Life Goes Fast

One of my high school friends died yesterday. Isn't it weird how death of anyone in your stratosphere, even people you're not extremely close to, shakes you up and makes you see the world differently? You never know quite how to react. There are, of course, the stages of grief and denial always comes first. How do you wrap your head around something like that? How do you reconcile with the idea that someone who was real and concrete has disappeared forever, that they will never grow or become, that they have ceased existing? And someday you will be gone forever and nothing will be left of you but memory. It's mortality slapping you in the face and it's hard. No matter how much violence is on tv, no matter how much we believe in the immortality of spirit, we are never quite prepared for it when it happens. Death makes things awkward, too. What do you say? A cliche, no matter how sincere, still rings hollow. You never how bad you should feel, how sad is too sad. Your sadness does nothing to help anything, but you can't just go on as if nothing happened. Also, I for one almost feel guilty mourning someone I didn't know well because I feel like the grief belongs to their family and best friends so much more. Maybe I'm just appreciating this person because they're gone and it's appropriate, because death makes someone famous and more precious. People don't speak ill of the dead because the dead become glorified and preserved, become somehow unreal as they are memorialized. But I mourn nonetheless, the loss of potential the most. What could have been? It's not fair. But death is never fair. Youth and goodness and innocence are harder to lose, especially without warning, but does anyone ever want or deserve to die? It's just as tragic when someone dies forgotten and their dying makes no difference. Regardless, all I know is that today I am sad because this person was kind and made me laugh, because I love the people who will miss him most and because I know it could just as easily happen to anyone. Maybe I should have gotten to know him better and maybe there's no real reason for me to be sad other than because of how senseless and shocking this is, but regardless, I will remember him today and hope that when I die I too will be missed.

Rest in peace Eric. You were loved and you'll be missed.

To do or not to do, to be or not to be.

What's with that feeling, when you're supposed to make a wish but you don't know what for, when you make it to the top or the end or whathaveyou and you don't know what to make of it, when you get what you wanted but it's not at all what it seemed? It's stupid really, not nice, but I guess it's rather important. It's at that moment when you pause, wonder, question. That emptiness you feel, it spurs you to stop, which is always something we forget and often loath to do. Time is money. Busy-ness is next to godliness. All those daft and wicked beliefs we hold to distract ourselves make it seem like we're living and working for something when really we're just living and working. That something we're striving to gain, whether it be money, love, meaning, beauty, success--it's all a sham. I don't know who put it in place, who thinks they benefit from this, but we are being robbed of our chance for joy with every day we spend wishing and trying to be productive. I am tired, in so many ways, of worrying and making things happen. Life is not for doing, but for being: being helpless, being surprised, being grateful, being devastated. Sure we do things, many things, but not because we have to, not because we are measured by them. I have aspirations, and I have very strong wants and fears that govern my thoughts and actions, but I am not the want or the fear or the results. I just am, and I'm trying to let it be as best I can.

:(

Some days I’m not afraid of being defective. Some days I’m afraid of not having scars, of being safe and trapped and boring. I know I am not cool and I will never succeed in becoming cool because for some reason coolness is a characteristic of the other and I am too familiar to myself to be interesting, but I think that I wish I were cool because I admire cool people so much and that just makes me even less cool than before. I feel like I am too lucky, that I have lived a life with few bumps and as a result I am formless, I am evanescent and uninteresting. I am certainly grateful for everything I’ve been blessed with, but I can’t help but wish I were grittier, more damaged. Maybe it’s because when I feel inexplicably sad it is so inexplicable as to be inconsequential. Who cares if you cry if there is no reason for you to cry? It’s worthless suffering, the kind of thing people wallow in and demand pills for. The kind people get easily annoyed with. The kind that doesn’t get fixed because nothing bad has really happened and maybe you’re only miserable because your life is so empty that there’s nothing really painful there and that is the saddest thing. That breaks my heart. That is what is bringing me down now. I guess sadness is better than nothing, than days of sitting on the couch absorbing other people’s stories and being numb. Let’s put it this way: life is feeling. If you don’t feel anything or don’t have any real reason for feeling anything, what’s the fucking point? Why have skin and a heart if you’re not going to utilize them? I want to feel alive today and instead I feel demolished and hopeless. I want to have a goddamn reason for my fear and anger and apathy because if not, I will begin to turn on myself and hate myself for my weakness.

