Even though I'll probably be late for class...

I felt like I wanted to write another post. And omg yes..this has now become a regular thing for two days in a row. Alert the press. :P

Anyways...apparently just thinking about you a little has made a huge effect on my subconscious. For I dreamed about you last night. Sadly, I cannot say it was a happy one, as they often aren't.

But what I remember is there was two aircraft fighters...or something.. One was shooting at the other. We were both on the ground, wondering where they had come from and hoping we wouldn't get hit. But either you didn't hide very well, or just had terrible luck.

I heard you scream before I saw the gory hole in your back.

As the aircraft fighter came in for another round, I threw myself over you to protect you, despite the fact that we were both in a panic over your wound. That would be the last time I did, for as the aircraft fighters continued to shoot at us, I cowered more than anything.

I managed to pull you away, and got you into a house where we met this woman. She washed your wounds and dressed them. And I stood there, glad you would be all right.

But upon writing this, I realized a few things.

Maybe I'm still in love.

In a perfect dream, I would've washed your wound myself.

In a perfect dream, I would've continued to protect you.

Maybe that, rather than my bad luck, is why love has been unable to find me. Because I'm that much of a coward...

On the other note, I know it's too much to ask of life to bring you back to me. I know it might not work out, even if it did. And somehow, it would be like my life was coming to a close. But I also know that I could be perfectly happy settling down with someone very sweet who loves me.

Even if I carry this sadness and these memories, even if a glimmer of my love for catches me off guard every now and then.

Maybe I just want to be happy with that someone very sweet after all.

But maybe it's not longer a question of whether it's possible. It can't all be because of my bad luck, right?

Maybe it's because I'm afraid to get hit to get hurt to protect someone I love.

Maybe it's because of me.

Maybe love has been searching for me the whole time but Can't find me.

Apples...

These ones would make particularly good bakes apples..or even apple pie. :)

It's late, and I didn't even really get what I wanted done today..despite more or less having all the time in the world to do it. Isn't that always the case...

I also wish I was tired and sleepy at the right times. Like now. Like not during class.

I don't find a lot about myself that's attractive or amusing...

But I found it interesting that I've started making little random thought/notes in the margins of my class notes. I bet those are what I'll really enjoy looking back on the most.

For instance, apparently, in psychology, when none of us were participating, my professor asked "what? you guys don't want to be memory theorists?" I suddenly jotted down the thought that asked, why are we always upset when someone shows a natural talent for something. Or turned the other way, why do we have to meet certain criteria to be trustworthy? This relates to the question in class because originally I thought. "well, shit. why would we? it's not like anyone would believe our theories, even if we had something interesting to say."

On the one end of the spectrum are we jealous of natural talent, because we want to believe we have the same worth, that we could accomplish something just as great? Are we jealous that we have to work so hard, while some people can just cruise through and come out on top?

Like for being a writer. What's with all these really rigid technicalities? When some of the best-selling authors out there write stories that seem no greater than the ones we create in workshop? Those authors that make many of the mistakes we, ourselves, try to weed out of our work?

Sadly, I have no smart-ass answers.

And so, onto the next bit of thought.

I think I've been fairly independent this semester, which was my goal. Sure, I've fallen into the love-trap a couple times...and it doesn't mean that I'm not grateful to my friends, when they've been there for me...truly, I'd never get very far without them.

There was one night, when i listened to your message. And suddenly, now, more than ever, what you and i had felt like a dream. Or like you died...or just disappeared- and that i really wouldn't ever see you again. That in this world, it would be...impossible. But while I was ever more aware of my heartbeat, I didn't cry. I shut my phone and fell asleep. And despite sometimes wondering how you are, if you're still as taken care of as when I left you, I'm happy to have even come this far emotionally. Even if "when I can't express anything, I can't say good-bye."

I admit that sometimes I wish that the curtain would rise. That God would say "surprise!" ANd my happy ending would finally come. There. Me, with all my friends. And with you. Smiling and laughing...but this dream is still lost within the one that continues.

But, considering, even thus far in the semester, all the ups and downs, with relationships of all kinds, with work, with academics...as of now..I think I'm doing okay. Maneuvering my way through them all, day by day, with, for the most part, a fairly balanced neutrality.

"Every story we're told implores us to wait for it, the third act twist, the unexpected declaration of love, the exception to the rule. But sometimes we're so focused on finding our happy ending we don't learn how to read the signs. How to tell from the ones who want us and the ones who don't, the ones who will stay and the ones who will leave. And maybe a happy ending doesn't include a guy, maybe... it's you, on your own, picking up the pieces and starting over, freeing yourself up for something better in the future."

Maybe I'm still me after all....and maybe that's okay. :)

These tangerines taste great but...

they're just not very filling, huh....

