Three Little Birds

I just want to be okay. I want every little thing to be alright. I know everything I want and I'm completely clueless as to what it is I need. I've had help, thank you everyone who has dealt with me the last few days. I have no shortage of love. I have an idea of what I want but it is beyond me. Far far far beyond me.

Not that I'm trying to have my own little pity party, but just to say it, if a guy like him cannot find it in his heart to love me the way I want to be loved, why should anyone else? My friends (who may I just say, mean well, but could probably be considered borderline delusional sometimes) insist I deserve better. How can I get something better when worse won't even take me? I honestly have no idea what league I'm in. What kind of a guy looks at me and thinks "She's beautiful," "She's funny," "She's got really big hair but I like it." I'm scared I'll set my sights too high. Scared to make friends and find out I am not quite right enough to be more than that. I feel like I'll always be just friends material. What is the characteristic I lack to make me more than friends material?

So I'm scared to try for better, I'm told not to try for worse, and I don't know anyone in the middle.

Let's just be honest, I'm scared. Scared because I no longer have that boy beside me. I miss him. Scared that I'll always miss him. Wonder if he'll ever be there again. What if I never get that feeling back?

My friends can only stay with me so long. Eventually I know I'm going to have to face the bed all by myself and maybe that will be all it takes to get me through this, but I'm so scared of it. I don't want to sleep alone.

Then there's trying to move on. What if it's a replay of last time? He swears he won't ask for me back again because he knows we'll end up here. However what if he did? Would I leave some other guy who probably would have treated me better for what I know won't work out? Who is it going to take to keep me from doing so? When will he come around? I know they aren't questions anyone can answer but how long do I have to feel like this before someone else adventures with me, draws with me, laughs with me, and reminds me that every little thing is gonna be alright.

I'm not as brave as everyone thinks I am. I am not Hamlet, I cannot say, "We defy augury; there's a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come: the readiness is all." Well the readiness is not all. Why am I not as brave as Hamlet?

So it goes.

Hi Ho

I feel like this sometimes, it's supposed to be a wonderful time, you're suppose to enjoy yourself and as an adult you put on your happy face and nobody is the wiser. As a kid if you're unhappy, everyone is going to know. Everyone.

I forget how much of a difference Vonnegut makes in my life. Everything he said, everything he wrote, they all make more sense to me than anything I could ever think, let alone convey in words.

I swear the man channeled every decent thought I ever had before I even had them. I just discovered Vonnegut 3 years ago, give or take, but my thoughts I'd had for a long time before that. He just managed to solidify them and give them a coherency that I never could. Years before I could have ever been conceived, let alone cognitive.

Then I spend week, months, not even thinking about him and I notice a book or a quote and remember that his words are still out there. Strong and influential and relevant as ever, and people still listen to him.

I can't even remember half the things I've read of his, half the ideas I once said were brilliant. It's as though my brain has stored away too much useless information it's started kicking out the pieces I actually wanted to keep.

Figures.

Aeroplane over the Sea

When I went to see Jason Webley he covered a song (keeping his new year's resolution from last year to do more things that are lame, as he says), and he said it may have been the most beautiful song in the last 10 years. I agree:

What a beautiful face
I have found in this place
That is circling all round the sun
What a beautiful dream
That could flash on the screen
In a blink of an eye and be gone from me
Soft and sweet
Let me hold it close and keep it here with me, me

And one day we will die
And our ashes will fly from the aeroplane over the sea
But for now we are young
Let us lay in the sun
And count every beautiful thing we can see
Love to be
In the arms of all I'm keeping here with me, me

What a curious life we have found here tonight
There is music that sounds from the street
There are lights in the clouds
Anna's ghost all around
Hear her voice as it's rolling and ringing through me
Soft and sweet
How the notes all bend and reach above the trees, trees

Now how I remember you
How I would push my fingers through
Your mouth to make those muscles move
That made your voice so smooth and sweet
Now we keep where we don't know
All secrets sleep in winter clothes
With one you loved so long ago
Now he don't even know his name

What a beautiful face
I have found in this place
That is circling all round' the sun
And when we meet on a cloud
I'll be laughing out loud
I'll be laughing with everyone I see
Can't believe how strange it is to be anything at all

-Neutral Milk Hotel

That is how it should be said.

Standing up Straight

Have you ever taken pictures and left them on your computer forever, writing them off as not great? I do all the time and then I look back through them months later and realize that I love the colors, or the angles, or the focus and wonder why I didn't see that before.

Pictures are funny things, they aren't relevant to anyone but the person taking the picture and the person in the picture. Unless you have connection with one or the other. They are irrelevant to most but so very completely relevant to others.

This picture means little to someone who's never seen the wall. However it'd mean something to the person who painted it. It'd mean something to me, who took the picture. So why is it that photography is so popular? So sought after? The majority of photography isn't life changing or breath taking. It's normal, it's a picture. It's nothing special. It's all chicken but the bone. Why do I love it so much then?

What makes Ansel Adams so much different from me? Oh wait Ansel Adams was a hard core bad ass photographer. But given the resources and the time I would do what he did in a heart beat. I would travel and take pictures of breath taking mountains and scenery. It wouldn't be the same though, I wouldn't be revolutionary because Ansel Adams already did that.

I'm limited in what I have and all I can do is hope someone else notices the colors.

I want to paint. I want to create something everyone will see. I want to cut and paste. I want to make things people would love. I want to be revolutionary.

Video Games + Life = Today

Left 4 Dead 2 is out/being played.

Cabo got arrested.

Mario Bros. came out Sunday. Got played.

Quotes:

"Can you swallow?"

"What happens if you eat someone and push down?"

"I'm jerking it as much as possible."

Gwendolyn

Gwendolyn. That's the name of the girl who stole my life away. The girl who in one evening changed the entire course of my next few weeks. The girl who I know will take up hours of my evenings and any other spare time I have.

She's going to have sex with Alistair, she's going to get a dog (which I've been there done that, but her's will be highly intelligent), she's going to slay some bad guys. She's going to do all of this because I can't, and that's okay with me as long as I can live vicariously through her, through the screen.

She's a rogue dwarf, and as soon as I have my way, she'll be a dwarf bard. No one can stop me now. I've started and it's an addiction that cannot be thwarted!

Thank you Dragon Age for teaching me how to game again.

P.S. Did I mention you can have sex? I'm still more excited than I should be about that! It's like Sims 3 with cut scenes!

View from the Pot.

So I know it's only a project for school, and I know I shouldn't be quite so flattered. That being said I am so freaking excited! One of my best friends calls me up and asks if I'd submit 2 or 3 pieces to the bathroom art gallery his class is doing. Whether it's implying that my art is shit or not I haven't decided but it's so freaking glorious.

Who asked me you might feel the need to know. None other than Gerent the magnificent!

How did I respond? With grace and dignity of course: