The Quiet of Dawn

It's 609 in the morning. I woke up at 530. My father wakes up every morning anywhere between 430 and 530am. Even on the weekends, he's up before 8am. My family always gives him hell (with good intentions) for going to sleep at 8pm. Yesterday I slept the better part of the day. My Friday evening, although fun, was busy as was my entire Saturday. Yesterday was recoop day. My alarm was set for 630 this morning, but I woke up an hour early. I used to have to get up this early in high school to catch the bus at 615am. I never complained and never overslept. When need be, like my dad, I enjoy these early morning hours. There is something so peaceful about being awake when everyone else is still in slumber. It's different than staying up late. There is a different atmosphere and feeling. I feel rested. I'm drinking a cup of coffee and actually have time to spare instead of rushing like I sometimes do in the morning when I only have an hour... I've cleaned the cat box and swept the kitchen. I've made coffee and I'm waking up and it's quiet... I love that I hear nothing. All I hear is my own breathing and the tap of these keys. Even my cats wander around silently, and aahh there is the click and hum of the refrigerator. Moments like these put me in a good mood. I see why my father enjoys waking up at such hours, even if to others it seems ungodly. There is time for one to relax and collect their thoughts. It feels special. I'm in my world and there is nothing else to disturb it. No one is going to call me right now, or send me an email. There is no reason to watch TV. Maybe this is as simple as things can be... the gloaming of early morning is like life without technology. Today will be a rainy day. It will be chilly as the high is only 43. I don't mind though. I feel energy induced and happy. All is right in my world.

That Cut on the Roof of your Mouth...

Here I pour my soul out to a void of nothing connected to a web of pages and links. I ask for nothing in return. I have simply found a space to exercise my demons. Of course the paper is always nice, but my fingers move faster on little plastic keys. Therefore, this ritual is less painful and the cramp I've developed in my right shoulder can stay away since I don't have to pick up a pencil.

I have the "after dinner sleepies." I could probably go to sleep, but I know it will pass and I'll probably wake up at like 2am and not be able to go back to sleep, seeing as I've spent most of what was a gorgeous day in an unconscious state. I don't regret though, it felt good to just rest and not have to be anywhere. I even had a good meal and didn't have to cook it. That's what friends are for right?

I had a purpose... I lost it. I'm sitting in my snow globe and there they go, all my thoughts swirling around me and snatch! If I can just grab one and pin it down. I had the sudden realization earlier, while sitting through the niceties of dinner and whatnot that I am interested in the lives of others. I ask what people are doing, what's going on, yada yada, but rarely do the people I'm around ask this of me. Of course there are some. That isn't to say that everyone I know is unconcerned, but it was a sudden realization followed by annoyance.

Of course we are all self-focused. This is what humans do. We are in it for ourselves. I hate Ayn Rand with a burning passion, yet it is truly the ideas which she espouses that people embrace. Capitalist whores in a selfish, self centered ME based society. Yes. That sentence is dripping with loathing. I can't think about these things too much. This is the mankind, the world which I wish I didn't live in. This is the place where I don't feel I belong. What happened to giving a shit? Maybe I do care too much - about everything. It will never change. It's how I'm made. I am an old soul. My world isn't this one. My world has passion and cause. My world fights for a cause. My world dies for what it believes. No questions asked. How can anyone walk through this life and refuse to be all in. Jump in. Hold your breath and swim goddamn it! People are too afraid. Let go! Fear will kill you. Fear is killing us all. The freedom you feel when you just let go... it's amazing. It's not about not caring, it's about living. Sure, I still think about what people think of me and the impressions I make, but I only give it so much thought. I am me. If people don't like or accept me for what and who I am they can move along. I will compromise and meet you in the middle if I feel you're worth my time. Prove it though. Prove your worth.

I've had to reassess my ranking system as of late and truly "the benefit of the doubt" isn't necessarily the best way to go. Yes, everyone should start at the bottom and work their way up. You'll get your stripes when you can show me you deserve them. I kinda feel like over the past 5 years, I've been working on thickening my skin. I care about the people who care about me, but I've resolved that I can't worry and waste my time about those who are insignificant. My sponge-like nature can cause harm to my heart. It is necessary for me to be guarded at times. If I could save the world I would try, but I can't. I should reserve my empathy for the people who need it.

