we're all a bit jaded

When did we all become so jaded?

Think back, far back... to a time when each day was full of emotional purity, clear thoughts, renewed hope, and limitless ambition. The world was literally at your fingertips and nothing and no one could stand in your way. Until, of course it or they did. I wonder, how is it that we can go from such innocent hope to such pessimistic views seemingly in the blink of an eye? We are eternally searching for something to fill this void we've created within ourselves. Something, someone. Is it that our optimism really is dead, or that we keep setting higher and higher standards each time we fail to meet our original? If that is the case, then we are creating this sort of catch-22 self fulfilling prophecy. Creating expectations for life, for love, we know that no one will ever reach - and then we are disappointed when they don't. With each failed project, wish, relationship we seem to set the bar for the next one even higher; furthering our perpetual sorrow and downheartedness. Which begs to question: Can a broken heart ever truly mend?

Do the scars from your past ever really fade away? We like to pretend that they do, we like to put on that face and say that we judge each day of it's own accord. But who are we kidding? Your parental doubts led to you seeking that perfect mate - and we they fell short we seek for something better - better. Why don't we simply search for something different? For something that fits our brokenness, our pessimism, our jaded perspectives?

I still feel like I was just broken up with, like my hearts on the mend - from time to time. My ex and I broke up over a year ago. Perhaps the adage from Charlotte from Sex in the City is true... we don't heal until half the total time in the relationship. Maybe this is true. Somehow I feel that a truer assumption is that we simply never heal. We go through the motions of grief, we get over the worst of it, but the shadows never really are shaken from our frame.

The more we go through life, the more shadows we collect. This isn't to say we cannot find happiness within our covered and jaded frames, that a broken heart cannot love immensely. It's just that the shadows of past hurts and failures cling to the happiness and shroud the love. Perhaps we'll reach this wise old age and find a way to dispel them all. Likelier? We go insane. Senility, Alzheimer's, what is it really than our brain finally succumbing to so much past baggage? Finally throwing in the towel.

Here's the real question. If, in our current condition, we are all so jaded; if a broken heart can never fully heal... Can we break the cycle? Is there some way to reach within ourselves and fix the broken and chipped pieces? I still have faith that there may be. Perhaps, one day, I'll be proven right. Or, I'll fail in someway that erases that faith from within. I suppose, as they say, only time will tell.

what I wish....

I wish I could write a blog about the world in all it's glory and complete sanity. I'd love to write about the excess of money that all my friends and I have. How we're all doing fantastic and walking around in custom made shoes with an extra spring or two in our step. I want to write about the wonderful job market, and how we're all completely over-compensated and no inflation's in sight. Love is all we'll ever need, and more than enough for you and for me. There's fresh cut flowers every morning, and deliciously brewed tea flowing into porcelain cups. The air is crisp, cool, and refreshing, and is that lavender I smell?

I'd love to write all these things, but I cannot.

I'm drifting away from humanity. From myself. I wish all these things, but none will come to be. I spend too much time wishing, for there is nothing else I can do it seems. I can wish or I can worry. Perhaps I spend too much time doing both.

The daily monotony is a comfort. Rise, work, eat, sleep. The days blend together, cream blending into coffee. Slowly, silky tendrils work there way together.

I know that I am lame. I try so hard to be something that I am not I suppose. I try to be clever, to be tall, to stand straight and narrow against the world. Can you see through me? Is there anything to see? I realize now, that I have very few qualities I admire. I am hardly artistic anymore. I used to be able to create, to pull words out of the air and weave them into paper...or screen as the case may be. Now... ... now I just type idly, and hope that someone, somewhere, sometime will read and that they will understand. That they will say "Yes, there is someone who knows."

Knows what? Well... I surmise that whoever this person is, wherever and whenever they are...they'll have that answer for you. As for now... I feel I know very little.

The autumn air... the rain on the windshield... it all feels too familiar. Everywhere I go, everything I do, every drive I make...it all feels like deja vu. I fall into this old mode of thinking, like it's all the same. This is all there ever was. Except...it's not the same.

I think John and I were made for Summer. I'm not really sure why, exactly, I just think that's what we were made for. Spring too, I suppose. It feels like with the weakening sunlight that we have a battle up ahead. Something to overcome. Some huge obstacle that we break through, or lie broken in the wake of.

We're losing touch, connectivity with one another. Perhaps it's just that the "honeymoon phase" is over. I still feel for him as I did...but... I just don't know. There used to be so much passion, pleasure, fulfillment. Now there is this routine...this predictability. Nothing happens that I don't know is going to happen. No one shows me huge amounts of unexpected adoration or affection. I don't get surprise I love you headywhop, I get you spent 1,000 dollars on me in a week headywhop. I get the usual kisses and pets and signs of love, but I don't know. It might just be the fact that we used to not be able to keep our hands off of one another, once a day was the minimum. And now.... now I'm down to maybe 3 times a week at best. Where did the lovin' go?

I feel gross, overweight, ugly, moronic, idiotic, complacent, overlooked, useless, hopeless, stressed, and mildly deranged....

The end.

Brittany is bored...

...so you all get an update on my life as of late.

There's been tons of irregular sleeping/eating patterns happening, which isn't too terribly bad since there's no work or anything going on. I do feel super lame when I wake up at 4pm though. Tomorrow - or rather later today I'll need to be up because I'm going to hang out with the lovely Azurell. God, I'm such a twitter addict, I almost wrote @azurell instead. My bad.

So the Clint issue kind of hit full force the past couple days. I was supposed to go to lunch with him, but John mentioned that it would make him uncomfortable and lead to the end of the relationship. So, I told Clint that I wouldn't be able to hang out at that time, of for anytime soon. Clint was super hurt by this and so we had some text and e-mail conversations about it. He said a lot of things that I had been waiting to hear. How he was sorry, that he messed up and hopes to have me in his life in at least some way. He was upset that I chose John over him, which...come on, how could you not?

Eventually he called me and we ended up talking for almost two hours. We talked about the issues that we had. I said my peace about everything. I cried, he cried. Closure. I feel horrible that I have to cut him out of my life, but I guess there is still the internet and telephone and such. He will always be a part of my life, he was too integral to disappear forever.

I understand how John feels in a way. True, I wanted him and Emily to stay friends but merely cut out the inappropriateness -- but he ended up having to end the relationship to do so... or she did. I'm not really sure. He did remove her from the social networking sites and she doesn't have his new phone number... However, I did find out that he randomly remote desktops into her PC. Can you say not okay? So very not okay. That's creepy to the extreme for one, for two -- he needs to get over her. He hasn't yet, and that's okay...but he needs to.

I'm not sure where John stands now with the Clint situation. He realized that I feel bad about the situation, I think he assumed that I wouldn't care. He said that he was stepping out of the situation and for me to do what I thought best. Which is... I have no idea. I don't want there to be any resentment between us, and I don't want there to be double standards either.

---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*

Unemployment has got to be the worst thing. I haven't not had a job since I was 15, and now there's just this huge emptiness. This lack of contributing to anything more than myself, it's just, I don't like it. That and money is kind of important to functioning. Food stamps and UI help, but they definitely do not make up for full time employment. I've had a couple interviews and such, but rejection after rejection. It's kind of lame. I know that I could do the job, and better than the majority of people out there. Whatever.

