Vicious Cycle

Wed, 17 Feb 2010 07:29:46 GMT

Alrighty then. Let's not put it off any longer. The big fat humility post.

I'm living with the parents again... have for a while now. It seemed like the right place to regroup after graduation and my short travels afterward. Alas, there was a reason I was doing well away from home. I thrive best in... other places. More specifically, any other place. :\

Ok maybe not ANY other, but it feels like it sometimes. I have plans, of course. Ways and means of moving forward, but I'm afraid that my patience is a bit short at present. And why shouldn't it be? I have things to accomplish that aren't getting done here, and people to spend my life with who just aren't close enough. I have hope, though. Oodles of it. Just need to find a way to shape this big fat molten blob of primordial possibilities into a strong and pretty future.

And hopefully come up with much better metaphors along the way.

Been experimenting with humor more in my writing. I'll probably end up posting some of my poems in the near future. Though, I'm not sure how concerned I should be with theft. Something tells me that poetry robbers aren't at the top of my list of things to worry about, but I suppose it's better to be safe than sorry.

Hmm, or I can just give up the writing thing and a) be a pastry chef, b) be a massage therapist or, c) do some strange and wonderful craft like hand carving cookie molds or basket weaving. Oh oh oh, or d) sheep farming. Ahh, so many ambitions. So little money. :|

Happy Halloween!

Sat, 31 Oct 2009 20:57:41 GMT

I'm officially 23!

Feeling very very good about this year. :)

And my boyfriend is thesweetestmostlovingbestboyfriendandpresentgiver ever.

And eee!

:)

Mon, 03 Aug 2009 03:06:52 GMT

I miss him so much.

Want him now, now, now. :|

Tue, 14 Jul 2009 23:11:44 GMT

"I think I'll die from this ache"

Sun, 26 Apr 2009 01:04:59 GMT

I should not blame you
and you should not take credit for—
you are not the root
of this.

You are not soil
with its nutrients,
or falling rain
with nourishment,
not sunshine
nor planter.

You are merely
a sprout—
the top
the tip,
cut it off
and another would grow
in its place

sun-hungry
and insignificant.

Mon, 13 Apr 2009 02:02:39 GMT

I love you, Anthony.

Even though you sneak around my journal without ever posting a hai. :|

<3!

Sat, 11 Apr 2009 19:19:06 GMT

Tired of Flying

Press the needles in my wings,
I’m ready to be a pretty thing
mounted on your wall.

Sat, 10 Jan 2009 23:20:24 GMT

sucky weekend is getting suckier.

Sat, 10 Jan 2009 05:47:02 GMT

I can't escape death.

Well, yes, literally, but I mean I can't escape thinking about it.

It's everywhere... the movies I come across, an episode of Frasier I happen to see channel surfing, the news (of course), and in people I know.

It feels like everyone's on the brink. My ocd kicks in and I try to do things in the correct order to protect. I know it's futile, but it doesn't matter, I still try. I can't help but break at the mention of any of it because it all represents the same thing. I'm so afraid of losing the people that I love. When anybody goes, it's a reminder that it's just a matter of time.

I know I can't keep thinking about it or I'll explode. It's like the willing suspension of disbelief. You can't enjoy a movie if you keep thinking about how fake it is. You can't enjoy life if you keep thinking about how it's all going to turn to dust.

I want to go to the people I love and hold them close. One in particular. But he's so far away.

Sometimes I don't think he understands the depth of feeling I have for him. A lifetime doesn't seem long enough to explain.

Fucking oceans.

Mon, 05 Jan 2009 00:11:35 GMT

Well then.

It's been a while.

I guess I got busy with London at first... which was fantastic and a half. It's amazing how much I miss it there... then again, there's a tall handsome fellow that may have something to do with.

Then school! Just finished a good semester. I got a lot of new poetry written, and took a computer music class too... so now I have a new interest. Or rather, I have an old interest morphed into something I can actually do, considering I still can't play guitar or piano. Excited excited.

New Years Revelations:

Working out lots of times a week isn't (just) for psychos.

Being optimistic isn't just for the naive.