Now, of course all of this blogging might sound so melancholy and disturbed. I suppose the next statement I'm about to make could be ridiculed as me worrying about what outsiders think, but it's not. I promise. I am a happy person. I am so blessed. I don't believe I was supposed to have life in this world. An anecdote: I was born very ill. I was hospitalized for 2 months. My mother watched and waited and tells me I fought to live ever day for those 2 months. I was 3lbs. In the course of 2 months I came to the US as a 9lb healthy baby girl. Knowing this about my past, memories which are lost to me now, I love life. I haven't always. I've often felt my fate should have been met all those years ago, but I was given a chance. I'm not a quitter. I fight 'till the bitter end. My family is the most amazing part of my life and like any family we have our moments, but the laughter and joy I find there is like no other. My parents are indescribably fantastic and although friends may be less at this point in my life, the ones who choose to be involved, I offer you may utmost appreciation.

Life's to short to waste it. Be ambitious and spontaneous! Who said being "a grownup" meant you had to be "serious?" Eff a bunch of that shit. I hope I'm the way I am right now when I'm 55. Blessed Be world.

"...We're always changing..."

"This isn't love and I guess I'm gonna have to live with that..."

"But we're always changing..." Anna Begins... I thank Kat for reminding me of the awesomeness of lyrics of The Counting Crows. I've had an interesting 2o hours or so. My sleep schedule is still crazy backwards. I'm sure going back to counseling next week he'll say "how are you sleeping?" and I'll say "I don't" and he'll say "why?" and well.... hmm I don't know why. I'm a nocturnal creature, but I think I also avoid sleep. So yesterday I came home and needed to sleep and took a nap from like 3-8 and was like "shit!" I woke up for a while and went back to sleep around 9 and woke up again at 11pm and then when I checked my email, for a minute it was like someone punched me in solar plexis and I lost my breath and felt empty. Empty. That was the only way I could describe it. Two tears fell. One from each eye. And then the more I thought and the second and third time I read, I found myself getting more emotional and confused. After talking it out though... it just went away. I was for sure it was exhaustion and when I woke up in the morning I would be sad and reflective, but I wasn't. I didn't feel sad, maybe a little confused, but the emotional surge I was expecting never came. Six months ago I would have lost it, but now "I am not overly concerned." This is a good thing. I think I didn't trust myself, that I would be "over" it, but I am. And then the day got stranger.... stranger in a good kind of way though, as if I was really walking through a dream.

1am I made bacon and eggs. Eat. Digest. 2am Xfiles - nod off. 4am stumbling and noise in the hallway and a text message. I woke up. I was asleep on the couch. I guess you could say Thursday I woke up at 4am because I didn't go back to sleep. I had to kick my neighbor out at 9 so I could take a shower and go to work. WTF!? Shitty scifi movie followed by another 3 1/2 hours of conversation, followed by... Feeling 16 again. Then an 8 minute shower, dressed and out the door. Work was a void. I had lunch at noon and then here is where the nexus started to collapse.

I wrote Ted back last night. I didn't figure it would matter at all. T and I walk in Java Joint. It was crowded people were in line and not in line and I was trying to figure out what I wanted to eat and in my own little world. We sat down and she's getting the low down and I say "I think I just saw Ted's car drive by." Fast forward. 330pm. I'm getting ready to leave work. I check Facebook and I have another message from Ted. "I couldn't believe I just saw you. I just read your reply 20 minutes ago and I was prepared to talk to you." I'm staring at the screen. I think my mouth was open. I'm trying to remember who was in Java Joint and I'm thinking people were everywhere and wearing coats and hats. I was sleepy and not attentive. I saw him? He saw me? What is this weird, weird coincidence. Message number two was kind and hopeful. Should I be angry it's taken 8 months to get closure? Or should I just accept that some people need that long. He said... it's taken this long. I think I'll put anger aside and just accept it as it is. What's the point in getting mad?

So when it rains it pours. My neighbor. *laughs* Probably a one time thing and if not, probably not a relationship. A good guy though. It's sad, I don't think women realize that men seem to hurt more from breakups. I think they take them much harder and have a harder time moving on and healing. The good guys shouldn't finish last. That sux. On the unconventional side of things; in and out and hot and cold, but some things come to light when you least expect it. My intuitions tells me to keep holding on. I'm not too invested. I don't care too much. I am what I am and I do what I do. I trust my gut. I know more than people give me credit for.

