June

There's something about Spring in the Northwest that is like a life raft. Through all the months and months of rain and clouds... The rain falls in that Spring fashion, pouring and drowning and washing away before the clouds finally break like a dam, bringing in the Spring.
The effect is immediate and apparent. Flowers clamor to bloom first, bare arms and legs gleam in the light with Summer almost kissing away the pale. People emerge from their shelter, peering into the light, their souls fluttering awake at this glimpse of life. The sun brings us back to ourselves, activates us.
Spring in the Northwest makes me see just why the ancient cultures worshiped the sun, and I begin to wonder why we ever stopped.

My hands :: A poem

my hands
fascinate me

fingers long and thin like
bones
strings of a harp or wind chimes
floating
at the end of my palm with
stuff
stuck under the nails

pale
like my great-grandmother's hands
though hers are soft and old
mine are young, like spiders

my hands are strong

my hands have had many battles
and are scarred
there is even a finger i can't feel
and sometimes i miss it

my hands are maps
some say they could see my future
but i know they can tell my past
and it is from the past the future is made
it is from hands the future is made

i am my hands
they flicker and grasp
they fumble
twist
twirl
reach
pop
stretch
hit
touch
hold

my hands
fascinate me

Here to There

Moving is always one of those events that makes one realize just how many material things one has. Over the years you just keep compiling more and more things- sometimes they hold sentimental value and sometimes it seems like a good idea to have X item but eventually that sentiment or that usefulness fades and you're left with a heap of things you really have no use for.
In short:
I have a lot of shit.

Fortunately, I was forced to pack most of it up into storage and am currently living out of about three boxes in a room that has only very recently become mine. It's a good situation, overall. I needed out of that silly little town anyway and- well hey! Would you look at that. I suppose I found my silver lining after all! Maybe I had to move out of my house and maybe that lent itself considerably to my stress, but I don't live in that silly town anymore!
Ha!
Silver lining indeed!
:)

Either slow down, speed up or get out of the way

You know how you can look back on your life and pinpoint the good phases, the great phases and the not-so-great phases? You see the bad ones and go, "Whoa! What was I thinking? Glad I'm not there anymore!" Well, I'm in the midst of one of those bad phases, made all the worse by the fact that I know I'm in one :/
I've said it before and I'll say it again: I'm through with this phase of my life. This town hasn't been good for me. I don't like to admit it because it seems sad to say out loud, but high school was a very good time for me. I had a lot going on. Great school, great friends, great job. Now? I like school ok, I have a decent job and fewer real friends than I'd like. I tried to make nice, but I don't make friends like everyone else- I'm not a big college party animal. Due to my introverted nature, I tend to feel... off at parties. I can enjoy the company of every person in the room individually, but when we're all together I feel small and misfitted and like I'm just... doing it wrong.
I realize that in this blog I always try to see the good in a situation- to turn a bad day into a learning experience. I've got hope that it'll happen, but right now? All I have is cloud.
I'll let you know when I find the silver lining.

Mental static

Through the aid of media, I am here. In my head. Right now I am cerebral- that's what they call it. I want to view my world and narrate and examine through the filters of knowledge and experience and emotion and reason- and suddenly I think.
Why did I ever stop?
Why did I ever yield to mental static?
Ease?
Apathy?
Depression?
And,
More importantly-
How do I stay here?

Five years

Five years from now. I can see it and I can feel it so clearly. No, well, perhaps clear isn't the right word. Neither is see. I can feel it... vividly. I see only snippets. Flashes of sun in a living room, a wagging tail. A purple couch and a block of knives and a well stocked kitchen and the game systems all set up where me and he will play video games after a great dinner and a long rehearsal.
This is my future. The one in my head, anyway. I can feel it. So close, so attainable, but so far away. I have the feelings inside me- I know I want to be happy and adjusted and loved, but right now all I can do is finish school. I want to learn and graduate, but I want it to have happened already.
Unfortunately for me, school is seeming longer and longer. They say it's about the journey, I know, but right now... I'm tired of the journey. It wearies me. It bores me. It seems like I can't be the person I want to be and do the things I want to do and feel the way I want to feel simply because I'm not there yet. I'm working to get there, but in the process I am longing for the result.
Maybe I can call it motivation. Maybe my vision will drive me to get what I can't have yet. But oh, I want it so bad. I want a job at a school and an apartment and good food and a big dog and a man who loves me and my video games. Mostly in that order, but I'm more or less flexible.
I want my life to start. I'm ready. Bring it.

I dreamed it was snowy, and I was in love :: A poem

I dreamed it was snowy, and I was in love.
The world was cold and I was warm, not the other way around.
I dreamed my skin felt good on me.
I dreamed the dark sky was lit up with tiny flakes
that graced our glowing faces with kisses
We didn't interact, but I knew we were in love.
And I knew he was right there beside me.
I dreamed it was snowy, and I was in love.