First Christmas

December 21, 2013

Lost and not belonging

the moment she left and

realizing

a lifetime, displaced,

was just a gasp away.

I have been spending an insane amount of time on Pinterest as of late, distracting myself with pictures of pretty hair, organized homes and fashions that are just beyond my budget and for the first time I decided to explore the travel section. I spent a good two hours scrolling through breathtaking photos of clean beaches, lush green fields and dense moss-covered forests and with each pin, I felt this urge grow inside me. I tossed some thoughts around and at first chalked it up to cabin fever. went outside to smoke, made some tea and resumed my position in front of the computer and at that moment I realized it wasn’t cabin fever, it wasn’t just winter blues or needing some non mommy time. I need more. Lots more, from all areas of my life.

I need a change.

And upon this mention, I had never seen him more disinterested in a subject in the two years we have been together.

I’m not okay with that. If I spend another year of every evening spent either in front of a computer or in front of a television, my mind is going to split into a million little shreds of lost sanity.

 

Now comes the heavy thinking…

When time goes missing…

October 11, 2011

These inconsequential moments of clarity are what really matters when things have calmed, but you have yet to clean up the mess they tend to slip in and unless you stop and marinate in them for a moment… You miss them and the storm will have been for nothing. Now, whether you are any less confused after absorption is irrelevant because that’s always a toss of the coin. Sometimes you can stand, with an epiphany of truth and understanding and other times you move quietly for the broom or a pen and are left with an unsettled feeling and sometimes, like now, you are left with both. The meaning just beyond reach and your unsure where you left the step stool. These leave the most sour taste on the back of your tongue, causing large breaks in consciousness and a pressing guilt that you just cant put your finger on.

xoxo

v.

Suddenly, it flows…

September 30, 2011

And you never told anyone that

you gave her a name your

sweet posey, his

spitting image and all I could say

was “I’m sorry”

 

“Forget your personal tragedy. We are all bitched from the start and you especially have to hurt like hell before you can write seriously. But when you get the damned hurt use it – don’t cheat with it. Be as faithful to it as a scientist.”

Who said it?: Ernest Hemingway

Fishing for inspiration…

September 29, 2011

Listening to “Gold Dust” by Tori amos, and digging around my documents I stumbled across a handfull of quotes I had saved for some reason or another and I should share them. They moved me in one way or another, hopefully they will do the same for someone else:

“A man who wants to die feels angry and full of life and desperate and bored and exhausted, all at the same time; he wants to fight everyone, and he wants to curl up in a ball and hide in a cupboard somewhere. He wants to say sorry to everyone, and he wants them to know just how badly they’ve all let him down.”

Who Said It?: Nick Hornby

Source: A Long Way Down

 

“Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn’t something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn’t get in, and walk through it, step by step. There’s no sun there, no moon, no direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones. That’s the kind of sandstorm you need to imagine.”

Who Said It?: Haruki Marukami

Source: Kafka On The Shore

 

“Love is a temporary madness, it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion, it is not the desire to mate every second minute of the day, it is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every cranny of your body. No, don’t blush, I am telling you some truths. That is just being ‘in love’, which any fool can do. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.”

Who Said It?: Louis de Bernie’res

Source: Captain Corelli’s Mandolin

 

“Love is the kind of thing that’s already happening by the time you notice it, that’s how it works, and no matter how old you get, that doesn’t change. Except that you can break it up into two entirely distinct types — love where there’s an end in sight and love where there isn’t.”

Who said it?: Banana Yoshimoto

Source: Goodbye Tsugumi

 

“I’m not sentimental – I’m as romantic as you are. The idea, you know, is that the sentimental person thinks things will last – the romantic person has a desperate confidence that they won’t.”

Who Said It?: F. Scott Fittzgerald

Source: This Side of Paradise

 

“And I laugh now, but I wrote pages and pages of lovesick poems for yours truly. And say what you will–but of all the completely-wrong-for-me guys I’ve fallen for, you were the most right-for-me, and you like boys. So I laugh. Really hard”

Who said it?: Laura

Source: Mewing.net

 

Boys write bad and silly poetry about the proverbial “She”

With a big, fat capitol “S”

“She” is my worst enemy.

“She” is everything I’m not.

Who said it?: Laura

Source: mewing.net

 

Melancholy Thursday

September 22, 2011

A notice, discontinuing and

there are 3 inches of baby powder

resting on the furniture, on a stack of mail

unopened and late and I’m still grasping for the words

to bring this around, to say it so you’ll go “huh”

so I wont have to wait for you to change your mind and

love me back.

So I usually come here when im feeling down, my whole life sadness has given way to some of, what I feel is my best work, or at the very least the most emotionally draining. I have sat at my computer, word open, the cursor blinking in front of me and guess what? Nothing happens! I have moved to a pen and paper, hoping that just moving the pen over the paper, this has worked before, would draw something out of me. Still nothing. Every time I write I always have the words, it always starts as just a list of words be they emotions, objects, people and all it would take was a little rearranging and a pinch of eloquence and spell check and I was always left with a finished product that was a direct and accurate description of what I felt or a story I was trying to tell.

Currently… I still have nothing. I have been doing this song and dance with the blinking cursor for, Christ, months? Something has happened to my ability to say how I am feeling and what is going on in a manner that keeps you just outside the “the know” and….. I don’t know how to come to terms with this.

After what I hope is the final blow in a string of blows throughout a year that has totally blown… I can say this with certain confidence… I am not a writer anymore. Fuck.

I don’t know where to go with this blog anymore, I am grasping for inspiration but I think you can actually reach a point where things hurt so bad, that even your outlet for said emotion, can give up on you.

So maybe I will bore you with my day-to-day rantings and complaining, maybe I wont. Maybe I’ll just post a slew of other people’s inspiring words in hopes that my own inspiration comes back to me. I kinda like the idea of keeping you guessing.

xoxo

v.

Band of Brothers…

November 11, 2010

Moving from room to room

To frame and the twins

Blonde and through the window

Wasn’t it strange how they became smaller,

To move the train?

And they were all there, well not all

But 3 and routine and not a question

As to why or how

Like the last time

At the truck stop when you couldn’t find the camera

The way he grinned….

Sugar, they aren’t going anywhere.

Lost in text-lation…

November 10, 2010

Lets be honest here, your

Looking for an out and

Your usual charade of melodies ending

Isn’t quite cutting it this time

Stay vague, sweetheart

You have a tendency to say too much

To soon and

All he really has to do is listen

To what moves you

Wait for it….

Your gonna blow it.