Friday, April 29, 2011

I would give everything to never think about her again,

I can only hold on to the things I want to lose, I'm thinking of the day we met, I saw her approaching when she was still far away, I was fifteen, she was seventeen, we sat together on the grass while our fathers spoke inside, how could we have been younger?

We talked about nothing in particular, but it felt like we were talking about the most important things. We looked at each other until it felt like everything would burst into flames. She laughed and said, "You don't understand yourself," I said, "Of course I do," she said, "Of course," I said, "I do!" She said, "There's nothing wrong with not understanding yourself," she saw through the shell of me into the center of me.

She went home with her father, the center of me followed her, but I was left with the shell of me, I needed to see her again, I couldn't explain my need to myself, and that's why it was such a beautiful need, there's nothing wrong with not understanding yourself.

The next day, I walked half an hour to her house, I was too ashamed or embarrassed to make myself known to her, I looked for her all day but didn't see her, I promised myself I would stay until I found her, but as night began to come in, I knew I had to go home, I hated myself for going, why couldn't I be the kind of person who stays?

I couldn't stop thinking about her even though I hardly knew her, I didn't know what good would come over going to see her, but I knew that I needed to be near her, it occurred to me, as I walked back to her the next day with my head down, that she might not be thinking of me. I had to go home, and then the next day, I had to go back to her.

I waited all day, did she go on some sort of trip, was she on an errand, was she hiding from me? The harder I tried not to think about her, the more I thought about her, the more impossible it became to explain, I went back to her house, I walked the road between our two neighborhoods with my head down, she wasn't there again. I went again the next day, with each step I further convinced myself that she had thought badly of me, or worse, that she hadn't thought of me at all.

In between our two villages, on the verge of losing everything, I bumped into something and was knocked to the ground, at first I thought it was a tree, but then that tree became a person, who was also on the ground, and I saw that it was her, and she saw that it was me, "Hello," I said, brushing myself off, "Hello," she said. "Where are you going?" I asked. "Just for a walk," she said, "and you?" "Just for a walk." "That's not true," I said, not knowing what the next words out of my mouth would be, but wanting, more than I'd ever wanted anything, to express the center of me and be understood. "I was walking to see you." I told her, "I've come to your house each of the last six days. For some reason I needed to see you again."

She was silent, I had made a fool of myself, there's nothing wrong with not understanding yourself, and she started laughing, and then I started laughing out of the most deep and complete shame. She laughed and laughed, "That explains it," she said when she was able to speak. "It?" "That explains why, each of the last six days, you weren't at your house." We stopped laughing, I took the world into me, rearranged it, and sent it back out as a question: "Do you like me?"


-- Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

We can do anything that we want to,

and my friendship with Andy Mockler
has truly taught me that.


"Who says I can't be free,
from all of the things that I used to be?
Re-write my history.
Who says I can't be free?

Who says I can't get stoned,
plan a trip to Japan alone?
It doesn't matter if I even go,
who says I can't get stoned?"

Who cares if our choices amount to something?
Sometimes, just the act of making
the choice is all that really matters,
because making choices are what force us to grow.

Andy is an example to me that the world truly
is at our fingertips; what we do with it is our choice.
He is entering the MTC today,
and I know he's going to change many lives,
for he has surely changed mine.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

I usually steal my neighbor's WiFi,

but for some reason,
it is non-existent this evening.
So, I'm confined to an uncomfortable, straight-back
desk chair and wired internet
while I wait for 6 emails full of pictures to send.


I've probably been sitting here for 30 minutes.
Why do I have to sit at my computer
and watch those emails send
rather than spend those 30 minutes doing
something more worth while?
Good question.

Probably because finals are over,
I have these 4 days
to relax and not worry about school,
and because wasting time feels dang good.
But if we're being honest,
even if I was still in school, and even if I
did have a lot to accomplish,
I would still probably sit here and
watch that little blue email
bar slowly fill itself up.

Almost there....

Remedy.




Saturday, April 23, 2011

I have complied my tentative summer reading list.

