while the moon is high

reclining gracefully into the full plush of the chaise he sighs as the ferns tangle over his ankles and a swift breeze carry the deadened leaves of the months passed by. we share a look and promise never again to partake in such folly but we know that this is nothing but false.  there is a terror in your eyes as the clouds pass over the sun and blame does not fill my heart for this. but the felines are watching now and cursing and calling but we don't move as their yellow eyes pierce the dusk drawing closer and brighter in the coming night.  must we watch them? we are only drawn in, hypnotized. they draw us together in a broken oath the crushing and pouting of injury sustained. permanent. there is permanence.  there are shouts from the trees and heckles from the dirt and we tuck our legs beneath the blankets and draw near each other although we are perpetually repelled.  please sing to me and drown out the wretches that sting my ears and crease my brow. please quiet the noise that forever haunts.

and it all comes flooding back

his hand passed over my eyes as they opened to see the criminals creeping in through the slits in wrists of our poor, poor children.  oh, what have they done? shivering they will rise and bleed over the wooden floors of creaking cottages and the mossy ground of a trembling forest, dying despite the sunlight.  when will they rise and greet the moon and the stars glowing, gleaming bright, high in the sky? they must, oh. they must. and we will rush them and hold their hands high to the heavens as we grasp for the hearts that we shall never reach and oh will they ever be ours? could they ever be? no no no we are far too beautiful for such a tryst. but we reach, i reach, regardless. am i horrifying? do i terrify? freeze the heart and store it in your palms so that when you touch your face i might feel the blush on your skin and the tears that will course down your cheeks and into my veins. oh please don't faint, but swoon everlasting into my arms and rest eternal for me, my love, for you.

i should be snoozin'

I will be picking Becka up from the bus stop in 3.5 hours! Why aren't I napping?!

oh, i see.

the ache of reality is setting in and i can see that all my want was for naught.  your foresight astounds as i watch you make preparations for months to come and i collapse internal as i try to deny what is only too clear.  fearful i request a court but dutifully am denied time after time repeating.  the smallest details are scrutinized until there is nothing more to grasp as all has become apparent.  you don't want me. did you ever? perhaps distance will quiet this ache in my chest and this constant leak in my mind... could it ever, would it ever, will it over and over and over. i wait patiently for all of this to truly weigh me down as it will set the words free, and nothing would be of more calm excitement to me.

searching for a spade

Setting the stage for a beautiful crash, I am unsure of how to act.  Surrounded by felines and uncertain actions, what am I to do? There is no way for me to get done all the things that need to be and I slip through the cracks as I'm reaching to you. Sliding down into nothing, or something... we seem so close, only steps away. It's been four years. Is it finally time? Could it be? I won't be the second again.  I will not. I cannot be torn in two.  But I want you. There's a tragedy in us and I'm not sure --  I'm not sure that I can take another lap in this race. Back and forth, our timing's never right. Let it be now. Let it be us. We will fit like perfect pieces. The cracks will be filled, those lovely cracks, and as they seal so shall we, together. We will rope the stars and pull them to us. They are our present, they are our future, those glamourous stars. We will shine as they do and brighter, we will carve our own eden. I don't do hope well but this is me at my best. My confidence is wavering at this height but I am holding on and no I will not feign or faint. Come to me and we will fill our cracks, we will smooth out the lines.

when will we meet?

and in that soft echo voice i could hear the pain culled from a thousand years' experience.  under the thunderous aggression there is a heartache so real that i reach out to feel it  slip through my fingertips. but i am left empty.  to bathe in your despair, the mist of hot tears tickling my lashes, would be a moment for the ages. the purity would cleanse and mend with soft sighs and careful glimpses. oh, what it is to be constantly in the company of a dream, to be ever taunted by the stars and sparkles of night.  this pain is mine, you've shared.  now let us weep and save this water to again mend and leave us able to return. a promise is a promise.

not so devoid of rational thought.

Today was a really decent day when you cut into it, although it was heavily weighted with immaturity, which is of course necessary in order for us to not take ourselves too seriously.  Vampire literature class was pretty cut and dry, there were presentations done throughout the period so we didn't get much done in the way of discussion. Professor Brinegar is hilarious, though.  He's constantly muttering to himself about things and is seemingly as easily annoyed by long presentations as the class is.  Marvelous! Next I had Death: Myth & Reality which was a snore today. This is unfortunate because I've been very interested to take this class, but something about the way our professor presents the material just, forgive the pun, sucks the life out of the lectures. We were watching a video called The Life and Times of Life and Times which was about the aging process and how very little is currently known about it.  I don't know why I had so much trouble focusing today, although I think I'm going to have to blame it on the rain.  Eleanor was feeling the same sort of absentmindedness and we ended up reverting back to our high school selves which of course involved writing notes during the film.  Another thing that the rain can be blamed for was the stink that was circulating the classroom.  I don't know why Richmond always insists on smelling its worst but I really don't appreciate it.


In order to avoid parking downtown and getting wet from bicycling in the rain, I opted out of my Entrepreneurship class and booked it home early.  It was really nice to just hang out with Shawnee for the evening since we rarely see each other, despite living together.  We made a delicious vegan feast of rosemary mashed potatoes, mac and cheez, and chorizo with asparagus, mushrooms, and onions.  I haven't eat so well in a coon's age.  This was followed closely by a marginally successful craft night. I got a bit of a start on the Metalocalypse dolls that Alanna and I started two summers ago and Shawnee got started on her present for Sara.


I'm not even sure what I'm going to be getting for people for Christmas, but I do know it will probably be cheap.  And by cheap, I mean it's probably going to be my little face grinning merrily. My family will be lucky if I can even make it home for more than one day, which is what Thanksgiving is looking like. It's also looking like I'm going to be making my own T-Day dinner again, which is always a bummer but it's the price one pays for compassion, I guess.


My bed is calling me, and it sounds quite lovely so I think I'll oblige.  Imagine that, two posts in the span of a few hours.  Who knew I was capable of such a thing.


PS Operation get Alanna to move to VA is going to go into full swing. Also Operation lose weight 2k9 is going to be taking effect soon as well. Let's get ready to rumble!

nacho stop playing with me

it's been four years and i am praying for payoff.  patience has proven itself and i am all thrill.  but this demise is fraught with my own doubts. how much longer must i wait? am i even waiting? there is no guarantee here and this is painful to consider.  why is this a plague on me? we are no more familiar than strangers and yet i feel this pull.  i cannot read you.  there have been blatant referrals in the past but they have all but faded away. am i not the same as i was before? have your feelings finally faded? i pray they have not.  i ache to reach out to you but i am afraid of rejection and jeopardy.  i'd almost welcome rejection over this aching in my heart.   i feel the literal coming back to me, the poet is in respite.  there are no tears to bring on the words i once knew, but rather a numbness sweeping over me and laying me to rest. 

i'm wrong

and we were quiet.  there was a frantic pulsing but a silence that wrapped itself, tangled itself around us and froze the blood in our veins with its silent shrieks and painful cries. we, two familiar souls, finding ourselves strangers. gripped in the gnarled bones of regret and ice, unmoving, the blood has slowed. you turned to me and whispered a terrible weight which slipped into my skin and poured through my veins.  to beg for cleansing would be for naught and i abstain, and crawl blind in my stupor to a comforting corner, calm and cold as i chill and shake and murmur my prayers of redemption. we were feverish and clamouring, which only makes this a more painful demise, our noise and life drowned by these shadows, these shapes of mourning. someone reach us, someone save us, please pull me up and out from under these waves.  i crash and cry and pair these words for the illusion of grace that eludes me in all i may try.  fighting no more, i succumb to the sea and drift in softness to the dark below.

