Because I've always been good at lists....

.. I use them to remember who I am.

I’m not quite sure who I am anymore. I’ve lost a lot of myself; stretched like thin canvas over too much frame. I’m picking up the puzzle pieces, but not all of them fit, and so I’m doing what feels natural to do – make a list. I’ll try to be as honest as I can.

1.I am calm in emergency situations.
2.I am nostalgic and cherish good memories.
3.I am a hopeless romantic in every sense of the cliché.
4.I never finish anything I start, but I always hope and want to.
5.I get my emotions and frustrations out through writing. Sometimes it’s the only way I can.
6. With enough time and patience, I am able to talk through any problem with someone who understands me.
7. I don’t respond well to violence. Something as simple as an unexpected punch can reduce me to tears.
8. I am overly emotional. I cry at anything that evokes a strong enough emotion, be it anger, passion, love, sadness, or joy.
9.I love music. I love making it (on the piano or singing) and listening to it. There are very few types of music I don’t like.
10.I’m deathly afraid of being ordinary or boring.
11.I like trying new things, but I’m always afraid I’ll be bad at them.
12.I believe I’m beautiful, but I’m ashamed of the weight I am at.
13.I truly want to lose weight, but I feel like the time and effort I put into it will take away time that could be spent with Chris.
14.I love creative, calm activities. Painting, sculpting, scrapbooking, writing in my diary, sketching.
15.I like girly things- painting my nails, going to the spa, doing my makeup and hair, masks and facials.
16.I daydream constantly. Mostly about being more adventurous than I currently am.
17.I’m a natural procrastinator.
18.I like being social, and I like when people like being around me. It bothers me when people who barely know me don’t like me.
19.I miss my grandpa every day. He was the only member of my family I feel I resemble in personality, and the glue that held my family together. I think my life would have been happier if he was still here.
20.I love reading. As long as the plot is captivating and there isn’t too much useless fluff (the Hobbit for example) I’ll read almost anything.
21.I like doing well in school. When I’m succeeding in school a lot of the rest of my life falls into place- I think it’s where I find pride in myself.
22.I am meant to be with Chris no matter how different we are. I know it somewhere so deep it took me a long time to realize it.
23.I like being productive. If I’ve spent an entire day playing games or watching TV I get a little depressed. Even if all I do is organize a drawer or do the dishes I feel better.
24.Being independent is one of my greatest wants. When I can earn enough money to support myself fully it will be a wonderful thing.
25.If I could choose any profession in the world and mold myself to it, I would be a dancer.
26.Most of the time I am mildly depressed. It takes more than just waking up to improve my mood. It would be much easier to be angry or apathetic all day.
27.I get angry when I trust people and they let me down, or are hypocritical.
28.I used to become centered and at peace when I spent time alone, now I just become depressed and frustrated. I wish I could get back to the former.
29.I don’t mind when people underestimate me, but everyone seems to overestimate me, and it only makes me feel like a failure.
30.I am a sore loser. I don’t know why.

I'm just a little black rain cloud...

>

My moods are so color-changing around Christopher. He presses against me and I can feel myself, transparent, revealing sadness, happiness, euphoria in the florescence that leaves its chest and stomach and hand shaped shadows. He can put on his deeper voice, his authoritative demeanor, his strong deep loving eyes, and I can be more in love with him than ever, curling into the shape of him as easily as slipping into a warm bath. Other times he whines, a torrent of shallow drama and feminine games, wanting to be petted and spoiled, and I feel torn. I dream mostly of the men I’ve been with and the idea of all of the sums of their good parts; a boho Odysseus with mischievous eyes and patient hands that shatters my insecurities. The dreams of real men always leave me confused and jittery- like there is a novel-worthy adventure of epic romantic proportions waiting for me if I explored the world with both hands. Other times Chris’s love is everything and the walls that keep my expanding craziness at bay. His love is dark, hardwood, constricting and solid like the hug you need when your life is crumbling away. His common sense is two hands wrapping around my throat, but his unyielding ambition is the phoenix that continues to rise from the ashes, allowing me to sing. The greys and the confusion I see in life; the space between rainbows doesn’t exist for him- he sees only cloud cover. Occasionally I can break through his melancholy with a well placed weekend away, or a perfectly executed Sunday drive when we aren’t broke enough to let it spoil the day.

Lately I’ve been a torrential rain pounding insanely on the pavement. My head aches with the effort, but I can’t seem to stop. Losing a dream is harder than everyone tells you it will be. It is like a death, and an abortion, and a breakup all rolled into one. You feel empty, rejected, and lonely but time seems to tick on, so you’re left scrambling to stitch yourself back together as your wound keeps bleeding. People help. Love helps. But not much. My own brain sabotages my attempts at happiness- I find myself angry and bitter with no cause in sight.

