I have come to believe that by and large the human family all has the same secrets, which are both very telling and very important to tell. They are telling in the sense that they tell what is perhaps the central paradox of our condition—that what we hunger for perhaps more than anything else is to be known in our full humanness, and yet that is often just what we also fear more than anything else. It is important to tell at least from time to time the secret of who we truly and fully are—even if we tell it only to ourselves—because otherwise we run the risk of losing track of who we truly and fully are and little by little come to accept instead the highly edited version which we put forth in hope that the world will find it more acceptable than the real thing.


-- Frederick Buechner, Telling Secrets

The Paris Wife

More and more I found myself at a loss for words and didn’t want to hear other people talking either. Their conversations seemed false and empty. I preferred to look at the sea, which said nothing and never made you feel alone.

Ordinary days

I'm having one of those days where I just want to hide away in my tiny room, read and listen to the music I want to hear. Some days, those are all I want and all I need. I've had several friends text and call today, asking me to come out to events going on in the city tonight, but I talked my way out of each one. How nice to have a choice! I remember the days when I was just a fresh face in Seattle. The loneliest days of my life; surrounded by people, yet a stranger in everyone's midst. Although honestly, I don't think too much has changed. I'm still alone a lot, but I do have a small handful of good people that I've met who keep me entertained and I think I have gotten used to being in this place. 

Finally. 

Rather than feeling like I've been thrown into a pot of boiling water and expected to learn how to swim and survive there, the water has cooled to a mostly-pleasant lukewarm. Culture-shock has mellowed into cultural-tolerance. I've disappeared into the background by learning how to be, or at least appear superficially like everyone else. A tepid world is so passionless and blasé, but somehow insulated from the intensity of life. 

The extremes, whether they be dullness or madness, are successful in preventing too much feeling. So, for the moment, I am this new person. For the moment, I catch my breath and keep learning to master swimming in this watery madness.

Thoughts

What’s harder than starting? Probably finishing, but nothing is harder than being stuck in the middle. What is there to say? What do you want to know? Do you want to know about my family? I have 8 siblings. I get depressed thinking about how fucked up we all are, at least from my perspective. Was it our upbringing? Was it the divorce? Or is life just like that? Does it fuck you up whether or not your parents loved you to death? We feel angry and think they should have done it differently. Maybe if we hadn’t moved around so much, maybe if our dad hadn't left us, maybe if we hadn't left him. The maybes and the never knowings. Perhaps if I just throw all the maybes and what-ifs into a huge pile, something beautiful will grow out of the unsightly heap. Ugh... this story has been told countless times, we're not special. Yet, for us it's as though this is the first time ever written.

Where do I begin? Literally, where do I ... the Self of me ... begin? I just want to write and write, hoping that something will form from the madness of words on a screen. Like magic. As if a stream of consciousness can create a masterpiece of it’s own accord. If I don’t let my brain take over and edit, maybe I will arrive at order from disorder. Where does the uncontrollable begin and the controllable end? I want to feel something that can be transformed into language, like a secret code. I want to write and wring my own heart and soul. Not to feel sorry for me and not to make the world seem depressing and cold, but what if that's just what it is? Happiness is a myth that we chase. The heavy weight on your chest is the human being in a natural state. Whatever we feel must go deeper in order for it to be meaningful and the deeper we go, the farther we get from the light. Does it scare you? It doesn't scare me, because it just is what it is. It just is.

2 months?

Time flies, while it slowly creeps along. I've been gone what feels like so long now, I barely know where home is anymore. Not like anywhere felt like homehome before -- not really, not anymore, but I feel less connected to any place in particular than I've ever felt before. Feelings mixed with excitement for the freedom this gives me and then sadness of how alone I have become. Although, this is what I asked for and this is what I needed, so I am really not complaining. There is a definitive feeling of change inside me, at least change from how I felt about and saw life a year ago. I just hope this is what wisemen might call maturing and not just cynicism.

Realizing all that I don't want in life, while lightening up in areas I might have felt needlessly strong about and mildly self-indignant about has been most relieving. Allowing myself to want what I want and not carrying so much guilt and the expectations of others has been another remarkable weight I'm happy to let go of. Progress? I hope.

Or perhaps I am suffering from regular case of losing the ability to give enough of a fuck about most things. Well, I give a little bit of a fuck. Enough to worry from time to time about how serious a problem not giving a fuck might present itself some day, yet not enough to actually give too much of a fuck about this either.

The tweaking and examination of the moral compass is a bit of a scary endeavour, for me, but I am not exactly in charge of the intrinsic drive to want to examine every single jottle and tit of every single thing I have ever been told or learned. Perhaps I am, except I am certain that knowing why I know what I know is more important than just knowing things. At least having confidence that I thought something through from beginning to end and arrived at the most plausible conclusion... or none at all, but at least I earn some confidence one way or the other. At least I can confidently state that I don't know anything about anything, instead of halfheartedly thinking I know so much. Does that make sense?

I can say one thing: I am excited about the possibility of having a place to call home one day even if, with my current prospects, this seems highly unlikely.

An Experiment of Description

Opening the front door, a gust of chilly wind bursts through the entryway. Winter in July? Only in Seattle, I think to myself, almost chuckling at the absurdity. My hands dig deeper into my pockets, as if the deeper they went, the more chance they might have of finding a old pair of gloves. In the spirit of summer solstice, I decided to pack up my heavy winter clothes and accessories, hoping the act would somehow coax the mercury to make its way up the thermometer. Unfortunately, all it did was to leave me with my collection of too-thin sweaters. I’m not sure whose idea those were and what good they are even for. There are few things I dislike more than feeling cold and If it weren’t for the noise and chaos of visiting relatives in the house, I would much sooner cozy up on the couch with a hot cup of tea. But I must venture forth, or else risk finding myself giving pony rides to my 2 small nieces for the better part of the afternoon.

A light drizzle has now started and for a moment, I hesitate standing unmoving in the doorway, doubting the assertion I made to leave moments ago. The rain falls like a fine miserable mist. A drizzling, half-hearted rain shower; the kind that appears so innocuous and innocent, but I know this rain well. I know that my too-thin hoodie doesn’t stand a chance against this deceptive deluge. It is such a soaking, intrusive and impertinent kind of rain. Nature possesses a misleading kind of beauty, one that is unfazed and indifferent to the vulnerability we humans experience when at its mercy. Suddenly, a loud noise startles me from my doorway daydreams and reality, in the form of beach ball, hits me in the face, followed by half a dozen more bouncing down the stairs towards me, while a pair of laughing, rambunctious children bound down along with them. Indecision is trounced by my instinct to run before I am trapped  and quickly I pull the hood of my sweater over my head, scurrying out the door. My escape is not quick enough and behind me a chorus of high-pitched beggings and pleadings for me to come play, rings in the distance. I cup my ears and give a puzzled look, faking that I can’t hear them, as I break into a half skip, half jog in an effort to discourage them from following me.

At last. Peace and quiet... but oh this dreadful rain! I pull my hood down lower, but the rain has conspired with the wind and together they surreptitiously encroach under and around the feeble shelter covering my face. The rain collects in the crevices of my hoodie and just above my ears forming pools, and then streams which trickle down into my eyes. Rivers of rain meandering through my eyelashes, transforming the ordinary world into blurring kaleidoscope perspectives. My sleeves are soaked, but reflexively I wipe the rain-tears away and clear my vision just in time to realize I have carelessly stepped into a dirty puddle on the sidewalk. My foot impacts and then immerses into the cold water before I am able to stop myself from stepping onto the camouflaged wet mine. Dirty water sprays upwards to my face, in a spectacular fountain burst and simultaneously permeates the canvas of my tennis shoes. Quickly, I pull my foot back, but the damage has been done. My shoe is sopping wet and I mutter a variety of profanities under my breath. The rest of the walk to my car must now be accompanied by the squishing sounds of soggy-foot-in-wet-shoe. With each step I feel slurps and hear squelches as the water sucks through the spaces between my toes.

The chilling wind, once again in cahoots with the rain, threatens to freeze my toes. As the wind speed picks up, I inturn pick up my own pace, hoping to outrun this mocking duo who seem hell bent on thwarting my mission. Like a war hero returning from a long battle, the sight of my car looming closer and closer with each step kindles a feeling of victory and triumph as a surge of energy enables me to sprint the last few yards to safety. Once inside, I kick off my soggy shoe and blast the heater, resting my foot on the dashboard to defrost my frozen toes.

Mission, to the car, accomplished!  

“You couldn’t make yourself stop feeling a certain way, no matter what the other person did. You had to just wait. Eventually the feeling went away because others came along. Or sometimes it didn’t go away but got squeezed into something tiny, and hung like a piece of tinsel in the back of your mind.”

Elizabeth Strout | Olive Kitteridge

7:58am

Why does this happen? I stayed up till almost 4am watching Mad Men last night on the express condition of being able to sleep in today, my day off. And here I am wide awake, but tired as hell. My brother says I am just sensitive to light and need thicker curtains... or curtains at all. He could be right, but I have noticed a general decline in my ability to sleep really well in the last few years. There is always something in the back of my subconscience, surreptitiously tugging me awake. Assignments, work, life. I spend too much time thinking about the weightier issues in life.

I'm not quite sure if this is because I necessarily want to or if I carry a sense of guilt that I am not using my time productively. Part of me feels unfulfilled or dissatisfied by frivolous thoughts and conversations. There's a sense of urgency in knowing that life is short and a requirement to make the most of every moment. Even at ungodly hours in the morning, on a day I could be sleeping all day if I so desired, I am jolted awake as if sleep and rest were mere luxuries my wicked self could not afford.

What is so urgent? Nothing really. I know I will spend the better part of the morning frittering my time away.

Absence

One by one the doors close. Tied knots and different journeys, welcome to your new lives. I've never wanted what most people want, and really, I'm okay with the drifting. I'm okay with having no plan, no obligations to anyone, but at the same time while nothing holds me down, I feel like one day I might just drift away from everyone and everything. If nothing contains me, perhaps I'll slowly disappear. Is this me that I am okay? Most people follow linear paths, why don't I? The haphazard path, the erratic route, the biggest challenge is knowing what comes next. Deep inside I know it's not that... what you now have, but sometimes I'm afraid that I'm poles apart from everyone else.

There it is. That familiar sensation of pain, but this time it's only ever so faint. The small sting of reality and the beautiful photos...  The part of me that mourns is the part of me that is normal.

And so it is...

The sadness doesn't envelope me the same way it used to, it just quietly sits and swells in my heart. So I  lean my face towards the sun, I close my eyes and remember.

Distressed, distressed, distressed.
If you knew how much, would it change a thing?

No. Not a thing.

Meh

I'm over trying to make a good impression.
I'd rather love and be loved for the beast within, than for how skillfully we stroke each other's egos.

In my fear of losing, I hold onto small pieces of my heart. Stacking them they form a barrier between myself and others. No one can get too close. When the inevitable day comes that someone is lost, I add and the barrier grows.

Day by day a little bigger, a little more comforting.

The Silhouette of You

And if fiercely you should come to me, I would meet you.
I would run to you.
Yet, there before me, the silhouette of you, against a fading horizon.
Further and further.
We're nothing now, just ghosts.

The hands of time stretched towards us.
Entangled together they pulled us together, now've torn us apart.
The way became lost. Blackened against the night sky, the once guiding stars no longer serve,
And we drift along
Alone again.
We drift.

But we remember. Oh, we fight it; we fight to forget, but how could we?
When we once danced the dance of love's fleeting mystery.
Only to find, we're now invisibly bound.
In another of life's great tragedies.

I am astonished, disappointed, pleased with myself. I am distressed, depressed, rapturous. I am all these things at once, and cannot add up the sum. I am incapable of determining ultimate worth or worthlessness; I have no judgment about myself and my life. There is nothing I am quite sure about. I have no definite convictions - not about anything, really. I know only that I was born and exist, and it seems to me that I have been carried along. I exist on the foundation of something I do not know.
—
C.G. Jung, near the end of his life, in Memories, Dreams.

…dear, one more sigh
only this, dear, is goodbye
for our love is such pain and such pleasure
that I’ll treasure…

La Vie en Rose

Night descends. The darkness can't be held back as it envelopes the landscape, as far as the eye can see, in pallid shades of black. A daily phenomenon. The retreating sun and the lingering night. I don't spend nearly enough of my waking hours paying attention to these truly incredible occurrences. Much too much time is spent contemplating life on every level, save the very present moment and the present miracle of life that occurs with or without my paying attention. A breath of life, breathed to give life, to create life and without a second thought from myself - the one for whom it gives life. I don't have to ask for it, to work for it, to even realize it exists or desire to exist myself and there it is. Perhaps I take for granted these small miracles. They don't require my approval nor my consent, they happen beyond my awareness, and selflessly persist and exist. Thus I, persist and exist.

Should I ask "What for?" - I'm afraid to ask, but this question likes to linger in the shadow of my consciousness. Living examples of such simple complexity, the processes of life, may I ask what for? For no good reason? Perplexing to imagine that there may be no reason for any of this at all, don't you think? No, maybe let's not ask why anymore. Our human nature longs to have what it can't have. This is nothing new. To demand an answer is to confine nature to a pattern, to give it a textbook definition. Have you noticed that the deeper your desire to know all and have the answers goes, the intenser the anxiety, the greater the fear? Knowing is not our reward. Our reward comes from the acceptance of letting go. Allow the night to fall and the sun will rise tomorrow whether you like it or not.

 You can fight the setting sun, but what good will come of it? Tomorrow, the sun will rise with effortless ease and you'll wake up refreshed. The night must happen. It is not yours to control, it never was, it never will be.

Hush now and sleep in peace through your night.

Letters to a Young Poet

So don't be frightened, dear friend, if a sadness confronts you larger than any you have ever known, casting its shadow over all you do. You must think that something is happening within you, and remember that life has not forgotten you; it holds you in its hand and will not let you fall. Why would you want to exclude from your life any uneasiness, any pain, any depression, since you don't know what work they are accomplishing within you?

In the world we live in,
what we know and what we don't know are like Siamese twins.
Inseparable, existing in a state of confusion.

Confusion, confusion.

Who can really distinguish between the sea and what's reflected in it?
Or tell the difference between the falling rain and loneliness?

Sometimes a butterfly will come to sit in your open palm, but if you close your hand, one way or the other, it—and its choice to be there—is gone.

-~ Barbara Hambly (Dragonsbane)

Always Better Said as a Song

NO ORDINARY LOVE by ANGO

I guess, the good news in all this is that I once vehemently believed I would never feel anything for anyone again.

And then I did.

Thanks?

Except now I am stuck feeling sad and missing. Again, feeling like maybe I'm just not cut out to find the mysterious, lasting love for myself.

Un-Valentines

The wind whispers your smile,
Across the lake
Under starry skies
To a place I have not yet shown you
To a place
Where
My heart resides.

-- GG

When it Wasn't

Awake, as the moon half hidden behind the winter clouds shines, moonbeams like tiny icicles into my room. Brrr so cold. Alone with the moon; what a peculiar place I find myself in. I need to write because I find myself again so full of words, so full of feeling and unable to understand the extent of it all. What's wrong with me? I have to understand, because I want to get it right. Exploring, diving, reaching for answers inside me. I wish I could open myself up and find the truth. Sometimes everything becomes so muddled and unclear.

Moments of clarity in a whirlpool of confusion and chaos. Maybe that is my destiny... I just get lonely sometimes, you know? Is everybody lonely? They hide it better than I. Surrounded by people, but disconnected from everyone. What is it that opens us up to people? Why do we allow some inside, allow some to know us and everyone else has to maintain the mystery? Is loneliness selfish? It seems everything is selfish. We love so we can feel the bliss of giving to someone else, yet we also love hoping that someone else will love us in return. We love each other so we can not feel lonely, so we can brighten our own skies and make ourselves happier. It does work. It's mutually beneficial when you get it right. How selfish we are; how selfish am I to think I need someone to love.

The worst and The best

Is opening my eyes each morning. Realizing you'll never again be the first thing I see. Reaching out, you'll never be the one I touch. Ahhh we're back once again with the "nevers". Remember how we used to sleep holding pinkies? We both needed space to sleep well, but never wanted to feel too far from each other. And now, we're so, so far away and in time the distance will grow wider each day. A chasm now so deep and impassible. Why does this happen? I don't like it, I don't agree, but life goes on and in the morning I have to get up. And of course I begin to feel better. Yet I wonder if this is just the new me, that has to live with a part of my soul missing from now on? And feel the loss everyday? I'm not sure why you came back, but I understand why you had to leave.

In theory, I get it. I'm needing to summon all logical and rational thinking I can possibly muster and make myself understand.

I'm glad you came back and I got to share just a few more small moments in time with you. They're starting to feel like a blink of an eye now, though. Where did all the time go? So many memories. For whatever this is worth to you - love is not something that fades just because it's not convenient. I wish it were that way, honestly. This hasn't exactly been convenient for me. :) But you know, I wouldn't trade this whole mess of an I-don't-know-what for anything in the world. To go through life and never experience a broken heart would take away the assurance that I have, that I loved and loved so fully and completely another human being. I loved you. I think I can learn to be happy and content knowing what it was like to love someone so much. To feel the invincibility of two souls combined as one... and then, such a different feeling when those perfect souls rip apart. Heartbreak is a vital part of the human experience, I believe. It's an honest gauge of the depth and intensity of love. Maybe I use a sadistic measuring instrument, I just can't help but think that those who have never been heartbroken have never truly been swept up in the ecstasy of real love. It's a risk to let your heart go, for me - I would rather risk heartbreak and know that at least I loved completely.

Thank you for loving me, even when it was hard and even though you might now regret having done so. Thank you for being the brightest experience of my life... and honestly, the darkest as well. But what is light without darkness? The darkness has just as much a right to exist as the light, at different times in our lives. I don't hold any of this against you - this is part of the path my life has to take. Thank you for some of the most incredible experiences I have ever shared with another human being. Thank you for the little moments, when I felt so safe and close to you that I imagined nothing could ever change. Thank you for loving me in such a way that I didn't doubt you for a second. It wasn't perfect and eventually things got out of our control, but the love was always so pure, so flawless.

I guess the lesson is to be careful who you let under your skin... but then again, these things just seem to happen and you can't help how they do or how they turn out. Just saying. Not sure I could ever stop missing you completely. Here I go, trying my best.

Good luck to us both? I have no idea what the future holds, but I don't want to be afraid anymore. I've spent too many days.weeks/months in my life afraid. So, instead I will think about what this experience has done for me and what it has taught me: a lot about being human, the weakness and strength of emotion, what love is and how powerful a combination these are combined. It's still a mystery to me what I will possibly do with any of this. I don't want to replace you.

You'll never be lost to me! You've made such an impression on my heart I can only wish for you to be happy in what ever way that suits you best. I can't hold on to something out of fear of losing it, because then I will truly lose it forever. But please, promise me one thing? Please be gentle on yourself. It's a hard battle sometimes, but you also deserve to be loved and cherished and to allow yourself to love and cherish someone, too.

I'm glad you came into my life and let me love you. I hope I made you happy sometimes and you felt as safe with me as I felt with you. It's really a precious feeling. Goodbye, my sweetest memory.

"Its a new dawn, its a new day, its a new life for me" - working on the "and I'm feeeeeling gooooood" part. :) One step at a time. One step at a time.

"Only to the extent that we expose ourselves over and over to annihilation can that which is indestructible in us be found."

"Why can't we get all the people together in the world that we really like and then just stay together? I guess that wouldn't work. Someone would leave. Someone always leaves. Then we would have to say good-bye. I hate good-byes. I know what I need. I need more hellos. "

jouissance

If my feelings get hurt as often as they are, I will cease to feel pain. Is that a new theory you're working on with me, life? Ever just hurt so completely and all encompassing that you just feel nothing? I feel ground up and spit out.

You take the brunt of my frustration and hurt so well, blog. It's not always bad, but when it is it really, really is and I don't know what to do with myself. Maybe I am still in this dark place because I have a fascination with pain and loneliness. Do I romanticize suffering? It seems a common occurrence in humankind, but what benefit does it serve? Evolutionarily speaking, the irrational behaviour of humans is what sets us apart from other animals... we are, for lack of a better word, ridiculous. We want things we can't have and we pine for them harder yet when we are denied them. If we were smart monkeys we would see the unattainable object of our desire as a futile objective and move along to the next best thing that comes our way. Instead, we chase our fantasy and our desire for the forbidden and unavailable fuels our passion, then we sabotage our chances and chase them some more. A cycle of madness.

I need to think about this and figure it out.

Saving Ourselves From Ourselves.

"Lacan says that anxiety is generated when you come too close to the object of desire. This is because the aim of desire is to sustain itself as desire - if you ever really reached what you desire, desire would end because you would be satisfied. In order to continue desiring, you have to sabotage yourself when you get too close to success to postpone the moment of satisfaction as long as possible. So what you want is the possibility or hope of satisfying your desires, but no more than that. When you actually get what you desire, it's horrible, you have to construct some obstacle to keep it at a distance. What seems to have happened to you is that you believe that everything is possible, there are no obstacles, so there is nothing you want.

