Stagnant Silt

If the world is full of color and sensation then what happened to my canvas?
What have I done? The colors have faded from a vibrant hue of reds and blues and greens and purples to a faded, dull, and stormy gray. There is no flash of lightening there is no rainbow to give hope for something different. There is only different shades of gray and empty nothingness.

Why don't I add some color? I don't know how. I don't know that I am done with this gray painting. I have been living on this canvas for so long that I am scared to start something new.

I am craving a change. Like a drug, I need something new something to move me. I haven't been moved in a long time. My spark has flickered and sputtered and is struggling to grow back into a blazing fire. There is no positivity in me anymore. There is only doubt and frustration and the knowledge that I could do something else but that I am scared to take that step.

I know how I could change things... but I know that will hurt. Change isn't very pleasant at first. It can be terrible and down right painful most of the time. However, usually there comes the bliss once it is realized that this was not for the worse.

Do I change? Do I fix my own problem? Or do I become on of the billions who settle and keep on trying to change gray into yellow?

Travel By Time

I don’t know that loving someone is really worth the pain that it will someday bring. No matter what you do, no matter what you try you will always lose the people you care about. Sometimes it will be a falling out, sometimes it will be a breaking up, and sometimes it will be death. Any way that it happens, if you let your heart be that vulnerable, if you let it open up and accept that moment where your grandpa lifts you up or you spill you heart out to your mom, or that moment when you see him or her and you heart wells up with love and you just know he /she is it.

How is someone supposed to handle that loss? How do you prepare yourself for it?

Don’t think about it. Live in the present it usually your best bet, because otherwise it would drive a girl insane. Know that the boy she kisses will someday disappear. To know the father she hugs will wither into nothingness. To know that even now her grandpa is only a memory. There are people already out of her grasp that she can’t ever reach again. Sure there are the possibility of heaven or the afterlife… but none of that is sure. None of it is secure, at least not for me. I don’t have that faith. It isn’t that I don’t believe in anything, surely there is some higher power, but what I believe in revolves about the power of the self and my power lacks when it comes to avoiding loss.

When you find that cat outside of Borders and he meows and you know, you just know in your heart that this is for you. That he is meant to be yours, to hold, squeeze, cry on, laugh at. I couldn’t avoid falling in love even if I wanted to on that night. I plunged head first into a love so deep I don’t know how I will ever not have my precious cat.

That is what I am talking about though. Is there any choice in the matter? In choice that involves living and breathing and participating in the world of humans, not hidden in a cabin far away from any person. And there of course is the question, does the feeling and those moments of love make up for the fact that someday, sooner or later, your heart…my heart will be broken and filled with a gaping hole of loss.

I barely knew him. I was 10 when he died. As I spun, danced on my tipsy toes, smiled into a crowd, he was off in the woods bleeding and looking up at the sky with dead eyes. Instantly he was gone. I never had a chance. I sat on his knee and he taught me how to catch fish. He showed me how to mow a lawn with a tractor and he laughed as I raced down the gravel driveway going 15 miles an hour on a john deer tractor laughing my 7 year old head off. Those are the only moments I really have of him. I don’t know how I can miss him so so much and yet never have really known him. I had nightmares of the night he died. Of the field and the scream that rips through my throat warning him “Don’t go grandpa. Stay here” Then the gunshot rings out. There have been dreams where he visits me. He walks with me and asks how I am doing. It isn’t a dream it is really him. He holds my hand and tells me how much I have grown. We look in on my grandmother; it hurts him to see my father where he is. It hurts him to know we are broken. And then he hugs me and he has to leave because the sun is coming and I will see him next time. Usually years away. And I wake up and my heart throbs and my arms ache because he is gone and that… that is the only time I ever see him.

I don’t know how I can stand the loss of people. I don’t know how I can stand the loss of those precious to me. I don’t know why I let them in so close in the first place.

Part of me craves to push it away. Part of me thinks I should run. But those people will always be here… they are always in my heart. Even those I thought were mine forever, those who aren’t dead still reside in there even if they are lost. They come in dreams; they come in moments when I just don’t expect it.