"He is sensible and so incredible
And all my single friends are jealous
He says everything I need to hear and it's like
I couldn't ask for anything better
He opens up my door and I get into his car
And he says you look beautiful tonight
And I feel perfectly fine

But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain
And it's 2am and I'm cursing your name
You're so in love that you act insane
And that's the way I loved you
Breakin' down and coming undone
It's a roller coaster kinda rush
And I never knew I could feel that much
And that's the way I loved you

He respects my space
And never makes me wait
And he calls exactly when he says he will
He's close to my mother
Talks business with my father
He's charming and endearing
And I'm comfortable


But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain..."

I don't particularly care for the melody much..and it's not like the lyrics are the best I've ever heard. But they remind us that we always think about how wonderful it'd be to have the perfect boyfriend or girlfriend. Of course we want to be treated well...I mean it's not like we're masochists....

Right?

Well, at least this is the way I'd rather think about it. It's just these moments that define love. It's actually the moments of conflict and being able to come back together that really strengthen the bonds between two people. It's just that...it seems it's the moments of soft, gentle, seemingly perfect love that we remember. That we want to think that love is.

But now I'm reminded, even if it makes me feel what I never wanted to feel again: that I'm in love you.

Even more so, it reminds me of the crucial point I missed once before, and I missed again: no matter how perfect you might try to be..or how perfect the guy or girl who falls for you might seem, no matter how comfortable your relationship is...

It's not the love that makes us feel like we're alive.

Sometimes it's just not enough.

Goodmorning, headache

There is so much work to be done...and I seem to have little energy or motivation to do any of it. Maybe because none of it helps with what I'm faced with now.

I wonder why, in all of my dreams someone is either dying or closet to being dead. And always involve some kind of struggle and pursuit. I suppose my subconscious is a lot more in turmoil than I thought...

I don't know what to do about you, really. I had told myself before that I can't be around you, if I find myself constantly unhappy because of the complexities.

And yet, I still want to help you. Even though it's complex. Even though we are in love with different people. I still want to see you smile. Maybe because I failed at loving someone before, I don't want to this time.

But I'm sorry. I fluctuate too much with my emotions. It doesn't make for something solid to hold onto. But I can keep trying.

With all this unrequited love, I just want to smile and make good memories too. And I want to help you do that too. Maybe I'm just the kind of person who will do this...even if it exhausts me. I don't know why seeing someone else smile because of something I did makes me feel better than if I were to smile myself.

Maybe because my smiles are often hidden in sadness. It's seems like it's rare that something doesn't have a painful emotion attached to it anymore.

With all this work, I don't have a lot of energy left. I want to do things like go shopping with my best friend. I want to read a good book out in the sunshine feeling a gentle breeze. Sit by a tree in a full forest..and just listen to this music.

And I still want to be in the rain. I want to feel that feeling....like I can wash everything away. Like I can start over completely clean.

Ever since that day last semester...when I felt a change I could not describe...when I lost someone I loved because I had too much faith...the surrealistic dream began.

And it's not over.

To what then...do I hold onto?

Warm...

I realize I actually love the taste of healthy food. Like tangerines.

I also like the warm affect of alcohol...even if it Is more fun drinking with friends.

Today has been awfully weird. Ever since last night. It's like I've stumbled back all of a sudden..and I'm not quite sure where to step next.

What I remember most is that my friends told me I'd regret not taking the chance...but oh...I regret taking it now...

やっぱり、I should've taken my time with the gift I was making for you...because after thinking I was almost done, when I went back to fix it, with the particular materials I was using, I simply couldn't.

Thoughts began to bubble up inside, and tears began fall before I even realized I had grabbed the scissors. I cut and tore through what I had been so happy to work on just hours before, so eager to finish...wanting to give it to you so badly.

In that one instant I remember the line from the movie.

"I looked for the smallest star. The one far away from the rest. Still doing it's best to shine. Still asking, "Don't forget about me."

"Don't forget about me..."

Why am I trying so hard...I remember trying so hard to tear the gift apart...and yet, some parts I had crafted so well, they refused to give way to the blade. I only grew more frustrated. If I had tried so hard to craft this gift to become beautiful so that it would reflect my feelings...indeed- it still did.

My fingers trembled and I had been crying so hard, I my hands suddenly, felt heavy and dropped your gift. I was clouded with my own frustration, I hadn't even heard the quiet voice inside me plead.

"stop! Please... stop...don't destroy it!"

The gift was done in a race against time. I had lost. I had given up before time was up.

And then back into my bed and did what I do too often: crawl under the covers, shut my eyes continue to cry until falling asleep.

But I didn't sleep. I only continued to cry. And when it was time for class, I rolled out of bed, my head spinning.

All I could feel was how cold I was, down to my very toes.

"Enough. It's okay...God is asking me to work harder. It's not the right time. So it's fine...." I wanted to say.

And all I wanted to do was take a break. Lie out in the sun, listen to music. Maybe someone nice would take my hand. Take me to the place I so badly want to go...where I could breathe in fresh air....

Where he would wrap his arms around me...

Where he would keep me warm....

Because obviously I have not the energy...

Despite eating a chocolate croissant (wow i spelled that right) and drinking coke. I swear caffeine and sugar have no real effect on me anymore. Sad.