Fortunately, Lacan offers another mode: drive. Where desire is filled with anguish over the phantasmic lost object that it desperately wants to be reunited with and yet sabotages itself in actually achieving that, for drive, loss is the object. Drive endlessly, relentlessly circulates around the void, continually re-enacting dissatisfaction, the failure of any object to fill that void and be truly satisfying and getting a kind of inert pleasure out of it. Drive is blind and mindless, like in the Disney short The Sorcerer's Apprentice where the enchanted broom floods the room with water and can't be stopped, even when it gets chopped into pieces, it recreates itself and continues.

You create your own absence, you are the lost object. The main problem is that you are making yourself the lost object in the Other's desire. Whoever is waiting for you is dissatisfied with your absence, wondering, "Where is she!?" You are creating loss in the Other, maybe to create a place where you can belong. Your drive should circulate around your own void, not someone else's."


via my bro

It's okaaaaaaaaaay

Good things, so many good things in my life. Not going to focus on one thing that sucks and ruin a perfectly lovely fall day.

Good things.

I MISS YOU TOO EFFING MUCH! But it's 1am and I've had some drinks, so I can't trust myself, my thoughts or my feelings.

Godammit! It's so simple. I am me and you are you. How complicated does that really sound?

Mehhhhhhhh.

Dont ever tell anybody anything If you do you start missing everybody

I miss you today and there's nothing I can do, nor anyone to tell that would care or make it better. The temptation to pick up my phone and call or text is so strong, I think I will leave it at home today. :) I hardly answer my phone as it is and the only reason I seem to carry it with me and check it is to see if you have called. But why would you? I told you not to. It has been 10 days and I can't help but feel a little empty inside. I'm alright though, really. It's the way it has to be for now... or forever. No happy mediums on this one, huh? Sucks.

I have to accept that the chapter is over, the scene is done. Now if only the stars were on our side, one day. They'd align for us again, some day. Perhaps? I don't know...

Please don't forget me.

Glory Hallelujah!

People at the new jobby are cool, hardworking and professional! What a frickin' relief. AND not a single white trash, hillbilly. SCORE!!

Haha. I'm terrible, I know! But seriously, I just can't relate to those kinds of people no matter how hard I try and the last place I worked seemed to attract them. Completely different culture that I have never been exposed to. They are nice enough, but it's just hard for me (or them) to find common ground. Just the way it is. Blame God, or someone. I worked there for 2 years so I give myself for credit for that!

We're having our grand opening tomorrow and looks like it's going to be a good gig, financially, socially, plus we wear all black: mini skirts and cute shoes, but very professional looking.

Happy face! :)

Damn Songs

Making me sad. :(



Skipped some important things I needed to do today in favour of a 2 hour chat with an amazing lady I am lucky to know. I wouldn't know her if it weren't for certain people, so I guess some good can come from all the bad. She's a little older, but we're quite a like in many ways and she can relate to this 20-something-mess-of-a-self... The good news? She's in a good place now. She went through the wringer, but in the end learned the tough lessons. Her life gives me courage.

Realizing that I need to stop worrying about other people and focus on fixing my broken self. You'd think that's what I have been doing, but honestly I have not really made the concerted effort I could be. Life is a journey, I know. We'll always be a little broken, or maybe a lot. We'll always have our demons lurking in the shadows. I would at least to get to the point where I understand better why I do all the crazy shit I do... and then I guess eventually quit doing it! This last year and a half has been a definitive peeling off of layers experience, but there's more. In a way, I'd love nothing more than to bury my head in the sand and hope everything just works out magically. Yet, a bigger part of me is sick of the cycle of madness and emotional turmoil.

Something's broken and I need to fix it before I make irreversible bad decisions, that are made solely out of fear.  I'm just so tired and raw.

Am I going to survive this? If you're going through hell, keep going. Right?

"Everything passes away-suffering,pain, blood, hunger,pestilence. The sword will pass away too, but the stars will remain when the shadows of our presence and our deeds have vanished from the Earth. There is no man who does not know that. Why, then, will we not turn our eyes toward the stars? Why?"

— Mikhail Bulgakov

Umm

Ahhhh I am ruining it!!

Told you. I suck. Fix me please.

Oh and I guess this would be "successful" day 3.  I did have a moment and that moment sucked. Major suckage. One day at a time, right? One day at a time.

Useful Distractions

Useful observations.

My drama class is totally awesome, mainly because it's a class I get elective credit for AND it's nothing like a regular class. I have to do a 7-10 minute scene with a partner and one of the exercises to help us work together is the "Trust Exercise". Essentially,  my partner (who I don't know very well at all) led me on an obstacle course around the school while I had my eyes closed. It may not sound that crazy, but I was amazed on the profound affect it had on me. Number one, I realized I really don't have a high level of trust at all. Getting started was hard and I was pretty adamant that I could not really trust that he would ensure I didn't fall down a flight of stairs. My suspicions were going full throttle. Honestly, I was pretty annoyed at myself because I was trying not to feel that way, but I couldn't help it.

Eventually I somehow managed to make a deal with myself and decided I was just going to do this properly and jeez, what a difference! I felt 100% different when I made the choice to trust in my own instincts and also to trust him. All my senses were heightened, except of course for sight: touch, smell, hearing and likely if I had decided to eat something then my taste buds would have been on fire. The main difference that stood out to me was an obvious release of physical tension and then the realization that I walk around tense and suspicious more often than not. It was just a dumb activity, but I like doing things that give you something to compare a before and after. When you have a physical manifestation happen to you, it's a lot easier to go back to that feeling at a later time. If you need it.

Dumb, but good. Take a drama class! :)

The Places That Scare You

❝The essence of bravery is being without self-deception.❞ - Pema Chödrön

Tonight's Jam.

Of whatever and such

"Keep hope alive." "Never give up hope." "Where there is life there is hope." I always hear these and I often quote them, but really... why bother? What is hope good for? Hope seems to be just a carrot in front of me, that I am perpetually chasing. It's always in the forefront of my mind and I feel worried or anxious if I forget about it, for a period of time. Addicted to hope. It distracts me from the empty moments and plays like a movie that has to have a happy ending. I don't want to accept that the fantasy I impose on my life, is just that: a fantasy. It's almost like it gives me some assurance that insecurity and pain will somehow be magically exterminated.

I am starting to wonder if I am missing the point of life altogether. Starting now to realize that I have spent years of my life chasing ideals, beliefs, expectations, hope, purpose and meaning. In all honesty, I feel a bit like a dog chasing it's tail. Running in circles, and chasing that carrot, to avoid letting go of this infrastructure that makes me feel safe. But does it? The more I investigate and scrutinize everything that is supposed to make us think we know shit about anything at all, the more they seem like distractions from all that we are afraid of. We will never escape fear, but we try and try and try. If hope could somehow guarantee love and life forever, or whatever, well maybe it would be worth chasing. But it doesn't. The continual dashing of hope, the falling deeper into despair and hopelessness each time. I would much rather be at peace with my insecurities and groundlessness, than artificially cushion my fears with stories that make me feel superficially that I am okay, that I am safe.

