Perhaps a bit hasty...

After giving my situation considerable more thought, and nearly bursting into tears a few times at work, I have decided I may have been a bit hasty. I did consider all of my options, but not for long enough. I know now that I can't stay home this winter. I need my family more now than I ever have. I will need support soon, and I won't get it if I close myself up. So I'll take the days I've requested off and drive with my parents to Canada. While I'm there I'll pretend like everything is okay, and maybe I'll convince myself, too. Hell... maybe it will be. Who knows.
I'll keep my mouth shut on the ride there and back so as to avoid... well, to avoid talking. And I won't let there be any fighting. So what if my brother and I both want to drive- I won't push it, I'll have plenty of time for that later. I doubt we'll fight much, though- he'll be wrapped up in his girlfriend. If space is too tight once we pick them up, whatever. It'll only be a few hours until we reach Ottawa from Boston. I think the perks of seeing my cousins outweigh the downfall of the trip there. Also, I found out my Grandmother is only staying with us for a few weeks. If she's coming at the end of January then she's here with us through February. This means that by March she's back in Canada, safe from my irrational plans. No I won't be leaving before March; the 14th is the best day to go, it feels right for both of us, and I won't have to tell my parents before my Nonna comes after all. I feel a bit calmer about things. In simpler terms, I think I'll go this winter. Besides, it was the thought of being alone on Christmas that nearly made me sob over my Caramel Macchiatos and Peppermint Mochas.

Speaking of work, we're doing a secret santa. Guess who I got. That's right... the one guy who I find pretty spiffy. I'll be honest. I found out who had him and I traded. <<

What? That makes me a terrible person or something? I think it makes me human or some other excuse. Goway leme alone...

So I'm getting him custom guitar picks for his band... and a groovy new strap for his guitar... (maybe I'll keep that one- I'm already over the $25 budget anyway ; P). So that should be super. I really shouldn't do this to myself, especially with my impending move... *<--masochist*

Speaking of masochism... I had dinner with my parents tonight. It wasn't half bad honestly, not too many akward moments. My father didn't mention school or work at all, so that issue was avoided. He did, however, ask me a few days ago if I was still going to school. I did one of those uncomfortable scoffs as I was running upstairs and added an Of Course. I felt terrible. But then I'm one of those masochists who believes in self-preservation. Contradictory, I know, but the pain and the sorrow are only soothing when I inflict them upon myself, ergo guilt trips and anger from my father are NOT a nice thing ever at all in no way shape or form.

My GOD do I love this song! Anna Nalick has to be my favorite female singer... and Catalyst is amazingly similar to everything I'm feeling right now. That and Paper Bag... but that's a completely different topic.

Speaking of God, I lost it again. That feeling I had when I wrote that blog seemingly so long ago... I lost it and can't get it back. Eventually I'm sure that I'll find new inspiration and everything will make sense again- but the fact that the feeling comes and goes in of itself makes me doubt it all the more. Quite paradoxical...

Speaking of paper bags... I found some in the pantry. I think I should make puppets out of them like in Kindergarten.

Speaking of puppets, I feel like I am one. Everything I have to do and want to do and am currently doing is one more string. But all the strings are pulling me in different directions and I'm getting tangled into a jumbled puppet mess.

BREAK FREE!!

I will... I will. Just a few more months and I will fly, fly away to a neverland of my own where I never have to pretend or hide who I am.

Just try to make me grow up, I dare you.

And on that note, I've begun to write more, poetry that is. I'm working on another "words" poem which is no big surprise considering how I love them so.
Give me words, make them dance
make them sway, here's your chance
to make me fall, make me enthralled,
make them heard, give me words.
Give me words, make them fly... etc.
a work in progress. I started it in my head last night as I was trying to... Oh man! Last night SUCKED! It was terrible. I went to bed at midnight, not so bad for having to be up at 4:30. But I couldn't fall asleep. I lay there for all four and a half hours staring at the inside of my eyelids wishing to be unconscious. I tossed and turned, turned on and off various lights and sounds in my room, but all to no avail. Come four-thirty am my alarm rang out and my thoughts were a jumble of Fuck! and Finally! The strangest thing was that I was exhausted and I would start to drift off but would bounce back in almost a state of heart-racing panic similar to the panic of oh man I'm late for work... but without the oh man I'm late for work part. So work sucked because I was in a state of semi-consciousness all day. I hope it won't happen again tonight... : (

And that brings me to my last three points.
1. I wish I wrote better.
2. I can't wait for the next Dexter!!!
3. I have to go to bed now.

In closing, BBBBBBLLLLEEEAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHH.

Will a rainbow break if it bends?

I had a blog planned out about the personification of curtains. It was going to be funny and cute and slightly poetic... or so I hoped. But my mood is no longer funny and cute. I'm at home- which is difficult at the moment. It's hard to stay here, but it's a roof over my head and I feel badly about relying so much on Malyssa's parents. They've been more than generous about lending me their spare bed...
Considering how hard it is to stay in the same house as my parents, I don't know if I'll be able to last two or three weeks with them in Canada- crammed into a car with them , then with Joseph and Jennifer for days on end. Don't get me wrong. I want to see my relatives with all my heart, but I'm afraid that I won't be in the spirit of things and feelings will be hurt more than anything. Of course, feelings will be hurt if I don't go as well... and I have to try to figure out whether they'll be hurt more or less than if I ride along. Staying there on my own is out. I can't afford a motel and I don't want to impose on my Grandmother. If I stay longer I will have to work at the local Starbucks. It's only two miles away so I figured I'd walk or buy a bike. I can deal with the weather thing. But I know my Nonna will be worried about me if I walk... and will be inconvenienced if she has to drive me. She'll feel obligated to take care of me although I don't need it, and it will put her out that I won't want it.
So if I go to Canada it is with everyone else. I'm back in the sardine can.
I don't think I can do it in the end. When I sit here and consider all of the options and reprocussions, I think it would be better for everyone if I just didn't go. I can always go later on in the year... it's not too expensive for a round-trip plane ticket, and I'm sure my family will be happy to put me up for a week or two, maybe Malyssa as well. Also the car will be less crowded, there will be fewer people to feed and house, considering a possible hotel stay or two. I understand that it is Christmas- and I am taking that into account. I think it will be better to keep my negative energy away from the spirit of the holidays this year... the last thing I want is to hurt anybody. In other, simpler words, I don't think I'm going to go.
This will be my first Christmas alone.
On the positive side it will give me more time to work so I'll be able to save more money by March... or maybe be able to leave in February instead? Just thought I'd throw that notion out there... even though I have been having reality checks lately. They're similar to second thoughts... without the threat of plan cancellation. I AM GOING. There is no doubt in my mind. The reality checks are more along the lines of Oh God I'm actually doing this.
The west coast is calling me. I hear it night and day... every minute I'm awake, sometimes even in my dreams. Have you ever wanted something so badly that you ached for it? I'm aching through and through, like I ache for air late at night when I wake up with a rock on my chest, like my stomach aches for nutrients after two or three days of marked-out bagels or croissants.
San Diego is my medicine, my nourishment, and I'm sick and hungry now.

My final dillema: Come the end of January, my Nonna is moving in with us. This means that when I leave later on, I'm not only leaving my parents, but her as well. This means infinite more guilt. This means I may have to tell my parents before my Nonna moves in so they can be more prepared to explain it to her and make excuses for me so she won't worry. This means I'll be telling my parents before the end of January... this means that, if I leave in March as planned, my parents will have more two months to make me feel like a terrible person for wanting to leave and break my poor grandmother's heart etc. etc.
This makes me want to leave in January... but that can't happen.
At least I'll have the luxury by staying home this winter, to be able to pick up and leave whenever I have to come February... be it when planned or before.
This makes things a bit difficult with Malyssa because I have to give her enough time to tell her parents, too. It may mean leaving my house and moving in with her for a while. But then her parents will hate me for putting the idea and means of leaving into their baby's hands.