Anyways onto the more serious stuff. After all that's why I write these. To put down in words what I cannot say.

There's a lot going on that I don't want to admit. Many things that are probably wrong with me. Things I don't want to even bring into the light. All the better them. And seeing them is what would scare me. Can't I just be okay already?

But, here in this dream, I like talking to you. And being with you.

In the psychology textbook it gave an example. I don't remember the concept. Only the example. "The more you try to forget someone or not think about them, the more you you end up doing so."

And so I have a confession to make. My delusional state is getting to me. Every day I desperately try to picture your face when you're not here. But in my warped memories all I can see is him standing where you should be. Maybe that's why I was subconsciously attracted to you. Maybe subconsciously, I desperately wanted anything that made me feel connected to what I had lost. Maybe I've already been unfair to you.

Though fate may have brought us together...maybe it only did so to watch us fall apart...

Every day I live here, I feel like I'm in some kind of dream. Just watching myself pass through life with barely anything real to hold on to. But after thinking about how I've only been able to remember your face twice since getting to know you, I wonder if my feelings aren't even mine to control. If they're even real. If they're all part of the ghost of love past, that I want to forget. And all I can ask is why. Why don't even my memories seem to be mine?

I've been working on this gift for you. I want to give it to you as soon as possible. I feel like the process of making it is a race against time. I've messed up on it already, and start over...but the urge to give it to you as soon as possible makes it difficult to do so. But in the end, even if it takes longer, this is what you'll remember me by, so I'll probably want to perfect it. Of course, I want it to be something beautiful.

I've wanted to be close with you. But I'm frustrated. Why does something seem to be so wrong? Something I can't quite place my finger on. Why am I making excuses as to why we would never work out? Why do I so badly want to protect you from me, though I barely know you? I ask, would delving further into this dream only feed my disillusion? I almost feel like somehow I've seen what will come. And I'm so so scared. Like a nightmare I cannot remember, only to wake in a cold sweat, shaking, the shadows consuming me...

Sometimes you have to learn to live without someone. Sometimes you just have to. Okay, I've been learning. But now, in my frustration I only want to to scream at him

"I want it back! I want to be able to love someone new..."

It's times like these...when I can't speak of love as something beautiful. But this...this to me, is what real love is. No, it's not the same as true love. True love benefits Someone, even if that someone is not you. But real love...you don't see it until you've lost. Real love wraps itself around your very core. Flows into your head and down to your very finger tips. And it doesn't let go, no matter how much it may hurt. No matter how much you may cry. And all you can do is watch your world fall apart again and again in the memory you cannot forget. Every day, wishing for the impossible. Every night, trying to piece together some form of happiness.

Having once held love, why does life now seem like a reflection in a dessert puddle without it? I was happy once. Climbing the pine trees in my back yard. Rollerblading in the garage. Soft, hot pretzels at the mall. All of these things once made me happy. But no matter what I try, why is it so hard to be happy now? Why does everything seem so fleeting? Am I really broken into so many pieces that some are too small to be recovered...or too unique to be replaced?

I'm so ashamed to admit...sometimes I wonder how you are doing. If you think of me...even just a little. Am I really the only one of us, missing the person who once meant more than the life itself?

Will I have to see you again to find the answers? Will it bring peace? Or only make me relive what I cannot forget....

I know I cannot salvage happiness from memories of you. Because hope no longer lies in a future with you. Because I've realized such a future no longer exists. It hasn't since the day I began to feel real love. Back then...when I had too much faith.

But honestly...maybe it's better to fall. Maybe the ground won't hurt as much as I think it will. Or maybe...just maybe...true love will be there to catch me...

While in the shower...

first of all, if your mind is in the gutter, it'll be dissapointed. 'cause it's only full of rotting leaves, bugs and rainwater. moving on.

i realized i haven't written in a while...and obviously don't plan to start on writing here every day...suppose only when i feel like i have something to say. suppose that's the point :P

while in the shower, i realized that learning how to write a good story is similar to living life, although much is already provided for us. Scenes, characters, themes...and so on. But the plot is what gets really interesting. There are a few rules that pertain to things I've experienced lately and will more likely than not continue to experience.

One, if it doesn't make the story go forward, mystery or holding back information is useless. it doesn't create suspense, only confusion. and in life, wholly unfair and downright mean to the audience that is confused and deserves not only your trust, but your respect.

second, usually there are many right answers (actions, words, decisions, etc). but sometimes there's only one. one that feels "right" to you, even if you're unaware of said answer. if you so choose on being forceful, to Force the story to go in a direction you want, sometimes it can end up being the right thing to do. other times, you may get the ending you thought you want, but the characters end up unhappy, and/or the ending won't be right. sometimes, you just gotta let the story lead You.

third, you gotta give the story your all. be yourself, but be passionate about it. the more you give to story, of course the more painful it will be...but the more you'll get out of it and the more chances you'll have at being satisfied when the ending comes barreling towards you (most likely before you're ready).

there might be a lot left unsaid, a lot that should be in this entry that's not. but this, guys, is what i consider a short blog entry :P