Stay with the fear, stay with the pain in your heart, stay with the darkness and eventually you just get used to those being around you. Don't use the fantasy of hope to distract you from right now, because you need this moment and you are cheating yourself out of gaining perspective and of finding real peace in your heart and mind, if you instinctively run for the comfort of your personal daydreams. When you've closed all the emergency exits and you have nowhere to escape to, that's when your amazing superhuman strength can be manifested and when things become clear.

I guess? I don't know anything. This is all one big experiment, but in focusing on the moment, there's really only one thing I can be sure of: I'm starving!

ONE!

Successfulish.

I was in the worst of moods all day today, felt so sad, but hanging out with Mara and Altea today made me feel tons better. And I almost didn't go over there. I need to remember that sometimes doing the things I don't feel like doing at all (ie. being around people) is the thing I need to do most. Especially kids. They are so unfazed and completely engrossed in the moment. They could care less about anything that is going on that is not in their immediate vantage point. Gosh, that's got to be me one of these days.

I can only do what feels right, otherwise living with that nagging feeling inside that something is not quite right will drive me insane. It's not right, it's not okay. This is better, this is the only way it could be better - even if what I end up with is the opposite of what I want right now... it will still be better than something that feels not quite right. But maybe. Maybe it will turn out to be exactly what I want. Maybe?

Trust. So, so hard, but I have no choice anymore. The only control I have is over my own measly existence... I have no control over anything that doesn't live inside my head. Will you choose well? I hope you don't wait too long, because life is so short and it moves on regardless of how much time we take. Every step that we take: the one that could be our biggest mistake and we'll never know. That's the risk we take every single day, that we'll never really know. You have to decide if the risk is worth it. Personally? I think it is, but I see the world through rose coloured glasses (when it's not fucking me up) and I see you with those same glasses. To the core, I think we are all intrinsically good. Yet though we have all been dealt a difficult hand and under even the most difficult of circumstances, it is entirely possible to succeed in life and to live well. 'We cannot change the cards we are dealt, just how we play the hand.’ I am determined that I will live well!

Please. Fight for what you want, before it's too late. Time passes so quickly and eventually it will run out. What can we do, but just going to keep on trucking and see where we end up? That's all I can do.

It's just so cold and I miss you.

When Did it Happen That Nothing Makes Much Sense?

I remember life making more sense, once upon a time. Or did it never? Memories are tricky things.

I'm living an oxymoron as I protect myself from a good thing in order to be good and do good things. See? That makes no sense.

Okay, I'm giving myself a 30 day challenge. I'm going to post something everyday just to ensure that I am keeping my word. I've got buckets of paint, a blank canvas, figuratively speaking, and every intention of throwing the colours at the senselessness of it all. Maybe it will be something beautiful... I'm afraid it won't, but I am hopeful

Goddamn this sucks right now, no way I can pretend that it won't suck exponentially in a few days.

Oh boy... here we go...

Ouch

Ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch, tear, ouch ouch ouch, tear, ouch ouch ouch ouch.

And that's all I have to say about that.

Thanks For This.

- love is not sex - getting laid can help you remember that you're still sexy and there are other fish in the sea. self-love, likewise. Don't hang your whole sexual identity around one person
- love is not companionship - get other people in your life to spend time with you and even go to couple-y things with you if you don't like to be alone. It's okay to take a pal to a friend's wedding, it's okay to take a friend visiting your parents
- love is not medicine - sometimes it's easy to make feeling strongly about another person keep you from attenting to yourself and the absence of that feeling can be a vacuum to bad feelings about yourself. realize this effect, try to mitigate it with good treatment of yourself.
- love is not only to/from The One - there are other people who love you and who you love, most likely, reconnect with them and get a little love sent your way, even if it's friendly love or even the love of a good gerbil.
- love goes out as well as in - find other things to love in your life and it will help make you not feel like a bottled up love thermos waiting for another person to be poured into. Go love the river, or a pet, or a family member, or your local mailman, or whatever. Letting it out is a good way to practice and be ready for it to come back in as well.

But then... (When Your Heart's On Fire) Smoke Gets In Your Eyes

"Living," they say,

"is sometimes like licking honey off a thorn."

Getting better at this "feeling less" business, but could that just be telling me I am getting better at piling on the band-aids? Sometimes I feel really good, I'm just cruising. Not too high, not too low. Like I have come to accept what is and my energy levels are strong. But then, from seemingly nowhere, those thoughts creep in that make me question everything once again and I slowly spiral downwards. I hope I have learned how to catch myself from losing control... I suppose if you practice letting yourself get close to that point often enough, you eventually learn to master the come-back - yeah, that would be a theory I am talking myself into (don't try this at home, kids!). Oh Emma, Emma, Emmmmmmaaaa.

Maybe I am just confused. Perhaps I confuse my need for being alone right now to mean there is something more severely wrong than there is. That intervention on the sisters helped calm this house down and I definitely feel a sense of peace being here. For the very first time since I have been here. Which is so nice! Unfortunately, this house is riddled with memories of the awful kinds and memories of the wonderful kinds. So for awhile "home" was not the place I felt comfort and safe. It's the worst, worst, worst feeling - no escaping, no hiding, no safety. If you don't find sanctuary at home - where else could you find it? There's a heckuva lot of baggage in this place for having only been here two years, myself. But who am I kidding? There's baggage everywhere. I think I just had a moment of insanity before I moved here, thinking that moving here would be some fairy tale answer to everything. Gosh, why do I do that? In the moment, everything I imagine seems attainable and easy - but the reality of how things turn out is that they are way harder than I psychologically prepared myself for. Resulting in madness and catastrophe, of sorts. Stupid fantasies!

Time to dose reality and remind myself that life sucks, life is hard, life would love to beat me down - and no, not in a "Oh poor me!" sort of way. Just, you know. The way it actually is. It's not a fairy tale no matter how much you wish it were. Yet I can't help wishing. No, no I am not entirely ridiculous that I believe it could be a fairy tale. I just can't accept the possibility of life *actually* sucking... even if it were absolutely true, all the time. Does everyone cope with life by holding the crap it throws at you and thinking somehow this is crap in your hands is  actually something lovely?

WTF, life. I love it, then I hate it. Argh!

Black Guitar

So long as your mind falls for life then life will fall for you

And I will love you for another life and another you

But as long as you will shadow me then I won't bear the fruits

That will want to make me love you another night and another you

Black guitar gave me a song

The role of your own demise awash my tears

If the sun may blind you

I find you the moon

No one shadows

The retina of your heart

So long as your eyes follow mine then mine will fall on you

And I will blind you for another night and another moon

But as long as you will battle me then I will stand accused

With a mind that will make you wonder is there a sun or is there a moon

Black guitar gave me a voice

The famous last words all I hate is here

Moving onto urgent matters

In the end I didn't die

I didn't die

--Blonde Redhead

KeepItTogether

keepittogetherkeepittogetherkeepittogetherkeepittogetherkeepittogetherkeepittogether (ad infinitum)

A Thing

Going back to plan A, because plans B, C, D, E, F and G (etc.) have not managed to emulsify with my rebellious soul.

