tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87802804435528383312024-03-13T10:06:11.439-07:00"Dying is a wild night and new road."The heart asks pleasure first,
And then, excuse from pain;
And then, those little anodynes
That deaden suffering,
And then, to go to sleep;
And then, if it should be
The will of its Inquisitor,
The liberty to die.
-Emily Dickinson
Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14696430167877128240noreply@blogger.comBlogger97125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8780280443552838331.post-13170275696294672332017-08-30T19:14:00.004-07:002017-08-30T19:14:33.713-07:00Hello Up ThereI don't know if anyone is out there still, but I have so missed the community and I haven't been on for ages, let alone written anything creative.<br />
I found a job that is both challenging and salaried.<br />
I won't lie, I could stand to make about five hundred more a month to be safe but I like what I'm doing.<br />
Being a therapist is harder than the person in the chair makes it look and I get tired of critical thinking all day every day or being chased out by teenagers, making my case to probation officers, etc.<br />
Something else new happened...I got engaged!<br />
Definitely couldn't be more happier.<br />
Sooooo yeah. I know this isn't long but I would love to talk with everyone again, that is, if anyone is still around. :)Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14696430167877128240noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8780280443552838331.post-37186828146306587572017-02-15T19:52:00.003-08:002017-02-15T19:52:59.520-08:00The BoxThis community has been there for me before and I know I haven't written or read much lately, and I'm sorry, but I have to ask for support again.<br />
I graduated and I ended up finding a fantastic job with a company that has a fantastic reputation in the community and fantastic benefits and time off.<br />
I have my own office now, two in fact.<br />
I should be so happy right?<br />
My dream of being a therapist has come true and yet I've been two of the last four nights sobbing because I am depressed despite taking my low dose antidepressant and I'm beyond anxious.<br />
I cry and cry and then an hour later I want to again.<br />
Sleep is my only reprieve.<br />
Sitting in various chairs looking at my two supervisors and my clinical director of my program as they go over the documentation system, secure email, mandatory reporting, the support group information I have to get together, the domestic violence male and female offender groups I'll be cofacilitating, the number of direct client hours I'll need...<br />
so much information and I can't see clients until my provisional license comes back, whic I couldn't send in until now when I was able to find a job and supervisors.<br />
On my lunch break I shut my office door and laid on my couch curled in a ball. Five comes around and I'm exhausted.<br />
Gone is that promise of working out right after work.<br />
I can't seem to clean.<br />
I get tired , too tired to cook.<br />
I just curl into my dog or boyfriend and cry and miss my job with low responsibility where I wasn't so scared and overwhelmed.<br />
This feels like I'm trapped in a box of hurricane anxiety and empty sadness of depression and I'm pounding on the walls to let me out.<br />
I'm begging my boyfriend to make it stop.<br />
I'm burying my face in my dogs fur holding him tight.<br />
And the next day I go to work with a fake smile on my face, the picture of a put together new therapist.<br />
Coping skills, meds, self care routines that aren't working.<br />
And it won't go away.<br />
Looking around, I see I'm still in the box.Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14696430167877128240noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8780280443552838331.post-10647681155420999142017-01-02T22:43:00.001-08:002017-01-02T22:43:10.613-08:00Is Anyone Out ThereThere thought that maybe I wasn't able to connect with people because I was in school and I had this idea that I needed to pursue my passion before anything.<div>
Finally I succeeded and I graduated with my masters in counseling and then come the job hunt, which I'm still on. </div>
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My days have been filled working at the treatment center giving everything I can (in a healthy way) to the substance abuse population. </div>
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I look around a realize my life has become just that: giving. </div>
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I go to work my eight hour shift with teens that don't care about consequences yet and adults who know all too well. </div>
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Stories that could fill pages and interactions that have had me holding back teas. </div>
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I come home to my loving boyfriend and dog and he reminds me of why I chose this path when I'm down and reminds me of how proud he is. </div>
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Then I look around. </div>
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I spent all my time giving and yet everyone I can be friends with has their own lives. </div>
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Boyfriends.</div>
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Husbands.</div>
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Children.</div>
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I long for a girl's day and yet only see how people are through a facade of social media. </div>
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I reach out when I'm struggling with my depression and lack of money hoping for encouragement and am told that they're busy hold on. </div>
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Truth be told I play therapist to a lot of people who say they're my friends. </div>
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And I'm an idiot because I want so badly to connect with people that I can have a two way relationship with and so I listen. </div>
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I listen and listen and then they have to go or they can't talk because of work or this and that. </div>
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I find myself empty. </div>
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The people I do talk with and have a fulfilling relationship with are friends that live back in my home town four hours away and I wish that I could just see them. </div>
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I wish that the people I know here would treat me as a human and not just as a therapist. </div>
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When I draw the line they apologize and promise and yet it never changes, but I don't want to be alone with only my boyfriend.</div>
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He's my best friend but I want to just have a female friend I can rely on to put in that effort and come over. </div>
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I know it's silly and I know I'm whining, but I look around and wonder how life got so empty.</div>
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I wonder how everything became instagram and Facebook.</div>
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How we didn't have to remember birthdays because Facebook says it and we don't have to ask about something because I think deep inside we crave someone caring so we post a photo or a status. </div>
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We don't connect and we don't give our most valuable resource: time </div>
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How did it all get so empty?</div>
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Is anybody out there?</div>
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Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14696430167877128240noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8780280443552838331.post-1301517027007403472016-10-14T15:23:00.002-07:002016-10-14T15:23:50.551-07:00Oh The Places You Will GoIt's been some time since I've written and I'm not sure if anyone is still out there, but I thought maybe I would look back and write about some of the things that have gone on in my absence.<br />
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At the end of last year I met the most amazing man and we decided to move in together after only two months together. Now, normally I would never be impulsive, although I am prone to impulsive decisions. We are coming up on a year together and it's still just as amazing. As soon as he can save up, he will be buying a ring and I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else. I wish you could see that content smile I get every time I think of or talk about him.<br />
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In the middle of March, I went to Colombia to see one of my friends, which, coincidentally I met on the internet when I needed a Spanish tutor about four and a half years ago. I'm sure that also seems like a sketchy decision, but he's become one of my best friends. I would like to say that from here on out I apologize for the volume of photos, but I want to share the experience with anyone still out there reading.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHaDQEJt_Zk6XDhPa7BTzBzcN5mSApx3KvUadBNxiuAWEXMPRgdmfMvy2H4F4jR5zQQC9rufnIe-k4SeZMU8TsnxAhDnQl_KJ9sYhp7r5hTO8gCny4eddq-DC8nBMizIkfId8RSAuiQrdK/s1600/1391572_10153619828548871_840350908841350364_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHaDQEJt_Zk6XDhPa7BTzBzcN5mSApx3KvUadBNxiuAWEXMPRgdmfMvy2H4F4jR5zQQC9rufnIe-k4SeZMU8TsnxAhDnQl_KJ9sYhp7r5hTO8gCny4eddq-DC8nBMizIkfId8RSAuiQrdK/s320/1391572_10153619828548871_840350908841350364_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The first photo is from the top of a huge, 675 step to the top rock. The view is absolutely breath taking, as were the stairs, and we had a beer with mango in it from the top. To get to this town we had to take a bus and a truck and I was the only clearly white American around, but the people were really friendly. The weather was beautiful, there were little stands with arrepas (some sort of corn tortilla looking thing that varied in taste from each region) and everything was so cheap. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip-JoAcNpJMdO3Wzy60OOZjxqXnmG8QTEesHRivgMRmT52oNV9pwW040FZvfMfrhEDc8l57H5sKpKDdm6lWy_heUaHFX9WWptbzdUXomxXUHSVvzzFtHAs9wL1hh7Yg-BnXRwVIc_K_mhK/s1600/922729_10153643822133871_8219090341862124774_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip-JoAcNpJMdO3Wzy60OOZjxqXnmG8QTEesHRivgMRmT52oNV9pwW040FZvfMfrhEDc8l57H5sKpKDdm6lWy_heUaHFX9WWptbzdUXomxXUHSVvzzFtHAs9wL1hh7Yg-BnXRwVIc_K_mhK/s320/922729_10153643822133871_8219090341862124774_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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This is just one of the street art murals in Bogota, the town that my friend lives. He gives a tour where he tells you about the artist and cultural inspirations for the art work. If you're ever in Bogota, I highly recommend anyone going on this tour, which is donations only. He is extremely knowledgable and passionate about culture. Also, graffiti art is not a crime there as it is in the US and so there are some absolutely beautiful paintings and sculpture pieces around town. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2AdFRpyDzVbCgIdVP48FFt1NEQg4OhX7uKevOtvYHXvK6kQFFBdyj_pyElKaDTTQYkA_Q-0sbjnYiFKeCa-t7_DDfZ_uPIspdxnPNZgh8DIHGaH5IQP3rH7Qgq6itvgpscvoaT_799sKn/s1600/1919514_10153625185853871_2372030139596645801_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2AdFRpyDzVbCgIdVP48FFt1NEQg4OhX7uKevOtvYHXvK6kQFFBdyj_pyElKaDTTQYkA_Q-0sbjnYiFKeCa-t7_DDfZ_uPIspdxnPNZgh8DIHGaH5IQP3rH7Qgq6itvgpscvoaT_799sKn/s320/1919514_10153625185853871_2372030139596645801_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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This is the view atop of the metro cable in Medellin, a huge city where we stayed with his aunt, uncle, and two cousins. I must say, I was overwhelmed by the kindness of his family. My speaking Spanish was almost non existent due to lack of use from being in grad school, but he relayed everything we hoped to say to each other. I think one of my favorite parts of this ten day trip was staying with his family and observing some of the cultural differences, like the woman taking care of everyone first. I tried to help because as most American kids know, if you aren't helping your mom to clean up, you're probably going to get a disapproving look and maybe a snarky comment. Another interesting fact was that the poor and rich lived intermingled in this city, unlike many of the cities that we are all from where there's a clear difference of who lives where. I would also recommend going here because the streets are beautiful. There's an unkemptness to the grass, but the streets and medians are covered in these lush, vibrant plants, flowers, and trees. Dream streets everywhere. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivqfmgSxpeC5M8ZX8nZmPZJyWD6lVP3txKAg3dqwB0Ei5LdNifyWrJ5BuGd5PX-6LFMZ0hdHG4ywSsYuOo85lFYDWiSHFGpRNOit2hjQWYccaU45AX8FXalDpFI8bNZVqqVvRxvsB-rzaZ/s1600/1935633_10153619827658871_7810992729633476036_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivqfmgSxpeC5M8ZX8nZmPZJyWD6lVP3txKAg3dqwB0Ei5LdNifyWrJ5BuGd5PX-6LFMZ0hdHG4ywSsYuOo85lFYDWiSHFGpRNOit2hjQWYccaU45AX8FXalDpFI8bNZVqqVvRxvsB-rzaZ/s320/1935633_10153619827658871_7810992729633476036_n.jpg" width="176" /></a></div>
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This is the rock I climbed to the top of in Guatape, where the first picture was taken from. I'm sorry that they are out of order. :)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnLZvD10UePvnvRZBdM69xOBAJAFtRDB2zSOqPkbRwbeG5zr7uBGygb_ME80hBPUeUJTsD998jjABLXVkMguhZm_JZ9N2BEFg92LBJGKhnBb3z1aO0vs6X4E2ghFDj907rQ9GFwhMX8FYT/s1600/1958277_10153626258228871_5368495978546752632_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnLZvD10UePvnvRZBdM69xOBAJAFtRDB2zSOqPkbRwbeG5zr7uBGygb_ME80hBPUeUJTsD998jjABLXVkMguhZm_JZ9N2BEFg92LBJGKhnBb3z1aO0vs6X4E2ghFDj907rQ9GFwhMX8FYT/s320/1958277_10153626258228871_5368495978546752632_n.jpg" width="176" /></a></div>
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We went to Cartagena, which was actually my least favorite part of the trip. It's more of a Caribbean town and extremely hot and humid. The architecture was beautiful, but this is the place where I think I contracted something like E coli and returned home to be stuck in the bathroom for ten days. The arrepas were spot on though and the fish served at dinner had teeth still. </div>
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Since Cartagena was not good to my digestive tract, my friend went to the fruit market on his own and brought back a plethora of fruits for me to try. His wonderful mother was there for Easter weekend and she cut up the fruit and showed me how to eat or break into each kind. Love his mom. She gave me the coolest, scariest key chain with a giant ant from Colombia in it and a really neat woven bag from the indigenous people. </div>
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We climbed to the top of a castle in Cartagena, which was extremely hot and where I continued to find that Vans were not good walk wear. </div>
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More street art. </div>
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I put this picture up because while I am extremely sun burnt, I am drinking alcohol by the beach in a freaking pineapple. A real pineapple drink. We also went jet skiing and we found out that when thrown off into the ocean, I'm the better swimmer and would probably last at sea longer. </div>
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I returned home with some crazy stomach anger, but I truly fell in love with the Colombian people. Seriously the kindest, friendliest people. They are also extremely politically minded and while in other places it's not appropriate table talk, it IS there. Also, they're not happy about the cocaine stereotype and they want you to go see for yourself how awesome it is. The showers are weird and when you use hot water you have to have the pressure low, the fruits and juices are out of this world, and if you go, go to Crepes y Waffles for a scoop of blackberry ice cream and then a scoop of guanabana. Seriously. I'm in love with guanabana, which you can't get in the US. Also, I saw an avocado the size of my forearm, which I don't like, but it was still cool. I really learned the importance of language and communication as well and how alone you can feel when a culture is so vastly different. </div>
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I finished out my semester of grad school and I went to an internship interview for a treatment center and then in May I went to Germany, Poland, and the Czech Republic for a Holocaust history trip. How am I affording these trips you ask yourself? Colombia is super cheap in every way and I saved for an entire year to go to Europe. Now I'm broke. We'll say I'm rich in experience. :) </div>
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We went to Auschwitz and I can't fully rely how amazing that experience was. You felt such a heaviness and at times wanted to cry or were overcome with anxiety. It was a beautiful, peaceful day, and it almost didn't seem right in that place, and yet it was perfect. This experience will be forever etched in my heart. </div>
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These are actual nail scratches in the gas chambers... :'(</div>
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The astronomical clock in Prague! Another check off my bucket list. It was amazing. The people in the Czech Republic were not actually that nice or friendly, which is disappointing as I'm Czech, but the architecture was breath taking. </div>
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More beautiful Prague architecture. </div>
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Krakow at night. We went to a Jazz bar and ate fantastic dumplings and had huge glasses of beer. The Czech Republic and Poland were extremely cheap compared to the dollar and we had amazing food and drink for cheap. </div>
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Me in Prague, just looking at the city and taking obligatory selfies. Sorry these are out of country order. My computer made it too tedious to reorganize. :)</div>
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Faces of Warsaw.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmXDsgWRAN1bZVguM6WMpvDkHHLIk_AzpJRBiDas2PpbhnSVFIEYLDozjDGm9-h57VxsTjl1d9gVhJmRhTRvC24cRzwLNEO8WwgJIKXbAE8x2FTl3yGiJsfz4Lp0PvCsmfIfXSyOE1CfT0/s1600/13260197_10153774617238871_7408332998062680560_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmXDsgWRAN1bZVguM6WMpvDkHHLIk_AzpJRBiDas2PpbhnSVFIEYLDozjDGm9-h57VxsTjl1d9gVhJmRhTRvC24cRzwLNEO8WwgJIKXbAE8x2FTl3yGiJsfz4Lp0PvCsmfIfXSyOE1CfT0/s320/13260197_10153774617238871_7408332998062680560_n.jpg" width="176" /></a></div>
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Here is just a really cool picture in Berlin. What a cool city. Seriously. Go. </div>
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The Brandenburg Gate!</div>
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This was a castle I had homemade peach schnaps at. This place was like the set of a movie. I also walked thirteen miles that day. </div>
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I had too many photos to put here of course, but I rode a train and found out I get really motion sick on trains-shout out to Dramamine-and I've seen the Berlin Wall. I had wonderful candy and food, I saw the Reichstag building and the house the Wannasee conference took place in. I have seen such beautiful and amazing places this year and I'm really blessed. I always wanted to travel not just because of the beauty and culture or the history, but also because I think it's good to be uncomfortable. You throw yourself into a new environment and then you find out how strong and resourceful you can really be. I met some cool people and it makes me appreciate my slower paced Midwest city, free water at restaurants, and free bathrooms all over America. </div>
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After my adventures I started interning, which went from hopeful to not what I thought it was going to be at all. It's now October and I finally have a client I work with with another therapist. I'm nervous that I won't be a good therapist when I get out and I'm still afraid to do solo sessions and everything a therapist has to do in general, but if there's one thing I've taken from this experience, it's learning more about having stronger boundaries and confrontations in group and individual sessions. I can actually confront something and not feel bad or like it will affect them liking me. I still fear that I'm not good for this job and that I don't have what it takes. It's scary to think that I graduate in December and how much I still have to learn, but I really really hope that someday I get there, which everyone says I will after getting more experience. Actually, many professionals I've asked say that it took them at least a year to feel fully confident so at least people I really admire and respect were where I am. </div>
