There is something so easy about fridays- especially sunny ones. I actually got up and went to recitation today- that is a miracle in itsself- and i wrote my journal that is only supposed to be a paragraph or two in less than 15 minutes and it turned out being 1 and 1/2 pages... yeah good way to start the day. New major ideas- double in english and comm... minor in women's studies... yeah i will enjoy it- and i was actually called a man hater once- i denied it to the fullest- i still do... and womens studies doesnt mean i am going to be a femi-nazi, but it will be interesting. So much will be interesting. It is sunny days like today I forget to think about where I am going in life and finially concentrate on the process, which i suppose you are supposed to do so many other times. I think we talked a lot about that in leadership, but it just now hit me that that can be applied to my whole life... there is such a process to get where you are going and if you concentrate so much on what you want to be, you will miss the whole becoming- which is the amazing part... the miracle isnt in the butterfly, but in the metamorphisis... not saying that I am a butterfly--- but I think everyone's life will be beautiful in its own way..

happy friday. happy sunny day.

written a little earlier. it was one of those moments I just stopped walking, took out paper and starting writing...

Sometimes I feel like I have just woken from the deepest sleep- that I have been freed from this darkness enveloping my thoughts. It is as if the sun rises, just for a moment and the day is beautiful, more beautiful than I have ever seen. The breeze is slight and the light so warm, it beats down, highlighting every movement, every step.
I don't intend to sit here so long writing, but i cannot help looking around me at the people, the life, the moods- and listen to the birds who sing for the weightlessness of the air, for the clarity of the sun...
How I wish I were in this moment forever- that the shadows of depression would never come back- that seconds such as this would be my eternity.

