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| Enough |
| 11.27.04 (5:53 pm) [edit] |
So I'm really over this depressing blog thing. I don't know about the rest of you. A really good blog is supposed to have its own personality, its own tone. I'm not sure I found that yet. I'm over completely spilling my guts here, though, or just da da da, writing what I did in a day. So many of you don't know me, and even if you do, it's not the place to really find out what you're missing. This blog from now on is going to be less about me and more about people and stories in general.
You'll see...
soon.
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| Fragments |
| 11.22.04 (1:29 pm) [edit] |
There's something about Christmas time in the city that makes me re-live the abandon of broken relationships. For each glowing ball hanging from the trees in the Square I think of how many times I've worn my heart on my sleeve.
How many times I've been rejected because of such a brazing act.
How many times words were mistaken as actions and assumptions led to words.
How I urge to reach out again, but am afraid to get burned by that beautiful fire--or worse, not have it flicker at me at all.
How many times I've not said what I meant, but instead meant what I wrote.
How so many times I damper anger and truth--and when I don't...when I finally say what I mean and mean what I write: abandon.
Carol of the Bells. A Circle. This endless reverberation.
I miss you and I don't know how to tell you that I'm sorry.
I want to Wish You a Merry Christmas from the bottom of my heart and tell you that peppermint tea is so delightful by the fire.
But the fire is slowly dying. My fear is still good-bye-in'.
Let it snow...let it snow...
Where are you Christmas?
Why can't I find you?
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| Dream Weaver #2 |
| 11.20.04 (6:41 am) [edit] |
The night before my Magic Girl dream, I also woke up with this short story haunting me:
Nicole Kidman came to visit me with her family in this glorious mansion which housed numersous young people by the beach. The scene took on muted tones, gray ones of misery and dread. There was this very dramatic scene where N. sobbed about something to me on the beach. Once again, there was this connection I can't quite describe. However throughout this story, I was about 10 and my fictional brother around 8. At the end, me and my bro were swimming in the ocean and there was a gate instead where you would find buoys to say "This is as far as you should go". Beyond the gate, though, we see red flags (our ultimate destination) and the ocean engulfs us and sends us over the gate.
N. searches for us from the beach. Abandoned.
This just proves one point: no matter how much we try to describe our dreams to people, they never make as much sense to us as they do when we're dreaming them.
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| Dream Weaver |
| 11.20.04 (6:22 am) [edit] |
She appeared in my dream last night--the Magic One from first year at college.
It was night time in NEPA and somewhere between confusion and chaos, we were together. I ran my fingers through her hair and she had pieces of leaves tangled there. Then she continued to comb her fingers through my hair, and it was the moment I realized I'd missed her so much.
When I woke up I had the sense of crackling nailpolish--she has a boyfriend.
and tonight i have a date with jeff.
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| Mary... |
| 11.13.04 (4:36 am) [edit] |
...did you know?
It's official--they have managed to finally start the Christmas season before November 15th. Turn on your radio. I remember back in the day when the festivities began with Santa at the end of the Thanksgiving Day parade. Whatever happened to that? They have to pay him over-time now!
Soon, instead of just getting candy at Halloween, people will be like,
"Here you go honey. Have a Hershey Bar and some jingle bells."
I guess 12 days of Christmas isn't enough for some people.
PS. I'm secretly loving it. :)
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| Elements |
| 11.09.04 (3:37 pm) [edit] |
Since my date on Sunday night, I've been extremely conscious of the elements. E. told me stories from when he raced in Alaska on his mountain bike. 10 days in an extreme solitary journey versus the elements and the self. He painted me pictures of sunsets unimaginable and temperatures barely livable.
So when I ran tonight and thought I sensed the crisp smell of winter in the air, I brushed it off. And when I couldn't see the stars because of the city lights, I thought--
how unfortunate and cold.
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| Clarity |
| 11.06.04 (6:04 am) [edit] |
Imagine me and you, tea time at 12. Here were the highlights.
Faith:
I can't even pray clearly these days. And you'd think if you were trying to get your point across to God, you'd make the best sense ever. Instead, at night when the silence hits, and I aim for that enlightening connection--I fall asleep. Maybe She's trying to tell me something, like "Bless your heart, honey, you need me, but right now you need sleep more."
Touch:
An article I read once said that everyone should be touched at least twice a day and hugged at least once.
Living alone now doesn't offer me that privelage. So when I went to the doctors the other day (and normally I HATE the doctors), her warm touch was like Zen Mom, and it secretly filled that void I've felt for a long time now.
Autumn:
Since the leaves have cascaded to their death, I swoosh through them everyday while walking through the city. It makes me long for the days when we'd rake up the crispy leaves into piles and jump in them. I wish I can roll on a leaf-filled lawn now and get leaves stuck in my hair.
Connections:
Magically somehow, I met a guy who's taking me out tomorrow night--for chai and a walk in the park to enjoy autumn while it lasts. Can you imagine? Me. A guy. A guy who spoke to my heart as soon as he said chai and park and "I love fall" and "Let's go out and play."
Who knows, we may see fireworks.
If anything, I'll have another story for tea time.
Holidays:
'Tis the season to be jolly. Maybe it's my urge to start Christmas shopping, or all of these new movies coming out like The Polar Express. I'm craving holiday music and shiny wrapping paper and bows and a pine scented tree. Drop the cynicism and stress, and "I don't know what to buy people anymore". Think happy thoughts of a big guy in a velvet red suit with little pointy-eared folk--make something, give joy, box your love...sing.
Over the river and through the woods...
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