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Thursday I take my licensure exam, which has made me extremely anxious. I'm studying like crazy, I got on depression medicine to get out of the seasonal slump, and while I'm still prone to bouts of sadness and general life anxiety, things are manageable. </div>
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So, there's an update on my life. If anyone took the time to read this thanks. :) Life has been changing and 2016 has been a ride, but I hope that when it slows down I can start to do more creative work. </div>
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Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14696430167877128240noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8780280443552838331.post-77075931853314921812016-08-02T21:46:00.000-07:002016-08-02T21:46:29.242-07:00Monsters Monsters meet below the summer's eve<br />
Eat, breath, writhe, scream<br />
Cordial hellos sliced through steel teeth<br />
Walk among, never bring<br />
Fog to the peripherals<br />
For a short while pretend to be meek.<br />
Slink in the wake<br />
Casting dark shadows<br />
Tease the mind<br />
When vulnerability leaves them mellow<br />
<br />
Cut it, break it mortal skin<br />
Tantalize with earthly sin<br />
Hoping they don't notice simple thigh lace hemlines<br />
Sewed together with hemlock trees and wintery pine<br />
The breeze floats echos of sympathy<br />
Will you notice platonic rag bones<br />
In shades of harsh tones<br />
And girls making their way on bended knees?<br />
<br />
Ashes, Ashes, we all fall down<br />
Down to the bottom of bottle and pipe until we all drown.<br />
Hone your skills of tongue and lips<br />
Come one, come all<br />
For it is well known that worthiness is in your hips<br />
Crack the vase to water the flowers<br />
Slow knife pendulum counting out your final hours<br />
Good intentions slipping away<br />
Only to turn up sour and vague<br />
<br />
Run little girl<br />
As fast as you can<br />
Be a good pet<br />
And play hide and seek<br />
Dry your eyes, I can see in the dark where they leak<br />
<br />
Now my breath is hot and close<br />
Creeps from your neck<br />
Down to your toes<br />
I'll take you away into the forest<br />
Prune insecurities like a silent florist<br />
Pry at the locks where your soul you keep<br />
Feel the soft soil, make it your home<br />
I'll keep you safe, my dear, empty and warm<br />
Among the redwoods<br />
Where your monsters are<br />
The place you hide where your darkness was born.<br />
<br />
<br />Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14696430167877128240noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8780280443552838331.post-77293231461492797292016-06-15T21:19:00.000-07:002016-06-15T21:25:45.861-07:00Fourth StepI missed home tonight<br />
Laying in my apartment deck straining to see tiny pin pricks of stars<br />
Competing with restless city lights.<br />
Longing for the vast ocean of fields and pastures waving like proverbial prairie waves.<br />
I always thought how soft the grasses looked<br />
Until I laid down and felt the scratching against my bare arms and legs.<br />
"Remember us when you are grown.<br />
Remember us when you are gone."<br />
The crisp stillness pillowed on humid summer air. <br />
Calves murmur bedtime protests to their mothers<br />
While locusts hum midnight lullabies.<br />
And the hardwood underneath me tugs my heart strings back down,<br />
Down to urban loneliness.<br />
I looked to find myself in a new place, a new country, aspirations attained<br />
But I still feel like a child when my father texted me to say that he went to AA last night.<br />
That he has renewed his commitment to the Lord and that his pastor believes God will use his testimony.<br />
That God will restore his marriage with my stepmother<br />
Besides the fourteen months of probation and domestic violence classes.<br />
I wanted to ask him how the fourth step would go,<br />
When he must inventory the hurts and make amends.<br />
His daughter, at the other end of the state,<br />
Going to graduate school, traveling the world, jn a good relationship and working.<br />
I wonder if he thinks I'm fine in true denial fashion.<br />
Because it hurts me when I think about how I want to tell him that God wants him to make amends with his daughter<br />
And that sobriety, not his estranged second wife should be the focus.<br />
Someone I think I know that he'll never truly tell me he's sorry, holding a list in his hands with tears streaming down his face.<br />
It could have been worse but it hurt enough<br />
Enough to make my heart twinge a bit when we talk.<br />
Enough to make me sad in my hotel in Berlin that he doesn't know I'm there because we haven't talked in a month and a half.<br />
Enough that I wish he'd ask me about my boyfriend and how well it's going<br />
Or my internship and the things that I hear that make me wonder at the depth of human suffering and resiliency.<br />
I want him to do the fourth step.<br />
I want him to know it hurt.<br />
But when I tell him I have some unresolved feelings he tells me that he's sorry and he hasn't been perfect but he did his best<br />
And I can't hate him because it's true,<br />
But it can still hurt<br />
And I can still feel alone in my hurt<br />
And lay on my deck wishing I could just rest in the serenity of a night at home.Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14696430167877128240noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8780280443552838331.post-24334248045871829402016-06-05T13:03:00.000-07:002016-06-05T13:13:24.518-07:00Breath DeepLet us stop now<br />
Breath deep, breath deep<br />
Warm winds of muggy change<br />
Breath full, breath full<br />
Cups of alabaster dreams<br />
Wake up, wake up<br />
Lulled to sleep by morning sun<br />
<br />
Eyes shaken, waken<br />
Noonday song, Noonday song<br />
Come hither, wither<br />
You bask in wrongs, bask in wrongs<br />
Hold your chest now<br />
Feel it throb, feel it throb<br />
Take the light, ignore the plight<br />
Before it's lost, before it's lost<br />
<br />
Stepping on cracks to break the bough<br />
Hush, hush<br />
Settle in easy to your cotton covered place<br />
So safe, so safe<br />
Knit regrets amongst lies justified<br />
Mend inside, mend inside<br />
Whisper softly<br />
The day has come to fly, come to fly<br />
<br />Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14696430167877128240noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8780280443552838331.post-92028435885291956082016-05-07T02:50:00.001-07:002016-05-07T03:34:16.616-07:00... I'm always sorry that moment you get home<br />
Because today I spent curled up in a ball<br />
Watching the sun drift down the wall<br />
And the other yesterdays.<br />
Today I thought I'd watch the sun come up<br />
Change of pace<br />
Since I kept company with the moon<br />
Dry quiet leaving my skin cold.<br />
I haven't thought a unique thought in days,<br />
The pauses leaving me bewildered,<br />
Had I even been thinking at all?<br />
Two days ago I cried into your pillow<br />
Because the weight was too much<br />
But my friend called me because she had a feeling she needed to call.<br />
I haven't slept at the right time of the day in at least two weeks<br />
I haven't worked out consistently in a little more than three.<br />
I was sorry when you came home today because I've been so depressed that I've laid looking at the wall,<br />
Filling space<br />
And you ask me what's wrong so concerned but nothing is<br />
It just hurts.<br />
I want to run and run but can't find my motivation.<br />
I want to read and research but I can't stay focused.<br />
I want to do more than sleep, shower, take care of the dog, and sit quietly. <br />
I want to not feel the self inflicted pressure of getting a lot done or appearing as though I did before you get home.<br />
I want to sleep at midnight and get up at nine thirty<br />
Instead of five in the morning until one in the afternoon.<br />
I want someone to listen, but I don't ever know what I would say.<br />
Just the feeling of someone near to ease it when it's most difficult.<br />
I want to tell you I'm sorry,<br />
Because you love me unconditionally<br />
And I'm still illogically afraid everyone will think that I, the future therapist,<br />
Am unable to fight off my own depression, therefore crazy.Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14696430167877128240noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8780280443552838331.post-69187661473655668462016-03-08T23:25:00.003-08:002016-03-31T12:11:39.110-07:00New BeginningsIt's been a long time since I've felt the stirring to write, or the ability.<br />
It's not poetic like usual, but I want to tell the story, in all it's grittiness.<br />
Over the past few months I've felt my world change and illuminate in a way I never thought possible.<br />
I spent the summer exploring myself, sitting outside on my front steps smoking and drinking with my neighbor,<br />
Looking at the veiled stars above the city lights,<br />
Drinking coffee under the tree at the park while my dog explored the area we'd seen a hundred times before.<br />
My emotionally abusive (he'd disagree) boyfriend broke up with me for a beautiful girl he'd been friends with<br />
And I slipped into a relationship with a close friend.<br />
I look back and I feel guilty because I know now I ran to him because I needed someone that didn't have me parking my car two blocks away before I got home so that I could cry where he wouldn't see.<br />
I needed to be myself and know it was okay.<br />
It was easy to fall into talk of a future and it went too far.<br />
My ex and I still had a lease and we still had chemistry and I found myself wrapped in his sheets between times his new girlfriend would fly in<br />
And I would see mine<br />
Feeling that torturous question of character.<br />
You know what I hate most?<br />
I loved him still.<br />
I hate him and I love him and he was a virus inside of my heart.<br />
Thanksgiving came and despite the way my family loved him, it didn't feel just right.<br />
