Exceptional. or not.

Now I must choose. Tumblr or Blogger? Originally I started my Tumblr to vent on those confusion emotions concerning a man or just things I didn't want anyone to really know. Just to have them out there...then I started following people, and they started following back, and the whole point of "no one reading this" was lost. Now I don't know what to do with that other than just look at the pretty pictures, because all my thoughts fouf away as soon as I hit the dashboard.

Here however, it's still quiet, and I like it like that.

My laptop has 30 minutes left on its battery, and it's time to go to sleep, anyway. I don't know why I stayed up past midnight. What do I know, anyway. I know for a second, and then half an hour or so later, it's all gone, replaced by images of high heels, Dior, balloons, Jason Statham. Stratham. I can never remember his last name. The guy from Transporter who's been on tv all day.

Three days until two deadlines and I am so behind it's not funny. I sing this song a lot but I can't get it out of my system. It's my earworm, my cross, my fatal flaw.

Anyway. "My Love" by The Bird and the Bee is my happy song right now. That, I know. I know also another reason Tumble is losing its status as my go-to venting spot: I'm done with the whole thing that took my about two years to get over. About time, says I. I wasted a lot of energy on stupidity, but then, I couldn't help it. That's what makes it worse.

Now, this fatal flaw - this I can help. I think I can, anyway. Sometimes; like now. Tomorrow I'll probably be dying of either apathy or desperation and helplessness. Also Valentine's Day is coming up and I have never wanted to be with someone on that date. This year is no different because no one is good enough for me.

That's what I believe. Maybe not "good enough," but "on my patience level." It seems dumb, but I am afraid of losing patience gradually until I am ready to kick my significant other. Ha. I have a sneaking suspicion that I shall be forever alone. And, you know, I'm kind of becoming okay with that. Whatever will come.

I don't even know what I want, for real. A friend posted some things that would capture her heart.. for me it would be these:

1) Please. Don't care too much about sports. Or better yet, let's not have cable at all.

I will continue later. My battery is at 7% and my energy level is lower, and I feel that late-night loopiness coming on.

Good night, non-existent readers. I'm glad you haven't been replaced by people with faces and names. (The Fish is always the exception.)

Roses.

For my birthday a few weeks ago I got a bouquet of English tea roses. They were beautiful, but are even more beautiful now...the two weeks of neglect caused them to dry out as they were: plump and colorfully tinged. I cut them off their stems, and, along with some dried baby's breath and fallen petals, stored them in a metal contained labelled Choc Twist.

Perhaps I'll take some pictures and post them, someday. Until that day, I leave you with this photo and the realization that I really, really love roses and tulips.

It Feels Like Redemption.

Last night I fell asleep trying to tell myself that everything would work out all right in the morning. I woke up in the morning after a tumultuous dream and felt that everything most certainly would not be all right. In fact I wanted to spit on Fine Arts, on church, on everyone and everything.

But I started right, for once in a few months. I read a good chunk of Nehemiah, and amid the crowd of names and barely-started stories (the man who built a portion of the city walls with the help of his daughters. The man who built the portion of the wall directly across from his house), I found something resembling peace.

I'm so glad I helped down in kid's church today. There is something soothing about the simplicity of worship songs that started in super church that I can find nowhere else. We sang Shout to the Lord and the one chorus from Psalm 139... I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful - I know that full well. That chorus kept me going from one thing to another in the next few hours of meetings and ideas and stressful moments. My utter failure at ad-libbing during choir.

If that sounds bitter, it wasn't meant to be. In fact I would say that today was nice. I liked the fast pace. I liked the luxury of relaxing and talking with a friend after everything. I liked making people laugh.

There are many things I would've done differently - there always are. I am not regretting anything, though. That's why I am so content right now, I believe: no regrets. Just remembrances of the many good things sprinkled throughout.

I am not perfect, but I am loved. That, too, is why I can sit now and be content. Nothing more to do for the moment. I can take a few hours of rest and it can be healing, sitting alone in my living room, listening to a winter playlist and letting my thoughts roll around in my head. Perhaps I'll make some popcorn.

Hold on to what You Believe.

After all that's been happening - nothing monumental, just events and a more hectic schedule - you'd think I would have many thoughts surging out of my fingers...but no. I am just tired. Not overwhelmingly tired; just in need of a quiet moment of complete contentedness.

What would that look like nowadays, I wonder. Now that I shall turn eighteen in two days, a legal adult with legal responsibilities and no more excuses for procrastinating adult-like things (such as my driver's license and college). Now that I feel so torn in every direction, every emotion vital and life changing one moment and the next flat and stupid. Now that what I know in my heart to be true is battered about in my head.

It would look like this:

My favorite songs playing one after the other on the radio.

My favorite people sitting around me, all of us in harmony, in that comfortable place people who've known each other inside and out get into when they are all together.

Not a thought of the future to be found.

Or, if the thoughts are there, then there is peace to be found along with them.

Where is this moment? I was looking for it all night tonight and the thought of perhaps missing it because of my spacing out took me a good two hours to get over.

Oh man. One thought after another. Really, this does not do me any good. Good night.

I

I can't promise you that I won't let you down

And I

I can't promise you that I will be the only one around

When your hope falls down

But we're young

Open flowers in the windy fields of this war-torn world

And love

This city breathes the plague of loving things more than their creators

I ran away
I could not take the burden of both me and you
It was too fast
Casting love on me as if it were a spell I could not break

When it was a promise I could not make

But what if I was wrong?

But hold on to what you believe in the light

When the darkness has robbed you of all your sight

And now this land

Means less and less to me without you breathing through its trees

At every turn

The water runs away from me and the halo disappears

And the hole when you're not near

So what if I was wrong?

But hold on to what you believe in the light

When the darkness has robbed you of all your sight

But hold on to what you believed in the light.

December 5th, I Think.

How did I cultivate a sense of wonder in my life in 2010.

I began to believe in magic, in the sheen of a secret side to every situation and every thing. Results - I paid attention to dandelions. I blew bubbles. I celebrated 10.10.10 at 10:10:10. I felt voices rather than heard them (Dave Matthews, David Gray, Marcus Mumford, Josh Ritter).

Wow...I didn't realize until now how much I really did try to cultivate this sense of wonder. Maybe not in those words, but that's what happened. I am a short-term type of person - what to do in the next few hours, what happened in the past day or two. Beyond that, memories and thoughts go to a place in my mind where they are laminated and, upon need of them or sudden remembrance, they are clear to me as the day it happened. But everything is not in my head at one time, or at least, not everything that's ever happened to me.

I know it's not uncommon but I liked realizing it. Self-knowledge was another thing I was working on this year, I think. And information, always more information - the inhaling of facts and ideas and skills and stories. There is always that.