I just realized that it has been a few days since last I cried. In a way I'm amazed I didn't notice sooner. And yet I'm not totally surprised, because I haven't really felt a shift in mood. I still "feel" about the same. So I don't know if I'm having a shift in attitude(as in, letting go of stuff or becoming more comfortable), or if my body is just sort of cutting down on the emotional stuff for now. To be fair, its very difficult to go through that for long periods of time and be any sort of functional after a while. I just didn't think my body had a cutoff point. Still, I'm glad for the break. This week is going to be a little rough, and I might just want to cry by the end of it. I've never been part of a "professional" opera production, so its both exciting and a little nerve-wracking.

I suppose if I start to feel on the edge of breaking again, I can just find that video that's a string of different individuals' ridiculous laughs(including that guy with the fucking 'hyonk hyonk hyonk' laugh). I seem to fall prey to laughter pretty easily. Although that might just result in a confused laugh-crying state, wherein I'm still upset but I can't stop the physiological reaction to other people's laughter. Which I've experienced, and it actually feels a lot more confusing and creepier to experience than it looks to other folks. D:

There is a robin's egg on the ground which I cannot save. I turn and they fill the space on the ground, surrounding me. But they are all dead. I know they have been cold for hours, or otherwise the life was shaken from them. My heart weeps for them, vomiting blood into a sunken area of ground to create a pond. I place the eggs carefully within, letting them bob gently. It resembles a carnival game involving water and ping-pong balls. They move together, slowly, creating a vortex. A partition comes to the edge, and I am invited in. My lack of blood makes me light, and I walk on top of them as I am guided towards a swirling tunnel in the center, made of eggs. I walk on one stair that appears and reappears in front of my feet, moving me forward and down. I hit snow. It is blue. I squeeze a clump in my hand. It is warm. I eat it, and I am turned into liquid. I seep into the snow, leaping in and out of it to move. I hit a piece of ice. It is a frozen lake, made of a mirror. I look at myself. I am blood.  I cover the mirror. I see a different landscape in its reflection. I sit up, and I am somewhere else. I am made of separate parts of marble. There is no sky. The ground is made of large crystals, and I sit in a purple puddle. I see foothills. I run to them. They look soft. They caress my retinas. I jump on the top of one, and it sends me upward. I fall into the no-sky. I grow wings. I stabilize myself. I find a nearby planet with nothing on it, except a gold staff. I take the staff, and it unpins the planet, sending it spinning. I find the world. I save the world with my staff and my wings and my marble body. The world dies. I cannot save it. There are worlds around me in ruin. I killed them all. My heart vomits blood.

This is not a story.

I can see this course being quite difficult if I cannot remember the precise language expressed. Every test question answered seems to take a piece of my certainty with it. I hate the questions where he asks which things were stated, and even if the answer would fit the situation, it has to be the one he stated. I can't remember whether he said "Steve is fat because he eats too much" is c. a rude thing and not necessarily true. I could watch the whole damn lecture three times and not remember whether he said that or not unless I was looking specifically for that information. Luckily he doesn't construct his test questions that way all the time, but it is frustrating nonetheless. Any assuredness of my answers goes out the window when it comes to precise language. Does the thermometer explain high temperatures, but not cause them? Or does it predict high temperatures, but not cause them? I actually thought it would be the former, but since that's not what the guy said in the supplementary lecture, it's not the correct answer.

The only conclusion I can come to is that while this course will be very good for me, it's going to push my brain to the limits of uncomfortable thinking. I just hope I can actually enjoy it and not be too butthurt over being wrong now and then.

"What do you want out of life?"

"...my own?"

Five years ago, if you told me I would give up my interests for those of someone else, I would never have believed you.
----------------------------------------------

Today has been in an altered state. Or just me. But its more poetic to think about it the other way. One moment I'm fine, perfectly content, and the next my mind is roaring.

 It began to suddenly feel like spring on Thursday, regardless of the fact that the vernal equinox doesn't happen for another month.

I've been appreciating the time I get by myself lately, but today the silence has been deafening. I try to fill the stillness with music, with tv, games, activity, homework. If I can no longer focus on homework then I attempt to dive into another activity that takes my attention, whether its unpacking, drawing, writing or reading. I should be practicing but I don't think that's happening today. I think I'd just start crying.

I really crave peace in the outdoor world right now. But when I finally give in and go outside, I don't know where to go. I still want privacy, and all the places I could go are quite far.

I've been thinking of libretto ideas. I would take commissions but I need to demonstrate to myself first that its something I can actually do well. I find the idea of Dante's Inferno really appealing. Really, I don't think there is a setting of that which exists in operatic form yet, which is surprising given the different versions of Faust that exist, and Dante is as much of a heavweight in the literary world as Goethe is. However, that would be a huge undertaking as a first project, especially considering the fact that I still haven't read the entire thing. At the risk of going into Sam's literary territory, I would love to try a Lovecraft tale. They're short, they're weird, they're beautiful, and the opera world needs more serious horror/sci-fi material. Of course, there are still the Nabokov tales which fall under similar guidelines. Oh jeez, I bet youth subculture of opera would form if there was a series done of Poe's short stories(if his estate gives the rights, of course). Hmm, better not. Though now I wonder if art song settings exist of his poetry.

I can be incredibly silly. How to be myself? Stop trying to fit into the expectations of others or my assumed expectations of others, I guess. The harder part is recognizing when I'm doing it. It happens almost subconsciously, and it's often not until long after I'm involved that I start asking myself why I'm doing something.

I'm a little peeved still that he seems to think I stole the idea of chemistry from him. I understand his stance, but I wish he would give me a little more credit now. I'm trying to step away from that old me. The "hard sciences" do not belong solely to him and it was not the first time I had ever considered studying a science. I wanted to become a nuclear scientist for the Navy when I heard how high my ASVAB scores were in high school. But I didn't have the grades they wanted. There were a lot of other things that I was "into", but I had no idea how those actually related to a career. Someone describing themselves as wanting to grow up to be a "scientist", "businessman", or "artist" sounded incredibly vague. I didn't actually know what I would do after high school, after I figured I wasn't that good at the visual arts even though I enjoyed them, that I couldn't be a scientist for the Navy (sounds ridiculous but for all I knew that was the only place I could study nuclear physics), that my chances of becoming a famed actress or writer were close to nil, and that I had fucked up on a lot of other things and even though that "7 intelligences" retarded test we all took pointed me out as being good at kinesiology, I didn't want to be a fucking gym teacher.

I did know that at that time the most joy I was getting out of school was in choir and percussion ensemble. Music seemed to come easily enough for me, so I embraced it as much as I could. I'm starting to think I gave it the death squeeze by mistake. :/ Even at Shasta, I didn't know for at least the first semester what was expected of me as a music major, and I didn't have any of the classes I was supposed to have. I remember enjoying the hell out of my chem lab at Shasta, but I didn't realize at the time what was meant by "for the liberal arts" as a course descriptor, and was pretty discouraged by the fact that that class and chem2a were not really equivalent. The longer I spent without being enrolled in a lab or something, the more terrifying the prospect became of trying to do it over. Did I give up on what could have been something great? No use wondering about it right now. And even though I'm using my past to rationalize future decisions, I'm not going to drag up every little polished rock. It's about using the past to help identify what I'm still interested in now, not just what I used to be interested in. I remember when I wanted to be a veterinarian. Today that would be a hell no.

Perhaps it is a little early to stop the spinning wheel and declare a new major. But I'm trying to find something that both stimulates and challenges me. I may think of something similar, or a specialization within the field. Or it could be entirely different. I'm past that freshman fear, I suppose. Knowing that I'll already be done with a degree, that terror of not knowing whether I'll be good enough to understand something or pass a class doesn't even apply. I DO have a life-long fear of finding out I've been utterly unintelligent my entire life. But that's different. Even then, all humans have their idiotic moment in the sun. Perhaps I should be giving a little more credit to stupidity. Anyway, I just don't feel like I have anything to lose at this point. I may as well see what sort of tough stuff I'm made of, quite literally. 

A note to the past

It's sort of amazing to think you're 29, if you're still actually around. I have no idea, but I like to think you've found happiness somewhere in your life. Maybe you've even made it back to Huntington Beach. I remember your real name, and I don't know what you go by nowadays, but you'll always be Dirk to me. All searches come up empty-handed. I don't feel the need to contact you directly, I just wish I knew that you were doing well. I'm aware that this message may just hit the ether and not be heard.

Happy Birthday Dirk, wherever you are.

I'm getting tired of finding something new to cry over multiple times a day. Or not new, just a constantly renewing source of fear/frustration. Even in other emotionally traumatic events, I don't remember ever crying this much, this regularly. It's exhausting and is seemingly unproductive. I feel fractured, and as though I'm never entirely aware of what's going on around me because I'm too concerned trying to figure out what I should be feeling or doing. It seems that none of my reactions to anything lately have been appropriate. In the end all I can do is tell myself to shut up and try to calm down(which doesn't typically work for long), or else find a place out of view to break down in until I can get a hug or something. Whenever Sam asks me what's wrong, I find it difficult to answer, either because it was spurred on by a variety of legitimate concerns, or specific concerns that I had a highly inappropriate response to and I really don't want to admit it, or even none at all which just makes me feel crazy.

