I just don't find certain things or people interesting anymore. I thought this was a phase, but the phase has gone on for two months now. To me, that's not a phase. Certain things I was interested in, certain people, I just don't give a flying patooey about anymore. I sometimes wonder why but then I think, "ya know, I'm moving forward and that's just not a part of me anymore." And I'm quite okay with this.
I am a deep believer in moving forward and change. Change for good. Change for the positive. And moving forward with life, taking on new interests and hobbies, but retaining those qualities and behaviors that make you interesting. When I see people who are the same way they were 5 years ago - yuck. I want to say, "um, you know you are predictable, right?" I feel like a snot for thinking that but it's just how my thought process flows. Interests come and go - and this particular interest has clearly fled from my body. Which I am okay with because I have filled up that space with other interests. And the people? Well the people involved in that interest, who were somehow linked to it, I have kind of let them go as well - to an extent. I don't burn bridges - but I clearly have no interest. I don't like to read their blogs anymore because they are predictable. Its the same thing I have been reading for many years. And thats just not worth my time. Did I mention the predictable factor? Overrated. You know if something goes bad - you can predict what they will say or write. It's bizarre.
So maybe I'm a particular snot. Hahaha. But at least I'm unique and willing to move forward with my life - regardless of the hardships. Oh, and that thing that is still in my head that I can't get rid of? It's still there. Its annoying. I truly wish that it would go away because it really fucks around with other shit in my life. Annoying.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Friday, October 26, 2007
Again, I think I broke It
If I knew you read this, I probably wouldn't write. But seeing as how you don't care, I can safely assume you do not read. Why do I bother to let you slither into my life? This I cannot answer. But apparently it's incredibly difficult to pull you out of my head. And I know you want out, and I want you out too. I'm doing the best I can. I'm moving through each day thinking less of you and less of that life. But sometimes I read something, I hear something, I feel something, and I fall to my knees and cry. It's clear to me I am just a silly fool who fell for the spell. It's clear to me that I'm in the shadows and will forever remain in this location. It's clear to me that though your character and qualities are what I strive to find, I am nothing more to you than a pretty face and a pretty girl.
Why do I cry for you? Why do I shed precious tears because of you? When you are done playing your game and feel like you want me out of the shadows, you know what you need to do and where to find me. For now, I need to say goodbye. I'm too involved in something that gives me nothing. And I deserve something, a lot more than nothing. Take pride in knowing that I will always feel for you and hold a space for you, but I cannot keep up this pace. It's ridiculous. If you are ready and you can catch me, maybe. Good luck.
Why do I cry for you? Why do I shed precious tears because of you? When you are done playing your game and feel like you want me out of the shadows, you know what you need to do and where to find me. For now, I need to say goodbye. I'm too involved in something that gives me nothing. And I deserve something, a lot more than nothing. Take pride in knowing that I will always feel for you and hold a space for you, but I cannot keep up this pace. It's ridiculous. If you are ready and you can catch me, maybe. Good luck.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
In the Shadows
Boy, get me through these days
I will fight to get you through the nights,
I will send you my thoughts,
If you send me your care.
Falling to my knees, I simply pray,
The tears fall from my eyes
Forming pools on the ground,
I pray that it all ends
And that it ends well.
I fight each day not to show my pain,
I fight each day to hide so much away,
I cannot unveil that which I feel
For I know it will only hurt me.
But as I walk in the shadows,
As I linger behind the scenes,
I still fight for you,
I still think about you, daily,
I write and dream and sing,
Praying that it all ends well.
Just get me through the days,
And I will get you through the nights,
Even if I continue in the shadows,
I will always fight,
For you.
I will fight to get you through the nights,
I will send you my thoughts,
If you send me your care.
Falling to my knees, I simply pray,
The tears fall from my eyes
Forming pools on the ground,
I pray that it all ends
And that it ends well.
I fight each day not to show my pain,
I fight each day to hide so much away,
I cannot unveil that which I feel
For I know it will only hurt me.
But as I walk in the shadows,
As I linger behind the scenes,
I still fight for you,
I still think about you, daily,
I write and dream and sing,
Praying that it all ends well.
Just get me through the days,
And I will get you through the nights,
Even if I continue in the shadows,
I will always fight,
For you.