GAH! Will I be hurting everyone by trying to do something I need to do?? Will I be dissapointing both of my families (for they are now as good as my family and I care for them as such)??

Now comes the fun part. Telling my parents I won't go on their little cruise come February, and I won't go on their road trip come Christmas.

Why does doing what I want hurt SO much? :' (

I need this... just this for now.

It’s time to concentrate. It’s time to write; to sit down for one fucking second and focus on something. Am I angry? I had no idea… I am overwhelmed. There are too many things going on right now… I can’t make sense of things. I need to leave… I need to go now but I can’t afford it. I just need to be gone from this place. Dinner tomorrow will be awkward… I know it. I haven’t spent more than an hour with my family in the past week. I don’t know how I’ll survive an entire meal. My father asked me how school was going tonight. I panicked inside. I said what I usually say… school is school. It’s going… well… it’s just going… and no, I won’t have my scholarship anymore… but I want to take next semester off for sure. I’m burnt out. And I am. I’m fizzling- running out of energy to spend on dealing with things. I’m bottling up so much on top of everything else I’ve ever bottled up… but I’m running out of room and I can feel the pressure tightening in my chest. I’ll explode. I know I will and it will not be pleasant. It will probably be at work. It’ll be an exciting scenario I can assure you. I’ll get incredibly frustrated because the store will be a mess and I’ll be the only one trying to actually do my job because I just happen to be the only one there who needs it. Fuck being passionate about coffee… I NEED Starbucks with every part of me. Of course no one in the world knows or understands how much I really need that place… so my frustration will reach its peak when I finally can’t cope with how much my co-workers abuse the store and our necessary working groove. I’ll demand a break at which point I’ll storm to the back room having a mini panic attack. My boss of the moment will probably follow me back there and ask what’s going on. This is the part where I’ll snap. “Nothing! Nothing’s going on except for the fact that I can’t go home because I can’t talk to my parents because I can’t tell them that not only have I lost my scholarship, but I’ve dropped out of school and am giving away everything I’ve ever loved, not out of charity, but because it won’t all fit in my car when I drive away in just a few months, and I can’t even look at them because I feel like they’ll see it in my eyes so I just don’t go home and I’m working my ass of to earn the money that I need to get the fuck out of here but no matter how hard I work I don’t get a single note of recognition or appreciation or support so I can’t stand being here anymore- and I would drive away right fucking now but I don’t have enough money so I’m stuck in a place that makes me feel like I’m suffocating and I can’t go home and I can’t leave and my mother wants to have an innocent little kitten put to sleep because she doesn’t think it’ll have a quality of life and I think it will so I want to take it with me when I go but the kitten might not have as much time as I need to get the money to go so I’m fighting my job, my family, and time itself!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But no worries… nothings fucking wrong! *rips out hair*

At this point I’ll probably be sent home… but then I won’t want to go home, will I?
So I’ll drive around, contemplate leaving sooner, scream a little, things like that. Then, when I do get home I’ll lock myself in my room and fiddle with my funds sheet until I see that I can leave in February instead of March. Then I’ll call Malyssa and rant for a while and tell her the new plan. And there’s another thing, another person to worry about. It’ll be me, her, my cat, her cat, my dog, maybe another cat, and two rats in my shabby little car for a week. Then it’ll be my income until she gets a job and I can do it, I know I can. I don’t want to put anymore pressure on her because I know this was all my idea, but GGAAHHHHH. I HATE MONEY. Then there’s the car. This thing has 140,000 miles on it, needs an oil change, a couple new tires, new wiring in the dashboard, and maybe some new belts in the engine, and I want to drive it across the country??? Who am I kidding???? And if it can’t make it I’m supposed to take two or three cats, and a dog, and two rats onto an airplane??? I can’t rent a car, I’m not old enough. And what about once we get there… what If I can’t get a decent place because of the animals? I can’t give them up… that would defeat most of my reason for leaving… not to mention existence itself. And what if I don’t have enough money in the end? And what if the job won’t transfer? And what if I realize I can’t make it on my own? And what if something happens to one of us there or on the way? What if we take the car and it dies in Texas or something. We’d be fine if it was just me and Malyssa… but with all those animals??? GGAAAHHHHHHH a-fucking-gain! What have I gotten myself into??????
But I can’t not do it. I can’t stay here, I’ll die. I can feel myself decomposing already. Everyday I spend here is taking one away from the end of my life. Dramatic, I know. But I have to get this out somehow. God forbid I let something slip in the real world too soon. I have to keep a smile on my face for at LEAST two more months. I have to get through December and into January because I have to be okay throughout our trip to Canada this winter. AND OH MY GOD WE’RE GOING TO BE DRIVING THE WHOLE WAY!! I’ll be locked in a careening metal box with my parents for days soon to be joined by my brother and his girlfriend during the holiday season- which we all know is the most tense one of all! People plaster on fake smiles and try to be cheery but feelings get hurt more often than not and I can’t even try to imaging what the traffic’s going to be like and it might be snowing and my mother hates highways and my brother hate’s my father’s driving and I can’t stand anyone anymore and GGGGGGGGGGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH with the fires of a thousand suns!!!!!!!!!!!!


