honest, we never got along well enough to do that sort of thing. I had recently decided, however, that he would have been mine, should that event ever occur (and on that note, I've quite a lot of thought, but I'll save it for another time). It wasn't long after I had made that decision that he came to me and told me I wasn't the best man. Andrew, his best friend from high school was. Again, it doesn't matter much to me, but...
From the moment it began, I felt as though we were building a wall around us. The pressure inside the self-made chamber increased my awareness of the events unfolding around me ten-fold. It felt unreal; it felt... awkward. The hundred pairs of eyes watching everything happening at the front of the long, skinny room only added to the surreality of it all, and though I've said it before, I wasn't sure it was happening...
It was a usual wedding. Everyone had the big-day nerves: The bride rushed down the isle while trying to obey her father's commands to go slowly -- he, on the other hand kept shoving a hand in his pocket to sop up the tears already flowing down his cheeks and fogging his glasses. The groom and the bride both stuttered a bit on their vows, but gave it the old Devon try. The whole while, standing up there -- which, while I'm sure it took some time, felt like it breezed by -- I felt as though I stood in a doorway, eternally suspended between one room and another, only this latter one was the entirety of the world outside. I couldn't move my spirit through it faster than it was already moving, and the heaviness of the situation weighed down on me as I avoided looking at my parents and only managed to stare emptily at Michelle.
Though the whole ordeal (in as much as it can be called such a thing) is over with now, my thoughts and feelings are squandered on unimportant notes like the weather, and what time I work tonight and tomorrow. I can't help but think of other things, because my mind is tired from all the questions running through my head... I can't say more on the subject; it's not my day to ruin -- it's theirs, and I know that they are happy with it and how it went. I think it's nice for them to finally be together the way they have both wanted for quite some time. I believe... I hope things will turn out alright in the end. For them... for everyone. I suppose that is what Faith is; but I can't help but wonder how things will work out for us all on its way to the end...
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Tears and Fears
Just leave me alone! -- Knock 'em Out, Lily Allen
It feels like I've been running around more than usual, even though I've had more time to sleep. Last night I got off from a particularly rough night at work. CodyMo left the bar "set" as he would call it, but it felt more like it was prepped for a Monday night rather than a Friday. Something happened, to say the least, and we ran out of everything, and so, for my first actual night, I'm having to call for back up, there are about four or five other people who know how to make drinks coming back to make their own drinks more often than not, and for the few people I actually did serve myself, I made a nice 51 quid. Satisfying. Some good friends came and sat at my top for a bit and it was nice to actually do something for them, and to have conversation and people to watch the crazy things that were happening to me; they did, however, miss the fantastic moment when one of the mix machines fell apart and all but spewed more than half its contents out on the floor.
Needless to say, I got home, made a few unconnected calls, and fell asleep. I suppose I was more tired than even I realized, because I woke in the middle of the night and fought with myself to get up and turn the tele off... and then it was around 8am.
Today, Jon and I went to the bookstore and looked for a book for him. He didn't find the one he was looking for, and I had never heard of it, so I wasn't much help, but he did find a book he had been wanting since someone had apparently stolen it from him, and I got a nice book happily titled "The Shortest Way to Hades". I'm looking forward to an enjoyable read... once I get done with the two other books I'm supposed to be working on from Shad. I keep running out of time! Ah, but no excuses, eh? I did get my Stimulus check in yesterday or so. It was a peculiar 413, rather than just 300, or even the wonderful 600 that I was really hoping for, and which Jon received. I suppose I can't be too cross about it, after all, I did receive money for free, and I did get more than the bare minimum...
Josh's wedding is coming up in a couple of days. I'm not ready for it. I thought I was, and I think I am, but I know inside me I'm not... Among the other things on my mind is this whole deal involving who I can and can't talk to. Jon told me today I talk to much. It didn't occur to me later that he might have been referring to that exact moment in conversation when he casually slipped it in with a percolating laugh. I should have known. At any rate, I have made a choice to stop being so ... oratory, especially since I'm not a master at the issue; it might save a handful of souls from certain undermining rumours and derisive dictation.
Family is about to come in. I need to be gone...