We were at dinner and my mom thought I said something in a way that implied I was ashamed of something she did and I clarified what I meant.<br />
Immediately, in front of everyone, he told me I was selfish and mean.<br />
It happened again.<br />
Later that night we talked and he didn't ask me what had happened between my mom and I, why I felt it was difficult to show emotions with her,<br />
The dynamics and the history of the messy coming of age I had.<br />
We didn't see eye to eye.<br />
Instead of asking me how I felt and listening, he shut down, said he wouldn't say anything at all.<br />
The attraction was never there.<br />
I hated that he was this intelligent person who let bad choices earlier in his life cause him to lose the fire and ambition.<br />
And so, until my birthday I didn't talk to him much.<br />
I couldn't even try anymore and I began to resent him.<br />
On my birthday, my friends planned a going out to a bar and so I invited a guy friend of mine to come along.<br />
I don't know why I did that, but it seemed like what I wanted in the moment, to flirt, to be free again I suppose.<br />
My two friends and I went to meet him at the bar, he said he brought his friends.<br />
It was an Irish pub style bar where the drinks were strong and the crowd was relaxed.<br />
We walked up to the table and I saw him.<br />
Not my friend.<br />
His friend.<br />
I only saw him the whole night and we talked and talked, but he held back.<br />
When the bars closed down my friend was making out with one of his friends and I was going into my friend's room.<br />
I don't know why we had sex...<br />
I look back and I think, that was the moment I knew I couldn't keep up with this game where I was telling myself that I was this empowered woman who was attractive and smart and doing whatever I wanted was part of that process.<br />
When I went home that day his friend and I messaged and a week later he was driving 45 minutes to my city to have dinner.<br />
That moment.<br />
I want to hold on to it forever.<br />
We talked and talked and found that we had so much in common and soon we were back at my apartment.<br />
There was this moment where we paused and suddenly leaned in and kissed and it was the most amazing moment, but it was amazing because that was all it was, a kiss.<br />
He stayed over that night and it was so perfectly innocent.<br />
We saw each other the next day and the next and then I went away for Christmas and my friend that I was dating and I fought and discussed the end.<br />
I was honest with this new one, I told him I didn't know, but I needed out of this.<br />
There was a struggle, I couldn't say the words I needed to say...<br />
Finally, it came.<br />
I was having this dual relationship and I had to end it.<br />
That was the first shift, when I started doing the right thing for once.<br />
And for once I was spending time with this amazing person who kissed me and told me he didn't want to sleep with me yet.<br />
He said, "I want you, but I want YOU."<br />
The first pieces of all the broken things I had tried to clean up began to slowly come together and then all at once.<br />
I told my ex we couldn't sleep together anymore when it happened a few times when my new guy and I were seeing each other and he was upset.<br />
He said that we had an agreement and I was manipulative and not a real friend but for once, doing the right thing, having boundaries, sloppy ones, but boundaries, was more empowering then anything else I had been doing since.<br />
Things exploded with growth from there.<br />
The moments are so beautiful and so pure, so infinitely perfect.<br />
He touched the scars on my thighs and never said a word.<br />
When I asked him he said what happened in the past doesn't define who I am in the future.<br />
When I cried after a sad movie he held me close and kissed my head.<br />
When my ex moved out because he was mad at me he drove three nights a week to my city to watch my dog.<br />
He took me on day dates, lounged with me and watched movies, spent all his free time and was so proud of me.<br />
I can't tell you how fantastic it is to be with someone who you can trust completely and who nurtures your soul and heals your heart.<br />
I didn't think that I was going to live this life, after everything that happened to me. I felt too damaged, though I had pieced myself together as best as I could.<br />
Somehow I found this amazing human being that I thank God for because I know I did so many things that didn't warrant a deserving of this.<br />
I got a counseling internship in his city.<br />
I'm traveling to South America for spring break.<br />
My dad went to jail for domestic abuse against my step mother and I still can't sort out how I feel about our estranged relationship, where we try and keep in contact by strings.<br />
And at two months and a week, he and I signed a lease together.<br />
It's crazy and I know it, but I think he's the one and life has never been so beautiful.<br />
Nothing and everything makes sense and finally I'm making the real right choices.<br />
I know this was a bit lengthy and not in my usual style, but I can't even do anything but feel it all so deeply.<br />
I miss you all, say hi and let me know if you're still out there!<br />
<3<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14696430167877128240noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8780280443552838331.post-68228004259834756892015-12-20T16:07:00.002-08:002015-12-20T17:56:09.641-08:00DiseaseI look for you among the willows<br />
Hunt you on the breeze<br />
Hold your hand tightly<br />
Plant on your lips disease<br />
I'll capture you every moment<br />
Leave you on your knees<br />
The hounds are there watching silently<br />
As the withering completes<br />
Listen for me as a siren<br />
Catch your breath as I pass by<br />
Hold in your scream<br />
Honey I'll show you the best way to die<br />
Confuse you with paradise.<br />
<br />Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14696430167877128240noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8780280443552838331.post-57927540887565153702015-10-25T23:44:00.000-07:002015-10-26T00:18:16.234-07:00Mortem Aestas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY_rx0T9T0Jn1sE2b8Xn0WbV96laiRtRdpBHu4JP45Hy-Fzk7Ee3rPm60uEgzmVhlDjHo6W-EKs2YhiyiFnwOHkeFlLFeyxz-O8u0P8h67vwApqzWmIhvSm6bS_2qe5dIup2yaOlOM5Hoy/s1600/tumblr_static_the_enchanted_forest9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY_rx0T9T0Jn1sE2b8Xn0WbV96laiRtRdpBHu4JP45Hy-Fzk7Ee3rPm60uEgzmVhlDjHo6W-EKs2YhiyiFnwOHkeFlLFeyxz-O8u0P8h67vwApqzWmIhvSm6bS_2qe5dIup2yaOlOM5Hoy/s400/tumblr_static_the_enchanted_forest9.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
His hand wraps round her neck like a sultry, sharpened drape</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Lycan fingers clasping and counting<br />
Each delicate vertebrae</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Gently stroking the exposed ivory </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Lips close<br />
Teasing<br />
With breath frost aquamarine </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He has her little humming bird heart<br />
On harlot knees</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Emerald pines bare witness silently</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
To summer's setting in her opaline eyes</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Ask for mercy<br />
Pray</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Diminishing shrouds of vibrant pride </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A darkening rush<br />
Of snow flaked breeze </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And suddenly find<br />
The forest lonely. </div>
<br />Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14696430167877128240noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8780280443552838331.post-22332085104280244132015-10-22T22:41:00.004-07:002015-10-22T22:41:58.257-07:00Still HereHey guys, I wanted to make sure everyone knew that I hadn't dropped of the face of the earth. Grad school and my work schedule have made it really challenging to write but I've been working on a creative piece, so if anyone is left, I'll soon have something for reading and feedback.<br />
<br />
<3Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14696430167877128240noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8780280443552838331.post-13191849481016832152015-08-19T15:11:00.001-07:002016-03-31T12:11:07.110-07:00Peace and Other Things"You'd think with as many as I already have that I wouldn't be nervous!"<br />
"Hey, that's okay. I get nervous too."<br />
My hands are clasping and unclasping on my chest, forced breathing in and out calmly.<br />
"I'm just going to use the q-tips to feel around and then I'm going to mark it."<br />
"Okay, is it going to hurt a lot?"<br />
"Um, some people say it's the same as a nostril piercing."<br />
Cringe.<br />
"That one hurt, except my second one. I was drunk in Greece when I got it."<br />
He chuckles and makes a mark on either side of my nose.<br />
"Alright? Are you ready?"<br />
Breathe out.<br />
"Yes."<br />
"Breathe innnnn, now out."<br />
On the breath out I feel it go through the center of my nose so accutely, involuntary tears running down my cheeks.<br />
The metal slipping through in place of the needle.<br />
"Wow. I'm really happy with that." he says, smiling wide.<br />
"You look like your'e trying to be like every other girl." he texted me.<br />
I don't think so.<br />
Because I'm smiling too, and it's been a while since I've done what I wanted without inhibition.<br />
<br />
He is lying next to me, quietly now, leaving me to the gentle epiphanies of the night.<br />
"I'll only be gone for the year. I'm serious about you. Where you go, I want to go."<br />
The coquettish smile is what I know how to do best,<br />
But in the night, when he is fast asleep, I push his arms and legs from their smothering embrace.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAueGDBXtFn2ijpe-o9tOwZWoXTPpagtAiH0BZbu0oydwJdGB4z8Vj_0pStHyffgwHhXAfffNcqdM7rMvq-TerwNuChcUKsX7sEUFRWHNXYYqnALVoe1GFgbaNnP5i0pJvTgpsIcubvPs-/s1600/IMG_20150802_162032.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAueGDBXtFn2ijpe-o9tOwZWoXTPpagtAiH0BZbu0oydwJdGB4z8Vj_0pStHyffgwHhXAfffNcqdM7rMvq-TerwNuChcUKsX7sEUFRWHNXYYqnALVoe1GFgbaNnP5i0pJvTgpsIcubvPs-/s320/IMG_20150802_162032.jpg" width="320" /></a>Cringe at the soft kisses on my hair and shoulders.<br />
I was cautious, dragging my heels and promising I could only look out for myself right now.<br />
Couldn't be in another relationship.<br />
Then we were a rush of skin.<br />
Loneliness dressed up as self-empowerment seeking refuge under the awning of my friend.<br />
In the morning I look at him as I get up for work and turn away.<br />
The warm feelings of watching his smile as the dog runs around the park abruptly fading.<br />
<br />
I almost said your name in place of his.<br />
Biting back the bitter poison before it left my lips.<br />
Still etched on my heart.<br />
They say you shouldn't carve your name into trees because it scars them.<br />
But they say a lot of things<br />
And the scar is still there, throbbing.<br />
Somehow my thoughts always turn to you...<br />
<br />
It was a double date with a coworker that she set up and ended with<br />
His lips on mine,<br />
breath infused with beer and courage.<br />
Hands in my hair.<br />
"I have to ask, what are you looking for?"<br />
There it is.<br />
Heaving the eternal internal sigh.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyYsKIqMNsMws3tGs8HKRxmG307eCxA-BYCdQEsOWU4glDu_2CGSECA7rAsjvRRNTG-EFVCCaoXAOTRo3MCEsqTberYe6NcA4GplIaGYRHnLU759Zw6jB7hANo7de4uoRvKLTLpvdTtnbs/s1600/IMG_20150616_014004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyYsKIqMNsMws3tGs8HKRxmG307eCxA-BYCdQEsOWU4glDu_2CGSECA7rAsjvRRNTG-EFVCCaoXAOTRo3MCEsqTberYe6NcA4GplIaGYRHnLU759Zw6jB7hANo7de4uoRvKLTLpvdTtnbs/s320/IMG_20150616_014004.jpg" width="320" /></a>"I don't know, to be honest. I recently got out of a relationship so I'm not really looking for anything right now. What are you looking for?"<br />
"A relationship. It's been about a year and a half since I've been in one."<br />
I didn't text him back the next day.<br />
<br />
<i>"Sunshine. blue skies, please go away.</i><br />
<i>My girl has found another and gone away.</i><br />
<i>I know to you it might sound strange</i><br />
<i>But I wish it would rain."</i><br />
I didn't cry when you said it was over, not much.<br />
My arm hung lazily from the open car window,<br />
Frankie Valli telling me that big girls don't cry<br />
And the Temptations singing about their girl<br />
All of us wishing it would rain.<br />
To wash away those things that you say...<br />
"I think she's the one."<br />
"I still love you and you're both amazing women."<br />
"I can't be in a monogamous relationship. It makes me lie and that's not who I am."<br />
"I miss you."<br />
"Love you hun."<br />
<br />
You are the winter.<br />
You are the fall.<br />
The sunny days when the trees bend and sway,<br />
Light reflecting a million beams and the clear blue sky a translucent array of veins.<br />
The hope and promise of warmth and serenity only to feel the scathing death of cold.<br />
Beautiful, misleading, lost.<br />
I wouldn't call you a storm.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLwi_UL7ClT9ytBKREL47ehivrkf8P7oqnIjRfC00cYzuCk1namnclVcRzrlK_EAtRVp5a7WrnkGGO3R_XamuP5sRZJHFohXU7NGlsDFF3ayLNngrdSFNvT501u8Kheu1or-QRjB-GBdp0/s1600/IMG_20150804_174433.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLwi_UL7ClT9ytBKREL47ehivrkf8P7oqnIjRfC00cYzuCk1namnclVcRzrlK_EAtRVp5a7WrnkGGO3R_XamuP5sRZJHFohXU7NGlsDFF3ayLNngrdSFNvT501u8Kheu1or-QRjB-GBdp0/s320/IMG_20150804_174433.jpg" width="320" /></a>Those are majestic.<br />
Honest.<br />
They only promise the driving rains and rolling thunder.<br />
All those pass through the destruction stripped and cleansed.<br />
You are the season of death.<br />
Conspiring.<br />
You are death and I wither under your gaze.<br />
<br />
Thunk and clink go the weights on the Olympic platform.<br />
Rhythmic vibrations<br />
Taught muscles strain at their sinews.<br />
Break me.<br />
Make me anew.<br />
I haven't passed through the fire.<br />
Yet yielded ice.<br />
A gentle glow melting from the inside.<br />
Not yet.<br />
Don't thaw yet.<br />
Don't come back yet.<br />
"I wish I had never met you."<br />
"You don't really mean that, but if you do, that really hurts."<br />
But I think,<br />
I think I really do.<br />
<br />
<i>Or do I?</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
What would you say if I told you I was no different than anyone else?<br />
I rip my stitches out early too,I<br />
Feel the pulsating of my beating heart and the words uttered in haste.<br />
The ones we should keep to ourselves<br />
Drunk on sunshine and pain<br />
And indifference.<br />
"Just because he had to come back for school it doesn't minimize the summer or change what's happened. It's not like that. I don't think I have to tell you that, but it's important that I did."<br />
<i>I guess we are the insane as we ignore the mirror's truth</i><br />
In Flames on the Itunes que and the sidewalk scorching my bare skin.<br />
How long can you stand the flame and not be made ash?<br />
<i>Find the exit sign and disappear.</i><br />
It doesn't take long, in case you were wondering.<br />
<br />
<i>I'm guarded and therefore I can endure</i><br />
<i>A little bit more </i><br />
<i>Just a little bit more</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Sinner or saint?<br />
Does it really matter in the end?<br />
How we all choose to live our lives,<br />
Does it really matter?<br />
This summer I learned that maybe it doesn't.<br />
I think in the end it's only if we are happy and don't needlessly hurt<br />
Or allow ourselves to stay caught in someone else's crossfires.<br />
I smile for those that are in love<br />
Genuinely mean the congratulations of good news for others.<br />
No matter what, it always comes around.<br />
Something like the ebb and flow of the tide<br />
And other over used metaphors.<br />
Know thyself<br />
Wishing on the heads up penny I found.<br />
Get up and try another day.<br />
It's all going to be okay.<br />
And that<br />
That brings me peace.Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14696430167877128240noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8780280443552838331.post-86616706361918460762015-07-10T14:58:00.001-07:002015-07-10T15:06:24.142-07:00EmptyThere is a certain feeling that nestles down in your heart when you enter an abandoned house.<br />
<div>
An unnatural emptiness that seeps through your scuffed twelve-year-old sneakers, </div>
<div>
Causing you to pull your jacket closer. </div>
<div>
Carefully touching the deep brown varnished hand rail. </div>
<div>
Wincing at the creek of old protesting stairs, looking around to see if anyone heard. </div>
<div>
They hadn't. </div>
<div>
Touching the bubbled white with tiny pink flowered wallpaper at the door jam. </div>
<div>
The gravitation to the lit, empty room is necessary, </div>
<div>
But the clouds are black and the trees bend and sway in the wind. </div>
<div>
The kind of wind that it takes only a glance from curious eyes out a window to chill. </div>
<div>
This time I pull both jacket sides close. </div>
<div>
Cornfield a dull tan with the poor shaving of the combine razor leaving scraggled roots of stalks. </div>
<div>
And the old tractor trying to quietly sleep under the protesting trees.</div>
<div>
Its so still. </div>
<div>
So still compared to the picture displayed by the window that I must go to the next room, feeling dread prompted by the dark space to the left where you enter the attic. </div>
<div>
I can't pull my jacket any tighter around me. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We had gone to my grandfather's house for Thanksgiving,</div>
<div>
Now filled with us and my new grandma's married in family. </div>
<div>
It was so difficult to remember this additional cousin's name. </div>
<div>
Landon.</div>
<div>
But everyone giggled as I loudly whispered, "What's lingerie boy's name?" to my aunt. </div>
<div>
Not that I knew what that meant, </div>
<div>
Not that anyone knew how I had concluded the two sounded close. </div>
<div>
Kids sticking olives on their fingers and sucking them off, all laughing. </div>
<div>
My new older cousin Cassie had said "shit" outside. </div>
<div>
And my mom looked tired. </div>
<div>
Then one day she couldn't take it, the meanness that didn't take leave when the alcoholism did. </div>
<div>
Grandma, now not my grandma, promising to call. </div>
<div>
She didn't. </div>
<div>
And there I was, visiting the empty home. </div>
<div>
Except, it wasn't empty, just my grandfather downstairs. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
There are some cacophonous stirrings so loud that the heart screams until the prefrontal cortex vibrates with every beat.<br />
It's there, subtle<br />
Screaming<br />
So loudly that my neck and shoulders hitch up into the base of my spinal column<br />
Until I crumple into sleep.<br />
"I have feelings for her. I'm breaking it off."<br />
The phone is cradled in my hand, illuminated from being pulled away.<br />
The ceiling is that damn popcorn texture.<br />
"Are you there?"<br />
Clearing my throat, "Yes."<br />
"You abandoned me."<br />
"I thought it was best to stay here for the summer and work on myself."<br />
"Why couldn't you have done this last summer?"<br />
"I did what I felt was right. What I thought would make me a better person and better girlfriend."<br />
"You abandoned me. I gave you my whole heart for two years. She wants to be as committed as I do."<br />
My head rolls to the side, I need to take the damn dishes to the sink.<br />
A tear rolls onto my pillow.<br />
"I'm sorry."<br />
"Yeah, me too."<br />
<br />
What made his house feel that way? I often pondered.<br />
Absence of soul or self or love?<br />
Order.<br />
Chaos.<br />
Rinse and repeat.<br />
The choices of upheaval and bonding that turn endlessly.<br />
Key turning in the lock,<br />
A dog wagging himself side to side in greeting.<br />
Darkened familiar doorways and a screech of sliding windows.<br />
Summer air.<br />
Rough concrete underneath and smoke curling to the sky.<br />
"This place is kind of depressing, no offense."<br />
I nod.<br />
It is.<br />
And I wonder, is this what empty feels like, from the other side?<br />
<br />
<div>
It was finally the day. </div>
<div>
The day that I hung my head and arm out the car window,<br />
Dissolving into air, beauty, and infinity.<br />
It was hour three of the trip,<br />
The mushrooms leaving my neurons awake and a light of dry, crackling existentialism.<br />
<i>"Can you see it? The worst is over."</i><br />
We had driven to the ends of the city and back with a soft glowing cigarette between our fingers.<br />
Music pumping and throbbing through blasted speakers.<br />
<i>"The monsters in my head are scared of love."</i><br />
I'm so happy...<br />
<i>"Fallen people listen up! It's never too late to change our luck."</i><br />
My friend grabbed my hand and squeezed and smiled at the power lines wizzing by.<br />
My other hand softly moving my bangs from my face, also smiling softly.<br />
I could see myself in my apartment, sad and chained to the expectations of someone that didn't love me.<br />
Then casually closing turning a page with the scene displayed until I could no longer envision it.<br />
No more use for it.<br />
<i>"So don't let them steal you light."</i><br />
<i>"Don't let them break your stride."</i><br />
I pitied him then, for the cruel things he said, for the things he needed to do because he hurt inside and so hurt others.<br />
<i>"There's a light on the other side, raindrops falling behind."</i><br />
Lighting another cigarette I sunk lower in the passenger seat, alive with the knowledge that I loved and was loved<br />
Even if some of the other things hurt with a dull, invasive ache,<br />
This was the most beautiful moment.<br />
<i>"It's a revolution."</i></div>
</div>
<div>
<i><br /></i></div>
Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14696430167877128240noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8780280443552838331.post-4375453375209768432015-06-17T01:38:00.001-07:002015-06-17T01:42:32.442-07:00... It was a little brick building<br />
With an overhanging tree that never had any leaves in my recollections. <br />
Clouds overcast, windows projecting vacancy<br />
By the stained glass fogginess.<br />
I don't remember the evening they did an exorcism,<br />
But I see myself in my dress and frilly white socks, coloring on the floor,<br />
Sheltered between two pews. <br />
"Mommy, why does Delores want to kill everybody?" I asked her. <br />
I can see the spine shivers she gets when I ask her about that story,<br />
The otherworldly voice<br />
And the six men it took to hold her down.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
... </div>
<br />
My name in green marker,<br />
The outside edges bleeding slightly,<br />
Like the soft, fuzzing memories of childhood<br />
My stretched hide tambourine clutched by tiny hands.<br />
Tiny eyes looking up at the dim ceiling of the Sunday school room.<br />
<i>"The cabinets are so high." </i><br />
I thought as he asked me to do something my tiny understanding could not comprehend.<br />
"No. "<br />
<i>This is wrong. </i><br />
<i>I have to get away. </i><br />
"Where is mommy?"<br />
Some memories are not that fuzzy<br />
And the bathroom door hung open,<br />
Pale window beckoning.<br />
But it was so dark...<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
.......... </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
"Sometimes I feel crazy."<br />
"You keep saying that so I want you to write down what crazy means to you."<br />
Her leg causually crossed under a tie dye skirt.<br />
Mine hanging over the couch side.<br />
Her office was softly lit, inviting<br />
With stones you find at hippie stores<br />
And lots of plants.<br />
I felt like I was wasting her time.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
... </div>
<br />
"You haven't changed. It's been two years and you're not any more confident than you were when I met you."<br />
"Yes I am! You just can't see it because my thinking is different! I don't worry about things as much as I used to."<br />
"Are you still jealous?"<br />
"Everyone gets jealous about things."<br />
"You're deflecting. And you haven't changed."<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
.......... </div>
<br />
"Good morning! How are you three today?"<br />
Looking up between them to see quickly pasted smiles on rigid frames.<br />
"Fine! How are you?"<br />
Handshakes and hugs.<br />
"Mom and dad fought the whole way here."<br />
I volunteered.<br />
Looking away from laser glares.<br />
Amused laughter following us as we walked back to the children's Sunday school room<br />
<br />
The jello was a beautiful turquoise with gummy fish suspended in a Noah reenactment.<br />
Mom bent over each of us to add the whip cream.<br />
Sea foam,<br />
Or something.<br />
Mostly I think she knew what we liked.<br />
"Do you have to be perfect for God to love you?" she questioned our little class.<br />
"No!" we all shouted in unison, giggling and diving into the tumultuous sea.<br />
I think I turned to see her eyes brimming with tears,<br />
But memories are fuzzy.Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14696430167877128240noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8780280443552838331.post-61545625968101443572015-04-26T00:14:00.003-07:002015-04-26T00:14:56.279-07:00Dandelions<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/QwqfUZOx7cU/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/QwqfUZOx7cU?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
When you're a kid </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And the spring sun lays its gentle rays </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
On your tensile strands</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
They always tell you to make a wish.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
On stars</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
On a time</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And dandelions.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I grabbed a whole handful tonight</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Blowing hard</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Anguish constricting my heart</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Wishing desperately </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
That you were mine again.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14696430167877128240noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8780280443552838331.post-29506476633159967852015-01-30T13:54:00.000-08:002015-01-30T13:54:54.656-08:00Turmoil<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUIlovDGwk8x2VtP4Gdjhyphenhyphen3l-vQrbv9Oa1Pn7-3q5tj9uEIRYdOGIxNvdhAIjYQVCQavWuGCO-zDvsLdm5Ds_sjb7-3yf5l4iP8jiCAn52f-SFgJXkdtH7NYqAck_wJXRJ0TuryXyxawTw/s1600/35643eaedde3745d2e91956cc25a743d.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUIlovDGwk8x2VtP4Gdjhyphenhyphen3l-vQrbv9Oa1Pn7-3q5tj9uEIRYdOGIxNvdhAIjYQVCQavWuGCO-zDvsLdm5Ds_sjb7-3yf5l4iP8jiCAn52f-SFgJXkdtH7NYqAck_wJXRJ0TuryXyxawTw/s1600/35643eaedde3745d2e91956cc25a743d.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“I want to talk to you! I’m sorry I interrupted!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Hand to the doorknob and twist without a budge. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sigh and look at the soft light of the street lamps peer
through the gaps in the living room blinds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The knob twists under my fingers and the door opens
suddenly, his figure emerging in a rush, arm sliding easily around my neck <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Pushing me into the room, turn, let me down, then abruptly
rough drop to the floor<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Arms pushed above my head<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">His face is so close that I can see his facial hair, up to
the glowing white skin, to his dark brows and brown hair falling over his eyes<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“You stupid fucker!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Don’t call me names!” I try to firm my resolve, left leg
shaking.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Shut up you stupid fucking cunt!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It was hard to hear what he said then because I was oddly
aware of the way the carpet felt rough on my lower back where my shirt was
pushed up <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And the mist of saliva as more words ripped out. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">My lips and eyes scrunched up as two fat tears ran down the
sides of my face and I began to cry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Why are you crying!? Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“No…It hurt my neck a little bit…I was just scared…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">More tears.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“You are so mentally weak!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Continues on saying something that I vaguely know hurts.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Did I hurt you?” he asks again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">His breath is warm; I don’t know why this surprises me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Stern features looking down at my tear stained ones demand a
technical answer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Quiet inhale, face turning to stone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“No.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“What?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“No. I’m not hurt.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The
hot sticky feeling and the throbbing in my nose makes me think that somewhere
in all this my nose ring bumped into the bottom of my nose.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">There was a end to the argument, which was forgotten the next day. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Fingers that kept smudging black mascara tears as I recalled the things he said, that I hovered and was a burden, making him miserable, a coward, that I tried to change him and thought I was better than I was...</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">"Something wrong?" he asks when I get home.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 12pt;">Quick smile, "No, I'm just tired. Long day of school." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 12pt;">Things smooth again, </span><br />
Thoughts bouncing in my head, "I'm so ashamed of how I've behaved..."<br />
"I shouldn't have been such a child..."<br />
"He gets it more than I do..."<br />
<br />
I'm not hurt, but it still makes me alternate between tears and chastising myself.<br />
Self-doubt.<br />
Questions.<br />
But I love him...<br />
How?<br />
Shame.<br />
<br />
And then<br />
<br />
I can't believe this happened to me....<br />
Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14696430167877128240noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8780280443552838331.post-18303868292480706842014-12-07T19:03:00.000-08:002014-12-07T19:03:35.076-08:00Happy?You ever get the idea that you're not living your life?<br />
I mean, really living your life?<br />
Get up, go to work, go to school, cook dinner, kiss your significant other, turn on the radio in your car and sing along like it's the best thing and you tell yourself that you're happy.<br />
Why?<br />
Because you're not in Somalia or homeless or anything else to give you the indication that you're not happy.<br />
But.<br />
But you're not.<br />
The alarm rings to single the onset of a very important day, the things you do that matter and contribute and make you fell fulfilled.<br />
Does it though?<br />
<br />
This is me.<br />
I get up every day, sometimes sleeping longer than I should.<br />
I promise more of myself from my studies than I can follow through with,<br />
I live in an apartment with my boyfriend.<br />
I go to the gym and text/call my friends to see how they are and when the moments come, as they always do, when I am sitting quietly alone, I tell myself I'm happy.<br />
Why?<br />
Because I'm not in Somalia or homeless and there's no other indication that I'm not happy.<br />
<br />
But there is....<br />
<br />
You ever just watch people, really watch them, and see how noisy and fleeting and on the surface it all can be?<br />
I clean my apartment and do the laundry and as I fold his clothes I think how I care about him and it's nice to search for the stupid missing socks and clean the kitchen and do all this stuff because I'm happy.<br />
I move forward because that's the direction you're supposed to go.<br />
I change the things I don't think I need to because I'm happy.<br />
I talk about things that aren't what is really bothering me because I can't keep bothering my friends with these worries that play on repeat.<br />
Because I'm happy.<br />
<br />
At 8:42 on Sunday night I sat on the floor in front of the coffee table with my clay project I was finishing up with paint, a Netflix movie on and every light in the place on because I decided to stop what I was doing to paint.<br />
I thought about all the stuff that creeps up when the world is quieter and it's just you there.<br />
While I don't know for sure what else I would be doing, I do know that my friend is right:<br />
Life is too short to be so miserable. Especially at so young of an age.<br />
I've been wasting time worrying if I'm good enough, interesting or smart enough and painfully comparing myself to everyone else.<br />
But I'm happy.<br />
<br />
No. I'm not happy.<br />
I just want that on record.<br />
I am not happy.<br />
<br />
I am in a mediocre to shitty relationship that is handy for him and leaves me questioning daily if I'm worthy enough or not and if he truly cares or not.<br />
I don't want to work so much while I'm in graduate school.<br />
I can't see myself as a professional in training as part of my identity yet.<br />
I don't like keeping up on the cleaning and the laundry.<br />
I always have these grand ideas for a writing or painting/ceramics/drawing ideas and my skill doesn't align with that idea.<br />
I want to just pick up and travel and now that I have the opportunity to go to Guatemala for eight weeks this summer, I stupidly question whether or not I should because maybe if I go home with him this summer like he talked about, while he goes to Japan for three weeks telling me he doesn't want me to go with, maybe he'll decide he loves me for real.<br />
I doubt my professional skills at times.<br />
I get upset when my brownies don't turn out just so.<br />
I hate some of the things people do but I don't say anything because I'm pretending to be happy.<br />
Void of feeling too much and playing cool just in case.<br />
<br />
I'm sick of fucking walking around like nothing anyone does bothers me and I'm okay with it, that I'll just try a little harder or care a little less or turn a blind eye to things.<br />
That's wrong!<br />
That's all wrong and not how things should be!<br />
I'm 24 in 4 days.<br />
It can't be another year of just continuing on the cycle until eventually the people I put more effort into than they do me eventually decide it's not worth it.<br />
<br />
Maybe it's almost the breakthrough point.<br />
Like maybe this is the climax when I finally decide to live for myself and not other people.<br />
Or maybe it's just some post that comes from left field that doesn't matter.<br />
It matters to me though, getting all of it out of my head, hoping other people think about this stuff too.<br />
We're all putting ourselves aside or putting ourselves too far ahead and it's not right.<br />
There's probably not any wisdom in this but I think it matters because we've all got to live with ourselves forever, that's what she said to me.<br />
When I'm sitting alone on my living room floor painting and thinking, in that moment that's it.<br />
There's no show, no impressing to be done or sucking up or being the most aloof.<br />
I'm just afraid that it's too easy for all of us as people to get so distanced from who we are trying to chase a collective idea of happy, excusing what our own definitions are, being hurt or hurting to have this idea, and then when we're alone at night we don't even know who we are.<br />
I don't.<br />
I have a general idea but I don't always feel confident enough to go with it.<br />
<br />
So, I don't know, just a thought.<br />Are you happy, truly, when you're sitting alone at home and can you be that person all the time?<br />
If so, you got there somehow and I think it's important to know.<br />
<br />
<br />Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14696430167877128240noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8780280443552838331.post-48746217843568823892014-11-23T15:00:00.001-08:002014-11-23T15:00:26.871-08:00Today<div style="text-align: center;">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQUUNfiX3PXzH4931kC4To4i2qIHD1110ijLAE3vUu9c1PN3VZ8u8laDjl2By-zabpR-eih0isqRyJNHnF1zxZLHSkdTkvIrQUvdKWI_MtGwxmQSzUNbWI6jAJgK3jpOXtCMTZ3Gy4chZY/s1600/image001-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQUUNfiX3PXzH4931kC4To4i2qIHD1110ijLAE3vUu9c1PN3VZ8u8laDjl2By-zabpR-eih0isqRyJNHnF1zxZLHSkdTkvIrQUvdKWI_MtGwxmQSzUNbWI6jAJgK3jpOXtCMTZ3Gy4chZY/s1600/image001-1.jpg" height="260" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"Guilt is like a ton of bricks: it's only heavy if you hold on to it." He told me.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"I'm going to dump her, I just don't know when." He told her.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"I'm ready, I really need to get in for an appointment." I told the therapist.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"You have to do better." I told myself. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"I'm sorry." I told my friends.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"I don't know if we're just holding onto it. I still have feelings for you." He said.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"Pray for me." I asked my mom.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"Please.... Help me." I asked God.</div>
Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14696430167877128240noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8780280443552838331.post-20857726016952188832014-11-18T12:26:00.002-08:002014-11-18T12:26:33.205-08:00....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3ClygU2YLMOsBqo4Y51MBSIcsdUBgVtnyqYK1AJ0djJdrnZZ9ycluo0vzMZI1LATzT1t4gK2yR8rfba0ZlxhtznuLURXh0Fr4TE4njw5qqHpB_KQfXeSAKKll5Pv9l2JvwwSHlCjm-IFO/s1600/tumblr_n6xrtraKJq1sdmxkpo3_400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3ClygU2YLMOsBqo4Y51MBSIcsdUBgVtnyqYK1AJ0djJdrnZZ9ycluo0vzMZI1LATzT1t4gK2yR8rfba0ZlxhtznuLURXh0Fr4TE4njw5qqHpB_KQfXeSAKKll5Pv9l2JvwwSHlCjm-IFO/s1600/tumblr_n6xrtraKJq1sdmxkpo3_400.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Things were oddly peculiar,</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Key in the lock-</div>
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Half turned to open or to trap the scream. </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
She left nothing of the former life-</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Only shoes and tattered bedspread things</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Where her dreams tore their fingers</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
Searching the mended mother holes</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Keep quiet. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
You'll wake the neighbors with the</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Sound of your beat less hearts </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
But it may get lost in the sonic </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Noise of bustling aspirations</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
The car has been warmed up </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
For some time but</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
It was never easy to go</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Ego.</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14696430167877128240noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8780280443552838331.post-77928434919491294802014-11-05T00:22:00.000-08:002014-11-05T00:23:56.450-08:00SandmanShe stole his bag to pour more sand in her eyes<br />
Leveling the debt<br />
Seeking sleep<br />
And dreams<br />
<br />
Turn the timer over<br />
Lashes thick<br />
And heavy<br />
To tick<br />
Tick<br />
Tick<br />
Away the happy lies of the day<br />
<br />
"Sand man, sand man, where are you?<br />
My lips are puckered blood red<br />
Just let me say<br />
'How do you do?"<br />
<br />
Silent creeks of evening willow winds<br />
No surprise<br />
She closed her eyes<br />
And came up dead.Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14696430167877128240noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8780280443552838331.post-72481117810218600632014-10-25T23:28:00.000-07:002014-10-25T23:28:08.182-07:00Average"You don't care about human suffering. You care about it because it makes you sad, but you're not doing anything to help it."<br />
"When I see it I try to..."<br />
"Yah, because it makes you sad."<br />
<br />
The way he refuted my words broke my heart.<br />
Almost more than anything he'd done to me, that was what hurt the most.<br />
Believing I didn't have a light inside.<br />
