today is another day

"the years tell us much that the days never knew." ~emerson

*silence

as i stand here, eyes welling up with tears, heart beating painfully faster in my chest, i am at a loss. there are no words, love, there are no words. they have not yet been uttered or heard and silence is the only response i can give. you have told me of your loss, your pain. i can say nothing to you. anything i say would be of selfish motive...it would be to make me feel as if i was comforting you, but i have heard these same words myself, and i know they bring no comfort. i have heard the cliche things people say, the comfort they try to bring. i can only appreciate the fact that they wish to comfort me, but their words serve only to drive me further away from them when i need them the most.

there are many, many things i could say. "she's in a better place" "its God's will" "you'll feel better in time" "you'll see her in heaven"...these words serve only the person who gives them. they provide a 'way out,' for when a friend tells you of something like this, you feel obligated to make them feel better. i have never been comforted by hearing these things...they cannot give what needs to be given. we know this and we know the friend knows it...and we stand there, frustrated with our not-enoughness.

i will not say these things. but here i stand. what do you want me to do? if you want me to stay and be silent and just be here with you, i will. if you wish me to leave, i will. if you wish me to call and talk, talk for the sake of talk and tell of all the mundane things that are happening...so that you may have a few moments of distraction from you pain, i will. i will. i love you and i will do anything i can.

i will.

reality bruises

well, im sitting here, at the library, taking a break from filling out job applications. reality hit home when i realized that ive been home for almost a month and have no job...ouch. well ive been looking for quite a while and have resorted to applying at two temp agencies...up side? i get at least 7.50 an hour...down side? its mostly factory work. but i figure i can muddle through it for the money. still, i would love to be working at a little coffee shop with a few good friends...but, the problem is coordinating the good friends...and finding a coffee shop thats hiring there are few up here that are in the same situation i am. one of my best friends has decided to be a bum for the summer...oh well, if my parents would buy me a laptop and pay for my school, i'd probably continue to be a bum...

ive been considering volunteering too...like habitat for humanity...or something...I NEED SOMETHING TO DO! yesterday i sewed myself a skirt...its pretty...but that just shows how freaking bored i am.

Hero

The brim of his hat nearly hides his eyes and the shoulders of his coat stick out like wings on his young frame. Try as he might, he can't keep the sleeves of his coat from slipping down to cover his hands. His belt is pulled past all of the holes and is folded under itself to keep pants that are two feet too long tight to his little waist. Socks pool around his ankles, topping shiny, black shoes that are 5 sizes too large for his young feet. The clunk of his shoes echo through the hall with each step. Carefully he walks, trying to hold the shoes to his feet while stumbling over the excess of clothing. Frustrated with the weight of the coat, blinded by the brim of the hat, he is berated for his stumbling, scolded for not filling his Father's clothes.

Ehiley

If you look carefully, you can see her...a small child, dressed in blue skirts and a white t-shirt wandering around through the woods, stumbling, falling, scraping her knees as she goes. Complaining that she cannot see, as she holds her hands tighter to her eyes, knowing that all she has to do is to open her eyes; yet she tumbles over rocks and her knees are bleeding.

"Daddy!" she cries, "Daddy, where are you?" She pleads with the darkness of her cupped palms. Searching and stumbling, and crying. Sobbing for the father she knew, looking for him again. Following these deep voices, hands pressing tighter to her eyes. Following these deep, male voices...ignoring the calls of her father.

"Daddy! Where are you?"

daddy...where did you go?
i cant see you anymore
...daddy?

don't wake me up, plan on sleeping

i was driving home tonight. i was leaving behind someone i thought was a friend. someone i just realized had used me. i was lonely and felt abandoned. it would be easier to just give him the benefit of the doubt...maybe he did love me...i would rather think everything he said was true...i would rather think he is better than that. i would rather think he didnt feed me a load of bs.

none of my friends would pick up their phones. first, rachel....twice, then stuart...then jonathan...ayla's phone was off....finally kaylor picked up but she was at work. it was raining and it's cold...like 59....thats cold. so here i am, speeding along the narrow back roads, on my cell phone, trying to stay on the road with the glare from my headlights and my poor little wipers trying as hard as they can and the slick roads....and no one picked up. i needed to do something, i was already speeding (about 70 on wet, curvy roads) so i rolled down my window...in the rain. the drops stung my hand as i played in the wind. that seemed to somewhat satiate my lust for...something, some sort of action. i enjoy rain, and the cold bit through the cloud of...something. it brought a sort of clarity and sharpness to everything.

