Bring in the New Year

2009, look what you’ve done to me? Until recently, you were about to end on a bad note, my friend.

2009, you have put me through so much. In your year, you have given me broken friendships, broken dreams, broken hearts and broken spirits. But guess what? I got mad healing powers, dawg. Even with all the shit and tears you’ve given me this year, I’ve pulled through with some good times too. Isn’t it good to know that the small good times still count amongst the bad ones? 2009, you’ve given me hell, but you’ve also given me smiles and laughter and hope and recovery and happiness. You’ve given me that, too.

Looking back on this year, the things that stick out the most to me are, I’ll admit, the bad ones.

Looking back on Last Minute, the things I remember are the hurt and the anger and the jealousy. I remember how my best friends turned on me and how they were too cowardly to be straightforward with it. I remember our summer of shows and how I felt unwanted at each one. I remember how my thoughts and ideas and feelings were pushed aside and how my opinions stopped mattering to the people who mattered to me the most. I remember how Ryan stopped asking what was wrong when he knew I was sad and how he stopped calling to hang out. I remember how they asked me not to play in a show. I remember how I left the warehouse that day in tears and started walking to my house, even though it was about two hours away on foot. I remember how for the first time in what seemed like forever, Ryan tried to comfort me, did he not realize he was the one ruining me? When I think about the band now, I don’t think about all the good stuff that used to be. Now I think about how all the good stuff is tainted by the bad memories. Now I think about all the times I was laughing and they weren’t. I think about how I can’t listen to those songs anymore. Things should be better now but their not. Ryan, I hate you for what you did to me and I miss who you used to be. I don’t know where we go from here.

Looking back on what I did to Eliza, I wish I could take it all back. None of it was worth it, none of it should have happened. I lost a best friend’s trust, trust in myself, and a lot of dignity. It was not worth it. That’s all there is to say.

Looking back on Max’s death, my heart is filled with anger and frustration and disbelief. I remember everything that happened this summer and how hurt and stressed and terrified your family was. I remember how Peg and I tried to talk to you and you gave us denial and slurred words. I don’t understand but I just wish you could have. I’m sorry that everything went the way it did Maxy boy, and I hope you can find forgiveness wherever you are now. We all miss you Max. Please send strength to your family, because you owe them that.


2009, you’ve been a doozie, but like I said, I’ve had the good times too.

I’ve broken away from my dependence on the band, I’ve taught myself guitar! I’ve made music my own, I’ve written songs that express my every emotion and I don’t need anyone in order to play them, just me, just the way I need it to be.

I’ve created an incredible bond with a group of incredible girls that I know have my back just as any teammate should, and just as I have theirs. This season of water polo is impossible to describe. I have shared so many smiles, such good laughs and so much love with that team and I can’t even begin to explain the adoration and respect I have for each of them. Only with that group of girls could it be possible for me to enjoy and look forward to morning practice. Only with that group of girls could I still be happy despite missing my final game for a stupid broken finger. They are amazing and the essence of happiness and joy in this world.

I’ve made an imprint on my school! Who would have thunk it too, I thought I was invisible. But no, people actually know who I am! Winning homecoming queen this year was an incredible feeling. Truly. It feels good to be liked. :) And at the end of a hard water polo season, the biggest reward was to be given MVP, thank you to my wopo girlies for supporting me.

I have amazing friends. Although we all have our ups and downs, I know they are good people who are there for me. I have strengthened so many old friendships and gained so many new ones and I am so happy and thankful for every one of them.

I’ve got me a boy :) And he is wonderful. And I am so happy.



So 2009, you have sucked and you have rocked but, all in all, I am very glad to see you go. Bring it on 2010, and prepare to be rocked.

