Currently:

This is a good month for me thus far I could suppose.  I’m a full-time student again…for now…finally.  I still work full-time (at a nightmare of a dental receptionist job).  A favorite book of mine from a long time ago is now going to be a movie–comes out this Friday:

and The Avett Brothers put out a new album. 

And finally the incessant moist heat of the summer is moving along on its merry little way.  Oh, and I’m taking my husband to see Florence + The Machine this Friday.  [This is as positive as it gets because sometimes.... I just hate myself and who wants to hear all of that...all of the time.]

Side note: In therapy I had an exercise to write down ONE thing, just ONE good, positive, okay, not too terrible thing that happened each day, so as to be able to say not everyday sucks.

Mentally:

Trying to figure out how and when all of my peers became superior.
Trying to figure out where I went wrong in life already and how to rectify it if at all possible. 
Wondering if other people imagine what life would be like had they settled it in with another. 
Wondering what my real purpose is and if I’ll ever find that out. 
Wondering if others still talk to old boyfriends and lost loves who they now claim as friends. 
Wondering if other people care as much as I do about people. 
Wondering if I’ll ever be satisfied with what I have, what I do, where I live, who I love. 
Wondering if I still care about others because I left them out of fear not for lack of love. 
Wondering if I simply wonder too much, past the point of any normalcy.  

Over the course of our lives we meet fork after fork in the selfish path that is our never ending trail to the “end.”

Are our mistakes truly mistakes or are they part of THE plan?

How do we know we aren’t in the middle of a “mistake” as part of our plan.

It truly is mind boggling to know if we are only at a mere stepping stone in our divine plan or if this is really it.

I hope this isn’t it for me.  

Sometimes I just get stuck in playback mode and can’t stop the overwhelming wistfulness.  I need to belong somewhere and I just cannot… no matter what.  Not here anyway.  Not now.  How do people move forward with their lives and well, not look back? 

In this fine world of making, maintaining, and breaking relationships, Xanga would have to be my best kept alliance–ever. 

The twenty-third of August in the year of our lord, 2002 , is when a fifteen year old,  carefree, dreamer, at times humorous, lover of life and spontaneity, daydreamer even, and a poet of sorts emerged out into the digital scene of projecting their reality as they knew it for any and all to come across and divulge upon.

In the imminent and inevitable end that we all shall face, what truly would go through our soulful minds in the face of our demise?

As far as death goes, I’ve never been a witness to a passing, never been strung along at a wavering bedside illness—Other than my grandmother’s currently drawn out decades long suicide from her incessant chain smoking.  The only loss of lives I have experienced are surprises and perhaps accidents. 

At the root of my personal experiences with death comes the most unbearable heartache a sixteen year old girl could encounter.  My very dear mother was taken from mortality at the hands of a ruthless murderer.  He subsequently shot himself immediately thereafter, bittersweet justice.  As the years carried on in my life, many people I knew, (some second-handedly), had left this world, through murder, car accidents, alcohol poisoning, heart attacks, overdose, cancer, epilepsy, and simply aging.  Religious or not, death is a hard creature to swallow.

As far as self-inflicted endings go, other than my bouts with depression and thinking how so simple it could be to just end it all in a flash and my mother’s killer, I have no experience with recognizing it, seeing it, or acknowledging it. 
Although I know that it is really, very real.  My favorite human being, Hunter S. Thompson, went out according to his own wishes.  Honestly, I’m just saying I don’t understand it.

The only person in the new town I moved to whom I would call a friend, despite not spending substantial amounts of time with, is going through the most unimaginable heart break at this very moment.  And in my actions I continue to carry on, business as usual, but on the inside I am as lost as could be.  Her fiance’, whom we now know, she was already secretly married to, ended his own life this past week.  I knew him mostly only in passing, or through endless stories from her.  Yet, just like that she is left on her own, all plans ended, all hope lost, all kinds of confusion, despair, worthlessness, and agony setting in.  

I frankly just don’t understand how no one saw any signs, how someone hurting so badly could never make a peep, or if it were spur of the moment, what could trigger such an abrupt ending to a life?  Maybe, we just aren’t supposed to understand, but it truly does make one think and consider where their own life is heading.

Where in the world is decency?
Where in the world is discreetness?
Where in the world are the (worthy) thought provoking individuals?
Who are you?  Why are you hiding?  Stop the insanity of it all.
When will all of the blatant outspoken outlandish fools shut it down?

Word vomit.  Try and keep it to yourself.

Daydreaming about how you all seem on the outside, compared to what I feel on the inside is pointless the doctor urged. Compare yourself to someone who is utterly and completely worse off than you think you are… Seems easy enough until you realize you can actually have the worse off, not what seems to be so enticing from the smiling masses.

And now 8 years have passed since I became motherless.

I’d say my progress is slow, but progress–is still progress.

Love you forever Mother, dear.