Writing a Novel

I think I want to write a novel. It would likely be a tragic love story with flowery language and unfulfilled dreams.  It would probably be best to try and hammer it out while I'm in this state of malcontent but whenever I have the time for it I never seem to remember to put anything on paper.  I should start carrying around a notebook, but I hate carrying things when I don't have to.  Maybe I should try and get my little handmade book published.  I think that might be a good idea. Erynn enjoyed the little blurb I wrote before last night's post, and that gave me a nice little burst of confidence. Anyone looking to publish me?

AFI In New York and Why I Am I so Emotional Lately?

My heart is swept up in storms that I can't define and melodies are tugging at tissues and tendons, leaving me enraptured and entrapped.  Ever-encompassing, I am sighing and in a hot swoon with the shrieks and wails that surround me.  Can you reach me? Will you join me? If there could only be an outlet that I could slip through gracefully and without disdain.  Could there ever be such a way? The chills appear like stars in swarms and swirls and oh how I wish I would warm to them 'fore the ashes envelop me. What is this throbbing? This pulse? I fear if I were to speak this lump would slip and shatter this hard work that I have invested in you. I am cracked and torn. I have heard that before.  With coursing, whispering words, a silent serenade can you feel me? Can you hear me? I will reach for you before we are through and all will be quiet and blessed. There is never an end to this.  There is always an end.


_______________________________________________


I don't know where that came from, but there it is. Anyway. I went to NY with Brett to see AFI on Friday and I had such a great time.  Alanna was supposed to come as well but because she was sick she unfortunately couldn't make it.  Brett and I, after an incident with an ignorant metro parking attendant, made our way to the Megabus stop and embarked at 11:59 (why not 12, Megabus? why not 12?). Although our ticket said we would arrive at 4:20, we ended up running a bit behind and reached New York closer to 5. I welcomed this, though, because I definitely needed the sleep that I got on the bus.  


Walking through the empty streets of Times Square was a little bizarre since the only time I've ever  been in the area has been during daylight hours when people are packed into the streets and sidewalks.  One of the best feelings when arriving super early to a show is seeing that you are the first one there. I don't know why this is really, because my main concern with getting there early is so I can get a good spot on the barricade, but it just really gives me this sense of accomplishment and true dedication.  People started arriving shortly thereafter and tentative conversations were carried out but as the day progressed we really got to know the people around us.  I bonded most with a girl named Becka who was very sweet and I feel like we really made a connection.  This is one of my favorite parts of waiting in line.  She's probably the only person I've ever met in a line who I've really cared to keep contact with.


At one point, we'd gone to Starbucks for some soy chai and as we were leaving, Hunter was coming in.  I think we both felt bad because we acted so awkwardly, but it was just so unexpected and the area was so cramped that it was just... uncomfortable all around for everyone. I think had I been anticipating meeting anyone I would've been alright, but I had no such anticipations and so the awkwardness ran its course.


The show itself was fantastic, much better than the Richmond show. RVA may have had a better setlist, but NYC was greeted with more energy from the boys.  I think being on Jade's side of the stage really made a difference too. I feel like all the action happens over there, who knows why.  Some key moments:

• During GNG it looked like Davey got kicked by Jade, it made me laugh
• Davey kept dropping to his knees dramatically and often looked like he was in physical pain.  The intensity was so palpable though, it was almost as though he couldn't help but fall at the end of the song because some kind of force had just left his body. Crazy.
• During Medicate, Jade messed up the pre-solo solo.  He made the cutest/goofiest face and we all (the audience and the bandmates) laughed with him as he recovered.
• Jade lost his voice when he was singing during the end of the Interview.  It was cute though, so I didn't mind. I love lost voices.
• There were a lot of knowing glances shared.
• Oddly, no songs from BSITS or TAOD were played, which was a little upsetting but not enough to ruin my night.

The energy that night was just so crazy and palpable I could just feel it seeping through me.  I don't know that I can really adequately explain just how right everything felt during that 1.5 hours or so.  I just felt like I needed to be there at that exact moment. I was exactly where I needed to be.  The world was complete for me at that time.  AFI's music has been such a huge influence for me and such a large part of my recovery process.  I have many favorite bands, I think anyone who knows me knows that, but they all represent different parts of my life.