December 23rd

December 23rd and the ice skating rink is packed. People are hurrying to learn how to glide gracefully on their new feet and only laughter is heard when someone falls. Not a single tear, not a single sob, just smiles. Although away from home, you see old friends and familiar faces. The spirit is fun, the environment is happy and the windows let in bright warm beams of light that convince you it’s not winter.
December 23rd walking around the city and the place is crowded. You see more faces you know, greeting each with a smile and an exuberant wave. The wide sidewalks are packed with people in long coats, scarves, gloves, and hats, each carrying numerous shopping bags in various sizes. A tall, thin woman with perfect posture manages to squeeze inconspicuously through the throng of people without much effort, her extravagant eye makeup giving her away as a Nutcracker ballerina. People of all ages press their noses to the glass of the Macy’s windows like children, just to see the sweetly sleeping puppies and kittens up for adoption inside. As the sun fades, group of shoppers overcome with the joyful spirit stop their uphill trek, drop their bags, and give in to the gospel music that has been pounding from inside their chests. Their bold and broad voices soar out into the brisk air and their faces ask not for coins, but for smiles.
December 23rd and everything is beautiful. With big hugs goodbye, it’s time to go home. A slow walk back to the ferry is the perfect way to soak up the last bits of city life before returning to a bed in suburbia. The lights on the buildings are strings of white against an ink black sky. Trees inside lobbies tower over check-in desks with glittery ornaments and oversize bows. Although the crowd has been left behind, the spirit still lingers, laughter rising up over the street lamps and tall windows. A lonely saxophonist closes his eyes as he blows out the notes of Silent Night with a gentle passion. The notes ring out flawlessly and the night is silent.

snapshots in fastforward

happiness seems like a sideways destination right now. i can't really see it as an incoming event unless i look for it. i have nothing to look forward to right now. all the things that make me happy in a moment, an hour, a day, they fade away once the time has passed.
i wonder if it's the confusion i have about liking this guy. knowing that i do, but wondering if i should. i think it's going somewhere, but i don't know if that's a good idea. once again, my trust issues are coming into play.
i also think that i'm just loosing the structure of my life. without water polo, and it breaks my heart to think that i won't play on that team again,everything has kind of fallen apart. it feels strangely intruding to have the free time now. nothing to fill it up with, but i'm still too busy to hang out with friends. how does that work?
i think i just need to get outside! go for a run! reconnect with the things i love: nature, photography, sunshine, laughter.
i'm falling into that slump of not knowing where i fit in again. not with the friends doing drugs, not with the friends partying everyday, not with the friend whose trust i betrayed, not with the friends who forced me out of the group i loved. who is left? i know who is left, but something is missing there, none of them have ever been my best friends and now is not the time to find a new person to care for, not when this stage of life is almost over.
maybe that's why i'm depending on and worrying about this boy so much, because he would be a friend too. but still...
"tomorrow," i tell myself, "tomorrow i will pick back up in my life, right where i left off."
maybe tomorrow i will, but most likely tomorrow i won't. i need to step it up if i want things to change though.

senior year is an interesting thing. everybody has come into themselves. i can easily see how each person in my class is going to fit into the world now. most of the awkward has faded away, most of the judgment has been left behind, i see them in the world, being real people. it's odd,it's like seeing your baby cousins grow up. you didn't notice the time passing until all of a sudden the baby is a toddler and the toddler is a little girl and the little girl is a vibrant and humorous light in your life.
but with your classmates it's still a little different. you realize suddenly that, all along, you've used them to gauge things in your life. "oh, she's the type of girl to hang out with so-and-so" or "they're the nerdy bunch" or "she's one of the hotties of our grade." but now, MOST of the girls in my class are hotties. they are gorgeous young women and it makes me smile to realize how much we have all transformed. and the boys too. when did they grow? when did they become the "senior boys" that are notoriously lusted after by the underclassmen?? it happened without anyone noticing. it's all pretty marvelous really.

so, things are at a bit of a standstill. stuck in abyss of sludgy hopes for progress and the realization that the fastforward button has just been switched back to plat. it's time to catch up, it's time to buckle down and make something happen. it's time to stop watching, waiting and wondering and start doing.

venting

I don’t know where the days have gone...where the time has gone. It just all seems so endless. Endlessly thumping along. I want a break, a real break. This week has just been more of the same, only less…emotional. I would almost rather have all the sadness and pain though, cause it’s still better than nothing.
I’m being consumed by the expectations of my life.
Go to school
Do your work
Get enough sleep
Exercise
Do your work from last week
Go to class at COM
Don’t forget to call this person
Check in with that person

This is a “break,” except that it’s not. Psh. I am tired but restless. I am bored but unwilling to do anything.
I went to the beach today, this cool little secluded beach tucked away in the headlands. It was beautiful. It was such a release! And the weather was perfect. Sunny but cool and breezy. It was amazing. It was so refreshing to be out of the house and into the sun and dipping my feet in the water. I think it’s the first I’ve been out in days. And all of this wonderful sunny happiness only lasted a few hours. I need a full day of it. I need a full week of it. I need to be out and about, in the trees, in the air, in the sun. maybe I’ll go for some hikes this next week. If only I can fit it into my schedule.
I need to catch up on so much, on everything it seems. I wish some of it would work itself out on it’s own.

