Hypocrisy Sometimes

Courage, teach me to be shy.

I want to be back in that sleepless night, with the rain pecking softly at my window. Back there, when the soft glow of the light above my head lit up my solitude. Alone. Lovely, perfect.

But that's not true, and I know it.

I'd rather be on your balcony, freezing fingers, cold toes, singing songs to each other. I felt so old and wise, when I'd only known you for half a year. How badly I wanted to lean over from behind my guitar, across yours, and kiss your mouth that I'd never kissed. That's all I could think of, was kissing you. When you sang, I couldn't see your face because it was so dark. No light, just the stars. Just the cold, timid November air. You were perfect, did you know that? Yes, you let me down eventually, but you did it in the best way possible. You're a good person, and I hope I have the privilege of knowing you one day in the distant future. You're lovely.

But you're gone. You don't have to say it, because I can feel it and I know it. It's all right, love. They all go in the end, and I'm glad I could have you when I did. 

Now it's me. That's all. I'm left with me, and I'm glad to have me. I'll mourn not having you around as much, but I've got to figure some things out. The spring-to-summer air is clearing or ruining my head I think. What'll I do. I'm stuck in this perpetually lovely, confusing, confused, complex little soul of mine. Dear lord. We all have one, but I plan to hold onto mine. No one can belong to me. I never understood you...

So since I seem to love lists, I'll make one.

1) Write letter to George. 

2) Write letter to Robin.

3) Have a pointe shoe photo session in Austin with Robby.

4) Bike down to the canoe place by myself and go canoeing and drawing. And with Robby.

5) Stay in that Austin motel on SoCo.

6) Go to that bench on Edison.

7) Run again.

8) Don't go on my laptop all summer. [HARD]

9) Bring my guitar random places and SING.

10) Play the guitar in Costco and sing.

11) Busk in South Quad with Robby one day.

12) Photography again! Lomography! Figure out that dang Holga.

13) Learn to longboard.

14) Dye my hair black and red.

15) Nose stud.

16) Tattoo.

Yup! I'm so excited for Robby Baby to come visit me in Austin. Seriously. Best place on Earth.

WHAT ELSE IS THERE TO SAY.

I just hope I can remember this. I'm so inconsistent. I find that I can never focus on anything too long. I go through phases: one month I'll love ballet, then maybe soccer, then running, then singing, then, who knows, fishing? I can't even consistently love my friends or family. Phases phases phases. No constants. I have no motivation. The only thing I truly have a passion for is living life. And maybe music. Lovely, lovely music. [I think lovely is one of my favourite words.] I just want tomorrow to be over, now. I don't want to present, I don't want to try and control a bunch of little kids, I don't want to ride the bus to their school by myself. I just want to go back home to Austin and start my summer, now. Sexy can I? Why not? Myyyy life. 

Starlight. I love that word, too. Starlight and summertime. Summertime starlight. NOICE.

Nevermore

I didn't marry the girl I love.

Friends are a horrible thing. Before Zach, I had Jenna. I love to have Jenna as a friend because we can talk and have fun and she challenges me, but I don't have to tell her everything. And I don't mean "everything" like those things that actually happened: I mean the inner-thoughts. Those are sacred, and you spill them, they evaporate. Blood loss, no type to match. So it's time to stop sharing with the class, Bianca. It doesn't deepen my friendships to say these things, it only makes me lose myself. I'm not losing myself in another person, but rather there is an eminent erasure. Gone, forever. The chemicals are wearing off. I tried having a true best friend, but it doesn't work for me. I think I'm one of those people who needs to be alone forever. If I got married, if I fell in love again, I'd want to share myself with that person, but they just couldn't get it. Understanding someone isn't something that you can do to me, it has to be in your being. You just are that understanding. I am finding slowly that nobody can be that for me. Only I can. I'm not saying I don't want to be cute with other guys. I want to hold hands and kiss and cuddle, but I don't want to share myself. I love myself, and I want to find out just what it is I am loving. Before someone tries to do that for me. It just amazes me that even the people I am closest to, the ones I've been with for 1, 5, 10, 19 years... They don't even go a bit beneath the surface. They can try, with me as their guide, but it just is impossible. And I don't feel sad about it. I'm excited to be alone, and I'm terribly afraid. At least in the past, solitude never frightened me. What happened this summer?

HERE IT IS Guitar

In Ear Park?

So this is Christmas.

