Something's Missing

"I'm not alone. I wish I was. Cause then I'd know I was down because I couldn't find a friend around to love me like they do right now... I can't be sure that this state of mind is not of my own design. I wish there was an over the counter test for loneliness, for loneliness like this... Something's missing, and I don't know how to fix it. Something's missing, and I don't know what it is." - Something's Missing by John Mayer

I've come to the conclusion that when I'm lonely, I always want to be more lonely in a roundabout way.

I want to just... leave. Instead of working at my loneliness, I give up. I pack my things and leave for a while.

I guess that's just how I work... I can't NOT be doing something. Going somewhere. Meeting someone. Always running.

When I stop for a moment, breathe it all in... it's good... but only for a moment. Then I think. I start to see how I can't control it... how it never pans out quite like I planned.

And then, loneliness kicks in.

I see the people around me... and I feel like something's missing.

Something's always missing.

Someone's always missing.

So to counter-act it, I run farther.

And farther...

And farther...

Until I'm so far away... that there's no one and nothing left.

Just me and somewhere I've never been, something I've never done.

Because really, that's all that makes me happy, now.

No emotional attachments... that only hurts.

Instead, I'm running. Breathing in and out. It hurts in a way as well... But my heart feels good, pounding there in my chest. It's not breaking, it's stretching. It's building itself up.

That is love.

And how can I be lonely when I feel that kind of love?

How can I be lonely when I'm always running somewhere new?

I can't be.

And yet... I am more alone than ever before.

"Now that I have found someone, I'm feeling more alone than I ever have before." - Brick by Ben Folds

Sammich(es) and Heartbreak(er)

For the record, the title holds no meaning to this post. They were just the first two words that popped into my head before I started to write.



... Hmm... maybe they do hold meaning... randomosity. That's kind of what this post is all about.


I recently had three separate people tell me I'm ditzy.


Weird.


I never knew!


But I think that's because my description of ditzy = stupid girl.


The people who told me I'm ditzy say otherwise. They say ditzy = something like spontaneous and insane.

THAT. I am.


So, I guess I can live with that one.


Also, I have come to fully appreciate backrubs and those who give them. If you're reading this, you know who you are and that I love you dearly.

Random fact: I threw up a lot this morning. Yippee... not.


I am not happy about being sick. Not happy at all.

I really wish one of those back rubbing people were here... my back does not take kindly to kneeling in front of a toilet, retching, for nearly three hours.


But that's what moms are for, I suppose.

And I love my mom.


She's making a delicious chicken bake casserole with rice for dinner. Thankfully, I haven't throw up since 8:38am. THEREFORE! I shall be participating in this glorious meal.


Yay.


I guess that's really all I have to say for the moment...


Maybe later I'll write about a few memorable concerts I've been to...

Hmm...


Or maybe I'll start a new blog... A post for each concert I attend. YES. I shall.

Let's see...

I think I've been to something like 17 rock concerts now...


I like this idea.


:)

Killing Him With Kindness

A while back, I was having a discussion with one of my best friends, about a friend of mine who I was mad at due to his weird off-on-off-on friendship patterns.

She told me that she was going to "kill him with kindness."

I love that phrase.

A lot.

Sometimes, people make you mad. Sometimes, they push your buttons. And the best way to deal with this... is to not get mad back at them. Oh. NO. That's what they want! The answer is to "kill them with kindness" !!!

After she told me that I tried to treat everyone really nicely all of the time. It didn't really work...

But I'm trying again. :)

This solution also works well with people you are NOT mad at. Then you can just love them like you wanted to love them anyway. They're happy. You're happy.

When you kill the enemy with kindness... it's because you're happy and they can't bring you down, no matter what. They can push your buttons, tell you you're an ugly cow (which, by the way, is a greatly offensive thing to saw to a real cow), and it does nothing. You still give them love.

"Smile and wave, boys. Smile and wave."

;)

Today.

Today I woke up late because I forgot to set my alarm.

