Grace

Run, devil run, devil run
Devil run...

This morning I woke up with the haze of lost sleep, feeling dragged down by my own thoughts. I felt sort of flat, and anxious about the state of my mind, and things in general. What I wrote last night was still clinging to me. After I wrote all that, I sat back and thought, "Where did all that come from?!" I knew I had just unlocked a door that might have been better off left alone. "Now everyone will know how crazy I really am," I thought.

Run, devil run, devil run
Devil run...

But it's funny, because when I walked out of my house this morning and got in my car I noticed what a beautiful day it was. The sky alone was enough to knock me flat on my back, I can't even describe it. It was a deep, hazy, blueish-gray, and the sun shone up against it and illuminated the morning mist that hung over the trees... The whole morning was so fresh and real and gorgeous that it made my chest hurt just looking at it. I realized by what grace I am allowed to wake up every morning and see scenes like that. Being alive is a blessing in of itself, and I thought perhaps that the answer isn't necessarily knowing the answer but just loving as hard and as well as we know how... And to do this in spite of all that suffering or really because of it. I do believe in grace, and maybe that is a first step towards faith.

As for writing, I'm afraid that is all I know how to do, even when it is uncomfortable. I leave you with this quote on why I do what I do. If I can come even a little close to this, then it is worth it:

"We write to expose the unexposed. If there is one door in the castle you have been told not to go through, you must. Otherwise, you'll just be rearranging furniture in rooms you've already been in. Most humans are dedicated to keeping that one door shut. But the writer's job is to see what's behind it, to see the bleak, unspeakable stuff, and turn the unspeakable into words - not just into any words but if we can, into rhythm and blues."
-Anne Lamott

In conclusion, today was a beautiful day.

Run, devil run, devil run
Devil run...
From the light.

-Jenny Lewis

The Voice

I have inside of me and awful, nagging, sticky, terrible voice and it will not go away. It worms it's way across my thoughts and tells me horrible things in a plausible, persuasive voice. I whispers in my own voice that I am neither very smart nor very beautiful. It tells me that good things will not happen to me, and that I cannot be loved. It tells me that I absolutely cannot write, and that I should give up these piddling attempts and any wishes of greatness because whatever comes out is essentially dog-doo. Even when good things do happen, the voice slides into my brain and says, Oh no, this is too good to be true. It can't be happening, not to you...

I hate the voice, I hate it. It eats at my heart and destroys my faith. But I don't know how to make it go away for good. Temporary exorcisms are all I ever seem to manage. I am waging a constant battle with it, for when I shine light on these thoughts they seem so false and untrue... Yet they won't go away. I can't seem to control this second-guessing, even when I want to. When I pull out these thoughts I find them teeming and ugly and I hate myself. I want things passionately, and instantly borne out of that is fear. What is the answer? I think it might be God, but it's hard to get close to God when one feels so riddled with imperfection. Which is entirely backwards, yet entirely true of me. I know there is a difficult answer that lies somewhere in myself, and not in other people. I know I need to know that the voice is wrong.

Life is so full of broken things. People can't seem to act totally right, or love quite right. And some days you wake up and it just hurts like hell, and you wonder why people who do manage to love each other so well have to suffer. I don't know, I just don't know. I think there is some kind of grace out there. I see it, and I am trying to learn how to accept it. I want faith, I do.

I just read over this, and I am a little scared to post it. It's a little bit like pulling out my insides and putting them on display. But maybe putting this out there is in it's own way an act of faith. Maybe you have that voice too, and reading this will make you feel a little better. That is what I hope.

Love/Hate

I swear, every time I sit down to write something - and it could be anything: an English paper, a story, a letter... - most days when I sit down to write it seems impossible that I'm going to get the words to appear. The magic just is not going to work this time, because I won't be able to think of anything. At all. So I sit at my desk and try to pull my hair out as I mull over whatever it is in frustration, because the blank page is just sitting there and I know I have to fill it up. But with what? And none of this would really be a problem, except for that deadline... it just gets closer and closer.

So, the hair pulling continues and eventually out of sheer desperation I write whatever crap floats to the top of my brain pan, and it is horrible, but then I look at it and think, "Well, there might be something there." Then I clean it up, make it sound smart, and feel relieved to be done if nothing else. I might even feel accomplished and pleased with the result on a good night.

Now, WHY do I love writing so much? Because the process is not nice and neat for anybody (and if it is for you, then I hate you). Really, I love it because no matter how difficult it is, words always spill out eventually, and those moments of "aha!" are so sublime. I love it when after much writing, re-writing, and re-arranging, a piece justs fits together. It's just beautiful.
And as for deadlines, I would get absolutely nothing done without them.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a paper to work on. (Surprise. I am not above procrastination, my friends, as you've just witnessed.) But everyone needs a break from all the hair pulling and teeth gnashing at some point, deadline or no deadline.

More later.

Astonishment

I think that the world may have just rotated right off it's axis this past week. Or maybe it was the lunar eclipse stirring things up. The slightest breeze could knock me down right now. But I can't stop smiling. Also: I am not second guessing myself, which is so... new.
What I really think is that God likes to smack me upside the head once and a while, generally when I least expect it and most need it. "See?" he seems to be saying, "here is what you wanted. And it was right under your nose the whole time."

I can't really explain. But the moral of the story is: good things come from the most unexpected places (and people).

Today is a soggy, soggy day. I like the rain though. It is at the very least good for keeping me inside to write papers. And hopefully not to take accidental naps...