---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*

I feel like a child who got dropped into this body. I have these grownup concerns, feelings and desires but no way of dealing with them accordingly. Everything is terrifying and I feel like any day I'm going to wake up to find the hollow shells of all this blown away. John mentioned something about putting on a face, and I think the truth is - every single one of us feel like we put on a face for other people. I don't know why - but we do. Whether or not there is one there or not, well, that's up to the individual. I think in a lot of cases it's just the divide between who you are and who you wish you were that causes that feeling. You don't want to admit who you really are. Either that, or I'm just rambling. I feel the same way, like the world can't see the true me. I tried to start this blog to remove the outer layers, I'm trying to be real and honest. I am concerned that John will either be who I know him to be, but change for some reason - or that he really is hiding behind something. There are a lot of things that I don't agree with him on a lot of things, and his past before me seems like mistake after mistake - poor judgement calls lined up in a row. I don't know...not everything, but... a lot. Anyway...

That should be enough reading for anyone. If it doesn't make sense - tough. I was listening to music and that takes my brain away from my fingers so they kind of do what they want.

<3

internalized problems

I kind of explained my feeling, or lack there of to John who said that's how he felt – he knew he loved Emily, but didn't feel it and then he slept with someone else (no, not me...). I don't know if he's actually worried about that... it wouldn't make sense for him to be. Even if I were the type to cheat, we're together all the time as neither one of us have jobs.

I realized that as I try to be a confident and self reliant individual I am failing in these aspects. I have become reliant on the government to pay for everything I could hope to have. Food stamps and unemployment don't exactly scream independence. I've mailed off my college application and eagerly await a reply of acceptance, maybe then I can take out loans and get more money from the government to help me out. Le sigh. Eventually I'll be done with schooling and have a real career and be able to pay back to the world. However, I'm not so sure about the confidence issue. One, I haven't been able to find employment. I should be able to get an office job easily, I would imagine. It doesn't take much – and I have the experience needed. Or, rather, I thought that it would be easy, didn't take much, and that I had the necessary experience/skills. So I'm failing in the work realm. In the home realm, things aren't much better, but this is due mostly, I think, to lack of motivation. The apartment is messy and disorganized. I did make the room functional and relatively clean yesterday evening, which greatly helped my overall view of the possibility of perfection. I am worried about the quality of relationship that John and I have as well. I do not feel like I am providing him with all that he desires or needs out of a relationship. He will say that all he wants is me, that I am perfect for him in this time. Although, that quantifier that he puts on it does make me uneasy. “in this time.” I mean, well... I'm not perfect so therefore must not be perfect for him for all time, right? I am sure that he does love me, but... I don't know. A lot of things compound together to give me this feeling. I'm not sure exactly what those things are.. moments that just seem off key, his lack of enthusiasm for me in general and especially, uh, romantically. Then we have the ever persistent Emily issue which will never go away, because he still believes that he was right in his judgment and actions. His number is probably getting changed on his phone, and he did say that it would be okay because then she wouldn't be able to get a hold of him even if she did try. Not really sure how I was supposed to respond to that, but I was conflicted. He still will say he is right, then why not have her contact him?

Employment, home, relationship, and self are my confidence short falls of late. I myself feel... I don't know, if I had to sum it all up into one word I'd say gross. I'm emotionally dead and mentally drained which probably does not help the situation any. I look at every aspect physically and am repelled. I feel completely inadequate in every trait in regards to my physical appearance. I'm not sure if it is this appearance or my perception of such which has changed because there for a while I was feeling alright about myself. Now, however.... not so much. I have nothing but criticism for any of my physical attributes these days. It's not all the time I am conscious of this, but just...when I see myself? Look down at my legs and feet, and just everything. Ugh.

Well, that's about all I've got in me for the moment. Life's drama isn't really comparing to my internalized problems, which I'm sure are all for naught.

Things unsayable

How do you explain depression to someone? It's kind of like trying to explain the color blue to someone...so I pretty much don't try. It's hard though, at times. When someone asks you what you're thinking and the answer is nothing because your insides are dead. You get asked what's wrong, and the answer is -- in the way they meant the question, nothing. A chemical imbalance within the neurons of your brain. A misfiring missile. True, there are times when I feel it less than others, but it will always be there. Sure, I could go back on Prozac or some other drug system ... but to me, the benefit is not worth the risk. I'd rather be in touch with every fiber of my emotional frame. Besides, it is often depression which fuels great works for me. I am able to tap into the core essence of creative functionality. I had a problem while on antidepressants that I wasn't able to write. I was on like the lowest dose possible b/c the main purpose wasn't depression, and still it zapped me. Not worth it. In this world there are seldom things I truly can enjoy, or be proud of. My ramblings just so happen to one of those things, whatever they may appear to be to you. So I am restless, so I can't sleep except when exhausted. So I'm apathetic to life, and stare into the distance with a blank or somber look on my face. So I'm on a downward spiral emotionally, and probably will break soon. So what?

I need to write

I cannot sleep and therefore I must write, I suppose. It happens, on occasion, where all I can do is write. I know not why, or how or when it will happen. Just that, inevitably, I will have a need and who ever is in my wake will be bid to read what wondrous or mundane work I have created. Is it out of boredom alone? I don't think so, I think it is... out of necessity. I am what I am and all that I am is me. Perplex simplicities wrapped in what warmth and shelter I can take from this world. Sometimes it is much, and I am grateful. Other times, it is less than would be desired and I feel abandoned and alone. There is no switch of emotion. There is no only on or off. There are varying degrees of everything from anger to love. I love nearly everyone alive, I suppose. However, there are some I love only because they are alive and there is a soul and meaning behind their eyes; others I love because they have qualities and traits which I admire. There are those who have admirable qualities and a common ground with myself, and I love those as acquaintances and perhaps friends if enough of the right mixture is there. There are those which are simply a part of me, have been and will be and they are family, although no blood relation is necessary at all. There is love which is deep and coursing just like blood in my veins, and consuming and undeniable – like the love of family, but with a necessity and craving aspect. Within each of these categories there are varying levels. There is no on or off. You may never hear me tell you that I love you, but I do. You may beg with me and plead with me that you love me, and though I feel the same way you'll never hear me utter the words. I believe with all that I am, that you shouldn't tell someone you love them to hear a response. If you love someone and wish to let it be known, you shouldn't feel downhearted if they do not repeat the words to you. If you would feel this way – then let you never utter those words of feeling aloud. I also believe that “I love you” is said far too much. We've raped the meaning from it. It means the same as 'I like you' or, 'I think you're an awesome person.' I am just as guilty of this as the next. With all of this knowledge I hold to be nothing but the truth, it will continually befuddle and confuse me as why telling someone you love them is such an enormous deal. Why you would be willing to rid yourself of someone you love in what you claim is the deepest sense to tell someone you love as a friend – acquaintance these days – that you love them. To me, it means much more to simply be alive, to care as you will. I would not need you to tell me you love me to know that you do. Actions will always, always speak louder than words could ever hope to. It is what you do, how you treat someone that let's them know how you feel about them, not the words you speak – type – send. It is sad to me that we have come to rely on words when so very much of what we experience can not be understood with any language that I have ever encountered. I say this as someone who is more tied to words than most. I will always be a writer. Even when what I wrote was fairly pointless, silly, and without talent I considered myself as such. I feel that without writing I would surely go insane. Yet even I can admit that we place too much merit on what is said with letters smashed together in semblance of intelligent thought. As I sit here, in darkness of night and somber thoughts I wish that there was a way to download how I feel into a disk uploadable to your mind. Maybe then you would realize that by not responding you are not lying. You are choosing to love me like you say you do. I didn't start writing this to go there. I didn't even mean to, it just kind of happened as my consciousness spilled forth from my fingertips. I still feel like I am right, he is wrong, and there is nothing I can do. My dreams are consumed of him choosing her over and again. On our wedding day, random events, it doesn't matter. He always goes to her, even if he tries to come back to me later on, it doesn't do any good. He's made his choice. I guess that's it, isn't it? He did, and my subconscious doesn't want to let me forget it....

