random smatterings of thoughts that don't necessarily go together

dear diary,

(ha, that's for bekah johns cullen, if she's even reading it.  i don't care, i just love it)

i miss blogging.  i miss feeling like i actually had something worth writing about.

lately...i just don't know.  i'm starting to second guess a lot of things that previously had been set-in-stone truths.  you just never really know, do you?  i'm starting to understand matt arnold's frustration with plans back in the day.  once you make them, they all fall to pieces.  heck just look at my life.  i knew i was going to be married by 22, have at least 2 kids before i was 30, decent job (or better yet be a stay-at-home mom), decent house, a couple of cats and a dog.  and here i am at 28 with nothing except the cats.

i'm not depressed.  i'm pensive.

i wanted to know, and then i found out, i wanted a taste, and i got it.  and maybe i want more, but i'm afraid of what it costs.  and maybe given another opportunity i would verbalize more.  blindsiding scares me quiet. 

i'm really trying to make more time for art again.  i've allowed myself to get out of the game, and now i'm realizing there are a lot of things inside me that need to come out and perhaps a canvas, paint, and words will help.  its expressive.  its therapy.  its birth.  and i miss it.  i need more paint.  i just blew all my blue and green and white on a canvas a couple of days ago.  and i miss poetry.  i'm glad i have that gigantic volume of ee cummings now, because that feeds my soul.  i like to read a little everyday.

some of those things you said hurt me permenantly.

some of those things you said in my presence...were they supposed to be to me?

i wonder what is real and what is in my head.  i wonder what isn't being said.  i wonder if i'm on an island and you're floating away just fine without me.  am i more, or am i less?








I said my goodbyes to the sun
my little one, so far away.
And how strange, how small we must become
yet as familiar as yesterday

The bluest iris that I'd ever seen
She vanished like a dream, sinking back
into the ground
Singing "maybe i'm ashamed and maybe I wept real tears"
but maybe she was hiding because she wanted to be found
You wanted to be found!

Don't be afraid of him.
Be still.

-mewithoutyou

because sometimes someone else says it before i knew the words to say it.