Manifestos.

Feels weird to like someone again. Of course it's someone I can't be with - but at least he's not ridiculously older than me this time. haha. It feels nice though.. the small clenching of the heart upon sight of him, the smiles that he brings about with everything he does.

I'm enjoying this, even as it goes nowhere. I'm enjoying liking someone and not being ashamed about it. It's the realization that love is nothing to be ashamed about, that the investment of our hearts in someone is a good and noble thing.

I will never again be ashamed to tell someone I love them.

Weepies

Woke up and wished that I was dead

With an aching in my head

I lay motionless in bed

I thought of you and where you'd gone

And let the world spin madly on

Everything that I said I'd do
Like make the world brand new

And take the time for you

I just got lost and slept right through the dawn

And the world spins madly on

I let the day go by

I always say goodbye

I watch the stars from my window sill

The whole world is moving and I am standing still

Woke up and wished that I was dead

With an aching in my head

I lay motionless in bed

The night is here and the day is gone

And the world spins madly on

I thought of you and where you'd gone..

And the world spins madly on.

Processes

Last year at Convention there were many moments of loneliness; the year before, too. I simply didn't know what to do with myself when no one was near me - in fact, I don't think I knew what to do when people were around me, either. Many good memories during those years, but also moments of distinct loneliness.

But not this year. This past year I grew into the process of finding myself, of finding peace in being alone and in the confidence of my personality and my relationships. So, confidence. Assurance. Peace. All good traits that helped me this year to grow closer than ever to people, traits that helped me focus on the things I needed to focus on when I needed to. A little bit of rest in the middle of hectic activity.

And even in my insecurities, I find things to be secure in (not because of any of my talents, although there are some things that I know are in my hand, but because of the people God's blessed my life with. Their steady love and support keep the edges of my mind happy, even as my heart goes through expansions).

A Dog Returning to Its Vomit.

I've been keeping up with NaPoWriMo. Around this time last year is when I started to falter, but it's been going well. Last night it was hard to force the words to come out like I wanted them to, and free-writing just wasn't working, so I pretty much vomited on the page and shrugged it off.

But I like the result.

a foaming mouth

a raging soul

spastic teeth chewing at my stomach

phlegm and synonyms

ripping through my clenched mouth

I'll make this personal,

I'll make

a pile of steam and raw meat

pre-rolled in grey matter

hand-carved, half-digested

holy mother of God,

I hate poetry.

I'm growing my nails out, since there hasn't been any music lessons for a couple weeks, and nail polish makes me happy. It may be the fumes. I'll enjoy this while I can. Next week is Fine Arts and that means they have to go; next week is convention and Hershey Park and midnight ice cream parties. I'm excited; I'm ready.

And then Easter, and a new dress to wear. Is it wicked to love the new dress every Easter?

Black Cherry Tea and a Cold Night

Sometimes I need the compliments. I like them all the time, but sometimes I just need them. But I realized today that people need to be loved all the time. We can't take breaks or holidays from loving each other, because then everyone suffers.

It should be a constant thing in this ever-changing world, and if I had realized this sooner, I might have saved myself much speculation. The people who love me don't stop once they don't see me. Love continues; the kind of love I know, anyway.

As I get ready to burn that midnight oil again, I remember this and remember that I am loved for more than my abilities and usefulness - I am loved for who I am. That, perhaps, makes me happier than nearly anything, even more than the lovely new watercolors I have.

Good night, my friend. It was good to see you again today, even if only for a second or two. I loved sitting next to you Sunday, and laughing together. I hope you're holding up in the situations of your life, and know that I'm still here, and still thinking and praying for you.

Would you like some songs?

Here Comes the Sun Again - M. Ward

Everybody's Changing - Lilly Allen (or Keane).

Washed Away - Joe Purdy

California Stars - Wilco

Dark Blue - Jack's Mannequin

asdfghjkl

Yesterday the family and I went to a craft store as a field trip. I bought a palette, new watercolors, and a few different ribbons for the ideas floating around in my mind.

I came home with another headache, and fell asleep before music school. After not practicing all week because of schoolwork and extreme distractedness, I was almost happy for the headache.

As I lay on the couch half an hour before we had to leave, I debated whether or not to go. I decided to, based on wanting to live a life outside of staying inside all the time. Small steps.

My teacher was very understanding; I was grateful. The notes were swimming as I played, and I had to scramble for nearly every note, but I got through it. Then music theory class - always fun, and I am a little bit adept at that sort of thing. Syncopation and scales and melodic dictation...I'm getting better.

Then we went to the library. I dropped off a movie that I never watched. Then Giant where we ran into the youth pastor and his wife.

There are so many thoughts in my head that don't really make sense, or that I don't trust to anyone else. Thoughts I'm too ashamed and unsure to share.

But I am keeping up with NaPoWriMo. Ups and downs, but there are still some things that I can do. Tumblr is keeping me distracted. Not doing as much reading this school year. Wanting to puke every time I think about college and having to decided and move on with my life.

Here is the honest truth: my wish would be to go and become involved with food. But that would be like cheating on this journalism thing that I'm called to.

But maybe I should stop justifying why exactly this is where I should be and just go after it.

Courtesy of Tumblr:

Breathe by Anna Nalick

Dark Blue by Jack's Mannequin

Helplessness Blues

"Gold hair in the sunlight

My light in the dawn

If I had an orchard

I'd work till I'm sore

If I had an orchard

I'd work till I'm sore"