this is like so gay, but ...

i'm sorry...

i've been spending the last few weeks of my life feeling like i am too old, or too stupid or too fat to really ever amount to anything accomplished and it's incredibly frustrating.
I'd love to be in a place where I finally felt secure in all aspects of my life instead of just a few. And I'd love feeling like some people gave a shit about me when they were not single or actively trying to not be. Dudes are such fair weather friends.
I'm tired of putting my self on the line for people who don't bother to return a phone call.
I'm tired of subsisting in a life/relationship where I don't feel physically valued or attractive.
I'm tired of feeling invested in people, things, degrees and jobs only to feel disappointed in the end.
I'm tired of all the bullshit.
I'm tired of trying to live up to the image of what my parents want me to be.
I'm tired of apologizing for being a fuck up.
I'm sorry I'll never be what you want me to be.
I'm sorry I'll never be as good as I promise to be and I'm sorry I'll never live up to ghosts of your past.
I can only be myself, and that person is a failure, a hourly retail worker, a fuck up, a selfish bastard, a giant coward and an overly emotional train wreck.

I can only be myself, and that is a person who is full of hope that life will someday get better, and I won't have to beat myself up over what I am and am not anymore.

current inspirations...

Chuck Close "Big Self Portrait"

Jackson Pollock "The Key"

adventure bound...

I want an adventure.
I want a break.
I want to love.
I want to allow myself to be.

I want my own Alaska.

Spit on A Stranger...

However you feel.
Whatever it takes.
Whenever it's real.
Whatever awaits me.
Whatever you need,
However so slight
Whenever it's real.
Whenever it's right.

I've been thinking long and hard about the things you said to me,
Like a bitter stranger.
Now I see the long and short the middle and what's in between,
I could spit on a stranger.
...Pull me out
You're a bitter stranger.
...Pull me out

Whatever you feel.
Whatever it takes.
Whenever it's real.
Whatever awaits me.
Whatever you need,
However so slight.

Honey, I'm a prize and you're a catch and we're a perfect match,
Like two bitter strangers.
Now I see the long and short of it and I can make it last,
I could spit on a stranger.
...Pull me out
You're a bitter stranger.
...Pull me out
I could spit on a stranger.
...Pull me out
You're a bitter stranger.
...Pull me out
I could spit on a stranger.
...Pull me out
You're a bitter stranger.
...Pull me out

I see the sunshine in your eyes.
I'll try the things you never try.
I'll be the one that leaves you high,
high,
high.

-S.Malkmus

R.I.P. AJS...

I am standing upon the seashore
A ship at my side spread her white sails to the ocean
She is an object of beauty and strength
I stand and watch her until at length
She hands like a speck of white cloud
Just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then someone at my side says: "There she is gone!"

"Gone where?"

Gone from my sight. That is all
Her diminished size is in me.
Not in her.
And just at the moment when someone at my side says: "There she is gone!"
Other voices take up the glad shout:

"Here she comes!"

And that is dying.

A Poem
by Henry Scott Holland

it's all of the good that won't come out of me...

The end of August has always been my least favorite time of year. It has always signaled a change of the status quo. I've always enjoyed getting older and the social changes that have accompanied that but I think I have this latent dread from my childhood over every new September spent in the knowledge that a stage in my life is over and another chunk of my innocence gone. As a kid my family moved a lot during my early elementary years. Septembers meant a new school and a new set of friends to make and new changes to adapt to. Some kids are able to use this constant instability to their advantage and are able to pick up on the small social clues and use this knowledge to have an easier go about it. I don't think I was ever really able to do this well as a kid. I think I was maybe too sensitive to it all and thusly took nearly everything to heart. I wasn't entirely a weirdo, I did have friends, but mostly the friends I had were outcasts too and kids who fit in even less than I did. The girl who's father pirated software and shot porn films in their basement who was arrested on my mother's birthday, was my best friend for 2 years.

When my childhood finally settled in one location it was at the weirdo age when all children start to realize the power of social interaction. While I found my place and eventually made it through OK, I still to this day feel perched upon this precipice of insecurity when it comes to change. I know I've sort of become a one note symphony in the last few months about this but in 2 days I'll be burying one of the most influential people in my life, marking this August like so many before it, a turning point. I don't know what cliff I am standing on top of this time though.

bithday bluez...

