until they sparked.

i looked down the line. faces from my past rushed at me,
some with their smiles, some with their hands shoved into the pockets of their jeans.
i saw brunettes and toe-heads,
their heights and eye colors ranging from one end of the spectrum to the other.
i don't repel guys, i realized with slight surprise, scratching my head.
quite the contrary; i attract them and then have no idea what the fuck to do with it.

a world full of first kisses, both drunken and sober, a stomach full of butterflies, the awkwardness of intimacy, and the heart shattering moments of secrets exist amongst this group.
it is what ties them together, permanently bonded by at least one thing:
me.
i am what they have in common, whether our time together ended well of with jagged edges, dropped like a careless glass bowl.

i run my eyes over their faces, locating where each of them hits me;
my heart, my brain, my fingers. feelings lighting up in patches all over.

they are waiting, for something.
not for me, but for me.
what is it? i rack my brain as they wait, patiently, for me to understand.
they are not waiting for me. i don't want them, and they sure as hell don't want me.
yet still they stand there, feet shoulder width apart, looking like they know, just know,
it will come.
and it does.

it hits me like a truck, nearly knocking me off of my feet; i lose my breath, my existence temporarily suspended.
they are not waiting for me. they are waiting for me to realize that they are not waiting for me.
i should not be waiting for them. i should not be waiting for anyone.

smiles crease their faces.
they turn and shake hands, like doctors who have finally diagnosed a patient after years of not understanding the symptoms.
as i watch, they file silently out the door; some throw a wave, some don't even look at me, some give a lingering glance,
and my breath comes back to me as they leave me, as much as they can.

this is where i find myself slightly giddy at the thought of having no one in the room with me.
what have i been waiting for? what am i waiting for? have i just been too damn stubborn to listen?
yes, i answer softly, with a chuckle. of course.
and i stand here, on my own two feet. this is me, and you know what? i am damn proud.

i hear life is a journey, not a destination. my anziety riddled days have been haunting me, leaving me speechless, wandering aimlessly down streets and avoiding eye contact with those who have discovered this lesson.
i am young; but not so young that i should be here still. so what?
tomorrow is a whole new day. and really, that's all i have to worry about.
time to take part in that journey,
throw my hands up like a rollercoaster and remember to breathe.

my life is my art.

i have made a decision to live
fantastically, phenomenally, ridiculously.
there is not enough time.
there is simply not enough time.
so many words, so many thoughts,
so many visions that jolt from my body,
that rattle my veins and brain and bones.
i can't type them fast enough,
i can't count the lose papers, ripped and bent,
my moleskines, and napkins,
that litter my floor
and my head.
they are covered in sketches and scribbles,
notes for the future and reflections on the past.

"my life is my message" said gandhi,
and though i'm no example for the the world
i will write that on my arm until i remember.
i can't get everything inside of me,
the worry, the anxiety, the excitment, the hope,
out fast enough.

there is not enough time to give life to all i see.
and so my life will be my art.
an ever evolving, growing, changing, wondrous,
terrifying masterpiece.
i am at a frightening moment where i feel as though
i can physically shape my world,
create it.
life is an experiment.
one of those fantastic explosions you created in chemistry class.
full of light and color so magical
you want to forget how you got there
and just stay
frozen in that heat,
in that feeling.

you must create that feeling.
i must be that feeling.
be the light,
be the heat.
people will want to be frozen in your moment,
in the time you shape when you are around them.

look at your life.
look at it in the expressions of those faces around you.
realize what you can create,
who you can become,
who you already are.

time to pretend.

i am pretending to be..

a writer.
in a world with constant background music.
a gypsy.
a reader.
an artist.
a person who lives her life without regret.
and a person who lives in love.
and it's true -
i think i am pretending less
and becoming more.

attitude is everything.

why can't we all be this happy about everything?

simple thoughts.

i'm a fairly simple girl - it doesn't take a lot to make me happy.
i think that every day is an exercise in being content
and it is something that does need to be mastered continually.

the all-powerful 'they' say that familiarity breeds contempt --
and i would have to say that the mysterious collective is right.
we are surrounded daily by so many wonderful things
that we take for granted the little luxuries - the things that make up the good life.
and once again, 'they' say-
if you blink,

you just might miss it.

i think one of the things plaguing our society is that
we are always trying to meet someone else's definition of
happiness, beauty, wealth, success, intelligence, etc..
creating definition of the good life for yourself is two-fold.
it allows you to be satisfied with what you have created for yourself

while freeing you from trying to meet others' expectations.
this in turn frees you to notice all of the other great big
and little things around you that truly make your life great.

what does happiness mean to you at this point in your life?
make a vague overview
and some slightly specific goals
and change them as you see fit.

find the good life in the present.
if you need a house of your own, a nice car,
a killer career, a packed closet, a rock star husband,
 perfect abs, a full passport to feel fulfilled -
MOST OF YOUR LIFE WILL BE SPENT WAITING.
this doesn't mean that you shouldn't be striving for the future

and moving towards your goals,
it simply means that they should only be a part of your current contentment.
all small victories you are achieving now deserve to be celebrated.
as for your failures?
celebrate them too.
for each one will bring a lesson to you and perhaps
even further create your future and character.