There was a time when a dusty window's ledge covered in moonlight and warm April air was sweet, and it was life. When the sound of "B-B-Benny" through a midnight suburban street was a rebellion. And then you had to come along, with your crawfish that chased toes and your abandoned house, with your problems and your inside jokes, and you had to raise me up so high just to let that chair loose from beneath my feet. And there wasn't even a noose; that is the worst. So I fall. Every little part of the world was different before I met you, do you know that? It could be hard to believe. The part I miss the most, though, is me. Can you remember me? I really was extraordinary. I was special. Let me say, that is the hardest thing to be. We are told that we are so special, but the truth is that "special" is a greatness that we achieve. It was me that brought you forth from the crowd. Now what is this animal sitting here, with these little fingers, untouched for months, that type away so carelessly? But it's not careless. It was, once. Once, when Bukowski drenched from the corners of my lobes, when Eliot was out of reach, when Andre brought me to mirrors, when I could understand myself. I hated it all, but don't you remember how fascinating life was? Now it is a stupid thing I do. College is a stupid thing I do. I want to go to San Francisco and open all the windows of my apartment and look outside at a beach. I want to roll down a giant hill and stumble when I get up. Then it all changed. So I can't go back. There's only a few lessons I've picked up, but one of them is that history DOES NOT repeat itself. We are fools if we think it. Everything is different the next time. So I can't just play Way to Normal and open my window and expect a gush of openness to flood me. It's a new age (And It Is Hot?), and it calls for new procedures. That's the loveliness of it all. I can't get it here. I've also learned that it's better to have no friends than to have friends that make you dumber. I'd rather be alone. I won't start formulating plans, because I already know what I'm going to do. I am afraid of being alone again. It's a habit! I want to be alone and be who I was, but I enjoy leaving my house as well. I can finally find that balance now. Hardest thing to do. I am scared to death of starting from scratch, but I am not really. I have myself, always. Isn't that the funniest thing. There is only one thing I will always have as long as I'm on this Earth, and that's me. So I better learn to love it, whatever it is. Because Mom will die. Papi will die. All my friends will either die, or disappoint me, or grow bored of me. My dog will go. My children will find jobs and stay busy. But I am with me from the day I come into this life to the day I make my exit. That's the most comforting thing I know. Some people may say that it's a burden, to always have yourself around like a pest, but I think it's lovely. It gives me some time to work on me, to know me, to shape me. I am transient, yes. I want to get into more trouble than I do. To be more reckless. There is a person here, underneath these fingertips, and I love her. Yeah, okay. So she is shy and pathetic. So she barely ever accomplishes what she wants. But I love her because she's all I have. My little personality. It's all I have, all I can ever have. No more running from her. Love, love.

Impossible

Ask our neighbors.
I would know.

And then you walk outside the door and it's missing. The wind still lurks around. The clouds are still up there. What's gone? Or has something been added? A few Fahrenheits. Spring. Spring. FREEDOM!

It's almost summer. I will only wear a bikini for 3 months, and I'll only drive around and swim and laugh and eat good fast food. It's a law, a rule. I don't know where I want to go or what I want to do. What am I sure of?

I am sure:
-I find people endlessly interesting.
-I find this world endlessly frustrating.
-I am constantly changing, second to second.
-I am not that great.
-Pho tastes good.
-I want to be in Austin, TX right now.

There's nothing to know and no one to love. I just can't see myself ever being at peace. Maybe it won't happen for me. But if it doesn't, I would at least like to be not-at-peace in a cool way. Can I have that?

Still Here Hey

I wanna free fall, out into nothing.
I'm gonna leave this world for a while.

Robin is sleeping maybe. She's probably wondering what I'm doing. She probably knows what I'm doing because she knows me well. She'll probably even read this one day. If you are, hey Robin this is referring to the night before the Holy Half when we stayed up late talking with George then just us.

When does the Nyquil kick in? I took a lot of medicine... Some decongesents, some cough syrup, some Nyquil, lots of cough drops. And my throat still hurts like hell. In fact, it hurts more. It feels like all my symptoms got concentrated into my throat. My nose isn't running, I'm not coughing as much, no headache or earaches, no fever (that I know of)... but OW my throat. Pain. On one hand, I really just want to be healthy again. I almost missed my Soc Psych test today. And I want to be able to go out and have fun without being tired and sick-y and stuff. But then again, being sick is a good distraction from any bigger problems. Which I'm sure are there, lurking, but whatever. I'm going into that mode again. Where I just learn to deal with it with defense mechanisms. I just become more cynical and lose faith that anything too good can happen to me and just accept the fact that life's going to be mediocre for a while. I don't think there's anything wrong with it. It's all just phases. I don't know... I just guess I'm trying to stop caring. I don't want to care anymore. So much effort... Like, having to have these problems and stuff... Why can't I just be a nice person, go to Mass, do my work, whatever, and ignore my problems? There's only a week left in this month. Almost done. Then another month of school. Then I'm done!

I have no regard for anyone, really. I used to really really care about Zach. Now I'm just scared to care about him. I'm scared that he'll let me down because I expect too much. That's when it's best to just expect nothing. I'm not even going to try to visit him at school or anything. I love him, yeah, but it's too complicated right now. I'm still figuring out so much. So is he. I miss who I was around him: easy to make friends, nice, sweet, good. Here at college, although I am nice to strangers, I'm just indifferent. I just want to get through the weeks, do my best, get drunk on weekends, and repeat. It doesn't feel bad, really. It doesn't feel like anything. I don't know. I am so mean to George. Maybe it's a challenge for me. To try and be nice to him. I don't understand this. Do I wish for different things sometimes? Yeah. I guess I wish I was still in a big group again. I wish I had a sense of humour too. It would help. But I can't help that I don't find many things funny!