Today is an off day. I don't feel horrible, but I definitely feel lonely. He's here, but not here for me. I have to get used to that. And yet how dare I say that? He still does so much for me, and if he doesn't proclaim his love for me as he does it, I think it doesn't matter? Bullshit! He could get a place anywhere, but he wanted to help me. He wants to be around someone he can trust. And it's not like he moved in and ignored me. He cares. And yet I'm still upset that I can't get a proclamation that my brain and vagina are valued above all other brains and vaginas.

And now I'm more upset at myself than I wanted to be. Why do I treat myself like such shit?

How can I possibly think that someone else can love me unless I stop the self-loathing?

...or do I really deserve the care and concern of anyone?

And yet even when I shower(ed) affection on him, it was never about me being worthless before him.  I just really want him to succeed, in all things. Everyone should have some sort of support network. In terms of money, he has his family of course, but in terms of presence there aren't a lot of everyday faces. I'm not all-sacrificing. Though I have always been the sort of person to try and go the extra mile for those I really care about.

God, I really need a fucking shower.

This is my first module test for philosophy of Science. I've read, re-read the chapters, watched, re-watched  lectures, written the journal answers, and have done and yes, re-done the practice quizzes. Is it bad for me to be frightened of the final test?

So much information. So much precise information.

I can't rely on rote facts or common sense; this is conceptual learning completely apart from what or how I've learned about anything else in school. The practice quizzes were not too difficult, but a few of the wrong answers definitely left me asking what I possibly did incorrectly. There is no room for vagueness. If the one of the answers does not reflect exactly what is said in the text, then it most likely is not the real answer even if it still sounds acceptable.

Update: I can't say I did amazingly, but I did pass. Most of my incorrect answers came from a podcast about thought experiments. I should have listened to that one more time, because I couldn't really remember anything that Baggini brought up that became a test question besides the experiments themselves, which were not any of the test questions(and yet I remembered his name :/ ).

After that though, I have a much better idea of the teacher's expectations of what are the important points to remember and think about. And I'm just a little proud of not having done it at the last minute.

It seems as though I have a constant stream of homework, and I'm kind of amazed I'm keeping up with it(at least it seems), even though my anterior cingulate cortex is on fire. Perhaps I ought to stop falling asleep next to the fireplace. :P

It's interesting to note how I can function much better even when having a bad day. It actually drives me harder to do well, sometimes, because I don't want my emotional state to absolutely control my every-day functionality. My teacher has remarked that she finds my resilience remarkable(heh). Perhaps I do have some tools which I take for granted, or simply don't notice since I cannot look outside myself.

If you tell yourself you're stupid or hear it often growing up and you are not sure whether or not to believe it, or even worse, that you absolutely believe it even while trying to gain an education, does it take a measurable toll on your cognitive abilities even if you were not stupid to begin with?

I know that if I continue to dwell on this, it will only hurt me in the end. And the longer it goes on, the more we both will suffer. I need to get a fucking grip. GET A FUCKING GRIP ON YOURSELF.

Today was most definitely supposed to be "I have no class so let's be super productive and clean and practice and catch up on online lectures today!"

Instead it became "Let's be sleepy and disoriented and weak feeling and have what should be considered drug-induced dreams and be unsure that reality is really the thing you're waking up to today!"

Seriously, dreams of hiding in the woods to plot to kill a psychotic new girlfriend of a completely fictitious ex-boyfriend, trying to stop another ex from stealing bacteria and viruses to unleash on all our old high school teachers, and another about the Metropolitan Opera's use of orphaned babies as stage props, yet they openly refuse to act as an adoption service or intermediary. There was also something about a rollercoaster going through a museum and a trailer. And seriously, I would wake up in my room and think that it was not where I was supposed to be in real life, that I was still supposed to be somewhere in my dreams.

It was entertaining, but I am wondering why the hell I've been so tired and just all around out of it for the past two or three days(they seem to have blended together).

Random aside thought: Sometimes it seems like there's a slightly different way I write on here than I do on paper. I may have written this somewhere before but have been too ashamed to hit "publish". But yes, I write differently on here than I do in my written journal, and even more differently from either than when I write on loose-leaf paper. And I think it has to do with a little more than just the editing process. Most of the stuff I do on here is still first take save for spelling errors. I think there's a difference in the organization of thought when I'm not conscious of the fact that I'm writing out letters and on here I can focus more on what I want to say next. It feels more compartmentalized whereas on paper I'm figuring out how to string various thoughts into something comprehensive.

There are benefits to writing on paper though. There's more of a flow. Stream of consciousness writing is fun, and it's much more effective with pen and paper.

Esther entered either side of the ether of ethics whether they withered or weathered it out.

The baron of Barbary babied his barnacles with barium and buried them by bare barbarians.

He favored the fervor of the faraway father who went further with his favorite farthing.

This is what happens when I try to sleep before my brain is tired enough. Anxiety and assonance jumbled with alliteration.

Note: this post contains a moniker to so I can speak in regard to someone I don't know terribly well without upsetting them(not that it's likely they'd see this).

I had a dream(surprise) regarding me and a girl I've met before. Let's call her Banana Split. I had a dream that she was on her way somewhere, and she had to stop at my place for the night. It was just me there, but I also didn't have a couch, so I just let her sleep on some blankets on the floor. She thanked me and went to sleep.

Banana Split ended up not waking up until late the next afternoon. I asked her when she had to be wherever she needed to be; I was a little concerned she had overslept. She said "no time in particular", and then invited me to come with her. I asked her where, but Split just told me it would take no time, and that we'd be safe. That was enough for me.

We drove, and since it was a dream and driving is usually an unmemorable event unless you add something to it, it was indeed no time until we were there. It was a park, a state forest park of sorts, and it was made mostly of gnarly short oak trees. The black branches wound themselves around and back toward their trunks, creating tunnels and staircases up and down. Banana Split led me into a meadow of sorts with a picnic table and some of her acquaintances, along with some of Sam's friends/acquaintances. It was an adventuring party of some sort. We climbed in, around, over and under trees, drank, had a bonfire in the meadow, drank some more, and climbed to the top and spoke with each other for hours.

I understand that dreams can mean absolutely nothing, but they can also send us valuable messages. That dream wasn't anything spectacular: in fact, it was a rather pleasant dream. But the way I felt when I woke up was another story. It left me very lonely. Obviously I don't take it quite so literally. Though I think Banana Split would make quite a good friend, I would say the probability of that happening in this reality is close to nil. But I think part of the issue is that I have no close female friends. I mostly don't enjoy being around women. I often can't hold a serious conversation around them, or they can't talk about something that doesn't revolve around romance or children, or anything remotely in the "weird" category is too much to handle, or even worse, they try to use it as some kind of label. "Oh, I've played D&D and I read Edgar Allen Poe. Aren't I just so WEIRD/GEEKY/NERDY?" I. Don't. Care. I don't care. It's cool I guess, when it's brought up casually in discussion or something, but those who try too hard often don't succeed.

That being said, there are plenty of times I haven't been able to relate to someone, or I just feel like I'm supposed to say something. It usually ends in me saying something retarded and everyone thinking a little less of me. I was pretty ostracized growing up so you'd think I'd enjoy being alone a little more. I still enjoy being alone actually, when it suits me. But I still don't enjoy being lonely.

Thinking back to the dream, why her? What does Split represent? I think in this case, just many of the qualities I want in a friend which are lacking in many of my other "friends". Sam has a lot of the same qualities, but I think knowing me in the duration that he has gives him a certain bias that he may not be able to overcome, as objective as he claims to be. I often wonder how much she actually knows about me. It also leaves me asking the question: Of which person am I actually jealous?

Sometimes it feels as though I don't actually "keep" friends. I just sort of blow in and out of their lives. A great portion of them I have no special love for. That's fine, fair-weather friends are not a crime. But it's as though I'm lacking any sort of deep connection with any one person. I'm more solitary than I realized, and I'm not sure if that harms or helps my current situation. Even if I were  just reading too much into a dream, the rest of the issue remains.

I'm incredibly sore. Not a terrible feeling though, considering what I'm accomplishing. Plus, I'm getting some badly needed exercise. It's just shocking how much one's state of mind can be altered by the change of view out the window, or by the fact one knows they have enough space to store their things.

I still don't know quite what I'm going through. But for once, I feel somewhat hopeful.

Why is it, that I manage to hate the same illumination responsible for the dingy night sky, when I so depend upon it whenever I fancy a late walk?

