Maybe

Maybe the Sun will shine today,
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.

Ripples

Bleed American Album, Jimmy Eat World

---

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.

It's Trying

We stayed outside til two,
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.

Something To Say

FREE, ERIKA

---

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.

In View

I'mma do the things that I wanna do -- Pork and Beans, Weezer

---

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.