I dont really know that there are bad days. It is more like bad weeks; one day runs into the next- sometimes things flow a little easier, but everything always comes back to that low feeling, that low place where you are so utterly alone that you are blinded by the sterility of your imagined surroundings. It becomes so hard to seperate reality from what is being created in your mind- so hard-- so out of control sometimes. I wonder if it was always like this and I cannot remember a time when it wasnt. I know in recent years, the frequency of these moments has escalated. The only time I wasnt like this is when I was in love... that was only once... only once was I ever truely happy... but even with that I lost it- in the end I lost whatever control I had... and it isnt as if some of the things I have done dont contribute to this- me, my life. How much harder I could try, how much harder I could care. Of the million times I have said that I am going to change, I cant seem to... I do things I know that are wrong- and I try to resist so much sometimes, but sometimes resistance gets hard- after so long, so much, you break down and give in- and I do things that I dont want to do- but i do them because i am only so strong and can only fight for so long... but again and again i get myself in these situations... i dont know how- i dont know how to not... its a sad day- the day that you truely realize what you are and stop putting up the high defensive walls of immunity to yourself. and to know that no one really understands- that everyone just sees, but they dont understand. they only know what they see- but they dont know how hard i try to be right and do things right- they dont see the thoughts and the fears flying inside my head. i know that if i stay on this current path, i will go nowhere- my standards so high now dimishing to the point that i will be able to accept a life being a barefoot pregnant housewife on her 5th kid- hardly able to give them anything- not even able to afford health insurance because her husband is a drunk who only works when he feels the need and he never feels the need until the liquor runs out or his stomach starts rumbling. I see the small trailor kitchen where all the arguments happen- where i break down into tears and he storms out- and all i can think is god i dont even know if i care whether or not he comes back... and why couldnt i be good enough for even him? ...I was the promising one, the one that was going to succeed, the one that was going to be successful and not have to struggle... i was the one that was going to do it right- i was going to finish school, get a job, get married, and a few years later, have a kid... in that order... i was going to be the first one to do it right--- i dont know anymore that I am going to be able to... i want to more than anything- but desire isnt enough... it isnt enough. over spring break something happened that i never thought would- after this huge fight, my father came up and asked why we never got along. after almost 20 years- he asked why we argued and why there was such hate in us towards each other... after 2 decades-- i didnt know whether to be mad at him for taking so long to ask this or that he had to ask... or be grateful that he did ask and did realize before one of us died and it was too late... i dont know what to do now- i have hated him for so long- so angry at his exisitance- so mad that he brought me into this world that he didnt even want... when i was a baby- all the way up until i was about 4... i dont even remember this stuff-- but my mom laughs as she tells the stories of how he would come home from work or from a 6-month cruise- he was in the navy- and he would pick me up and i would scream bloody murder at the top of my lungs- as if i were being killed because i didnt know who he was--- even at 4 i didnt know who my father was--- he would finially put me down and i would go and run behind my moms legs- trying to crawl up them into her arms--- into the protection of my mother so this stanger couldnt get me... I grew up though- eventually i learned that my dad was my dad... he would come home and clean all the time- then he would sit in the recliner and watch tv until he fell alseep or do the bills- never did he sit down and talk to me though- the only words i ever heard were go clean your room- say your grace- dont chew with your mouth full... i dont know that i have the right to hold it against him though- he tried and worked so hard for our family... 5 kids...thats a lot of mouths to feed- he didnt even really have a father- so many step dads... i dont think he knew how... i dont think he knew what he was doing--- all my life- he didnt know how to be a father to me- and now he comes after 19 years, his life has slowed down a little bit- i am the last one for him to take care of... his life is in order and he decides now... NOW of all times that he wants to be a dad to me... he wants to do it right--- is it too late? i have grown up-- i learned to do it without him- and now he comes and wants the position... is it too late though- is it ever too late? i really dont know on this one- i dont know what to do with everything i have sitting in front of me...the lost little girl that doesnt know whether or not she even has the drive to make it--- somehow it tears me apart--- and i dont know what to do- finially he is there- maybe i could have some direction now--- but i dont even trust him anymore- so many times i have been hurt by him--- i used to wish he would hit me when i was little, so i could have a real reason to hate him--- some real hard evidence--- so my mom wouldnt say i had to love him, he was my father- so they wouldnt say that- so they wouldnt make me hug him and tell him how i loved him... i dont know that i did then- i resented it more than anything- and now--- now i dont know- i do love him- he is my father- i feel bad for him- i feel bad for all the hatred i have thrown on him- even remembering the past- and how horrible it felt and how horrible it feels now--- and how they still try to make me hug him and tell him i love him--- i hate it soo much- its such a jumbled mess- i dont know where all of this came from- i dont know...i am slipping again- and slipping fast and i wont let anyone catch me- when did i become so prideful, not letting anyone in? When did i start to trust no one- and feel such hatred inside of me- such anger towards everything- why cant my smiles be light- why cant everything be so light and airy- so easy so smooth--- instead of so heavy- so like a dead wieght...

I wake up this morning and I feel the weight of yesterday. I am not sure exactly what happened- it was just a bad day, a really bad day- that somehow turned ok. I wake up this morning and I feel almost rejuvinated- but with the scar of yesterday- "coping method"- never let myself forget that sometimes there are those hard days, but when night falls and morning comes again- I am still here- that hard days do go away and good ones come again. sometimes that is so easy to forget. cloudy out this morning. a little cold. but still a brand new day.

i feel special- someone actually wrote a poem for me. Its a little wierd to think that someone knows me this well to capture this, and I am so grateful that she somehow grasped both sides. This is the one circumstance i will probably ever use a person's name on this site. But here it is, I love you Nessa!