As Mr. Durden says, "You have to give up." I mean really. If we are only promised about 92 years in this life, then why not do it all. I'm learning that everyday. Consider the consequences of your actions yes, be kind, be truthful, be honest and loyal, but live life. I don't have regrets. I think I used to, but now everything that comes my way makes me who I am. It's my story. I love the story I have to tell and the one I'm gonna be able to tell. People come into our lives for reasons. Some stay and some go. Now, the people in my life are necessary. They all fill a role. There are certain ones I hope stick around. There are others that will go and that is the way of the world, but for a guy who doesn't give himself a lot of academic credit, 4C raised a good point last night.

The Oracle of Delphi (or any oracle) what if it really wasn't magic, what if it wasn't even ritual or anything remotely spiritual? What if those individuals are just that tuned in? What if some people are just so perceptive of their surroundings that they just know what's going to happen? If one is observant you begin to notice that the same scenarios repeat themselves, the same emotions and feelings; all people have them. I'm not "psychic" or an oracle by any means, but I think sometimes I'm tuned in in a way maybe not everyone is. I feel things. I see things. I'm usually not wrong and that can be scary sometimes. So with all that said, right now, I'm watching the game play out. Right now. I'm staying and I'm waiting and I'm curious. This is ok with me. I know it's what I'm supposed to do.

I have spent the last two hours going back and forth between work and play. I'd hate to have a "Here's Johnny moment" because I didn't get to play. Wow, did I really just make that reference? I had delicious broccoli cheese soup for dinner and I'm thinking I need to make an appointment for a massage because this damn scapula won't stop aching...

I wrote on paper the other night. I tend to go back and forth between the digital journal and the paper journal. I'm transferring what I wrote the other night here, simply because I liked it. I need to revisit it. I need to see it on the screen? Oh, and since I sort of just barged into this the other night, I did forget to mention a disclaimer. Not that there really needs to even be one, but for some reason, I need to say this: MY WORDS! MY thoughts. If you don't like them get the fuck off my blog. Here I can say and will say whatever I want. This is me embracing every emotion and feeling I encounter. This is my place to expel, reflect, think, rant, and rave. If you can't handle what I have to say then don't read it. If you don't like my opinions, then go away. If you want to be a prick, then bother someone else. I will not censor myself.

So, now that I've said that - a piece of my brain from the other evening.

It's weird. Suddenly I'm looking through a mirror, but not one where my reflection looks back at me, but where I'm looking through the glass. The outside looking in. I'm in a box. There are four walls and I'm listening. I'm hearing and watching the world around me. My finger traces the underside of the paper in hand. With no hard surface it follows the pencil horizontally across the page. And now, my bubble pops - this box was just occupied by another! Not just I. Full. Empty. Duality is something which can occupy the same space. Opposites can occur simultaneously.

Too Drained To Begin

I set up a blogger account. I used to have one of these back in the day. When I think about how long I've been "playing" on the internet it's kinda crazy. I don't run across too many people who remember BBSes, MUDs and MUSHes... IRC. My the evolution of this thing called the web has changed. Sometimes I miss it's simplicity. I miss the simple transfer of files with my IRC client. I spent hours upon hours in #porn. We OWNED that channel and not once... hahaha was there ever porn. Just a crazy bunch of teenagers being pirates and maniacs. The web was so much simpler to hack *evil grin* The grand SCHS internet money making scheme of 1997 is since past... oh, that was such fun. "Hacking" ain't really what it used to be. I lost my skills long ago. I thought I was too drained to do this... I guess not. I miss writing the code. As amazing is the internet is, I actually miss simple HTML. PHP and C++ all got complicated along the way. The code still lies there, underneath it all. I'm not sure people even realize that yes, DOS is still on your computer. Eureka! Computers had to get smarter because people are stupid? Mayhaps... it used to be a "leet" thing to know anything about the inner-workings of a program. Now anyone can have a webpage without ever having to do anything but click a few buttons. Oh I remember memorizing the color codes for pages, all the little short hands on the keyboard... Is this how my parents feel sometimes; longing for and reminiscing of simpler times? Forget that I will only be 30 in 2 months. I sound like I'm 50. Haha!

Twenty-ten. In two thousand, ten years ago, I was wild and my emotions ran rampant. A trip to the inside shook something loose and for ten fucking years I've been working on it. I've been learning myself and others. I've made vast improvements. Leaps and bounds. The scars are always there to remind me. Twenty-ten. It's my time to shine. I feel and know and breathe...aaah, I breathe that now... in this year, something will give. Something must change. The numbers are even, the planets have shifted... I have to give up. I've been giving up and giving in and evolving... It's my turn to win. Success is the only option.