I feel better already… *slams head against wall*

umm...

So I'm an idiot. My work clothes are in the drier because I can't stay up any longer... but my other clothes are back in the wash because I completely forgot to put laundry detergent in the first load. I'm a friggen genius right? Okay... now bed.

Wasting time...

Bobbing my head to a jazzy number
I wish you could see it. It's a funny thing. I pout my lips like I do when I like how something feels in my ears. I not only nod my head... up down up down... but every once in a while in the groove I switch it up to side-to-side. Occasionally the chill is too much and my legs, which splay to the sides as I straddle this footstool, move of their own accord and extend my bobbage to my entire body and I literally feel the beat. It is quite enjoyable. I'm liking the vibe.

So I have twenty minutes until my laundry is ready to be plopped into the dryer. Yes, I realize it is after midnight and I work at five... that's not the point. The point is I need a clean ensemble.
Now I find myself wondering... was it Friday's or Saturday's that we need to wear our new seasonal tees? hmm... I'm sure it's Saturday's. Problem solved. Maybe I'll take it with me just in case.
Ramble ramble wasting time.

Mmm... another good song. I need to learn these. They're incredible. "won't you waste my time?" FUNNY!!! That song came on after I started writing all of this about the time wastage. I'm laughing on the inside right now.
Ha! Tristan Prettyman is Mrs. Dash!! (just kidding)
You see? This is what I'm reduced to when I spend so much time with people. I run out of fun stories and I have to be spontaneous with my humor...

ready yet?

... 12 more minutes... BLAST!

I need to be gone. I'm going to be ready to go next week... then I'm going to have to wait it out until March. How am I supposed to survive???? I'm impatient. I want to go tomorrow. All I have to do is pack up my clothes and throw everything I have piled up against my wall into the back of my car and GO GO speed racer! But noooo I have to wait until I have the moooneey. PSH! Gypsies don't need stinking money! (and that's what I've decided I am)

I'm sure it doesn't help that Malyssa and I are planning out all of the tiniest details now. "You know we're going to fight, right?... this is what I'm most likely to get pissed off about. You?"
"Okay... so the dog will be on my lap, I'm sure she won't stay anywhere else calmly, and you'll try to handle the cats... maybe we can squeeze the rats in at your feet... yea they'll fit but it'll be a tight squeeze. It'd be so much quicker if you only had your license!!! lol.

w/e

ready now??

How has it only been four minutes????!!!
ugh.
Well... I'm going to go do something else. . . I don't know what, but it'll sure as hell get done! : D



sorry for wasting your time while attempting to waste my own.

A Duo of Heartstring Jerkers

Cute AND pathetic... a dangerous combination. I find myself overlooking the fact that I already have a dog and a cat and a few small animals when it comes to these two... Thumper particularly. These kittens are the most incredible two of all that I've fostered. They- along with their other two brothers- survived pan-leukopenia... a usually fatal disease, and now, as a result of it, they have the cat version of cerebral palsy. They're normal kittens in every respect but balance and it makes me want to keep them forever. I guess I'm just afraid that no one will be able to give them the love and attention they deserve because they're special.

