Five years time

I might not know you

Five years time

We might not speak

Oh, in five years time

We might not get along

In five years time

You might just prove me wrong

He responded with, "so it's like heroin? you take some and are like wow this is nice. Then you try to quit and say it's not right for me. Then you go back and it's even better than you remember it. You then convince yourself that it's not right for you and that you should stop doing it. But you can't keep yourself from getting near it and wanting it, so you've pretty much just lost yourself...yeah?"

I respond with, "yeah, guess you can put it that way, lol"

"Yes, it's the 22nd, but I don't know how old she'll be"


- Older than she should be on the outside and younger than she should be on the inside

What's Your Definition of "Home?"

Many people close their blinds at night, yet I pull them completely open. It allows me to fall asleep to my favorite light and wake up to the sun shining on my face. Which is the one feeling that makes me feel like "home." Not the feeling of being home, just a type of security and trust.

When I was younger, I took all of my naps near the window so that I could fall asleep to the warmth on my back. With the California weather, I took these kinds of naps fairly often. Naps were one of my favorite childhood past times. Yet there is a particular memory that ceases to fade.

During preschool, I was dropped off at a daycare. There were nature trails near it and we would all go as a group and the caregiver would take us for walks. We would see lizards and bunnies. The trail even had a specific smell that I find gets triggered at different moments in my life. I can remember it vividly. When we would return from our walk, we would lay our blankets out inside of the daycare to nap. I always chose the glass doors to the backyard because the sun shined straight through onto my heavenly napping place. Although, that wasn't my favorite part. My favorite part was being woken up by the tapping on the glass. Waking up in a state of vulnerability and comfort and seeing my father's smiling face just outside of the window. When my father smiles, it isn't just a smile, he smiles like a child who just received the best gift of his life, the gift he's always been asking for. An exaggerated excitement. I woke up to that every Monday-Friday until Kindergarden.

As I've gotten older, I've stopped intentionally taking my naps in the sun. So when I find myself waking up to the sun shining through the window and onto my face, it doesn't upset me, it wakes me up with the best feeling of "home" I could ever experience and it can never be replaced.

Time

I can't think of anyone better to care for you

But I can't be a replacement

Or the filler of a void

"Do not walk in front of me

I may not follow

Do not walk behind me

I may not lead

Walk beside me

And be my friend"

When the hole in your heart is full

An addition can be made

Like a cherry on top of your sundae

An extra special gift for your heart

As opposed to a substitute ingredient

Only one can satisfy

Only one can fill

Only one can make you whole again

The creator of life

The giver of all things

Ask and you shall recieve

You're Free in a Dark and Stormy Sea

Lying down, my back on my pillow,
Light-brown liquid hovers in my peripheral view
The aroma of dark roast coffee
It's home, a coral blue mug
I place it on my chest
It pulsates, rhythmically, and the light-brown waves toss back and forth
Reminding me that life is never smooth and calm
That my heart still beats and I must go on

Too Cool for School

I'm starting to remember the habits that school stress created in me. It's easy to compare a stress free eight months to the ADD, nail biting, unmotivated, procrastinating, anxiety sleep/dream habits that are creeping back into my daily breaths.

I like the way you said "I love you" on the phone.
Maybe one day I'll be the one on the other end.

Till the Promise of Peace

It's funny.
I feel like your little kid again.
Waiting for you to come home even when you never did.
I've been checking my email constantly for the past two days.
Cause you have no money for a phone.
Which worries me.

It took me 22 years to finally be mad at you.
Only about a month to forgive you...again.
So here I am for the millionth time.
I'm holding an illusion of hope and promises.

I love you and I hate you.
I want you to write back, but it'd be better if you didn't.
When it comes to you, I'm still that same child.
The same child that waited for you on those many Christmas mornings but you never showed up.

There's one thing that brings me back to you.
The thought of losing you.

She lost her mother. I lost mine.
Though she can't find her mother like I can.
To find you, then lose you again.
That's all I ask.
Till the day one of us dies.

Another Reason Why We Work

You don't remind me of my father or my mother.

We Were Together for Nine Months

Fingerprints made of dirt and sin

Touch the fine lines within this wooden table

Attempting to feel your soul through a mysterious connection

Our genes are equal

For I am the babe of your womb

A mother is a mother

Yet the idea is not the same

Counting the quarters in my hand

The amount of silver layers equated to time

The time I'd spend wasting

While you spent them wasted

Your money turned me into an amazing Pool player

The sound of cracking pool balls and chalk rubbing on the end of a stick

Such beautiful musical notes turned into high pitched screams

The only memories I choose to remember

Using my senses to search for nothing

My ears unavailable

I don't listen for your voice or your words

Emptiness. 