Lost
August 03, 2007:
I sit here and close my eyes, shaking my head and thinking "damn I'm a fool." I cannot fathom a reason or decipher an explanation, it's just the reality of the situation. I got sucked in too far and now I'm paying the price. If only I had known that it would go this way - if only I knew you were a game, nothing more. Trying to drown my thoughts with words and music, and nothing seems to block the nonsensical movements in my head. Pathetic and pointless - yet swimming in my head with such fury. I know they are mine - the pain, the ache, the foolishness - it's all my doing. I can't seem to stop the behavior. It lingers in my mind as something to be removed, and when I feel like I'm ready to put it in the garbage, it bites me in the ass. And when it does... I'm left standing in my own pool of doubt. If I try to be cautious, I feel I'm being too safe. If I try to be adventurous, I feel like I'm losing control. I wish I could find the middle ground, win my world, and quit spinning in circles. If only a touch could stop the confusion, a kiss to hinder the blow.... but the fall hurts more even if you are caught. I wish it weren't so...
I sit here and close my eyes, shaking my head and thinking "damn I'm a fool." I cannot fathom a reason or decipher an explanation, it's just the reality of the situation. I got sucked in too far and now I'm paying the price. If only I had known that it would go this way - if only I knew you were a game, nothing more. Trying to drown my thoughts with words and music, and nothing seems to block the nonsensical movements in my head. Pathetic and pointless - yet swimming in my head with such fury. I know they are mine - the pain, the ache, the foolishness - it's all my doing. I can't seem to stop the behavior. It lingers in my mind as something to be removed, and when I feel like I'm ready to put it in the garbage, it bites me in the ass. And when it does... I'm left standing in my own pool of doubt. If I try to be cautious, I feel I'm being too safe. If I try to be adventurous, I feel like I'm losing control. I wish I could find the middle ground, win my world, and quit spinning in circles. If only a touch could stop the confusion, a kiss to hinder the blow.... but the fall hurts more even if you are caught. I wish it weren't so...
Till Forever
August 10, 2007:
I sense from the look in your eyes that you are not as strong as you physically appear. Looking deep I can see your weakness and your desire to be more than you can handle. I should know better than to lay with a creature such as yourself. I should know better than to mingle with a mind who cannot stand with poise. Its intellect I hunger, its superficial nonsense that you provide. Once I thought I could wait, once I thought you were the goal, but now I realize you are nothing more than an insecure object. You've caused my mind to wander and you have wasted my time. You are a fragile soul and I wish I had the strength to make you see - but your eyes will never be that wide open. You will never see me as an intellectual equal, even though that is what I wish we could be. The strengths you had to tug on my heart have faded. If I look into your eyes again, I know what I will see. I will see you watching me walk away. I will see myself with a better creature, stronger, pure, whole-heartedly honest and more my equal. You will only know that your glimmer of hope closed, just as you closed the door when you had the chance.
'Till forever, you'll wonder if you get another chance...
I sense from the look in your eyes that you are not as strong as you physically appear. Looking deep I can see your weakness and your desire to be more than you can handle. I should know better than to lay with a creature such as yourself. I should know better than to mingle with a mind who cannot stand with poise. Its intellect I hunger, its superficial nonsense that you provide. Once I thought I could wait, once I thought you were the goal, but now I realize you are nothing more than an insecure object. You've caused my mind to wander and you have wasted my time. You are a fragile soul and I wish I had the strength to make you see - but your eyes will never be that wide open. You will never see me as an intellectual equal, even though that is what I wish we could be. The strengths you had to tug on my heart have faded. If I look into your eyes again, I know what I will see. I will see you watching me walk away. I will see myself with a better creature, stronger, pure, whole-heartedly honest and more my equal. You will only know that your glimmer of hope closed, just as you closed the door when you had the chance.
'Till forever, you'll wonder if you get another chance...