-Deanna-

She wanted to dance
She spent her days running and jumping
And cutting red tape with her toenails
But she wanted to dance
She was the tallest of the girls
And the bravest
And the meanest
And the blackest and bluest
But she wanted to dance
In front of mirrors
And in shy corners of her room
Wearing nothing but her underwear
She hummed swan lake and spun until she fell dizzy on the floor
A pile of long limbs and laughter
Exploding on the carpet
She was vicious
But with music
She was slow and smooth and slick and her bones were strands of spider silk
And she knew
As certainly as a good ol’ boy spits and chews
That she could dance
And when she was alone
She did
Slow and fast
And everywhere
In the day
This kitten is a lioness.
She eats men for meals
And slices at her sisters with a dull claw
And intimidates her elders with a sharp mind
But when the dancing starts
The tiger stripes fade into calico fur
And
the choppy angles
That defined the huntress
Melt to curves
That define the lady
And this girl dances
Brown hair flying
Brown legs stretching
Brown eyes shining
This girl can dance







and another thought- its amazing to realize when you have made a friend for life. There are those that you can meet and leave and never feel the difference. But then there are those that you know have forever changed and touched your life. They are few, but when they come, you realize that friendship is more than you could have ever wished for in your whole life time. To those friends- you know who you are- thank you. I love you.

Sometimes the worst days can turn around. Often is the case. You know, it rained all morning, tongiht though, it has cleared up- as has my mood... everything seems a little clearer now, a little bit brighter. It seems that sometimes i have a little trouble seeing the sun through the dark clouds and rain. Like I need windshield wipers for life... intresting concept- too bad the only form that they come in nowadays are pills. But life is good despite this mornings bitterness- but i suppose that somehow it is all going to play into my role of being the tormented artist...

Build your own
Tell me of your genrecey of staying home
Cant be that bad for me
Cause Im not scared
But I’d like some extra spare time – easily
Earn me big money

Im a modern girl
But I fold in half so easily
When I put myself
In the picture of success
I could learn world trade
Or try to map the ocean

When you’re dead
And hospitals and freeways
When you’re dead
And resting homes and clinics
When you’re dead
It must be nice to finish when you’re dead

I’ve had it with you
And Mexico can fucking wait
And all of those
French films about trains
Cause I’m not scared
but id like some extra spare time
I’m not scared
But the bills keep changing colors

When you’re dead
And hospitals and freeways
When you’re dead
Your dress shirts and neckties
When you’re dead
And Apartments on beaches
When you’re dead

They say California
Is a recipe for a black hole
And I say
I got my best shoes on
I’m ready to go
I’m ready to go
Ready to go

These are times
That cant be weathered and
We have never been
Back there since then

Rilo Kiley- Pictures of Success.

But I fold in half so easily
When I put myself
In the picture of success

incoherency
knowing you cant even get through the skin.

bitter raw
sometimes you will catch a glimpse of the stuff i never intend you to see-
not even on here...

Spy- untitiled 17
If I could ever write with the feeling that that piece resonates--- then I will have succeeded--- music into words--- not my words flowing like music- but them evoking the same emotion- raw intensity- lust want need despair death rebirth
If my writing ever does that--- it would be groundbreaking to my world---

but then the question again comes up- have i seen enough- done enough- experienced enough pain and beauty for this to be possible... how...

i want to write the story to this song...

choral 659 for trumpt and organ- as performed by the candian brass---

clarity of the solo trumpet...

clarity and smoothness--- of sound- of notes- flowing one into the other so smoothly...

like some pictures... drawings photos paintings
color blends to color one becomes to other -
something there- mimicing how life should be---
instead of this jumping from river bank to river bank--- everytime
just so slightly missing that smooth flow...

I am starting to realize that I will never get what I want out of a relationship or out of a guy. I dont think my standards are too high- not in general. But for me- maybe they are. I talk to friends and the guys they see give them the world. Not so much in material things- but just in other ways- in thoughts and in feelings. When I was a little girl- I had this fairytale wedding all planned out- i think about it now- and i know that it isnever going to happen. I sit and I wonder sometimes how i let myself screw up so much. I dont think I deserve any of that anymore... I dont think it is allowed to be my dream to be swept up in some perfect love affair where someone loves me as much as I love him and that I love him more than the world. No- i cant even love someone... maybe it is punishment- maybe it is what I get for being what I was--- and what I still am no matter how far i try to run away from it. I wasted my chance. There are those types of people that will see thier dreams come true- me--- i dont think so- not this time around- maybe some other life, some other day. but not today.

a second thought---
No- be objective. i cant look at it as myself- i look at it as some person that has done what I have done- forget whatever good intentions i had, misguided directions... in the end, they dont really matter- it is only what I actually do that matters. how can someone who has done all this deserve anything. im not gonna change- I have tried- it doesnt work. i slow down. i space it out- but it is still there- i still see it in me--- never disappearing...

sometimes it hurts to have dreams...
dreams you know you will never reach-
desires that arent meant for you--- not in this lifetime...