I had been up til nearly 2am the night before, laying in bed, without actually falling asleep. Once I did get some sleep, it was sporadic and filled with nightmares and dreams of the most random thoughts in the back of my mind.

This is what transpired after I woke up:

9:30am (Feb. 1st) (all times are rough estimates) - My sister calls me, wondering where I was. I was supposed to work for her at 9am.
10:20am - I leave my house. (No breakfast was had.)
10:55am  - I arrive at my sister's house with Starbucks coffee for both of us.
11:05am - I begin my duties as housemaid.
1:30pm - Lunch break... I drive to my college to have lunch with friends. (I didnt actually eat anything.)
2:35pm - I leave the college and make my way to Dutch Bros to pick up hot cocoa for my neice and a smoothie for my sister.
3:06pm - I get back to work.
4:57pm - I finish my work and leave for dinner with a friend before my class.

6pm - I go to my Creative Writing (Non-Fiction) class... Writing 240. (In which I drew the two pages of art shown in this photo)

9:30pm - The class gets out 30min early. I am overjoyed.

9:47pm - I make it home.

10pm - I eat dinner: steak! (The first food to be put in my belly since the night before.)

10:45pm - I do the daily dishes.

11:10pm - I practice my bass in the basement for roughly 30min...

11:43pm - I change over the laundry and fold the towels.

11:50pm - Finally resting. A red plastic cup of ice water and an old, twice re-frozen Reeses Peanutbutter Cup Blizzard from Dairy Queen to snack on.

12:02am (Feb. 2nd) - Blogging, reading and pondering life til my eyes go numb so I can sleep.

That was today... or yesterday, as the case may be.

Songs of Regret

Songs I listen to when I'm feeling particularly regretful and/or unhappy plus a poem I wrote about two years ago about eternity. Aren't you excited?

Ben Folds Five - Mess.



Matchbox 20 - Bed of Lies.

(I couldn't find a video for this one...)

http://popup.lala.com/popup/360569488118814094

Eternity:

I have no words to speak,


I have nothing to say.

There are no thoughts left to think,

That are worth thinking, anyway.



There are only memories,

There is only music and poetic lines..

There is only the motion,

Of time slipping through my mind.



It was nothing to me,

Yet somehow I've lost something.



Time is turning eternally,

And sometimes it's the only thing I can feel.

Now I only wish I could go back,

Restart, and say what is real.



Because now I know,

Eternity began several years ago.



Music is flowing eternally,

And sometimes it's the only thing I want to hear.

Now I only wish I could change the track,

Turn the record over and remember the fear.



Because now I see,

I could have stopped all these things.



Memories are always around,

But sometimes I can't remember if they're real.

I only wish I could see them as they were,

And remember why I wanted my future to be clear.



Because now I know,

That it wasn't worth the show.



I have no words to speak,

I have nothing to say.

There are no thoughts left to think,

That are worth thinking, anyway...



There are only memories,

There is only music and poetic lines.

There is only the motion,

Of time slipping through my mind...



It was nothing to me,

Yet somehow I've lost something.



I'm missing something that I never had.

Why do things always seem so bad?

I'm missing something that I never had.

Maybe I can still go back... back.

October is Eternal.

I want this day, week and year to be over. But I want this month to last forever. I want the world to eternally be lost in October’s crisp winds and golden sunshine. Why? Maybe it’s because I want to be able to take long walks and feel good about something for once. I haven’t felt really at peace about anything, except the weather of this month, for the past few years of my life. I’m missing something I never had and wishing I could still go back to it. Back to the beginning of an eternity that started so long ago. We speak of eternity as if it’s always just about to happen, yet never quite here… But it is already here. Eternity began before we could comprehend what eternity meant.

But I digress.

Today, as I walked through a cemetery of forgotten souls, I realized that I am alone.