The more you do, the more you can handle doing.

Spring mix greens are delicious.

What else?

Oh, I don't know. I've been restless a lot lately, thinking it was for different reasons than it actually was. I have some reasons to be restless... like all people have to varying degrees. I must live in the now while accepting some things are only possible in the future. And that's ok.

Ok!

Mon, 16 Jun 2008 07:45:12 GMT

Touched down at London Heathrow early Friday morning...

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

My darling is asleep behind me. I haven't been able to sleep much here, at least during the night hours. The sun sets later and rises earlier and as a result the sunlight that wakes me up at a reasonable time (like 9 or 12 back home...) wakes me up somewhere around 6 or 7 here. ARG! I decided I have to be polite and wait to jump him until at least 9 though... must... have... self... control...

It's been nice and relaxed so far, though, a lot of sitting around and wandering and eating and watching football. My body hurts, but I'm hoping that'll get better as I adjust.

To London on Saturday... the time is going to fly. I'm not sure what I'll be doing on the weekend other than an orientation or two, and then it's off to classes. I'm nervous, but hopeful. I just got here and already I know that it's going to suck leaving. Transatlantic flights in the wrong direction + intense longing = suck.

Is it 9 yet is it 9 yet...

Fri, 30 May 2008 07:06:28 GMT

They’re literally going in
and cauterizing little bits
of his heart.

Oh, God,
the metaphors I could use.

But what’s the point?
I don’t want to make
this sound fantastic
or beautiful,
draw on the pain of the past
or hope for the future.

The truth is
I am unprepared.
The truth is
I'm scared.

Sun, 04 May 2008 22:33:33 GMT

bored/lonely/angry

Thu, 17 Apr 2008 15:28:39 GMT

Dude dude dude,

Classes are officially over (though exams aren't yet) and I just woke up to a sunny room without an alarm clock and it was beeaaauuuuutiful.

I went to see Saul Williams at the Blind Pig last night. It was so fucking awesome. I only liked bits and pieces of his stuff before, but the way they performed it, oh man, it was fantastic. Don't know what else you can really say about a concert. If it was any good, seems like a private internal experience.

Anywho.... I think I'll go eat waffles...

Wed, 09 Apr 2008 06:25:52 GMT

Me:
only a few people knew what a catechism was

him:
isnt that one of those legless amphibians?

him:
:|

Me:
:|

Me:
first communion?

him:
oh thats caecilians

Fri, 29 Feb 2008 07:06:34 GMT

Well, I'm home for "spring break". That's right... ignore the inches of snow and ice on the ground and use your imagination...

It's been decent so far... relaxing and all that. Except for the fact that I have tons of midterm work due right when I get back. So, it's more of a week-long study session than a break. Oh well. I'm just holding on desperately for the real spring to come.

I hate watching things change so much. The restaurant where I got my first job has gone out of business. They're turning it into some pizzeria now. The place where we used to eat before homecoming is also changed, it's some bar now. My Dad's friends... the ones I looked up to as young adults... I look at them and they're not so young anymore. There's this eerie sense of all the people that I wanted to approve of me, and feel proud of me... well, maybe they won't be around to see much of my life after all.

I hate seeing how temporary things really are. I feel like by the time you really appreciate something. It's so incredibly close to ending. It's something I'm not handling very well right now.

I'm going to London this summer (eee). I'll be studying abroad for around six weeks.
I wish it were longer, but even so, it's going to be so much fun. I always end up surprising myself. I think of myself as some boring person who never does much of anything. It's good to know at least I'm stretching myself somehow... doing things I'm not normally comfortable with. In some sense, I feel like I'm becoming more of the confident person I knew I could always be. In another sense, though, I feel like the little girl who always thought she was going to grow up to become a different woman... only to realize there is no one else. There's only who you are and the decisions you make... and that never changes.

Speaking of which... I should decide to get sleep.

Thu, 24 Jan 2008 07:56:01 GMT

I miss him most in the night,
run my fingers up my shirt
and over flesh, bare,
to mimic his movements,
imagining he’s there,
and the way those tiny
perfect touches make me feel.

There is a feeling beyond arousal,
a softening of bodies for sleep,
that could, perhaps, transform
into the act of making love,
all the blood pumped to the right regions.

But simply to hold in this state,
to caress, is what I miss most,
that prolonging of warmth, desire,
incomparable fire, that by itself
lust knows not how to maintain.

I press my face against the pillow
brim-full of his love,
and there I remain.

Love is now the stardust of yesterday

Tue, 01 Jan 2008 20:02:41 GMT

Well...

I'm back in the country again. I've been in England for the last two or so weeks, visiting my beloved.

I'm not sure how to do this. How to get back into the every day routine without him, without tears gathering at every reminder of him. I was expecting it to hit me hard again, naturally. I have long been familiar with the pain of absence. But that was with the next visit on the horizon. It's easy to cross the ocean when the man you love is waiting on the other side. All the beauty of floating in the atmosphere is diminished when you're coming back home, when you don't know the date, the month, the year of your next meeting...

In other words, I miss him like hell.

Enough gushing, for the next minute at least. The visit was lovely. We had two very rushed days in London. I got to see a fair few big old famous buildings, and experience enough cashiers to know that everyone in the city seems to be from a different place. Everything was big and close together, old and swarming with the masses. Everyone had prettier, sexier shoes than me too... even the sixty-year-olds...

We took the train and a taxi back to his place, spent most of the time relaxing like some normal couple. We looked for lunch, became familiar with the closest Tesco's in a filling station, took a look at shops for Christmas presents.

Most the details are a blur of the everyday and the sweet nothings of couples. We watched the Alien films, the Predator films, the Alien vs. Predator film... all romantic movies, naturally. He watched the football highlights as I read through a silly magazine. He got me tea and spiced cookies we couldn't pronounce.

We became reacquainted with each other's eyes, each other's skin. Once more the comfort of the way his irises fade from amber to blue, the beauty of a constellation of freckles...

We had a cute little Christmas. A little tree with tiny ornaments and tinsel all over. I got him Orange Box (PC game) and he got me the most beautiful watch evar. I tried Christmas pudding, and mince pies, and Christmas cake... and all number of chocolate biscuits and sweets and I'm probably growing a second ass at this point...

It was so hard leaving. In Love Actually there's that big speech at the begining about all the love in the world, and how if you sit and watch the arrivals gate at Heathrow you can see this, people hugging and kissing and running to each other. He doesn't say anything about watching departures. We had a pint and a half each in the depatures lounge before I left. We held hands, laughed, kissed, and I felt the tears begin creeping down. I guess leaving was a bit like a movie, sneaking one last kiss on either side of the rope that divides the terminal from the security line.

I can't help that crushing, sinking feeling upon leaving. I should be thankful to have spent more beautiful moments with him, but the higher you go, the further you fall. I know it's not over, I'm just depressed again, and I hope I can get out of it fast enough to get a good start on this semester.

And I hope I can stop searching youtube for stupid depressing love songs.

Tue, 27 Nov 2007 19:52:50 GMT

Many moons had passed...

I'm still so in love, just so you know.

I guess I haven't known what to write in here. I've thought about it, though, like most other things in my life right now, I feel stagnated when it comes to expression.

I'm coming down with a sore throat, which sucks, but isn't terribly surprising. I've been into the University Health Service about every week for the last couple of months, trying to cope with some malady or another. Stomach problems, nervous breakdowns, burning my hand on a pot, and even getting the fluff of a Q-tip stuck in my ear.

Impressive, no?

This has probably been my most difficult semester of school, which makes some sense, but not a lot. Two years ago was a horrible low point for me, which I somehow crawled out of being better than I ever was before (finding true love helped :)). This time is different, I have reason to be happy, especially with my love, but other stresses build up and overwhelm. I've always been a restless person. I think I'm just done with this school thing. The trick is to finish up this last year or so and graduate...

