Maybe I

Who would’ve thought 21 would be the year that I start looking after my health?

It’s Rosie’s 21st birthday, and I think she had a great time. I got to see a few friends and coworkers as well, which is nice since I go back to school in a few days and I’ll miss them all terribly. Things went well, didn’t have to listen to that “I should’ve just gone to bed” song, though thank you, Ryan, for trying to reinforce my good habits.

I’ve been petsitting for two dogs, two cats, and a chameleon over the last five days or so, and although it’s a little annoying driving 15 minutes out of the way every day, I really don’t mind the responsibility. It’s helped motivate me to not drink too much during the night and wake up early in the mornings. I’m wayyy too much of a morning person, so seeing the beautiful skies at 8AM have been really inspiring and breathtaking.

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I’ve come across that conflicted feeling again of wanting to share these beautiful thoughtful moments with someone or if it’s just something I should cherish on my own. I will always cherish them, however I’m not sure why I’m starting to yearn to share such moments. I don’t know what I would expect anyone to say in response, and sometimes I don’t think there are words that could describe it. Are all people like this? Is there some random passion, random beauty, for everyone out there? Something that others just might not understand, so instead they yearn for some kind of mutual understanding? Maybe I should ask my friends, but I’m worried that a few of them will just say “fireball.”

Coming home hasn’t been exactly what I expected. I’ve been fighting off a cold most of the time so far, so I’m trying to make sure I get enough rest which is unusual enough in itself. I got to spend a lot of time with my sister while she was here, and I’m really happy about that. It almost felt like when we were still living together, before she even went to college. It was definitely tougher saying goodbye to her, but I’ll always put on that supportive face.

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The restaurant has been about the same, some people you love, some people you can’t stand. I think I’m falling into a rut with it honestly. I’ve always had these exciting yet dreadful thoughts of moving, and recently they haven’t seemed so bad. I will always be thankful for the time I’ve had in my hometown, but I think the universe is telling me that it’s okay to move on soon. Big things are happening for me, hidden somewhere in this cosmic energy, and I can’t wait to unleash it.

I did a chakra cleansing/activating meditation today, opening my crown and third eye chakras, which are supposed to influence intuition, so I’m listening to my intuition today; I forgot how much I enjoy eastern practices. Unfortunately, sometimes I think my intuition is tailored more to my desires and/or anxieties than to the universe. I’ve become to complacent, going by feel. In many cases, I admire that, but in certain cases, I need to remind myself to be rational.

(As I’m currently being tested)

Anyways, I just wanted to check in. My lofty thoughts are fading, though they’ve been abundant since I’ve been home. However, it’s late, and I have to be up early to take care of the animals. I’ll be back soon, I’m sure.

Love

 

 

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I Don’t Even Know the Question

What can I say about finals week… Sleep deprivation, I guess. Lots of anxiety. I might have heartburn? Who knows. But I’m ready to get the hell out, even if it’s only for 12 days.

So I’ve had this interesting dilemma. As you know, I like to write, and I’ve always hated reading and writing love stories that are entirely based around a relationship rather than some other major plot points (Nicholas Sparks doesn’t count as plot points, I’m sorry, he bugs me). In all, or at least most, of those love stories, you know who the person will or should end up with, if it works out yay if it doesn’t what a tragedy. Real life isn’t like that. There isn’t this be-all-end-all person that you know you should be with. Some people might like or dislike some of your romantic choices.

As someone who enjoys reflecting on her romantic choices, I had an idea. What if I wrote a book that had a realistic amount of love interests, something that took place over several years, and they all had their strengths and flaws, like regular human beings? I bet you different audiences would have different feelings about who the main character should end up with, and sometimes it’s powerful not pleasing everybody. Like I said, it’s realistic.

However, my dilemma. I have based my story, my characters almost entirely on my life story. Part of me wanted this, in a sadistic yet cathartic way. I enjoy romanticizing my relationships; it makes them more fun to miss. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize how hard it might be to go through all of these old emotions.

It’s important to me as a writer to accurately describe when someone is devastated by a loss, to embody just how empty she may feel. Of course, as I draw from personal experiences, I draw from personal emotions, and I didn’t understand how hard that would be. It’s literally just feeling sorry for myself again, something I don’t enjoy doing very often. I think the book has turned more into a letter to my exes, which could be very dangerous.

I’m barely halfway through my first boyfriend, and I’ve had to hold back tears, something I never thought I would have to experience with him again. But I suppose that when you are truly attached to someone, when you genuinely loved them, those feelings are going to come back no matter what. Not in a meaningfully romantic way, just as a reminiscent nod to the past.

It also doesn’t help to write these emotional moments to this song, but I suppose both are rather beautiful experiences.

I’ll let you know whether or not the book is worth publishing. Perhaps it’ll just become a memoir. All I know is it feels good to write again, especially when it means reflecting on your past choices. Sometimes you catch something you missed the first time.

Love

Backlit Cubicle

Relaxing Sunday evening my ass. It’s been a long yet short weekend traveling up to West Chester. It went by in the blink of an eye – something I’m hoping that will happen with the rest of this semester. The string of Christmas lights that normally lights my room is 3/4 burned out so, quite like me this semester, it’s hanging on by a thread.

Although my hair currently reminds me of Doc’s in Back to the Future, it’s nice to find some time to yourself. I may have left my razor at Lauren’s (oops), but I’m finding other ways to care for myself. I love the clay masks that leave me crimson, and the pride in using a netti pot and actually feeling like it’s doing something. Hopefully it will leave me more balanced than I have been feeling recently.

Karma struck again last Tuesday. More bad news, more cries for help. More keeping to myself in order to process instead of comforting those who would worry as much as I would about the news. May this green tea remedy work, and may my razor find its way back to me soon…

I’ve felt off-kilter emotionally lately, from a source I never would have expected – my family. I’ve always been very big on family. It’s how I was raised, I guess, to want your family close to you and close together. But something about it has put me in a sour mood. Sometimes I have these blips of emptiness, and I still can’t find where the stem from, but they have been occurring more often lately, mostly around my family, and I wonder, why now? Is there something about my family, some of the people I love most in this world, that makes me feel lonely? How can that be?

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Perhaps they are too together, too figured out for this green, broken spirit. Once I explore will I feel whole again? I wish I could pinpoint, but for now I’ll just wonder. If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that sometimes you can ask the question and you won’t find the answer right away. Many of my questions have gone unanswered, but when I find them I find them and for now I just have to be patient (something I’ve never been good at).

More lines were crossed, old lines, new lines. All very shaken, an earthquake hovering beneath the surface. I would rather the earth open and swallow me whole than deal with the cracking of that earthquake. So for now I choose to step carefully, ignorantly, as if things can still be okay.

All I know is I need to get out. I need my home to return to my home. I need a moment to figure myself out, and then I need to get the hell away from my hometown if I ever hope to overcome that ledge. I think it’s the only way, or at least the only way I can see. I always see the world so black and white (a cultural thing, I’ve learned), but there is always gray, and most of the time I fail to see it.

I do miss my homes, and I’m very close to seeing both of them. Very conflicted feelings.

I wish this entry would have been more of a revelation, an inspiration, but sometimes life just doesn’t work that way, and that’s okay.

Love