It is as follows:









Re-reads:




I'm convinced that books are the
reason why summer break exists.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

This is a really great article,

and though it's a little cliché,
it's pretty freakin' true.
There were definitely a couple that
hit the nail right on the head for me.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

It's definitely finals week,

and finals, as everyone well knows,
do weird things to you.
We all have our coping mechanisms.
One of mine just happens to be
accidentally staying up until 3am,
taking self-timed pictures in
front of my apartment complex
with some pals who happen to
have the same philosophies that I do.
Never mind that I had already
faked going to bed 3 times
the night these pictures were taken.






Another great coping mechanism is telling yourself
that you're going to go to bed no later than 11pm,
because of your 7am final the next morning,
but then accidentally playing
jacks until past midnight.
Jacks. Really?
How do college students come up with these things?
Mostly, how did I end up playing jacks?
On a more important note,
I discovered that I have an
uncanny knack for that game.
Also, what is my problem?

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

More music, please.

All of my recent posts have been about music.
I think it's just that time of year
when music is the perfect escape from everything.
I'm like obsessed with it right now.
"It" being music. Every kind.

Last night, this morning, and all day today
I have been listening to this song.
Literally all day,
(it's playing for the 100th time as I type this),
and it's easily one of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard.

I just barely looked up the video,
and my first thought was,
"This is the worst music video I've ever seen."
Then I realized that it conveys exactly what the
song is trying to express.
So, it's perfect.



I feel like this song is applicable to not only dating relationships,
but any type of relationship that we encounter in life.
You can use it in any circumstance that you truly love someone.

Have you ever felt like that?
That you can be the best thing for someone,
but they just don't see it?

"The winds of change are blowing wild and free;
you ain't seen nothing like me yet."

Yeah, Bob Dylan has felt like that too, apparently.

And he's felt like this:
"I could make you happy, make your dreams come true;
nothing that I wouldn't do.
Go to the ends of the earth for you,
to make you feel my love."

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Mostly I'm obsessed with Pat Monahan.

Really, though. He is a genius.
Not only does he have an incredible voice,
but he writes all is own music and plays like 7 instruments.
This particular song really speaks to me right now.
I feel like every song he writes is applicable to my life at some point,
but this one happens to be super relevant.
It is amazing.


"With the sound of a train that I could've been on,
reminding me that the last one's gone.
With you, it's always midnight."

"Are you blind?
Can't you see me standing here waiting in line?
For you. Are you mine?
Not just when you want to be.
All of the time. Are you? Are you blind?
Won't you tell me what it is I'm waiting to find?"

"A way to get back to you;
a way to get out of here.
I don't want to be alone at midnight anymore.
How do I get away? Want to see you in the daylight.
I don't wanna be afraid of midnight anymore."

"With you, it's always midnight."

Saturday, April 9, 2011

There's this weird part of me that really


enjoys a good love story.
Mostly I just love this song,
because it's like...a realistic love story.
I really appreciate a song when its music can
convey what its lyrics are saying, even if the lyrics didn't exist.
This song definitely does. It's so...raw.
So, I jut barely watched the music video and
it's even more romantic than the song.
Props to the Script, because music videos these days
are usually pretty lame.
This band is really talented and their songs are so unique.


Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Apple sort of changed the world.



I added some towels to my crutches,

and they feel much better.
Hopefully the broken blood vessels under
my arms will start to heal.
Also, crutches glamour shot:


Fun. 
Those crutches are set for someone who is 5'11".
Which is funny.
But not as funny as me
opting to limp around the whole weekend,
rather than carry around those torture sticks,
But walking from the couch to
the kitchen multiple times required little walking.
I did get to take a little visit downtown
on Saturday afternoon, which was a treat.
I keep forgetting how many winnas
there are hangin' out on TRAX.
Trains stations are where you can meet
new friends; or your new rapist.

Anyway, there are only two weeks of school left.
Wut?
That's right.
Countemonetwo.


Also, blog titles seriously never fail to mock
my intelligence or creativity levels.
I can never think of any.
Titles are dumb.

Friday, April 1, 2011

It's sunny outside.

A gorgeous Spring day like today
must be coupled with this song: