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Drink · expensive · wine
and solve the world's problems
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-I'm studying for my Psychology of Adjustment midterm exam.
-While studying I mixed a new nail polish color - gold + maroon + orange sparkle + deep red
-I have 2 letters I really want to write, but only seem to be interesting in taking the time to write them when I have others things I need to be doing.
-I don't want to graduate. I don't want to work everyday. I don't want to get an apartment. The thought of the real world isn't congruent with my self perceived age.
-lists....
Speaking of adjustment...
Supposedly daily life hassles are harder to deal with than major life events because daily hassles are more persistent, and social support isn't as available for them. I deal so well with daily life hassles, but my major life events aren't even identified, never mind coped with. Graduation for example. But that’s a small one compared to the issues I let break my heart over and over. More often than not these issues are actually people. I've been told that since you can't control other people’s actions you need to alter your own behaviors to adapt to them, or your thoughts to deal with them. Bah. I don't do this; I let others actions stab my heart over and over. I assume fault when in fact no blame is even being dished. In general, when a situation arises, I am able to assess it and see a viable answer. The answer is not always the best, and I don't always take the action to implement that answer. I do know an answer is there and I do know what my actions are, and when there is a gap I recognize it. The problem as of late is that situations, especially those involving my heart, are remaining too fuzzy for me to distinguish a solution. Basically, I care for people that hurt me. I don't want to stop caring, because when you care for someone from your heart it feels good. I can cope with unreciprocated emotions. The pain comes from unresolved caring and from others actions and words not matching. I want emotions to be defined, and often the fine, yet walkable line becomes a fuzzy mile that we shout over. Imagine trying to communicate by sign language through a 10 foot wall of fog. Care a lot or a little, in the middle or not at all, but when you figure out where you stand, tell me. It doesn't need to be itemized and spelled out, but mixed signals have never been clear to anyone, and I am not any different. Let's accept reality and have faith that words do not in fact kill anyone. To shield myself from this seemingly inevitable pain, I have chosen a special and important part of myself to disguise, and hide away. I know its there, but have no way of showing anyone else without a booby trap exploding before the message is received. I can't move on because I of the fog. I can't start new because of the walls. I feel mute. I want to share my secrets but don't think any one wants to hear them. I do understand that there are people who will listen, but I want more than that, I want someone who will ask about them, and relish in my reveal, rather than listen so that they can pay relationship dues, or listen so they can then talk.
But where am I found in this spectrum? Do I listen and relish? Do I listen to talk? Am I being all that I can, should, and want to be? Do I want to be that? Am I just assessing who I am so that I can further judge who you are without guilt?
Also, why do I type my entries in the text box and then cut them into word to look for spelling and grammar errors, and then cut back into the text box? Why not just start in word? |
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I am red. The blood surges through my body to fingertips and toes. It drains back to my heart as I exhale. My beat quickens as if to deny any logic my mind might bring to light. Red is encompassing. I battle with words and fists dripping in crimson. I am red.
I am gold. Blind without question to all that is not coming from within. That which drives me. Instinct and essence and all that shimmers. Differentiation from the animal kingdom. Stages and canvas, rhyme and beat, alliteration and meter. The meanings of life. When gravity won't let you soar, gold will still be worth its weight. I am gold.
I am green. Spying through peripheral vision at where I wish I was. Never enough to have. I am never enough to deserve the other side of the fence. A parasitic abyss spreading throughout my mind and body. Born of blue and yellows defamation. I am green.
I am blue. The union of the sky and sea entangles me in the blue of life. Dreams transcend the night dissolving my slumber as they open my eyes to the opportunity of the day. As the wind carries a ruffle to the leaves whispering a secret of serenity I see a picture bigger than the moment. I close my eyes. I am blue.
I am yellow. Every birth has its death; every inhale is followed by an exhale. An age old full circle rooted in the carbon that is our air, water, and diamond. It is sun, it is moon, it is light. I am yellow. |
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Dear Reader, Let it be know that I did NOT drive drunk, nor did I let anyone without a license drive my car. I apologize for not being clear, but that was a DREAM. I woke up think it was true but within seconds realized that it wasn't. I wanted to give you a similar experience when reading it. All of the last entry was a product of my unconscious mind. Drunk driving is not acceptable, and I would hope that you readers know that I would not roll that way. If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to contact me. all apologies,
-julie |
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I woke up at 2:27 am.
Ben Folds was playing and I could not figure out where I was. The details of
the night spun my head in circles.
I was so drunk that TOM had to drive??? TOM DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO DRIVE!!
I could swear I wasn't driving poorly, but I guess that’s
what a drunk driver always says. Paul was next to me in the passenger’s seat.