Pre-reqs for Nursing School - here we go.

I am

Fueling everything I feel for you into making my life awesome. And I think it's working. Did I not once say I needed to re-channel my negative energy into something productive? Well, here's re-channeling.

I hope that in this very moment you are smiling.

Extraño tu sonrisa...

Bang Gang

Learning this song on guitar. So pretty.

Bang Gang - It's Alright

Argh!

This is hard. Late at night in, a silent house, my thoughts drift to you and my hands to my phone as it stares me down, begging me to call you. Every time I do that it screws me up. The process of letting go of love when it's still alive... in both parties... is probably the single hardest endeavour one can undertake. Killing something that is living. Murdering love?

C'est la vie, c'est la vie. The past has faded to nothing and there's nowhere to go except forward. I am just too tired to go back and forth any longer. There are too many things I need a fully functioning brain/heart/mind/body to do! The limbo and the treading of water robs so much life out of me, I'm afraid of how this could end: a failed me, a decimated us.

Ah, but how I loathe the inability to see what's ahead. The ever present wish for someone to take my hand and lead me through the crazy maze of this life is always strong, but at the same time I relish this opportunity to fly completely unrestrained. We all need that sense of freedom to grow into our own skin. As different as we may be, you and I, we're birds of a feather and if we just give ourselves this time, we're going to be okay. Learning how to be right with yourself, by yourself, makes being with others work a lot better.

Must. Stay. Strong.

"But the greatest gift in the power of loneliness to bestow is the realization that life does not consist either of wallowing in the past or of peering anxiously at the future, and it is appalling to to contemplate the great number of of often painful steps by which one arrives at a truth so old, so obvious, and so frequently expressed. It is good for one to appreciate that life is now. Whether it offers little or much, life is now- this day- this hour - and is probably the only experience of the kind one is to have.

Solitude performs the inestimable service of letting us discover that it is our lives we are at every moment passing through, and not some useless, ugly, interpolated interval between what has been and what is to come. Life does not know such intervals. they can have no separate identity for they are life itself, and to realize this makes what has seemed long and without value both precious and fleeting. The fleeting present may not be just what we dreamed it might be, but it has the advantage of being present, whereas our past is dead and our future may never be born."


Nevertheless... ARGH!!!

Perhaps it is comforting to know that there is no one alone in feeling alone.

It's okay.

Never stop thinking. This is important. If someone ever says to you ‘You need to stop thinking so much,’ call them ignorant in your head and keep thinking deeper. It is this mentality that breeds stupidity. Your mind is the most important tool you have, if you stop using it, it will shrivel.

I get that there's a time for everything, but it's so rare to hear encouragement to think more, think harder. Diving into the depths of life and all that it is, or isn't, is an adventure that I can't understand anyone not wanting to take. No, that's a lie. I GET it. It's hard frickin' work, it's a little scary at times, it's a little lonely at times, and perhaps crippled with a touch of running circles around issues with no answers. But honestly, do you think that remaining in a bubble of what you've always known just because it's comfortable and safe is good excuse for remaining there? Too many people are stuck in their bubbles. I feel like walking down the street popping them one by one. Let life happen to you.

Sometimes I feel a little guilty. Right now I am still experimenting with who I am, what I like, what I want and what I think. It takes a lot of thought to go through everything and I feel a little selfish in having particular needs: ie, a strong desire to not be around most people. Maybe I am still protecting myself from the pain of wounds that are still open, but it's a good excuse for me to hide from the world and explore everything. Free from pressure to please anyone or worry about their opinion of me. (I know, my Achilles' heel. Buh!)

I don't dislike anyone - I'm just in observation mode. Participating, but with observation and education being the driving forces behind this. One of the things I have learned to enjoy the most is stretching the boundaries of what I think I am capable of doing. Dumb things even. Acting! I have never taken a drama class in my life and have never thought I could be an actor of any kind (too shy/worried about people's judgements), but as part of my resolution to take steps to not be held back by irrational fears... to not LIMIT myself due to irrational fears... I'm in an acting class. Woop! It's still early days and I am yet to actually do a monologue or memorize lines, buuuuut that will come shortly. Anyway. Something silly, yet quite effective for this endeavor of mine.

If I could impose one rule on myself it would be this: Don’t take anything too seriously.


Oooh thunder.

 I don't want the world, I just want your half.

Spoken Louder than Words

I Want You to Know One Thing

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine

-- Pablo Neruda

Everything Carries Me to You

Whoa! So, lucky me. Rather than a triumphant re-entry from my 2 and a half month hiatus, like I planned. The gods decided it would be far more fitting if I stumbled back into the city, tripped over my feet and cast a small shadow in my direction that's brought a shroud of grey with it. Oh the lovely hues of grey that I have become well acquainted with these past 2 years. But you know? I think I am at a point where I can handle melancholy with some measure of dignity and less agonizing. Commence skin thickening process!

And yet, it feels good to be back! Today was my first day of class, for which I promptly rose from peaceful slumber at the dreadful 5:30am hour, the hour where sound and life do not exist. Not TERRIBLE considering I am still wrestling with my jetlag, but slightly terrible that I didn't have anywhere to be for 4 more hours. No matter. I had tingles of excitement shooting down my spin even as I pulled into bumper to bumper morning rush hour traffic. The air was crisp, the sun was shining, KEXP played on the radio, and excited for my classes I had one of those tremendous moments of peace in my soul. Shrouds of grey, what? I think peace and turmoil can coexist peacefully. There's no rule that says a sucky situation has to turn into a crisis, but I think you only learn this once you have gone through a few sucky situations and found out (much to your surprise) that you actually survived. Remarkable to understand how this is possible, now. Anyone who would quote "What doesn't kill us, makes us stronger." a year ago, would have received multiple pies in the face from me.

You got to make it your own way
But you'll be alright now sugar
You'll feel better tomorrow
Come the morning light now baby

I'm really quite lucky, I realize this. I have the freedom to take off for months on end, to return to a city because I want to, my commitments (or lack thereof) affect no one but me, I can return from taking off for months on end to a clean slate and a chance to do better. I'm not stuck. I really could do whatever I want, right now. That's exactly what I am going to do, starting with a giant breakfast of champions... :)

Busy thinking thoughts about things I've thought and need to think through. Hey, what's new? It's all gonna turn out ok, right? Oh look, there's a light at the end of the tunnel! :)

You ditch it all to stay alive...

...A thousand kisses deep.

HAD I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,

Enwrought with golden and silver light,

The blue and the dim and the dark cloths

Of night and light and the half light,

I would spread the cloths under your feet:

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;

I have spread my dreams under your feet;

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

W.B. Yeats (1865–1939)

Something was Broken

...And so I took a running leap and jumped over the edge of a cliff. It was a very, very uncomfortable, unpleasant feeling and I started to fall. Today, that fall hasn't stopped, I'm still falling. But in a way I've gotten used to the sensation of it and in a way I kind of like the sensation of it a lot better than where I was before the jump.

