I underestimate my need for friends. I know that is so unfair to you all. but it's one of my failing that I haven't gotten around to amending yet.



I forget how good it is to talk you all. How it is food for my soul to laugh with you. To be with you.



I am convinced there is not enough hugging going around in this world. Hugs are the best.



My North Carolina family goes back home today....And I exaggerate not, I am feeling ill, sick to my stomach, because I'm so sad. It's not usually hard for me to say goodbye. Life moves people in and out of our lives and I've always known that crying does not help them come back any sooner. It doesn't change what is. But I couldn't help myself this time.



I live inside my mind. And inside my mind, I tell myself that I am a secondary friend to you all. I am replaceable. Life continues on without me, just as easily as it did with. I am distant from you all in my mind. Like a bird fly way, way overhead. There but not. A third wheel. And think I am realizing that all that might be a lie. A big, hairy one. One that has robbed us.



I think that's why I am so torn up about them leaving. But then again, I don't want to rationalize it. I want to believe that I am torn up because I may be somewhat human.



Work at the swim school is humanizing me. I am less of an alien now. Let me tell you, being human is weird.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Y-XBWXY9H0

Where were you?

"I found God
On the corner of First and Amistad
Where the west
Was all but won
All alone
Smoking his last cigarette
I said, Where you been?
He said, Ask anything.
Where were you
When everything was falling apart?
All my days
Were spent by the telephone
That never rang
And all I needed was a call
It never came
To the corner of First and Amistad" -The Fray "You Found Me"

I was sitting in the back seat of a car watching the world through a small break in the frost on my window. The Fray played on the radio, and as the only star in the sky centered itself in my patch of frostless window, I wondered if it was coincidence...If maybe God had lined that star up inside the frame of ice crystals for me to see. But as the car turned and the star disappeared, I turned from the window. Because it wasn't good enough. And it dawned on me.

I've figured out why I am mad at God.

It's because if he loved me, he would have saved her. He would have made her believe. He would have softened her heart. He would have given me the strength to help her.

That's why I am where I am now. That's why I graduated early. It's why I haven't knelt before Him for months. It's why my passion is dead. I'm so sick of being sorry. Cause I don't know why I couldn't do a thing. I don't know what I should have done differently, other than care less than I did.... So there it is. I can do nothing to change it. That's what it is and now I know. I don't know what else there is to say. Except that I don't know where this epiphany leads me or what it makes me.

Cause as much as i tell myself that i planted a seed. and that someone else will come along and help her to believe...i am in the end met with the fact that she is more angry and more sorrowful than before she knew me.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=obhdTlImFBo i think the Fray wrote this song for me.

grrrr.....ARGH

I am frustrated.
I think that I do not see things the way I used to see them.
And the more I try to look back, the angrier I become.
Cause I can't see things as purely as I did.
I don't know what to blame it on.
It could be that I am getting old.
It could be that I was wrong about what I saw.
But I don't think it mattered what I saw, if it was true or false.
It mattered that I saw it, purely.
When I looked at it so absolutely focused, there was passion.
Passion is dead.
The sad thing about passion biting the dust is that apathy replaces it.
There is just the dull throb of a heart that doesn't care.
The irritation at things that beg you to care.
I don't, sorry.
It could be that I can't pray without asking for something.
It could be that I am angry at God.
But everything I blame on him is my fault really.
I guess that's all I have to say about that.
This is where I've landed for now.
Don't ask me how I feel about it!
Cause I don't have any problem telling you.
I am frustrated.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p62rfWxs6a8

I miss the ocean
The ocean and I have an understanding
An allowance of faults on either end
An comprehension and acceptance at the other's imperfection
Still we fight each other all day
Until I am exhausted
And she resolves to bury my toes in sand
The sea and I are not angry
Not at each other
We meet each other as competitors
As scientists to see who will survive
As equal hearts pitched against the other
And as I stand against her
She thrashes and drags me in
I struggle to resist her gravity
She recedes then ingests me like mouthwash
I no longer stand
She spits me back up
Because she doesn't need me
And I lay in the sand
Too tired to give a crap that it's everywhere
That the little grains are melding with the fibers of my suit
Who would care
Who would dare to object
I have lost and am content to loose
So the soaked sand takes me in
As the ocean reaches her fingers up
To tell me to rest
To say she's sorry
To ask me back in

Happy Birthday....man, i think it's been like a year since i've written some semblance of poetry...i'm afraid that is my only excuse.

cheese. I am officially exhausted.

i've been debating with myself for the last week or two. Same old stuff. The stuff I don't speak to people about because it's too hard.

