Time, it ticks by in seconds... when you want it to move. it seems to not exist when you want to saver the moment. A change is fast approaching (positive thinking) I don't especially recall the first time I went to university, I remember waiving goodbye to my mother as she drove away crying, my face was also wet. The sky was really blue, and the breeze was slight and relaxing, however, I felt so hollow and wound up inside. however, this time is different, I have ventured back and forth from campus many times, its become a home to me.
Going back, to the people, good impressions and bad. To the education I went there for. To the place in my life like any other, full of pain, and smiles, laughter, tears, growth, recession, learning, and education. Back to being broke, scared, overworked, and never paid, to working towards something that is considerably less then concrete.
I'm scared, I do not want to fail again, I'm concerned that this isn't the program for me. That I'm never going to complete anything.
However, the power of positive thinking, I will go and complete a degree, and be successful in something I enjoy. However, I am also leaving something, in this short a time I've impacted lives, Ive made friends, i've altered the life around me. "Home" has been re-evaluated, and re-defined once again.
The work place I'm in now is shit, no one really likes it. That being said, the people, stuck working together, somehow have found a way into my heart. A few in particular stand out, and will remain my friends, I hope.
I hate that my step dad drinks, hes talking now, trying to make himself seem more then he is, he sounds pathetic, and I hate using that word. thats his word, he calles people pathetic to bring himself up from the level of shit he is. When hes sober, not hitting on me, not co-orsing my sister to sleep with him, and when hes not a total ass I can understand why my mother is with him (almost) however, that is a very small majority of the time. I am frusterated. I am going to go shower, and then sleep.
Friday, 15 April 2011
Monday, 4 April 2011
wind it up
Often people don't understand what comes out of my mouth, they don't expect it, and they don't know how to acknowledge it. I'm beginning to think I should speak slow, think fast, and listen more then I talk.
Sunday, 3 April 2011
Setteling in, its a long journey yet.
I have a room, a space, a place, and its mine. It has my things, it smells like me. its crisp, new, clean and all mine. I am tired. So tired I dont feel like typing. My back hurts, my feet are sore, my eyes puffy, and my underwear so far up my... I don't feel like telling the world about my life right now. I am grumpy. But maybe I should quit worrying what the world thinks. This blog is supposed to be my place, my space. I can create what I want here. It for me, not the rest of the world. It me in this space, and I'm all alone, and I'm okay with that... I'm just not sure how cool I am with people watching...
My sister, she has really beautiful feet, they are toned and poised, and look like the should be featured in commercials. My feet can only be described as the hairless cousin to that of hobbits feet. She wears open shoes with little straps, I wear boots.
I am worried I will be alone for ever, when I was small I had a nightmare that everything I touched turned to red sand, and it started with those I love. I tried to hug my sister, and I cried when she turned to sand then my mother would touch me, this continued until I was basically on mars. I also had a re-occurring dream where my mother was mad at me, so I ran away, but somehow the gate out of my backyard lead directly to supermario land, where I joined forced with princess peach and tried to escape my mother and the pose she had developed. We climbed up into a tower, into the only room in the whole place, which was like a mix between my bedroom at home, and the one I stayed in when we visited my uncles cottage. We piled all the furniture against the door, and hid in the closet. I would wake up screaming as snuffalupagus (sesame steer) and the teletubies vacuum cleaner came wiggling through the door.
I wonder where I'm going, what direction I'm aimless floating in within the universe. I wonder if I have a destiny.
My sister, she has really beautiful feet, they are toned and poised, and look like the should be featured in commercials. My feet can only be described as the hairless cousin to that of hobbits feet. She wears open shoes with little straps, I wear boots.
I am worried I will be alone for ever, when I was small I had a nightmare that everything I touched turned to red sand, and it started with those I love. I tried to hug my sister, and I cried when she turned to sand then my mother would touch me, this continued until I was basically on mars. I also had a re-occurring dream where my mother was mad at me, so I ran away, but somehow the gate out of my backyard lead directly to supermario land, where I joined forced with princess peach and tried to escape my mother and the pose she had developed. We climbed up into a tower, into the only room in the whole place, which was like a mix between my bedroom at home, and the one I stayed in when we visited my uncles cottage. We piled all the furniture against the door, and hid in the closet. I would wake up screaming as snuffalupagus (sesame steer) and the teletubies vacuum cleaner came wiggling through the door.
I wonder where I'm going, what direction I'm aimless floating in within the universe. I wonder if I have a destiny.
Saturday, 2 April 2011
Bright Shiny Day
A fresh blank page, how refreshing... rather, intimidating. It starts new, clean, not necessary to look at... and then I open up my big mouth and tell three people about my blog. and I'm I'm worried that its going to lose its appeal because now I face the rather of other peoples scrutiny at my inner thoughts. My thoughts, why do I always feel the need to share them? Why don't I keep anything from myself, for myself.
Alas, a bright shiny day it was, and I was hungover, and very light sensitive. Despite this my skin and my soul are so despite for what little sunshine I can get I soeak it through every pour with mind throbbing enthousiasim. And I told people about my blog. Blog...blog, who the fuck came up with that? and why the hell am I so damn negative right now. it was a bright shiny day, it was fresh and appealing, and it went smoothly, and it was a day of new beinings.New space... a space of my own... I have a home. not a house that my family lives in... a home.