Pumpkin Time

Kind of like hammer-time... but with less hammers and more pumpkins.

Here's what I've done so far! : )

10/07/07

10/11/07- You might recognize these hands as being Jason Mraz's... then again... you may not. I was going for the "This is what I look like today" thing. It was quite an experience. More to come!!

Tick Tock Tick

I'm feeling utterly weighed down by this place; by the fact that my home is so silent and akward and I'm that little girl again- when it's finally her time at dinner to talk about her day at school, everyone starts to get up and clear the dinner table around her. I feel invisible. It's killing me. I dream about San Diego, about walking five miles a day with my asthma and bad hips and enjoying every step. I dream about the cafe, about the comic book store, about the flowers lining the side of the road by that car dealership and how soft their petals were. Yes, I dream about Mr. Mraz, it's inevitable. His music has affected me like no other as of yet. He was the one who brought me to San Diego in the first place, and has brought words back to my fingertips. But I think what he represents in my dreams is that feeling of peace I found at the idea of leaving here, if only for a little while, to where no one knew me.

I want that peace back with all my heart. I have a feeling that the sky imploded in that one dream because of my apprehension to the thought of going back to find it dull and worn like the walls around me now. I'm afraid of being hurt- again. But I want it, need it. I need to go back. It's in my blood, there's no avoiding it.

So I've started a savings account and will be tucking away what I can, little by little, so by the time I've finished with school I can just pack up and go.

...

just three more years... just three more years... *sigh*

Blue Snails, Purple Elephants

So headaches make me think about things, unfortunately, like the fact that I missed the 4:30 ponder over purple elephants. Damn, I'm pondering it now. *I hate you Jackie*... *not really, you're awesome*. But I find myself thinking about little things like not being able to find the asprin, and, the fact that although all the lights in the house are comfortably dim, I find myself staring at the blinding computer screen. Don't worry, I don't understand it either.

And I keep thinking about my dream last night. It is infinitely better than the last one I had, I'm glad to say.

The last one I had (that I can remember) was the other night when I dreamt that, while on my way to work, being driven by my mother curiously in a mini-van and running late, we got on the topic of Jason Mraz. And as we're talking about him, there he is, right outside my window. We've pulled into the shopping plaza where my dream Starbucks is and he's walking toward the building, right there in front of me. So, of course, I gawk. He notices and waves. So I hop out of the car with the pretext of going to my job, but of course I could care less about making coffee at that moment, besides I was late anyway. So I stroll not so casually over to where Jason is meeting his buddies, everyone from San Diego. Billy was there, so were Aaron, Justin, Keith, Toca, Jessie, and so on. So I say hello and am recognized by a few of the Hot Monkey Lovers, who introduce me to Jason. We're chatting and things are going spiffy when I notice a spot in the sky over Jason's left shoulder. I try to ignore it but as we're chatting it is getting bigger. I finally point it out and ask, "should I be concerned about that?" Jason turns and sees it and says, casually, "That's just a falling star." But by this point it looks like a volcano vortex has opened up in the atmosphere and lava and sparks are defying gravity and flowing out from this thing, spreading across the sky. Then, suddenly, the sparks shoot straight down on top of us and I wake up in a moment of intense searing burning pain. Not so great.

However, in the dream I had last night, Jason and I ran into each other at a party/get together type thing. It was really mellow and fun. We were chilling on the couch. My dream Jason was absolutely hilarious being very ADHD and easily excited. We were talking about something, to which he said something and I stuck out my tongue at him, laughing. He then gasped "You have your tongue pierced?" and grabbed me and the rest of the dream was pretty much us swapping spit. Dream Jason is a mighty fine kisser if I do say so myself. ; )

Despite this great night's sleep I had, I find myself with mondo-headache from heckle. I blame the psych and calc yesterday. Or it could have been the stats this morning... or the humanities this afternoon... or for that matter the bio tonight. Or I could simply be stressing about work this weekend. Afterall, the last time I went to work the sky imploded.