1. Blink-182 -- not only the carefree moments of middle school, but the more serious moments of young-adulthood
2. Good Charlotte -- allowing me to survive and endure the traumas that I experienced at the hands of my step-dad
3. AFI -- making the recovery process from said traumas much easier to cope with and demonstrating the therapeutic power of words
4. Fall Out Boy & Panic! at the Disco -- instilling the bitterness and sass in me that everyone knows and loves today. They really helped me deal with the Liz situation with grace and allowed me to not back down and stand my ground.
5. the Format & Angels and Airwaves -- providing the soundtrack to my first love which, although may have ended poorly, I will never forget.  I don't think it would have been nearly as beautiful or romantic or cinematic without this music's influence.
6. Margot and the Nuclear So & Sos -- showing me that things were not as beautiful as they had been painted to be and providing me with the strength to make the hardest decision I think I have ever had to make.
7. the Cure -- always having the perfect sad song to allow me to cry when I need to the most.

And to be able to experience the music that affects me most in person, live, actively, it is just something I really cannot find words for. It is the most intense and moving thing I ever experience.  I think that sometimes people probably think I'm foolish for liking the music I do because really, not much of it is very hip or forward anymore, but I've never been one to be into things that are hip and forward.  I've always kind of followed my own path and I'm so proud that hasn't changed about me. It's one of the things that I'm most proud of about myself, if nothing else.


Looking at artwork from other artists when doing my artist blogs is painful sometimes, because in school we are told that we need to constantly be revising our work and reshooting and redoing and rethinking -- but it seems as though successful artists just kind of... do.  I'm not saying that they don't think, it just seems as though their thought process is very insular and organic and spontaneous and I miss that about taking pictures, so very much.  I miss loving photography, I miss thinking it's fun. Now I dread it. I feel like I have to drag myself to my camera in order to do work.  I hate calling it work.  While for me it is emotional labor, I don't feel as though I should feel like I am doing work which has such a negative connotation.  I just want to look at art and experience it. At this point, I am so tired of making art which is horrible to say but I feel like it's true.  I have so little confidence in myself with my work, especially after that D+ in my mid-term critique.


I'm not sure where I'm going with this anymore, but it felt good to get some of that stuff out.  I'll end with some of my favorite pictures from Friday's show.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Peace out.

This is old

Sometimes I like the things I write, or at least snippets of them. I'll post more of these as I gain confidence in myself. I don't think anyone I know reads this but if you do, please don't mind how tragic I sound. I was very upset when I wrote these but, as I said, it was quite a few months ago so there is nothing to worry about!



i can't describe the way i'm feeling
there's so much inspiration and idea but i don't know how to let it out
i am possibility girl and i want to be reality girl
i don't know how people really feel about me and that scares me
i feel aggravated at my lack of motivation
at my lack of making my dreams come true
i feel trapped in my own life
i am too literal