Some doctor wanted me to go on Prozac. I thought of it, of course. I think it wasn't so much the "you might need this" as the "I just met you five minutes ago and you need this" that bothered me about it. I really don't like taking medicine when I don't have to, and yes there's debates on both sides. Sometimes it seems easier to go with what people want you to do, cause the grief they'll give is worse than the benefit of your own true decision. But in this case... I don't know, I want to work on coping mentally before I resort to magic pills.

Too personal? I really don't think so. If more people talked about this shit, maybe we'd all feel less ashamed about things there's no real reason to feel shame about.

I've been in love with Wagner again recently. Maybe he was a horrible man, I don't know, and I doubt I ever will. I do know, however, he wrote some damn captivating music, and it makes my soul soar. So there.

Listen to all of this, it'll get your blood flowing.

Sat, 19 May 2007 21:56:23 GMT

Me?

Oh...

I'm so in love.

Wed, 28 Mar 2007 22:39:30 GMT

"Winding your way down on Baker Street
Light in your head, and dead on your feet
Well another crazy day, you'll drink the night away
And forget about everything

This city desert makes you feel so cold, its got
So many people but its got no soul
And its taken you so long to find out you were wrong
When you thought it held everything.

You used to think that it was so easy
You used to say that it was so easy
But you're tryin, you're tryin now
Another year and then you'd be happy
Just one more year and then you'd be happy
But you're cryin', you're cryin now

Way down the street there's a light in his place
He opens the door, he's got that look on his face
And he asks you where you've been, you tell him who you've seen
And you talk about anything

He's got this dream about buyin' some land
He's gonna give up the booze and the one night stands
And then he'll settle down, in some quiet little town
And forget about everything

But you know he'll always keep moving
You know he's never gonna stop moving
Cause he's rollin, He's the rolling stone

And when you wake up it's a new morning
The sun is shining it's a new morning
And you're going, you're going home"

Yes it's dated... yes there's a sax solo... yes, it's still awesome.

Wed, 14 Mar 2007 06:44:17 GMT

Note to Self: Remember to Have Self Esteem

I AM NOT
the be-all end-all
of his life,
not (yet) his wife
not morning, noon,
or night.
I am a companion,
a counterpart,
with aspirations of
the unconditional.

He doesn’t need to be
with me constantly
to be with me,
we don’t need to agree
to be okay.

I need not model
my behavior simply to please him,
he loves me for who I am,
and if I lose myself
then I’ll lose him.

He makes me happy,
but that is not his purpose.
He is not a tool,
not a drug,
not a means,
he is my equal and my other.

I am not his mother
or his daughter,
cousin or his sister.
He owes me nothing more
than what he wants to give.

I have been hurt before,
but not by him.
I have been betrayed before,
but not by him.

I will not project
my insecurities
into everything he does
or does not do,

I will not mistake silence
for indifference.

I will love him unconditionally,
and when I cannot
I will understand why.
I will forgive and move on,
I will always try.

Because we know
what wounds are,
because we know
what’s worth more,

because now is the time to heal,
and have the strength
to love what's real.

Mon, 05 Mar 2007 05:06:41 GMT

Generally I try to keep entries a little shorter and less reflective, key word being try. But it is a journal after all, so I'll take this opportunity to use it like one.

I just got back to school from spring break... which, sadly, seems to be a week before everyone else's... though I did get to spend some quality time with my family.

I went to my Dad's concert today with the North Oakland Concert Band. I've been playing with them for the better part of, I don't know, seven years? At least for five solid, the other years being a little more sporadic. It's just kind of wild, to be a part of something for so long. I really came to love it and the people in it... Now however, distance from home keeps me from playing with them. I didn't realize how much I had missed it all.

The concert was good. I found myself daydreaming a lot though. Looking at the stage I realized just how much of my life I've lived on it. I could look at different places on the stage and remember the exact moments that occurred on them, the corner where my place was for my dance class performance, the way I was only one of two girls who got to have male partners, because they towered over all the rest and I was fairly tall. I remember how all the girls in the class used to huddle up and change against the wall because they were shameless enough to wear thongs, but not shameless enough to show their asscheeks to the rest of the class.