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
A Day Off
Everything's just wonderful;
I'm having the time of my life -- Everything's Just Wonderful, Lily Allen
It's been quite some time since I've had a day off, and I must tell you that I think I am not enjoying it half as much as I wish I would. There is too much on my mind, from things concerning old friends and new friends, relationships that have been in progress for a long time, and relationships that are yet to begin; I even find myself still mulling over the places I've been, the places I need and want to go -- the two are dichotomous -- and even the place that I am, spiritually, mentally, and physically.
When I actually do find myself having time to sit and write about the many thoughts that flow through my mind, I'm not able to get it all out. Why? What is it that keeps me going. I get sick at how my days off are more hectic than my days on, because I have so many places to go and so many things to do, and I can't even bring myself to do them all. I've got even more things on a secondary list, and am quite close to composing a tertiary one, just so I can feel better about getting to the one before it.
This shouldn't be the way things are.
As for the relationships: I feel a little concerned about the whole wedding issue. I am the last of four brothers, and I am also the youngest. Add to that list that I am the last unwed as of this coming Monday, May 12, 2008. Now, the manner of the weddings, as exhibited among my brothers, does leave a little room for me to relax as to the concept, but all the same, I do still wonder if getting married is even in my schedule, and would it even be worth it? I want to; don't get me wrong. I want to get married more than anything. I want to have a little girl, and maybe a little boy. And I want to have a wife that I can spoil and protect... but I still want all that for myself.
This isn't what I had wanted to put up for the first post in quite some time, but it's all I have to say at the moment. My mind must be playing tricks on me again...
Friday, April 25, 2008
Dear Diary
It was fun.
I'm going to go find some honey. Yum. Honey.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Love Love Me
Anyway you want to
Anyway you got to -- Love Today, MIKA
Aside from the fact that I've been going-going-going for the past several days, I've been somewhat at ease with the things I've previously put into words. There are things that I still haven't quite come to terms with, and new troubles arise at the horizon each day that goes by, but as I suppose I've only to wait until they are closer before I can truly deal with them effectively.
I don't quite know what to say about my situation right now. It's... sufficient. I've had a lot on my mind about the past, about the city I ran away from. When I consider it that way, I wasn't really running away from that place, but coming back to the home I left first. There are still a lot of questions from what went on there, and what had happened to me in this desolate wilderness I love so many years ago. I've also thought about what I have learned from the things I've experienced; how they've shaped me for better or for worse, and whether I feel the shape of my spirit, soul, and body alltogether is anything worthy of what I have to accomplish later. What kind of person am I today that is better than the person I had been before? Surely, older, more responsible, but what about my ethics? What about my morals; my standards? Do they reflect the person I want to be? I've asked a good friend of mine, on several occasions, what he had to learn from his experience as a vagrant, and he's had quite an interesting bit to say.
In a world where the human race... rather, the American mindset is to keep going until you drop, or suddenly wake up and find yourself famous, it is more than apparent that anyone could quickly lose track of whatever goals he or she has set for the future. He had told me how in his mind, he has a specific person, one he envisions himself as being, but it's presence, it's realness, is still a long ways off. I suppose that's what can be expected of anyone, and it should, in fact, be more like what we all are looking for. I, however, for one, have let the subliminal pressures of modern-day American society change me for a different man. I can't say for sure whether or not it is improper, or alltogether wrong, yet neither can I say to you that it is the way we should be.
If there is anything any man should do, it's to live his life without interruption or misdirection per some other party. His should be a life that is created with a goal and a standard for measurement all his own, and while molded as it is by the experiences he gains from others, it should by no means be reason enough to deter him from his desired path.
That's what I'm learning. I suppose, to be more succinct would be to say "I'm learning to live for God and myself only; not to be pushed aside, into mindless service to the careless and scornful desires of men."
Monday, March 03, 2008
It's Snowing Now
If you see these tears filling my eyes -- it's just the wind that makes me cry;
If you could feel this pain inside -- it's from the drinks we drank last night... -- The Drinks We Drank Last Night, Azure Ray
It's snowing outside now. How fickle the weather has been only seems an echoing to the turmoil that has been raging inside my body for quite nearly the past month. And while the white flurries that swirl around the landscape bring chills to my bare skin, I somehow find them comforting. There's a warmth emanating from them that I cannot find anywhere else,and, I think, it's that empathy we share -- the snow and I, that has had more affect on my trembling heart than anyone else.
