I Was Young Enough I Still Believed In War

How do we all end up the way we are?

Why is it that some people turn out confident, and overzealous while others seem uninterested in just about everything? Or how others can form coherent sentences while others struggle to get across messages as simple as "may I please use the bathroom?". I know that there are simple answers to these questions, but it still seems so.....human. Almost in a cruel way.

And why do I wake up some days and feel completely grounded and sane, only to make a U-turn within a couple of hours and feel no relation to where I am or who I'm with?

Why is it that sometimes when you need "home" most, your own "home" feels less welcoming than anyplace else? Just like Andrew in Garden State explains, you get to a certain point in your life where that idea of home is just lost?

I think it's unfair that the times you feel most like a screaming are the times where you can't seem to make any sounds escape from your black hole of a mouth.

Heavy Hearted Goodbye

Goodbye. I hate the word. I hate the sound of it. I hate what it feels like to hear, whether from your own mouth or another's. Why is it that everything has a positive and a negative end? It makes it impossible to brood in peace. As Summer comes to it's inevitably bittersweet close, I can't help but feel this massive itch inside myself. A hole that just a few, short weeks ago was filled with lazy Summer day dreams and the pleasing smell of coconut sunscreen, is rapidly becoming a safe harbor for productive thoughts and the sound of pencils scratching across crisp, lined paper. And the greyest of clouds blocking the sunshine from my days is threatening a downpour of massive proportions. Can't saying goodbye be easy? Could it be that sometimes the sweetest of times occur within the shortest of time frames? Months, weeks, days......And those are always the hardest to let go of.

Lucky for me, I fill my voids easily and quickly.

Trouble, Oh Trouble

"You're eatin' my heart away and there's nothin' much left of me"

Now for a little something of my very own creation:

losing your shadow as the crowd tears it from your skin
best stop cutting your puppet strings
they'll catch you lying through your teeth
and they'll just as soon sew your truths
hang them up for all to see

losing the star that's guiding you through
to pale yellow streetlamp light
taste the salt pressed to your cheeks
convictions splinter beneath your feet
hang them up for all to see

wake up you're metal heart
bring it back to me
wake up your metal heart
bring it back to me
don't fall any further down
without taking me with you

I'll fall asleep with the phone resting on my stomach
So if the world is spinning too fast
Come to me and I'll slow it down
I'll keep a foot inside your circle
I could never let you go
Under my skin, You've gotten under my skin

Write away who you are
Cause you're only playing a part
I couldn't see through
And all I wanted was you
And I would kill off my light
To hold you even through eternal night

Copyright 2010

Don't Waste Your Time, I Mean You're Already a Voice Inside My Head

Do you ever stop and really examine your day? Every thought, every word, every action...only to realize that you did absolutely nothing important. And the funny part is that, for me at least, lying in bed all day writing or even just sleeping feels so much more proactive than running errands. I can't stand myself when I'm playing the society game. I fear that as I grow older my introverted tendencies will only worsen. I enjoy being by myself too much. I enjoy wasting time too much. I enjoy doing things that benefit my mind, body, and spirit rather than society. Ghandi said to "be the change you wish to see in the world"; I completely agree with that statement, but I can't bring myself to believe that planting a tree would make my heart feel warmer than a warm cup of mint cocoa and my Westside Story DVD. Does that make me selfish? God, that does make me selfish. I'm almost ashamed of myself, but maybe by sorting this all out in the open I can make sense of it. I feel that taking time to get to know oneself, to forge a friendship with oneself, is the only way to successfully understand who it is you want to be, and in turn how you are going to leave your mark on the Earth before the time comes for you to leave it. Although I would use the word impulsive to describe myself, I feel that when it comes to the big stuff it's all about preparation. If I don't feel ready to leap, then why not stop and take an extra breath? Not every decision you make in life comes equipped with a second chance guarantee, in fact very few do. And for people like me who tend to disregard the consequences for just about everything, it's not smart to rush into a decision that may just have a much larger impact than initially expected.

I don't really know how I got so off topic. The main point is, I feel that I haven't done anything truly important in a very long time. And who am I to say anything I've ever done was important? I need to create something and put it out into the world in order to feel like i'm contributing somehow. I'll have to replace another excerpt of ridiculous, psycho babble with something I've written lately sometime. Perhaps tomorrow. I tend to save the good stuff for my journal, and the insanity for the blog.

