but they did and so did i that day

As a very typical me move, I told a boy in high school before we ever started dating that this song, Tiny Vessels by Death Cab for Cutie haunted me. I told him that I refused for us to have some meaningless, friends with benefits relationship that ended up in one of us hurt and identifying with these lyrics' story that disturbed me. In a mood for the depressing yet deep music unique to Death Cab on my long drive a few days ago, something compelled me not to skip this song, but to listen to it instead. Immediately the first line grabbed my attention and I ended up listening to it in its entirety several times. When the aha moment came, I thought, 'I might just cry over this.' Shortly after this thought as I allowed the words to slowly fill my entire body, an unexpected emotion came. Oddly, I was excited, because a good cry has been a long time coming. When tears caught behind my eyes and refused to formulate and fall, I was frustrated.
Instead, this "aha moment" resulted in me just being completely shocked and amazed at myself. Almost like I couldnt think about the girl from high school who so boldly stated no boy would ever listen to Tiny Vessels and think of her simultaneously contrasted against the girl who woke up and realized that's indeed without a doubt, precisely what had happened. Miraculously, I managed to walk away unscathed. I suppose this added to the shock of the enlightened moment. One would think such a realization would result in tears. Now that its 2 am, I am returning to these thoughts to test their clarity. But I suppose that if you build a home in your heart with rotten wood that decayed from the start, then you can't find nothing at all if there was nothing there all along (Crooked Teeth, DCFC). So in attempts of not plastering intricacies of what belongs in my journal on my blog, I'll leave you with the lyrics and the warning that, you just never know when life will sneak up on you and a wall you thought was cemented into place had begun to crumble when it wasn't so well maintained. Which ultimately, may not be a bad thing at all.

"this is the moment that you know that you told her that you loved her, but you dont. you touch her skin and then you think, 'yeah she is beautiful, but she don't mean a thing to me.' i wanted to believe in all the words that i was speaking as we moved together in the dark. all the friends that i was telling, all the playful misspellings, every bite i gave that left a mark. and tiny vessels oozed into your neck and formed the bruises that you said you didn't want to fade. but they did and so did i that day. 
all i see are dark, grey clouds in the distance moving closer with every hour. so when you ask, 'is something wrong?' i think, 'you're damn right there is. but we can't talk about it now. no, we can't talk about it now.' So one last touch, and then we'll go. and we'll pretend it meant something so much more. but it was vile. and it was cheap. and you are beautiful, but you don't mean a thing to me. yeah, you are beautiful but you don't mean a thing to me." -Death Cab for Cutie, Tiny Vessels

a king of man? it makes no sense.

“It’s not that I believe, exactly. It’s just that, as with most acts of faith, I can’t afford not to.” –Jodi Picoult, Vanishing Acts

You know, every once in a while I am suddenly struck with how ridiculous "the story" is, the gospel that many of us have built our entire lives around. I can't decide if the ridiculousness makes it easier to justify worshipping Him or if the ridiculousness makes it harder to believe. It's nice on days like this to be reminded of the whole thing- from start to finish. The prophets said He was coming, He was born to a carpenter, He knocked over tables in a synagogue, turned water into wine, fed 5,000 with a few loaves of bread, healed the sick, and preached words that have sustained generations and will continue for years to come. He sat in the garden of Gesthsemane ready for the next step. Then came the arrest, trial and death. And from the grave He rose VICTORIOUSLY.

I've been thinking about the Jews, the enduring antisemitism, what role they played in the crucifixion, the "stories" that I was taught in Sunday School and how differently many faiths that are based on biblical stories and Jesus are celebrating Easter today, how history has changed those celebrations. For someone who's been completely inundated with such a foundation of the Bible, I am finding I know very little. What's that quote, the more I learn, the less I know? I am really looking forward to finding answers to the questions nagging at me that I do not have the time to dive into these days. So, faithful readers, I just wanted to warn you that posts are to follow on a great exploration of religious philosophy.

Of the many things that I love about Dave Matthew's lyrics, I love the random lines that speak to his doubts on God, religion, and Jesus. From Why I Am (blog title) to The Last Stop, he poses questions that are worthy of thinking about any day, especially Easter. Christmas Song outlines the whole story and reminds me, even with cynicism, his sacrifice was all about: love. "The people He knew were less than golden-hearted. Gamblers and robbers, drinkers and jokers, all soul searchers. Like you, and me. Searching for love, love, love."

i count the steps from where i am to where i started

these empty halls held our disease before we caught it.

what a poetic way of putting it. i'm also a fan of the "slow dancing in a burning room" by John Mayer. i cannot stop listening to Andrew Belle. I thought maybe this obsession would pass, but it's just worsening. He needs a new album asap. I can let him have my journals to inspire some more lyrics that I feel like he writes intimately about my life. I love this guy. I'm serious. Okay, now to the post.