pick one thing that makes you tingle and make sure you do it everyday.
this way, even if you're financially or logistically able to
devote a lot of time to your ultimate goal or purpose at the moment,
you will find happiness in the present.
and be nuturing the simple part of you that belongs to joy.

surround yourself with people that make you happy.
encourage, exude and drip passion from their pores,
inspire creativity, nourish your spirituality,
cause laughter to leap from your lungs,
and uplift you.
place people around you who are fiercely positive
and will help lead you to the places you want to go.

do.not.compromise.

it adds to the value of your life exponentially
to add the value of those lives around you.
volunteer in an area that makes your heart beat faster,
mentor a child, feed the homeless,
donate cash to a worthy cause - you get the point.
and once you do get that dream job,
land a record deal, find the perfect pair of jeans,
manage to cure cancer -
be the kind of person in someone else's life that you had in yours
and got you to where you are.

be able to find the small things enchanting.
and allow yourself the small indulgences.
what is that little luxury that's worth indulging in now
and not waiting until you 'make it'?
what can you give youself that nourishes every facet of you?

define the passage of time.

pick a bad experience.
let time blur the details and shift the focus off the pain.
write about it in a new voice.
mature the wisdom of understanding.
see what was once a mistake as an invaluable part of life.
view what was once ugly from a new angle,
so that it becomes beautiful.

that old song and dance.

it’s strange how some songs can make your stomach spin or your heart jump into your throat, how just hearing the first note brings back everything you thought you stopped feeling, a familiarity for something you didn’t realize you still longed for.
it can change a mood instantly, it can turn the curve of the corners of your mouth up or down depending on which memory comes to mind first.
and sometimes the sound can make you feel like you’re drowning as it plays on, and you start to sink deeper and deeper in it as the beat as it gets louder and louder, so loud you can’t even hear your heart.

but sometimes it makes you want to dance between the words and surround yourself in its warmth and blanket yourself with its metaphors and similes that only you can understand.

it seems like there’s always that one song that does this to you, no matter how new or how old, it overcomes you and overwhelms you and all you can do is let it swallow you whole.

random. but do you expect anything less?

1. a baby is born with 300 bones, but an adult only has 206. if someone wants to explain that to me i'd appreciate it.
2. the truman show. sometimes i think i might be truman. you'd tell me if i was truman, right?
3. ugh. i hate when my hands swell. and they get all tingly from celiac crap.
4. big&rich. hinder. shania twain. celine dion. creed. nickleback. ugh. ugh. ugh. ugh. ugh. ugh.
5. favorite number.
6. sommmmeeeebody trade intestines with me. seriously. anybody.
7. i still believe i'll be a cosby kid or a soul train dancer when i grow up. oh and i'll for sure be married to joe jonas.
8. lawd, i love a list.
9. i got back from chicago 5 days ago. my left calf muscle is still sore.
10. speaking of obession, i'm infatuated with anatomical hearts. perhaps it's just the word anatomical.
11. wait, you'd let me know if i really was truman, right?
12. oh i suppose you need to know why my left calf muscle hurts. i got lost for 3 hours. and what i mean by lost is, i walked for 3 hours. in the cold chicago rain. my toes were bleeding. and i was attacked by a vicious wolf/dog and he ate my hand off. okay, one of these statements is false. and according to terry, all of these statements are false.
13. my ocd/anxiety is just not going to let me post a number 13.
14. why do all my friends call/text/bbm me to diagnose them? and why do i always know the answer? i think i'm a hypocondriac.
15. my therapist says it's good for me to write these lists because they help me worry less and they tone down my OCD rituals. however, i'm going to make #15 long just because 15 is a nice well rounded number to end on. so much for toning down my rituals huh?

heartsong.

yesterday he looked at me
with a tear in his eye and said i'll always tell you you're my friend.
i hope i don't have to lie.
cause it's clear you love another man.
i said... "you're damn right"
and he said

he said it's crazy
how love stays with me.
you know it hurts me
cause I don't wanna fight this war.
it's amazing to see me reading through this scene
of love and fear and apologies.

he said it's crazy
how love stays with me.
you know it hurts me
that i didn't figure it out before.
and now it's too late for a soliloquy
it's way too late for dignity
it's time for apologies.
[grace potter and the nocturnals. apologies]

i'm jumping..

