Walkin on shards of heather So we are almost done right? School is just about over and from here it is something new. So i took the time the other day to look over what has been accomplished in these four years aside from 26 credits and 1,300 days indoors. What I came across perplexed me.

I actually remember a day freshman year when I concluded thatpeople who thought life was hard, were doing something wrong. I rememeber a point in time where I had never experienced anything heartbreaking, anything tramatic, anything damaging, so that my world in turn was flat, easy, and pure simplicity. I saw people who hated life, who demanded refunds, who yelled alot and dressed goth or who woke up every day mad at something or someone as people who didn't understand how to live life. To me, there was no way life was as complex as people were making it out to be.

Today, I have no conclusions. Sometimes I wish I could just spend one more day on this earth doing anything I wanted and completing pointless tasks just to have 24 hours go the right way. Some days I wake up mad, and I find myself more complexed at my surroundings than astounded by simplicity. I constantly question, constantly love, and even hurt so that I may understand better these days I just cannot grasp. I have beoome more like that person who I thought needed a piece of reality when really, this is me with a handful more than I had before.

I am brought to think that what happened is no miracle, is nothing abscure, but the way life works. You are brought through sections of time like high school, pre-school, gradeschool, no-school, marraige, divorce, death, and birth to understand one thing more that you did not before. If not that, than maybe just the opposite. Perhaps the point of high school was rather to rob me of my simple understanding so that I could start anew and learn all ways with equality and rightness about them. What did happen is alot of stuff; and the irony about this stuff is that the stuff I want to relive taught me some, while the stuff I want to erase taught me so much more.

So when people tell me this next year I will change so much, I will be nothing like I am now, I will become who I will be for the rest of my life and journey from there, I know what they are saying. They are telling me that there is more pain, more hurt on the way because only then will I learn something, or possibly forget something, new.

I look forward to the growth and change....but be gentle please. I learn slow...  ¶ 10:36 PM 0 Comments

  Point in the sand Thought:

How much stuff in your day you do unconsiously? How often do you smile, laugh, type, eat, pee, walk, think, react, cry, fall asleep, wake-up, drive, anything ? Now that I think about it, it is hard to think of what I consiously do, meaning what I decide to do and think about each step of the way. If so much is unconsious, what makes a conscious being? Mind boggling...........

Also, I think goals have a certain narcisism to them. A focus on end point. I don't like goals becaue that means there is a destination. What if you don't meet your destination then before you die? You didn't meet your goal, therefore you didn't succeed so all it does is put you into the failure catagory. I rather would like journey adventures. A focus on traveling somewhere therefore if I never get there I can still die being a success..........  ¶ 3:38 PM 2 Comments

  Beads collected on water-leafs I need you to tell me if I am seeing this all wrong. Seems like there's no way that everything so unclear could be so sure so I am going to keep on assuming that these feelings of new are of good too. Were you there when I picked that flower today? 'Member, because I stopped to take off my shoe and walk on the carpet of petals left by the naked tree and then bent down to give my hands a chance to feel. Then I broke the pure white skin to watch a rush of brown soak through the wrinkles in the petal like blood through veins. Pealed the purple off too just to see if I could and then I brought it up to my face and pulled the air through my nose. I even felt the little droplets of scented water on my soft skin and it cooled me on the inside. Remember that? I can't imagine you wouldn't because I started talking really loud to you about then, asking you all sorts of question. Because it was then that I almost felt totally real, like a peice of beautiful creation that needed to live a little more and worry a little less. I kept on walking though and listening and trying really hard to figure out where all my thoughts were coming from. You speak so quiet sometimes I am not sure if it's you or the wind blowing in my ear.
If it is the wind, I still like it. I like all those things that touch me. I love skin, I love wind, I love words, I love you. Why is it that touching is so much better than all the others? Wasn't until I went ahead and touched my face I realized all those thoughts I was churning were about something more than nerves, cells, theories, religions, and trees. It's weird how sometimes I forget that without being simple I can never be and so I get stuck in a heap of material that feels a whole lot like spider webs; there enough to feel and walk into but absent enough to not be found. It's these spider webs that catch me and spin me round while I lie in bed. In the webs is also the first time in my day where I can forget that something real about me does exist and just turn round and round until things deep inside of me start to pour out that have got nothing to do with anything past my white sheets. So I fall asleep spilling, talking to you all loud again, and hoping you will catch all these things better than the web of sureality that I have made and shape them into something more useful. I always wake up though, step out, and remember I am something much more tangible than those thoughts, those shouts, and I come back to the routine I live without hesitation.
So it's this walk I had today that I want you to clarify. Because it wasn't routine. In fact, it was the only time I've ever felt those deep spider-web issues while walking and smelling and touching and feeling life. It was like my world was my bed and you were in the wind. So I thought my same bed-time thoughts but ran into new conclusions, real ones, and they aren't anything I have ever thought could be right. I need you to tell me if I am seeing this all wrong. Seems like there's no way that everything so unclear could be so sure so I am going to keep on assuming that these feelings of new are of good too.  ¶ 12:22 AM 2 Comments

  The song of humanity People often talk about evidence in the worlds that there is a divine creator. Things like sunsets, the beach, nature, literature....anything beautiful point to a greater creator. But one thing that honestly baffles me and fits into that catagory but often seems to lack acknowledgement is music.