So dead and careless like the rest of the world....<br />
<br />
I could feel the tears well up in my eyes time and time again as we watched the new movie Fury.<br />
I felt the frenzied blinking, holding back the dam as I imagined the trauma and dehumanization people in war face.<br />
Never would I ever experience and understand fully what those in the military see and feel.<br />
And I'm grateful for them.<br />
<br />
Handing the man my bag of gas station chips when he asked for money to buy a meal didn't make me a saint.<br />
In fact, I wish I would have had more time to buy him something from the fast food place by the gas station but I didn't have any cash and I was going to be late for school.<br />
But I didn't hesitate.<br />
It didn't just make me sad, it made me worried that he wouldn't have anything to eat if I didn't give it to him.<br />
When the homeless man asked me for change to buy a bus ticket I gave him all the ones I had and asked him his name because he has one.<br />
He fucking has a name and a past and a future.<br />
He has a name.<br />
Shaking my hand, gentle grip, that smile someone gets when they're treated with kindness for the first time in God knows how long.<br />
I don't do these things so that I can sleep better at night and I don't try to alleviate my sadness of seeing someone suffer.<br />
I try to alleviate it because it fucking breaks my heart to see someone hurting.<br />
I don't want them to be cold, hungry, hurting, lost or alone.<br />
<br />
You know why this whole thing mattered?<br />
It mattered because someone once held me when I cried about being unable to help someone and he was touched.<br />
He couldn't believe that I had a heart that never faltered for anyone.<br />
Despite my own struggles and the terribleness of the world, I still believe in the beauty.<br />
And he found me beautiful....<br />
<br />
Then I could feel the selfish tears coming because he didn't see me as beautiful.<br />
He doesn't see the warmth I try to give and suddenly I was ordinary.<br />
Flip flopping between believing I deserved to have someone believe I was extraordinary and someone seeing me as simply human.<br />
By why not both?<br />
It matters that the person I love doesn't see it. <br />He doesn't see or believe that inside I try to purge any selfish, mean, shallow, or judgmental characteristic and try to be kind, warm, and empathetic.<br />
He doesn't see me trying to be a truly beautiful person.<br />
He sees me as average.<br />
<br />
I hate to admit how much that fact keeps me up at night.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14696430167877128240noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8780280443552838331.post-55604021864796585952014-10-23T23:40:00.000-07:002014-10-23T23:40:39.449-07:00....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIORXjS8BkEGf89GbVkE_SWm76cnG-eeETmkV0hZxCkLr2dmHJ0CZIEUGnNyRz6pXGYkYYvF25OwQSDR0AglqFkaoPVLt2VtJnHUmQd4WN_Z13ofIBHCzTPGPx0SIy4aCThtMYEoPt8i1N/s1600/f082d3901bfc951b8b1160b9a3420664.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIORXjS8BkEGf89GbVkE_SWm76cnG-eeETmkV0hZxCkLr2dmHJ0CZIEUGnNyRz6pXGYkYYvF25OwQSDR0AglqFkaoPVLt2VtJnHUmQd4WN_Z13ofIBHCzTPGPx0SIy4aCThtMYEoPt8i1N/s1600/f082d3901bfc951b8b1160b9a3420664.jpg" height="400" width="181" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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I felt the shift ever so slightly</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
By the way there was no comfort in</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
My sheets </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And blankets. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Toes crinkling the air </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Then shooting out for escape</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I am trapped...</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Trapped in a world of what if's and lies</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Fancy, collectible pieces of mind</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Peace of mind</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Wasted time</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Suddenly your skin felt so stifling</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
There was too much of you saturating</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Every pour-</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Essence</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Being</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
You kill me</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Like no one can....</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And I can't</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I can't...</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Your skin is stifling</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I can't breath. </div>
Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14696430167877128240noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8780280443552838331.post-62028041431751311322014-10-16T13:17:00.001-07:002014-10-16T13:21:00.475-07:00Mess<div dir="ltr">
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<br />
<br />
You're something like a mess </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Resonating with a lie </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And you'll probably let it fade </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Out of mind<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I need some place for these vacant notions</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Altruistic abandon <br />
Hollow devotions</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<div style="text-align: center;">
You're a bitter thing</div>
</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<div style="text-align: center;">
Skin hangs off bone</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Turn to stone </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Now</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
You are alone</div>
</div>
Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14696430167877128240noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8780280443552838331.post-11375823050657744022014-09-17T13:46:00.000-07:002014-09-17T13:57:39.911-07:00Fields"That field is already harvested. How did I not notice that? Or did they just do it?"<br />
I felt the familiar distraught panic I developed every fall with the ending of September.<br />
Mourning summer like an old friend.<br />
It was as though over night the lush green corn fields turned to dry yellows, sporadic like a tie dye shirt, overtaking it like a disease. <br />
You wake up one morning and have to go back into the house for a jacket and cringe as yet another girl gives an ode to fall by expressing her love of scarves, crisp air, and pumpkin spice lattes.<br />
Sometimes I think people don't even know what existing really is but they say they're doing it. <br />
I know I do. <br />
Where does time go?<br />
I'm transported to the image of me coming up over the few hills to my house, the light soft and the sun going down. <br />
It's so lonely but God, it's so beautiful.<br />
My horse is munching the last grasses of the summer in his pasture, tail swinging half heartedly back and forth.<br />
I don't know where my dad buried him, it's been that long since I've been home.<br />
The chickens are picking at the ground, searching for goodies in the grass, scratching at the ground when they find something, talking back and forth to one another in their own way.<br />
My cat is walking down the driveway and slowly dips to the ground to roll on her back.<br />
My dog sniffing around for something only he knows what.<br />
The calves are no longer babies and are beginning to eat hay and corn.<br />
Their cries go on for days when we wean then from their mothers. <br />
It occurred to me that they're like people to the extent that things seem so bad at first . We cry, get angry, kick up a storm, and days later we are back to being okay, back to the places and things that make us feel comfortable.<br />
Not right away, but someday.<br />
I miss the farm.<br />
I know I can't go back but there are moments I'm transported by nostalgia to when life was a little bit slower. <br />
Authentic living is how I reflect on it now. <br />
The place I first learned lessons in a simplified and yet complex manner. <br />
I learned about anger when a coyote would eat my favorite chicken. <br />
Justice when I protected one of the ostracized animals and made them safe spaces in their pens. <br />
Joy when a new life came into the world, from the time their beaks poked through the shell to thriving and reaching adulthood,<br />
Or rubbing my eyes and looking out the window and seeing a fresh, shiny black calf sticking close to its mother on wobbly legs<br />
Triumph when I stayed on my horse the next time he tried to buck me off.<br />
Sorrow as I held many of my beloved pets as they died.<br />
Loyalty as I cared for the sick and injured.<br />
Duty and respect when caring for an animal until it reached the age where it would be used for food.<br />
Gratitude when eating one. <br />
The lessons were so simple but so profound.<br />
I didn't live at home for the first summer in my life and I felt like time just flew.<br />
I didn't feel fully adequate in fulfilling my newly established adult role in the world. <br />
They say it's the best time, your 20's, because you're the best physically you ever will be, you're not married and you don't have kids to hold you down. <br />
Somehow it felt a lot like simply existing <br />
Holding a place in time. <br />
There was no richness to make it vibrant. <br />
After recovery and graduation from my undergrad I felt some estrangement from the person I was. <br />
A muted need to become intimately acquainted with myself and the person I am instead of rejecting it for once. <br />
Suddenly I woke up and realized that I would have a professional career and can't waste time with people who care little for me and I them. <br />
I want to call it an apathetic frenzy because that's what it is.<br />
Nothing bad, nothing good, everything normal. <br />
It's something, I just don't know what yet. <br />
All I know is that I don't want to wake up one day and realize I yellowed and withered like the fields.Evehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14696430167877128240noreply@blogger.com5