I was having an intellectual conversation with a dear friend from high school last weekend to satisfy a longing for one. I get these intellectual conversation itches that few people care to indulge me in. But, I am deeply grateful for those that do. When someone is up for one on the Holocaust, time and place I am there.
Anyway, we were talking about phases of life. It's odd how if a book ends poorly, it leaves a sour taste in your mouth for the entire book, regardless of how much you liked the majority of it. When one chapter ends unexpectedly, or not how you would prefer, that's when you have to remember that you are not the author but instead the reader. You have to pick it back up and keep reading. Eventually, you realize why that was written the way it was, and you're not upset about it anymore. As Death Cab puts it, "when memories of me seem more like bad dreams."

I am a pro memory-holder-onto-er. But in thinking about the importance and uniqueness of each "phase," event, memory, moment, I've made an outstanding distinction. No one particular event, person, tragedy, dramatic episode, accomplishment, test, disaster, hook up, break-up, embarrassing moment, group project or professor will stand out over another. All of these things have encompassed my collegiate experience, or as referred to by some, the "best four years of my life." However, I'd like to argue (as stated in my prophecy I do quite a bit of) that every phase of life is going to be sweet in its own way. Each letter forming words that create strings of sentences to slowly piece together a huge story. It's my job to make sure that story is one of love with no regrets.

I loved taking naps in kindergarten, but I'd really rather not go back to learning how to read. Talk about room for embarrassing moments! I thoroughly enjoyed the breathing exercise that we use to do as a cast before competition play practice or the massages after a long run-through. But if tomorrow, someone appeared with the option to go back to GAC uniforms, regulations, Dr. Morris and busy work, I would mull it over and kindly reply, "no that's okay. I'll stay right here." This is how I want to think about college. I am not terrified of this G-word, ggggradduatttion. I am thrilled for it. I worked too hard for that day to be filled with depressing terror of what's to come and that my world as I know it has ended. So, I'm done with feeling guilty.

Maybe cyncism has creeped in too deeply, and maybe I am just excited for change. Maybe I do love the idea of an "open door" a little too much and that my shaking for my running shoes is catching up with me with remarkably great timing (for once). But, there is no reason to fret. I remember thinking that fifth grade graduation was the end of the world as I bawled hysterically walking the halls of the elementary school. What a joke. At the time, I was legitimately concerned. The very idea of junior high was filled with unknowns and rumors that you had to write in cursive for each class. In retrospect, I don't think I have ever been forced to write in cursive, ever. In fact, much of the time it's the opposite.

I thought I would never speak to those friends again. Those friends that mattered then (actually mattered), still matter now. I don't just still talk to them, I love them even more now than ever. One of whom I called a hot crying mess a few days ago. He gave me a solution and said he'd have vodka waiting for me as soon as I entered Roswell.

I have great friends that have gotten me to this point, gotten me through all kinds of shit and will continue to be there. When they fade (if they do), new faces will surface to help hold me together. Thank you Facebook, blogspot, Twitter, Skype and the not-so-glorious "network" for reassuring me that whoever I want to stay in touch with that wants to stay in touch with me will have plenty of tools for doing so at their fingertips. Though, it is natural at an event as emotional as Senior chapter or intense questioning about post-graduation plans to have "back and forth and in between like my emotion" (Andrew Belle, Static Waves) I'm standing solidly on optimism. When my eyes scan the printed words of "Oh, The Places You'll Go!" I have by my mirror, I am reminded that I have great things waiting for me. Whatever the hell those may be. We ALL do. Regardless of what phase of life we are on. I can't wait to travel to Thailand, to live in Europe, to live in NY, to deposit my first 4 digit paycheck, to stand proudly as a bridesmaid in a dear friend's wedding, to frame my master's degree, to hold my father's shaking hand walking down an aisle of my own, to order business cards that have impressive credentials following my last name, to fall so deeply in love no words can describe the feelings, to win my first trial, to support Reggy and the shelter monthly, to have an excuse to eat cake nonstop all day long because I am pregnant, to run a complete mile without decrepitating exhaustion, to sign the line with my name signifying I own my own house, to look at my first born in a face that resembles my own...