What the heck. I love music, you love music, who doesnt love music? The weird thing about it is music is just noise; a combination of loud and soft, high and low, that somehow, in some way, affects us. Seriously, what other animal on this earth makes noise just to listen to it? What makes rythm so natural? Why can one thing be played on the piano and sound ridiculus and by adding time inbetween beats, it all of a sudden is a symphany?

The fact that all hearing humans and even the deaf can somehow enjoy or at least relate to music baffles me. There is something deep inside that screams and thumps in perfect synchronization with something in our hearts and in our minds that puts us at rest. Maybe it is manufactured by the rythm of the heart itself, true natural music. Or perhaps it is more of what i like to think; one thing that was put in every one of us to unify man under one beat...


Thank you that I am alive moment:
Being able to set loose all inhibitions and expectations, loose track of all normality, and return to primal in order to run free and naked along a beautiful, quiet, tranquil, dark, starry, endless beach.......freedom.....  ¶ 5:28 PM 2 Comments

  How do they do it! Just about every day I think of 5 more things i want to write about but my lack of a portable computer severly cuts down the amount of actual blogging I take part in. SOme topics I would explore further but out of lack of time I will bullet point include:

• The children fat epidemic in America is being blammed all on food and meal plans. What about those 7 hours a day children sit docile in seats with little to no physical stimulation. Do you really think we were made to be dormant and "learn" for half of our days for our childhood years? Am I the only one who sees this corilation?
• What is the difference between an emotion caused by a real situation and an emotion caused by the thought of a real situation? In my case nothing. I have learned that it is simply enough to think that something is going on and automatic emotional response takes over. Sometimes this becomes quiet annoying when, in fact, you spend an entire evening spent with emotions and learn the next day the subject of your outbreak was a figment of your imagination; a hypothetical situation that has yet to occur or may never happen.
• I am 18. Does that really mean anything? I find a common attitude of birthday goers to downplay the birthday scene. "Just another day older than I was yesterday. NOthing special here". To this I respond, hell it is okay to celebrate even if it is all man made. Celebration is necesary. Celebrate that 365 days have passed since you last doubed yourself 17 time measurements and now, you can change that big old 17 to an 18. And even if this number is something assigned to me, I can't help but be excited for the societal benefits that fall into place; I can vote, I can smoke, I can rent a hotel, I can call an infomercial, I can have legal sex....okay so maybe I won't be taking advantage of all these but I don't need to enjoy the fact that they are recognized, country-given rights..however much that is worth.

And now I write to you one of my biggest observations of the week. This may sound a little Ms. Denny, but life is full of symbols. Smaller systems representing larger ones, younger people living after the old, colors standing above and beyond themselves. One symbol, however, that I wish would not exist in my life is The Gym. Behold the all mighty Gym. After repeated phone calls from men with deep voices calling themselves "Bruce", I have decided that the gym is a mini-cosm of the large coorporate machine that resides in the USA. Now, don't judge me here, I have proof of my conclusion. First off, the gym sells unnecesary goods. If we really needed a gym to stay healthy, there would be would in nature...wait a minute, there is! It is called the great outdoors. AFter learning that the public will not go rent itself a canoe, run a triatholon, or even walk their own dog after repeated commercials featuring young athletic tan males sporting their six-packs, America has had to invent a way to sell fitness. Thus we have the gym. This mimics the functioning of our capitalist system, where countless items are made which are unnecesary. For instance, there are more kinds of hair-care products than hopstials in the entire US, when really all we need is shampoo. But where a need for smooth hair exists (or smooth thighs in our case), the producer responds with more useless products, and the invention of the gym. So, now we have the unnecesary gym selling itself as the key to a happy lifestyle. If the entire existence of the gym is not enough, then we have the marketing of it. For those of you who don't know, I do not belong to any gym because I dance each day, thus eliminating the desire to pump iron to stay fit. But occasionally, when the dance season momentarily subsides, I borrow a free pass or two and enjoy a recreational day of gym going. Necesary? No, but sometimes it is enjoyable. The catch to enjoying one "free" day at the gym is not when you find you are being watched by the creapy sweaty man on the elyptical machine, but rather when that waver you signed earlier becomes a permission slip for unlimited harrassing phone calls from your own personal sales men. I have now been contacted by the gym approximately 7 times about special memberships and have been encouraged to take advantage of the situation. The first few times I felt special, like as if the man on the phone genuinely cared for my health, but after call number 5, my suspisions began to change. No matter how friendly they seem, I have discovered that the men on the other end of my phone line do not care whether or not my membership will bring America one step closer to figthing obesity, but rather he cares about the commission he will receive when I sign my life over in check form. The gym today is opporating under the terms of capitalism: "Make them think you care about their needs and what is best for them because only then will you get the money you actually want". Car salesmen do it, healthfood companies do it, the gym is the mother ship of doing it. Selling something that could be had for free, promising you need it and they will give you the best deal, and then guilt tripping you into forseeing your premmature obese death, the gym has done it all.......ladies and gentlemen, I rest my case.

Well, I am feeling fat. I g2g to the gym. Later

  ¶ 5:04 PM 2 Comments