Blank pages that need writing...

Sunny days that render smiles brings about this youthful feeling. It almost makes you think, maybe you aren’t growing old after all. Maybe you are growing young.

Timeless laughs with friends that live far away, but that live close to your heart, makes the physical distance seem insignificant. Oh, wait... it is.

What if they sold true happiness in a bottle? Would they name it Red Bull? Would they sell it for double the price in a convenient store than in the supermarket? I think they would. In fact, they do.

Do you think wearing headphones for 8.6 hours straight is detrimental to your hearing health? Even if you keep the volume down?...well, “down” most of the time anyway.

Have you ever tried to keep your eyes open for over one minute? Your eyes don’t like it all that much, they cry. Maybe you shouldn’t try it, never mind.

Playing air guitar just isn’t as good as playing the real thing. Guitar hero is close, but still not as good. Besides those little plastic buttons do nothing to help you build the necessary calluses to play for hours without stopping. Plastic is made to be recycled, period.

I’m procrastinating, and I like it. I probably won’t like it as much later on though. Oh well.

Buying a watch for yourself and telling the sales woman that it is a gift so that she will gift wrap it is a bad thing, or not? I just really like to open presents, what can I say.

Getting cigars at discount prices because you pretend to be ignorant and in need of advice is fun, especially if the cigar salesman ends up offering you one of your favorites. Call me a secret shopper, but I was just testing him; and well, that man knew his cigars.

It oddly annoys me when people collectively decide that they don’t like someone when they don’t know anything about them. Did they even talk to him? Did they even learn his story? I don’t think they did. I don’t think they cared. Judge quickly, fools; don’t love unconditionally, fine; but I don’t care what you think. They saw what they decided they wanted to see. A shame I say, he was kind.

I’m tired of the judgment of people. I have finally decided I don’t care what they think. If they want to learn me, they will, and if not, they won’t. I can’t change it. I don’t want to. I want to meet the people that want to listen, that will care, that will love- more than anything, love. And I find once again, that love is all that really matters. Oh, quiet heart, you have finally learned.

Directionally challenged, Diminutive dysfunction, and Dynamite.

Goodness, I’m feeling a little lost about which direction to take, but at the same time I’m excited by not knowing. I think I’m just going trust Him this time. I’m not going to try to figure it all out in advance. I will let the doors that open, open, and the doors that close, I’ll lock them for my own personal safekeeping. Somehow I always try to take the route that is clearly obstructed. Why must I be so stubborn?

I’m a little scared and don’t know what to do about next semester. Italian 2? I’m doubting in my “ability.” Damn you, fear. I think I decided my classes for next semester. I think all I need to do now is get my rear in gear, bust my butt for the next semester and a half and then I’m off to Italia. Lord willing.

Be kind, my heart is much gentler than I make it out to be.

Me? Working for the CIA?
Now that’s a thought.
FLI?
Maybe one day.
In fact, that would be AWESOME! :)

Oh dear friend, gentle heart.

I see the light of your soul reflected in your kindness-filled eyes. How strange. Because I could have sworn my eyesight for this sort of thing had faded over the past few years leaving me unable to see the beauty in the unspoken well-concealed depths of a person. (Or maybe I just didn’t look hard enough.) My initial cynicism keeps me at bay from looking deeper, past the inherent yet unmerited thoughts that my mind immediately constructs. How inconclusively shallow of me. How hypocritical. Yet, my final mental conclusions don’t rest in these unfruitful assumptions that are ultimately dismissed for their intrinsic shallowness. But still, I cannot cease their production. Why doesn’t my mind have a one-touch sleep mode? Why is trusting people so difficult for me?

I sat and listened. I sat and became someone else. I revisited the day their heart broke. I revisited their moment of betrayal. I felt their pain and after quite a while, they finally arrived- gentle drops streaming down sun-touched cheeks. Is it sad that I have to live these moments of relief-filled release vicariously? Am I unable feel this without them? Last time my heart felt this way was about 2 years ago. And still I had their aid. And still I feel this from a distance. This issue of heart breaking, of the aching loss of such a beautiful love- I don’t know what it is like outside of this unrealistic “reality” that I have self-constructed. But realistically, I feel dead inside.

Shade-filled apple trees lined the side of the road. It was as if they gently held shade in their boughs just for me. I would like to think that nature would be this kind. I would like to think that mankind would be equally considerate.

I was feeling a little lonely today, so I surrounded myself with the beehive of humanity. The hundreds of other souls constantly moving about attempting to reach their final destination was enough to distract my heart from feeling inconsolably isolated. I don’t feel lonely very often, but when I do the compression of a trash compactor feels non-existent in comparison.

And I told you for the second time not to love me. You never listen. I love you for that.

I am walking backwards with ease, finding this newness different. My eyes are of no use. They only see what has been; only my heart can imagine what could be.
I dream. I dream. I dream.

