this is one of those..

before you speak think about what you're trying to say..

latley im always relying on what I have left, a little something to make it not feel quite how it is. but it is, just what it is.
I took a beautiful look at the people that surround me tonight. how did I get so lucky? to be surrounded by these people? I could go other places, I could search another forest, but Im certain that this one, the one I have next door and down the street, is just about as perfect as could be.

I'mtired??
does that make sense to you? I need more than that. I know who I am, know how I turn things around, try turning things around for me, because from this view, things are tired.

i am a troll. and i feel plastic. happy halloweiner

did I mention that I have the best friends? well yours aren't as great as mine.. unless you are one of them.. reading this inappropriate post..

like a bird.

This is how I feel this morning. 5 papers in 5 days, a quiz this morning... I'm sorry body for what I am about to do to you tonight, but I've already lost my mind..

Cheers for tonight!! its going to get scary messsy...

feather booty shorts. period.

mut moh

giggles giggles

ignore that haggard old man coughing at the end of the video.
maybe it was a "had to be there" moment, but this just giggles my gord

Care for a big FAT hug? Why yes, I must say that I do!

so this is what that four letter word is.. this what it feels like.. when there is never a right answer..and no option the better....when everything leads back to you.

future determined.

is the present just a present that I will be gifted later?

earth to self 
stop being less.

self, you don't always have to be so brave.
self, I know your heart is a loud mouth, but there is a whole being here, and what doesn't hurt your heart immediately, is definitely num chucking your psyche.

no one knows what they are talking about, no one can determine how they will feel, this moment is what a loser would call weak. I don't want to be a loser. I want to be a keeper.

not a note to self:
am I a keeper?

Dear College,

                                                                                                     Love/Hate, 

                                                                                                 LJ

better left said

So late, so early.

I know I don't have a choice, it may appear that way, but I know the truth. I know that I am invested.

My only fear is that I will lose touch. I'm not one to stay on board a ship for very long, because they always sink. This is the first ship I've ever been on that has left the harbor. I want to try it out, I can't promise anything except that I know who I am. I know that I am sensitive, I know that I like certainty, like that reliability which insures we will still be tomorrow. 

I don't want to be a worn out record, so please don't play me. especially because I trust you.

I hate when guys know a girl deserves more, and so they set her free. If that's not an excuse and if you ever truly feel that I deserve more: don't mention it. don't worry about it. don't give up for it. just realize that you possess what needs to change, and be the man you think a woman would like to remember. But, if you are going to use "you deserve better" as a way out, don't say it, because before that point I had most likely already come to that conclusion. so don't ninja fuck my mind with shit I already know. If you want out, get out. 

Try to protect me with honesty, the truth is never wasted. Your affection will never fail at keeping me quiet. If you do stand to hurt me without warning, you will be sorely disappointed by my lack of forgiveness. Maybe it's because I'm really cold, but I wont come back. I'm not accustomed to being taken care of, I'm much better at being alone.

I never wanted to be that way. 

In fact, I like being a lover. I like being yours. I like watching you chase your dreams. but if I can only love you quietly, then I need compromise... i need you to be soft in my moments of weakness.

It's okay to pretend

Find the familiar in the weather, the smell of blankets, shirts and pillows.

How is it that all the past was so dysfunctional? But, with you even with the insistence of space, waves and wires there is functionalism?

Tonight there was a strange recollection of the years that came to pass. A song that me and papa listened to on the way to school was playing. Replaying was that gray sadness when our home became a house. The awareness that as much as I had hoped, the past was going to remain unchanged. The unsettling feeling, that the future wont ever fix what was done. 

When dad was sick, mom cared for him and it was her love that brought him back to life.

First, I remember that I ran, I couldn't even look at him. The guilt that consumed. The guilt that I was his own daughter, made of the love that she had ruined.

When dad was sick, I cared for him, but love couldn't bring him back. A part of him, of me, and the entire family died, and it can't be brought back to life.

I'm ashamed that I can't grow past it, that even as I accept that nothing is going to change what was done, I can't grow past it. As far as my parents go, I'm afraid I will always be a child, begging them to love each other, begging. Still, I don't regret that I hope for the inconceivable. It's just an inferior feeling, to see all the other sons and daughters let go, while I am still a child wishing myself back into my playroom, back to family dinners, back to trick or treating, back to Christmas mornings, and back to the middle of the bed when these bad dreams wont give up.

And so I pretend, I do adult things, I smoke on the porch.

He says, "These last four years, I know they've been hard, but now it's time to get out of the desert and into the sun".. even if it's alone. What's left to lose? I've done enough, and if I fail, well then I fail, but I gave it a shot.

hallow

Humph, so, the day-of-sun was very very wet. Had supper with papa at the farm, drove home in an irritated mood, not due to pops, just due to circumstances that I hadn't wanted to deal with.

As of late I have been so successful with constantly unwrapping the gift of the present. I had to clean up a little mess from the past, a mess I had tried to handle, but was forced to reckon with in a manner that was not likely for me. But, that is settled, back to the present, or the near future..