So I should make a what do I REALLY want list. Hmm.
1) Still, why Susan did that.
2) Just to be warm with Jenna.
3) For things to be like they were with Zach when I could talk on the phone with him for 3 hours.
4) For it to be the future.
5) To talk to my mom.
6) For someone to understand me... again...?
7) To be more like Bruce.

Yup! But what I want most of all is for there NOT to be homework for me to do tomorrow. I don't even want to think about it. Especially Writing and Rhetoric. I can handle Psych. At least I like Psych. But W&R... I hate it! Am I getting drowsy? Maybe the Nyquil is kicking in. I wish I had alcohol right now. Don't you?

I Wish the World Really Had Ended on Friday December 21, 2012

In time, you will fade away. 
But time takes time, you know.

I'm not clever anymore. I'm not creative. I need
-Some paint
-Some time
-A new personality
-To stop basing my self-worth on whether I think people like me.
-Because face it, self, you will never truly think people like you until you like yourself until to think they like you and at that point, you won't even need their approval!

That's what I like about Colleen. She doesn't really seem to need to prove herself to be a cool chick to people she meets. She's just herself, and she doesn't seem to need to build that base that I do. I wish I could just be myself with everyone (AKA Not Be Shy) but I don't know why it's so hard. It's hard even to image that people could feel differently than I do. I'm fucking awesome when I let myself be, so why don't I? Why do I keep thinking I'm not fucking awesome? I know I am... At least I have been in the past. Who knows... It's all so confusing. I already know the first think I'm going to paint when I get my hands on some acrylics. It's gonna be a black girl with pretty brown skin and a red turtle neck with an orange back ground and her eyes will look so beautiful and real [I spend the most time on the eyes... I just love eyes, who doesn't?] and she'll look neutral/worried/pretty/she knows she's all of these but doesn't care. She'll be steady and gorgeous. Cartoon-ish, not a caricature. Fuck I want so much. I'm so materialistic sometimes, for as much as I say I'm not. I want a curling iron [yeah but when I curl my hair I always get pissed off at the end and end up straightening it and it looks creepy and frizzy] and to put make-up on in the mornings. Fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!kkkkkk. Fuc!k!k!k!k!k!k!K! That's fun. Okay now I'm just procrastinating. But seriously! Self, stop worrying. Just be yourself (BE AWESOME!).

What are You Trying to Prove? Who are You Trying to Prove it to?

I should have nailed you down.
Now you're on that cloud.

I wish I could forget. It's only been two months. That's nothing, right? It feels like it's been so long.  I miss being your friend. Here's what I would say to you if I could:
Dear you,
You need to make a choice. You can either have me in your life, or you can't. But there can't be an inbetween. So let me know. If you let me stay, I would be good. Right now, I don't feel like being good. I don't feel like saying, "Thanks" to the ladies in the cafeteria. No, instead, I'm going to go out and get drunk on weekends and bury my head in books and tell myself that everyone I see is a goddamn idiot who deserves to die. Right now, I hate the world sometimes. I do. It's sad how it always comes back to that, but just let me hate the world. It's nice sometimes to do that, because its so easy for me. I can't be mad at you because you didn't do anything bad, but sometimes I really am. Sometimes I feel like asking you if you enjoyed pushing me away. What were you doing, were you leading me on? You made me believe you felt something for me, and then you tell me it's gone and you just don't think it's possible. No, I know you didn't lead me on. You were just feeling it then. But how come you can stop and I can't? Why do I still love you? I want to stop loving you, because I don't love anyone else. Everyone else I see is so ugly, so disgusting, so awful. I know you couldn't always see it, but I think you're so beautiful. It makes me sad, because I tried so hard to be good to you. I tried so hard to never hurt you and to give you space and stretch myself so that you could be happy. And I was happy just to make you happy and see you happy. I want to be the one to make you happy. Why won't you just let me? No, instead you like to push me away. You like to not talk to me, you like to leave me be. Don't you know how much I miss you? Don't you see how hard it is for me? I cry a lot about it. I think about you everyday. And it's awful. I wish I could go one day without missing you. And I bet you're back there, and I bet you don't even care. I bet you've forgotten all about me, that stupid girl who loved you. Just as well, right? I'll be coming home in two months, and then what? Are you going to ignore me? Because I'm sure as hell not going to chase after you. I'm tired of doing that. Maybe you just like pushing people out of your life. I don't get it. Why would you do that to me? So I guess what's left for me is to just drink it away from time to time, trudge through my days, going on and hating where I've ended up. I've always thought life was a pretty awful thing, but I guess meeting you made me like it a bit more. Knowing I could spend some time with a guy like you made me happy to be in this world. Now I don't know. Nothing else is doing that for me. I hope you're fine.
-Bianca

Yeah, right.