Well, It's been a while...

I certainly has been a while since I last wrote here. It's almost refreshing to take a break from the pressure of my goal to write almost everyday. I don't always have something to say and sometimes there are things that I'd rather not share. It's also nice to be back on my couch in front of my laptop, with my blog.

  To tell you the truth, not a lot has happened over the past 2 months.With Christmas vacation and now exam week, I've had a lot of time to sit and think. Sometimes I think I've had too much time to sit and think. Too much time by myself that I've become ridiculously awkward around people. But that story is for another day. Anyway, I've been reading and studying and writing, taking pictures and occasionally cooking. If I was someone other than myself I would be board out of my mind, but Grace doesn't get bored. Seriously. I could sit on my bed and stare out the window for hours and be perfectly content.

   

Socially Awkward

  Very Busy week ahead...Very Busy! I'm not usually busy. I've always been one of those people that avoids things that would compromise my free time. Like any kind of extra curricular activities ( meaning basically anything other then school.). I like being alone, and being busy tends to take time away from my alone time which doesn't make me happy. But right now, I am busy and it doesn't  really bother me because I'm doing things that I enjoy. Things that wouldn't be as fun alone as they are with people.

   I like being alone because I am free. I can do whatever I like in my own space with no one there. No one being there means that there is absolutely no need to be acceptable. I can run around in pajamas belting out my favorite show tune and I'm not embarrassing anyone, myself included. It's great. And sure, I get lonely after a while, but only after a while. I like people and I like my life. But I like myself better when the two aren't mixed. Example: I love orange juice. I also like brushing my teeth. But it I brush my teeth and then drink a glass of orange juice...well lets just say that the taste in my mouth is not something I like. So yeah..There you have it! You now know that I'm socially awkward!  

Fields, Streams, Trees, and Pebbles

  Take a pebble and through it in the stream. Take another pebble and through it at my heart. Ping. That's the sound of it bouncing off my heart and landing in my cupped hands. It doesn't hurt. Ping. That's the sound that I hear when you look into my eyes. Mesmerized by your gaze. It's like looking at a beautiful flower. A work of art that is unlike anything you've ever seen. Everything is a blur except you. You and your pebble.

  I am balancing on a tree branch. Will you catch me if I fall? You've let me fall before. Falling in that that sense is bitter. It confirms everything you wanted to know and while you hit the ground like a ton of bricks you realize that you're at the end of the story. And it didn't have a happy ending. But life is a series of story's.

   There's a field that I dream of. At night I drift to this field and I run free and I fall into the tall grass and it's nice. I sit on a blanket in the middle of the field and sing sweetly. The sun is coming up and shines in my hair. You are there sometimes. Standing in the distance. You won't come to me. I'm afraid that you'll never come to me. Every night I will come to this field where it is always daytime, and you will be frozen in the distance. Not moving towards my blanket. I try to ask you to come sit with me. I love being alone but not always. I'd rather you were with me right now. Instead of standing in the tall grass that hides everything but your face from my eyes. I get up and run to you. Jumping over stones and brushing my hand on the ends of the weeds. But you look away and something stops me. You are fading away into the sunset. And I am awoken by the breeze of you disappearance. Awoken into the dark artificial world that I live in. Closing my eyes to hold on the the last bits and pieces of the memories. The pebble and you throwing it and the field and the blanket and running to you and reaching to you and looking into your eyes. The flowers and the sunrise. The world of a beauty that I can only dream of.

  

Simplicity or Life...Choose One.

I spend a lot of time wishing people were more straight forward. Less complicated. It would be so much easier than having to guess all the time. It would get rid of most misunderstandings. So simple. And in a way it would be good. Better. You know, like knowing what someone is thinking because they walked up to you earlier and told you in person. The only thing is, do I really want to know what that person is thinking? I want everything to be crystal clear, but what if it's horribly clear. I'm pretty sure that we're not that blunt for a reason. You can't be that clear with some right from the beginning. Things change, people change, feelings change. There are people that I wouldn't be friends with because didn't like me before. When God made this whole thing up, he did it perfectly. Cause when you think about it, would you rather be confused and curious because you don't know how someone feels or alone and hurt because someone you loved made it clear to you that they didn't love you back? Would you rather lose sleep over someone or lose your life over them because you know you'll never know them the way you thought you needed to know them? Life hurts enough, we don't really need to know the feelings of others...and just think, would you want others to know how you feel about them? What would you rather have Simplicity or Life? Because they certainly don't go together, and thank God for that.

Remebrance Day

Remembrance Day was always one of those Holidays that I respected. I mean, even when I was younger, I wrote poems and won metals and certificates and money for them and I was always proud of myself. I always thought that the achievements based around that day were the reason why I thought it was special. But I realized that it's the other way around. How can you win metals for writing about something that you don't actually care about. Remembrance day has always been important to me, one of the reasons being that it was the the one holiday that I could express myself and my feelings and my talent openly. It's one of the most influential day's of the year for me. It signifies something that I care about and it signifies my talents and my passion. So I'd like to say a few words to the people who make it possible for me to express myself...

Thanks, for all the free days that I've grown up in.
Thanks for the inspiration.
Thanks for the bravery.
Thanks for reminding me how great I have it.
Thanks for fighting for the future.
Thanks for making the Ultimate Sacrifice. 
Thanks for Remembrance Day.

April come she will!

Seasonal Affective Disorder. Ugggghhhhhh! The three words that describe why I think everything sucks and why I'm such a downer most of the time. Hey at least of have an excuse right? Ha ha ha... This makes me laugh. Really hard. It's pretty much the only thing that makes me laugh these days! Get it? Ya know cause I'm depressed? AH whatever...anyways... all I can say is that I can't wait until SPRING! Or at least until the sun comes out. In the mean time I will just listen to a song that describes my mood...literally...

Cry

I sit in one of those really uncomfortable chair that they have in waiting rooms ant hospitals staring at my hands. No tears, that's for those emotional girls that cry when they watch movies like The Notebook. I didn't cry when I watched that movie. I cried when my grandpa died though. At the funeral. In the graveyard, it was raining and I took my shoes off and ran around. I remember the way the grass felt under my feet. It was one of the best feelings. I could have stood there barefoot for the rest of my life. With Grandpa. To tell you the truth, I didn't know him all that well, or at least I don't remember knowing him very well. I remember that he like juicing, and trucks. I remember once he called someone a fag in front of me and my grandma totally freaked and scorned him and I thought it was funny cause I didn't know what what the word fag meant. Now that I think about it, I don't even know why I cried at his funeral. I wasn't close to him at all. Maybe it's because I know he loved me. And anyone that care about you that much has to be worth crying for. Someone who is so happy that you're alive that their telephone password is your birth date is worth crying over. Don't waste your tears on The Notebook. No one in that movie cares. But you can cry at your Grandpas funeral because he probably cared.