I've come to the conclusion that grey exists in our minds. Not in reality. That's what I think. There is no such thing as grey.

I think I've been so lukewarm lately....i've been making myself want to puke. It is one of the things that I hate myself for. I wish I had the guts to do stuff all the way instead of putting my toe over the edge....and at the same time i'm glad i don't leap off of moral buildings, because there is this thing called gravity and it tends to catch up with you...but it's just one of those things that presents itself to me as a weakness. And that just grates on my nerves.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NeNJoBmgZA0

What is the definition of forgiveness?

I want all y'all's opinion on what it is to forgive and what it's like when you forgive someone?
I'd like to know firstly because I think I've discovered that I'm doing it all wrong and secondly because I just find it interesting to know your opinions.

Give me what runs through your head after someone has just majorly insulted you or betrayed your trust and you forgive them. Tell me what you know.
Whether it be Bible verses, experienced based, or something you heard from your neighbor's best friend's sister' aunt who lives in Sweeedland that you think is interesting.
I want to know it.

Feel free to comment even if you opinion has already been articulated or if it differs only by two adjectives of the last comment.
The only thing I don't want to hear is the "right" answer, y'know the one that you've always been taught but haven't put much thought into. Thoughtfulness is the only requirement.

What does forgiveness mean to you? How do you go through the process of forgiving someone?

.....meh. it is a sad day. i watched that last CSI...what was it called?...."leave out all the rest" it confirmed the really bad feeling i got a few episodes ago that Sara was out of the picture for good. . . i read fanfiction everyday for a week or two after. Fellow sad GSR-fans wrote about three or four fic a day about how Sara and Grissom would get back together....meh, i had a feeling tho......

Does art always have to imitate life?
couldn't art just be happy? baaaaah!

shoot. well. i'm sorry sarah. i am a gil grissom goldfish stuck in the mud. i have this fear that the mud is drying up. i spose i never really did answer you.

i have been listening to all these songs that i used to love the lyrics to because they helped me be angry at you. and now i listen to the same songs and can only seem to apply them to myself. i feel so immobile. so stuck. i am out of practice. i can't speak. i can't draw. i can't write. i am stuck. all the things, all those stupid things that i thought would keep you around are looking like raisins. pruney and old...and in my opinion, distasteful.

......i don't feel intuitive....i used to think i was intuitive. i think there's a verse about that.

there is no measure.....to how much i'd love to move on....but i don't know where to and fear everything outside my front door.

k, i think i'm gonna post this before i think better of it.

Of dumb laws and awesome musicals.

I am frustrated.....Some of the Nebraska laws are just idiotic.....mostly because they make me retake tests that I have already taken....for their amusement....and at the taxpayer's expense.

That's not what I got on to tell you. I wanted to say that Elly and I found The Lord of the Rings Musical last night on youtube...and contrary to what most would immediately think, it rocks.
I send you link.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k796JtCVa7k (It is Galadriel singing, about her Lothlorien) And a free download of that song was on their website.

http://www.lotr.com/sights_sounds/audio_player.php

So I was listening to it last night and crying...Because it's soooo beautiful to me. Keeping in mind the artist's discussion this Tuesday, I set about to figure out why it was so beautiful to me.

I have come to the conclusion that firstly the vocals are stunning and the costuming and visual stuff that they do in the clip was so cool...But beyond that, it reminds me of all the places that I love.
Like the woods and how when you enter them it's like entering another dimension because the peacefulness is so profound.
Or Nicaragua, not the most peaceful place, but when I went there, specifically the first time, I was blown away by the beauty of the people and their hearts.
Or my own home and how it is a haven, and whenever I am away for a day or two even, I will be missing it already, and how it is safe and a place of rest where I have family and things of my own that I hold dearly.

I hope that makes sense. I really do.

I believe that's all....I just had to tell you about that.

Peanuts

This is a little fanfic written on a plane on the way back from Nicaragua about a year ago. I found it last night and thought....I just love this. . . . it's not the best quality of writing but given i was sleep deprived...and whatever I have just enough excuses to allow me to feel alright about posting this.

so if you don't know about 24 pretty much all you need to know is it's sweeeet. and it has the greates terror-fighting duo ever in the history of all time!

that's it i think.....cept for this greate picture of Jack Bauer just a little irratated at someone, since i've already showed you Chloe O'Brien above.

so here we go.