Yet my dirty hands and sinful heart

Try and find you here

Sharp, thick, black lines in this wood

Slice through my skin

Time wasted

Your silver layers built into my filthy hands

What the Heck!

Before the fall of the Roman empire, Leviticus was written in the Bible as a form of public health laws.  Cleanliness and hygiene were important. Though, during the Middle Ages, Christianity had changed to an extent that "personal hygiene was not practiced, and as a consequence, an entirely different attitude toward the human body developed. Excessive care of the body, that is, man's earthly and mutable part, was unimportant in the Christian dualistic concept, which separated body from soul. For some Eastern churchman and holy men, living in filth was regarded as evidence of sanctity; cleanliness was thought to betoken pride, and filthiness humility."

And we wonder why people take the Bible as they want to. Why everyone seems to follow their own path. Nothing is clear.

Reading nutrition is so orgasmic right now!! So happy to be reading about it <3

There is no "somewhere else"

I found this written on a stranger's blog today:

Made Still -
It’s dangerous for me
To look at photography
Or watch nature shows
Because I start wanting,
Wanting a piece of that magic
And a slice of that beauty
I start wishing I could be there
To smell the wind
And feel very small
Or very large
As I take in the magic
And the beauty
Of nature and creation


... and I can't help but think she already lives in that "slice of beauty." It is here. It is now. A photo can be edited, distorted, to be "more beautiful," when in reality, the natural beauty is in her backyard. It is in her friends and family...it is in her fingertips, her skin.

To reach a state of complete physical, mental, and social well-being an individual, or group must be able to identify and to realize aspirations, to satisfy needs, and to change or cope with the environment. Heath is therefore, seen as a resource for  everyday life, not he object of living. Health is a positive concept emphasizing social and personal resources, as well as physical capacities

I Do Love Contradictions

You've packed up your gear

Put on your helmet and your goggles

You step closer to the ledge

Your heart begins to race 

Thinking about the crazy stunt you're about to pull

You double check your parachute

Maybe a hundred times

You tell yourself to keep breathing

Keep breathing

A specific type of fear running through your veins

Along with excitement and adrenaline

You look around for encouragement

A push

You step back only to make a last decision of whether to jump or not

Forcefully, you push yourself to start running so you have no other option 

You're flying through the air thinking I did it, I did it

You land saying, let's do it again!

You want the fear, the nerves, the endorphins, the adrenaline

Over and over again.

An addiction

Wanting fear and excitement at the same time

It's crazy

Just crazy

The mind is a dangerous place
The heart can push you too far
The body can fail you
But the soul will live on

Music is better when we're in your car

Beauty Will Rise

I don't really like celebrating birthdays. I don't like celebrating birth... days.
What we do is celebrate our birth every year. I think there should be one special day for celebrating your birth... the day you were born. After that, you are re-born every single day, sometimes a few times a day. I don't see the importance of having people focus on you and give you gifts for something that happened years ago.

Our death is celebrated once. I feel like that's something that should be celebrated every year. It's the day that all your sorrows and tears are no more. When you did the best you could in life and you loved to the fullest. "You fought the good fight" as someone I know would say. Isn't that something worth celebrating? Over and over again?

Don't get me wrong, a birth is very important too. Though I feel as though it is a more selfish celebration. We don't deserve gifts for being born years ago. What is that teaching us? That we are special, sure. But isn't that what loving someone everyday is supposed to accomplish? Maybe I'd feel better about it if everyone in the world celebrated their birthdays on the same day. An all together inclusive thing because we are all alive and experiencing life.

There's really nothing wrong with birthdays. I would just rather not celebrate my birth every year with gifts. I celebrate the fact that I'm alive every single day of my life and I don't want a day to be focused on me for such an occasion. When I say celebrate someone's death every year, I mean that not as a specific day with gifts or a real party but more of a ...they lived a great life, I'm hopeful they are in a better place, and I'll be with them soon, kind of thing. A thought more so than an actual day of celebration. A way of letting go and remembering them.

Like most things in life, I am completely okay with people who find significance in birthdays and wish to celebrate them. I will continue to celebrate them for the rest of my life and do so with joy.