No you can't have my number, I've lost my phone
August 15, 2007:
You pull your hair up in a messy bun, the sun is too warm to leave it down. Walking down the 5 flights of stairs that lead you to the concrete of the brazen city, you turn right on a mission for coffee. Iced coffee. Cold and sweet. You blast the music in your ears to drown the noise of the cars passing by. Rooney asks when your heart went missing, you smile as you walk with a beat down the street. Passing the rigid buildings lining the street that shoot straight up into the sky as if fighting to dominate with the sun. Men in expensive suits carry their work on their face and in their cases, dodging taxi cabs and Cadillacs, as they push forward to their next victim, or appointment. Turning the corner at the bagel shop, you smile brighter as Lilly Allen switches up the tempo in your ears. "Sun is in the sky, oh why oh why oh why would I want to be anywhere else...." The flower carts line the right side of the street and you can smell the daisies and roses even before approaching. You stop for a minute to admire the colors and shake your head at the young Asian man vying for your attention, wanting you to buy the "pretty flower for a pretty girl." You smile in admiration. Looking up towards the corner you notice a tall figure push through the door of the coffee shop. His mess of brown curls makes your heart beat faster, you cannot help but grin. Seeing the oncoming traffic a block away, you hustle across the two way street, stepping in a puddle and being thankful for wearing the knee-high boots. You push through the door of the coffee shop and let the smell of fresh roasted beans take over your senses. Deep, rich, aromatic. You reach down to kill the music in your ears and feel someone come up close. Looking up you see the gorgeous brown eyes and the mess of brown curls. An exchange of hello's is not necessary, a smile is all it takes. Days should always start this well, you think to yourself , grabbing the drink you ordered and making your way to join the best company you could request for a beautiful day in the city....
You pull your hair up in a messy bun, the sun is too warm to leave it down. Walking down the 5 flights of stairs that lead you to the concrete of the brazen city, you turn right on a mission for coffee. Iced coffee. Cold and sweet. You blast the music in your ears to drown the noise of the cars passing by. Rooney asks when your heart went missing, you smile as you walk with a beat down the street. Passing the rigid buildings lining the street that shoot straight up into the sky as if fighting to dominate with the sun. Men in expensive suits carry their work on their face and in their cases, dodging taxi cabs and Cadillacs, as they push forward to their next victim, or appointment. Turning the corner at the bagel shop, you smile brighter as Lilly Allen switches up the tempo in your ears. "Sun is in the sky, oh why oh why oh why would I want to be anywhere else...." The flower carts line the right side of the street and you can smell the daisies and roses even before approaching. You stop for a minute to admire the colors and shake your head at the young Asian man vying for your attention, wanting you to buy the "pretty flower for a pretty girl." You smile in admiration. Looking up towards the corner you notice a tall figure push through the door of the coffee shop. His mess of brown curls makes your heart beat faster, you cannot help but grin. Seeing the oncoming traffic a block away, you hustle across the two way street, stepping in a puddle and being thankful for wearing the knee-high boots. You push through the door of the coffee shop and let the smell of fresh roasted beans take over your senses. Deep, rich, aromatic. You reach down to kill the music in your ears and feel someone come up close. Looking up you see the gorgeous brown eyes and the mess of brown curls. An exchange of hello's is not necessary, a smile is all it takes. Days should always start this well, you think to yourself , grabbing the drink you ordered and making your way to join the best company you could request for a beautiful day in the city....
If You Could See It Now
August 19, 2007:
In my room which I minimally decorated, I would keep the lights low, almost just a glimmer, and lay in my bed. My stereo would blast only the purest sounds that my ears could handle, the soothing voice of an artist so admirable and inspiring that if you moved you missed the melody, the harmony, the catch to the riff that could break your soul. I would close my eyes and let all the muscles in my body relax, tension was not necessary when the deep feeling of desire poured through from fingertips to toes. Sitting up I would draw my knees to my chest, hanging my head as if in despair, at a moment tears could fall from my eyes, but the voice kept me steady and I bit my lip in thoughtful comfort. "Baby, light my way." Beyond the exterior of the walls that kept my mood in a box, the thoughts meandered between souls, discussing the nonsense and bullshit of world class hysteria and societal fuckups. A flick of my finger and the sound became louder, surrounding me as if it were to lift my body to a higher realm of hunger for something better than true existence. My fingers curled inwards, creating two fists ready to beat the world. Anger never filled my soul, but a drive to fight and move forward suffocated my mind. Stillness was never an option, I sat listening and pounded through thoughts that swirled in my mind never ready to escape from my lips. If I could find you, if you could pull me close and stare into my eyes, if you could steal me from my dreams and make my nightmares fade, I would cave into your arms and never seek evil that slips through my veins. Holding my knees closer to my chest I would think of the person who could take me away, and as I let the tears fall from my eyes and dampen my cheeks, I hoped with the strength like the melody that beat through my ears, that he would open his eyes and find me standing right there.... where I've always been.