i cant sleep during the day anymore...im gonna have to get up early. they are painting our roof...our metal roof. that means they have to scrape off all the old paint first. which means i cant sleep during the day. so, sometime in the morning there are about 4 mexicans outside my window...i can hear them talking and walking around on the loud, metal roof. bits of spanish drift in and out...i can only understand a few words.

ha...3 years of spanish and all i get are a few words.

on an upnote...i found out my uncle DOES NOT have cancer. Thank you, Lord.

i want to make coffee. i bought two gormet coffees and i want to make one of them. but then ill be up all freaking night. that might not be so bad. there are about four movies ive been meaning to watch. i could just stay up all night then nap throughout the day. then ill take a benadryl and go to bed at like, oh, 9. sometimes i have to completely screw up my schedule to get it back on track...i tried to get up at 7:45 this morning...ha...right

Bricks

these bricks are red, dark red and almost brown. the broken edges are sharp. (they tend to break when you throw them, though they are not fragile) parts of my wall, but all "head things," not "heart things." i pick them up all day, juggling them and tossing them in the air. i got hit once...im more careful now...but am i careful enough? maybe i got hit twice...

these bricks are rough. they wear at my hands. my hands are tender, soft...and raw. they tear my hands. over and over i touch them and they tear my hands. ive been picking them up all day...and all night, its morning now.

these bricks are red. they tear my hands.

this blood is red, dark red and almost brown. the broken edges are sharp. (my heart tends to break when i throw it...it is fragile)

im just a child...and these bricks are heavy

I saw you standing there, smiling. But your smile made me sad because I knew it was not for me. So I gathered the bricks I could find, and built a wall between us. Every brick I laid was well thought out and planned. At times I would add bricks, and at times I would tear them off the wall and throw them as far as I could...but I always went to find them. The wall grew, but I never lost sight of your smile, never lost sight of your face. Finally resigned to leave the wall alone, to let it stand, our eyes met across the wall. You invited me to play with you...and you smiled for me.

So, brick by brick, I took down the wall, wincing as each brick broke when I threw it behind me. You smiled at me! I smiled back. I knew that once the wall came down, it could never really keep me again. So I climbed over the remnants of the wall and we played in the cool grass together, smiling and laughing. Then one day, you stopped smiling. Your eyes guiltily avoided mine. Panic began to race through me. "No," my heart cried, "no, don't do that, I haven't stopped loving you, don't stop loving me!"

You stopped playing, and sat quietly on the grass next to me, never looking in my eyes. We sat quietly, my heart crying "no...no" inside me. Then, finally, you looked up, looked into my eyes with yours. Did you know we have the same eyes? I saw again the sadness and guilt I feared. I didn't let you see me cry. I didn't want to leave you with that memory. I wanted you to smile again. I knew you wouldn't smile if you remembered my tears. I didn't want to hurt you. So I smiled, though my eyes burned with tears, and I climbed back over the remnants of my wall.

I will not build it back. I do not have the strength of heart, love, I do not have the strength. Again I see you smile; again I know it's not for me. But if you know only one thing, know this, my smile is for you. It always has been.

"Mother forget me now that the creek drank the cradle you sang to...."
"....so may the sunrise bring hope that once was forgotten."
~iron & wine

ME

Your Birthdate: October 29

Your birthday on the 29th adds a tone of idealism to your nature. You are imaginative and creative, but rather uncomfortable in the business world. You are very aware and sensitive, with outstanding intuitive skills and analytical abilities. The 29 reduces to 11, one of the master numbers which often produces much nervous tension. This is the birthday of the dreamer rather than the doer. You do, however, work very well with people.

What Does Your Birth Date Mean?

Your #1 Match: INFP

The Idealist You are creative with a great imagination, living in your own inner world. Open minded and accepting, you strive for harmony in your important relationships. It takes a long time for people to get to know you. You are hesitant to let people get close. But once you care for someone, you do everything you can to help them grow and develop. You would make an excellent writer, psychologist, or artist.

What's Your Personality Type?