Strings
attach themselves to anything and everything
knocking limbs without intending or intention
Entanglement, vicious or gentle
is mainly determined by external force
Is a knot an omen, or simply a tangle
is there ever a direct connection for these strings
or merely perceived
One object
will never be close enough
to another
to actually touch it
without binding
molecularly
and therefore altering the other
permanently
Possibly
unable to separate
without
damaging each other
Winding
in and through
around the opposite's proximity
Strings
have no foundation
if you tie one
in on itself
it becomes
an endless
representation
in and of itself
the same of the ones
bound together
yet they become larger
encompass more space
can hold more within them
than can one tied in on itself
and yet
some are longer themselves
than two or more together
and have difficulty
finding an equal
or being more than the whole
are enough for themselves

I can't sleep. Typically when I stay up late, its because I want to stay up late, but I actually kind of want to sleep and my eyes feel glued open. I think I'm just excited about moving, especially after having already stayed here for a night(didn't sleep well last night either). So I'm writing and listening to Red Hot Chili Peppers and Radiohead. Easier to listen to while someone is sleeping behind me than metal.Maybe I should take advantage of the relaxed semi-creative state the whiskey put me into. I've been fairly stable the past couple of days. Minor outbursts really, with no one around to witness them, thankfully. It still happens more when I try to sing. Hopefully I can get that tapered down when I start voice lessons again. I know it's just a relocation, but it does feel like a real change in perception. Hopefully a new chapter in my life.

Yesterday and today have been strange. I guess I'm in moving mode. I'm happy to be getting into another place, something with more room and a nicer setup. But my emotional state has been...off? I don't know. I'm haven't been sad per se, even though I almost broke down earlier. I feel almost disassociated from the people around me. Like I've switched off for the time being. It probably is because of moving, and the semester about to begin again. I need to conserve my energy. Maybe this is a good thing. Or at least for now. It doesn't feel bad, but it doesn't feel particularly good, either. Usually I hold some demeanor in a specific mood. It isn't calm, or serene, or content or happy. But it isn't anguish or sadness or irritation or anything like that either. It's like analog static. It's there, it makes a noise, but it doesn't motivate me to do anything. Maybe I'm just stabilizing. One can only hope.

It seems I think differently when I write on here than in my regular journal. And I write differently in my journal than I do on loose-leaf paper. It's a slightly different me who is writing. Is it because there is a potential audience? Or does it have more to do with the medium? Handwritten versus not, the ability to edit instantly versus using a pen and trying to follow a track that morphs as you write. Could be a melange of things.

I'm a little frightened. I suppose it's still acceptable for me to be in a state of emotional upset from time to time, but I've been rather on edge lately. Thankfully the past couple of days have been fairly mild, but I'm scared of another attack. I don't have them often, thankfully, but I do know that the more often panic attacks come about, the easier is it to experience another. The last time I was in such a state was probably during the time I was taking MIDI, and I was so sure I was going to fail. My fears escalated to the point where I had two attacks and had to leave for the restroom during the class, and then I had two more later that afternoon. I've had others too, though I was too young to recognize what they were at the time. I thought I was done going into perturbing emotional states when I had  left Redding.

Panic attacks are terrifying whether or not you've experienced them before. It's similar to a tsunami. There's an upwelling of emotion just as if you were normally upset. Then it partly subsides as if you were calming down. I'm not sure which kinds of thoughts trigger mine, but that's typically the point where things turn. There's a sense of anticipation, but less like the kind where you're expecting a present and more like the sensation of waiting to hit the water after veering off a bridge. After that is a total loss of emotional control. I would say it's relieving, except you're too terrified that you won't regain control again. You're wallowing in your own despair and confusion, unleashed upon the material world.

I'm not attempting to romanticize this. It's a real concern, one that I hope will not visit me too often. I've experienced enough emptiness in my life to never want to feel it again. I was miserable as a teenager, self-loathing to the point of being slightly disturbed. Some of that followed me into college at Shasta. Having reflected upon it recently, I would not hesitate to say I had some sort of imbalance. Thankfully I have not yet regressed to that level, nor do I want to. But I can't say I haven't been suffering some sort of depressive symptoms for several years. I would never allow myself to be diagnosed with depression unless it was truly chemical depression. Is it possible that I've been suffering from it for so long that I mistook it as a character trait? Still, when out of curiosity you take the common diagnosis evaluation for depression and where severe depression is a 54 and above, and you score a 63, perhaps it warrants at least speaking to a doctor. I always wonder about those evaluations, what the probability is of tailoring your results. I don't know. But I have a decision to make.

I'm a little sad because I'm pretty sure this is from the new Star Trek movie. However- it still struck me with its message. This is probably my biggest fear, the most pressing concern about my life. That I will constantly undercut myself and in return be unable to fulfill my desires in life until I can no longer function. And I know I'm capable of doing just that; it happens all the time. There is no worse self-fulfilling prophecy than that of constant failure. It is so mentally crippling that I think it necessary to constantly seek out validation from others. Especially in regard to singing, where I cannot honestly tell how good or bad I am, and have to use teachers and colleagues as my eyes. When I am by myself, I am wading through pitch in the darkness. It's impossible to tell whether I am making any progress or where I am. It makes me not want to sing at all. I need something more quantifiable.

For some reason I find it somehow "lesser" to admit that I personally identify with the lyrics of a song. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that no two people experience things the same way, so to apply someone else's words to whatever situation it is describing feels like a falsification. I often relate to some parts of a song, but not others. Though is not the purpose of lyrics to express the human emotional spectrum, and to gain a sense of empathy? Why do I attempt to deny it?

There are a few pieces I have found a great deal of likeness to in thought lately. They may be situational, or they may be universal. I won't spoil which are which.

The Dead Skin
by Sonata Arctica

It's me I hate, not you at all
I am my own medicine,
Turned into a poison.

I think I gave you a lot,
And not enough... I know
Tortured myself, same as you,
Without losing my sanity.
Where's my applause?

I see no reason to live in Hell.
How can life make me feel so incomplete?

I had a weakness and my walls came down
My tears won't reach the ground.
Burn my new wound.

I know I cannot feel regret for anything
If I was numb, I'd end this once and for all
I feel the burn, still...

I cannot face this day, my guards are down
I cannot love myself... weak, sad clown.

I see myself, in fading colors,
I see no hope there, where I always used to...

I fear your words, the things they mirror.
Maybe that is all I am, just a reflection... please help me...

I see no reason to live in Hell,
When you smile, you make me feel incomplete.

But it's all ending, the clock's rewinding,
We don't mean anything to me.
You think I killed this silence for us to make things right.
The words are loaded, once connected,
One torso, one head,
One solid reason, the pain!
If love's the neck, kept us together, and apart...
Now it's broken!

There is no cast, no salvation,
When it is broken, it will stay that way,
Believe me when I say this
I would not if I did not care!

Tears don't mean anything, if we don't know when we're sorry.
No one will win today we can't play this game... this way.

We cannot soar and still stay on the ground,
Don't wanna see me, hear me, hate me...

Hate!

Jealousy's a phantom,
Something that was never, ever meant to find me,
But now its pale green eyes have destroyed everything.

You know how it must hurt, and I know,
There is nothing you've done to deserve this.

Apology's a policy,
Sometimes it really has to be, it's kept me afloat thus far...

This sure nuf's one nice
loose noose, perfect times...
Are we happy in this hell?
Is there someone who can measure,
Whose pain is bigger?

It all has ended, the clock's rewinded.
We don't mean anything to me.
You think I killed this silence for you to end the night.
The words are loaded, unprotected,
One torso, no head,
One valid reason, the life's suspended
If love's the neck that kept us together, and apart...
Now it's broken...

There's no cast, no real solution,
When it is broken, it will stay that way.
Believe me when I say this
I would not if I did not care.

Who needs who, when and what the hell for?
Who wants to suffer and be hardcore?
And who's strong enough to peel off the dead skin?

I cannot face this day, my guards are down...

 

Faithless 

by Rush

I've got my own moral compass to steer by
A guiding star beats a spirit in the sky
And all the preaching voices -
Empty vessels of dreams so loud
As they move among the crowd
Fools and thieves are well disguised
In the temple and market place

Like a stone in the river
Against the floods of spring
I will quietly resist

Like the willows in the wind
Or the cliffs along the ocean
I will quietly resist

I don't have faith in faith
I don't believe in belief
You can call me faithless
You can call me faithless
But I still cling to hope
And I believe in love
And that's faith enough for me
And that's faith enough for me

I've got my own spirit level for balance
To tell if my choice is leading up or down
And all the shouting voices
Try to throw me off my course
Some by sermon, some by force
Fools and thieves are dangerous
In the temple and market place

Like a forest bows to winter
Beneath the deep white silence
I will quietly resist

I don't have faith in faith
I don't believe in belief
You can call me faithless
You can call me faithless
But I still cling to hope
And I believe in love
And that's faith enough for me
And that's faith enough for me

Like a flower in the desert
That only blooms at night
I will quietly resist

I don't have faith in faith
I don't believe in belief
You can call me faithless
But I still cling to hope
And I believe in love
And that's faith enough for me
And that's faith enough for me

And that's faith enough for me

 

 

This last one is from an art song by Alma Mahler, though 

the lyrics are by an 18th century poet who went by the pen name Novalis. 

And I swear I will sing this one day.