there's a feeling in my stomach that tells me that i'm meant for more than i allow myself to achieve
and i'm slinking through shadows that are cast by my own doubts and fears of dismissal and disapproval
nothing should be as hard as i'm making things for myself and these walls that i've built up need to be taking down
i'm being passed by and its only because of my own precautions, the steps that i've taken to protect myself, to shelter myself
the tangles in my hair are the knots in my stomach and i can't breathe for the suffocation that i've created for myself
everything is me me me but at the same time it's not. i want to swim in metaphor and bathe in simile
open the blinds and let the sun stream in, hang lanterns, live in fairy tales
screaming crying but there is no sound, i'm lost within my body
i see myself swinging from the ceiling or sinking to the bottom of a lake
i want to drift off rather than hurt anyone
i need to take hold of my life and make myself happy. i'm not a mother, i'm not a wife, i'm not a caretaker. i am not life support. the only thing i can rely on is myself and i can't stand being relied on so much. it hurts. it's infuriating. i don't want to be touched and i writhe under the strains of relationship and togetherness. i'm not ready for this. i'm not ready for this, i'm not ready for this.
i feel tragic and misunderstood. i feel so terribly unhappy, like some teenaged cliche that's reached its expiration.  i just want to be happy and i want things to be perfect. i want to let go and feel myself drift off and have everything just flow absolutely the way it should. i want these ribs and these hips to jut at the most romantic angles so that i may drift gracefully and awkwardly into people's hearts
i can taste daggers in my palms and iron on my flesh and nothing seems more appealing than that
the tides are turning and lapping at my jaw, my eyes, my hair and oh! i'm sinking now, turning round in the weightless pressure that beats on my lungs and chest
oh sweet joy, heaven's open arms
please let me go, please let me free
i want nothing more than to right now be alone. oh irony, you've come to join me
i've been naive and i wish that i weren't such a bleeding heart
i wish that i realized sooner the promise of being young and careless
mysterious in my silence, the light that dances behind my eyes and invited you in was feverish and clamoring. if only i had waited. if only i'd let things happen they way they should have and not brought them on provoked.
only now am i paying the price, looking to the outside and seeing the hope that i'd been missing. i no longer want to be part of a whole, i want to be whole on my own and add a part down the road, but for now just me, just me by myself. whole. happy. complete.

Uh oh...

i feel the familiar chill of december winds and with those winds comes lightness of body and a pressing on my mind. each year brings a new weight that i can't shrug off or run from but instead it seeps deeper and deeper, burrowing into my skin and finding solace in my bones. sometimes i feel an overwhelming sadness crashing over my body only to recede leaving pebbles over my waterlogged flesh to lodge in my throat.  this helplessness that i feel leaves me trembling and exquisitely alone.  each passing year i feel some new connection with you, and always at your insistence. now finally i am ready to insist in return only to find you've become unreadable. i hesitate and comb my mind, i feel the splitting all over again.  but where patience fell away from me before i am determined to keep it close by my side in the coming days.  

and then there's you.  you who i've been through ups and downs and thicks and thins and still you feel the way you do? i don't even know how to react. i spilled my heart out to you and i don't know that you comprehend the pain that you're causing me.  you are important, and important to me.  it kills me knowing that i don't make you feel that way.  after 6 years you would think that my feelings would be clear, you'd think that it would be understood that you are my best friend. how could you not know? how could you not feel that? why do you think i try and get you to visit all the time? why do you think i come and see you as often as i can.  if it were as easy as just moving i would do it but i can't.  instead of talk to me you would rather pour time and effort into a friendship that means nothing.  it's not real and she doesn't care about you.  you dedicate more time to those who treat you poorly than you do to me, who, according to you, treats you better than anyone you know. why do you do this to yourself? why do you do this to me? since we talked the other night i just can't stop the rising lump in my throat and the fact that i'm losing hope in him isn't helping that lump dissipate.  i just don't know what to do anymore. i don't know what to do about anyone. i

i'm sure anyone who happens upon this who knows me could make some educated guesses about the who's that i'm talking about. and i'm not upset about ending that two year run. not in the least.  i do reminisce about it but even when i think of the good parts, i'm consumed only by the negative.  i made a good decision and i wouldn't think of making that decision any other way, except for sooner. i feel like i made things harder when they didn't need to be, but that isn't for a lack of trying on my part because i tried, i tried so hard and whether that is recognized or not is out of my hands.  i'm thankful, though, for the fact that i'm not dwelling on the events from my childhood. i'd much rather be distraught over happenings in the now than in the then.  

one day i know everything will fall into place the way it should. sometimes, especially in this chill and swoon i feel impatience rapping on my chest and praying for recognition but it will do me no good.  it is necessary to stay true to myself and remember where i came from and what i used to have that i have lost. sometimes it feels as though i have strayed from myself and lost a bit of myself on the road to becoming who i am right now. sometimes that's okay, but when you lose integrity that's something that needs to be recovered and i am working on that slowly but surely.