Hallows eve is creeping in, the last as a student in Eugene I hope! 

It may seem strange, but lately I have come to the thought that maybe the choice in costume can define you in some subdued way, like it is a silent shout from the inner you at this point in your life, in the year, or in the week. The opportunity to wear a mask, to tell the 'you in reality' to go away for the night. 

.

whoa. words? none.

back to basics

I giggled hashbrowns across the table last night, out of my nose. At least my friends still love me :)

REALLY excited to dance tonight, I need to fix the itch in my dancing soul that has been begging me to scratch it.

p.s. It's fun to have the number one football team in the nation. quack!

keeping

I keep everything, I mean every receipt, every cardboard coaster, every movie and concert ticket, and many other things I'm almost a bit too shy to admit to. All this keeping sure does make it hard to be organized! I cleaned every inch of my room tonight and then got back to my Italian with a glass of wine in hand.

I of course got distracted by a box that was staring at me. I refuse to blame it on drinking and studying. But, in that box.. a whole year of keeping. I threw everything in that box away. It is now an empty box, it has some airing out to do before I let anything special touch a box that contained receipts of anger, pictures of confusion and time that was wasted. 

To remind myself of the present and to proceed away from the past that I had just revisited, I found a new box. This is when I did what I hesitated to do all summer, in fear that I would jinx something. I did it.

here is your very own, box. 

In due time I was looking through that new box. Smiling at photo strips and giggling at receipts that you had signed for me, which were only half the time signed with my name, while the other half were signed with nicknames you had made for me. 

By signing you agree to pay the above amount,

X     lover of life       .

I decided to put some pictures up in my room and stood back to look at the collage. Suddenly, I was snapped back to reality when I heard myself say with a sigh and a smile... "mmm I miss you".

the want to see all the beauty that makes you weep, but doesn't have to make you weak

time starts closing, I see the end of this year and the start of getting out of here. I'm anxious to start on my own, to own five more horses, to dress for halter shows, and be in the country that has open eyes, unlike these university walls and city bars.

there, have it! silly head and laughing heart, you've awoken the write in me. the night is once again mine.

it still isnt real.

this insistence of space.

I am a grinning child, an immature adult, a woman with a plan to use my head. I do think that moods command you if you don't know what you're going through.

I do this thing where I think I'm real sick
but I won't go to the doctor to find out about it
cause they make you stay real still in a real small space
as they chart up your insides and put them on display.
they'd see all of it, all of me, all of it..

it can be said that I choose sadness, that it never once has chosen me. I call bullshit on that card. I laugh in the face of anything that isn't happiness.

I am flawed if I'm not free, can you still feel the same for me?

they say it so well, why can't I?

my mind is growing tired, too much thinking of what I should do,

I picture you out there, it must be beautiful this time of year..

well the weather out here is just the same, but the garden that you planted, remains.

now its only work, each day bleeding into the next.

barely scraping by, I tire myself out just so I can rest.

but rest it rarely comes, and when it does I cannot go home, 

because it's much too quiet, 

seems that I'm not suited to being alone,

and everyone around me has changed,

but the garden that you planted, remains.

I think about you, maybe more than I should,

but the smog is getting old, the drugs I'm taking aren't so good.

so will you talk to me? even though you've had a late night, 

because I need a little help, maybe you can tell me I'll be alright,

because everything around me has changed, but the garden that you planted, remains. 

coincidental words.

I'm tired, a little appreciation wouldn't hurt. I always play the fool, nothing is changing, damn.

Let's get together yeah yeah yeah!

I love my friends, each of them have the most beautiful and unique light about them. I love looking at pictures, and reading old notes, letters and cards. I love how it comes alive, how I can faintly hear the laughing and noise in the pictures, and how I can see them in their words. I suppose I have just reached a moment in this chapter of my life where I have to sit back, and take a breath, in awe of how profoundly lucky I am.

To those far away, across rivers, oceans and border lines, I miss you, and have become frighteningly aware of how significant you are to my life.

To those who surround me, you bring me warmth, guidance and completeness.


I will continue to try to be the friend to you, that all of you have been to me. Thanks for the shoulder when my head is heavy, the hand to hold when we walk drunk in the cold, the joke I needed to laugh back the tears, the dancing partner for closing call, the hug to last till next time, the support to believe in myself, and for laughing at me when I forget to myself.

remember that we can be young forever, as long as there is room to grow.

the middle

But, I have compromised my well being by not writing. I am moved by the things I hear, but I've become a listener and I can't seem to find the spark to be the noise. It's been over a year, I did some editing. I found the last post humorous, that sick cycle, that I don't remember.

I don't think I was ever alive until now.
I know I was empty, always trying to fill what was never really true, and never really there, with words.
what was sad? the past can always be reflected as either sad or happy, and it's best to face the now, instead of worrying about what was.

Every year is organized by pictures turned on their face. An unrecognizable me.

beginnings are scary, endings are usually sad, but it's the middle that counts the most. Remember that when you find yourself at the beginning, just give hope a chance to float up, and it will..