Maybe when the light passes through the clouds I’ll catch a ray and find myself recovering from this seasonal depression of lost ambition. But until then I’ll continue to fling myself against rooftops and sidewalks, knowing that once the rain stops, the smell of clean earth will lift my spirits.

Do I Dream.

Harlequinned memories masquerade themselves
between bedsheets and underneath stuccoed ceilings
like stars they burn the blackness,
and etch their stories with thick fingernails
like the first ray of sun
that sucks the smell of sweet earth after a storm.

Prance and undulate they cry
as a six year old girl with my face
smiles and tugs on my sleeve,
the pungent joy pierces the air,
and she twirls,
oblivious to the reality
that lies just beyond the curtain.

Step left step right
Avoid the diamonds just below
the prom dress rips
and every eye is on every other tear in the fabric
the tears drip across years and fears
unaddressed, adorned in pearls and feathers.

Stumble and you may be lost
His chocolate hair smells familiar like cigarettes,
with a smile that made our winter irrelevant.
brittle branches loiter in the closet
pulled on like clothes that hurt when we got close,
but it is all spring now while daylight plays elsewhere.

But what of the cost of dancing
she screamed to the sequined sandman,
each grain finds its way home and sticks,
breeding malcontent and planting yellow roses,
where there is only concrete and satisfaction.
My heart pays the fare but
do I trust the chariot driver.

Why I will always be glad.

I've decided to go through a bunch of my old writings I've saved up and done nothing with and expose them- they will now be shamelessly naked.

This is a list of reasons why I was glad to be alive. I believe it still applies, and I would like to remain the girl who wrote them down.

1. I'm glad I have morals.
2. I'm glad I don't have to be mean to gain respect.
3. I'm glad I still have compassion and kindness, and retain them after others break down.
4. I'm glad I have a passion for music; that I can let it override my soul and take my problems away.
5. I'm glad I find joy in things that are not man-made.
6. I'm glad I love.
7. I'm glad I trust too much. I would rather place trust in the wrong hands and be let down than never trust at all.
8. I'm glad I am healthy and whole.
9. I'm glad I have never known true hardship.
10. I'm glad I know that men are not the answer to my life.
11. I'm glad I know that women are not the answer to my life.
12. I'm glad I don't care if people decide not to like me.
13. I'm glad I'm not jealous anymore.
14. I'm glad I am insanely loved.
15. I'm glad starbucks makes portable chilled coffee that conveniently shows up in vending machines when I most need it.
16. I'm glad I keep my own secrets, until someone is worth telling.
17. I'm glad I know that even if I lose my friends, I will never lose my God or myself.
18. I'm so glad the world is beautiful, and that I'm not blind to it.
19. I'm glad I have a passion for culture and art, for masterpieces and craftsmanship, for foreign countries and far-off places, even if everyone thinks I'm crazy.
20. I'm glad I found out that sex isn't all its cracked up to be, until you find someone that makes true love all its cracked up to be.
21. I'm glad I occasionally steal my boyfriend's clothes, and he loves it.
22. I'm glad I daydream.
23. I'm glad I have unimaginably unreachable goals.
24. I'm glad I realize that my childhood is over, adulthood isn't far ahead, and my choices are all my own.
25. I'm glad I bite my nails, obsessively pluck my eyebrows, have calloused feet and am overweight. If I was perfect, it would be like starting life at the finish line.
26. I'm glad I have people that understand me. It makes all the difference when you're at the bottom of a hole you dug yourself.
27. I'm glad I like to be clean.
28. I'm glad someone invented slightly flavored water. I don't know why.
29. I'm glad I can light incense and a perfect path to who I want to be forms in my head.
30. I'm glad I don't have to fit any kind of mold. Living an unexpected life makes everything special.

Back! *Now with Poetry*

2/18/2009

I look around for the source of laughter,
Expecting your face,
Sharing every moment
But now
My own perfect independence
Is bruised with loneliness

In longing my fingers trace
The shadows where your face belongs
They know its familiar curves
Better than i

The words I use pale
The sun grows dim
Without the muse that brings
Brilliant color to a faded everyday

The warmth of you still clings
To my clothes
And calms the icy thoughts
That frost the edges of my smile

I am half.
I am missing.
I am lost.

In this world of freedom
I am malcontent
Until I can again press my lips
To every freckle
And know neither of us has to be alone.