Waiting

Story of my life: all dressed up and nowhere to go. I’m always expecting something that never happens, waiting and wondering what’s wrong with me. What IS wrong with me? Why is there so much stubborn, stupid hope fighting inside me and sabotaging my happiness? But I guess the expectation keeps me alive sometimes, holds me up when all my heart can do is fall. Because if I didn’t anticipate being seen and appreciated by somebody, I think I would cease being, fade into oblivion, fade like mist in the sunlight.

Holding on Like It's All I Have

Sadness. It weighs so heavy and yet you're not there. The edges are blurred; you have been erased. Perfect sadness is a delicate balance of blame, honing your suffering into a masterpiece. There is a certain amount of fault that is yours and a portion for others. Just enough of each so you can wallow both in self-loathing and self-pity. It is beautiful and deep. You can get lost. Except, you're trying to survive for some reason, passing as normal. Thus, you must cope instead. Coping hurts a little more, but it gives you dignity. You learn when the waves and stinging come to cup sadness neatly in the palm of your hand. That way you keep it close, but hidden. That way you can manage. Sometimes there are heart attacks. It feels like a knife is being twisted inside. Like nothing can breathe. I don't understand why, but it happens. Deal. When it happens, I stand perfectly still. In this state of inexplicable, unexplainable sorrow, joy sounds like the spinning, shrieking laughter in a nightmare from a movie. Mocking, dreadful. You pity happy people. They're distracting, fooling themselves. No one can keep it up forever. Everyone falls victim sometimes. We're all alone together. That's comforting, at least. That's all sadness is, a comfort. An easy way out. A choice.



But sometimes all you can do is drown.

Set Your World on Fire

O my. I am filled with…longing. A sacred, vital, earth-shattering longing. I feel so ready for something. I want to make a connection, I want to pour some of my soul into someone. I want to live like it's all or nothing, wildly and surely. I want to give and take. I want to have such energetic love for life that I am completely full and empty and heart-broken. I want to make everything spontaneous and quirky and beautiful. I can't even express this in words. I wonder if I could ever dance it, paint it, sing it, act it. All I can do is compose it, write it, say it. Words aren't enough and I can never give them at the right time, to the right people. I feel like no one knows how I feel, truly. I am a dreamy, shy girl to them, awkward and uptight and maybe a little intimidating or haughty. If only I could give them my eyes, my heart. I think you'd be surprised. Now that would be art. My self and experiences literally on display. I feel so much for so many, and they do not know it. I laugh, I watch, I cry, I share and yet feel all alone. It surprises me how much love has to do with transparency, truth. Everyone puts on a face, tones it down, tries so hard. And they're all dying. Get busy living or get busy dying, they say. It's the simple things that make your heart burn. I get so excited for monumental moments and they always let me down, but when I least expect it I am so touched I could melt. May I feel everything, every day til I die. May I expect nothing and find it anyway. May I touch and spread and never ever forget how much everybody needs someone to care about them. May I do and play and not worry. May I be vital and happy, and may everyone find their happiness, too.

Wanted

A boy. He is tall, skinny but strong in all the right places. Dark hair, curly or wavy. Deft, slim fingers. Chuck sneakers are a must. An adorable smile, one that has a way of making people (i.e. me) do stupid things. Irrepressible sense of humor.
Deep, deep eyes that hold mirth and sadness and love. Quick to smile, easy laughter. Make that easy everything. Lips that distract and demand kissing. Perceptive. Tender. Happy-go-lucky and fun. Calm, but has a restless soul like me. Must be open with me and direct. Not afraid of taking what he wants. Enjoys the simple things and not overly ambitious. Dorky and suave at the same time. I want to be able to take care of him sometimes but I want to feel safe in his arms. Spontaneous and creative and silly and thoughtful. Mischievous. Can defuse my worrying and bring out my happiest, most Zen self. Thinks everything I do is fantastic. Clever, bold. Likes surprises and presents. Kind to children and old people. Takes me on adventures and makes big romantic gestures. Has the magical ability to make me feel beautiful around him, always. Comfortable with me and understands without anyone having to say a word. Able to bring me new joy everyday. Loyal and willing to help me grow.


If you find the person fitting this description, please
contact me immediately.