Thoughts of late.

We all, each of us, lack something. I'm not sure what it is for each person, but I can pretty much guarantee that it is there without a doubt. Me? I lack a lot of things. I lack optimism, I lack a true understanding of faith. I lack the ability to let myself be happy completely and without reservation. Each day rolls by and I want nothing more than to let it pass. Wash over me without so much as a second thought or whim to change it.

I strive to perfect these emotions, contain them in amber bottles with clearly defined black and white labels. Put them up on a shelf where they can be seen by all – perfect. Perfect love, perfect hate, the epitome of rage, jealousy, lust, frustration, joy. Each color coded sticker matching the key hanging from the rafter above. Yet, I fear there are no such things as perfect emotions. Wrapped up in all that we wish to be, do we miss who we really are? There's a quote by John Lennon which says, life is what happens while you're busy making other plans. Is this true of everything we see and do and taste and smell? A world in front of a world masked my our own smoke and mirror contraptions we put in place to keep us safe from really experiencing life. We have these moments, that feel real. I know that in these moments there is a sense of clarity, but they often are the most surreal.

Sitting in a living room, a guitar playing. The smell of weed and beer fills the air. The back door is open to the night. The clear air wafts in and strokes my skin. These are the moments I miss. This is when I felt alive. The three of us, talking into the wee hours of the morning about everything we had and wanted and dreamed and felt. I had to lie and say I had fallen asleep watching a movie. Truth is I was living, clear.

A trip to the beach with mostly all strangers. The sun, the sand. Two guitars, a fire. Someone taking pictures of everything and anything. Free style rap and cuddling with puppies in the sand. Feeling like you're in a movie – because life simply isn't that great. Things like this don't really happen.

A cold winter night. A dare of sorts. The rush of adrenaline as my heart fights to stay beating. The warm, stuffy air of a sauna. Confessions of an earnest heart. I will remember always this night where I did something I would never do. I stepped outside of myself and simply lived. I threw all caution, all concern, all thoughts of how to behave away.

These are the moments I remember, the ones that – regardless of where and who I am, where and who those around me are or were – I hold dear.

It is these moments and scarcely more that I felt I lacked nothing. There was no depression ever longing in my innermost core. There was no insecurity of how I look, what I seem like to other people. It was simply me, being me. I wish that every day felt this way. I wish that every breath was cherished, every moment ethereal. For now, in my mind I am lacking. I am lacking an education, beauty, intellect, wit, charm. I am lacking happiness, optimism, faith, security. I am not desired, I am not craved, but I am here nonetheless. I wish that I could escape. That if someone did desire and crave me – that they would show it. That I was enough for someone. For one person to think that I was the only thing they needed, their whole world. Conceited, perhaps, but I wish it was so. Any who have told me this have not been honest. They lie, they hold other things dearer in their hearts than I ever could be. Other girls, sports, casual sex, words, friends, their past. I will never be good enough. At times, I can accept this and go through life like it was roses and cherry blossoms and everything was great. A mask. There are times when I forget that I am sad, and I like those times. Yesterday, with the fireworks and the conversation with new and interesting people – I forgot. It was a time of almost clarity; just about that level of perfection.

I don't crave wild things most of the time. A walk in the newly risen sunshine, music, love. These are things which I want. There is something that speaks to my soul when I listen to someone on a guitar, playing with passion and care. Something that registers in my mind when I stare at the ocean or into a fire and think of nothing – or, of everything. Lost in pleasure of the senses with a slipping grasp on spacetime. Somethings we do bring us close to feeling this... but alcohol burns the memory, sex is fleeting, drugs leaden the body. I'm not sure if it is possible to be free all the time. I doubt it. I wish for more moments in the sun, more calm clarity with which to view the world.

I wish he loved me like he says he does.

my musings for the day

"...still can't find myself. I still stand alone in a world where those that are supposed to do the least are actually doing the most."

I hope that you can do all that you can to find yourself. You need not feel alone, for though I am assuming that I am the person you are referring to here - just accept that everything will work itself out. There are no tallies of what is owed, there is only love.

" I think that a sudden and severe impact that I have experienced more than once in my recent life may have actually caused damage. Either that or I need to stop thinking so much."

Yeah - you're crazy. It is all in your head I think. Either you're not liking what you're seeing/feeling or you're thinking too much about ... mother's with their head's blown off while holding young children. Or, you know you're broken in another way. Regardless the 'sudden and severe impact' didn't do it.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I know that we weren't best friends or anything of the sort before this whole thing got started, but we were friends. At least in my mind. One of the apprehensions that I had with all this was that fact - but I guess the feeling was not reciprocated. Well, all I can say is I hope that we become friends so you don't feel the need to shut me out should the other aspects dissolve. You're amazing and I don't want to not have you. I'm sure things would change if it were to end...still.. I don't know - again, not thinking of such things.

I feel bad in feeling happy that a fight ensued between the two of you causing you to 'eliminate.' I also felt ridiculously sad or something and wanted to make you call and apologize. Yeah, because I'm logical and such. I've told you you'll never meet anyone as conflicted and running on dual channels as me, haven't I?

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The night that I had my... I don't know - I won't call it a breakdown because not a single tear fell. The memory that kept pounding its way through wasn't as traumatic as some of the other ones that could have pierced my shell, but it was very like vivid or something. So it's my dad and he's got like scruffies or maybe a mustache and he's making me kiss him, but I don't want to so I'm pulling away so he grabs my like cheeks and pushes them together so like my mouths slightly open and then when he kisses me I can feel the border of his facial hair and taste the tobacco he has in his mouth. Bits of this tobacco make their way into my mouth... and so, yes - please never chew tobacco - or have a mustache...

I could have had a million other ones which made their way to primary tab, but that's the one that made it. The others were there - being processed and recognized, but for some reason... yeah. Thanks for ... being asleep I guess. If you weren't then you might have tried to pry or something which if I had told you then it may have become a break down.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yeah, I got my haircut again. Even though you seemed to have a preference of me not - you didn't seem to notice. However, you did notice the flower - so perhaps you were merely going with the if you can't say anything nice don't say anything at all deal. Who knows. I feel so much lighter! I love Diana and recommend her to any of you. She's at the Perfect Look in Tanasbourne. She's cute and has pretty tattoos.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I feel sometimes like I am someone else. Or that I've changed and I don't know it. You know when you look in the mirror to make sure you look fabulous? I've been looking in the mirror to make sure that I'm still me. What do you do when you look in the mirror and someone else is looking back? You're not thinking that you look bad necessarily, just that it's not you. . . I don't know.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The apartments I really want, shit it's too late to call them now! Anyway, so they say I make too much money, but they have me at like... 2,400 more than I could possibly make by their little program. I think I'm going to try and fight it. There is another apartment in Beaverton that's 900 ft. for 550/month but it's ... well, the buildings were built in 1969 so...yeah. Makes me said Village at Lovejoy Fountain is like ... *sigh* pretty. 2 blocks from Keller Auditorium, right around the corner from PSU campus, a jaunt to the waterfront. Yeah, fabulous much?

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As for my personal feelings right now, well... I feel off... like, something is imposing itself. What is this happening to me? Shocking things, tuning radio through speakers, having so many tabs open that I can't even see them all. How can I be contemplating dark matter and black holes, while flashing memories of my past, wondering what exactly the program you went through was about, and how cute kitty looks, and the weather patterns, and homelessness, and apartments, and money, and..yeah - all that at once. No wonder my brain feels like it's exploding.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
PS you still owe me a letter.

ramble ramble.