RIP Maxy boy

oh max, what is happening? this wasn't supposed to happen. not to your family, not to you. i hate to see them cry. they have been my family for as long as my mother and father. you and i grew up together, and look, neither of us are even done.
i can't believe you're gone. i can't wrap my head around it.

I spent the day at your house. peg's doing well, she's talking about it and coping. your dad is an empty shell. he's helpless, max. you've put him through so much, i don't know how much more he can take. his face didn't change all day, he's just empty.
your mom doesn't believe it. she stills thinks you'll come walking in at any moment. she's going to see you tomorrow because she still doesn't believe it.
i spent the day with pei ja. max, that little girl meant the world to you. you meant the world to that little girl. her world has been turned upside down max. she doesn't know how to cope with this in any way, and she's scared to not have her mom and dad available to help her through it. i held her hand all day, we hadour arms around each other everywhere we went. i told her that it was okay to cry but that it was also okay to have fun and laugh and smile. she said she was worried, because she couldn't cry but she didn't want to dishonor you. we talked and talked. and when she cried, i held her in my arms. she doesn't know what to do max. she doesn't know how to act without you.
i'm trying not to take my tears and turn them into anger. i'm trying not to let those thoughts in. but i AM mad. i am mad at you for putting them through this and i am mad at you for letting it go this far.
but mostly maxyboy, i'm sorry to see this day. i'm sorry that whatever road you took ended here and i'm sorry that it ended so soon.
i have so many good memories of you max, so many. like i've said, we grew up together.
i'm so sorry to see you go.

Rest In Peace Max.

this can't be happening.

where is my mind?
this is unreal. so painfully unwelcome.

A girl like me.

I saw that girl today, the one who sits in class and stares into space.
I think she's got something on her mind. I always see her sitting perfectly still, thinking to herself, when all of a sudden, she makes a quick motion to pull out a small, worn paper journal and writes frantically. The journal is the color of a camel, a bland brown, but it has doodles in the corner and some words scrawled diagonally across the front. I wonder if anyone but her knows what's in there.

I saw that girl today, the lonely one. she laughs along with the jokes her friends tell but i don't think she knows which ones she can actually trust. I wonder who she calls when she needs to talk.

I saw that girl today, the one with the green bike. She rides that bike everywhere. I didn't envy her for it at first, but now i wish i could feel the wind on my face like that. i'm jealous of her windblown curls and her pink-from-the-cold cheeks.

I saw that girl today, the one who has too much on her plate. she was holding her breath. she was counting.

I saw that girl today, the one with invisible burdens piled high on her back. she was riding her bike home, her face red with emotion, her eyes puffy and wet.

I saw that girl today, the one who wishes it would rain. She likes to walk in the rain, to let it rinse her life completely, if only for an hour or two.

I'm not going out today, but can you give her a message for me if you see her? Tell her it will all be ok in the end. Tell her that things always get better. Tell her she's not as alone as she might feel. Tell her I said hi.

wishes falling to the wayside

i am filled with wishes.
not the good kind, but the regretful kind, the sorrowful kind.

i wish i had protected myself from this better. I wish i wasn't so eager to be close with the wrong people. i wish i knew what i wanted out of all of this. i wish things never got bad between us, we used to be best friends.

and i wish that that last wish didn't apply to so many people.

and i'm wishing that i hadn't felt the need to open up. i like opening up to people, but i also like keeping myself a mystery. i like knowing more about myself than anyone else does. i like having my places to write and my songs to sing, knowing that they will not be read or heard. i wish that i had kept that. i wish that i hadn't given that up.

i wish that i knew how to fix things in my own life. i wish that i wasn't always the pioneer of experience in my world. i wish that someone could relate to my problems, rather than always me relating to theirs. i wish that i wasn't so alone.

it would be nice to feel warm. to feel comfortable and needed. i am needed, but in cold, routine ways. i am not vital to anyone. they don't need me like i need them. i have not been warm in days.

i wish i could create. i wish i had time. i wish my wishes were heard. i miss the leisure that brings art. the time that gives my heart the self propelling urgency to produce. the time that gives my mind a chance to breathe.