If at any time any one person finds his- or herself capable of pausing and carefully and correctly analyzing the life he or she leads, and then from that perform the proper procedures to ensuring that life continues, or moves toward something better, then I suppose there is hope left for me.
I think I might be able to do that. I think that, perhaps, there is a chance that I might be able to recover from this without losing more of who I am as a person, and what I've gained in the past year.
There are people here who love me, and there are people here whom I love, and want nothing more than for them to be happy, and for me to be with them... and for me to be wanted and appreciated. There are things I had left behind when I moved to San Diego; things I had not been aware of. Love; more than love.... And I still wonder if I'm worth that. Having been in San Diego on my own, I learned how to be alone. I worked all morning, and sat by myself in the afternoons until I fell asleep before the sun could set. I knew people, I enjoyed the time I had at work, and the few times I had gone out with co-workers, but I never felt like I truly belonged, and so I made myself belong where I was. It was easier, and I think it still is, for me to be alone. For me to be somewhere on my own was far better than to be surrounded by people with whom I felt no connection. I believe I began to feel this sort of thing last spring, but I was far too busy thinking about the times ahead of me, in the golden life of the Garden State, to worry about or even notice it was happening. Perhaps it is a curse I've picked up from a time ago when I had loved and lost in the early months of the year, and I've let it follow me around...
I can't say I've had a bad life since Nicholas passed away, but it hasn't been the best, either. Perhaps that's being a little too down on myself, yet perhaps its the closest analysis that I can offer to being correct: nothing too bad; nothing too good. And that's the way it's been. People have come and gone in my life far too much. I can't begin to speak the words of my gratitude concerning Jon and Kiger, and even Michael and Jen and their kids. And of course, Christie. However, being apart from these few and being forced to move on and function is something that I don't believe any of us were trained or prepared for...
And it's snowing now. Just like my thoughts, the flurries will pick up what they've set down and move on to another place... but perhaps I will be able to finish what I've tried to say here. And then you can understand why my heart hurts so.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
What's In Your Va-jay-jay?
I recently discovered a Cosmopolitan magazine in the local Wal-mart that boasted about this seemingly magical word. I hadn't much heard of a va-jay-jay until my friends, the Lees, began using it around me a couple weeks ago. Little did I know just how famous it was. Anyway, i just thought I'd upload this picture for laughs. And P.S. I am using mobile blogger to post tonight's entry.
Monday, February 18, 2008
In Trusting
I won't hurt you;
Life wouldn't be the same without you... -- Trust, Keyshia Cole
There is something to be said about the internal qualities of Trust. Trust is clear and true, Trust is strong and kind, Trust is righteous and sure.
But Trust cannot stand alone.
If ever there were a time when Trust was needed, it would be now. Trust would be one of the only things that could keep anyone from going over the edge of the world and never being heard from again. Trust is the offspring of Hope, and Hope is the partner to Love. Love; how lovely it is. Love is patient, Love is kind, Love is not jealous. Love does not take into account wrongs suffered. Love rejoices in the truth. Love hopes.
So if I, a human, have trust in another, be it human or otherwise, then I have hope as well, and with hope, a semblance of love. Though these things may not be perfect, I would more than strive to make them so, for in love, there is no wrong.
God grant strength for me to Trust, Hope and Love.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Dreaming With a Broken Heart
The waking up is the hardest part -- John Mayer
Scenes flash through my head of the night before; some of them have sound, some of them don't. Some of them are filled with questions, others brimming with life, and the last few overflowing with emotion.
Are human beings inherently evil beings? What is it in us that causes us to refrain from one another's trust and love? I admit, I have done the same thing to others, as they have done to me; I only wish I could have realized that at the time...
'I have told you everything about me; there is nothing you don't know,' the words fly from my mouth -- attempted daggers at his heart, but he only swats them away with his hands as he places them on my shoulders and grips. 'Is there?' he asks me; 'Have you told everyone or anyone everything?'
No, of course I haven't, but I don't realize it in time...
I look away from his face in the darkness. I can't stand this feeling -- my hands are gripping tighter at my sides, but I don't think he notices. 'Do you love me?' he asks, his voice soft, penetrating. I mutter some words. 'I can't hear you,' he says, and then, harder, 'do you love me?'
'More than words.'
