Tuesday, March 30, 2010

All is Well

It has been so nice getting to spend some quality time with my best friend. I've missed her so much and we spent all day yesterday together just being us. She brings out a different side of me and I'm so lucky to have such a wonderful friend like her. There are so many good times between us and so many memories. I really think that part of who we are and who we once were are still apart of each of us in the memories and times we have shared together. 6 years is a long time to spend as the best of friends and it's funny to see how much we have grown, but better yet, how much we remain the same, especially when we are together. We made a bunch of fun videos on our Macs last night, something we haven't done for a couple years. We laughed so hard and that was really good. I'm happy I stayed the night, we had a blast. I love that she is so happy, I feel she is happier here at JC's then she was the past few years at home with Tony. She loves her dad, but it got to the point that she couldn't live with him and I feel that has really let her come into her own and be herself. It's like she was finally free, free to be her, free to do what she wanted and needed to do, and to grow into the incredible women sitting next to me aimlessly staring at her computer. I'm so lucky. JC is great too. I think he is so right for her and they bring the best elements out in one another. They fit together so well, I love them, individually, but even more together as a loving, content, and happy-go-lucky couple. They make me smile. It's funny, I am writing this as I talk to both of them. I love how he makes her laugh and how easy-going his personality and humor is. They just go hand-in-hand so well and I love that. It's right, this is right, they are right, we are right, ALL is right.

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Don't Give Up on the Lost, the Meek, the Small

I came to you tonight in search of the missing link. I wanted to finally hit that mark, score the winning goal, and meet my maker. I wanted to finally reaching the point of no return where my constant thirst would be met and once and for all, satisfied. I, however, revealed more truths about myself that my self-conscious has quite possibly been mulling over for sometime, but has refrained from sharing with my conscious. I was completely blown away at every word that spilled out of my mouth, yet as you already know, not surprised. It is not surprising that as a reenterd my apartment I sub-consciously did everything I told you I would do. The difference was, after it happened, I noticed I had done just that, nothing. As I went to close my computer I noticed the song title on my iTunes: "God Don't Give Up On Us." It hasn't hit me as you probably assumed by my intro that it would, but more likely grazed my cheek like a feather in the wind, evident yet transparent. One side of me knows what these means, is intended to give me hope, the other end can't make the connection with the rest of my brain, at least the part that controls anything coming remotely close to life and living. It is something I am working on and as the song has so kindly pointed out, so is God. I walked home, not thinking about much of anything, but at the same time everything, and the only thing that came to mind and I inevitably asked You or myself outloud, though which one I am not quite sure, was "Who am I?" I cannot answer that question for you so don't expect to discover the answer sometime in the near future, it will come to me when I let it, when I let Him, until then I am drifting along mindlessly, numbly, and sadly incoherent. Do I want to come out? Yes, I believe I do. I want to understand again, feel again, know again, but I know that today is not that day. Tomorrow very well may not be that day either. I do, however, have high hopes for Friday. It is probably one of those rare moments you hear about in books and fairy tales where one person is looking forward to being broken. I have learned how much my emotions so effect me and ultimately mean to me. They make me who I am, and I love that, if only I could get it back then I would be happy, or at least knew what it felt like to be happy. Thank you for my needed talk, thank you for sharing, caring, loving, praying, understanding, listening, laughing, and being the gift and grace I needed at that moment. I went to you looking for nothing and something all at once as we have noticed has recently become my theme, but I received so much more. You gave me back a piece of me, and I thank God for you and for that. I'm smiling, in my case, that's a step. Though I feel that loving tear in the back of my eye that will (not anytime soon i.e. tonight) come to surface, know that the warm thought is there and that is progress my friend. I hope I can give you all that you have so unselfishly bestowed to me this evening. I needed that and I did not even know it. You know how did though? Thank Him for me will you? I will too, the next time we talk. I did, however, just sit here saying, "thank you, thank you," over and over again in my head feeling nothing but air and hearing only the grumbling of bipolar stomach. I hope you know I mean it from my heart, on the positive side, I know it knows.

I love you, both of you, all of you.


Your soon/striving to be broken friend

Saturday, March 20, 2010


I cannot even seem to process this new information. How do you transfer something from possibilities to reality? I can't seem to get it out of my head. I don't know what to with this. I consistently look at that article trying to make it real, come to life for me so I can process, grieve, and move on. I haven't even cried over it, that is the strangest feeling for me. I feel like I am lying under this giant slab of metal that with one flip of the switch will come down and crush me. For now, it is only there to scare me. I refuse to accept that in actually, it can crush and may very well do just that. Maybe I am denying the facts to spare myself, my feelings, my well-being. Part of me is angry. Angry with myself for not being more upset, angry for being upset, not being able to get upset, and just angry that this is happening. I wish I could say positive things, that is something comforting that goes hand-in-hand with this tragedy, but if they don't believe, how can I say even that? I don't think even we realize how comforting it is to be a Christian, when things get hard we have God, we have this constant love of a Father no matter what. Not everyone has that and we take for granted our obvious advantage and blessing. This is just too unreal to fathom right now.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010


