is that the best you could come up with?

I'm different, I march to the beat of my own drum, yadda, yadda, yadda and all that. I mean we are all different, that's what's truly beautiful about the world.  but lately I have been in way too many situations where people expect me to explain why I am the way I am. Like I am suppose to have a little note card totaling every life experience that has led me to be the person I am today to pass out to so people would  "get" me. The funny thing is that the person I am doesn't need to explain,apologize and/or make excuses for me or my actions. When I was younger, I used to try to explain but now it's more like "Here I am, take it or leave it" and I found it's better this way and that the relationships I have formed are more genuine. It's very liberating. Sometimes I wish that everyone said what they were thinking at the moment they were thinking it. It would definitely make for an interesting time. I figure they would be a lot of upset people but also a lot of happy people, because while I am cynical, I know people I thinking happy thoughts always.

memories as character builders

Remembering

I was in a convenience

store  on the way home and

in my hand appeared a grocery

list of my broken dreams.

I walked further into the

store,  “ Clean up on aisle three”

said the voice overhead in

reference to that smoldering  

summer I watched the

trees with falling

leaves made up of moments

that used to be as familiar as my

morning routine. One by one

they  fell to the ground

as the moment passed and became

past .

The gentle breeze caressed my face

and brought with it a scent that clung to my

clothes and transported me to that night

 we spent hours learning about each other

learning about ourselves.

We  looked up and the sky

had already danced with the moon

and dawn was taking its turn

for  only for a few moments

as the sky was saving its last

dance for the sun.

Did you know that the sidewalk

is concrete blocks of feelings

forever cemented and watermarked

on all the versions and definitions

of who I am and  who I will become.

I walked, losing and finding

 myself all at once. Remembering.

Reverence

The moment I learned to love,  

You tacked my beating heart on your wall.

From time to time you would 

wipe the pool of dripping blood

 never pausing to consider why its bleeding 

You’re used to the beating echos;

background music to your mundane 

routine, an everyday reminder of your worth. 

You are so carefree, never a thought to the day I would 

stop beating, its suffocating  loneliness,

I’ve been so thoughtless

I filled the open wound in my chest

with memories of our time on the last 

day of our world. Reverence was spelled out 

with each  stroke of your rough hands on my anticipating skin. 

Together, tangled, twittering in the overarching moment 

between, "I  belong with you, we were meant to be" and 

"I know your heartbeat, it’s not in tune with mine.

I'm Sorry

Other rough hands have made that faithful journey 

along my skin, teachers on  how to spell comfort, 

passion, regret, never reverence, never lasting, 

never forever.

Memories are tricky things. On a good day I can barely remember where I put my phone, keys and sometimes my sanity. I wrote these poems a long time ago and I forgot for while that I had written them because its not what I do. . The funny thing is I remember the exact feeling and moment in which I wrote these. They were stories that had to be told and I couldn't keep in. So I took pen to paper and when I looked down this was what was left. I am very proud of them. They were written months apart but the share the memories thing I didn't notice until writing this.  I am fascinated by memories, they are important to me in some way that I can't explain but I guess that's part of the journey. 

clumsy dreams, clumsy memories

I have endured many losses in my life, a father's love that should have been a birthright, but instead is a void filled with lies, resentment and empty promises. As an adult who has been somewhat jaded by the world. I remember a little girl no older than eight  waiting naively with a packed suitcase by the door  for a father who never came but believing week after week that it would happen in that way only a child could do. My mother never talked about my father, not in a good light and never in a bad one either and for that I am grateful and disappointed. I am glad I learned for myself about the kind of man he is while irrationally I wish she would have protected me from the truth she undoubtedly knew. While I know I am not the only girl with dad issues, hell men have capitalized on this for ages there are so plenty of us, I think my friends alone make out a good chunk of the percentage, its the dealing with it that makes all the difference. Now its not only the daddy issues that makes this girl, its a whole host of other experiences,this one is one I can't reconcile with for some reason. It clings to every relationship attempt, attempt because one way or another I will fuck it up. All I can say is introspection is a bitch.

