Publicize

I suddenly feel like I'm spilling everything, every word I write, is revealing every little bit of my feeling. And everyone can see it. Even though no one reads this blog. But even if I mask what I'm saying, and I'm just talking about what's on my mind, the people will see through it and my naked love, dispair, confusion, all these heavy words. I'm not sure if I can mask them anymore. Maybe, I don't want to. But that's not what this blog is about. I'm not here to write about my life, in a direct emotional way. I'm here to put out the more complicated, (theorietically) insightful parts of living. But if all I can say is "I don't understand the way you think" and "I regret this and this" and "I love you" and "I'm confused because I'm 13" etc... - then why am I here? Now, every time I sit down to write a post, I ses straight through it. And since you all know me, and my life, and what I'm doing, you'll figure it out too. Which means, this is like having a one-ended, heart-to-heart that will remain forever on the internet. That's not very wise now is it...

Sounds

This post is inspired by a suggestion from Lola

I love the sound of the last drop of water falling into the filled tub, or to the bottom of the shower.
The sound of a perfectly tuned Conga drum when lifted and makes a bass sound
I love hearing car doors slam and the sound of fingernails tapping a windowpane.
I adore the sound of that whoosh, that means that someone has just IMd you for the first time.
The sound of the airconditioner humming along to reggae blasting all summer long.
The sno-cone man's bell from five blocks down.
Sounds of cars on wet pavement early in the morning
High heels on stone
Spanish
The sound of a lock opening successfully
A hollow sound found from a random piece of wood
The slam of a door behind you as you step out into an empty hall
The perfect high-five
A crunchy piece of ice being stepped on

Awesome sounds of the world!

Smile

A smile is your one defense between YOU and THEM. When the world is crashing down, a deep breath and a smile is gonna save you. And nothing else! Hiding makes you disappear, denial makes you stupid, crying makes you look like crap, and then you have the issue of how to stop. Talking may land you saying stuff you really wish you hadn't said, and sitting not doing anything at all is never going to work either.
But I never realized how equally difficult it is to smile through a dead feeling inside. I never realized how much energy and self-pursuasion it takes, to make yourself care about things you don't and say things you wouldn't say, and to artificially pick yourself up, put yourself back on your feet, until you're ready to walk again. Those moments of wandering around, like you've just been born... I WAS just born and I'm ready to deal with the consequences. Breathe deep flower. And smile. Because if you can, then you've created the barrier between... THEM and YOU. A barrier you can see through, but none of them can. Smile. Smile. Smile. It hurts, no? Just smile.

Back

I am going to close my eyes right now. And the tears are going to come streaming down my cheeks, down my neck and the two rivers will meet at my spine. I am going to take a deep breath, and it will take me a full 65 seconds to slowly let it out. I am going to open my mouth, and wait for words to come. But they never will. I will stare at a computer screen and listen to the sound of a clicking keyboard, but I will still not understand exactly what is coming out from my fingertips. I feel my life rewinding, I feel like I'm crawling back into prehistory. I've already zipped through November, now I'm living October. October was long and hard compared to December. It was full of constant doubt and playing every card carefully... yet I'm still confused what the difference between October and December was... on that spectrum. Did I not think the same thoughts, only by December they were reality? I feel as distant from you as my birthday. September. August. August was like a stab in the chest followed by hiding in a hole. July, July ends it. My memory ends in July, my time travel is limited to July. Because so many things were a myth in July, so many people were different, including myself. There was so much left to figure, so much innosence. No, we can't go back THAT far. But maybe tonight we'll understand, because we will have lost the past 4 months. Maybe, but we can only hope. It seems I can't understand anything being thrown at me these days.