Why can't I tell you? Trust, what is trust? Is it the unconditional faith in your fellow human being? If so, where is the line drawn. When do you decide to trust in yourself and your gut versus the word of someone you trust. I want to know why I found that, what does it mean, does it have meaning at all? I believe in you, I believe in your beliefs, and I do trust in your constant strive for honesty, but I cannot seem to shake the gnawing feeling that something is off. If only I could figure it out. I know I say that when we are together everything is right, but unlike you, I lie. I also feel strange at school. Striving for the attention of others, to make myself feel good, but never acting, knowing I never could. I feel it is the same for you as it is for me, but why does my gut tell me something is just not right. Who to talk to about these things? We have already determined we cannot maturely discuss this amongst ourselves, then who could I confide in? For the first time, I have found something I can address to no one. It is the strangest feeling, I should learn to deal with things on my own without needing to discuss it with someone else, but that is not have I function. It is not emotionally satisfying for me, and more difficult than I had anticipated. Then again, how could I even begin to imagine I would be in this predicament. If the two of you could only decide what you want, decide what is true, and be honest with me I can then take the next step in deciphering this ridiculously difficult puzzle that I can only assume was designed for only an expert to conquer. Ah, here comes the fog. Dark, gray, heavy, and consistent. At least there is still one thing I can count on, the headaches.


There is so much currently happening in my life that is sending my mind into a constant tailspin. I feel like my head it never moving, I stare aimlessly at my school work, music, and schedules. I watch Gilmore Girls in order to escape the constant nagging of my overflowing file cabinet of a brain. Music hasn't even been a sufficient enough escape recently due to the fact that every note reminds me of something I have to do, something I'm thinking of doing, something I want to do, and people I need to deal with. This is not my ideal desire for my daily life. I hate being engrossed in my thoughts by a constant slow and dreary movement of fog that I can visualize passing my gaze every once in awhile. I wish I could write something more substantial, something that actually made sense to the average person, or even myself! I do not understand what it happening. Being with you makes me forget the confusion, yet brings it all come crashing to a halt then jump starting over and over again. It's like a never ending game of Simon says, except you aren't Simon and this is not fun. Does this even make sense? No. Oh to be able to express myself in a clear cut fashion, but the outcome would only bring about pain and suffering as the dagger that pierces Juliet's heart upon eying lifeless her beloved lying next to her. Sleep is a the agonizing turning and returning over glancing at a bright red light that unfortunately only brings the depressing news of three minutes passing since the last time I glanced it's way. If only I could make one, just one, person understand my festering predicament, then all would inevitably set it's self right and I wouldn't have to continue to mundanely talk to my reflection day-after-day.

Friday, March 5, 2010

Sectionals = Sucktionals

Let me break this down for you, I officially cannot stand the fact that no one respects someone who has lost their voice, especially when they are standing in front of a choir coughing like crazy whispering at the top of their lungs, pushing their voice to breaking points, then watching their section stare at them in pure distaste and talk crazy amongst themselves. Some of whom are supposedly friends of mine, can I just personally say to that, bull shit. I worked my ass off up there trying to do the best I could without a voice. Then Rebecca, bless her heart, comes in with the alto section and she does this incredible job. Her and her assistant section leader both commented afterward that you could feel the tension and the fact that the sopranos did not want to be there and they apologized profusely that I had to deal with that. I need them to listen, respect me, and understand that I am trying really hard to communicate with them, but I can't. Poor Jen couldn't get the parts to match up the way she wanted and I know felt very uncomfortable with the idea of leading, but tried her best for me. I am emotionally exhausted, after everyone left last night I just cried at how bad it was. I had some great people comforting me, but the fact that those girls sat in the back and as Grace later confirmed talked a ton of shit just made me really mad. Poor Brian, I ran into him after sectionals and just walked up to him and started balling. He hugged while Jen and Grace explained why I was so upset. Once I had pulled away and regained my composure I apologized for my hysterics and he said he understood and had nothing to be sorry for. He said no one wants to be in sectionals so we get the most crap during sectionals because no one respects us. I can't wait for the next time when I have my voice. This is definitely not going to happen twice. I tried to smile and have fun, and be nice even though I was so frustrated. The whole time all I wanted to do was cry. I tried to keep my coughing to a minimum, and it took everything in me not to cry. I have a second sectional to attend today, not even attend, but lead. Luckily, this won't be my first sectional with them and this choir already respects and loves me. It still won't be easy, but them I can deal with. It's this other choir that I just hate.