| a twenty-something or other's life |
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| so with jesus as my lover,
you're just a back-up plan. |
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| So, I wrote my little brother a letter and well he shared it with his whole class....
Little weirdo.
But apparently it was enjoyed.
Anyway, his teacher had them all send me little notes and t-shirt designs.
Way rad.
To the point, his teacher wrote that she was impressed with my style of writing.
Why can't I do anything with it then?
How can a complete stranger tell from a freakin letter to my brother no less how I write?
I don't get it, I must be missing something. | | |
| I'm almost certain my boyfriend is going to propose to me. Not because I lie awake at night dreaming of such a romantic fantasy per say, but because he told me so, that he's ready. Conundrum is am I still down with the bridal gown? And I’m not the only one asking.
“Stacy, what it is about me that makes you love me so? What do I have to offer you? Do you ever commit to something without really wanting it?”
“Umm…" As I thought to myself, "Yes, yes I do, but shouldn’t he be asking himself some of those questions?”
I quite distinctly remember saying two things as a child:
1) "Ohh, I'm never, ever getting married."
2) "I think I'll have about twelve kids."
Not sure how I planned on doing one without the other, but then again, I'm not much of one for strategy. Now I have the chance to attempt to bust both of them brainchild balloons....
I shan't get overly into detail about how oh so much love I am most undeniably in because come on, that's got to be a given if I was willing to the hilt up until, I don't know, 25 days ago to take this route to devout. So love isn’t at all the question here. I’m not exactly sure what the question is at this point.
Ohhh, to be just twenty-two and having a mind without a breakthrough, oh what do I do with my thoughts askew? Who’s who in the society of beaux? There’s no doubt of my deep affection for you, I’m just afraid to lose my worldview. Baby, can’t you see, I’m not even comfortable being me. Should I even still be wondering if there’s another one I may run into? Some skipped over flavor of sweet fondue? Some old besotted swain from out of the blue? I saw us together in the world stuck like gorilla glue, but now…
Why do I worry? Why do I freak out?
God knows what I need. You know what I need.
Why do I not know what I need?
(In)Side (My Head) Note: I mean, crap, I haven’t seen him for well over a decade and he’s haunting my dreams and realities yet again, why does my heart never stop feeling? Hey, wait, HOLD THE RING, let me make-out with this gorgeous lifelong crush right quick. He’s my biggest, “what if.” This is okay, right my love?? Just put us on hold and see? I'll make sure there's good waiting on the line music. It's what I maybe want, but probably not what I need. I'm too chicken to attempt either of them all. Where's my crystal ball?
Oh bloody, Afghanistan, let me go home, so I don’t accidentally blow a gasket in my case of a basket.
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| After being in one of the most deprived countries in the world, I'll never think I have it rough again. If they can be happy as they are, I should be ecstatic under my circumstances.
If I wanted to share everything I was thankful for I'd more than likely be forced to live with no fingers from all of the typing it would invlove. It's a lot, so first off, I'm highly grateful for them little appendages I've grown.
Since I'm spending this year's season of Thanks(giving) alone in the desert I'm stuck telling myself these things:
To anyone in my life, halfway in my life, or going to be in my life, that's what I'm most grateful for, then again.. there's always,
running water,
electricity,
the USPS,
toothbrushes,
my Dad,
the verb to love,
the thesaurus!,
hot chocolate,
contact lenses,
squishy headphones that stay in my disproportionate ear openings,
gatorade,
the internet,
the zoom feature on my mac 'track pad'
memories,
mushrooms.....,
markers,
hand-written letters,
doxycycline,
TV on DVDs,
and lastly which will come first, friends of the past, the now, and the to be.
That is all.
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| And six years have now passed since I lost my maker. I think I'm okay this time around. | | |
| I've got so much to say it'd probably blow my brains back to Africa (because that's where it was constructed) if I even dare try letting it all out or let alone in any sort of sensible manner.
Because that's become my style: vague and abstruse.
Wow did this place change. I just didn't realize the magnitude of blog writing and the need for trying to be an example. Sucks for them. I conquered xanga a long time ago, but don't worry, I don't stop loving, ever. (character flaw) Either way, I think I'm back. I mean this is my longest running relationship. It has been seven+ years in the making, thanks xanga for never talking back and for being ever so faithful. Plus, how am I gonna get more hits on google in 0.37 seconds otherwise? Umm yeah.
I've completed 42% of my continental crawl. Perhaps not as high for the country quota, but still, progress is progress.
Imagine having the last names "Poon" or "Ariolas" Yikes.
If you think one or two roommates are bad, try roughly 15 on for size!
I think that's what, 5 times more than prison cell amounts?
You can take the substances out of my lungs, liver, brain, and hands, but you can't take them and their ideas or images out of my mind. Ever read anything about addictive personalities? Well, you can't take that mania for anything out of your existence, you just have to live with it or live against it. Using or abusing? Which is it? I know the answer, but there's probably a word for unwillingness to admit the truth. Reverse dictionary anyone? Denial?
Anyway, since when did my thoughts mean anything to anyone else?
Nope, didn't think so.
Plus someone told me thinking is escaping reality.
How does that work anyway?
If you find out, let me know, I'd like to stop thinking and face reality for once. | | |
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