“Like the wisp of a dream I can barely remember.”

I lean into your eyes; those milky apertures

transparent with the film of a lifetime.

*strangle strangle*

When and if circumstance seem to be different, is it not fair to consider reassessing a situation? OR is it completely unfair that I should be once again in a situation where I actually vocalize the words "consider" and "reassess"...

What.
Do.
You.
Want?

Ughhh a little over a week till I am back in Seattle and I feel a furry of emotions.

What's going on? Why are you still around? I thought this was dead and buried. Should I ask? Or should I just keep aimlessly wondering and asking my blog? I could just disappear and never surface again... But my goddamn curiosity is curious! Buhhhhhhhh.

BUUUUHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhh

Rameau’s Nephew

❝Rain or shine, it’s my habit, about five of an evening, to go for a stroll in the Palais-Royal. It’s me you see there, invariably alone, sitting on the d’Argenson bench, musing. I converse with myself about politics, love, taste, or philosophy. I give my mind license to wander wherever it fancies. I leave it completely free to pursue the first wise or foolish idea that it encounters, just as, on the Allée de Foy, you see our young rakes pursuing a flighty, smiling, sharp-eyed, snub-nosed little whore, abandoning this one to follow that one, trying them all but not settling on any. 

In my case, my thoughts are my whores.❞

--Denis Diderot

But we're getting better at simplifying things... maybe.

This. Song.

♫Elisa - Dancing

Dunno really. Just one of those songs that comes around again and again. Haunting me. 

--- In a beautiful way.

In the Symposium, Socrates says:

❝Even during the period for which any living being is said to live and retain his identity. [Man] he is always becoming a new being and undergoing a process of loss and reparation, which affects not only his body, but his soul as well. No man's character, habits, opinions desires pleasures pains and fears remain always the same: new ones come into existence and old ones disappear.❞

Socrates often brought people to the realization that they were not the best they could be, and perhaps they did not know what they thought they did.

❝I go around doing nothing but persuading both young and old among you not to care for your body or your wealth in preference to or as strongly as for the best state of your soul, as I say to you: Wealth does not bring about excellence, but excellence brings about wealth and all the other public and private blessings for men.❞

Socrates truly believed that "the unexamined life is not worth living." To know your soul must be the prime focus of life, not just a superficial quest for possessions and wealth. He felt that people far too often forget what they should be doing and what they should be concerned with. By endeavoring to get in touch with the inner self, it becomes a necessity to clear away some of the forces that hamper our search for virtue and self-knowledge.

I think maybe he was the wisest because he knew that the search for virtue and truthfulness was in fact a journey within -- a journey to understanding yourself, your soul, and to making it as pure as possible. The journey doesn't require a thick rule book, rituals or reverence to deities unseen. It just requires a willingness to travel the road. Accept change and accept that as old fears, pleasures and pains disappear, new ones come into existence. Easier said than done. We're afraid of what lurks beneath the surface of the unknown. Perhaps nothing? (What can be scarier than nothing? Seriously.) Perhaps we subconsciously fear the truth, afraid we'll be crushed by the enormous responsibility of it's discovery.

At the mention of Socrates, what comes to mind first? Most likely "the good life", wisdom and justice. Virtues we should all strive for, but one thing is missing to make a most powerful combination. It is a virtue we must work hardest above all to possess: Bravery. Fear devalues and eventually obliterates the worth of our principles, it rocks the core of the mental foundation of our existence, of the reality we create. Facing the unknown, Socrates chose not to fear - we are given the same choice, if we dare take the first step:

"Know thy soul" "Know thyself"

❝I still find each day too short for all the thoughts I want to think, all the walks I want to take, all the books I want to read and all the friends I want to see.❞  ~John Burroughs

Do you make bad romantic choices?

❝ In the past, yes I most certainly have. Who hasn’t? Love won and love lost is part of the human experience. Show me someone who has never made a bad choice and I will show you someone who has never lived. You would think having an extremely strong sense of empathy would help in affairs of the heart, but without a solid foundation in self they only serve to perpetuate confusion. In my day-to-day life I often had trouble discerning energies and emotions which arose in myself from those of others. This was only magnified by intimate relationships. After a number of daunting experiences, I realized that I would have to fully illuminate my empathy or be destroyed by it. This led me on quite a difficult yet rewarding journey and having lived it I know I am stronger for it.

My advice to all who may find themselves inundated by empathy: Define your sovereign borders before you define yourself with another. Until you can, your journey must be a solitary one. Many of our greatest challenges are actually our greatest strengths in disguise. Once you realize this you are already on your way towards their actualization.

But back to the matter at hand, romance.

Romance is often at odds with logic, and sometimes even intuition. The trouble with romance is that we mistake the sways of passion for something we believe is love. However, Love does not make us insane, it instills a sanity and depth most of us travel our whole lives without ever knowing. The irony is that we are not missing some obscure puzzle piece, or that we have not yet found the right person.
Do you want to meet the love of your life? Look in the mirror.❞
— Katie Byron

(via metaconscious)

I'm trying to work on myself and need affirmations that it's okay for me to do this alone. Everyone around me is in a relationship and there's this sort of unspoken pressure that I couldn't really be happy single. Perhaps a self imposed pressure. Love, love, love. It is truly a beautiful thing. What's not beautiful about it is the rejection, the loss, the heartache. I could live without those for awhile! Love itself is beautiful.

Recently, a cute boy recommended for me to read The Alchemist, a fable about life, passion and dreams. I had started it years ago, but got distracted with nothing in particular and never found the right moment to pick it up again till he reminded me. So I'm finishing it off now and quite pleased. It's a book that has gotten a lot of flack for being blunt and simple, for characters that lack depth and complexity, for the religious mambo-jambo mixed in, but at the heart and soul of this book lies much meaning. A life philosophy expressed in a fable, without restraint and subtlety you might find in a great literary work. But it's within this imperfect, simple writing that your thoughts are provoked and you find yourself delving into the chasms of secret hopes and dreams. I don't know, it works for me.

I like asking questions. It's an annoying habit of mine. Well, not annoying for me, but maybe for others. Asking questions of myself is so important, why wouldn't it be important to ask people/strangers/friends questions? So I ask myself today; what will I do with that feeling, that pulling and tugging in my heart? Will I drown out the voice of the passion I feel for something that might go against what others expect of Me? "Purpose is the place where your deep gladness meets the world's needs". What makes me glad? The world needs our gladness and our passion. I know it sounds cliché, but for someone like myself who has trouble separating my energies and emotions from others' - regularly taking deep, hard looks within my heart is something I need to always be reminded to do.

I'm going to go finish reading...

The boy and his heart had become friends, and neither was capable now of betraying the other. --
The Alchemist

New Things

New book.
New movie.
New boots.
New tee.

Buhhhhhh

I am no writer. That 215800 challenge I have been attempting is BULLSHIT and has made me realize once again that I suck at most everything. Not writing because I haven't felt *inspired* about anything. What's up with me needing *inspiration* before I can do anything?? OH WELL. I'm not going to let it get me down. I guess I am just a person who relies on inspiration for everything.

