Monday, August 25, 2008

The music flows through my angry veins carrying peace with its melody. The burn of anger cools as my mind opens to new possibilities. The pain of the past it’s forgotten, at least momentarily, in the wake of the hurt from the present. The sting of words bites and tears at all that I hold comfortable inside me. Nothing that I know is real. It is all changing as fast as I can become accustomed to it. Nothing stays the same. Routine becomes change. Mundane tasks become my lifeblood, all that keeps me going. The need to accomplish those few shallow deeds is the only reason for my life. I can trust no one, friend’s tire of constant troubles. Jealousy bites deep into my throat, cutting off the air I need to survive. How can I watch what I want be ripped from me by someone I know to be more deserving and better suited to it than I? I ask for things, thinking I know the consequences, but in the end they always surprise me. I never meant to become so involved. I thought I knew what I was doing. The strain is wearing me down. I need my strength, but my strengtheners become my enemies, attacking me and wearing me down instead of building like they should. I need strength. I am so weary…no sleep can give me back my strength. I need distance. No attachments, no desires. I need to spend time in a vacuum and heal. The commonplace needs to become my life. I cannot tolerate anything important. If I can get my energy into the few easy, necessary tasks, and do them well, maybe I can get enough energy to recover, stockpile the excess. I thought I was a person, not something that can be brought back when wanted and when more interesting things have been taken or are no longer appealing. But I am just a thing, tossed to the side when no longer wanted, then picked back up when I am. The doll is tiring of the abuse. She is wondering why her? Why must she deal with all this pain when all the other toys are loved and held? The pain of knowing what you could have had and having it denied is worse than never having known the possibilities at all. Ignorance is bliss. Those who never know what they could have had are much better off with the vague ideas than those like me who know fully what is possible but has been denied for no apparent reason.

Friday, August 22, 2008

A couple Sunday nights ago, I was sitting talking to my mom when we heard a large bang followed by a smaller one. We both looked at each other, then at the window. We weren't sure what it was, so we kept talking. About 2 minutes later we hear sirens and look out the window. This is what we saw.
A car was on fire around the corner. The actual car is not visible from this view sadly. The firetruck and ambulences were blocking off the streets, as was a cop car and my neighbor's car. People were coming from all down my street to see what was going on. The lady who was driving the car was standing in the street crying, watching her car burn.
Within just a couple minutes, the fire was out and the firemen were cutting into the trunk to make sure it was not burning inside. A tow truck came and hauled it off. All that is left is a pile of glass and a melted fence.

Saturday, August 16, 2008

ColdAn endless plain of purest white around me here is spread, My body aches with bone deep cold, I wonder, “Am I dead?” The panic builds inside this shell, made such by feelings, hidden well. A shadow falls, a footstep calls, reaching out to me with warmth. My heart beats quick, wanting relief from this deathly cold. I run, the ground moves quick, my flying feet are swift. Slow and sure the shadow draws near, arms open calling me. I slow, then fall into those arms. Alive! The Shadow fills my aching heart, brings courage to my soul, allowing me to carry on, In this wasteland in the snow.
Inside of me
I watch the rain pour down on the empty streets of my hometown. The rain makes everything clean again but can it rain inside of me? The rush of cool rain, streaming down inside of me. washing out the bad, taking some of me. I need the clean, brand-new feeling of a life that’s good now, but can I let it all out of me? I have no confidante who can ever understand me. I don’t know what’s going on inside my own head. If I don’t even know what I’m feeling, how can anyone understand me…

Wednesday, August 06, 2008

The Price of a Dream

Ever since I was very small I have dreamed of going to the same college both of my parents attended, as well as both sets of grandparents. It is rather competitive to get in to, so I worked hard throughout high school so that I could get accepted to this school. When it came time to apply for schools, I made a couple back up plans. I applied to the local State College and another in-state university. A few weeks later I received letters from both schools announcing that I had been accepted (no surprises there, one was open enrollment, and the other was notoriously easy to get into). Not surprisingly, with a 3.9 GPA and a 30 on my ACT, I had received scholarships at both schools. I had never imagined that they would be two offers for full ride scholarships. Full tuition at both, and housing at the other, for four years. I would barely have to work and I would be able to have the time of my life. But it wasn't where I always had seen myself going. Three days after applying at the school of my dreams, I received an E-mail saying that I had been accepted. That was good news in and of itself. Then it said that I was being offered a 1 year (2 semester) half scholarship. I accepted the offer from the school.

Am I crazy? Probably. For me, the experience of going to the school I have always envisioned, as well as living close to home, is a really big deal. Big enough that I would turn down two easy rides through college. I guess that is just the price of a dream.