Meteor showers....

"...when i think of you, i dont feel so alone... as many times as i blink, i'll think of you tonight..."

It's no surprise to those who know me that I have an issue sleeping. Regardless of clean sheets, freshly fluffed pillows or down mattress, reading, crocheting [i heard the rhythm can help], deep breathing, yoga, listening to ambient music, lights dim, lights off, silence, attempting to clear my cluttered mind .... even tylenol pm. but nothing works.

nothing.

absolutely nothing...

i'll fall asleep for an hour [maybe]... and then im awake. till the whee hours of the morning. where i finally doze off for an hour or two before i peel myself away from my comfy pillow and stare at my bags and bloodshot eyes...

and so lastnight in a fit of anger and rage...after staring at my ceiling fan whirl around for what seemed like hours i flung my covers off (more like kicked them off with flailing legs amidst exasperated sighs), fumbled my way to my dresser to turned my light and simultaneously stubbing my toe on something.

oh yeah.

my bible.

something i had been attempting to pick up for the past few nights and kept randomly thinking of a few other things i needed to get done before i could take a minute and catch up on the reading that i've been wanting to do.

and yet i cant remember the list of ridiculous things that took up my time.

funny how that happens. (note::sarcasm)

So i cracked the spine. thinking huh. what to read.

as the pages fell away to jeremiah. as good as anything else that i can think of at 4am... so like a New York Times bestseller, i blazed through the first three chapters in a matter of minutes. and was completely floored. (metaphorically speaking... though it should have been literally)

God's sense of humor is sometimes not so funny to me. at least not in the whee hours of the morning. when my eyeballs are wanting to fall out of my head. and my brain is racing at 90+ mph. but honestly. Reading 3 chapters of God's disgust and disdain for his people (israelites and judeans both) and their wandering promiscuous eye. Finding other gods and idols to worship. taking away their time.

ugh. wasnt i just thinking of all the other things i needed to complete before i sit down to read this? and my mind stops racing. for one minute. and i can almost hear a pin drop (once again... metaphorical)...

God's ready to pour out his judgement. He's sending this prophet to get their attention.

to.

get.

their.

attention.

yeah... i get it. maybe if i thought about Him while i was trying to fall asleep... like lover's daydreams... like the owl city lyrics i opened with.... maybe then my mind would chill out. and i could sleep. There is no peace for the wandering. there is only depression and the feeling of being alone. all alone.

there.

is.

no.

peace.

without.

God.

"...when i think of you, i dont feel so alone... as many times as i blink, i'll think of you tonight..."

hear me out...

it's rainy. and i love it. it fits my mood. and how i feel.



i hear this song and i remember home.

and i miss home.

and i remember what it was like to feel that.



and by home i mean not only clinton township but east lansing...

and by "that" i mean love. you know. that giddy-my-days-are-never-gray-always-wake-up-smiling-love-my-life love. not being IN LOVE. just love.

pure.

simple.

love.

days of wreaking havoc, of being silly and happy. of going to late night diners. being "kidnapped" from homework. of open-mic nights and local bands. coffee houses and guitars. movies and euchre. longboarding and throwing pumpkins off parking garages. dorm rooms and cloves. hookah. late night drives with windows down and music blaring. bonfires. roadtrips. hamocks. swimming pools and hot-tubs. subway. sunburns. climbing trees and jousting. building snowmans and snowball fights. college cafeteria food-fights and wrestling matches. camping. the summit.

days before people were married. and pregnant. and parents.

we're adults.

we're parents.

wtf.

we grew up?

where was I?

nostalgia.

why is it that songs can trigger such nostalgia. i know im not unique in this. why do we associate good feelings, bad feelings... heck any sort of feelings... with a song. why is it that a certain chord progression can make me cry, or certain lyrics pierce my soul. songs are like good friends. you know? they dont leave. they dont judge. they are just there. for better or worse. they can remind you of what you want to be, where you want to go, or why you are doing what you are doing. they can help you snap out of the blues that you may be singing... but can also sit and wallow with you when you need it the most. they can make a moment feel infinite.

but songs cant miss you. you miss them.

things i have noticed in this past month, as the depression lifts.
1. grad school has caused me to have a nervous breakdown on mulitple occasions
2. since coming to grad school i have lost my punctuality. in fact it is almost expected that i will be late. it annoys me.
3. i have become unreliable. mostly due to work. and my unpredictable schedule. but also my unpredictable mood swings.
4. i consume more caffeine than i should
5. i consume less food then i should.
6. i spend too much money on cds.
7. i have a hard time returning phone calls.
8. i miss being carefree
9. i dont like being a grown-up.

and it's all building character.

but i still miss my college friends. and sometimes im not sure if they miss me too.

ok. and now im done whining.

hey look the rain has lifted.

If you find her....

she wont falter easy. she'll be careful. she'll be coy.
but still she paints her heart among the musings of a boy.
if you find her tell her that i love her.
if she hears you, ask her heart to come.

at the break of morning, the day awaits her when she sleeps.
deep inside her dreams is all the beauty that she keeps.
if you find her tell her that i love her.
if she hears you, ask her heart to come.
-future of forestry-

yeah. it IS one of those days.

it's not the rain.

it's not the gloom.

it just is.

it just is the immerse-myself-in-girly-music-girly-movies-and-make-sure-i-have-a-giant-box-of-kleenex-nearby sorta day.

man. this weather is incredible for a good dose of nostalgia. but sometimes it hurts to remember. you know? i think back to early college. those carefree days where the world was my peach for the picking. great friends. good nights of laughter induced tears. a plan for life. an un-marred GPA. the mountain top. i wish i could go back there. to say hello to that former self and show her how she would turn out 6.5 years later. would she change her decisions? would she drop out and pursue music like she had thought of? or would she still continue on this fast paced academic track?



my second project failed.

third times a charm, right?

or am i destined to be the perpetual grad student?

when did i start sucking at this?

everything used to come so easily for me.

life was easy for me.

what happened?


"...but everything looks perfect from far away... come down now..."

Nothing and Everything

My life has become a cup of coffee
A black substance-seemingly bottomless until you reach the end

it's another sleepless night. and i realized i havent written in this new blog at all. and so i decided to start it back up. why? because it's a good way to get things off my chest. and possibly help me sleep? is that why i spend so many countless nights wide awake? because i have so much to say? so much on my mind? possibly.

and much of it is not for the faint of heart. not for the casual reader. not for those who may just stumble upon one lonely little girls postings. and therefore i journal else where. i've learned my lesson.

and on this sleepless night i think back upon memories that plague my thoughts daily. and i think. God. take it all away. when will this be through? i really would "love to start again. go back to innocence and never leave..." why is it that life is so hard? so messy. so incredibly messy. how come we werent prepared for any of this? how DO we prepare for this?

and so i muse. poetry. mmm.


Breathless and bruised
Forgotten , refused
I’ve fallen down more times than I choose

Meager and brittle
This heart, so fickle
Is broken, shattered, the pieces so little

Rather to run
Than become undone
I’m strong, I’m able; I’ll do it alone

But I don’t want to.

I dont want to be alone.

There’s something to be said about watching obviously awkward first dates from afar. Something about it is like watching a car wreck. You shy away from actually seeing the destruction, yet you can’t stop from looking. You wonder. Do they realize how apparent it is to the room how uneasy you are in your own skin? How much you are trying to impress the other. How often you nervously touch your hair/smooth your shirt/fidget in you chair. The weird awkward mating dance. And we all do it. I don’t think I’ll miss it when Im done with this stage of my life. I’m strangely content with where I am in life. As a single that is. And yet there will be a moment. A passing moment. When I’ll have this wave of desire to just be standing. In that moment. With another. One who understands my innermost thoughts and concerns. Cares and worries. Who understands me. Without even having to explain a single thought. I miss those days. Those days when I felt so secure. So safe. So understood. Emotionally cozy. Warm. Wrapped in a blanket of consistency and sheltered from the prying eyes of the world. What’s wrong with me? Why do I lose interest so quickly? Is it me? Or is it God taking the desire away because it’s a “not yet”. Or is it a “not ever.” God, I hope it’s not that. I really do. I cant imagine spending my life alone. But then again, I cant imagine my life spent shackled to someone who could care less about me. Or I him. An emotional hell. Internally dead and alone.

Im an emotional mess. I appear so hard to others. So jaded. So sad. So beaten down. Where did I get this defeatist attitude? I wish I was someone different. A little less bold. A little less loud. A little less weird. A little more refined. A little more genteel. Smarter. Serious. Just better. and less like the black coffee i consume on a daily basis.

iam

I am abstract art
Awkward and angular
Contorted and quirky
Misunderstood by most
Beautiful to only a few

I am glass
Clear, yet distorting vision
With a most unlikely composition
Strong, but easily broken
Able to slice to the bone

I am fire
Warm, but able to burn
Bright, but easily extinguished
Contained, but difficult to control
Devastating and dangerous

I am vapor
Calm yet easily stirred
a whirlwind of turbulence
Mysteriously fleeting, not dependable
Fickle and easily swayed

iam

i am too much. It's the musician in me. everything i do. it's 110%. i throw myself into things heart and soul when i realize there is no risk and i dont have to be vulnerable.

all these things i want to say. i cant.


Easily distracted
Cohesive thoughts escape me
A labor to finish

...the fight inside is breaking me again... its everything...