I do not know why I just thought about this now, this was suppose to be a light and fluffy blog post about how I managed to burn the skin of my nose today ( as if I wasn't hideous enough) cooking. I manage to amaze even myself with the situations I get into.  I thought it was a boring life I was leading, little did I know about the spluttering hot oil with perfect aim. Even though it seems I will be okay, no skin grafts needed cause that would have been truly unfortunate, the pain was unbearable and neosporin can die cause it did nothing for the burn, I had to take like a million advils ( hello pain medication addiction) soon enough I will be doing a  fabulous 30 day stint in rehab  and writing a revealing tell all autobiography about my sordid if not fabulous/fierce past.

Oh if wishes were dreams.

Ruin'd Hopes

We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us. 
Joseph Campbell (1904 - 1987)

If we are dealt what we can handle, then I think someone overestimated my abilities, my strength and my character. I live in this volatile environment, where anything and everything is I do is tagged as having ulterior or sinister motive that I don’t have the energy to come up with because frankly, I am not that creative. I have been trying to handle not being free to do what I want and feeling like I am now achieving nothing with my life the way I have handled situations, head on. In order to curb my boredom, I have managed to pick up my old hobbies and some new ones. I am knitting (everyone is getting a scarf for Christmas), sewing, cooking and I am now a regular at the local library. I enjoy all these things and on some level I do enjoy the time off, but I wasn’t hardwired for this, I need to be busy. I think I am happier when I have a full schedule and I feel like I am contributing to society one way or another and knitting sweaters for people isn’t what I had in mind. I mean honestly, the most excitement I have had in the past couple of weeks is going the dollar theatre and watching Star Trek.

I feel like my life is slipping right though my hands with each day that I spend at home. It’s like I am waiting for something change, but I know that it’s me that has to make that change. Everyone around me seems to have their lives in order so to speak. I find myself being weary of going out around people because I know that inevitable “What are you doing now” question is going to be asked. I don’t have an interesting answer. I am not looking for outside approval. I could care less what people think, the problem lies with me and how I am disappointed in myself.  This life is not what I imagined or planned and learning to let go of plans and go with the flow is a hard pill to swallow. I like knowing where I am headed and why but lately I have no sense of direction and I am just going through the motions and hoping for the best.

I know the tide will turn. I just need it to happen now. 

As We Discover Who We Are

It's been a couple of months since I graduated from college and I don't think I have ever been as lost as I am now. I can't seem to make a decision or the decisions I make seem to blow up in my face and it seems that four years of a college education are no longer enough to get a freaking job. No matter though, I always wanted  time off after college and while its not on my terms its time off. For the first time ever I am complaining because I have nothing to do and not because I have too much to do. It's an adjustment to say the least, I find myself clinging to the old and familiar things just so I can feel connected to something. The thing is I want to move on, I am ready for new things but I don't know where to go or I am to get there.

I like to plan out things, I have always been a fan of knowing where I am going, but as of late its been one day at a time. Everyday is the same, but the feelings are different. I read a lot, listen to music and at watch movies, these are things I have always done, but now they are lifelines as well as teachers. I might be out of school but I am learning; about myself and the world. Over the years I have become self aware, introspection is now a daily exercise. I have taken to writing nightly journal entries but nothing so public and usually in erratic patterns and even though I always promise to make it constant I always seem to fail. I usually write when I am overwhelmed by a single emotion and its usually anger.

I have found that I express things I didn't even know I want to voice in poetry. I love how I can start with a certain idea but in the span of writing it turns into something completely different yet just what I wanted. I never think its good enough because I know people who have natural talent with words. Writing has always been a private thing for me and not a day goes by I don't wish I could go back and do college over again if not only to take the courses I wanted and not the ones I was expected to. So in the darkness lighted only by computer light I write and at the end of every sentence or stanza, there is a sense of accomplishment and my heart smiles then.

I do hope actually make this blogging thing a regular occurance, because it not as if I have anything else to do.