In my room which I minimally decorated, I would keep the lights low, almost just a glimmer, and lay in my bed. My stereo would blast only the purest sounds that my ears could handle, the soothing voice of an artist so admirable and inspiring that if you moved you missed the melody, the harmony, the catch to the riff that could break your soul. I would close my eyes and let all the muscles in my body relax, tension was not necessary when the deep feeling of desire poured through from fingertips to toes. Sitting up I would draw my knees to my chest, hanging my head as if in despair, at a moment tears could fall from my eyes, but the voice kept me steady and I bit my lip in thoughtful comfort. "Baby, light my way." Beyond the exterior of the walls that kept my mood in a box, the thoughts meandered between souls, discussing the nonsense and bullshit of world class hysteria and societal fuckups. A flick of my finger and the sound became louder, surrounding me as if it were to lift my body to a higher realm of hunger for something better than true existence. My fingers curled inwards, creating two fists ready to beat the world. Anger never filled my soul, but a drive to fight and move forward suffocated my mind. Stillness was never an option, I sat listening and pounded through thoughts that swirled in my mind never ready to escape from my lips. If I could find you, if you could pull me close and stare into my eyes, if you could steal me from my dreams and make my nightmares fade, I would cave into your arms and never seek evil that slips through my veins. Holding my knees closer to my chest I would think of the person who could take me away, and as I let the tears fall from my eyes and dampen my cheeks, I hoped with the strength like the melody that beat through my ears, that he would open his eyes and find me standing right there.... where I've always been.
A Little Less Ordinary
October 15, 2007:
I'm uneasy these days and I'm not sure how to bottle the emotions. I have more focus now than I have in the past year, which is good, but I'm still not content. I wish I could find a quick fix to money. Borders Books may have a new employee soon. Books... orgasm on paper.
Maybe I'm uneasy because of the past couple weeks and the last weekend. Thursday was hell. Who knew I would cry? I did. Then seeing my pup in the knocked out state that he was.... yep, drained my emotions too. Not to mention when shit hits the fan when you least expect. One more piece of cow dung to throw on the pile of manure. The shitlist has been resurected, watch yourself.
But I did smile today (see Andy, I did!). And I smiled for a good reason. I went blog archive reading and was smiling to myself as I read one of my favorites from one of my favorite people. No details or names told, but it was good. If only I could tell them how good it was to me when I read it again... If only I could say so much more too.
Uneasy is the word that comes to mind, and I think its the one that best describes me at this moment. Will I make it? Will everything be okay? When will it be over? Will these feelings ever disappear?
Points for best random snippet:
In our first fifteen seconds of conversation you should always say something intriguing, unless you are boring. This rule goes for my blogs as well - and for those I read. Expectations are awesome - don't make me put you on my shitlist.
I'm uneasy these days and I'm not sure how to bottle the emotions. I have more focus now than I have in the past year, which is good, but I'm still not content. I wish I could find a quick fix to money. Borders Books may have a new employee soon. Books... orgasm on paper.
Maybe I'm uneasy because of the past couple weeks and the last weekend. Thursday was hell. Who knew I would cry? I did. Then seeing my pup in the knocked out state that he was.... yep, drained my emotions too. Not to mention when shit hits the fan when you least expect. One more piece of cow dung to throw on the pile of manure. The shitlist has been resurected, watch yourself.
But I did smile today (see Andy, I did!). And I smiled for a good reason. I went blog archive reading and was smiling to myself as I read one of my favorites from one of my favorite people. No details or names told, but it was good. If only I could tell them how good it was to me when I read it again... If only I could say so much more too.
Uneasy is the word that comes to mind, and I think its the one that best describes me at this moment. Will I make it? Will everything be okay? When will it be over? Will these feelings ever disappear?
Points for best random snippet:
In our first fifteen seconds of conversation you should always say something intriguing, unless you are boring. This rule goes for my blogs as well - and for those I read. Expectations are awesome - don't make me put you on my shitlist.
Black on Black
October 24, 2007:
I'm not sure what to write, but I need to spit it out.
My expectations are faltering,
And I'm questioning myself more than ever.
I'm wondering if its time
To cut the string and really say goodbye,
Make new with what little I have
And start fresh, never looking back at the past.
Every day I can feel some balance
But every day I have a moment,
Where I want to sit back and cry.
I feel like a fool, a pondering fool,
As if I'm trying too hard to be seen
In the eyes of those that I hold so close,
Yet they are too busy, too consumed,
They can't let me in, for reasons unknown.