I'm going to invent a pie. I'm going to finish my song. I'm going to post my cover of Lua on Youtube. I'm going to finish the two books I've been simultaneously reading. I'm going to continue to take my vitamins daily, as well as sweat through 100 sit ups and breathing. There are not enough hours in the day to read, be productive, and satisfy my need to create words and music. Note to self: Your life isn't that hard, stop complaining.

Sleep sweet.

P.S. A Love Song For Bobby Long was wonderful. It made me fall in love with my guitar again. I sort of disregarded it for a week as I've been teaching myself how to play the piano. I'm slowly making progress with the UP score.

The Author

You all know of the story of Excalibur I'm sure; the magic sword that can cut through stone. Excalibur was the sword that didn't crack...

When a sword is made, the iron smith begins by taking a piece of iron and placing it in a red, hot furnace. Next, the sword is placed on a metal table and pounded until it takes a shape. Then it is immediately dunked into cold water, only to repeat the three step process again. Once in awhile the metal cannot take the drastic temperature change, and cracks. If, and when, this happens, the iron smith will toss the piece of scrap metal aside. As soon as enough of the scrap metal is collected, the iron smith will heap it together and melt it over to be used and made into a sword once again.

You can use this aphorism to depict yourself as either the iron smith, the sword, or the scrap metal, but either way I think it is a clever way to look at life. Sometimes you find yourself in the furnace (your boyfriend is cheating on you, your mother is abusing you, you are addicted to cocaine). Other times you find yourself being pounded (you are failing a class, you get into an accident, you locked your keys in the car). And other times you find yourself in the cold water, immersed in relief (you get engaged, you have a beautiful, healthy baby, you receive a large inheritance from a long lost, and recently deceased relative). But the process is, well, just a process. You are going to have days where your in the furnace, and you are going to have days where you are in the cold water. But in the end, you can choose to be Excalibur. In the end, the ones who hurt you are the ones who cracked and became scrap metal.

Everything is connected my friends. Everything.

East of Eden

My favorite part of my favorite novel, East of Eden, is one that occurs soon after Adam returns to the Trask farm from the army and his travels. Charles confronts Adam about how although Adam did not love Cyrus, yet Cyrus had more love for Adam than Charles. Adam goes on to explain that when you do not love someone, you tend to have more faith in them. How when you love someone, you grow suspicious of them, hurt them...

Personally, I agree. When you do not love someone, their actions will not affect you; you invest your faith in them, because you know if they let you down there is a shorter distance you will fall. It's just the same with most every situation, human nature tells us to pick the easiest route, and the more we fight against it, the more we end up losing; our faith always goes with our losses each time as well.

Loving someone is like jumping into open water, senses cut off, defenses lost. We rely all too much on our senses, and we are defenseless without them, but when you love someone, you have to learn how to use those senses all over again. It's scary as Hell, or so I've heard....

Well I'm still trying to figure out if I believe that loving someone who did not love you back counts when someone asks, "Have you ever been in love?".

The way I could explain it would be:

I've loved someone with all my heart and soul, but I have never been in love.


what do you think?

I'd Do It All Again

I hate the decisions I make when I am thinking clearly...

The other night I was lying in bed, listening to Hide and Seek on repeat on my iPod. I don't know what it is about that song, but every time I hear it it makes me so sad that I have physical heart pains. It must have been around 2 am, and I know I was the only one in the house who was awake. And through the pain, I came to realize that I was smiling. My heart had been dormant for so long; I had been running from any form of emotion for weeks, maybe even months. The feeling I had was similar to the first breathe you take after being underwater for too long. Magnified relief. I am a masochist. I create the situations that ruin me. Maybe I enjoy the process of putting all the pieces back together, knowing I can make them fit however pleases me. But I truly believe that there is something wrong with my choice of a hobby. Every line is blurred. I am haunted by the demons of the ones I love, and the ones that may or may not love me.

please explain this

Macbook

Working at Jamba Juice, making overpriced smoothies for the yuppies of Southern California has never felt more rewarding than in this moment, as I am typing my first blog since October on my brand new Macbook!

Maybe this computer will make it easier to stay in touch with the cyber world I tend to hide from.