I didn’t realize it and then weep… I wept until I realized that I knew what the truth was. I wept for myself. I wept for the sorrow I felt for years. A sorrow I couldn’t understand. Then, suddenly, I knew… I knew that it would be like this for a long time. Maybe forever. Some people never get married. Some people never have a serious relationship. Some people never have a relationship, sexual, marital or even friendly, period.

So, I finally understood. This is how it will be. What’s the use in crying? What’s the use in drowning in my sorrow? No use. No point. No reason.

I stopped crying.

The wind picked up in that cemetery, and the trees made a melody that only some will ever hear. A song for the dead and the dying. We are all dying, but some live in denial of this simple fact. I almost pity them, because they will never be able to hear this music. They will never hear this enchanting lamentation that the wind, the trees, the grass and the graves whisper out to me, for eternity.

Being alone can be eternal. But so can October. October will not fade. Not from me. October is in the remains of my soul. Within that damp grave of my life, a life made for dying, the shattered mirror walls of my hollow heart now reflect only the broken light and screaming winds of October. And that’s fine with me.

How could I say such a thing? Isn’t the whole point of life to find truth? To find beauty? To find freedom? And most importantly, love?

No.

Life doesn’t have a reason. Or if it does, we don’t need to discover it. I don’t need to know why I am alone. I don’t really even want to know. The truth is a terrible thing. It drives you to the brink of love, life and sanity and throws you into the darkness of the pit. Isn’t that why it’s called falling in love? Someone, something pushed you off the edge, and all you can feel now is the adrenaline coursing through your veins and the wind rushing past your body, leaving you breathless.

I’ve come to the conclusion that people who suffer mental disorders are not crazy. They are simply hyper-aware of things that we weren’t ever supposed to know. Panic attacks… you become hyper aware of your surroundings and it drives you insane. You can’t fully take it in. You can’t truly comprehend the death that you know is coming, but you do know that it is coming... slowly and surely.

It reminds me of a Metallica song… You finally see that “the soothing light at the end of your tunnel was just a freight train coming your way.”

But I’m getting off of the point.

I may never find love, truth, freedom or beauty. But does that mean I can’t feel them, as ghosts in my dying world? Does that mean I can’t breathe their sweet, musky scent as they pass me by? No. I can. I will. I have.

                                          

I took a walk on a Sunday afternoon in October. I felt the wind whip my hair across my face. My eyes squinted nearly shut as I look toward the mid-afternoon sun. I was cold. But the cold thrilled me. My pupils were tiny specks of black ink in my eyes, yet I continued to look West, into the sun.

I am eternally enthralled by the sheen of October’s bright orb of an eye. Enthralled by October itself. On this walk, nothing can crush my absolute certainty that life, though dying, is beautiful. Love, though broken, is real. Freedom, though trapped, is found in every corner. And truth… truth is an everlasting gobstopper... a glass of wine that will never be drained, though it may always be half-empty. But does this mean that we should not try to drain it? Of course not. I know that now.

And I know that October… my majestic October... is eternal.

Burning Diamonds

These are some notes from a song idea I had a few months ago. It was the idea of Burning Diamonds.

"A cage of burning diamond, holding in the tortured soul.

Breaking it into a million pieces of stolen thoughts.

A life of twisted granite, crumbling at the touch of something whole.

Breaking into a million memories of shattered thoughts.

Can even this describe Hell? No.

Can anyone describe the memory of an emotion in your worst nightmare? Never.

So why do I keep trying?

Do I need to know what Death holds in store?

Why would one focus on eternal pain of death when they still have time left to grasp, however feebly, the memory of partial life?

I think burning diamonds would be the most incredible sight... and the most painful thing to try to grasp.

'Diamonds are much like people. Pressed and scorched into something beautiful. We are nothing until something powerful makes us something. Burning diamonds is the epitome of burning people. We are destroying ourselves. Something that was meant to be beautiful.' -R

In a way... we become diamonds by being forced to get closer to ourselves.

We're pushed inward and forced to look at our sins until we change.

Once we see properly, we've become clear like a diamond to ourselves.

And we modify.

Otherwise we're just lumps of black rock."