And maybe it's time to realize
That I'll never truly be seen,
That even in the moments where I show all my weakness,
I will still always be nothing more than that.
To say good bye, to put it all behind,
To the one who makes me feel like I'm home,
To the one who makes me smile in my darkest moments,
I'm the fool and its time I simply let go...
I'm not sure what to write, but I need to spit it out.
My expectations are faltering,
And I'm questioning myself more than ever.
I'm wondering if its time
To cut the string and really say goodbye,
Make new with what little I have
And start fresh, never looking back at the past.
Every day I can feel some balance
But every day I have a moment,
Where I want to sit back and cry.
I feel like a fool, a pondering fool,
As if I'm trying too hard to be seen
In the eyes of those that I hold so close,
Yet they are too busy, too consumed,
They can't let me in, for reasons unknown.
And maybe it's time to realize
That I'll never truly be seen,
That even in the moments where I show all my weakness,
I will still always be nothing more than that.
To say good bye, to put it all behind,
To the one who makes me feel like I'm home,
To the one who makes me smile in my darkest moments,
I'm the fool and its time I simply let go...
Its Come Down to This
October 01, 2007:
Feeling a bit numb today for reasons I'd rather not express. Odd feeling running through my body, down to my finger tips. It's been an odd day. Sky has been overcast and grey all day.... as if the sky sensed the lingering greyness in my spirit for the past few days. Hopefully soon as the days go by, the grey will lift and the sun will shine through. For now... I'll keep to the silence.
On another note, I did some research about what to do with my JD (once I start/finish) and where I'd like to go. I think I found the job that will get my mind working in all its analytical glory, a job that will keep me physically active, and, a job that may possible get me moving around the nation and maybe the world. Ha! You all want to know, right? But I'm not telling... when I get the job, I'll fill everyone in.
For now... here's to the night it all was great, the night we did not have to say goodbye, the last time I smiled a real smile, and the months ahead that I pray will be good. I'm out.
Feeling a bit numb today for reasons I'd rather not express. Odd feeling running through my body, down to my finger tips. It's been an odd day. Sky has been overcast and grey all day.... as if the sky sensed the lingering greyness in my spirit for the past few days. Hopefully soon as the days go by, the grey will lift and the sun will shine through. For now... I'll keep to the silence.
On another note, I did some research about what to do with my JD (once I start/finish) and where I'd like to go. I think I found the job that will get my mind working in all its analytical glory, a job that will keep me physically active, and, a job that may possible get me moving around the nation and maybe the world. Ha! You all want to know, right? But I'm not telling... when I get the job, I'll fill everyone in.
For now... here's to the night it all was great, the night we did not have to say goodbye, the last time I smiled a real smile, and the months ahead that I pray will be good. I'm out.
If You Really Knew
September 24, 2007:
Walk around in this empty world,
Lay down your armor and be still,
Life is yours to live, feel, and create.
Upon this rock your soul shall rest,
Upon the ground and at your feet I will kneel,
My head resting against your leg,
My hand gripping, holding tight
To the being that has been missing.
Apologies flow from your mouth,
Your tears hit my hands.
In this clearing in the woods,
The mountains capped with white flakes,
The cold air wraps us both,
In a blanket of bitter pain.
I look up at your eyes,
At your feet I am at the mercy of you,
My words tell you simply,
That I am, and always have been, there for you,
That my heart aches when you are away,
And my hands tremble
When I cannot simply hold you.
Your eyes smile and your lips part,
Our hands lock and your broken voice speaks,
"I've always known...."
Wiping tears and pain
From your bronze tinted cheeks,
I hope for the day that the happiness
Envelopes you and makes you smile,
The way you used to smile,
Everyday.
Walk around in this empty world,
Lay down your armor and be still,
Life is yours to live, feel, and create.
Upon this rock your soul shall rest,
Upon the ground and at your feet I will kneel,
My head resting against your leg,
My hand gripping, holding tight
To the being that has been missing.
Apologies flow from your mouth,
Your tears hit my hands.
In this clearing in the woods,
The mountains capped with white flakes,
The cold air wraps us both,
In a blanket of bitter pain.
I look up at your eyes,
At your feet I am at the mercy of you,
My words tell you simply,
That I am, and always have been, there for you,
That my heart aches when you are away,
And my hands tremble
When I cannot simply hold you.
Your eyes smile and your lips part,
Our hands lock and your broken voice speaks,
"I've always known...."