Who knows which of those things will occur and in what order, perhaps all of them will. I refuse to be convinced that at 22, I have expended the best years of my life. Regardless of how wonderful those 22 years have been lived. As "I count the steps from where I am, to where I started" (Andrew Belle, Static Waves), what an insane journey its been. But I am leaving it, regardless of whose permission I have or have not received and going onto something equally great, just great in a different way.

All things are good in their own time. And for this, it is time. As I painted on a canvas as a gift for a friend freshman year, it's time to return to a bumper-sticker inspiration. In the next three weeks, I will live it up and drink it down. Laugh it off, avoid bull shit and take chances, without regrets because at one point, everything was exactly what I wanted.
What I really needed was to reminded last week that "I am the captain of this ship, curious hands and fingertips. It's for no one but me to say what direction I shall turn in now." (Dave Matthews, Captain)

but what if i'm lost AND incomplete?

Oh brother I can't, I can't get through
I've been trying hard to reach you, cause I don't know what to do
Oh brother I can't believe it's true
I'm so scared about the future and I wanna talk to you
You can take a picture of something you see
In the future where will I be?
You can climb a ladder up to the sun
Or write a song nobody has sung
Or do something that's never been done
Are you lost or incomplete?
Do you feel like a puzzle, you can't find your missing piece?
Tell me how do you feel?
Well I feel like they're talking in a language I don't speak
And they're talking it to me
So you don't know were you're going, and you wanna talk
And you feel like you're going where you've been before
You tell anyone who'll listen but you feel ignored
Nothing's really making any sense at all
-Coldplay, Talk

the space between your heart and mine

from ten different angles, i need this song to be repeatedly said to me. otherwise, all my faith is evaporating quicker than i can type this out.
"you cannot quit me so quickly. there's no hope in you for me. no corner you could squeeze me. but i got all the time for you, love. the space between the tears we cry is the laughter that keeps us coming back for more. but will i hold you again?
we waste the hours with talking, talking. 
they're twisted games we're playing.
we're strange allies with warring hearts
look at us, spinning out in the madness of a ROLLAR COASTER. you know you went off like the devil in a church in the middle of a crowded room.
all we can do my love is hope it don't take this ship down.
the space between where you're smiling high is where you'll find me if i get to go.
the space between the bullets in our firefight is where i'll be hiding, waiting for you.
the space between our wicked lies is where we hope to keep safe from pain.
take my hand, cause we're walking out of here. oh, right outta here.
LOVE is all we need here. the space between what's wrong and right is where you find me hiding waiting for you. the space between your heart and mine is a space we'll fill with time." -Dave Matthews
because "I was born in the arms of imaginary friends. Free to roam, made a home out of everywhere I've been. Then, you come on crashin' in like the realest thing. Try my best to understand all that your love can bring. Half of my heart's got a grip on the situation, half of my heart takes time." -John Mayer

asldkfhaio;weurhlakjsdg = feelings. but it's Sunday and I always blog on Sundays. So i choose two songs I have had on repeat the past few weeks and the first Sommee card I stumbled upon that caught my eye because its funny and shockingly too applicable. a post on commitment, trust, lack of trust, decisions, confusion and hard work with irony coming soon. promise.
i am SO overwhelmed with thoughts, i can't even journal about it. #thatbad

pouting and listening to andrew belle on repeat

deep reverie of thought, contemplation and funk. 

senior year really is almost over. the weekend is over. 

and i just kind of wish that i could express those feelings like these little kids. 

thank god there is a caramel cake in the apt. and sommee cards to make me laugh. 

 

UGH WHY IS THE WEEKEND OVER???!

i punched him to be like, yo. what you did was wrong.

come on in through my screen door, tell me your cares i'm here to lend my ears

where you been lately? i haven't seen you much around here.

don't you know i love you when you're down and dirty

don't you know i love you when you're clean

if you could see what i see, you'd see a boy that can't face things.

silent is all he is. 

you know i'd like to help, but when i let you ride for free you drag me down into the cheap, cheap scene.

you got this thing against living with the best, but you sure like to visit me, don't you?

i know everything ain't always what it seems to be

don't you know i love you, baby, anyway i find you, anyway you come.

-Shannon McNally, Down and Dirty

She's amazing. And she's my family. Check her out.

I'm feeling a huge piece of art coming on soon. I need a good way to get out my thoughts, feelings and emotions. I'll take it out on my canvas or Jersey Shore style. It just may end up being both.