You ever tried running to the horizon?
Your legs burning, your stomach churning with each step.
Tears streaming down your face, not of your sadness but from pure exhaustion.
And your heart, pounds.
The sun is just beyond your grasp and you reach towards it with your soul.
Only you find that you must continue stepping into the continuing dimming of the sun’s light.
You realize that you’re stuck in limbo of ever hailing want you.
And still you don’t want to stop, because it’s the warmth that you long for, fleeing from the dark emptiness behind you.
Category: Life
The Verdict is in…
So I went to NC for the holidays with one of my good friends and and her family. Going, it was a 10 hour drive. Coming back, it was a 12 hour drive (I drove 176 miles!! haha) They were very hospitable and I had a good time. Food, shopping, HGTV; what more could a girl ask for? But the highlight of the trip for me (besides the awesome food) was my friend’s 19 month old niece.
‘E’ was just what all babies are to me, absolutely adorable and just a ball of love. Although at times she cried, and she pooped a lot, and told me “no” a lot, and sometimes she rose that left hand to hit, she was a joy to be around. But this little girl got me thinking about my own want for kids.
When I was younger I wanted five kids. Of course those were in my premenstrual years when I didn’t know what having even one child meant. I didn’t understand the way the woman’s body worked to nurture this fetus. I didn’t understand the way a mother worked to nurture her child. And as I became to understand it, the number lessened, until I wasn’t sure that I wanted to have even one child. My vanity and my fear took hold of me for a while. But this weekend, as I admired this child, I came to realize that to not have at least one child of my own, would be depriving myself of a love that I can only imagine until experienced.
Now of course, one may think I’m am totally looking at the situation with rose colored glasses, and maybe I am, but this is one woman who believes in the purity and the gift of a child.
Sucky BlackBerry Balls
As those who know me know, I am a “Crackberry” addict. And for about 3 years, I have stood by faithfully to the BlackBerry Curve. But as much as I have loved each of my Curves, none of them have loved me back. They all gave up on be before the year was up. And with all three of them, it all came down to the apparently, not made for serious use, trackball. Now granted, I’ve abused the ball with constant rolls and presses, but I think it should be able to stand up to a demanding texter/emailer/web-surfer. I mean, this phone at retail is $349.99. The manufacturers could, no, they should find a way to make this vital piece more stable. Granted, I have dropped it before but I’m only human. This is a man made device and I expect more.
Now, the whole point of me bringing this up is that yet another Curve has decided to give up on me. And yes, you guessed it; the ball is falling out of its place. Exibit A:
It’s only been just over a year, and the little plastic piece that is supposed to hold the ball no longer holds it in. I am now wondering on whether or not I should just give up on my love for my BB Curve. Should I get an iPhone? Should let go of my BBM (BlackBerry Messenger) addiction, accept that little apple into my world and enter the cult of pointless apps? In the words of
MY NEW DIVOGA
So, in talking about MY NEW DIVOGA (chair), there are a three things that I must talk about, because I think they are all related.
1. Procrastination
2. Motivation
3. The new FENG SHUI of my room
They say the road to recovery is admittance of a problem. So here goes.
Hello, I am a Procrastinator! Things that I want to achieve in the long run come second to things that I want to do right now.
This story of procrastination starts with me deciding on a whim to rearrange my room. Of course you can’t picture it if you haven’t seen my room, but that doesn’t matter. I came home and I just had to move my bed from the middle of my room to the corner. What matters is that this move caused another problem to further my procrastination. There was now a huge empty space where my bed used to be, and I was stuck on how to resolve this space. Rugs, new curtains, paint…Ikea, Home Depot, Office Max, Bed Bath and Beyond. I couldn’t think of anything that I felt secure about.
So bam! Fast forward to the following Sunday’s voice lesson with Mary Elizabeth Micari and she hands me a book. FENG SHUI IN 10 SIMPLE LESSONS by jANE bUTLER-bIGGS. 
Now I didn’t read the book from cover to cover, but I took away a few simple helpful tips.
1. Colors matter.
2. Materials matter (what your furniture is made of).
3. It all comes down to the balance of chi/energy in your living space.
What this book really did for me was show me where the chi lied within my living space. I wanted my space to be motivational as well as calming. It turns out that my metal frame bed was suited for the northwest corner of my room (according to the Ba Gua chart this corner of my room governs guardian angels, helpful people and mentors and the late evening…I know, I know, Feng Shui is deep!)
So I decided that I wanted a red chair for my workspace/desk. Red, within the color range of Fire (one of the five elements including Water, Wood, Earth and Metal), motivates Action, Enlightenment, Self-esteem and Public status. And in being a procrastinator, I was hoping this red would light a fire under my a** to get some writing done. So I purchased MY NEW DIVOGA today and assembled it as soon as I got home.
Beaut ain’t he? Yes, he’s a he. 🙂 He even has a chrome base which, in the chart of elements, is supposed to motivate Order, Structure, Leisure and pleasure as well as Creativity. Did I pick a perfect chair, or did I pick a perfect chair? Now all I need is a green plant in the southeast corner of my room for prosperity! 😛
Now, so far, this has proven to be a good investment, because it is 1am, I have a 16 hour day tomorrow and I’m still up writing. Let’s hope this is a sign of good stories, poems, blogging to come.