Wiping tears and pain
From your bronze tinted cheeks,
I hope for the day that the happiness
Envelopes you and makes you smile,
The way you used to smile,
Everyday.
To Know or Not to Know
September 20, 2007:
"All of these lines across my face Tell you the story of who I am So many stories of where I've been And how I got to where I am But these stories don't mean anything When you've got no one to tell them to...."
It struck me, as I was listening to this song, that there is so much depth to one person, so much history, and yet, so very little known. It seems we only learn about one anothers stories through trivial situations or those occassional late-night conversations that tend to highlight one's querky habits and humiliations. But these are so rare that they tend to only reveal an eighth of a persons life. So what happens when you want to know more or say more? Just speak up and start talking? I do not believe this to be that easy. You need the right pair of ears to hear you. You need to meet the right story-teller. Not everyone is going to want to listen to the story of how you danced in the yard as a kid or prefer to watch the weather channel when you travel. We have these unique stories that we all carry and I do believe it is a matter of meeting the right person before we share. But how do we know when we have met that right person, and when we do, how do we keep them around and make them want to know more?
Sometimes I fear I will never be able to tell the whole story. Maybe fear is not the right word because a large part of me revels in the ability to remain low-key with an air of mystery. It's like the feeling of moving without being noticed. And when I'm ready to be noticed, I just look up or open my mouth. I guess my fear, more often than not, lies in the fact that I think I know who I want to tell my stories to, but I feel they do not want to listen. Which, if you know what I am speaking of, feels like your stomach is going to twist itself to oblivion. Not a happy feeling. Then there are the obvious on-lookers who want to hear your story, but only so they can then hear themselves talk. You know, those ones who start conversations, ask you about certain situations in your life, only so they can manipulate the conversation and direct it back at themselves. Though I am always amused at this maneuver, I find it irritatingly annoying at the same time. If only I could have a few more moments with that one person, then maybe I could speak up more and make them a believer in me.
I also believe that story-tellers are the most creative people in the world. They have the ability to see life from many angles and bring a unique aspect to each and every situation. And to tell a good story, you have to be real. To tell a lie is not telling a story, that's just awful. A good story-teller will tell the truth about themselves but in a beautiful manner. You become engaged in the story, seeing the details and images appear in your mind, feeling the emotions being spoken. Even the simplest and uneventful situations can become a work of art.
With that being said.... I guess my narrowed thought process on this whole subject is this: as I believe in life we are meant to be with many people, is it true to say we are meant to tell our stories to many people? And if this is true, why is it so hard to speak to those around when you only want to speak to one person? Does this then mean that maybe, just maybe, we are really only meant for one person?
"All of these lines across my face
Tell you the story of who I am
So many stories of where I've been
And how I got to where I am
But these stories don't mean anything
When you've got no one to tell them to
It's true...I was made for you
I climbed across the mountain tops
Swam all across the ocean blue
I crossed all the lines and I broke all the rules
But baby I broke them all for you
Because even when I was flat broke
You made me feel like a million bucks
Yeah you do and I was made for you
You see the smile that's on my mouth
Is hiding the words that don't come out
And all of my friends who think that I'm blessed
They don't know my head is a mess
No, they don't know who I really am
And they don't know what I've been through but you do
And I was made for you... "
"All of these lines across my face Tell you the story of who I am So many stories of where I've been And how I got to where I am But these stories don't mean anything When you've got no one to tell them to...."
It struck me, as I was listening to this song, that there is so much depth to one person, so much history, and yet, so very little known. It seems we only learn about one anothers stories through trivial situations or those occassional late-night conversations that tend to highlight one's querky habits and humiliations. But these are so rare that they tend to only reveal an eighth of a persons life. So what happens when you want to know more or say more? Just speak up and start talking? I do not believe this to be that easy. You need the right pair of ears to hear you. You need to meet the right story-teller. Not everyone is going to want to listen to the story of how you danced in the yard as a kid or prefer to watch the weather channel when you travel. We have these unique stories that we all carry and I do believe it is a matter of meeting the right person before we share. But how do we know when we have met that right person, and when we do, how do we keep them around and make them want to know more?