I have a sinking sensation in my chest. This is going to end. I have a very strong realization - I don't want it to. I really, really don't. I - despite everything - am in love. I know that it's soon - too soon to feel this way. To feel like I do for someone in all honesty I barely know. It may have been a giant jump off of the tallest mountain to feel this way - to do what I have been doing, but really, I don't care. He is the most amazing person I think I've ever met. I don't think that it makes much sense all of this. I can't figure it out, and that scares me.

I realized that after everything I will always love Clint. I don't want to, but I do. I am by no means in love with him. I realize every day that he wasn't good for me, that he couldn't be what I need in a man, couldn't give me what I seek in a relationship. He was a major part of my life, he helped make me who I am - and we did have a lot of amazing, wonderful times. Perhaps that is why it hurts so much to see him disheveled and to have him be such a ... prickish bastard. I don't even know if words can describe the crapiness he has shown to me over the past. Yet, I think it may be in part that my new boyfriend and I showed up at his apartment to take his things from him. Still... I want my Wii god damn it!

I feel like curling up and crying. I don't understand why. I don't understand this impression of ever coming doom that is consuming me. I am curious as how to define what love is as well. How do you define something that is unexplainable? Like how you know that God is there - how to describe the wind, or light.

I know that I want to be with him, I know that the way he smiles melts me. I know that he is intriguing, fantastic, chivalrous, considerate, passionate and unique. I know that everything he does seems brilliant and that the touch of his hand sends shivers down my spine. I know that I am becoming increasingly...protective I suppose you could say... over him - but that I will try not to let him see it. I want to make him happy, and know that he makes me happy. I want to be someone who makes him feel like humanity is worth fighting for - that there isn't reason to lose hope. I love the time we spend together - it is more often than not the highlight of my day. I feel undeserving of this. Love? As defined by some - yes, and it would be what I think as well.

I am afraid of the consequences of this. Of me putting my heart on the line only to get it smashed to smithereens later down the road. Of course he says he won't hurt me - as long as I want him he's mine. Well... I can only imagine he's whispered the same sweet nothings to people he's left broken before. However, I can say that - for the time being and foreseeable future - I do share the sentiment. Even so... it may be the stress of monies, and school, and life getting in the way. Maybe. Or, I am just in a state of hormonal imbalance - eh, who knows?

With so much falling apart - for every relationship ended I feel more despair. I can feel the pain of every broken heart sometimes. I want everyone to be happy. I want everyone to find their soul mate and live happily ever after in some mystical land. I want every child to have a warm, loving home and reach their full and utmost potential. I wish so much for the world, even though I know it will never come to be. These bubbles and fantasies should end when the world becomes real to you. I am slightly jaded in that I learned too much of the real world too quickly in my life. How is it, then, that I still have these fantasies of youth? The wish for a ... happy quiet life. For a decent job where I can affect the youth of the nation and help them become the best they can be, a loving man to hold me - a couple children in the yard. I don't know - dreams change and fluctuate, but one thing I long for is completeness. A chance to make a difference.

Okay, so I have no idea if any of this made sense. Just drank pint o' bum wine. In summation (or apparent summation) I feel sad, but it doesn't make sense. I love him but it shouldn't be by societal standards. Fuck society's standards. And... something or other. Kittens are cute. Halle Berry + Hugh Jackman = sexy lady + sexy man = sexy mcsexerson.

Teh end? Fuck if I know. Strong feeling that sobriety will equal deletions and edits. Hmm. Oh vell!

Discussions

"An individual and their character is not defined by what they see and their perception of the matter but rather, another's perception and reaction to our own tastes. Almost sadly, we do not bear the control to define ourselves in this world. We have to go about as we wish (with limitations) and allow the world to see who we are and make a point of reference as to where we stand in their mind's eye."

You see, our perception of reality very much so shapes who and what we are - not necessarily for other people, but definitely for ourselves; which is the most important thing really. Also, who we surround ourselves with will depend on what we consider relevant and admirable qualities - which will be defined based on our perception of such. Therefore, how others see you will be determined by the people you let see you which is determined by your perception. Furthermore, I disagree with your statement that we do not bear the control to define ourselves in this world. I think that we alone have that control and that it is up to us to inflict a high standing of ethos/pathos/logos in the minds of our cohort and peers to shape and bend their perception to our will. I suppose if you honestly had no care as to how the world perceived you, this would not be the case and you could float along as you suggested allowing the world to see who we are and make their own assumptions as to where we stand. Most people, however, at least moderately attempt to modify the way that they are held in the mind's eye of others and the world at large.

Which brings us to the innate human quality of deception and manipulation which are often in place. The facade we emulate so well to hide the inner truths that we are all shallow, greedy, vengeful, prideful, lustful, needy individuals. Which is not to say that we are not also tolerant, giving, peaceful, and humble - but there is definitely a duality in every heart which contains the negative. I will never cease to stop believing in the goodness of humanity - (which you find odd, I think?) If human beings were not good creatures, or did not have the overall capacity for good there would be absolutely no reason to remain in existence other than to achieve your own personal satisfaction. We'd be reduced to a pile of fornicating monkeys with guns and automobiles. I, for one, refuse to sink to that level of disintegration that I will admit exists. I cannot believe that I alone wish to better the world - not for myself, but for others. I refuse to believe that the majority of humanity is not in concurrence with me. I refuse to be a monkey fucking and flinging poo while I rape and pillage my way to the top of some corporate ladder only to realize that none of it matters. It doesn't matter how large your house is, what car you drive, how much money you have in the bank. It doesn't matter if you shop at Saks or Thrift shops. It matters that you have clean hands and a pure heart. It matters that you have the capacity for goodness, kindness and love. At the end of the day I want to be surrounded by those that I love and that love me - in addition to the basic needs of food, clothing, and shelter of course. It doesn't take much to make me happy - perhaps that means I am simple, perhaps. If it means that I am inferior to the rest of humanity - so be it.

But hey, it's all a matter of perception, right?

Discernment of Now

Ah, if only I could kiss and tell. Well, that was probably more information already than most of you would like to hear - so we'll leave it at that very open ended statement.

I have been a mindless drone to the world of Pixie Hollow for so long. I spent all day, ten hours, typing things and doing things and questing and such. That and reading LeastICouldDo.com obsessively. I'm only in 2006 so, it's gonna be a while until I'm caught up - which it's updated daily so... yeah, it's going to be a while.

I am thrilled to have my two angels Kitty and Merrick with me once more. Their antics and personalities are so dissonant and functional and amusing.

I am at a place in my life that I shouldn't be at society wise for like five months, but for the moment at least - I don't mind. No, it's not that I don't mind - it's that I am (dare I say?) happy. There, I said it. Happy. Perhaps that fleeting happiness you get from a sunny day - perhaps the happiness you get from something more real. I haven't fully determined the level of that happiness yet - or figured out if it will turn into joy.

Speaking of which, there was a sermon a pastor gave many years ago upon the differences between happiness and joy - saying the Joy can only come from God whereas happiness is something which is conditional to your surroundings. This is true I think, to an extent. I do believe that joy is something which is very much so internalized as a pure state of mind and can persist through depressing moments. I don't know if it has to come from God or not - although his presence is something which definitely makes the world seem a little less ... bleak and hopeless? Less like a hunk of rock hurtling through space and time at thousands of miles an hour and more like a planet with purpose. Do we have a purpose? I've been told our purpose is to live and die. That my purpose is make this putrid planet even worse. That my purpose is to love. That my purpose is to serve my God and show him to the world. I don't know what our purpose is here - no one does.