LAME.

OH. WELL.

The Thinking Thoughts You Think

(via abeautifulrevolution)

1:07am

I have nothing to say at this moment.

Goodnight, internet.

Hope

(via stuffnoonetoldme)

❝I heed echos of your laughter in the corners of my mind

While I memorise each detail of your intricate design

In your hair there is a symphony

Your lips, a string quartet

They tell stories of a Neon Valley Street

Where we first met

now somewhere time pursues us

As we love in Technicolor

But I dwell in silence on your words

Which move me like none other

This time I shall be unafraid

And violence will not move me

this time we will relax

This time we will stay in our movie

I see beyond tomorrow

This life of strife and sorrow

My freedom calls and I must go. ❞ 
- Janelle Monae

"Can I get a makeover?!?", the blog begged.

The self-conscious, insecurity we had always suspected it possessed is now revealed.

Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals Finals

*zoink*

800 Words

Of homework.

Yuck.

Goodnight!

21.5.800

A challenge.

I'm always down for a good challenge. Especially if it's anything to do with getting the emotions flowing, the energy balanced and the mind clear. I'm not an especially talented or eloquent writer, but it is something I enjoy and an activity that I can pin down as beneficial to the soul. Yoga and writing help me make sense of the mumbo jumbo that passes through my brain constantly. Yoga to loosen the emotional blockages, and writing to release the pressure. I'm not great at it, but that's okay. I don't do this for anyone's entertainment, I do it for me. That said, I would like to be a better writer, and seeing technical improvement, because it is nice to feel good about what you spend your time doing. My sister read me a quote the other day that didn't resonate with me until just a moment ago.  I'll let it speak for itself.

❝ Anything worth doing is worth doing poorly -- until you can learn to do it well.❞ - Zig Zigla

 I'm starting to think everyone feels rather insecure about their creations. Music, art, writing. We're afraid others will not appreciate what we've made because it tends to arise from the secret and hidden places in our souls. Places that are afraid of disapproval, rejection and withdrawal.  We become vulnerable through specific combinations of words; to make poetry, through a contemplative placement of colour to paper; to make art and through a sequence of musical notes and sounds; to make music. It's quite remarkable when you think about it, yet it is this that we are made of and what our reality consists of. Life is just one subjective experience of art - whatever that means to you personally - and the more honest and vulnerable the better.

...“Do you know what hurts so very much? It’s love. Love is the strongest force in the world, and when it is blocked that means pain.

“There are 2 things we can do when this happens. We can kill the love so that it stops hurting. But then of course part of us dies too. Or, Corrie, we can ask God to open up another route for that love to travel. [...] Whenever we cannot love in the old, human way, Corrie, God can give us the perfect way."

I did not know, as I listened to Father's footseps winding back down the stairs, that he had given me more than the key to this hard moment. I did not know that he had put into my hands the secret that would open far greater rooms than this --places where therewas not, on a human level, anything to love at all.

Corrie ten Boom, (April 15, 1892 – April 15, 1983) was a Dutch Christian Holocaust survivor who helped many Jews escape the Nazis during World War II

I'm not going to pretend I understand (much less possess) that kind of love, courage, altruism, what it means, and what it's all for. Regardless, I can't help but respect. And it's interesting -at least to me, to see from where people pull such extraordinary strength.

Enamorada

Preguntas Hermosas from Süperfad on Vimeo.

This is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. Tortured. wounded and broken souls create masterpieces. "Blessed" is a word whose origin is rooted in the latin word for "wounded". I love that I know such amazingly talented people. Siiiiiiiiiiigh.

Paris is For Lovers

YOU NEED THIS.

oOoOO - Hearts ♥

Must.
Have.
This.
Track.

#thingsthatmakeyougoawww

An amazing birthday surprise to a bus driver from his company in Denmark. He came into work to cover for a worker and this is what they ended up doing for him.

Portland, OR

3 days of meditation, yoga and peace of mind this weekend. I can't wait! I have never been to a retreat before, nor to Portland, so I am pretty stoked.  Yoga was one of my saving graces last year and I think it helped me churn through a lot of emotion. I just feel a lot more aware of what is going on inside of me and more focused inwardly - when I need to be. I do a style of yoga called Amrit Yoga: "meditation in motion, transforming the philosophy of yoga into experiential reality-transcending every aspect of your being. This practice integrates joyful inner stillness with effortless outer action in the world." The daughter of the yogi who founded this method is running the retreat and giving classes. She's lovely!

Unfortunately, I do feel a little under the gun, as finals are coming up next week, but this is when it was happening so there was little choice. Have to take care of the soul and give it priority even if the timing is not ideal. That's the lesson we learn from yoga anyway; "it is a metaphor for life. The skills of mindful attention and meditative awareness you develop on the yoga mat extend to challenges you encounter in life. Painful transition periods, relationships and crises can become opportunities and openings for personal transformation."

I have a new book to read for the drive there and back. Conditions of Love, by John Armstrong which is supposed to be an exquisite philosophical inquiry into the many dimensions of love and intimacy in relationships. Should be fun. :)

NAMASTE!

noʎ ssıɯ

Trentemoller - Miss you |HD| from ozan oz on Vimeo.

Full Screen. Drift.

Cool

I have a real life "astrotwin" with pretty much an identical chart to mine. He found me, and we're friends now. He lives in Berlin.

Internet, you're kinda cool sometimes.

And Yes

I do believe that in a world which cannot fully satisfy the human spirit and a world that leaves each of us with a gaping void, you are at liberty to superimpose whatever experience you wish into something that is healthy, does not harm yourself or anyone else.

You also have permission to distract yourself and escape from your current emotional state, for a moment of reprieve, a moment to breathe. And yes, you also have permission to feed, overload and deluge your emotional state, if need be, if doing otherwise would overwhelm you. As if our emotions are something bad or evil that we should keep under a lock and key? They hold the secrets to surviving and thriving and should be fully explored by whatever means works for you. Dive into music, art, dance, self expression, poetry, fantasy, creativity of any kind. The point is to get whatever's inside there, outside. Things you may not even know you had in you. Suppressed... repressed - no good can come from either of these...

Just be gentle and kind to yourself and to others. As Plato once said, we're all fighting a hard battle.

Meaning.

The complications of love, the struggle to "find our purpose", incessantly wrestling our demons. What all for? Can't help but feel life is rather pointless in most every way imaginable.

Yet somehow there is... music. What is it even? Music is the strangest thing. Sounds that fill you with intangible hope, that express your innermost fears and desires when words fail. When people fail. It's not something you can touch, feel or describe in a way that makes sense to anyone else -- other than how it touches you, how it makes you feel, personally. Your experience, is yours.

Music is made of magic. It will never break your heart... it will assuage an implacable soul and soothe your mind and body, when nothing else can.

At least. AT LEAST we have that.

Carry on.

LCD Soundsystem @ Sasquatch 2010

LCD Soundsystem got the ENTIRE Main Stage in a moment of synchronized dancing. *sigh* (happy sigh :)  ) We only live once people! do/experience/live what you love, always.

(via abeautifulrevolution)