"there was excitement and the air was filled with the vibration of really joyous life that knows nothing of disappointment and white sorrows and all that." -kerouac

[...so that i can live. there comes a point when you realize that you are no longer sure about anything anymore, but it's okay, because that is where you needed to be all along. the uncertainty of where everything stands is seemingly chaos, but after taking a closer look, there is a beautiful, sentient order to the mystification of love and passion. and i finally feel... okay. with not knowing. with not needing that affirmation.]

one small move, one big change.

i’m really amazed by human language sometimes.

and tone.

one change of pitch,

can make a word take on a whole new meaning.

one small move of a word,

one small emphasis of one word over another,

and everything changes.

and sometimes that’s all it takes to change a relationship.

or to start one.

or end one.

our words are our past.

i want to collect all my words, written and unwritten, spoken or unspoken, finished and unfinished, words held captive in drafts being erased and jotted back down in different ways over and over again and slip them into your mouth, make you have a taste of what you never knew, what i need you to know. i want to take every consonant and vowel of the alphabet yet to be strung together and turned into something that makes sense to you from me and make you listen to the sound of each syllable you need to hear in order to feel what i feel. i want to take all these dear-you’s and dear-me’s and dear-us’s of the future and past and pack them away in one huge envelope filled with all the hugs and sealed with all the kisses we missed out on having when you decided to walk away and have you read the thump-thumps of my heartbeat. i want to have my language be your language and to understand what i mean when i say all this.. or do i have to spell it out for you? my words are no longer meant for you.

looking into my future..

..and i see my child.

you&me[period]

together it feels like we are constantly living as question marks.
with the curve of my back fitting perfectly inside the curve of your front. always questioning what this is, where we are, what have we done, how to fix this, can it be fixed, where did we mix what we shouldn't have mixed in this mess that now can't be undone? i wonder if we'll ever find the answers we need to feel complete with ourselves and with each other. all i want is for us to be happy. ridiculously happy little exclamation points facing one another. while exclaiming what could only be a love [possibly] meant to be. but i don't know if that will ever happen.
so whatever we can resolve, i'm hoping it will involve a definite ending with a period.
after you&me.

sometimes has become a home.

because sometimes i am ambitious.

sometimes i am a dreamer.

sometimes i am motivated.

sometimes i give up.

sometimes my heart is cold.

and sometimes i am lonely.

sometimes i feel defeated.

sometimes i can take on the world.

but sometimes is safe.
sometimes doesn't require decision.

sometimes has no deadline.

sometimes allows for changed minds.

sometimes has become my home.

hey it's okay..

..to shop in the men's section.
..to have miley cyrus and the jonas brothers on the same playlist as the xx and grizzly bear.
..to wear the same pants 2 days in a row.. or 3.
..to disappear for a while.
..to have a brick phone and be behind on technology.
..to count the stairs at school as exercise.
..to want a mushaboom family.
..to eat ice cream out of the container.

love map.

lent goes as follows:
1. give up something. i.e. fried food, sweets, coke, blah blah blah.
2. make it 1 week.
3. feel guilty.

well.. a girl in my young adults bible study at st. andrews found this calendar and we all decided to follow it instead of giving something up. it completes my heart.
there are a couple of dates i'm anxious about. some make my stomach do flips.
but i'll do it.
i'll make it.
just say a little prayer.

and let me know if you want to be my partner in this and we can keep each other on track.

for dust you are, and to dust you will return.

confession.
i was more than angry this morning.
racing to the 7am service at st andrews.
i focused on my surroundings.
i told myself this was going to be the only enjoy life moment of my day.
i am marked by a cross made of ashes on my forehead.

i snap back to reality. i'm 10 minutes late for class.
i need coffee. and truck stops have the best coffee. black.
as i fumble for money to pay i feel a tap on my shoulder.
it's a dan conner look alike; trucking is his occupation.
conversation:

Man- yes mam uh what is that on your forehead? a tattoo?

Me- oh no, it's ash. From the Ash Wednesday service.

Man- why you have ashes?

result:
amazing, enlightening, emotional conversation on beliefs i hold so tight to.
there we stood. outside the petro. talking about what god means to me.
i saw that all you need sometimes is a reality check.
a situation that makes you put on your breaks.
and be a little thankful.
we never exchanged names.
but i know he fulfilled my heart.

go.

listen.

i may be obsessive. and i may be paranoid.
i may worry. and i may over analyze.
and i may be contradictory and indecisive.
i may never be right. and i might always be wrong.
i may be too honest. i might always embellish.
but at least you know who i am.
at least i know who i am.
i don't tell you i want to change when i have no intention of trying.
i know i don't want to change.
as of now, this is who i am.
i don't think i'm someone i'm not.
i don't pat myself on the back.
i don't settle.
i no longer play pretend friend. you're no longer in my life for a reason.
i no longer carry on superficial conversation.
i won't agree with you because it's appropriate.
i will no longer be part of a shallow life.
or believe shallow things because that's how i was raised.
or because that's what you believe.
i will not silence myself to please you.
don't silence me to please yourself.
i will always agree to disagree and you were always in my life for a reason.
but i've grown.
my heart has grown.
my morals, beliefs, values and everything synonymous with these have grown.
i now have a mind of my own.
filled with conclusions i have drawn on my own.

a man is only as good as his word.
and if you live your life by saying one thing and doing the opposite,
then count me out.
if you believe naive things because that's what you were taught,
then count me out.

and stop rolling your eyes when we talk about issues that mean something to me.
stop calling me weird.
stop judging me.
maybe if you opened your heart
you'll find my values somewhat comprehensible.