Different

You're different. You are not the same person you were... you've lost yourself. How can I track my own progression into airheadeness, if I am me? They say, no, you're still you, you're just different. You've been gone for a while hon, and we're just waiting for you to come back. But how can you say that? How can you tell me that I have departed, entirely from the world, that I'm running around being someone I'm not? I can't tell you who I am, where the old me went, or when or why. But I look in the mirror, and I must agree. That person is not me. Just because I figured out that this is a new world and I am evolving like a weakling to it... but I can't do much about it. I can try and touch worlds with what it was like before... but I can't remember. All I know is that there was a longing, and now it's gone. What did I talk about? Who was I? I'm a stranger in my own life, dropped into a world and now you're all telling me how to play my character.
The music reminds me of a time beforehand, reminds me of a past life, and i listen with every bit of my soul, reaching out to grasp moments that made up who I was. Lost thoughts. The days were together and alone, sweet and dreamlike, thirteen was a land so far ahead and magical, like the beginning of my life. When I said my life had restarted, I was being symbolic. Or not. I don't want to lose who I was, nor do I want to drop out of the new world I've discovered. Is there a compromise? And can I find myself, those fragments of my own existance everyone insists are there? Please, just stop looking at me like I know what I've done and I could fix it willingly. Because I may try, and think I'm pulling it off, yet you say, I'm still different, not who I was. So what am I to do?

Say

How did you come to form those words? What was the inspiration? Are there fairies in your ear whispering them, is there a script somewhere? I'd love to crawl inside your head, stay awhile, listen to the echoes of what comes in, and what goes out. What is real, and what comes through the "this is what you say to accomplish your goal" feed. I'm picturing it as an office running thoughts like paperwork, and some things are done the right way, by hand, while others the company buys off of China, for cheap labor. So now, it's a matter of what thoughts you get, and where do they come from? Like buying mysterious food. You don't know where it's come from, or what it's been through...

But are you getting me? Sometimes I just wonder about this. Because you like those words, you respect those words, they make you happy - whatever - and then where did they come from? The source of all statements to trust or to distrust, unknown at times, to the person running the company of thoughts. AKA, you. But that's a whole different story. I leave you, still wondering, why you say these things.

Run

Run away and hide my darling, you've wanted to all week. One week can feel like a year, easily. You can take something as simple as a look, as a word as a glance, project it, go insane, and cry. But if you realize that this is all your past, you wake up the next day and smile. 'Cause you got that "I-don't-have-to-freak-out-like-that-anymore" feel, and although the old feeling was something to grow used to, people don't usually wish it back.

Still, every day is scary, and new and unknown, every day is about crossing bridges, and discovering the one's we've gone over. Every day is something I didn't understand before, and something that I just figured out, experimented, or triumphed. This is why I want to run away, and it's not 'cause I don't love you. It's so overwhelming and so unknown, and some days I think, maybe I should just get out of this before it goes bad. But day by day it's not gone bad yet, and these days don't last forever. Don't run away darling, it's all good.

Rut

Every day, Ms. M glares at us and tells us to go downstairs. We smile at her because we know this is our routine greeting, at 12:40pm. So we go down and we go to the pizza place, our pizza place, where we live. And the little mexican guys know that she gets a plain slice, and to skip over us, 'cause we're with her. We grab our seats at the booth, the two of us on one side, her on the other. To even switch places would be too daring. We have the usual conversation, the usual raiding of each other's food, the usual taunting of the the newbies, and with our memorable moment of brillant humor and friendship, the days go on the same. The pizza place is like our home to crash at, and the Convinience Store Not A Deli is our best friend. We wander in there, to debate over what kind of candy we want that day, and how much is too much, and how to win a smile from the indian guys at the counter. And after countless crunch bars and 5 cent mints, we reach our final destination of the benches outside the school, where we three pounce, trying to win a spot in the desired middle. One of our beautiful quirks is our obession with being in the middle. So we sit, with our other friends, with whom we meet up with at this spot. We hug and dance and enjoy our little routine, until one-thirty when the routine is played out.

Thus, we are stuck in a rut. I see from where they come saying this, we have a way of life that we stick to... daily, and while it is comforting, and enjoyable, after a while, you realize, this happens every day. Why does it happen every day? Why doesn't something different happen? Well now, apparently, I have pulled us out of a rut. Apparently, I am the driving force, my life which happened before my eyes, has become this rope to pull us out of the norm, and into a more unexplainable, unusual place, because of something that none of us saw coming. Out of the rut my friends. Except, I don't even care about the rut anymore. Let the run be, to catch me when I fall. And let my life live, because I love it.