Dream From Hell

This morning I had the most beautiful experience....well it was until I woke up. Then it was hell.

I got to see a future that I screwed up. It was happy. I was happy.

Now it's just a dream and I get to live in the reality of the nightmare.

I'm going to take a shower and try to feel better after.
It change from minute to minute, hour to hour...

If you have access to my private blog, you can read about it there.
If you have access to my trust, you can ask me about it and I'll tell you.

Snow Days and Dark Houses

Today I wrote down a few poetry ideas and turned one into a poem. I didn't mean for it to be so dark, but it might be one of the darkest things I've ever written. The idea was to write from the place where I used to feel stuck and alone when Luke did his disappearing act. I guess it was a lot darker than I remember. The title is The Dark House and I was going to post it on here before I realized how depressing it was. I might still post it after I've done a couple more drafts.
We'll see...

Written Word

I find that words can be empty. They get lost after you say them or sometimes they come out wrong (maybe more than sometimes). I'm mostly referring to the spoken word, not writing.

Stories were passed along orally long before written word, but how many of those stories are still remembered in comparison with the ones that were written down? How many were forgotten? How many were transformed into new stories than in no way resembled the original?

Writing is an art that may some day become extinct in our hunger for technological advances. Typing does not and never will be able to replace writing. The brain continues spew messy thoughts as you type and as a result you cannot pay attention to the detail, the art that goes into each word, syllable that make up the meaning of a piece of writing.

Writing is art; it's tangible and it's evidence.
Love letters and letters of friendship and of new events etc. went out the window a long time ago. It makes me sad. One of my best friends and I used to send each other long letters. There's nothing quite like receiving a letter and knowing a lot of time went into the thought and preparation of it.

These days I write poems rather than letters. I have a gift for turning letters and words into a beautiful picture or story. It's a gift many people used to have. I don't show my work to people, because who has time to understand something so beautiful when we're all too busy doing 10 things at once. I don't take so much time to type anything special on here for the same reason.
Perhaps I should though...

Most recently I wrote a letter to someone I care about. I shoved it into his hand before I left and thought I was a coward for writing it rather than saying it. I'm not though. You can forget what someone says if you want to. You can't deny that they took time to write it down.

I sat down in the quiet of my home and thought about him and only him. Then I put my most vulnerable bits on paper and gave it to him. I put my heart into every piece of writing (school and work aside). I put my heart into that letter. So now it's real; my heart, my vulnerability and my connection with him.

I'll never forget. I even saved a copy for myself.
This letter is me standing and holding my own.
This is my promise to never run away from someone I care about so much ever again.
This is me facing my biggest fear - being left by someone I love.
It may be too late for things to be as they were and should be, but I can be satisfied that I did try...eventually.
Better late than never.

I'm not ashamed of the letter or anything else I have ever written.
We all deserve to have such a letter written to us.

The Fourth Kind

Have you ever seen the movie, the Fourth Kind?

I saw it in theaters.

Key word: "Saw" - by which I mean I most closed my eyes or averted them from the screen.

It freaked me out and will probably continue to give me nightmares for the rest of my life.

I didn't sleep for a week straight after I saw it. The night after I went to Dunkin Donuts and got a large coffee and some donuts. I sat up the entire night with the lights on in the den with the tv on. I didn't sleep. The rest of the week I stayed in my bed at night, but kept the light on. The one time I did try to turn it off, I could have sworn aliens were in my room. On went the light again.

After a week I decided I needed something comforting to put me to sleep, so I made an Owl City playlist that played all night and put a nightlight in my bathroom. I got some sleep, but still woke up at different times of the night with nightmares. If I woke up before 3:33 then I would stay awake until 4 AM.
After a month I stopped using the playlist to sleep...mostly because I memorized all the songs and the lyrics would stick in my head so I couldn't sleep.



This blog entry has nothing to do with The Fourth Kind and everything to do with something else...okay, someone else.
I would watch it every day just to get him back.

The only thing scarier than clowns and aliens, is being hurt by a man I care about.
Well I ran away so I wouldn't get hurt. I didn't face that fear then and now it's too late.

So I guess I'll face the clowns and the aliens for now and hope that maybe I'll get another chance to face my biggest fear sometime soon in the future.

Note: A minute and a half into it and I'm hyperventilating and shaking from fear.
If I can face this, I can face anything right?

Dancer Bias

Have you ever noticed how judgmental dancers are?
Probably not.

Over the years I've noticed that dancers:
1. Only critique other dancers
2. Generally think there's a difference between people who learn to dance and people who have the natural ability
3. Don't criticize non dancers unless they look ridiculous

And of course all of this is between dancers, so you almost never hear about it if you aren't a dancer.
Dance can be clickish, but whatever.

I say dance if it makes you happy.
I do.

What's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for you?

Adopted me :)

Ask me anything

It Must Be Nice

The real world isn't a tv show. It's a jolt to the naive; a harsh reality where only the realistically optimistic and determined can flourish.

Last year someone who means a great deal to me said, "oh, to be a college kid. it must be nice." I ignored the sting of that comment. I don't like being belittled. Honestly, I didn't really care or want to know what he meant by that.

Now I know. Now it's my turn to say that. I won't say it of course, but I'll think it.
It was nice, but now it's over and I have to face the fact that I am first and foremost an adult.

It's a sobering thought.

On my day off, I thought long and hard about everything.

Also on my mind: Family.
Our family is our foundation. Families come in all shapes and sizes and some aren't even blood related. I have 3. My parents, my sister, and my brothers/Katya.

The family I have been thinking about is the one that raised me. My grandmothers and my parents. My mom said that I was the brightest thing in Nana's life. Previously I remember one of my parents and/or nana saying I was the hope for the future.

That's a lot to live up to. It's hard to live up to.
I know I can and I'm sure I will though.

Thing brings me to my next though: One generation is gone.
Our parents are taking the place of our grand parents and we're taking the place of our parents. This isn't to say we're becoming them, but we're becoming the adult generation. It's time for us to find our places in the world.

We can't do it alone though. That's why we have family...and so the cycle continues. As I've said before, life continues and soon my generation will be getting married/finding life partners and eventually having children. Not everyone of course, but a good majority.

Life is never ending. Family continues as well.
On and on and on.

So where am I in this cycle?
I'm learning how to be an adult.
Every day I worry first about money and second about love.
Word of the year: Responsibility.

This may sound like an unhappy post, but it's not. I'm a little bitter, but I'm far more relieved not to be so naive anymore. It's simply a reality check.