This is my moment of Zen. This is when and where I was truly happy for the longest I have been in my memorable life. I am selfish and want this happiness always, now that I have tasted it. So far I have had no success in keeping the feeling, but uncomprehensible success in finding it in me over and over again. I know it's always there, I just have to figure out how to see it when I really need it.

So, tonight I had a revelation. I took an exam in Calculus for which I didn't study. I failed, miserably. While walking back to my car, a little bummed because I thought I understood the material, I noticed that the grass was an amazing shade of green. The sunset was sepia, pink, and vibrant blue, and the crickets were singing a concerto just for me. I realized that in the big picture one exam didn't really matter. Yes I was going to study and try harder next time, but there was no reason to be upset over a simple test. There are so many more important things happening in the world right now. Soon after I realized this I felt a calm I haven't felt since I took this photo in July. I think I'm just starting to understand what this calm, this Zen, truly is.

I think this calm is God. Now, I need to get something straight. I am not, and never truly have been, a religious person. I have never believed in a creator. I've tried desperately to believe because I wanted something to tell me that if I did this or that I would be happy. All I really crave is happiness. But God, in the denominational sense has always been like a myth to me. I was brought up thinking that God is like Santa Claus. You believe in him because it makes you and other people happy and brings you closer together, but in the end you truly know it is a simple story. It's not true.

Now wait another second before you judge me. I have never thought anyone was wrong about their religion. I simply have never accepted religion into my own heart. I believe that when you die, you die. That's it. It's not nice to think about- but it really makes you appreciate what time you have alive.

But in the back of my mind I have always noticed little things. Little questions have popped up for which I don't have any answers. When I went to the Sistine Chapel I felt something in the air, some palpable electricity. When I sat in science class and was told that negative charges attract positive charges I wondered why. "That's just what happens." I wondered what we were made out of and then learned about cells. I wondered what they were made out of and learned about atoms. I wondered what they were made out of and learned about protons, neutrons, electrons. But I still wonder. What? Why? I fell back on science because I had no faith. But even Einstein said that the more you learn about the nature of things, the more you have to believe in a higher power. It's all to simple in its complexity to have no meaning.

I don't believe I was created by a higher power. I don't believe in God in a Christian sense. I believe in people, humanity. For a long time, when someone would ask me about my religion, this is the response I would give- until tonight.

Tonight this calm I felt, and had been feeling sporadically since my impromptu trip to California, developed into a sense of self. All of a sudden I felt important. Not because I could do something to change the world, but because I could stop and appreciate the world as it was. I stopped before getting into my car, to appreciate the sunset; the formations of the clouds, the sounds of the bugs and birds singing, the scent of the distant rain clouds. Maybe we weren't created by a God. My faith in people has led me to think, perhaps we created the concept of God itself. Through story and myth we have created every religion in the world. I've always believed this... but tonight I find myself thinking. Well fine, we created God, but that means God exists. Perhaps God is not the diety we associate the term with commonly in Christian and Jewish beliefs, or in Muslim, or Egyptian, or Buddhist. Maybe the God I feel is simply energy. That's why God is in everything and everyone. In people, God is the creative and emotional and physical energy we are so distinct for posessing. In animals, God is the drive for survival, and the peace we see in the domesticated, and the drive to keep living in the abused and neglected. In plants, God is the adaptability, the energy to devote the lifeform to search for water and light and nutrients. The struggle to stay alive is God in all life.