I could look at the section of the stage that lowered into the pit, thinking of when I was a wide eyed freshman, getting to play in the school musical so young because someone else couldn't do it at the last minute. I would stare across the pit, looking at the pianist who managed to play and hold his girlfriend's hand simultaneously, the first time I really started contemplating the power of touch. And then, of course, getting let in on the secret knowledge of how gummy bears look melted on top of a stand light.

I thought about all the countless concerts I helped set up chairs and stands for, all the festivals I helped guide. How there was a certain science to spacing chairs, to making sure the ends of rows all lined up, to try not to give out the stands that came from the middle school because the tops were harder to adjust than opening a stuck pickle jar.

I remember sitting in the audience as my brother played his last high school band concert, crying at the passage of time and the distance there would be between us when he went away to college.

I remember really coming into myself, being happy with who I was senior year, in physics class when we went to the auditorium to to drop eggs from the catwalk for an experiment. That I remember vividly because the path kept getting thinner and more twisted and I was becoming painfully more aware of my fear of heights. I also remember being conscious of my ass a foot away from the face of the boy behind me, a boy that within a few months would become a boyfriend. Which in the end was arguably a fair bit scarier than heights...

There's tons more I'm sure. Waiting in the wings in the darkness to play an offstage solo, trying to tread lightly with heels on so I wouldn't disturb the band on stage during festivals. So many friends, so much respect for ensembles and soloists, getting respect for the same, receiving awards on that stage, watching others receive the awards I wish I had gotten. Getting asked to play additional horn parts in well-respected ensembles.

I know I'm at a great university now, that I get to play at Hill Auditorium and it's truly one of the most beautiful places I've been in, one of the greatest honors to share the stage with so many gifted talents that have stepped there before. But I miss that old stage. I miss that sense of community, excelling at something because you loved it, not because it was going to get you anywhere. It's so easy to get lost in a crowd here. I should be proud to be a part of this university, and I am, very much. But I looked at that band on stage today, all the people on it so may of whom I love dearly... and I don't know. I'm proud to have been a part of that, I'm proud to be respected by those musicians. I always thought I would be glad to leave, and of course I'm glad to grow and move on. But damn, I'm proud of where I came from, and I'm thankful for it.

Sun, 04 Mar 2007 04:25:34 GMT

They finally found that woman from around here that's been missing for weeks,

cut up into little pieces in her husband's garage.

I'm sure there's a comparable list, but I'm having trouble thinking up much that's more horrifying than being murdered by the one you love. Now he's on the run, heard talking about suicide before his departure. They have two young kids.

I wonder how the children will be raised, if they have even a hope of leading fulfilling lives. I don't know what to think. If the father kills himself, they'll feel forever abandoned, I'd think. If he lives, he'll certainly live out his existence in prison. Maybe then they'll wish he had killed himself. I cannot fathom having to deal with that kind of betrayal.

And the neighbors always say the same thing, oh he's not capable of that sort of thing, not here, not now.

What an optimistic assumption to think we'll maybe get married, live past middle age, and not leave this realm via some terrifying departure.

There were accounts of them being a loving caring couple as well. It's fucking heartbreaking.

Sat, 03 Mar 2007 06:43:09 GMT

If I was any good with guitar
then this would be
a thoughtful melody
to convey the feelings within me

But I can’t strum to save my life
so we’ll have to pass
on the ambiguity tonight

All I have are my words
and they can only be so vague

But if you’d like to imagine
that this is the chorus
my voice would rise and strain
just about here,
and by the way I sang “I love you”
you’d know for certain it was true
and maybe you’d feel the vibrations
somewhere near your heart

If I could write this as a song
I’d dedicate it to you
and if we should wither and decay
I’d never sing it in another’s name

But these words will never know a tune
and I pray our love will not know ruin
and though I know that it’s too soon
to tell

Please know
that I’ve loved you from the start,
that I can’t see us apart

that if you’d like to imagine
this is a chorus
know that my voice would rise and strain
just about here,
and by the way I sang “I love you”
you’d know for certain it was true
and maybe you’d feel the vibrations
somewhere near your heart,
somewhere near your heart.