When I was younger, I was afraid of my father leaving, and my mother leaving... never to return. Bio- dad found me having cried myself to sleep in the middle of the afternoon overcome with the fear of not seeing my mom and dad again... I was wearing his replica Indiana-jones hat, and holing a hair tie of my mothers, I had my square blankie around my shouulders and my eyes closed real tight. He was angry at me for wearing his hat, and bending it out of shape because of how I slept.
I feel at home, but I feel lonely.
I spoke with my grandmother today, last time we spoke she told me I needed to learn more respect for my family, when I approached my mother (her daughter) on the subject she told me that nanny is clairvoyant, and she just seems to know what shes talking about without anyone telling her anything. I asked her today if she had any advice for me, it took her a minet but what poured out through the phone flowed through the air like liquid diamonds. It was poetry. And I only could hear half of it because of my shity cell phone reception... the finaly words were something along the lines of " so be careful where you step, and step lightly, because you always leave footprints behind" accept her version entailed the vision of soft earth... I asked her what it was like to be in her 80's she refused to tell me, stating that I would get to experience it myself and she didn't want to ruin it for me.
Thinking about my nanny I am in a considerably better mood, and I have blogged three days in a row now, and introduced one person for every day. Maybe I'll eventually get over the fear that gurgles up through my stomach every time I think of something reading the words that spill out from my head...
Alas, a bright shiny day it was, and I was hungover, and very light sensitive. Despite this my skin and my soul are so despite for what little sunshine I can get I soeak it through every pour with mind throbbing enthousiasim. And I told people about my blog. Blog...blog, who the fuck came up with that? and why the hell am I so damn negative right now. it was a bright shiny day, it was fresh and appealing, and it went smoothly, and it was a day of new beinings.New space... a space of my own... I have a home. not a house that my family lives in... a home.
When I was younger, I was afraid of my father leaving, and my mother leaving... never to return. Bio- dad found me having cried myself to sleep in the middle of the afternoon overcome with the fear of not seeing my mom and dad again... I was wearing his replica Indiana-jones hat, and holing a hair tie of my mothers, I had my square blankie around my shouulders and my eyes closed real tight. He was angry at me for wearing his hat, and bending it out of shape because of how I slept.
I feel at home, but I feel lonely.
I spoke with my grandmother today, last time we spoke she told me I needed to learn more respect for my family, when I approached my mother (her daughter) on the subject she told me that nanny is clairvoyant, and she just seems to know what shes talking about without anyone telling her anything. I asked her today if she had any advice for me, it took her a minet but what poured out through the phone flowed through the air like liquid diamonds. It was poetry. And I only could hear half of it because of my shity cell phone reception... the finaly words were something along the lines of " so be careful where you step, and step lightly, because you always leave footprints behind" accept her version entailed the vision of soft earth... I asked her what it was like to be in her 80's she refused to tell me, stating that I would get to experience it myself and she didn't want to ruin it for me.
Thinking about my nanny I am in a considerably better mood, and I have blogged three days in a row now, and introduced one person for every day. Maybe I'll eventually get over the fear that gurgles up through my stomach every time I think of something reading the words that spill out from my head...
Friday, 1 April 2011
A new day
Today was a new day, it started fresh and extincting, it was full off possibilities. Looking back, this morning wasn't all that great, I had a dream, I woke up, I returned to sleep... my alarm went off and I got up. after that was work, then home, and food and wine and bed. Today started fresh, I had hopes and dreams and thoughts and ideals, and its ending when I get to the bottom of this bottle. A bottle of wine. So simple, so sweet... sure to make me enjoy tonight. but not really. I am alone, I am cold. and all I seem to have a bottle. However. Tomorow is a bright new day. And NO I'm not an alcoholic, no I'm not in denial. I just enjoy the flavor. the flavor the the point of not wanting to brush my teeth because I don't want to ruin the taste. but I can still type, so that's a good sign. The sunset was tinted red, so that's a good sign. I have facebook notifactions and friends waiting, so that's a good sign. Maybe I outta sleep, sleep and wait, wait for tomorrow... looming ahead, bright and shiny and new and full of possibilities.
Thursday, 31 March 2011
The begining of the end...
The knot in my stomach tightens at the thought of reading the words spilling across the page... my mouth becomes dry as my palms begin to drip. The pressure in my temples builds as I realize my fingers are dancing across the keys. Its oddly freeing, realizing the words forming in my head are being carried out in a solid form... as solid as the internet can be. A world all my own. Free of the judgment and repercussions of the real world. At the same time, this world I have the ability to create feels very alone... when I talk outlaid I talk to feel the reaction, the feedback, the connection from another human being. This feels cold. Slow, Unfamiliar. The chance of pace will be good though. This is my world, this is what I want to see. This is what I want to read. This is the voice in my head spilling out across the page. So where do I begin...? Anywhere I want to!
When I was younger, I had a blue bedroom, it was like living inside a robin's egg. If I lay the right way in my bed I could see the moonlight dancing through the branches of the tree in my neighbors yard. I had soft blankets to nest in, I had a doll named Noni to keep me safe when I was alone. I have a sister, and a mother. I have father figures, and reasons to hate men. I have feelings, and dreams and goals and fears and reasons to express myself. I have reasons to write (read:blog) again.
When I was younger, I had a blue bedroom, it was like living inside a robin's egg. If I lay the right way in my bed I could see the moonlight dancing through the branches of the tree in my neighbors yard. I had soft blankets to nest in, I had a doll named Noni to keep me safe when I was alone. I have a sister, and a mother. I have father figures, and reasons to hate men. I have feelings, and dreams and goals and fears and reasons to express myself. I have reasons to write (read:blog) again.
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