Few know
The secret of love,
Feel  unquenchable
Eternal thirst.
[Holy] communion's 
Innermost sense
Remains a secret to us mere mortals;
But who ever 
sucked in the breath of life
From hot, beloved lips,
Whom holy scorching waves
Tremblingly melted the heart,
Who with suddenly seeing eyes,
Divined heaven's 
immeasurable depth,
Will eat from His body
Will drink from His blood
Forever.

Who has fathomed the essential meaning 
of  our earthly flesh?
Who can tell,
that he understands the blood?
Once all is flesh,
One flesh,
In heavenly blood
Floats the blessed couple.

O! That the ocean
would blush
And in fragrant skin
Would upwell the rock!
Never would end the sweet delecting,
Never be saturated the love;
Not close enough, not intimate enough
Can she have the beloved.
By ever more tender lips
The relished will grow 
more and more to the heart.

Hotter lust 
Trembles through the soul,
More thirsty and hungry
Becomes the heart:
And so persists love's indulgence/pleasure
From eternity to eternity.
If only once would the sober-minded 
Have a taste,
They would gladly leave everything behind,
And sit and dine with us
From the table of longing
Which never empties.
They would recognize love's
Immeasurable fullness,
And praise the nourishment
Of flesh and blood.

Somewhere along the line, I stopped trying to consider my dreams as achievable in reality.  It became more of an alternate reality, wherein I made a hypothetical situation that whatever I wanted to happen did happen. But when I let the stress of my temporary situation take over somewhere down the line, I stopped planning for the future. And not necessarily my career, but everything I wanted for my life. I began to take "one day at a time" too literally. What is one to do when she wants to be the Most Interesting Woman in the World, but has neither the funds nor the education in which to do it? I would like to say I'm tenacious, but that reeks of bravado at this point. I want to have impact. I want my life to have meaning. But in which ways? I find myself floundering. I have already determined which ways I can have a niche in music. I've already somewhere abandoned the idea of becoming a professional opera singer( or "star", whatever). But I would love to find singing work in the metal scene or the video game scene. I've begun painting again, though I'm not sure that will lead anywhere. I think it would require more courses for me to become any good, and even so it may be more for my own peace of mind over anything.

I know I'm following a bad business model by comparing myself with someone else, but this concern partly arose after hearing about someone else's "bucket list". I realized none of my desires had been organized into any sort of achievable goal. They just sort of drift along, half-conceived, not even written down so that I might turn any of them into a reality. I think I will make a dream list. A list of everything, anything I might want to do in life, and then narrow it down to things which are possible in my life. Now let's see...

Dream List
-Write a major work of fiction
-Write a libretto for an opera
-Receive a PhD(NOT in music)
-keep a garden
-Visit these countries: Japan, China(mostly the forested areas), India, Finland, Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Germany, France, Bulgaria, Greece, Scotland, Ireland, Iceland, New Zealand, Canada, Argentina, Chile, Peru, Croatia, and others yet to be determined.
-Buy a cottage by the ocean, likely in Northern California or Oregon or somewhere just as cool.
-Sing a title role for a national/international opera company
-Visit/climb some portion of the Himalayas
-Hike the entirety of the Pacific Crest trail
-Hike the entirety of Lassen Volcanic Park
-Visit the Piltvice Lakes of Croatia
-Read The Divine Comedy, The Inferno, and the Purgatorio in Italian and English
-Read Faust in German and English
-Read The Canterbury Tales
-Be responsible for a scientific discovery
-Master at least ONE language instead of stumbling around in six different ones
-Find Bigfoot if he's actually a thing that exists
-voice a cartoon
-sing for a video game soundtrack
-sing as a guest for a metal band(a good one)
-tour with a metal band
-make a trip into outer space
-live outside of the US for at least one year
-be considered someone's mentor
-take an ayahuasca journey or otherwise achieve a dimethyl-tryptamine-induced state
-Go spelunking at least twice
-Find the gumption to dive Blue Hole in Belize
-Sail across an entire ocean
-Witness a volcanic explosion
-Walk from the Pacific Ocean to the Atlantic Ocean, or vice versa
-Make a scuba trip to The Great Reef
-Make a submarine ocean expedition
-Hike the Rocky Mountains
-Hike all the mountains ever
-Live with entirely "sustainable" technology

That's all for now, though I'm certain there's more to come later....yet it is quite a mental breath of fresh air.

On another note, I still have the issue of caring too much about what others think, especially those I consider close to me. It's an incredible drain which does nothing except to cause me worry and to waste my time and energy. I feel like I'm spending my life to wait for someone to get up and begin their life before I can do whatever I'm going to do. I should be pushing myself, no one else. If I'm bored, I shouldn't expect others to entertain me. I should be doing something for me.

I'm also at an awkward point where I'm finishing a degree in something which I feel no longer applies to me as much as it used to. If I can buckle down though, I'll at least have a Bachelors, even if I have to go back for another one. A degree is a degree, and may at least help me get office work or an expected wage if I'm hired within that field.

My life is itchy at the moment. Uncomfortable at best; I'm hurrying up to wait. I don't know what to prioritize. I need a car before I can move my life anywhere in my own direction, but I think that goal is a bit closer to reality. I'm still in awful dental health; do I try to time getting my damaged teeth removed so that I know I'll have money for new ones? That will take a long time. Or do I get them removed ASAP for my health's sake, and hope I can pony up money for new teeth before the bone structure in my mouth moves too much? I'm in awful debt otherwise. I wish I didn't need to do so much this year as well, or I'd be able to better prepare for when I need to be responsible for all of my income.

I'm still in dire emotional straits. I don't even like thinking about that one. It would certainly be easier if I weren't possessive or jealous of other people's traits or more open to sharing myself regardless of criticism or secure in myself(which may be the root of all of it).

Someday I'd like this blog to be about something more interesting than the ways I feel about stuff. You know...things people take interest in. Like the things on my list.

Fustercluck

I have been wanting to write for weeks. I simply haven't made myself sit and pen-vomit. No matter how good or bad the writing, or my emotional state at the time, I'm finding it is a necessary outlet for creativity as well as for dealing with stress. Interestingly enough,  sometimes the attitude I have when I initially want to write about something changes, or my desire to write about that topic fades altogether. It is as much about capturing the moment as it is the analysis of my actions. I can tell I'm more motivated to write creatively, where as soon as I have an idea I get to the closest writing medium as soon as possible. Writing about myself can be much more difficult. Yet I know if I don't, I become sort of internally bound to my emotions. And the longer I wait, the worse it is.

I've begun having very vivid dreams again. For a while all the dreams I had were muddy, incoherent, and I couldn't remember a lick of what happened. It's kind of a relief, even if they've been rather disturbing. I had a very quirky dream involving Romantic composers Berlioz, Wagner, and Liszt, though it's rather lengthy and I'll recount it at a later date. Then another one I had was far more abstract, and I've already lost some details of the storyline-ish. Whta I do remember is witnessing nuclear explosions, going back to my hometown neighborhood, and seeing no one around, but the houses had been decimated. There were no people around, or at least, no sign of dead, but there were dozens of kittens, all so small and malnutritioned that they were impossibly, skeletally skinny, yet they could not die. There was one that look even worse than the rest; its body was covered in radiation burns. I remember having a bit of cheese and splitting it amongst a few of them, but I was then told by someone that there was nothing more I could do, so I had to leave. There was also something about a tornado. There was a lot more to this dream, but now it has already been a few weeks and I've lost a lot of it.

I had a little realization today. I want a part of my poetry to become the text of an art song. I'm not sure if it would be something I've already written, or if I should really try to develop an idea with that intent in mind. I'm very fond of my poetry for what it represents to me, but I can't speak for its artistic worth. I would like for some of it to be set to music though, and though I've been tempted to try my own hand at it, I reallly have no confidence in my composition abilities. I have none. :P At the most I can make something interesting sounding, but I'm very bad at trying to form music around a certain idea.

I was going to spend this post talking about how crappy my day was, or the vaied feelings about my progress as a performer, but I think that would have put me further into a hole at this point-I'm still at the lowest low in my estrogen cycle, so beating up on myself wouldn't really help me get anything done or make myself feel motivated.

Trudging

It seems like all of my schoolwork got rather difficult rather quickly. I think I've just been lacking focus. I'm glad Sam helped me snap out of my facebook funk. This damn tablet has been devouring my eyeballs as of late. I'm not sure how it started, but next I knew I was just leaving it open 24/7 to chat and repeatedly check on the same old shit. Every other minute. I'm going on a cleanse. Yeah, it's nice to keep in touch, but I have no business spending more time on there than with anyone in my real life. I feel shame for ever letting it get that far.

On a side note, I'm finding a love for folk music. I found an old book my Grammy gave me of folk songs around the world. Some of them are obviously arranged a little differently than I'm used to hearing, but it's fun to see which ones I do or do not already know, and their origins and complete lyrics(both in English and their native language/dialect).

How I wish

I want for you to surprise me, hold my wrists and shove me against a surface as to expel my breath and make it impossible to use my weight to propel myself away from you. I need you to bind me, make me still, hold my throat under my chin in one of your hands. I want that one delicious moment, for you show me just how much you want me. Touch me lightly,   flog me, anything to make me beg for mercy, for release.