the water was cold today. i took it for granted. i didn't dive in. i scampered and jumped and fell and tumbled. but i didn't give myself to the water. i should have dove in. i should have remembered my need to be washed over, to refresh myself, my body, my mind. i should have closed my eyes and taken that moment to cleanse. i should have dove in.

i wish that i could stretch out in the sun. i wish i could stretch my sore and tense muscles. my tense back, my tense shoulders, my tense arms. my neck. my chest.
i wish body i used to know would kick into action and streeeeetch, but the muscles have forgotten, they have grow strong and hard. they have grown ready for a fight. they have grown ready to defend.

my memories are falling to the wayside. all that has mattered seems trivial now. they seem useless. they seem abandoned. i wish someone would pick them up, dust them off and apologize.

i think i'm done

perhaps i understand a grudge now. i'm beginning to think that a grudge is often more accurately described as "permanently hurt feelings," though that sounds a bit childish.

but i think i get it now.
because that is what i have.

and i'll tell you what i don't have when it comes to you:
reason
SENSIBILITY
clarity

and that's why i still give you, time and again, my
emotions
faith
HOPE
advice
friendship
HEART
love
time


but i'm nearing the edge of the water here. i'm trying to get the sound of your empty words out of my hopeful mind and my still so empty chest. i've tried to fill that emptiness with your words one too many times, and i'm starving as a i watch them fall through the holes you've left in me. you gave me those holes. you left them behind so that you could drop your intentions through them right in front of my eyes.
why can't i patch them up...? i hate watching the pieces fall.

you're a tangle of string in my mind. i want to figure you out, to work out the knots, or to just get rid of you, dump you for someone else to happen across. but to be able to untangle this knot would be the greatest triumph, the greatest reward.
when i try to make distance though, your tendrils wrap around me and hang on, keeping a sulky distance yet becoming the intruder of my thoughts. i want you out. i want you gone. i want to be done with you, but you won't go. when i try to get rid of you, you always stay.

JIGSAW: the first 140 pieces.

I am jumbled, oh so jumbled inside.
how can a few caring words turn everything that already didn't make sense into something that has me teetering on the brink of insanity?
it feels right
it felt right.
will it continue to feel right?
who knows. i sure don't. i just wish there was a way to uncomplicate it all. to make things the way they should be.
but if things were "uncomplicated," none of it would have happened at all. it's either complicated or nothing, so which would i choose?
i just don't know. maybe i choose none of it, but it really breaks me up to think that. because despite all the bad things that have come from this situation, what you've given me is beautiful.
you said it felt right. and it did. we both know it did.

The Wackness

i just watched a movie that was so beautiful and so heartbreakingly honest that i will inevitably carry it with me through the rest of my life. the movie is called The Wackness. it's amazing. it's real and vulnerable and forgiving. ah, it's just incredible.

i've always loved movies, i think maybe more, or at least in a different way, than the next person. and this movie, wow, this movie really makes me want to live my life taking in every moment possible, making sure not to miss a second.

and the soundtrack is perfect.

it sounds cliche, but movies and music are a huge part of my life.
music fixes me when i'm broken, fills in the cracks of life, and morphs to always make sense, but never leaves me behind. but movies, they make you look at things in a new way, they show you what someone else is seeing, even if you've always been blind to it. they are like music, only the words are conversations and the melodies are pictures.

i was talking to my friend about this, and he feels the same way, only for him, it's not music, it's books.
"It's a place you can truly escape in and help create. ... movies are amazing because it is a true artistry to make people feel raw emotion for fictional characters that they have never met."

That is exactly it. books allow you to project yourself into the story, make it wrap itself around you to make perfect sense in the way that you need it to, but movies project themselves onto you. they make you a part of them and they make you care and feel and experience and understand.

that's why i love to write. i like the concept of giving my ideas and thoughts to the world for them to make mean something for themselves. i want to interact with the world around me, and i want it to interact with me in turn. this blog, no one knew of it at first, but over the years, i've slowly allowed people to see into my world through it. and only this summer have i put any real thoughts into it. it's scary for me to share these words with people i know, people i'm close with. in so many ways, i am so much more comfortable opening up to strangers. with my music, i would play my songs for a crowd of 1,000 strangers over a much smaller group of people i know any day. i wish i knew why.

the world is full of ideas and words needing to be shared and heard and projected. movies and music and books, they are all here for just that. they are all here to give people the chance and ability to spit their brains out into society and hold their breath for the response. and the best part is: even is the response isn't what you wished for, it's hard not to feel good about it, because either way, you needed to spit.

"family matters"

my older brother also has a blog. although he may or may not know this, i follow his blog, and today i was looking through the titles of some of his older posts and found one titled "family matters"
being the little sister that i am, eager to discover how my brother really feels about me and never quite prepared for it when i get the upsetting reality check that hits me in the face each time, i skimmed through the article to see if and how my brother would include me in his blog that explores "family matters" (no pun intended).

my caring brother did so by leading from a description of his wonderful hike with my mother into:

We had to turn around at the top because my sister's band was going to Fresno to play a show and she needed to bum a ride somewhere. Anyway...

and that was all.
once again, i got my hopes up with him and let myself get hurt that he doesn't admire me quite the same way that i admire him.

but that was on father's day weekend, time has passed. he's back home again for the rest of the summer and we've been hanging out a good amount here and there. we went on a hike together and played guitar hero and today, we bonded over a number of things.

i was cleaning my room and mikey came running in with a wild excitement in his eyes. he told me that i had to come quick. i trotted back to his room with him and found his computer open on the bed, the screen displaying a paused image from a season 3 episode of HEROES. he throws himself at the corner of the bed and props himself up, elbows on the bed, knees on the floor. i mimic his position and together we watch one and half episodes, taking pause breaks to allow him to fill me in on character backgrounds and previous events in the show.

while we were sitting there, i mentioned that i had seen an old friend of his at the party i had attended the night before. he then asked it i drank when i went to parties. i told him that i did.
he's known me to drink before, but i think he wondered if i still did, or if i did often, or if i did so safely.
he then asked if i drank too much at parties. i told him that i never drink too much, always just enough. he laughed and said, "i always drink too much."
we laughed together and talked openly about our experiences and what each of us had thought that the other did. i think that all this time, we both wondered and now we were talking about it so openly, it was refreshing.

then, later this evening. i came home and was sitting here in front of the computer. he came into the office and asked if he could get my advice on something. i told him sure thing, knowing what it would be.
you see, he had mentioned meeting a girl at a party last week and he had tried to talk with me about it then, but he hadn't done a great job. he had started to explain things to me, then he got uncomfortable thinking about certain important details and said something like, "i shouldn't be talking to you about things like this." but the issue was that the girl's phone was broken or lost or something and he didn't know how to reconnect with her.

so tonight, he comes in here and asks me for advice. he first told me the more honest and full story of what had happened when he hooked up with this girl. then he filled me in on the present situation: the girl had texted him and he needed help, from a girl's perspective, to figure out what were good responses to the tricky messages she was sending.
i'll spare you the ins and outs of the text conversation he then had with the girl, but in the end, he was pleased with my help and he felt very hopeful.
when we were done i was about to ask for his help with MY guy problems, but right then dad walked in and ruined the party.

i didn't want to push it, so i didn't remind him that i had asked for advice aswell. but later on, he wandered back in here and said, "hey, i just realized i never gave you the chance to ask my advice on whatever it was you wanted to talk about." i told him it could wait and we could talk about it later and he seemed pleased by that answer and poised for bed.

so, i don't really know what the ending of this post is meant to be. i want it to be that my bro and i are now closer and will continue to grow in that direction, and who knows, maybe that's exactly what it is, but i'm afraid that the real ending is that Zoe is once again getting her hopes up with her relationship with her brother and will once again be hurt when things aren't what she thought they were. but i think that, if things ARE to get more open with us, today was a good start.

ironic, isn't it.
i'm writing this post, all about my dear sweet brother, all because his "family matters" post was severely LACKING in my presence. hah. seems to work out that way all too often.