Mourning Reflection
I miss you. But I can’t tell you. I know that I can’t keep you. Though I love
you. Thinking of someone else loving you. Thinking of you loving someone else. My blue donkey is soaked with tears of my thinking.
There’s surely someone else who can handle you. There’s surely someone else who won’t get broken by things you say. There’s surely someone who will handle me with care. There’s surely someone who will realize that I am easily broken by things said.
I don’t know why I cry. Though I know I love you. Though I know you love me. Things weren’t as good as we figured they’d be, because we loved.
So I lay here thinking of how bad things were. So I lay here thinking you’re not thinking of me. So I lay here thinking of us apart. And I lay here wishing you were next to me, though I know it wouldn’t help.
Good times seemed few. Overshadowed by harsh words and thin skin. But I recall the night of moonlight and sparse stars. A night of burned spaghetti and burning candles. Nights in your arms.
But now I’m at the point of mourning where I wonder if I’d ever find someone. Because right now I want no one. Though I miss you.
I can’t believe I’m at a point where I want nothing. Recuperating from. Reflecting on. Mourning. You.
My love and Him
He never wanted to be with me the way I wanted to be with him.
That’s why he never believed that anything could be fixed.
Everything just was.
He never wanted to be with me, he just wanted to be with me because I meant that he was no longer lonely.
Pleading, pleading I was.
And he, angry angry.
Love him, love him, I did.
And he, angry angry.
I didn’t want him to think I trying to change him.
But he did.
I didn’t want to feel like he was guarded.
But I did.
I told him I didn’t remember ever crying as hard as when I let him go.
The hardest thing about letting go is not knowing if the other person truly understands just how hard it was to do.
I didn’t want to love with boundaries.
I create boundaries with associates, those untrustworthy.
But not with him, my love.
My love, my one and only.
But he was never..confident about my pleasure pleased.
"Love and Faith"…"Faith and Love"…it's the same, but it's different
Now, you may think that my logic is nonsensical, but let me explain what I mean in saying that “Love and Faith” are different from “Faith and Love,” yet are still the same.
Someone once told me that “to Love is a choice.” I didn’t understand that. I thought that Love was just a force that came into your life, unexpectedly and wildly. But I have come to realize that though Love is a force of nature that we may not truly understand at times, Love is a conscious force. Once we decide to love something/one, then we decide to love the good and put Faith in that thing or that one and work through the bad. Think about the team you’re rooting for this season, or the person you decided to make your partner. Just think about it and you’ll see my logic.
Now, having Faith in something or someone on the other hand, nourishes a person’s Love. Having Faith can also be a conscious decision. The only thing I can think of, where Faith is the first order is religion. Regardless of your religious faith, whether Catholic, Jew, Pagan, or none of the above, Faith can at times, develop into a deep Love. You develop an intimate relationship with your religion and it’s elements.
Regardless of the order of means, one thing holds true: the Devotion that develops from this equation. This is why “Love and Faith” and “Faith and Love” are different, but the same. Can you dig it?
Validation
What it means to be “qualified” in life? Is it just this one person, or is the whole universe a judge as to whether or not your even qualified to survive? Are you the real person who validates your own being? They say “make your own destiny,” but I’ve also been taught about fate as well as what it means to do what is safe and where is the validation in that?
With life we all go through stages. Each of these stages are saturated with the idea of validation. “Am I qualified to be the leader of this team?” “Am I qualified to serve donuts?” “Am I qualified to attend this school?” “I am qualified to be your lover?” “I am qualified to be your friend?” “I am qualified to be whatever you want me to be?” But who is really the judge of this “valid” feeling/option/quality? Your boss? The guy across the room? Your mother? Your father? Your wife’s parents? The manager of Chuck E. Cheese?
I don’t want to live a life where I feel as though I need to be “validated.” Being free of that word is being free from the fear of judgment which makes one question one’s adequacy. My fear is to live an ordinary life because I do not feel as though I am “ordinary.”
I want to made a valid part of society. I want to be a valid part of a valid relationship. I want to be of the echelon, but it starts within my own mind. And in viewing myself as of the echelon does not disqualify anyone else from such a ranking. It only takes determination, courage and a fearless way of life, without being careless.
Defend Myself Against the World
My perception is skewed by my constant need to prove that no one else can validate me.
Only I have the power to validate my feelings or my actions.
But still I cry as the turmoil fights inside (I know that sounds cliché, but fuck it).
I painfully see the errors in my ways and it will take a force of nature for me to change.
None will pass my way, as I defend myself against the world.
I will never play the role of the weak.
I will always prove that I am no meeker than the strongest of beings.
My mind runs over me and tramples emotions that lay helplessly before my path towards emotional growth.
I don’t know what to do, and I stumble through uncharted territories.
All I know is my mind is wide and my heart is deep.
And my eyes betray me when I react shallowly, defending myself against the world.
What Acting Means to Me
Acting class teaches me how to approach life. I realize that I’m timid when it comes to apporaching situations within my life, and acting teachs me to always take center stage. It means having the courage to step out of myself to be someone else, and allow myself to enjoy it, and be good at it. I lack the courage to be great, as many people do, because we settle for being just at par, when we have the potential to be so much more. So I guess acting is teaching me courage. I fear being wrong, being judged, failing, which causes me to not take situations into my own hands. With acting, I fumble a lot in the beginning, and I am criticized and directed, but I still have to take a role, or a monologue and make it into something that’s worth watching and being.
LiberTeeLove 