Tired

Moby Dick was fantastic. I can't express anything more than that right now. But it was amazing. I'm glad this week is over though; working five days in a week on top of a full-time school schedule is too much. I'll have to make sure I take care of myself during FENAM. I like my job though; it's way more fun and way more accommodating than a retail or fast food job, and pays a little better than say, a church choir job. I feel like it may get ibto the way of other auditions and such at times, but that's on a case-by-case basis. I feel lik I've met more of the rest of the music department in the last week of working than I have in the last year.

I don't have timed for analysis...

But I had two rather disturbing dreams from last night and the night before. The first was that Liz Bishop was trying to help cover up something her mother had done, although she wasn't aware that the something she was covering up was the murder of her father. And her mother ws trying to kill me. The next night was about running from cannibals who wanted to eat mealive because I was wounded. Kind of like Walking Dead, but instead of zombies there were just very few people around, many of the survivors being fuckin' crazy.

Journey

To Sam,
I know you're the only one who reads this blog,  so I may as well address it directly to you. Even three years into this relationship, you continue to fascinate me both as a compassionate mate and as a brilliant mind. Yes, brilliant. When I see your work, either as a composer or as a thinker, my only desire is that you be heard. You deserve to be heard. Wherever you go in life, I want your ambitions and your skills to take you to amazing places and make an impact. You told me love is bullshit. Perhaps what some refer to as love, sacrificing for one another and trying to lead an emotional life based on "instinct". But I do care about you, ultimately, and want you to thrive. That's all I need love to be. I want to be a witness to your life for as long as I can, which is a selfish desire, and I'm allowed that. :) You're allowing me to be there. I hope I can have at least a fraction of that kind of impact on you. Otherwise it's hardly worth having me around. I love you.
-Tiffany

Kink in the Hose :P

I realized the other day, somewhat sadly, that I don't do anythig kinky anymore. I haven't  tried. But over the past year, I've been finding myself wanting it again, more and more. Why haven't I tried anything? I absolutely trust Sam. I know he likes pleasing me. But last time I remember bringing it up at all, he didn't seem terribly comfortable with it. I think we even talked about cost of "supplies" being an issue. I could try talking to him about it again though, it's been a long time already since it wass brought up. I'm just a bit afraid of him thinking I'm totally weird, or being admonished. For a while I thought it was just the sort of thing older people did to try and spice up a marriage, or to plunge into the depths of after becoming utterly desensitized. I made a few advances into that world a few years ago, but with much trepidation, and I was still trying to get over issues of sexual self-shame. But now, lately whenever I've thought about it, it's so thrilling, titillating and tantalizing. I feel like sometimes I'm only enjoying sex about half as much as I could be. In fact, things like bondage and discipline, submission, domination, and other fetishes are far more normal than I had previously thought. It's time to be less shameful, and more creative. If there comes a point where I really want something and he doesn't, then there are things I can do for myself. But it's definitely more fun with a prtner. <3 p="p">

Fun & Games

Despite the fact that this is where I usually dump my doubts and negative reflections, I do find time to talk about more frivolous things. A while ago I played an XBox arcade game called Limbo, and it was short, but enjoyable at the cost of minor frustrations. I also came across a trailer for a PC game from Steam called Dear Esther. It appealed to me in the sense that it didn't play like a typical "game", and acted more as a simulation of the senses. Anyway, I've been on the lookout for more games that appeal to me. I seem to enjoy games with a puzzle element and high artistic value, but still allow me to spend as much time as I need. I'm developing better skills and reflexes for combat games as well, but they aren't as high on my list. Fantasy themes are a plus, but I like more bizarre modes of play as well. I've listed a few games that have piqued my interests below, though not all of them are for PC. A couple of nights ago I had a dream that I was playing a video game that incorporated claymation, and I got really excited and hoped it would happen someday. When I saw the trailer for The Dream Machine, I forgot that I had seen the trailer for it only about a month or two previously. But yes, it's a game that was created via claymation. I might actually buy that one before I buy Dear Esther.

I'm not giving up on console games, but my PC gaming experience still feels limited, and I'm not enjoying Zork as much as I want to. :/ Besides, if I ever find myself without a console, I'd be more likely to buy another laptop before I would buy a gaming console. I want to see what is offered as entertainment, because I know there are other games besides Putt-Putt Saves the Zoo. :P Though looking at how quickly the list is building, I can suddenly see how one can spend hundreds on video games. And most of these are only about 10 bucks a piece. Maybe I'll settle for three or so.

Myst (any of them)
The Witness
Dear Esther
Stacking
Vessel
The Dream Machine(!!)
Journey
Amnesia: The Dark Descent (part of me says I should play a Silent Hill game before attempting any other survival horror)
Braid (though it seems a little complicated for me to master)
The Path
The Binding of Isaac(just looks like fun)

Ejumacation!

It stinks to absolutely love education and the pursuit of knowledge, but to honestly hate school. It's something I've had trouble admitting to myself. I wasn't necessarily worried about finishing the bachelors program, but I was definitely worried that my guile would not be enough to surpass the amount of work I might have to do in a masters program. And thats just the thing, I have no idea what to expect from that level. After speaking to a couple of people who have been through the ringer already, Im a little relieved that the focus does turn more to seminar discussions and independent study, and less to busy work. I really need to able to thrive here at a higher level of responsibility first. I'm improving my habits bit by bit, but I still seem to lack consistency.

Awkward Moments

So the trip to the Redwoods/Fortuna/Humboldt County went pretty well. I'm kind of glad that's the last time I go to a family reunion, at least for a long while. It was actually quite cold this time, usually it's very warm at the Women's Federation Grove, which is where it's always held. It was fun to get out, as usual, but there were key people missing, aka Grandma Kalford who passed away last year. I always found her easy to talk to, and she was very good at introducing me to people I didn't know. But I saw some people I didn't know, along with some I didn't really remember, and I spent a lot of time feeling very awkward and walking down to the river to pass the time. At least I got a little exercise that way, I went up and down that trail and trudging along the beach about four times.

 My family managed to stay away from fast food completely this time, which was a pretty impressive feat considering how much it costs each time a group of five wants to eat at a restaurant. I forgot how much unhealthy other crap my family eats though. While we were driving there(we took 36 by the way, which was gorgeous but a little scary) Mike pulled out doughnut holes that were to serve as breakfast. I brought my own stuff, but it was buried in the trunk in an area where we could not pull over and I was hungry NOW. So I broke down and ate three to keep me from totally starving, while still falling short of a serving. Luckily there were a lot of salads at the reunion too, and at least thirty people, so I didn't feel bad about picking only the things I really wanted. And quinoa!! Damn that was good!

Going to the beach actually didn't do much to help my depression. If anything, it enhanced my feeling of wistfulness. For what? I actually don't know. It must just be an ocean thing. :/ But I still enjoyed the weather(more than everyone else, actually), and I've determined that if  I need an escape city, Arcata will do just fine. It's so cute and small-ish, and so friendly, but it still caters to my whims and makes me feel enriched. Plus it's rather close to nature type things. :P

I'm not sure what I should think about my relationship right now. One moment I think something could be wrong, that either it's all his fault or it's all my fault and the next I'm second-guessing everything I just said. I think I just need to settle down and not take everything so seriously. The more intense I become, the easier I break. And the more I'm likely to do something stupid. I think I'm going to not care what the future holds in store for Sam and I. I'm going to see him tomorrow, say 'I love you', and enjoy the moments we do get to spend with each other. I think I may just be having troubles with how casual we've gotten with each other, but maybe I just need to learn to live with it.

Thoughtlessness

I can't sleep, so I'm going to write. I've actually needed to for a while, but tablets are bad for writing more than a few sentences. Anyway this is better than staring at the ceiling until it starts moving in patterns, and hearing little imaginary voices every few minutes.

I had to freeze my 24 Hour Fitness account. I'm pissed too, because when I called to cancel, they convince me to freeze my account instead of outright cancelling so I wouldn't have to pay startup fees again, only to remember later that part of the reason I was going to cancel was so I'd still have a free month of gym use. I feel like an eediot. Now I have to wait a MINIMUM of 2 months before I can tell them to open the account again. *grumble*

 I've been feeling...depressed. Can't say for sure why. I can speculate, but even if you took away the various little things bugging me, I don't think it would disappear so easily. And summer depression is worse than winter depression, in my book. Maybe I do need this trip to the coast, and even though I'm with my family, it's still easy enough to mentally separate when I need to.

I had kind of hoped I would be going there with Sam first; I have to say though that I've been feeling strange around him lately. I feel it whenever he looks at me. Something in the dynamics of our relationship has changed, but I can't yet place what that something is. It has caused me to question my modus operandi recently. Have I been careless? Thoughtless? Am I just getting too fat? It's almost as if he's looking down on me. Maybe it's my own paranoia and bad self-esteem, but I can't help feeling like I've been lacking lately, and it's got me a little worried.

Something that Sam said awhile ago hurt me, in a way. It wasn't his fault it hurt though, because I'd been telling myself the same thing for a while; I just didn't realize it would hurt to hear it out loud. See, Sam and I are both on the higher education track, and knowing how competitive our field can be, we both want to get into schools that can offer us the most to learn, and the greatest opportunities. It wasn't terribly difficult for us to end up at Sac State together, and it would have been similar at several institutions for a Bachelors. However, getting into a Masters program is a little more intense, a little more difficult, and a lot more unpredictable. And he stated what I'd been thinking for a while: we could not stay together over great distances. It's not a fun thing to try. I feel a little melodramatic right now, but in some ways it feels like a death sentence. There's no guarantee that we won't end up at the same institution, or at least in the same area. But that little seed of doubt is planted in my mind. How long do I have? Which is stupid, of course. What if he decided to break up with me tomorrow? I should just be grateful for the days I do experience with him.

I need a place to cry.

I figure after three years or so, it was time for an update. I've been feeling very blase today. Though I've made a small revelation today. I've been evaluating what I deem to be a "failure" of a task in my life. In some things, failure is very self-evident, such as a bad grade, or a late notice on a bill that says "failure to pay". I've finally figured out that it isn't as easy when it comes to singing. That should come as a relief to me, but in a way that makes it more frustrating. I see every day as a learning experience, and singing, especially in a performance, is rife with opportunities to fail. At least, that's how I thought of it before. But I've been bringing myself down that way, and attempting to set myself up for actual failure, which means freezing up on the spot with paralyzing fear. I can't call every missed inflection or word or every out-of-tune note during a lesson a failure. I can't call forgetting breath support for a minute a real failure. Not winning a competition does not make me a failure. These things all make me a voice student. A growing musician. Mistakes at this level are not fatal. I have to remind myself of this, or else I can't carry on. I felt horrible guilt over my juries for something I couldn't really help, and played almost no role in my teachers' decisions. I'm a silly human being. :P

Serenity. I wish I had some. :/

My period has been really rough on me this time around. After my little hormone reset a few months ago, I'm starting to see changes that I didn't want to accept at first. Like the fact that now, I actually go through some intense emotional mini-episodes the day or two before my period starts. I used to just feel kind of drained/crappy before. Happy day though, my period seems to have shortened itself by about two days. Hooray!! But that also means the flow is overall more intense. :/
Yes, I did happen to write the last post while I was in the apex of one of those mini-sodes. You can tell by the unnecessary tone of panic and self-deprecation found throughout the text. I can't say I don't still feel that way, but I think I can state it with less hysteria now. It is sort of funny to read though, if it weren't so pathetic sounding.

That fine line...

I consider myself to be fairly nonchalant towards joking commentary made between friends. Granted, it has taken some exposure and practice, but I've done fairly well at keeping myself from taking too many things to heart. Though recently I've been bugged by some of the fun Sam has been poking at me, particularly any that involve my personal shortcomings as being caused from being a woman. I think the catalyst that made me bring this up was a little incident where I was looking to apply at a job, only to find out they wouldn't hire women because of the safety concerns working on night shift. I understand why, but it doesn't keep me from being a bit upset at how prevalently things like rape still occur. Honestly though, this is something that has been truly disturbing me for the past week or so, and at first I thought maybe I was being a little hormonal when I started crying after one of his remarks last night. He didn't even notice, but then again, I didn't really want him or Aaron to notice.  But about the jokes, they're ridiculous, and I should just be able to shrug my shoulders and giggle, even hurl back an insult or two. Instead, they make me furious and extremely reactionary. It's the only time I actually feel like being violent towards him. I should never, EVER feel that way!! I've just considered him as being this person always worthy of my respect and love, yet hearing him say the shit he says, even in jest, is like hearing "I don't really respect you, and I like hitting you where it hurts."
The thing is, I don't remember him having always said stuff like that to me. It seems to have gotten that way more in the last year, or maybe even the last six months. Maybe he's just gotten comfortable enough with me that he feels like he can say anything to me as he would one of his close friends. That's a major plus to me. But though I'm sure he in no way means what he jokes to me about, I can't help but feel like sometimes he's trying to press my buttons and trying to get me to lose my cool. I feel helpless when I've been hurt by one of his jests, but we're around one or several of his friends, and I don't want to cry and look like a fool, but I also don't want to berate him because I don't want to ruin the fun of whatever other company we have around. I've noticed it gets much worse when we're around certain friends. I'm that person who doesn't want conflict, and is willing to let it well up inside strictly because I don't like to make waves, and I'm not even sure if this constitutes a legitimate issue. Am I really just being too sensitive? Or are there just some things you shouldn't say to your girlfriend? Is this something I'll just get over after some time, or is it really an issue I should bring up with him? I don't want him to feel like he can't joke with me at all, but I really can't stand it sometimes. I've been crying in moments by myself like this, where I think about snapping and yelling at him for this kind of thing, but then being totally afraid that he'll just decide I was just roommate/fucking fodder and that he'll decide to leave and find someone who's less uptight than I. And now looking at this, I'm not sure if this is more about an issue with him, or about my own insecurities. I'm just going to stop this post here; I don't need to go any further down the spiral tonight.

Tossing and turning

More dream trouble. As much as I know they're only dream, they do nothing to ease my stress. For almost the past two weeks, I've been having intense dreams of loss. That seems to be the recurring theme, anyway. I lost friends, family, mentors, money, trust, security, home, and sanity. Somehow a different one each night. I hope there's nothing to be lost tonight, but each morning I've woken up tense and I don't feel like I slept, at least not well. I have a hunch that my problem lies a little deeper than having a flat pillow to lay on; I just haven't really figured it out.

As you can see, I had a little dilemma. No longer. :)

So, I got impatient and wrote four journal entries on paper.  Trying to decide whether to retype them or not....

Happy for no Reason

Well, goodness me! I sincerely thought no one ever even came across this page as it sat in it's own dark little corner of the internet, but for the first time ever I viewed the statistics on this page and was sort of, well, stunned. I mean, its still nothing to write home about, but I guess I am interesting enough to have been peeked at. Not commented on, though, but that's fine. It is a public page on the internet though, so I should have known that sooner or later someone would see it on passing and not hate it. Ciao!

Crafty

I feel genuinely excited this summer, and not for reasons you would expect. I joined the gym, and am trying desperately to keep the promise to myself to get into better shape so I can feel healthier. I'm also going to stay well-connected to my family and a few friends, and have a few little adventures out of town. I'm going to spend some quality time with Sam, and remind him how important he is to my life.I'm even going to have lots of time to practice piano skills and my junior recital pieces. But most importantly, I'm going to start crafting again. I know, it sounds like the least important thing, but honestly, I am a lost person when I don't have enough outlets. I forget my skills. I forget to be creative. Worst of all, I lose confidence over time in my ability to take charge of anything. The blog helps, certainly. Even if I don't get it out immediately, I always feel like I can get out all the word vomit I need without using up whole sheafs of paper. Gardening and cooking help, too. But I miss my visual art pursuits. My drawings and paintings. None of them are spectacular, especially by my standards, but I still enjoy most of them and can proudly say that they are creations of my own styling entirely. My "poetry" too. I don't do it to become great at it, though I have improved a bit over time, nor do I expect to make money off of it. But I feel that I truly benefit, even if it is in a more intrinsic, stress-relieving sort of way. I will print off a copy of all my poetry onhe day though, for myself and whoever might want it. I also gathered all of the scrap cloth my Grammy gave me, and I'm pretty sure the purses and bags I make with them will be adorable. :3

I heard this quote from a witch character in the musical Into the Woods. I'm not sure why, but I've been thinking about it a lot lately.
"I'm not good, I'm not nice, I'm just right."

Why is it that I'm failing MIDI, yet the only thing I can think about is how best to sneakily send the teacher horrible porn.

Was walking to the music hall today and saw a lady watching the squirrels hump on the lawn. She had a leery smile.

I've been stuck, only moving as I am tugged at by the wind. Nothing feels easy. I am failing.

Whirling, incomprehensibly, drifting, elongating into sleep.

Relief, or Something Like it

Well, I had a nice little scare. But it's done with, and now I just have to figure out why my lovely body decided to change it's mind on me. But actually, I'm going to write about something a little different this time around. You see, last night I had my first ever homo-erotic dream. Shocked? Probably not. I don't know. You probably don't care. See, I'm one of those people who while being comfortable about my sexual orientation and everyone else's around me, I was pretty sure I'd always be the straightest straight girl that ever was straight. Or whatever. I mean, it was only a dream, but the thing was, I still reacted the same way after I woke up. With pleasure. I won't reveal with whom I had this little dream about because I don't want to make anyone around me uncomfortable, but it was just a little bit of an eye-opener for me. That I really wouldn't mind, given the right person. However, I also got from the dream that I won't pursue a relationship like that outside of the beautiful committed relationship I already have. It's just as much cheating to me with a woman as it would be with another man. But yeah, there you have it.

Guitar

Damp evening air
and dogwood trees,
Turkish rhythms
and odd harmonies,
topped with a moon
the thin clouds tease.

Journey

Between large, crackling wires,
flew a Raven of noble intent,
seeking his throne on
gloriously robed trees.
Came he to rest on a red maple,
when jays came pecking at his skull.
Journeyed he onward without respite,
seeking refuge from the sprawl.
Sought the Raven some food from his subjects,
yet brought him naught but scraps,
flew he from his silver chamber,
and from the human traps,
tired was he of seeking his home,                                                                                                                    and into the sun he flapped,                                                                                                                           retired his wings suddenly,
his entire frame had gone slack.                                                                                                                  
How undignified for a Raven,                                                                                                                        
to fall at rest on his back,                                                                                                                             yet he found no home in his kingdom,                                                                                                      which was careless as he had been black.

Unspoken

To think I say I cannot express myself clearly,
for whenever I see my own writing it's as if
it was always there.

Relief(Sort of)

Well, some (sort of) good news...my uncle has no tumor. Instead, he had a stroke. Or I should say, one small stroke, and one major stroke. The good part is that he is stable, and will be able to recover at least some movement in his right side. But we won't know how much exactly for a while until he's gotten through enough physical therapy. Although, Isaac's music seems to be reflecting my mood about this whole thing, incidentally. I'm listening to his composition recital from home. In other news, I did horribly on my test in piano today, which I sort of knew was going to happen(even though I practiced much more on that piece than I normally would), and I just had a dream this afternoon that a juvenile delinquent was murdering my entire family. Not fun. I'm either under some sort of weird high level of stress, or I should stop taking naps after big meals. 

Tumor

I don't know how I'm so calm right now, maybe it's just my response to an emergency situation. I just feel like I shouldn't be since my uncle is dying. I'd like to be more optimistic, but the fact is that brain tumors are deadly. I wish they had suggested running some tests the first time he came in to the doctors with severe dizziness even though his vitals were fine, instead of sending him home with crappy vertigo medication. I'm watching the kids and the apartment while everyone sleeps since I'm young and the only night owl. I'm fine with this. I just hope that my uncle can get the help he needs, whether it be from the surgeons at hand, or somethig more supernatural. Though I will say my family will likely be calling on more spirits to help than usual. I plead, for Odin, Thor, Hecate, Isis, Cernunnos, and my dad if he's not busy, to look after my uncle. He's too young to go, and has a family that can't be left behind.

Disgusting

I feel positively shitty, as if my body woke up today, only to say "I give up on today". Pretty disappointing. And I have a headache, AGAIN. Man, am I always this bitchy? I bet Sam gets sick of me complaining. I think I just need a nap, I've been getting shitty sleep the last few days. You know, whe you lay there, and you sort of rest, but you really toss and turn all night and don't remember actually sleeping. Bleh. On a more positive note, I did get to see two dear friends last night whom I haven't seen in several months, so there's that. :3 I hope they fiind their place in Sacramento, even if only for a while.

Vanity

At times I catch a poignant moment,
When your breath touches me
with tragic tenderness.
I fear my eventual loss.
Sometimes I am a hummingbird
pecking in vain at a giant sequoia,
knowing I can never really enter.
How I wish to be part of you!
Sometimes I feel shame,
knowing you would see me
at my grossest, my dumbest,
my numbest, and my most peculiar.
But love is never as aesthetic or as sterile
as we desire.
The grime and the torture are where love lies.
Lasting love belongs to only
the strong of will, those who lack fear
of the lonely nights in which we
must face our dark reflections.

Resolve

Sometimes I'm not sure of the earth beneath me. Usually I like this trait about myself, but lately it is hard to be at ease. I find myself thinking of my own, and my loved one's mortality. I'm dreadfully curious about the possibilities of a "next life" or "after life", but I'm also horribly scared of the death that comes along with it. Most are. Even if I had a near death experience, science has been learning that the brain simulates these sorts of images/sensations of heavenly environment while going through the process of shutting down, so even then I couldn't be sure. And I've been contemplating about the "spirits" as well. There have been a crap ton of experiments done trying to conclude whether spirits exists, or if we are just experiencing some natural phenomena. Personally, I think spirits are simply natural phenomena. Are "orbs" spirits, or electro-magnetic light reactions? Are EVPs the voices of the dead, or low frequencies that create hallucinatory sounds. Although, I do have to contest the second one. If it is a sound that has been recorded from a frequency lower than our accessible hearing, is it still a hallucination if it is recordable and audible as a humanoid voice saying something very specific?

Perspective

I'm trying to keep my plans this week in perspective. To be honest, I was going to try and enter the Dinsmore Aria Competition, but I'm just not ready. It requires two arias, and I only have one acceptable one; I'm not going to attempt to use a Mozart aria as my second one though. I just don't find it acceptable, not unless I was really, really well developed. I am going to see if there is any room left on the schedule for the David Smalls master class though. Probably not, honestly, but I'll ask Robin anyway. I am for a fact going to the Townsend opera competition though. And the NATS competition. I'm going to find a way to be busy, and perhaps win some money in the process.

I did get to go see a show this weekend. Friday night was my chance to see Symphony X and Iced Earth. I was hoping to see a friend there, but it turned out he couldn't, which is fine, I just feel bad he didn't get to go at all. It was more impressive than I was betting on, but as always I hated the shit out of the mosh pits that kept starting up. That's just me though, which is okay, because I have wonderful friends who don't bat an eye at shoving people the fuck out of the way so I can stay in front. :3 Anyway, it was a great way to relieve some stress. I got out of town, it wasn't just for family commitments, and I got to hear music I like that I can appreciate both for artistic value and headbanging value. My neck is still a little bit sore. :P I feel rejuvenated for this week, which I think mentally is going to be hectic.

I keep thinking about things that I want/should/need to do, and where I can fit them in my schedule. I think the problem is prioritizing and remembering when to do things. I could make a calendar, but that would take me a long time, not to mention the problem of sticking to it. At least I did a better job this weekend than most of sticking to tasks.

After all this word-vomit, I should probably get to bed. It's rather late already.

I'mma eatem all. :P

You know, as helpful as my subconscious brain tries to be, I wish I had a better way to remember to keep in touch with family besides threatening me with dreams of them dying, and me feeling guilty for not being there. On another note, I don't think I've ever been so happy to have my period. Yes you can be grossed out and leave my page now if you want(if you were ever here at all and not some delusion of mine). But let's face it, anytime I'm not pregnant is a good day to me. Although I do wonder if my cycle isn't just fluctuating. I have been careful folks, but you just never really know.

Another fun thing happened today. Had a few evangelical crazies of the younger variety making a scene on campus today. I didn't mind their freedom of expression; they looked like students who went here, and all the houses had their stuff out in the quad and were soliciting as well. I appreciate all forms of expression, even hatred. It's honest, anyway. Except that other students were starting to gather and shout at the crazies, who were in turn shouting about hell and judgement day, and they were blocking the entire walkway of where I was going, which is 25 feet wide and I should have had clearance somewhere to walk through to my destination. The crazies couldn't have been there very long, either. I was in the student store for maybe five minutes, and when I came back, the student group probably tripled in size and was blocking everything, so I made the decision to go through the only opening, through the middle of the group and between the arguing parties. 1. I only had 20 minutes of break, so it really was the only way, 2. Even though I didn't mind them being there, I didn't like how much ruckus the preachers were making, so what better way to make a statement than to walk through and ignore everybody? I don't give a damn, and I won't feed the fire.

Pressed

My mind is flooded with thoughts at the moment, and I feel I can't speak eloquently about them all right now, but I need to jot them down in some form. Panic is my least favorite emotion, and I feel it all too often. I wasted $45 today on a mediocre show that was filled with political bullshit, which is unfortunate knowing how much effort went into the whole thing by students, but it was cheapened to the point of burlesque, even lower, farce, so that I felt disgusted by the end and embarrassed for everyone else by the end of it. I feel strange today, like I'm on the brink of something, perhaps a xenith, that I have yet to identify. It isn't really positive or negative, just a vortex of nervous energy churning at my insides. I've had strange, vivid, panicked and highly symblic dreams lately. One where I'm living in an old house from my childhood, with myboyfriend and my little brothers, and one of them fakes losing his arm in a lawn mower, and when I find out he's faking, I start slapping the crap out of him. And another where my boyfriend and I are living in a tree house, and I'm meeting up with some old friends but decide to leave early because some old exes keep trying to come on to me. Then when I get home, I see my bf sweating in his sleep because he's nervous about said thing happening, and I relieve him by waking him and being there. The last dream had to do with looking like Silent Hill in a way, and being creeped out of my mind the entire time. I will recount the entire thing later.

Another realm

I sometimes wish I had access to the world of my dreams. I see a world inside when I sleep, though it is still rare when I come upon a dream that I wish I could return to. Instead I can only remember intrinsic details, and peer at them; as impressionist paintings. I wish I could go back to that house, with the several different rooms with the one garden-themed room that I can never find, and the caves, and that beach house, among others. I haven't remembered many of my dreams lately, and I definitely haven't been writing them down. And I don't know why my dreams have diminished in clarity so much, but I hate it.

Memories are a problem too. I often encounter sights, smells, or just auras of suggestion that bring me feelings of melancholy, of desire, or desperation, like they should trigger some related memory, but they don't, or at least, not ones that I remember. And then there are the pictures in my mind, those of which I will never be sure are really memories or dreams. A couple of them seem too bizarre to be real, but too clear to be a dream, but really I was too young to remember clearly anyway.