the accident

Screeching wheels. Bang. Silence.
Voices, then sirens.
Footsteps, running footsteps.
Open the driver’s door, ask her if she’s hurt. She says no.
Ask her if she knows what happened, she says no.
Ask me! I know! We’ve been in a car accident! Why won’t you ask me? Why won’t you help me? My body hurts. My head hurts. My eyes are closed.
You come to my door. Open it up. Ask me if I can hear you. I can. You tell the other man that you have an “unresponsive.” Are you talking about me? But I can hear you!
You poke me and squeeze my shoulders. Stop that! You repeat that you have an “unresponsive.” My head hurts.
You feel my joints, listing them as you go, telling the other man that I am not broken. But I’m starting to think I am. I must be broken. I can hear you, but you can’t hear me.
You turn my head back and forth. You tell the other man that I have a “lac” to the back of my head and another “lac” to the front of my head. You say that I’m bleeding from my ears.
You lift my head up to shove something stiff behind my neck. Once secured, I can’t move my neck. Actually, I don’t know if I can move anything.
You try to lift me. You get inside the car on top of me to move me onto a hard surface waiting outside. You strap me down. You tape my legs and my chin. I can’t move. My head hurts.
I’m moving fast. I feel like I should be rolling off of this cart and onto the ground, but I’m taped down. I can’t move.
I’m lifted, I’m scooted, I’m in an ambulance. The siren goes and we’re moving again.
You tape an oxygen mask to my face and put heart monitor stickers on my chest. You stick an IV in my hand. My friend is here too, she’s asking if I’ll be okay. Don’t worry! I’ll be okay! Stop crying! Once I can talk and move and tell them what happened, I’ll be okay!
You pull me out and rush me into the hospital, handing me over to new voices. Why can’t I open my eyes? I’m wheeled quickly through hallways. I can’t move. I can’t open my eyes.
They push me into a room and stop. Four sets of hands work on my at once. Taping things everywhere. More stickers. A plastic bracelet. Gauze.
A tube is forced down my throat. Why are you doing that? It doesn’t feel good! Someone is squeezing air down the tube now, forcing my chest to rise and fall. Can’t I do that on my own? Is this all really necessary? If I could just open my eyes and talk to you this would all be over with!
More hands are working on me, hooking me up to machines. Taking tests. Applying pressure. A woman’s voice asks if she should try to contact my parents. No, don’t call them, this’ll just worry them, I’m fine, just let me wake up now. She leaves.
The hands stop, one set at a time. Only the hand that is pumping air down the tube to my lungs stays. A voice talks to me. What happened to you, it asks. I try to tell it, but it won’t hear me. I try to tell it that I was in a car accident. That I think I hit my head. That my head hurts. It can’t hear me. The hand just keeps pumping air.
Footsteps. A woman’s voice tells my nurse that my dad has arrived. No, please don’t bring him in here. Please don’t show him this. This will break his heart. Please don’t. He can’t handle this. He won’t understand. Wait until I’m awake so that I can explain everything to him and tell him that I’ll be alright. Wait until I’m awake so that I can hold his hand and make him feel better. Please don’t bring him in now. Please don’t.
I hear uneven footsteps in the hallway. I know those footsteps. I’ve heard those footsteps a million times. They belong to my dad. I don’t like hearing them here. I said not to bring him in here. Why didn’t you listen! Why can’t you hear me!
The broken walk comes through the door, accompanied by broken breathing. I can smell the salt of tears. No, don’t cry Daddy, please don’t cry, I’m alright.
Oh Zoe, he says, his voice soft and watery. What happened, he asks. The nurse tells him that I was in a car accident. That I have severe bleeding in the brain. That I’m brain dead. What? That’s not true! I can hear you! I’m fine! Daddy, I’m fine! Please wake me up now, I’m done with this, wake me up!
Is there any hope of recovery, he asks. They tell him no.
No, this is ridiculous! I’m just hurt! I just hit my head! I’m going to wake up any minute now. I’m going to wake up and prove them wrong. I’m not done, Daddy. I’m not done with you and Mom. I’m not done giving you hugs. I’m not done running and laughing and smiling. I’m not done living. I’m not done loving you.
He searches for my hand and squeezes it. My heart crumbles. The sounds of the machines seems further away than I remember. I can’t taste and smell the salt of his tears in the air anymore. I can’t quite hear his shaking breath as well as I thought I could. Maybe they’re right. Maybe I’m dying. Maybe it’s all worse than I’d thought.
But I’m not done. This isn’t fair. Daddy, this isn’t fair. I’m sorry. Please don’t cry. I’m so sorry. I love you, Daddy.

these days

the days are trying to stop me from believing.
these past few have been hard to deal with. hard to get through. hard to make decisions in.
i feel like i'm in between everything. i'm exhausted, my soul is worn out, but i can't stay at home, i just have to get out of this house sometimes. and when there's nowhere to go?...when there's nowhere to go i feel cramped in my chest. i wander about with an empty face. i don't find humor in things that i should think are funny. i'm difficult to be around.