"Don't worry. We'll just go back to Victoria's Secret after Lent."
-Rachel
(Because we are pious girls like that, Rachel and I...)

Free, White, and Nineteen...

That's what Bob said, anyway. If you know my uncle, you'll get it (or not). SO, birthday rundown: it was perfect. The whole weekend was perfect. Now I'm a year older. Wahoo.

Now it's Monday and I'm stuck back with homework, and confusion, an unfinished college application, and unfiled taxes. Did I mention confusion?

Crap. I can't even remember what I'm supposed to be doing anymore.

Be Mine?

So, today was a good day. Valentine's Day is never quite that significant to me. It is generally overshadowed by my birthday which is two days after. Also, I've never had anyone to get mad at, or anyone to mad at me, for forgetting about it. I say that without any bitterness or regret or anything like that. I'm too young for either of those. However, I DID get a Valentine's card from one of my young Tae Kwon Do students. That, and some chocolate. I was quite tickled. I'm telling you, this teacher thing rocks like nothing else on some days.

I know I have a crapload of work to do. For some reason, though, it isn't stressing me out. I just feel unreasonably happy. As for being on the fence, I figure I will eventually just lose my balance and fall off onto one side or the other, and that will be that.

So, Happy Valentine's Day.

I Mean, What Could Go Wrong?

At what point does one make a leap? When your friends agree it's a good idea? When your parents think it's a good idea? When you just feel like it?
My brain invents too many things to go wrong. I'm not really sure which ones are reasonable and which ones are simply overkill anymore.
Do I worry about right and wrong too much? And I don't mean that in a cosmically epic sense. I mean I worry about whether the decisions I make are good ones. Ones I won't regret, essentially. I try to plot out along the consequences of what I might do and evaluate the pros and cons. I think maybe I should stop evaluating, because I don't really have any real understanding of what might happen. Furthermore, maybe there is something to be learned from any action and it's consequences... Good, bad, or in between both.
It's a thought. I think it when being sensible becomes slightly tiresome.

Then I start to question my motivations. That's uncomfortable because I have very few answers for myself in that department, and sometimes the answers I come up with I don't like...

Walking On Cartons Of Eggshells

I was going to bake something just now; some nice scones, perhaps. Anything to keep my hands busy and my mind at ease. Nothing satisfies that quite like baking for me. I bake to get rid of anxiety, and confusion, and general restlessness and dissatisfaction. My plans tonight were foiled by the fact that there is nothing either in our refrigerator or cupboards. Actually, I had most everything I need except... eggs. Curses.
So, since I have set aside what is left of my Spanish homework for now, I have nothing to do but sit here and type my own self-indulgent thoughts.

I don't know why I always try to classify a week as good or bad. It's always a mix. And then there are some things that don't seem to fit in either category. There should be a third: confusing. Some things I can't explain here, just because I don't want some people to get the wrong idea. But an element has entered into a friendship that has kind of thrown me off... I have no idea how to treat it. It also has stirred up a number of thoughts and memories that are not very comfortable. Add to that frustrating dreams and an inability to make up my mind.

On the other hand, I always seem to let my mind get bogged down and tied up in the things that are bothering me no matter how much good I have going. I am in the very process of applying to transfer out of community college. That is exciting. My birthday is next week. In exactly one week, I will have exactly only one year left of my "teens." That's kind of exciting too.

I have forgotten the point of this. What am I trying to leave you with?
Here: Maybe our expectations are the problem. Think about it.

its just my heart gets rejected by my veins

I am taking a study break. A strategic break from the studying I put off until tonight. I could have done it earlier, but my self-discipline has been weak these recent days. It has been unreasonably warm. Yesterday I sat in my car in the middle of the school parking lot with the windows down, just lounging in the warmth. Weather in the South really is friendly, and I think that has something to do with this Southern politeness... 70 degrees and sunny made me feel sleepy, and dreamy. It felt like spring. Dreamy is good, because it beats worrying and over-analyzing. Two things I seem to do no matter how hard I try not to. I don't understand much, really, but I keep trying anyway. Don't know why.

I made the Dean's List, though. So, I suppose I understand a few things.

Today was a day that could not decide if it wanted to shine or storm. I like days like that, and I like how intensely detailed nature seems after a good soaking. I am witness to so much, and I just keep feeling that it is all part of a big, confusing, beautiful puzzle... if I could only get the pieces to go together. I also feel we're all doomed never to grasp the whole picture, but there you go.

*rilo kiley

Past, Present, And Future: Further Thoughts

Our lives are fluid: this is something my aunt told me once, and I can see how true it is. Last post I think I came close to it, but never really said it. The forces and currents that move us are not only the ones that belong to the present. The future exerts a powerful hold over us, and certainly me. It is what I act toward, what I can still dream about. It influences so much, yet changes so constantly. My personal road-map has fluctuated many, many times. Although, it still retains the basic essentials. College, for example. But where? And to do what?
The past, though, is inescapable. It shades and informs everything with experience. I have very little experience as of yet. Lots of future, slightly less past. The present is perhaps the hardest to get to, to understand. As soon as I think about it, it's gone... It's that fine line between the first two. But the present is when things actually happen, that is where life is lived. Or is it?

At this point things have gotten to philosophical for me, so my line of thought will stop there. Perhaps I've been thinking of it because I've been paying far more attention to the past and future than the present lately. Fridays are blessed days, however. Today was a day spent in the present, and it was good. Beautiful, in fact.