A Gossamer Heart

This world has been shifted
to include yet another,
This one introduced
makes yet one more tether.

one lone observer
who seeks to develop
finds a gossamer heart
they desire to envelop.

Both hearts a-clamor
create their own world
where each gossamer heart
may freely unfurl.

Affected

Even if we were to be separated today,
I could not say that my life would not be
affected by your presence.

I could no longer think of winter and the sea,
or of music in its entirety
without connecting you to it.

I would still remember
how your presence calmed my senses
and made bad moments tolerable.

I would remember
not saying your name most of the time
because I felt I knew you
without having to re-identify you.

I will always remember
how you loved me in my body
always with affection
and without constant grading of performance.

And of course,
I will remember
how I felt writing about
what I remember,
and wondering about
what you'll remember.

Alteration

I like this part of it: 

I had always dreamed of someone like you in my world
yet never had I thought you would wake up in it
nor I next to you, immersed in yours.

But now I'm not sure if I should try to rewrite the rest of it, or perhaps separate it from the rest? I like the rest of it; it's just that they don't all jive together. But the first stanza I think is the best by itself. Perhaps I should make a little booklet of poetry. Which leads me to another question: should I include some old poetry? He's seen some of it, but it doesn't have to be from the things he's seen. I'll attempt another something now:

writing thinking coming alive

How odd it is
of all my poetry
that has existed
you had somehow
never appeared within.
Thinking back,
you should have been
most inspiring of all.
And yet,
I never once had thought to.
Was I only compelled
by negativity
to write as I did,
somehow not concerning you?
Or was it fear,
you being near
to my heart,
of judgement to my art?
No matter.
Or perhaps,
it is the fact
I had not felt the need to seek you
in writing,
you are there,
a hopeful constant,
in my ever-morphing life.
That I had no need to wonder,but I do.
And so,
for you,
is my pondering
over you.


Another one:

What silly sounds of affections we make,
whether miao, mew, or meer.
Why are we sometimes caught up in these sounds,
 present to each others ears?

A Valenti-No, an "I Love You" Poem. Screw Valentine's.

This is a first attempt at writing some truthful poetry to my love, which while not being mushy, will still somehow make a pillow out of his heart. :P This may or may not change between this page and the final draft, but you may not see the final draft anyway.

starchildren universe science mind truth perspective world

I had always dreamed of someone like you in my world
yet never had I thought you would wake up in it
nor I next to you, immersed in yours.

We humans tend to
cannibalize sensation,
my hands to feel as yours,
to live vicariously through vibrations,
or pulsations,
or whichever manner through which we connect
with our star-stuff.

Extractions of extractions,
cosmos, gaia, anthropos, anima, eros?
The extent, the order,
of which I may never know.

Yet, anxious I am not.

For what the universe
knows to be uncertain,
This one knows
she holds an interesting person.

I'll save this for now.

Moon

I saw the moon tonight, while driving back from picking up some dinner. I knew it was supposed to rise at about 6 tonight, but when I came over the hill to come face to face with her, I practically cried at her brushed golden radiance. Even now I see her as she watches me write; she creeps through a thin gauze of clouds, spreading her refections into spectacular displays deep azure and golden metals, a blue tiger's eye. I never know what to make of these moments emotionally. It always seems surreal, and I'm never sure if something is trying to reach me, or if I am reaching for it. Happy moongazing.

Depression

I have a feeling that I've been battling a little bout of depression lately. I have before, but I've never been terribly busy and around another person 24/7 while one came about before, and I've found out in came out in different ways this time. I almost didn't realize that I had been until I started coming out of it. I had gotten new reprtoire from my teacher to learn over the break, not only to get ahead for next semester, but also to judge how self-motivated I coukd be. Didn't work very well, I have one piece half-learned, and that has less to do with my practiced skills and more with my tonal memory. :/
Now though, I've noticed I suddenly want to take dogs on walks, am planning things fiscally for next semester, and am attempting to pull myself back towards the piano. I'm also trying to see if corrective dentistry can be afforded this semester. With having 22 units this semester, it probably isn't wise to attempt having a job, but I may try anyway. I have no money otherwise.

Knowing I

We may lay claim
to another's aim
But how could we?
Knowing I
of only land and sky
can only comprehend what I've seen.
We can guess, I guess,
and understand, digest,
but I'll not waste time
on another's schemes.
Of space,
Knowing I
am but a trace
in the universe.
Yet human race
has never stopped,
their progress and mirth.
Knowing I
could send any theme
through writing,
have found not
of which I've been scribing.

my babies

I miss my kitties, and I really hope they are okay. I only gave them food for the first few days, and I can't remember if I ever put away that chocolate or not. I feel miserable right now. I can't wait to go home.

Hogmanay! <-- I like this word

Let's see what I can come up with...

Precious diamond sun,
distant and coldest,
looking for moonbright,
to give calm and solace.
Hoping again for rapture in gold,
rejoice yet anew in sylvan light.
Keep we now the bright around us,
searching now for warmest and safest,
Doing as ancestors had won before,
Live or live not in densest forest.

Busy, busy

I've been very preoccupied with studying the last few weeks, along with trying to budget out how broke I'm going to be for the next month or so. In the meantime though, I've put up a fabulous little tree for Yule, with PURPLE lights, red ornaments, and silver icicles. Gawgeus. :P I sort of wish it was real, but at the same time I'm glad I don't have to worry about it shedding or dying while we're away.

I've been getting kind of pissy lately. It's not towards anyone in particular, I'll just get into bad moody-moods that leave me generally annoyed by everything. I'm nowhere close to my period, and it doesn't feel emotional enough to be PMS anyway(what rare cases I've experienced). Maybe it's just the finals sinking in. I do know I get really anxious when I know I need to do something, because if I don't do it right then, I fear I'll forget to do it later. It's because I'm bad at planning, I think. I'm starting to use more little things to help my organizational skills, but really, I still get scared.

I hope I get a chance to get to the coast this winter; that would be fabulous.

You Two Are My Eagles in Drag

That was a pretty fantastic movie.

Today: Crepe with bananas and Nutella, turkey and wild rice soup, french fries, and a few orange cream sticks.
That's it so far.

Yeah, I slacked again, but I am working on crap for finals(or at least trying to look like I am). I've been filling out Christmas cards for family and teachers, and a few friends. I also got a new Android tablet(I can't remember what they're called) by chance, had three choir concerts in one weekend, and I am trying to find all ten or more of the concert programs I've attended over the course of the semester for a giant packet that I have to turn in soon. I'll be making piroshki tonight for tomorrow's Russian class to imbibe, as well as practicing piano, voice, and Russian. Oops, I also really need to wash towels if I hope to have a shower tomorrow. I'll also be enduring lots of chaos for a friend's wedding this weekend; we're helping her out of kindness, but it seems to be a lot more trouble than originally anticipated. That's not necessarily her fault, but I wish one of the people we are supposed to be transporting would have told me of their plans sooner. What can you do? I'm also singing for her wedding(a last minute call of desperation), but I'm absolutely okay with that. Even if I'm not getting paid, it could still provide future employment prospects if I do well.

Slacker!!

Ack!! I caught myself slacking on this again! I will break myself and make sure that I do at least one thing habitually. And I mean the blog posts, not just the part where I write down my dietary embarrassments. :P

Today: Regular coffee, almond croissant, an Indian dish with curried peas, cheese, and rice, a samosa, some salad with balsamic vinaigrette(spinach, cucumber, bell pepper, avocado, cranberries, olives, and walnuts), more coffee, and I may have some cashew crackers with strawberry cream cheese. :3 I've been a good girl today.

Things I didn't do today: my homework, go to World Music, get my boots fixed, get my hair trimmed, get birthday cards for my stepdad and littlest brother.

Things I did do today: Register for classes, and in the process clear up a glaring clerical order that would have kept me from being able to get into the classes I needed, took in a resume and got an interview at a sandwich shop, took in recycle and am never collecting it again because it wasn't worth the $18 to store a thousand cans in my apartment for several months, did mediocre on my Russian vocab test, and paid rent(almost late).

I'm really, really happy because I found a cheap used copy of both Fantasia and Fantasia 2000 in pristine condition, and I'm watching it with the same excitement I did as a kid. :D I bought myself another couple of little gifts; A Portrait of Dorian Grey and Lolita. I started on Lolita first, and it is proving to be quite intense.

I found out I won't be able to continue with Russian next semester due to large schedule conflicts, which is a shame, but I may try to finish it later if I get the chance. For now though, I'll be beginning French, which I am okay with, considering I never finished studying it from junior high.

That's all for now; I've been considering making some bread with the unbleached flour I got. I just haven't decided whether it's going to be banana or pumpkin...or perhaps both, in time. Whichever I choose, I'll make it with molasses in place of sugar, it's a little kinder on the belly. Also, despite my depression over Russian class, I'm going to try out a recipe for piroshki for the class. Man, that sounds good. :P