i want to draw. to be able to draw. to feel comfortable enough to not care whether or not i know how to draw.
i want to sketch, to design.

i wrote a song today, it's almost finished. and i love it. i haven't written a song like that in quite awhile. it felt good. it felt very good to be writing again. but how funny is that? once again, the music comes with the mood. but only in a version of itself today. i'm not depresed, no siree, but not happy either. and my song isn't depressing in the slightest, it's very cute actually.

i'm tired. i'm going to go to sleep, everything will be better after some sleep.
tomorrow, please don't break me.

my new button

loading...loading...loading...
REFRESH
loading...loading...loading...
REFRESH

i am adopting a new thing into my life today. it's called the REFRESH button. i spend all this time loading...loading...loading... and all to often to i receive the FAILED ATTEMPT message. so now, when i have been loading...loading...loading... for too long, or when i get the FAILED ATTEMPT message, i will simply REFRESH.

...REFRESH.

trust

I used to have only one strong thought about trust. I always felt that trust was a mutual agreement. a handshake, a bargain, a kinship. i felt that the truest way to know whether or not you could trust someone was to discover whether or not they trust you. if they confide in you, they have stretched out their hand to you. and that is when you know that you can confide in them, and take their hand and make a promise to one another.

but now, i feel differently. i suppose there is still some truth in my old thought, but i really don't prefer it. after what i've gone through recently, i understand trust in a different way. and, looking back on my old thought of trust, it feels too conniving, too sneaky, too UNtrustworthy. but i also see now, how trust IS a sneaky and conniving thing in a lot of ways.

i had always been big on trust, but not long ago, i made one severe mistake that broke the trust a good friend had in me. i hurt her terribly with my actions and i knew right then that her trust in me had been lost.
the funny thing though, is that i lost trust in her, too. maybe it was because of that mutual agreement that i mentioned before. because since i had backed out of the agreement, i knew that she didn't have to live by it either. and the odds are that she didn't want to anymore either.
which only strengthens my new feeling that trust IS a sport of deceit. trust is a veil laid down to cover the things that are meant to be hidden. and people tend to respect that, but the reality is that that veil can in fact be pulled away at any moment.
but i think that a big reason that i felt a loss of trust in her was because i was really feeling a loss of trust in myself. i was angry with myself for betraying a friend. i, too, was hurting as a result of my actions.
and a small part of me felt betrayed by her lack of forgiveness. the bigger part of me understood that i was the one who had done wrong, that i was the one to blame for the separation, but that small part of me felt hurt that the previous years of our beautiful friendship meant nothing after just a moment of bad judgment.

we're talking again, and we're getting better, slowly mending what was broken. as we slowly regrow i feel more trusting toward her again, but still, my heart breaks when i let myself be reminded of how i hurt her.

trust has always been meaningful to me. it's always helped me sort out my true friends from my non-true friends. but having been the one to break the trust, i have learned a lesson. as i work towards gaining my friend's trust back and gaining my own trust back, i have realized that in the end, i AM a true friend. i have always been a good friend to the people around me and i have always done my best to honor and uphold the relationships i have with people. i have realized that, if i were not a true friend, i would not be taking the hard and painful path to forgiveness, but rather would be walking away.

i am not saying that what i did should be forgotten because of who i am, i'm only saying that, in the end, my good should overcome my bad.

trust is a tricky thing to pinpoint, and i know that i am not even close to getting it, but i do know that it's different than it appears. it's not just a handshake, it's much deeper, but at the same time, much thinner, much easier to wrinkle.

just my luck

once again. wrong guy, wrong time.
like one guy, he likes my friend.
another guy hits on me, i'm not interested.
old fling starts talking again, i don't know how to act, don't know how i feel, don't know if i want to get re-involved.
wrong guy, wrong time. that should be my moto.
or maybe it's just my curse.