It is the first fight we've ever had, but could it even be called that? From one point of view, I was backed into a corner and threatened, and from another, I was the one that started it. I'm sure I could count at least a handful of reasons why it wasn't my fault; a handful of instances that show I was unwillingly put through it, but what good would that do? The only other person who knows enough to know may never admit to it; what good would it do if he did?
My heart is broken, and I can hardly stand it. I know that now there is a choice I have to make. The path before me lies in twain. Do I descend and wait for the tentative chance that he may come and show me the way back, or do I ascend and mend my own heart, building up around it walls I never dreamed would exist between he and I? Either road is dangerous.
It is the first fight we've ever had; he is my best friend.
I pray it will not be the last.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Grey Sky Morning
It's funny how things change, and so fast. I don't know if I can keep up. You see, I've been alone for so long -- and I don't mean that in a terrible way, just... alone. I don't think I can handle being with someone, you know? Especially something fast -- it almost boggles my mind.
I woke... well, perhaps that isn't the best word? I left my friend's house this morning as the sun was rising, only it couldn't be seen. The sky was grey-blue from the snow clouds that sat too high in the sky to do anything but act as harbingers for something greater. The previous night has left me with more things on my mind than I thought concerned me... and I still don't quite know how to put it into words. I do think I've had a total of maybe 2 hours of sleep since about 1300 yesterday... perhaps that is my problem at the moment?
For those of you who read my diary, I want you to know I don't know what I'm doing right now. I don't know who I am right now, nor do I know who I want to be tomorrow. I'm still too apprehensive to let go and let live, and at the same time, completely ignorant ignoring the fact that I'm not where I need to be right now in my life...
I don't mean this in any rude fashion -- not in the least, and trust me when I say that, Nat, dear -- but I find myself wishing I could be in your position, or rather, that I could have your... side of the situations the two of us find ourselves in...
I shall raise a glass to us; a toast to our individual niches, which seem to nuture the desire for something greater within us...
Friday, January 18, 2008
It's Been A While
I realize it has been quite some time since I last posted in here... and, well, I can't be totally honest about a lot of the things that have happened to me. What kind of diary is this? I suppose it's the kind where people seem to think they can do whatever they want with the information, because it's made public, but I'm stuck here saying only things I feel safe with others knowing, or having to encrypt things because I want them out, but can't risk the knowledge becoming public... Damn free access.
Michael's dead, yes, and it was him, yes.
I've made some new friends... I'll write more about them later.
I live in an apartment by myself -- my roommate moved out on me.
I dream about San Diego every day it seems; I can't get it out of my head.
I feel alone for some reason... not sure why...
I find myself regretting being an adult.
Sometimes I feel like I could just open my eyes and wake up. Like I've been dreaming this whole time, and that the past 12 years of my life were some terrible dream that was too fantastic to wake from. Yet, now I'm ready. I'm ready for it to be over. I'm ready for it to be done with. I can't stand being alone. I can't stand being around the people I know are my friends, and feeling alone...
The worse comes to worst, always, you know? And yesterday I walked into work to see his smiling face; only, it wasn't smiling for me. I don't know what I was thinking in this month that he was gone. I don't know what I was thinking in that time about what I'd do when he came back.... but here he is, isn't he? And what do I do now that I'm back in that situation where the one I love is right in front of me, and I can't have them. I finally gave in and asked an older friend of mine... someone from San Diego himself; I figured he would know what to do, or at least be receptive to what I had to say. He told me that I couldn't just let myself get dragged down into the darkness because of everything. He told me that he saw a great aura around me, and that I'm always happy, and if I think that the way things are now are final, then that is the way they'll be, and it'd never work out. I can't say I don't agree with him, because I do. We always have to be positive whenever we feel like the world is closing in on us, but I can't say I agree about the whole "it'll work itself out" thing.
I don't think I'll ever really be with him. I just don't think that's in the workings. However, my friend did cover that, too. He said, if that's the way it was meant to be, then so be it, but we don't know right now, so don't let yourself thing it's over just yet.
And it's not... is it? Thanks for your continued support, Penny; I really do appreciate it. I hope things are going well for you, and I'll try to be more consistent with my publications.
All my love,
`koa
If you want to get in touch with me via telephone, just click this link and call me -- it goes straight to my phone, and if i can't answer, just leave a message. :D