It's already 1.5 hours into my birthday and already I am struggling with how to feel today. I want to be excited, but I can't rally the nerve. With my parents out of the country I sort of dread who from my family will be calling, although I know I don't want to talk to anybody, but I know I am shallow enough to be hurt if no one does. I feel like everybody wants me to be excited about it but since Pap-Pap died, I knew this day would be difficult for me and I sort of wonder if it is so hard because of his loss or because I kept telling myself it would be difficult. I don't know.

Whenever I think about him too much I start crying and it's over the dumbest things. While I am pretty sure that his memorial service will help me put some closure, I think I'll always feel little raw over it. At the moment I sort of want to run away to the Rockies and climb up high and just sit on top of the world. I'll let the sun burn and blister my skin and let my lungs struggle to take in the too thin air. I'd allow myself to be sick in the dizzy feeling of being that far up and I think I'd enjoy the entire sensory overload. I admit that sounds a little unhealthy, but I think I'd like to go somewhere and do something that required me to be able to use my body for what it's worth. I want to revel in each sensation, the heat from the sun and the cool winds on my skin, using my eyes to see all the brilliance in the thin air I'd be concentrating on breathing in and using to fuel my insides and brain while I struggled to stay on top of it all and be in control. The prospect of all of that sound deliriously enchanting, though I think ultimately any sort of distraction to take me away from my thoughts on the subject would be a welcome change.

Yesterday, I happened into a UMC for the first time since leaving St. Paul's years ago. I had to go into the Fellowship Hall for a pre-assessment for my senior portfolio. I suppose the school didn't have enough space, and so we were in the church. The one thing that struck me was the smell. It was the same industrial smell that is shared with buildings created in the late 60s, plus the smell of all of those Bibles and Hymnals. All I could think about during my pre-assessment were the times I tore through the halls of St. Paul's, running around with friends in between church and sunday school and as I grew older all the time I spent in the church for various Youth Group related activities.

minus one...

Insomnia has been chasing me around for the last week or so. I decided to attempt to ignore it by either getting shitfaced, sleeping at John's, putting on a movie, late night phone dialing or sleeping with the lights on. Some bizarre combo of all of these usually results in a few hours during the quiet night where I can sort of forget that my grandfather died last week and sort of get a few hours of sleep. Last Monday in a session of late night phone dialing I ended up sobbing hysterically on the phone to several people in an especially fucked up game wherein I become this insanely emotionally needy person and need the support of multiple people to get me back to base. Although I realize, when you are in pain and especially feeling the pain of loss it is perfectly acceptable to reach out to others for support, I hate feeling like I can't keep it together and especially allowing other people to see that. Enough. Today I've been awake since about 7:00AM and it's now about 5:00AM. Long day, can't sleep. Same story, different shit.

be amazed! I comand it!

where I abuse flickr to show you what I did this weekend...

Thursday:

five four

photo by: xx0230

Bang Gang

photo by: xx0230

Metropolitan

photo by: dotslinesandpolygons

Pela

photo by: dotslinesandpolygons



Saturday:

Dismemberment Plan

photo by: Ed Dame


Sunday:

Gravelly Point

photo by: k0rben

Hains Point

photo by: johnnymetro


fin

random thoughts...

1: Bear Grylls, have my babies.




2: It's just a piece of dirt in my eye. No, totally, I'm fine, really.




3: I can't deal with teh cuteness.



4: Coo-coo Ca-Chaw!



5: RAD

heart pains...

My mom called me yesterday. She and I talked about where our lives are headed and while for the two of us things are going well, I am unsure about some members of my family. My grandfather was miraculously able to recover somewhat from his most recent bout with his blood disorder and secondary illnesses. After talking with his doctors, he decided to recuperate as much as possible before undergoing a second round of the treatment that had crippled him so much before. As it stands now, he is still in the process of becoming well enough and requires transfusions often just to stay alive. My grandmother, asked my mother to call his doctor and ask if he ever thinks my grandfather will be well enough to undergo a second round of chemo. His answer was, no. While I suppose at this point, everything remains status quo, it is incredibly disheartening to hear. As it stands he'll be receiving blood transfusions from now until whenever it is that his journey on earth is over. Unfortunately this option leaves him with considerably less of that time than if the chemotherapy treatment was successful.