the backyard

I've decided to go outside. it's the first time i've been outside today.
i spent the whole day today on the computer, watching tv, playing guitar, recording songs, trying to write lyrics...all hoping for inspiration.
and now i'm outside. i'm reflecting. i'm thinking and observing and feeling.
it's that wonderful time of day. that time that only lasts from about 6 to 7. the sun has retreated just enough to cast splashes of light all across the very green backyard. the wind is rustling around in the leaves and the neighbor's wind chime is playfully adding to the song. there are birds calling out in happy late day melodies and the cats are lounging lazily in the grass, looking around for any bit of action to partake in.
all of this comes and goes in bursts though. a breeze will roll through, picking up the stray hairs from my bun and making them dance around my face, and in that gust, everything seems to be moving in it's own way, the wind whispering to everything that it touches. the chimes pick up, the leaves bump against each other and everything wakes up, even for just a moment. as the breeze passes, my ears stretch further away. now i can hear the children playing in yards down the street, the car starting it's engine around the corner, the dogs barking to each other through wooden fences. i can hear the conversations of people walking by the front of the house, my secret pair of ears picking up on the words that they think are private.
another breeze. chimes. leaves.

i am happy out here. happier than i've been in days, maybe even longer than that. i always feel happy out here. but i don't come outside to enjoy it enough. it scares me a little, to be left with just my mind. i'm used to writing things down, to making rhymes and tunes of them. but sometimes there is no tune to be had, or no tune perfect enough to capture what is in need of capture. so i stay inside and numb myself to my mind, giving it excuses and distractions to protect it from itself.

i came out here to begin with in search of inspiration, or perhaps just a change of scenery. i sat here and observed. as i observed i tried to discover a tune, a rhyme, something to write down. i tried to think of a way to put this beautiful yard and it's beautiful sounds into a beautiful song, something that would sooth the ears of a tired heart.

i didn't find that tune, or that rhyme, and in not finding them i became anxious. i used to explore everything through tunes and rhymes, tunes and rhymes, how could i fully appreciate something without putting it into a tune or rhyme? how could i process something without taking it in and pushing it back out in a new form, in my own form, in the perfect melody?

when did creating music become a burden? an obligation? it's supposed to spill onto paper, spill out of my heart and onto a piece of paper. that's part of the magic of it, the way that it always spilled out. i never had to ask for it, it would come without warning and there would be nothing i could do to stop it.

i don't know where that went. i think it left at the same time as my sadness did. it's funny how the two things went hand in hand so easily, so effortlessly. they were twins actually, born at the same time, but each with a unique personality. or perhaps they were more soul mates, opposites complimenting one another's differences, filling in the gaps for one another.
depression created the music, the music filled the gaps left by the depression.
they loved each other. in a bittersweet way that would have been impossible to describe.

and in a way, i loved them too. although at the time i didn't realize it. depression was breaking me and music was gluing me back together. the same thing over and over again. broken and glued, broken and glued.
but i loved the music. the heart-breaking tunes built off of honesty, longing and hurt. and since i loved the music, i loved the darkness, they were so inseparable. they came together and they left together.

it's funny how that darkness left me though. it engulfed me for so long. i thought i was alone and numb, when really i was pushing people away and feeling everything. that's why the music came too, it was my feelings working overboard.
now is the real numbness. the depression is gone, the constant sadness, the darkness, the hole, but there hasn't really been happiness to replace it. i've cried all my tears but i haven't laughed that first laugh yet. i'm in limbo, stuck somewhere in between.

and i think that's why i'm afraid to be left alone with my own mind. because my mind and my heart long to be back in that hole, feeling everything, because they don't know how to feel anything now. so my mind wanders and bounces around from reason to reason. reasons why i can't feel. reasons why this "in between" is so much worse than the darkness. reasons why i haven't had that "after crying laugh" yet. reasons why i wish things were different.

but it's hard to look at all those reasons, think about them all and let them marinate in my brain. it's hard to let myself go there, to let myself take things for granted, to wish that the good things were gone just so i could selfishly return to my isolation. and that's why i try to busy myself with the old writing and rhyming. the old spill your heart onto paper. maybe i need to adapt. maybe it's time to embrace limbo and hang on tight so that when i reach that first laugh, it'll be well appreciated, it will be noticed. maybe i need to break away from sad lyrics and heartbroken melodies. maybe it's time for a new approach.

i'm still out here in the backyard. it's different now though. the sun has retreated even further, leaving the last splashes of light far behind me. the sprinkler's have come on, drowning out the delicate sounds. someone inside has flicked on the tv and started cooking in the kitchen, more sounds that fit the next signature song of the day. it's past 7 now, so my favorite part of this soundtrack is over. we're on to the next song, the next chapter. i'm going to work on turning my own page to the next chapter as well.