Once in a while, I get suddenly filled with this strange sense of urgency. That I need to do something NOW! If I don't, I'll miss my chance. I never know what tangible thing it is that I get so fevered about. I can never pin point it. I can never grab root. It's the pacing around the house thinking and thinking with your mind skipping about. And it's never about what to wear tomorrow or what my friends are doing. It's this deep fountain that bubbles out. It's the place where frustration and fufillment meet. It's hope and disappointment. Doubt and bravery. On one hand it feels like the purest thing I've ever known, on the other hand it's the faintest. It's skimpy.
In the Emily books, L.M Montgomery writes about the flash. The lifting of the veil. I think maybe the two are related. The urgency to see what lies beyond, to hold onto the flash. It's a bit of a motivator because it always makes me want to make changes. I want to make apologies and friends. It provokes this need to be honest and true. It makes me feel like I am not big enough or strong enough to love the world.
It makes me want to write up this big pretentious mission statement (a la Jerry Macguire).
But I never could. I simply lack the eloquence.
I just think that everyone should know how rad they are. And I think they should embrace it. What can I do to encourage it?
I need to come up with a better word than "rad".
I'm wearing goth nail polish. I don't recognize my hands.
I am crunching on an unattainable boy so hard. Every day it gets worse, because as I get to know him better, he just turns more magical. I think magical is the best word. However, he of girlfriend and dread locks and vandalism, he needs to be out of the picture...fast.
This is what always happens, by the way.
Friday, October 19, 2007
Monday, October 15, 2007
Sometimes I am old.
Times when when I can feel wrinkles around my eyes just by smiling. Getting crushes on boys who are nearly ten years my junior. When the music is too loud and the lights are too dim. When I sit and grieve for the immerging generation. When the trichotillomania is at a peak. When my back and legs and feet are tired from working. When things look generally grey and gloomy.
I am thankful for my life and my work and I am excited about so many things. It's nice to be optimistic for real tangible things. Things are good.
It's just these late night thoughts and no one to share them with. The worry about being single and working in a coffee shop forever. I think it's okay to feel like you a limit with singleness. It's okay to not want to go to bed because it seems so empty. I know how to suck it up and deal with it, but sometimes, when I am particularily old and tired, I do not want to be alone anymore. I had a kissing dream last night....with Owen Wilson. It was a great dream. Waking up sucked.
I've been entertaining some ideas today. Not sure if they're good ideas, but it doesn't matter because i have absolutely no intention of following through with any of them.
I have decided to try to not have a drink until Christmas time. I just feel like it's a little to easy to have one too many. We'll see how it goes. It's also very easy to have a wee drink at work
Today I downloaded about 15 Garth Brooks songs. He's amazing. If this officially gives me bad taste in music, so be it. You can take your wolf/horse/mother/mountain bands. Garth is rad. In particular, The Change. I don't know why. It's been made into this super american song, but if you take it out of the context of 9/11, it's a great song on it's own. And don't get me started on The Redstrokes....
I've been thinking about all this stuff. Like the video in the last post. How can I love? I feel like I'm not loving enough. I sometimes feel like my purpose here on earth is to make people feel loved. I usually end up hurting them. i am constantly forgetting birthdays and putting off writing that email. I like a lot of people, I get along with a lot of people, but i don't know if I love them. It's kind of a tragedy when I really think about it. I'm just here on Main Street doing a half-assed job.
I need to stop writing about it.
good night
Times when when I can feel wrinkles around my eyes just by smiling. Getting crushes on boys who are nearly ten years my junior. When the music is too loud and the lights are too dim. When I sit and grieve for the immerging generation. When the trichotillomania is at a peak. When my back and legs and feet are tired from working. When things look generally grey and gloomy.
I am thankful for my life and my work and I am excited about so many things. It's nice to be optimistic for real tangible things. Things are good.
It's just these late night thoughts and no one to share them with. The worry about being single and working in a coffee shop forever. I think it's okay to feel like you a limit with singleness. It's okay to not want to go to bed because it seems so empty. I know how to suck it up and deal with it, but sometimes, when I am particularily old and tired, I do not want to be alone anymore. I had a kissing dream last night....with Owen Wilson. It was a great dream. Waking up sucked.
I've been entertaining some ideas today. Not sure if they're good ideas, but it doesn't matter because i have absolutely no intention of following through with any of them.
I have decided to try to not have a drink until Christmas time. I just feel like it's a little to easy to have one too many. We'll see how it goes. It's also very easy to have a wee drink at work
Today I downloaded about 15 Garth Brooks songs. He's amazing. If this officially gives me bad taste in music, so be it. You can take your wolf/horse/mother/mountain bands. Garth is rad. In particular, The Change. I don't know why. It's been made into this super american song, but if you take it out of the context of 9/11, it's a great song on it's own. And don't get me started on The Redstrokes....
I've been thinking about all this stuff. Like the video in the last post. How can I love? I feel like I'm not loving enough. I sometimes feel like my purpose here on earth is to make people feel loved. I usually end up hurting them. i am constantly forgetting birthdays and putting off writing that email. I like a lot of people, I get along with a lot of people, but i don't know if I love them. It's kind of a tragedy when I really think about it. I'm just here on Main Street doing a half-assed job.
I need to stop writing about it.
good night
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