I know that what my father told me was not true. I do deserve to be loved. Better yet, I am - I was, I will be. By friends, by lovers, by God eternally, maybe by you. In...some sappy movie I can't remember which and am too lazy to Google 'the greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.' I think that love is multifaceted, multidimensional, and forever. If I love you today, I'll love you tomorrow, I'll love you in a month, a year, a decade. I will never stop. Whether I love you now as a friend, a family member, a lover - and later only as a memory it will still be love.

I like to claim my independence, yet I am dependent upon all of you. For my sanity, for my happiness, for my livelihood. I like to think I am in control, but my heart tends to drag me as it wishes. Or my bodily desires, whichever the case may be.

It's going to be in the seventies Sun/Mon and sunny. I long to wander the streets. Join me?
-------------------------------------------------------------
The flame dances on the wall as the shadows of my soul play tricks. The sweet smell fills this space as my heart begins to beat. Breathing in and out manually. Wonder what you're thinking. Wonder how many tabs are open in the browser of your mind. Wander down my own paths built around synapses of my mind. Firing electrical charges. Like those between your fingers and my skin. Spin, twirl, fall. Fall into....we're finding out a day at a time.

Ramblings

He walks in front of me, this boy I do not know. His cigarette smoke fills my lungs with a sickly sweet feeling. I cross the pavement into the lot of metal beasts that kill the Earth one revolution at a time. I cross the threshold of the building I've been entering every day for nearly a year and a half. It is empty here.
-------------------------------------------------------------
"I know it's often difficult for me to be able to discern the sensation of the love that I feel for you as a friend and that as a lover. I think I may have finally managed to coordinate some control over that recently and though I'm sometimes left wondering..." I'm not sure how I could interpret that any way other than how I did. If you can't discern the difference... if you still are left wondering... Le sigh.

Despite my better notions, I believe it when you tell me sweet words I long to hear. Despite my bitter heart, I have some hope. Despite my broken faith I am jumping off these cliffs. You said something last night, trying to analyze my feelings - notice how I did not disagree, but I did not admit it either. Give me time to know, give me time to figure out if I can let my heart jump off the same cliffs my behaviors have. Give my behaviors time to match the longing that I feel. Time. Patience is something which you pretend to have, but secretly lack I think. I'm not sure, you have been more patient than I expected someone of your gender disposition to be. This leaves me puzzled and confused. You are patient, but you seem to get massive enjoyment from pushing the boundaries I have set for myself. Not that I have too many objections.
-------------------------------------------------------------
I am living in your space, I am breathing in this, your city daily. I man with a giant pink flower in his hand comments on the loveliness of the city. Yes, I agree, this is a fine city indeed. I wish you were here to enjoy it with me. To taste the night, to walk the street, to speak with strangers who carry flowers in upturned palms. I hope that in your new space you are happy, content for the moment. I navigate the city by the lighted dome of your building. Each turn, each exhale reminds me that you will not be just an elevator ride away.
-------------------------------------------------------------
School is somehow confusing me more than I ever thought possible. I read these online pages and have no idea what I am supposed to be doing. I will reread them later to try and pass so I can move on in this jungle of chaos in a relatively organized fashion. I do my best to stay on track, but faltering is so very easy to do. I know that I would have no qualms if the world stopped its madness and paused. I like this moment of life I am in - I don't want it to change. I love my job, my friends, the apartment, my plan "W," and yes, you as well.
-------------------------------------------------------------
I've been thinking a lot lately about the consequence of everyone's actions upon the world, along the notions of the butterfly effect. Did me taking the third MAX somehow alter the course of everyone's lives? Did the man with the flower find the person it was intended for, or was it merely for his own personal satisfaction? Did the boy in front of me, smoking his cigarette and trying to exude a devil may care attitude, change the fate of the world? How many lives have you touched? Continue to touch every day? Will touch in the future? Countless. I like to think that some impact is made between every single interaction you've ever had with anyone in your life. That you impact everyone you meet, see, touch, talk with, pass by. If you kiss someone, if you lock eyes with a stranger and smile, if you amuse a passerby, if you hold the elevator door, if you share a bit of wisdom with someone eavesdropping on your conversation - is their life changed? Will they become different, better, altered, due to their mere seconds in your presence? Will you?
-------------------------------------------------------------
Yes, this blog is long. No, it may not make sense. I've taken to plan W and I suppose that comes with lack of proper organizational tools. It comes with smoking, drinking, and breathing Nitrous Oxide all night as well. In addition, it is the moments on the futon watching silly cartoons and eating food off of an ironing board. It comes with feeling your heart beat next to mine, tasting your skin, and moments of pure exhilaration. It comes with cart food, and walking in the rain. Jumping into pools of freezing water, and feeling the salt of the ocean in San Diego. It comes with delicious breakfasts at Portland locales, and getting lost in the city. There's also an awesome little apartment in a great spot in town, and aluminum foil squirrels. There's driving for more hours than I'd like to recall, and getting amazing pizza at a local joint while watching you play DDR. Losing track of days, moments, reality, and time. There's so much from living I never thought would happen, I'd never thought I'd be where I am, with who I'm with. You say you need a plan, order, sequential sequences labeled and defined - look what we've done without them.

Erections and Vomiting

Aah California. My beauty, my sweet, my paradise I long to remain in. Gorgeous and warm and salty and the best Mexican food ever - outside of Mexico that is. Let's start at the beginning, and when I get to the end - I'll stop.

I woke from my nap still very much tired, but that didn't matter. I drove to Fred Meyer to get my ness, and then to a MAX stop to pick up John and Az and go to Mat's. After idly discussing plans for moving we began to take part in extracurricular activities whilst John handcontrollered DDR. John then drove us to meet up with Az's sister for some boxes.

Az's sister is... not very Az-like, but fun I think. She did have a couple drinks in her - but I liked her well enough.

Back to Az's apartment for some last minute packing, some peoples came over - or rather person, yeah.... that person. So Az disappeared for a while.

Next day we got the car loaded up with Morgan, Az, and a trunk full of things. Off we go to Stream for final checks and good-byes. On to Winco for provisions, and hit the 5.

A lot of miles (and an averted crisis of me sleeping at the wheel) later, and some sweet pictures from Az - we arrive in NoHo at Colby's kick butt apartment. We nap, those long ass drives are tiring... upon awaking, we headed to In N Out. Nom nom nom. It was so sunny and amazing and fantastic.

We had planned on going to San Diego to fall in love with it all over again, and kidnapped Colby and Az for the ride. We were going to Sunset Cliffs, but barely missed it. So we check into the hotel room - with bunk beds!



Some Red Lobster nom Coconut Shrimp Candy... okay, it's not really candy - but it might as well be. Then we head back and Colby and John go on a run to the liquor store / heart to heart / apparently there was some giggity in nom-orifices...

We drink.
We turn in.
We giggle.
We sleep.

John wakes up to Az sleeping on the floor... what? Oh, apparently there was vomit dripping down the wall. Nice, that's classy. Haha. So we all get ready and pack up and head out. We go to a mall and wander (I got amazing board shorts and pink high-heels!) and eat (Nom Lamb curry-ness). Then we head to the boardwalk for some beach fun. God I love Cali! The beach is gorgeous the water warm - and it's March! We spend some time wading and enjoying the sun and surf and cute boys... then we head to the cliffs.



Some minor climbing and picturing and oogling later - we need some nom. So, we go and get amazing Mexican food from a little - like, permanent cart thing. So good. Sunset is over, we head back to NoHo (detour for most amazing Fry's with aquariums and shit) and take a nap while our clothes are becoming clean. Then it's back on the road again after saying goodbye to one of the few people in this world I've felt ... linked to? Something like that. I love her so much!



John drives for all of it and we talk about... well, literally everything. It was... I don't know if good is the right word or not because there still are unanswered questions which I will never ask - maybe I'll figure things out, maybe not. It was good I think though, overall. At least gave him some more insight into my point of view, something. Marco's Pizza is freaking amazing!