Realized dreams are little pieces of me lived out to their fullness, come alive through struggle and sweat, through hope and faith, through mere chance which oddly enough seems perfectly planned.
Planned chance? And the confusion rises again.

Endless struggle attempts to break me from these romantic ideals, but still I believe in them. Silly fool. You are just like the others, the ones you claim not to resemble. The ones you fight so strongly against. You are going to fall hard and you know it. But still you repress and still you hide, lying all the while to protect your heart. It is more fragile than they think. So breakable.

This will become a new thing, this false disbelief. Will someone please prove me wrong? Will someone please stand inches from my face and make me realize there is more. There is a better that has no painful end, no emptiness, no loss of heart.
So would you leave it, never risk it, never become the vulnerability that you very much want, but very much fear?

Dear man, good heart… no.

Without you, I'm giving it away.

I have built up a wall to block you away, to fight you off. I have made it with the thickest of cement blocks and wired the top with barbed wire. Yet still you find a way around. You alone get through to me. I hate it, but not you. Never you. In fact, I adore you.

I do things I never planned if just to let you know how much you mean to me. All you have to do is ask and I will be there, you know. Maybe now you have begun to see it. Maybe now I will find the courage I am so desperately lacking. Maybes never mean much do they? Because maybe I will stay here in this unexplainable state, afraid of your reaction, afraid of my future action, afraid of missing this opportunity, afraid of being judged for this, afraid of being afraid. Or maybe I won’t. The possibilities of the “maybe” are far too many to wade through and discern with ease. So I struggle. Oh where will I begin? When will this end? When will this heart cease to feel this way? When will it finally feel more?

This sucks ass.

“By the way you brought me here, it makes me believe the best is still yet to come
and I don't want to leave. Forgive my hesitation- oh, but I'm learning to trust in you.You've introduced me to the moment, oh but I'm looking to stay for good. If you'd be honest and say what you mean you know I would promise I'd do anything. I know there's a reason. I'm in this too deep and I'm sure that without you, I'm giving it away.”

Beautiful Diversions are fun.

I see beauty where there is confusion. Life where there is death. Hope in the collapsed rubble of a heart. I must make myself look past the obvious if just to keep my sanity.

I enjoy finding the positive in things. Life would suck if I didn’t. I can’t even imagine how someone could live with negativity 24/7. All it does is drag out, beat down, and disenable. People could become so much more if they would use their hearts instead of their minds.

I never thought I would say this. I enjoy Facebook stalking you. It hurts when you speak of someone else when I don’t have the nerve to raise my voice above a mere indiscernible whisper that I would refuse to repeat even if I were caught mumbling something under my breath. But still I love to listen, if just to discover more of your heart.

I don’t know what to think anymore, so I won’t try.
I don’t know what to do anymore, so I won’t act.
I don’t know what to say anymore, so I will let silence rule me.
I have permanently lost my mind. I am sure of it.
Crap.

And now what will I become?

I don’t like the reflection I see when I look in the mirror sometimes, but I know it is ok because I am not going to remain this way forever. This mindset of uncontrollable urges to do crazy things may one day fade, but I pray my sense of adventure stays with me always. I find time knows so much more than me about healing a heart. I think I use too much gauze and too many bandages when a simple band-aid would do. I over think things too much. I know things have gone past the point of crazy infatuation to a point of simple friendship-driven love, but I still want to tell you how I feel/felt about you, if just to make you realize how special I think you are. I think the world of you. I do. But I know nothing could ever come of this in the long run, although the short-term joy seems almost worth it. I wonder what you would think about it. I wonder what you would say if I told you. I wonder what you would do if I tried to step inside your personal bubble of space. If I tried to make you realize the extent of my sentiments that I carried for oh so long. It would be my last hurrah. I wonder, but I don’t want to act on it cause I fear my romantic ideals are far better than any realistic expectancy I could hope for. So I will sit here and let my mind run wild, let me heart run free.

So what if I WANT to "mess up" really big this time?

I wish someone would tell me what to do. I wish I would tell someone so they could tell me what to do. I know what some people would say. "You are crazy. What are you thinking? You cannot do this. You should not do this!" That is just the thing. For once I'm not thinking, I have decided to feel instead. I wish these beautiful things, these feelings, weren't so shrouded in confusion, in this feeling of bleh.
I am so close to saying the words I have practiced to myself multiple times- in front of the mirror, in my bed before I drift off to sleep. After each time the words leave my mouth, I find I sound stupid and give up all over again. A week later the cycle restarts. Vicious thing.
I have never felt this horribly torn about anything in my life. I don't know if it is possible to feel more torn. I wouldn't exist anymore; I am sure of it. I'm scarily near losing everything I am already. OH MY, I wish my mind would stop thinking! I wish my heart would stop feeling! I wish people who say they would love me no matter what would actually do it. But I'm not willing to test this. I'm not willing to lose. I'm just not.


Man, I'm lame...