Outside the small plane the weather thrashed in an angry violence unprecedented by most other storms over the state of Nebraska. The plane's passengers anxiously gripped the armrests as the flight attendants urged them to relax. The pilots had long ago flipped off the autopilot to battle the wind personally.

All was quiet in the plane aside from the constant screams of random passengers as the plane lurched from side to side, and the bawling woman who was speaking with a priest in the seats 13 A and B which had been converted into a makeshift confession booth.

Jack Bauer was neatly situated beside Chloe O'Brien and was tapping hid foot agitatedly. The had completed a mission on the Mexican boarder and were headed back to headquarters.

“What's wrong?” Chloe asked, completely unaware of how abrasive she sounded, but who worries about sounding sweet when you're on a turbulent plane trip and the person seated beside you looks a little sickly...

Bauer sighed and replied in a harsh whisper, “The haven't served peanuts this entire flight, Chloe.”

“I know we haven't eaten yet, but,” She glanced at a puking business man a few rows back, and then back to her partner's face, slightly perplexed by his response at a time like this, “but, don't you think it's more important to -”

“Chloe!” Jack shouted furiously. “You do not know what it's like spending two years in a Chinese prison! Being tortured every day! All I want are PEANUTS!!!”

“Okay,” Chloe held up her palms defensively, and the stares he had drawn gradually diverted.

“I'll see what I can do, Jack.”

O'Brien rose and went to the stewardess being careful to balance herself.

“Ma'am, I need you to sit down.”

“I just need some -”

“Ma'am, the seatbelt-fastening button is on.”

“Well, I know, but I need -”

“Return to your seat please!”

“FINE!” Chloe screeched, now PO-ed at the frazzled stewardess, but sat back down. “Sorry, Jack she wouldn't even let me ask.”

“That's it!” Jack stood. “Give me your taser, O'Brien!”

“We're on an airplane, Jack, you can't just have a taser!”

Jack said the d-word.

“Sir, I'm going to need you to take a seat.”

“Government agent, lady! Where are your peanuts?” Bauer flashed his badge for good measure.

“Sir, sit daaaahhh,” The stewardess began to repeat herself but Jack preemptively pressured a nerve on her neck and she was unconscious. The passengers yelped.

“Everybody stay calm. I am a government agent.” Jack surveyed the rows of unsettle people and then said, “Chloe, find those peanuts!”

Dancing

Today while mowing the lawn I had the sudden impulse to shirk the rest of the tall grass in favor of busting out in some serious dancing. And since I could not leave the grass uncut, I simply thought about dancing and what it is about it that makes my hair stand on end at just the thought of good music.....

It's not like I am good. However, as Lady Catherine has said, "if I had ever learnt, I should have been a great proficient." *scoffs at self* There is something that to this day, though I do not dance as much, that thrill me about dancing.....

I think it is because when I danced it was me being something other than myself. And every part of me down to my fingers and toes were an extension of what I wanted to portray. Like my arms were the strings and my feet the drums. I felt like I was the music. I was the art.

A little conceited? maybe. But for me it was a lovely dream, something I remember distantly now, that I try to recreate.....But unfortunately, I do not have the stamina anymore to dance for hours......Nor the mind to.

Still, I feel almost the same way while writing fiction. When you create everything down to the color of the sky and the temperature of the air and the taste left in the character's mouth after it eats some good corn chowder. And while you go through the motions of other sections of your life, all you are really seeing is that grey sky, and feeling that cold morning air, and tasting that potato in the chowder....because you are the art.

I was going to go through my myspace blog and find all the youtubes and pick out of those my favorite dance vids....but found only one...and instead of thinking of the videos myself, I started reading my blog.

For me, when I journal or blog it's like I am literally emptying my head, cause afterward I remember very little of what I wrote...But reading through it usually brings it all back. But I was reading through my old stuff and was having some serious issues understanding myself...I was so cryptic and fragmented....

It goes to prove that I am in a different spot now than a year ago, or even half a year. So that is encouraging. I speak a different language now. I have said that no one has really been completely clued in on what all happened in the last few years...but the other night I told some one, like ALL of it. All the gory details...cept for the whole crazy Imaginary part, cause that's just confusing and is like a deeper layer of the onion...