Sometimes I fear I will never be able to tell the whole story. Maybe fear is not the right word because a large part of me revels in the ability to remain low-key with an air of mystery. It's like the feeling of moving without being noticed. And when I'm ready to be noticed, I just look up or open my mouth. I guess my fear, more often than not, lies in the fact that I think I know who I want to tell my stories to, but I feel they do not want to listen. Which, if you know what I am speaking of, feels like your stomach is going to twist itself to oblivion. Not a happy feeling. Then there are the obvious on-lookers who want to hear your story, but only so they can then hear themselves talk. You know, those ones who start conversations, ask you about certain situations in your life, only so they can manipulate the conversation and direct it back at themselves. Though I am always amused at this maneuver, I find it irritatingly annoying at the same time. If only I could have a few more moments with that one person, then maybe I could speak up more and make them a believer in me.
I also believe that story-tellers are the most creative people in the world. They have the ability to see life from many angles and bring a unique aspect to each and every situation. And to tell a good story, you have to be real. To tell a lie is not telling a story, that's just awful. A good story-teller will tell the truth about themselves but in a beautiful manner. You become engaged in the story, seeing the details and images appear in your mind, feeling the emotions being spoken. Even the simplest and uneventful situations can become a work of art.
With that being said.... I guess my narrowed thought process on this whole subject is this: as I believe in life we are meant to be with many people, is it true to say we are meant to tell our stories to many people? And if this is true, why is it so hard to speak to those around when you only want to speak to one person? Does this then mean that maybe, just maybe, we are really only meant for one person?
"All of these lines across my face
Tell you the story of who I am
So many stories of where I've been
And how I got to where I am
But these stories don't mean anything
When you've got no one to tell them to
It's true...I was made for you
I climbed across the mountain tops
Swam all across the ocean blue
I crossed all the lines and I broke all the rules
But baby I broke them all for you
Because even when I was flat broke
You made me feel like a million bucks
Yeah you do and I was made for you
You see the smile that's on my mouth
Is hiding the words that don't come out
And all of my friends who think that I'm blessed
They don't know my head is a mess
No, they don't know who I really am
And they don't know what I've been through but you do
And I was made for you... "
End The Moment
September 17, 2007:
Weighing heavy on my chest, the ideas and thoughts still rolling around, forgive me for being so bold. Hunger has faded and my energy has drained. I want only to sit quietly and listen. Listen to everything that moved, everything that made me take each step to lead me where I am right now. Listening is remembering, and remembering is everything. Remembering how I got to this point in my life, remembering the time where I saw him for the first time. And remembering with clarity that defines the moment with bitter hurt, the time he walked away A year past and gone, and now I am without. I am without the being that used to be. I am without me.... This cloud that hovers over me, at times engulfing me entirely, suffocates my mind and my heart. I move forward slowly, understanding that time is my greatest ally. I have minor moments where the world fades away and I can see the smile that makes me believe everything will be okay. But those moments are so few and undefined, I push them out of my mind as soon as I say goodbye. Escape and movement is my strength at the moment, constantly finding the next place to be and the next interesting moment. Move and not falter, that is the direction I am to go to escape this cloud and the moments that made me weak. Forgive me for admitting the truth, I'm tucking it away as if it never happened and I'm going forward. Passing you and everything that was, everything that made question myself. A minor moment had and gone. Maybe you can find me again and untuck what I folded so neatly away. Until then, I'm off to find me....
Weighing heavy on my chest, the ideas and thoughts still rolling around, forgive me for being so bold. Hunger has faded and my energy has drained. I want only to sit quietly and listen. Listen to everything that moved, everything that made me take each step to lead me where I am right now. Listening is remembering, and remembering is everything. Remembering how I got to this point in my life, remembering the time where I saw him for the first time. And remembering with clarity that defines the moment with bitter hurt, the time he walked away A year past and gone, and now I am without. I am without the being that used to be. I am without me.... This cloud that hovers over me, at times engulfing me entirely, suffocates my mind and my heart. I move forward slowly, understanding that time is my greatest ally. I have minor moments where the world fades away and I can see the smile that makes me believe everything will be okay. But those moments are so few and undefined, I push them out of my mind as soon as I say goodbye. Escape and movement is my strength at the moment, constantly finding the next place to be and the next interesting moment. Move and not falter, that is the direction I am to go to escape this cloud and the moments that made me weak. Forgive me for admitting the truth, I'm tucking it away as if it never happened and I'm going forward. Passing you and everything that was, everything that made question myself. A minor moment had and gone. Maybe you can find me again and untuck what I folded so neatly away. Until then, I'm off to find me....
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