Once again, I should be writing a paper. Is there ever a time that I shouldnt be writing a paper? I dont think so- It sort of goes with the territory of being an english major- I probably have to have a book read by tomorrow too... Yeah I do--- just checked- the fall by albert camus. short book, big writing- i can get it done in a night- not a big deal. I really dont have anything big to say, just procrastinating really, but i am going to get to work now so I can get this stuff done and out of the way. 'Night all!

Sometimes I think, that at least when I am home- I know where my place is. As much as I hate it sometimes, I know where I stand in the eyes of everyone around me. I can't know that here. I feel that sometimes I am too big for my britches, other times that maybe I am not being what is expected of me. There is a hesitation lately... I dont know what to do- when to speak up- or when to step out. Feeling more and more each day that I dont fit into this place- with these people--- and while a big part of me doesnt want anything to do with most of these people, I still feel that need... to belong to something. Its kind of sad when i step back and read what I just wrote. Me who claims independence constantly... As much as I hate it- i need people. and that sucks--- even with this need/want, I still cant change my opinion that eventually everyone will hurt you some way... I love being here. I love the friends I have here. I love the experience, the fun, the learning. It was my escape, my haven...But sometimes I even want to run away and leave all this behind too.

I went camping this weekend.

Can I tell you that I was soo set on not going. I was about to just sit in my room in utter refusal of this supposed refuge into the freezing canopy of nature. I was not going to go.

But I went.

Yes, the first night sucked. I think I was colded than I ever have been before in my life. I couldnt just not feel my toes... I couldnt move them. I could not stop shivering. I went in my tent... blankets, coats, socks, more blankets, layers... No one was there and I cried. I dont even know what for. I was pissed that I didnt want to go and then look what happened. I was pissed at a lot of stuff... at myself mostly though- a little because I was there and I didnt want to be- but mostly because I couldnt see why I couldnt just be warm and merry and have a good time... night passed.

I woke in the morning- after everyone else- the very last one to get up. We played. We ate. Then we went to our "secret spot"- some place in nature you can go to be you and to really know your surroundings- a meditation spot... a place to get the man out of your head- the one that says this is stupid- how long have i been here- im bored... that little man- the rational. And you just sit and think... I will have to say though, i spent much of my secret spot time exploring- do you know how beautiful the woods are? I found a waterfall.... it was tiny, maybe about 2 feet at most. But it was beautiful. The water flowing down was so smooth, like a translucent sheet... the gurgling of the creek was so calming. Once I finiall found the place, i just sat, leaned against a tree and thought, slept, didnt think, listened, looked... there were birds and bugs... and so many trees- and despite the cold- there was so much green. I found these trees, that werent evergreens, and they had these thick green leaves- almost reminded me of something tropical- but of course it wasnt.

It really was beautiful.

I found a beaver damn. So many trees just crossed over one another- walking them to cross the creek. It really was beautiful...

At night we had Capture the flag. We had story telling. It was so warm there by the fire. Roasting marshmellows and hearing all these stories. I dont know- I was kind of quiet- didnt feel like telling one... Another theory some other time on that one though. But everyone has some interesting story somewhere-- you begin to see that everyone has an amazing life- in one context or another- everyone has had amazing things happen to them.

But yeah- in the midst of having no modern day commodities- Something clicked. Peeing in the woods and nearly freezing to death seemed a small sacrifice compared to everything that I saw, everything that I gained. At the beginning I was about to say that I will never go into nature again ... but now here I am sitting here writing about how great it was and I havent even taken a shower yet...

Yeah- I went home...