Monday, June 3, 2013
The past week has been too lovely for a little sunburn to ruin it, but I was feeling guilty that this here blog was not getting any love, so I give you this miserable face looking at you from the torture of my bedroom covered in sliced aloe limbs trying their hardest to sooth my burning skin.
My computer is still very much broken so all of the pictures that I have been saving to put on here are still sitting around taking up room on memory cards. I don't like it any more than you do, folks.
Sunday, May 26, 2013
Phew I'm glad I got that in to words. Only took a couple of years worth of accumulated anxiety.
I think I am going to go out and think about experiencing things on my lawn instead of in my room. Maybe it will be the push I need to motivate me towards human interaction.
Monday, May 20, 2013
I have an incredible penchant for trolling around the internet for hours without anything of substance once coming across my screen. I also have a knack for keeping myself awake for hours doing nothing important enough worth being sacrificed for sleep. I putter around my room, read magazine articles, collage things to my wall, check and re-check my Facebook, write angsty journal entries, text everyone in my contacts, take long showers, try on clothes, start blog posts and all other kinds of crappy activities which are not really necessary and should certainly not be taking precedence over rest. But alas, here I am again typing another paragraph into a post I started after I had exhausted my Facebook stalking capabilities and my friends had all fallen sleep mid-text. Either that or they were tired of my wired mind hypothesizing the myriad of possibilities and outcomes for events we are discussing and I'm agonizing over.
So I sit here, my elderly laptop propped on my lap, whirring away and burning bright red welts into my bare thighs as it overheats and the interior fans work overtime. I've done it all tonight: Ignored the homework and the various responsibilities that are constantly bobbing in the peripheries of my mind, spent hours doing mindless web surfing, even put my computer to sleep and tried to read a book for school. As you can see I ended up right back here perhaps more disgruntled than ever. This time of beautiful blue skies and leafy green lushness is supposed to be the best time of high school, isn't it? I'm supposed to forget the sorrows of adolescence and just be happy in the freckled arms of my youth. Or something. Well, let me tell you friends, that has not happened yet. With less than a month left of high school, it is absolutely just as sucky as it has always been. I feel cheated of something that I had previously felt entitled to; like it was promised to me on the first day I walked through those heavy high school doors. Now as I crawl towards the finish line of my so called education, exhausted from the journey and depleted of even the cynicism that shielded me through the worst of it, I am still hopeful for the golden prize at the end. That all forgiving moment of pure gladness and ease in which I can package the four years of what I believe was close to pure misery into a capsule gilded in the sweet memories of the very last joyful celebrations of the year. Basically I thought it would all be worth it when at the end I had all my friends around me and we were all doing fun things all the time. As I said before... that has not been the case.
I would now like to retract my earlier statement that I have "done it all" tonight. This evening I have been restless and unmotivated as well as lazy and bored. I want to go out and do things and run around and bike by the light of the moon. Biking by the light of the moon is one of my favorite things to do but that is a chat for another late night. Tonight I wanted to do anything but sit alone in my room, legs crossed on top of my two month old sheets which are caked in dirt from Duane's paws, but that is how the majority of it was spent. Not all of it was spent that way though because just a few minutes ago my closest friend called me with snot and tears in her voice so I ran outside, without thinking, to meet her and hold her and tell her how wonderful she is. That is when the night turned beautiful for me and my body woke up and my heart rose to the task. With my foot halfway out the door I felt around in the dark for my glasses and ran into the steamy blackness in cutoffs and Birkenstocks. The humid air came to meet me as I walked the block separating our houses and saw her familiar form, momentarily illuminated in a halo of orange fog from a street lamp, slowly separate from darkness and become her person. I felt our reliance on each other and felt safer and stronger for it. In that moment I regretted ever complaining about the connections I have built for myself here, because I have done better in many ways than I could ever have imagined.
So I believe, dear reader, that you just witnessed something of an evolution of an evening. The third paragraph of this post is separated from the first two by 20 to 30 minutes and in that time as the sky pushed on towards morning, my mind shifted with the quickness of my step to a feeling of tentative optimism. For the time being I am content to finally close my eyes and not reopen them until I am sure of the promise of another beautiful day.
Labels: stream of consciousness
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
I’m not sure how to express to you
How the lights reverberated
Off the trash cans
And the siding of the houses
Red to blue to red again
I tried to take a video
But the light didn’t catch in the lens
So now all I have is a memory
And as I walked past the apartments
Seeing the officers crowded in the room
I had a peculiar thought
“I am naked,
And no one can see me.”
Then I ran
Knowing that anything I thought was a truth in some way
And knowing that being naked is not the same as baring my soul.
I've been debating for about a week whether to post this poem or not. It was written by my friend Jack (pictured above back in September) and when I read it on his Tumblr for the first time my breath got tangled in my tongue and my head hurt with pride, ached with some unplaceable familiarity, which I think may just be the hallmark of decent writing. It is incredibly beautiful so regardless of what the words are actually about, I was moved in the kind of way when every line plays out a little scene in your mind. I wanted to share it with all of you and let you maybe feel that too. This kid has a real gift with words.