I feel as if it marks the changing of the season. Maybe I am not quite over it yet. Maybe I will always miss portions of my vice that I had, but at the same time, I am free now.....And free means I can move on. It means I can allow myself to be happy again. I can be who I was in Nica. It means I can do the stuff I've always been afraid to. It means I can surround myself with new friends.

So since I've gone off on that little tangent, I will think of the videos now.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W5DDN09A534
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BYGCT4AQIR0
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C9r9sQ6PHOM
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kIOfor7Tnv0

I guess that's all for now....

CSI: Fish tank

About a week ago I decided that my second fish tank was prepared for the acceptance of new fishes. So mom and I ran out to the store (PetCo and not our usual PetSmart because I suspected that the Co would have Female Guppies,) and I purchased four female guppies and two neon tetras.

A week later and only one of those four is still swimming, and even she doesn't look so good....*tear*

It should be noted that I put my three male guppies in with the girls one day after their introduction to their new home....and have since removed them upon discovering that the tails of the deceased fish are bitten, and these boys have a track record of biting each other.....However, it has been suggested that they may have nibbled post-mortem.......

The tetras are looking peachy (they were in the other tank). As are the male guppies, which were successfully transferred to the other tank. I am beginning to believe that perhaps it had nothing to do with the biting, but with the females themselves or with my tank......but then I'd think that the boys would be ill.

I need a guppy coroner.
Time will tell. It depends on whether my last girl survives....

There seems to be many sad things happening lately.....Such as the fish incident, and how CSI ended last Thursday....Other things too, but I can't think of them right now.

MY POINT IN WRITING BEING: please pray for my fish, her name is Judi and I would be ecstatic if she survived, she'd be my second miracle fish.
Technically, I could still take the dead ones back to the store and demand reimbursement...but fishies are not to be bartered with (that is unless you bought a ten dollar fish,) I think it is insensitive....AND so I have humanely flushed two of three...

k, sorry that was prolly boring, but writing it out helps my thought process....though apparently thinking it through does not solve much in this case....
Anyhow, I am listening to some lovely music.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5kWo8N4QNXM

The First Blog on my Bloggiedy-Blog Space

let's try this out.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eSpl_8Wc4dk

It is odd the things you remember......really weird. I don't know why we remember the things we do....odd parts of conversation that are irrelevant to now...

I think this is why I wouldn't mind being a psychologist.

.......I realize.....that right now I am not in the best place. On my note that facebook just erased ever so randomly for me I wrote that I am in the land of "UGH." I guess it's just a season in which I am pretty much discontent with everything. And I am mad at myself for being discontent.

I also realize that I am discontent because I am not where I could be. I could be in Africa, or Israel, or in college.....I could actually be doing something. I don't think a job counts.....That isn't challenging enough. It doesn't stretch my mind.

I am getting to know all these new people...and I want to say "Don't judge my character quite yet, I know I'm a childish freak right now." But I can't say that because character is something that isn't sposed to change.

I'm just too angry and frustrated to care enough to adjust myself completely into social acceptableness. What is life without feeling it, after all. Well that's why I spose I should post a disclaimer saying that whatever I blog about is indeed heart felt, but how I feel is liable to change within the next half of the day.....Or it could be like it is now and I could be stuck in a rut......Point being that eventually, I will get out of that rut. God is faithful like that.

So right now I'm remembering how in school and in Forge I was really close to people who really got me....I could talk in riddles and they'd get it. And, upon my word, I am starving for that again.

I am not so naive as to believe things can be what they were.....I think I torched that....with fear, as matter of fact.

(my dogs stink, reeeeally bad)

perhaps it doesn't matter all that much to have people that understand you. it isn't necessary.

Shoot. Well. Now that I've blabbed for a goodly amount about drabble and nothings, I will tell you about a dream I had, but I'll give you the reader's digest version. sorta.

I was at a museum with a bunch of my friends and people generally my age. There were pictures and sculptures of African people. And U2 was playing on the speakers.......but right next to the museum was a salon type place and it had a ton of jewelery and people were getting their hair done. Everyone, including myself, drifted on over to the salon, not one minute after we'd entered. It was a slip from education and appreciation that other people exist on the planet to a self serving sorta what-can-I-buy-for-me atmosphere....

at least that's how I see it. And, I've heard colors are important (but I remember colors so often....I don't know if I buy it), so the museum walls were brown and the salon was blue.

that's all. i can't think of anything else to write.