Once homeward we stopped at my grandma's to get some things before heading to "my" apartment. It will always be Az's in my mind.

This past week has taught me a lot. About plan "W." About living life as you want to, and not as society tells you to. Being able to leave on a whim, and feel deeply, and speak frankly (or as frankly as I can.) That just because society says something shouldn't happen, doesn't mean it won't. Just because I'm terrified doesn't mean that life will pause for me. Just because I'm shy, doesn't mean I'm not a puma.

I have values, beliefs, attitudes, and behaviors - all of which often contradict each other. I love the sun, the sand, the stars. I love the way your eyes crinkle when you smile. I love your artisticness and miss your soul being in the same state as mine. With the two of you I somehow feel completely complete, invincible, and totally okay with myself. I am strange, I am irrational. I don't make sense, and most of the time I don't care. I am afraid of everything - and I mean that. I need to be in control, yet I love spinning out of it. I need to plan, yet have been plan W'ing it for a while now.

I do not want to go back to reality. This work thing right now feels like I am acting. I wish that everything monotonous could be done with (like school - blarg!) and I could get on living as I wish. I am happy teachers get spring/summer/winter breaks. I want to travel the world. I want to float in the clouds. I want to fly. I want to read your mind.

I'll leave you saying that I am content with my life, as much as I am amazed, dazed, confused, and bemused with it. I don't know what I'm doing tomorrow, let alone tonight. I don't know where I'll be in two weeks - or in 10, or in 52. All I know is that I wish I could have paused the time continuum - for just... one moment.

Taking a small break

"We watch the season / Pull up its own stakes / And catch the last weekend / Of the last week / Before the gold and the glimmer have been replaced / Another sun soaked season fades away / You have stolen my heart"

I love that song. It's so beautiful and sweet to my ears, it reminds me of where I am at and where I have been. Where am I? For the first time in nearly a week I am in my own bed. This bed is so amazing, I can't wait until it is in another location more suitable for me to be in.

I have no idea when I will have the time to move into Az's apartment. Time is fleeting from my Spring Break heart. I have been moving non-stop since Thursday and Chop-chop. Brittany came, and "boy", and Wicked and tattoos and piercings, and parks, and loss of employment....

Not even in that order, and not all for me. It doesn't matter anyway, because it'd just be a ramble - well, more of a ramble if I tried to explain it all.

I will be on my way to North Hollywood in 24hrs. Azurell, my love, has been affected by another's, I don't even know - cuntness? With depleting time and monies, we will take her to the sunny land where she can be taken care of and get her feet in the corporation's giant cosmos. I can only hope it will be fun, and sweet, and amazing. 

I am spiraling, but I don't know yet if it's out of control. I'm sure that I will find out eventually. I am concerned that I have class in less than a week again, and have yet to get text books or parking permits and the like. I think that it will all be okay. Due to the numerous decisions I have been faced with - I have fully embraced plan "W."

With the powers of God, an adorable octopus, an amazing radioactive panda bear, and me - of course (Your friendly neighborhood --- I've been a jelly-fish and a llama so, I don't know) - we should be okay.

I so need a small nap I think, to keep my sanity. I will take a nap, then finish laundry and such. I already have one batch done and the inside of my car clean. W00t! 

It's only a date if it goes well, says Jack.

It's 3:22 pm on a lovely Tuesday afternoon. I am sitting on Az's computer while a boy gets ready in the bathroom. I have this dreadful sensation that as soon as I turn the key in Az's lock that this reverie we're in will be shattered forever. I've been thinking a lot of irrational things lately though, I suppose. And so I will sit here and type and get kissed and such. Yup, I would say that it counts as a date...

Now it's 1:17 am, and time to reflect and to spill all the...well, most of the juicy details. This will be a detailed account of the past two days, so if you'd like a synapsis, know that I had an amazing time with an amazing boy and that I am a happy Treasure Troll and sometimes puma.

Midterm for Biology: 1:00pm on Monday. I was so the first one done at 45min. later (75 multiple choice Qs and 2 Essay.) Oh well, I've always been a quick test taker. I hope I did okay...

Jack called and wanted to know what I was up to. I told him and he convinced me that we'd real quickly do some things and I could get on to my plans with boy. He also said he wanted to change my headlight. So, we did that and went to PCC to get him signed up for classes. The advisor did her math wrong on my graduation sheet. Oh well, I can count, and so I just need to send in the petition for graduation and I'll be good to go! So excited to be making progress. The advising session took quite a bit of time and accomplished nothing - very important I'm sure. So then I realized I need Viso. The hunt was on. Cheveron and Trader Joes were a bust - except for the divine samples and chocolate covered expresso beans from Trader Joe's. Whole Foods came through for me though, with more delicious samples.

Back to Jack's - call boy, boy had to save a life. Wow, really? I wouldn't have known what to do. You amaze me every day, boy. Boy gets on train and comes to join me at Jack's. Gosh, how do I make this not awkward? Oh, just act however I want to... okay.

Get on train. Ride around to find some food. Get lost looking for Kell's. Hear a fight or two near Portland Rescue Mission. Reboard train. Ride to Llyod Center. Boy decides to not believe my own admission at my clumsiness....and I strap some ice skates to my premature baby ankles. He schools me epically. I fall. Then we decide to go watch Watchmen. We get stuck behind this Asian lady who asks what time every movie is, what they're about, etc. Oh well, we got into the theatre on time. Watchmen was amazing. The picture was clear, crisp, and refreshing. The colors were bright and dark compliments and the movie was very well put together. The plot was relevant, philosophical, and had enough funny moments to avoid being dull. Bravo.

Out of the theatre and the mall is completely shut down. Eerie. In a need to gtfo (where the need came from I'm not sure....) we hop into a 'authorized personel only' hall. No alarms, no worries. Although I did have the urge to be a puma in some of those dark halls.

We get outside. The world is quiet, peaceful. Few lone wanders like ourselves. I'm sure in the suburbs the sky was beautifully littered with stars. I'm sure it is freezing, but I can't really feel it. Apparently, it is not Saturday. It is ours, but the world does not run on our timetable. The max cannot get me home - and cuddling with an ex doesn't seem like an amazing idea. Az! Glorious, wonderful Az. I remember her mentioning the Llyod Center is close to her home - it is late, but I call her. She answers and we walk to her abode. The walk there is full of lots of puma thoughts, along with accompaning wonderings as to where this is coming from... There is a tea bag in a puddle and the boy notices. The world is having a cup of tea, he says. Surprise me again.

Outside her door. The buzz in is not working... she will come collect us as the lady with the dog ignores us. Showers of small pecks. How I'd love a kiss. I try. I fail. Wait, what? He starts to explain as Az appears. He explains. This is too much for me to take in. I realize how awful that must make me - my feeling to run away. My initial response to stay as far away as possible combats with my desire to be with him. I realize that there are no strings attached and if it really bugs me I can always leave. No one has clipped my wings. I decide to stay. I decide to follow life where it takes me. He relates that while he is not totally against the idea, he doesn't know how to really. Oh joy, someone to mold. I think this shall be fun, if he allows me to - of course.

He makes up for the lack of true kissing. We stay up til morning chatting and eventually drift off. Az's futon is amazing - but not nearly as much as its owner. I realize how lucky I am to have these two people in my life. In the same room, at the same time. I feel.... a happiness or completeness or something else equally amazing.

In the morning we play the lazy kissing, enjoying each other game. He keeps trying to convince me that it makes more sense to jump in together. I decline, and spend my time trying to gather my thoughts. I don't really succeed. After much bending, and ... not quite breaking but definitely spraining or fracturing, we head out into the world again. I am slightly downtrodden over my lack of defense. I do have to note that... well, wow. His idiosyncrasis were made up for at least for that day. I think in the longer run we'll get past it, if not I probably won't be able to stay - not sure what that makes me as a person, probably awful. But...there are things which are very important to me and this is one of them.

We finally get the dinner we neglected the night before. It is 3:00 pm or so the day after our 'date.' We then play some air hockey, where I am schooled, followed by more looking retarded doing some fake ddr and then more failing whilest racing. Well, I didn't fail too bad except when I played the child...

Pamts. I need new ones. John decided to write a sweetery hangman style on the ones I am wearing. He takes me into Express. I so wouldn't have let him buy me anything there - seriously. AEO is more than fine. Now's probably a good time to note that it seems money is a big deal to him. The aquisition, and the showing that you have it. To me, I couldn't care less if we split everything down the middle, or had gone to Marshalls or Ross like I suggested. I know that as a boy you're supposed to show your...prowess or something. It's just not something I understand completely. Perhaps it is because that Clint got the first date and everything else was either split or purchased by me until the like... 3rd year when we had a joint account and so it didn't really matter. I'm not used to having my coat held, my doors opened, my bags carried. I will try to resist this act of chivalry for no other reason besides unfamiliarity.

While trying on pants I realize I look like a local Portlander- and not in a good way like I mean that phrase sometimes... yikes! Aren't you supposed to be pretty and polished in these situations? I suppose that I failed epically and will atone myself the next time he sees me to erase the memory of frizzied unmakeuped afro woman. At least I'm two sizes smaller than I thought I was. It could have been the brand though.

It is getting late, and a friend's birthday party is approaching. I do not want to leave his side. I quickly realize the irrationality of this. We need to SLOW DOWN. For fucks sake, Stephanie - realize what's happening. Survey your surroundings and take a breather. Slower, slower, okay. Relax. Continue - chastely this time and for a while longer.

He rides the train with me. As I suppose a good wooer would. There are some odd people that partake in public transportation. I hardly notice, my eyes are either focused outside, on him, or on the cover of the book the lady accross the aisle is reading. It is a pretty, fluffy, orange kitty. Time to drive home. Kiss. Not a real kiss, mind you. God - is it really going to bug me that much? A peck would have been appropriate for that time - unless he wanted me to need to gain composure of myself. However, I think it's the fact that he won't do it which probably makes me want it more. That double edged sword. I broke him a little bit already, and I don't think he hated it. We'll see I suppose. I am sorry if it makes you uncomfortable that I am writing about you so openly - it's just how I do.

Home. I just change my clothes, answer a few questions and am out the door. Drinking and chilling with people. As I squee over Fallout 3 and talk about Elder Scrolls and the perils of WoW; as I talk computer specs and such, I realize that only like two people know what I'm talking about. You're a gamer girl? Asks his friend's mother who someone ended up being there. I..uh... not...really? I mean I... a guy behind me answers yes for me. I realize that I have been corrupted - and that I like it.

I head home and try to decompress the past 48 hours of my life. I fail.

How did I end up where I am at? It is a place I would never think to have found myself. How could I be calling Az at midnight needing a place to stay? Az, who has become such an amazing friend I don't know what I would do without her. I only hope that she magically gets a fantastic job here so she can stay and be happy. Otherwise, I'd rather see her in No.Ho. for her own benefit. Selfishly of course I hope she doesn't get it - but that's not fair to her, and she deserves all the world. When I first met her I would have bet money this wouldn't have happened. I cannot express in words how happy I am that it did. She is fun and supportive and ... amazing!

Then there's you. You have me so intrigued I need to come back for more. You who weakened me into a pile of goo beneath your touch. You who seem so sure at times and fragile at others. Where on earth did this come from? You pulled me in long ago with your writing, your interest in mine. You were silly, and always said things which made me want to know the whole story. You are reserved yet ridiculously outgoing. You make me think things, and feel things, I haven't in a long long time - if ever. This scares me, terrfies me straight through my entire being and into my core. Please, let us simmer. Smallest of small steps. If I fall too fast I might resent myself, or you. Something I never want to do.

Breathe in, breathe out. Publish post.

A comment

"I want to share with you words of wisdom. Not because I'm her friend, or because I truly dislike him, but because I hope that in some way, my experience can help someone in this situation. I have been in your place, as I have hers. I was the selfish one who broke the bonds of a friendship, or a love, that I had no business being in. I have also been the one waiting at home crying myself to sleep over someone I loved more than I had ever loved anyone else in my life. The sad truth of that matter is, both cases were over the same guy. You may feel guilty now, horrible, yet oddly exhilarated, but in the end you will end up as she is now. Again, this isn't meant to be malicious towards you or him, but walk into whatever may come of you and him with the knowledge that he has done this before, and he is likely to do it again."

The sad thing of the matter is that I have been in both places as well. While I can't say I have had no part, I feel I have done my best to remain neutral. And I now understand the world better for being in this position. Had I not, I wouldn't be able to see the torment that Clint went through. When he told me he was hurt and struggling and loved me I didn't believe him. Now I know that he did, and was trying to end it the only way he knew how - and perhaps the only way there is. Instead of harboring an incessant hatred for him, I know that he provided me with the platform upon which I can now build. He was the wind beneath my wings, but I can still fly. Perhaps it will end poorly. Perhaps it will never start. All I know is that I am along for the ride.

I wish that this ride could have been a little less full of drama, but I truly believe everything happens for a reason. If I had never seen the other side of the situation I still would be in denial perhaps, and never would have understood the duality that exists in all people. I have not broken the bonds of anything, that much I can say. The bonds were crumbling and I tried to save them, I didn't want to see a friend go through what I had. I don't know how that friendship shifted or changed, but who am I to judge - it did. I do feel guilty, not for the relationship ending, since I played no part in that; but for the pain that she feels knowing I exist. I feel horrible because I know how she feels, and wouldn't wish it on anyone. I feel horrible because I wanted their, and all, relationships to succeed. I feel horrible that I developed these feelings too soon, rather than after he had ended it. It really doesn't matter in the end - everything plays out like it is supposed to. Everything is a learning experience.

I know that it hurts right now. That you feel like your world has no purpose, that you you feel you aren't who you thought you were. I struggled, a lot at first, with thoughts of suicide. I truly believed I was with the one I was supposed to be with for all time and that he was the only thing worth living for. I wouldn't let go of the relationship. I kept trying to figure out the why of it all. I lay in bed and didn't sleep, I would just cry. I couldn't eat, not without vomiting any way. In hindsight, however, I can see the erroneous flaws our relationship had. Love is blind. I thought that he was my soul mate. I didn't see the double standards, the capturing and containing, the mind games. No, it wasn't all bad, and some of our relationship was quite good. However, in the end it comes down to basic underlying tenants of loyalty, compatibility, trust, honesty, kindness, and love. Love means so much, but, as much as I'd like to believe it is not everything. If you aren't compatible in a relationship with one another, no matter how long it lasts it will not work out. If you don't feel like you can be honest with someone, trust them no matter what or where, it simply won't work out. If you don't have 100% loyalty to the other person: mind, body, heart, and soul - and if they don't reciprocate those feelings - it won't work out. There was a time when I thought love would conquer all. While without love there cannot be much, it is not the end all. 

I cannot think anymore on this - as I do have much homework to accomplish. I need to graduate in June to stay with my plans....whatever they'll happen to be when June rolls around. I am still maintaining my current philosophy of floating along this river and going wherever it takes me. Right now it is taking me in a direction that is difficult, but is soon to become better I think. I can't explain it in words exactly how I am feeling - language fails yet again. As my friend Randy said, if language could accurately portray the thoughts and feelings I am having - no one would disagree with me. That could sound highly egotistical, but I don't at all mean it that way.