He looked afraid and at a three way stop he asked, no make that demanded me to
get out of the car. I guess Paul knew he couldn't do a better job, and without
words Tom opened his door and climbed out of the back into the driver’s seat.
He put on his seat belt and adjusted the rear view mirror. Paul was telling him
that we could figure out a better plan, that he didn't have to drive, we could
call someone, or walk, or anything else.
Tom, Paul, Jarrad and I were drinking margaritas as this bar
on the bay. Out on the patio we stood by tall tables and celebrated the play.
Jarrad had gone inside to get a refill, and as he was walking back towards us
we could see that he had a funny story to tell us, it was all he could do to
not burst out laughing dead in his tracks. We leaned in close and he whispered
"they stiffed the 'tender", giggling in between the words and looking
sideways back at the building. His inebriated costars that were on their 3rd or
4th round, stood a few tables over from us. We were shocked and left before we
could be linked to their deviance. Jarrad headed back to his place while the
rest of us piled into the escort to return to the Dell.
Tom drove like a pimp. The seat was reclined back and the
music loud. He kept turning to the back seat to talk to me. I was panicking and
offered him anything (even to make out) for him to just look at the road and be
cautious.
I woke up listening to Ben Folds and being really hot. I
tried to focus my eyes but couldn't find anything identifiable.
Am I in the back of my car? I must've passed out on the ride home! They
probably didn't want to wake me... I hope we didn't get into an accident.......
I turned to my right and saw glowing green numbers: 2:27.
Oh, my alarm is set. I am in my bed.. haha, I have to get up in 3 1/2
hours... ridiculous.
Turns out I left my music on all night and without my
contacts or glasses on I couldn't recognize my room. Still half asleep I knew
this was too funny to forget so I reached for my writing journal and scribbled
down the details squinting at the pages in the dark.
"Dreaming permits each and every one of us to be quietly and safely insane
every night of our lives." -William Dement
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Life is a game. I've been told its not about who is winning or losing, if those terms can even apply to this game. The game in general has a negative connotation, and an elusive denotation. What is this game? When is it being played, or better yet, is it ever not being played?
If I said I hate the game, I think I would get a resounding "amen". But realistically I can't say that. The ups and downs and more importantly the mystery of it enthralls me.
But that’s beside the point.
The game holds me. Sometimes it’s in the dark of the night, alone in my bed when I feel embraced in the warmth of the game. Restless nights have been known to wrap the game around my neck. Nonetheless I sleep and wake with the game.
Sometimes the game doesn't just hold me, but rather holds me back. I declare the anonymity of the internet as my witness right here and now as I renounce the game.
I will no longer be held back by what the games tells me to do. I will say the words that need to be said to friends that need to hear it. I will no longer play coy, or hope for bonus points for every aloof moment. I will tell people I love them, and care for them. I will tell people they are hurting me and disrespecting me. I will listen to my heart to the fullest extent possible.
Friends and lovers get ready, the rules have just changed. |
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[re: the more you know...]
On average I have been sleeping at 9+ hours a night. I get up around 9 or 10 and clean or read the paper or whatever occupies me for some amount of hours, then around 3 or 4 I take a nap. Not a power nap, a real good 2+ hour nap. This is only natural since I am a college kid home on vacation. But my body was trained to function on a fraction of that amount of sleep during the semester, so my body is kind of shocked. So what happens is I sleep lightly, and therefore remember allllllll my dreams. Every night and every nap I remember at least one or two dreams. My newest thing is to continue the same dream all night. If I had dreams about cupcakes and unicorns remembering them would be fantastic. Instead I have dreams about my dad coming to my mom's house and demolishing it with a sledge hammer, and being stuck on a bus that is out of control and everyone is hurting everyone else. Not once this entire vacation have I gone to bed, or woken up and not felt uneasy. I know it stems from whatever is unresolved inside of me. Trouble is, I barely know what 'it' is, never mind how to fix it. I can't wait to get back to school and be sleep deprived again.
that pretty much pieces together the sleep reference. other random facts will be explained later as i have time. stay tuned... |
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I've been here before.
It's not the geographical location of home, or the temporary unemployment. It can't be the loss of friends; I've gone longer without them. I know I have been sleeping more than necessary, but I don't think that is it either.
It, whatever it is, has crawled into the pit of my stomach and is stabbing at my insides.
I never was good at differentiating the problem from the symptoms, and they say knowing is half the battle.
I have discovered a problem/symptom: I look for the right things in the wrong places, or the wrong things in the right places.