As much as it hurts, like now… All I want is to be held and loved so deeply that someone will understand. I want someone to miss me when I am gone, someone who wants to hold me close forever. How can I be so foolish?

I yearn to love fully. I want to be whole. I want to kiss his mouth and be swept off into our future… but there he disappears. There he leaves me alone in a house, graying and cold. Is there anything worth that pain? Is there anyway someone will love me like that.

Live in the present, enjoy what there is here and alive and in your possession you silly foolish soft hearted girl. I look next to me and smile.

Even though I can’t bear the thought of it, I would rather deal with the pain instead of those I love having to feel it for me.

Tomorrow We Begin For the Last Time

Senior year of college. The final year that you are a kid in school. Sure we are adults by age standards, but let us be honest and face that being in college rarely means you are an adult. We hang out in each other's garages avoiding hw and studying while scrambling the next day to make it to some class you don't care about to sit through and most likely fall asleep or surf the web.

I for one, will not have an adult life like this. I know there are those who just exchange the garage for a bar and a job they don't care about. I am on a path where I am going to do something I love, and while I may not love it everyday I am going to be working in the field I want to work in. How do I know this? Because I refuse to settle for less. In one area of my life I refuse to settle for less than what I really want.

The weather is perfect for school. It has cooled down some but still the sun shines and we get warm days. My schedule is pretty decent and leaves me more free time than I could ever ask for. By free time I mean the time I will be filling with studying and working for my internships and HOPEFULLY be seeing my wonderful friends.

I have some huge choices ahead of me. They are on my mind a lot.

Things I am sad about this summer... I didn't get to go to WOF yet and ride upside down rides. I didn't read even half the books I planned on reading. And I didn't finish my shot book. But I am started on that and worlds of fun may be happening in Oct and there is always more time to read. Afterall, that is what I want to do forever.

I am getting ready for friends birthdays and what not. I have a lot it seems in the fall. But I love and embrace being busy.
Martial arts is also on the agenda this year. :D

I love you

I love you. I do. I want to scream it, I want to tell you to your face over and over. I want to watch your face and kiss your lips and tell you... I love you. I didn't want to ever feel this but I do and it won't go away and that makes me happy and sad and lost and found all at once.

Could it have just been lust? Can lust turn to love?

How do you give yourself totally to someone?

Yes this is blood.

And so this is today. Today is just another third weekend saturday. Visit dad, go to eat, sit at home wishing it was no longer the weekend.

I want to be that type of girl that can do magic. The kind of girl that wants to dance in moonbeams and laugh in sunrays. My eyes would sparkle with secrets and my fingers would flow with electricity.

I have a kitty in my lap and a craving in my belly.

Today my grandma called me fat. This is nothing new and yet it stings and whittles away at my self-esteem each time. (I am 5'7 and weigh 150. I am working on dropping about 10lbs). I don't think I am FAT...even though i want to lose weight. This is just what is on my mind kind of... Why does she need to say things like that? Do I disappoint her?

Image is a frustrating thing. No girl likes the twig image. In order for a 5'7 girl to be pretty she has to be 120 image. Screw that. I enjoy have an butt and a few curves, but I can't help feeling that pressure and that need to just stop eating and get myself to that awesome twig like image. Working out of course is the healthy option but who has time? ha. ha.

Does anyone deserve what they get? Is Karma a real thing? If so... I think I deserve... Hmmmmmmmmm. I don't know honestly. i thought of funny things to say... I deserve a snickers bar, a gold star, to already be done with college, to own fiji... But none of those are serious. I realize that in time those things will come (maybe not fiji but most of them) and I am okay with waiting and working towards those goals...

I hate when my Grandmother has the TV up so freaking loud above me that I can hear what they are saying in my room downstairs.
I love this room... though I would love it more if it was decorated by me for me. This is just my room away from my real home now up at college. That is where my true spunky decorative self is on display.
I adore pictures.

I have been baking a lot lately and getting more into cooking. It is so much fun and you can alter recipes to be good or at least better for your body. Plus fresh food is so much tastier than a frozen mass of mush.

None of this matters. I just felt like talking/rambling and so here we are.

I want to write a book. I really do. I think I will... But first I am going to read now.