In the lifeless God is present. A boulder, let's say. Anyone who has ever taken a physics class can tell you that when you stand on a boulder, it is pushing back up on you to keep you in one place. It is actually exerting a force on you that is equal to your mass times the force of gravity. And it is pushing you up at the same time you are pushing down on it. Wait, wait, let me get this straight. This boulder is pushing you? This boulder just sitting there is pushing up on you? Why yes, and the force with which it is pushing is actually changing every second. Because if you are standing on the boulder and someone tosses you a camera, the boulder has to adjust how much it's pushing on you to incorporate the mass of the camera. If it pushed too little, it breaks. If it pushes too much you go flying into the air. We all know that neither of those things is very likely at all to ever happen. So this boulder is never wrong. The boulder knows how much force to counter yours with. How? God. I can say there is energy in everything, and there is. Afterall, light is energy- so colors (our interpretation of light) are God if God is energy.

The award winning novel Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, by Robert M. Pirsig, delves into the topic of what God is. Pirsig equates God with "the Buddah" or the life force. I'm interpreting pretty much the same thing. Yes, I believe in evolution. Why couldn't God have had a role in it? Why couldn't it have been God, energy, that enticed certain individuals to breed with other with certain characteristics, hense leading to variations in the population which contributed to natural selection and adaptation? Survival of the fittest- couldn't it be God which inspires a desire for survival to begin with. In fact, instead of energy, couldn't God be this desire itself. Everything exhibits this desire, even that boulder which pushes back on you so you won't break through it.

I realize I'm rambling. This is my first day believing in God, you'll have to excuse me.
Yesterday I had everything figured out. I thought I had everything back together after this trip to California shifted my entire perspective on the world. All of a sudden I'm shifted again. It's hard to be rattled like this. Maybe I think too much.

Anyway. You may be surprised to know that even with this newfound conjecture about God, I'm still not happy. I was leaning away from assuming I have a chemical imbalance for a long time, hoping it was going to be a change of heart that would ultimately be my saving grace. But even after seven years of pain and finally finding grace herself, I'm hurting. I think I'll talk to my psychology professor. Afterall he is a lisenced psychologist. He may have some insight for me.

I leave you tired, confused, and broken, trying to piece myself together again. Maybe my desire to do so is my own little piece of this God I found.

I'll say, to sum myself up, that the God I mean is the "Good" in things and people.
And before bed tonight I'll be sure to listen to "God Rests in Reason" at least twice (once to listen, once to sing along).

Reaction Paper

We were supposed to write a reaction paper for my Mythology class. The subject was Katrina. We could write it using any style we wanted. I don't know why I chose this one.

She sighs in relief because the big storm everyone worried about is going away from where she lives. But why is everyone still so upset? She doesn't understand until Mommy turns on the T.V. and they watch the bodies floating down the streets.
So she is afraid again. She knows what this is. This is death; this is pain. She felt this tension before, years ago, when she thought Daddy was caught in those pretty buildings when they burned and crashed to the ground. Really he was in Virginia and had to take a week to drive home because they wouldn't let anybody fly. She didn't mind so much because she just wanted him home safe. But when she sat with her mommy and older brother and watched all those people jump from a million stories up because it was better than burning Mommy said, she couldn't comprehend the tension in the air.
It wasn't until she succumbed to her own inate morbid curiosity a little while later that she began to understand. She looked it up online. "Death," enter. Articles, pictures, websites devoted to graphics. "Murder," enter. Blood, stories. She felt sick but she couldn't look away. Car accidents, 9/11, World War II, Suicides, Homocides. It all hit home when that video cropped up, the one that still hurts her to think about. She only watched a few seconds of it, but they're burned into her mind. She didn't think the title was true. There couldn't be a video of a real murder online. So it hit home when she saw the knife pierce that boy's throat. That brutal gurgle he emitted suddenly echoed in her mind as she sat with her mommy once again watching the bodies from this big storm float down the gutters, line the sopping streets.
And she learns that these people had an opportunity that the other people never did. They could've moved away. They could've left before the big storm came to where they lived instead of where she lives. But that's where she gets confused again. This thing called money that she's hearing about more and more. This thing called the government that she thought she understood when they taught her about it in school. This thing called racism. This thing called disaster relief. This thing called war.
So she knows this is death and this is pain, but it is all so overwhelming and confusing that, as she sits wishing she could help those people get off their roofs and not drown in the swirling waters, she feels as helpless as a child.