Even though I should be sleeping

I know, I know, I should be sleeping. I shouldn't have gone out with my Asians. I should have done my homework, I should have found a way to stay awake. Well - yes all these things are true. However, I decided to play the selfish card and go get books and pizza.

I find it strange how he can make me forget. Forget that I have a five page paper due tomorrow night and a Biology test on Monday. Forget that she's waiting at home with a broken heart. Forget that my heart had ever been shattered. Forget that I'm self conscious, that I'm broken, that my baggage weighs a million pounds. Some of the forgetting I like, lost in conversation or the accidental touch of his hand. Some of the forgetting I forget that I need to remember. Delicate-ness. I can't believe I am 'that girl' or as I so eloquently stated when I was in her place; 'that fucking whore.'

I try to trick myself into thinking that somehow, because it's me - and I don't mean any harm - that it's different. Yeah, no. Just because there hasn't been a breech of physicality necessarily doesn't mean that emotional transgressions (usually worse) haven't taken place. It doesn't make it any better that if I could, I'd sacrifice whatever there might be brewing to make her not have to feel like I know she does.

I do understand a lot better the actions that transpired during my own epic and awful breakup. I hate him slightly less, perhaps. To be honest, I haven't really thought of him lately. I mean in a - that reminds me of that time when I, kind of way - yes, but not like...before. I know now that maybe he did really care and sat there confused and perplexed and saddened not knowing the right things to say to let me know that he still loved me but we were done. I don't know... it makes me feel marginally better to think that.

I love being a treasure troll. The fact that this came out of the duct work. I believe the expression is, is strange, but cool. Like Az being one of my bestest friends - who woulda thunk it? Not us, that's for sure -  but it works, I think. Perhaps this will work to, perhaps not. I might just crumple under the drama and second guessing myself and feeling like a whorish home wrecker. At the moment, I am having fun. I am going to ride with the current of life and let things slide into whatever place they see fit.

Because I don't feel like I should be sleeping

I'll post another rambling. I don't really feel like a whore exactly.... but there is a definite measure of guilt. I had completely forgotten about your ness and everything - and the fact that you were not supposed to spend the night as you did. I am completely selfish, and I am sorry. I thought of myself and that I didn't feel like driving, and the fact that I really wanted to spend the night as we did. Again, completely selfish. I am so confused and perplexed and amused and aggravated by everything. This could be so much simpler - however, it isn't. Perhaps, if it was, there wouldn't be anything there anyway. I don't know, and I'm not sure where all this stemmed from - maybe if I did it would be easier to nip it before any more damage can be done to your relationship with her. I feel so responsible for everything. I'm not even sure if you're still in a relationship with her, and, last night I didn't even care. Perhaps it was the vodka loosening my strong moral code to sort of a... brain fondue. I really wanted nothing more than the snuggles and kisses and such, and I didn't think that she was sitting there alone with her world falling apart. God, it really is an interesting point of view from this side of the fence. I'm not sure how to proceed from this point, if I should proceed, or if I should just push you away. I really don't want to, but it's not all about me. Selfishness may help you along the path of your own greed, but it doesn't help other people's lives and better humanity as a whole - which is my goal. I am so sorry for everything, and no I can't blame any one or any substance for my behavior. I honestly haven't felt this happy in a year or more, which sheds a lot of light on several different things. I know, that for the most part, you are to thank for this.

Not to mention my "fucking awesome" friends with their amazingness, I love all of you so much! However, my main perplexment is over above person, and we're working through it internet blogging style - so my gush for you will have to be put on hold - sorry darlings.

I'm not sure if it is all the subtle things you do that make me feel like I am awesome. The fact that you've somehow come into my life with like a crazy chop chop and cut away all the bindings that I didn't even know existed. The aggravating way you share just enough of yourself to keep my coming back to try and fill in the blanks. The fact that you've done and seen so much, or so it would seem and I can steal knowledge from you by proxy.

Hm. I definitely am fucking crazy. We're up to three times now, right? I shouldn't even be having these thoughts/feelings at all, should I? Fuck. Guess it doesn't matter - we've got a month left, and then never to see each other again, right?

I believe I am a 13 year old girl

With the giddiness and the butterflies, I feel so incredibly ridiculous. There have been times in my life when what you just said would have made me uncomfortable. And, to be honest, it did a little. Only because I can't control how you feel, and I have this extreme desire to be in control. I, myself am spinning out of it.

I am glad to hear that I am not your social experiment. I could see you doing that to someone, perhaps, and it does make me happy that it is not me. You don't need to know my inner workings, I believe that is why they are 'inner' and not outer. That I can even matter at all, makes me feel giddy.

Frightened. Yes, you could use that word. I am terrified, scared, reluctant, apprehensive. Yes, excited too. Excited for... I'm not sure exactly, but I have a new found energy and desire to take on the world.

Who does this? Us apparently. I think it was in that moment actually that I realized how my 'inner workings' were indeed working. Which makes it almost easy to rationalize as an association. It's becoming increasingly hard to do so.

You couldn't make a fool out of yourself by being honest, and, for the moment at least I'm accepting it as honesty. I am one for honesty, even if it is spoken in metaphors and everywhere but in the bush. Yes, I think you decoded yourself very well, indeed. For now I cannot even focus on this so important 'work' which I'm supposed to be doing.

Ah yes, I had completely forgotten that I'm being a dirty whore by entertaining these notions in my mind. I shouldn't do that, forget. For in forgetting I become the thing in this world which I despise the most - and fear that hating myself is immanent if we continue on as we seem to be.

It is nice to hear your voice, to see your smile. To feel those butterflies and pitter-patter. However, I am all for nothing.

I know that I need to pause. I'm tumbling so fast, I need to catch my breath. To realize, to analyze, to compromise - perhaps. I need for you to be happy, to make sense of the world in which you are roaming - even if the sense you make is nonsense. I need to come to a place where I can stop. Stop analyzing, stop rejecting, stop reading so much in to every thing. Stop fidgeting, stop wondering.

Even now I turned my "squee! teehee" into something darker, for in my happiness at decodation, I had forgotten.

P.S. I would rather be looking for literature and eating pizza, though. What does that mean?

Rawr!

I decide, fuck it, I'm not going to bury anything at all. Just free fall into a crisp pool of openness. Yeah, that didn't work. 

I have this very strong feeling she isn't going anywhere, and you're just pulling me into some sort of social experiment because you want to see how I'll react. I'm not sure if  this is my brokeness (as Az claims it to be) or reality. I wish I had the balls to ask you, but unfortunately I was born without that certain anatomical set.

Driving home I realized that I have a lot of stigmas regarding intimate physical relationships, and that one will probably be hard for me to accomplish. On the same note, I realize my extreme need for a close emotional relationship with someone.

Is it possible to have someone you bond with emotionally on an intense and nearly spiritual level, who also understands your physical hangups? I really would like there to be. Eh - probably not. Perhaps I am more broken than I thought.

It's just this concept of sex I don't understand. To me, it is the bonding of two souls, the ultimate expression of love. To guys, and just about every body else these days- it's merely this physical thing of "blowing a load" or whatever the case may be. I guess that religion thing seeped deep down into something somewhere. Or, again, more broken than I thought.

You say you can't tell who these are about? Really? Am I honestly that good at masking myself in layers of sweet enigma-ey goo? Covering myself in a flaky crust of vagueness? I didn't think so, but apparently I am. Or your extreme desire of them not to be about you masks the fact they are.

Wait, did I just say that?