Mainly this comes down to love. I want it where I shouldn't, and where it maybe I look the other way. I lay awake in bed at night and think of all the ways I could be confused into thinking the feelings I have are really not feelings at all. I know that short of some fairy tale miracle, I can't handle love. (as I write this my heart screams: 'I can handle love, be my fairy tale!') The saddest part is, I don't know when I will be able to, or what is stopping me. I have thought a lot about this, its circular reasoning, and I am way too scientific for it.
Affinity for heights.
Fear of falling.
In a moment of drunken angst, I texted a friend those two line. She boomeranged advice I'd give her right back to me: "Bite off more than you can chew. Then chew it." I'm not sure if it was the advice or the fact that she was there for me at 3 A.M. that made me feel better. Either way, I smiled and fell asleep on the floor.
It's more than love. The all encompassing Life has been ticking away. Lately I have known that something is about to explode. I'm sitting on the edge of my seat, and waiting for the debris. |
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in an effort to stop time and freeze what we will never be able to recreate we reconvened in 523 where we knew the magic lived. flipping through channels and listening to animated stories and dance from Paul we drank, not so much for the altered consciousness (though a welcomed benefit), but because we knew it was allowing us to embrace company and disregard the clock. Ben Fold's and Paris Hilton; fear of needles and donating blood races; cigarettes. ( but i always say that you shouldn't write things down when you aren't sober because if you don't remember when sobriety returns you weren't meant to know it) the hallway always had an elite almost secretive aspect and though there was no one to escape we needed the comfort that we knew we had found there before. so as Ryan stood at the wall, Paul in the chair, and me on the stair we watched and listened as Melissa read poetry on the floor of the doorway. right then something was happening that none of us could put into words, so we pretended the poems where meaningful and hoped the next one would be the one that could spell out what our hearts and heads could only feel. one after another and still we were left alone in the group, the connection was so strong we couldn't make eye contact or speak or breath for fear of well, pretty much everything but the moment. i broke the rules and grabbed my notebook from my purse. i'll leave you with the scribbles.
willows
and the indifference
without the ____
of how 4 people
a stair, wall, floor and chair
share all of life
in the flipping pages
of 5 AM.
-------------------------------
and then from
peace comes
more questions
than sustainable
so with the pause
comes the words
we mistake for passion
and the intention for
seemingly _____less
lives. |
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Am I validated by my successes -or- do my successes validate me?
The success-failure continuum has me again questioning my intentions. Admittedly I am no longer just treading water, but how far can the doggie paddle actually get me? Insecurities are at not weaken, just confronted more often. I can't help but wonder if they are more present, or I'm just hyper sensitive to them.
My attention has turned to science as of late. Physiology, biology, research, physics, statistics. When nothing existential makes sense I turn to hard science for comfort. Science does not recognize love. I think that's where it all began. It is not within my reality to comprehend even the existence of such an anomaly, and frankly why should I? Love is procreation.
Where exactly does the mind-over-matter argument begin and end? Is there really anything distinguishing cognition and reality? Reality is indisputably subjective in its recognition, so if you believe wholly in anything, won't it already be a truth? Is circular reasoning valid anywhere a laboratory cannot be applied?
to be continues... |
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not happy with second best
pride is a factor in selflessness
the strongest thread is holding me
apathy turning to anger to apathy
I turn to sedation for fiction
words become weapons of destruction
maturation shown the light beyond physical
though solutions are rarely replicable
only open the door with expectations
visitors welcome pending invitation
priorities aren't judged by responsibility
life is a complex array of simplicity
living is a tool manipulated talent
fantasize your eternal balance
you can't wish solace without despair
mind over matter brings us no where
irrespectively goals will be set
sleep to dream; dream to forget. |
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So it was today, right about now actually, and I was leaving campus to go to work and driving driving this kid Brian somewhere on m way. As soon as I leave campus I realize that my breaks aren't working. At all. So after running a few stop signs and scaring the shit out of some people that I almost hit, I managed to pull the car over into someone's yard and using the E-brake stopped my car inches before a pond. So this family comes out to help us and I am absolutely hystercial. They are a really nice family and invite us in, which we accept. There are three kids (all boys), the two parents, and a grandmother. The boys are all obsessed with Harry Potter and explain to me that they are writing their own book that is similar. The parents are crazy and hate us; they are acting like we are going to curupt the kids even though the worst thing I've said around them was "dammit". The grandmother looks and acts like a murderer. She keeps going out side to smoke cigarettes even though it is absolutly pooring rain. So after about 2 hours of being there and not getting anything accomplished, I realize that I have to call work and tell them I am going to be late. Problem - I don't get reception on my cell. I ended up getting through to them a few minutes after my shift started and they told me it was too late, and to not bother. They said it would count as two write-ups and i wouldn't be able to work for two days. I kept getting disconnected, but calling back, and asking them if I am fired or not. The I give up and go back to my car, in the pooring rain and i think somehow I fixed it or woke up right them. Anyway it was crazy. |
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A pile of gears, numbers and hands compiled to remind me that I am late, continually ticking away existence No denying my dislike
for the measurement of Time
specifically its undeniability I won't argue with the
rising moon, changing tides, noontime sun
though I have tried Discounting the clock
didn't stop the calender's pages
and I fear
embracing it will lead to
an ironic ignorance I want not only to
Use, but Abuse it
to the core.
My victory will lie
in a vengeance sweeter
than simplicity |
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the snow - Stop (what I want - I shouldn't
what I have - I don't want
what I need - I passed up) 4 drinks, 3 friends, and 2 feet of snow, can't defeat this. I'll admit to being lost; to concession; to not being as strong as i wanted. I am 22 and trying hard. It's not enough now, and I don't know when it will ever be, but I won't give up. I will be responsible for my mistakes, for my missteps, for my verbal errors. Definitions are best left in books. I'd rather spend another night awake than apologize for your blunders. If you feel like you are climbing a mountain know that someday you will be climbing down. |
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I watched Good Will Hunting for the first time tonight. Mary, Candice, and Jocelyn had all seen it before. They knew what was coming, talked through irrelevant parts, and stopped to listen to important ones. I sat quietly never knowing what the next scene would be. yah, sometimes life can be like that. |
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I woke up like one minute ago, so pardon the writing style. I am better after coffee.
In the dream I was watching a play, but not intentionally i think. We were passing through the auditorium, and the play started so we (the entire audience)all sat down.It ended badly, very badly. Ever one was running out, as was I. Outside I met up with the girls I was with, and remember feeling very insecure about how short I was. I was too short to be hanging out with these talk girls [such a random part of the dream]. So I went off with one of the so-called "cooler" girls and we were just hanging out. we ended up on a hill side that had a drastic cliff on the side of it. We were laying at the peek and looking down at the city below. I was not afraid of heights in the dream. there were wires running along the edge where we were, they looked like power lines, or tension wires. This girl that we were friends with came over to us, she was walking along the verticle cliff part and using the wire to balance her. Thats when the hill side fell away. The first girl and I grabbed on to the wires, and fell to the ground stretching them out. The other girl was now stuck up on the wires in the air. Hers hadn't stretched. I was on the ground and terrified. I didn't want to let go of my wire, because I thought I would send her flying. And to add to it, I comtemplated acting like I wasn't strong enough to hold on to it so someone else would take it and rid me of responsibility.
whats it suposed to mean? |
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Infinity standing still motionless in the wake of reality. The ocean never laughs or cries
but longs for something more
whispering through the rocks
secrets of silence. I'm fighting the words
of beauty and solace
that shouldn't be given
to me, here or now. The fisherman reels in the line
throws back his catch
and casts again.
He never rolls back
his dress shirt sleeves
because he knows
this moment is temporary,
life is not waiting for him. Is he afraid of success
as I am?
What will be left to do
when all the fish are caught?
He reels, releases and casts again. The tide comes in
swallowing rocks
back into infinity
and I can't help
but feel disposable
as if my existence
will never be acknowledged
by the waves. |
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I saw the lightening and thought the day was breaking once gone, the night screamed of absence the lingering thunder shattered all hope I should know better
I've seen this storm before
brutal power of destruction
subtly masked as beauty A split second of light
is no reason to stand in the rain
these winds should caress me,
not knock me down have I ever been blind?
beauty is known only by the heart
and I'm thinking I'll redefine
you or beauty
these definitions aren't holding strong |
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starving for the night the skies filled with hope graze into infinity and see the illusion I'll never let go of the stars Shadows drenched in solace
discard solitude, embrace the indecision of time
your heart will guide the way
through eternal night tide and say "this is the end"
the screaming heartbeats
fight reality
because the singularity of tonight
will never be recreated |
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2 drinks too many I can't see the road I'm falling into you society whatever happened to standing tall drunk with freedom
I forgot the power I hold
But truth be told
society
your second chances
never run out I won't change the world
until I become myself
society
but sure as I crawl
I will walk Ignorance is the simplist problem
it's apathy we need to attack
tell me I can't do it alone
society
but your devices are working against you
creating a coalition
to bring about
your demise. |
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it's not about the metaphors I played the games even when I was my only enemy but the words are such a thrill
to me
I curse scream
yell and whisper
everyone of them
except the ones my heart
was spelling out I'm terrified of being strong
but you don't win the game
if you don't
swing the bat so i stand here naked
stripped of all the cryptic games
speaking only in
the morse code of my heart the only truth
that has ever come of me |
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