The other issue is my uncle. During the time of my grandfather's hospitalization my mother's family were all assembled bedside with the exception of my uncle who hasn't really been in touch with my family except to ask for money from my grandparents. It has been a tenuous situation which has been the cause of a lot of stress and conflict for my mother especially. While I don't really know enough or think it really appropriate to go into detail, it has become obvious to my family that he isn't in a place where he can really be trusted to make good choices for himself. My grandmother is in the process of finding a lawyer and beginning the process of declaring a legal guardian for him. As far as I know he isn't stoaked on the idea, but it unfortunately seems like the best choice.

All of this is just sort of breaking my heart, slowly. I just want to go home hug my mother, pet my dog, go driving with my little sister and call my grandparents and tell them I love them before the luxury of being able to do that is taken away from me. And then there is the VT massacre. While I am fortunate enough to know no-one affected directly by the tragedy, plenty of my hokie friends are taking this, understandably, rough.

On a slightly more positive note, I have an interview lined up for Saturday. Wish me luck.

funemployment...

Well, it is closing in on one week of unemployment or "funemployment" as I've been calling it and I can't figure out what to do with myself. It is great not having to go into a work environment that was making me rather unhappy on a very consistent basis. Still I am feeling extremely antsy. I have plenty to do, but I am constantly checking myself to see if I need to be somewhere at some time, what I need to bring, what I need to do and etc etc etc. I just need to breathe and relax and finally get my school shiz in order and succeed.

I still don't think I'm over being fired. I really liked the actual job. If I can look at it from the point of view of my bosses I might have deserved it a little bit, but honestly I still don't think it was warranted. I HATED working for them. He mentioned during the firing call that I didn't respect them and no I didn't and I'm sure it was finally showing through.

I thought I was going to write this whole long post about why I hated it, but eh it doesn't seem worth it now. As it stands I'm looking forward to brighter and bigger and better things!

blah blah blah....

(my great grandmother Mc Andrews holding my grandmother)

I'm in one of those sort of restless moods lately. They happen to me every once in a while where I feel the compulsive need to re-arrange my furniture or cut my hair or get another piercing or get a tattoo or drop out of school or move across the country or make something or go visit my parents or etc., etc., etc. I have no idea why. I just crave drastic change.

Usually when I've felt these impulses they've been directly connected to the depressions of my life. I've acted on them as a way to shake myself out of them an into a place of growth instead of stagnation or even worse, decline. I don't know why then, this time when I am actually happy I still crave a drastic upheaval. I'm not going to stress about it too much, but for now I think I'll try to satiate myself with the easiest of changes, like cutting my hair or maybe starting a painting. I think I may have solved my creative crisis of never being able to produce when I am not in a state of unrest.

On to something else... My grandparents are preparing to leave their home in Florida and move back to Western Pennsylvania. I am really excited about this as it puts them into a distance of driving rather than a plane ride. I am happy for Mom because she'll be closer to them. I worry about my grandparents though, mostly because I hear snippets from my mother about how apprehensive my grandma is about the move. It does mean that they will have to give up a large amount of space since they are moving from a home and into a condo. My grandma is convinced she won't be driving anymore and will have to regulate her live to living in a gigantic senior care facility. Although my grandparents are old, they've never felt that way to me. My grandma is constantly out and about doing different things, singing with different choirs and meeting with her friends from church.

The move (although it is somewhat premature) to an assisted living facility is really for the benefit of my grandfather who's struggle with his blood disorder is becoming more and more unpredictable. He was recently released from the hospital where he was for a few days after some bad results from his monthly blood testing. Although he is fine as he can be, it really bothered me. A few years ago he had a heart attack which was a blessing in that without having some sort of health crisis they would have never found his disorder, but was the first moment that I really had to deal with their mortality. My grandfather and I share the same birthday and we have always been really close. Through all of my ups and downs he was one of the few people who I felt never judged me. Every time I speak to him he tells me how proud he is of me and how much he loves me. The thought of losing him is a loss I don't think I am at all prepared to deal with and fortunately for now it is something I won't have to.

grrrrr...

Yeah, I know I've mostly ignored this thing for a while and now I am only going to sit down and hastily express my frustrations in a poorly worded entry but whatever, I'll probably delete this later.

I'm in the lab at school freaking out about some bullshiz that has grown to be exceptionally annoying as this week progresses. It is my fault. I am well aware of that. There is probably a lot I could have done to make my life easier up until now, but I put it off and it didn't get done and story of my life. I think I've done enough self sabotaging in my life to realize at this point that I should probably stop, but when have I ever taken anyone's advice, let alone my own.

F this. I'm so ready to be done and to move on.

chirstmas vacay a (spotty) photo retrospective...