judas-tree vs. the willow
Her posture is adopted from the arbor,
arms akimbo with fingers splayed
against her waist like leaves
soft and supple. She laughs,
aesthetically stating she is the antithesis
of my descriptions,
my insistence of grace.
I wait:
the seasons change.
I am November, damp and brackish
no longer sedate. She starts singing
that it's not as glamorous
as I thought it would be -
this scythed state; to amputate
interlocked boughs and limbs
in the malaise makes me wish for spring.
i've been told i've been too silent recently
The ambiguity of words never fails to amaze me. For example, the definition of what a "date" is seems to be too fluid. I think there should be some ground rules as to what exactly is considered a "date" - I've learned throughout my extensive travels that West Texas has a definitive culture and there is a set ritual to courting and/or wooing (and one that I am partial to at that; I can be surprisingly traditional despite all of my seemly quirks). However, I find the entire "what the hell are we to each other, exactly?" phase annoying and seek to eliminate it as soon as a specific level of compatibility and mutual interest has been reached. This is colloquially referred to as the "DTR" by my generation. I just call it being freakin' practical. I think that a level of unabashed honesty is appreciated in a realm where the coy, flirtatious, and frustratingly coquettish is the norm. This, of course, requires a specific amount of courage and generally readying oneself for the possibility of falling flat on one's face. And for some strange, cosmic reason, there is always a period of second guessing no matter HOW overt the signs are from your object of interest. There's the entire "well maybe I'm reading too much into this could he/she possibly really likemeomgwejusthuggedanditlastedforlongerthanthreeseconds HAHAHA I WIN!!!11!1!!!......................I dunno. Maybe he/she just sees us as friends" inner monologue that can possibly destroy any sense of sanity a person has managed to retain throughout this entire process. Friends, if consulted, generally sigh at this point and rub their head in frustration.
Yep.
I've decided that all of the above applies to everyone - regardless of gender or age. Fact.
It's also very easily avoidable, I've decided, if words or phrases weren't so equivocal. "We should go get something to eat sometime soon" vs. "Hey, I'd like to take you out to dinner this weekend" - see how easy that is? To further break it down, the first sentence is basically saying "I'd be partial to the idea of you and I maybe going out for a nondescript meal at a vague point in the future" opposed to "I am going to pick you up and pay for dinner THIS weekend." People in these types of situations are THE most afraid of being misunderstood or misread, yet the simple act of communication is lost in this comical jumble of vague wording.
I fall 100% completely into this category as well. I am poking fun at myself and my ability to almost spill coffee on myself or fall at the most inopportune times or for the times I fiddle with my jewelry so much that I break the clasp on my necklace or my ever present vague wording until my level of honesty gets the best of me and it comes forth like most things with me usually do (good or bad). I amuse and am amused by not only those around me but by myself.
Things worked out really well this time. I'm very happy and everyone knows why, which in itself makes me happy too.
this is a mundane test
I got that new super sexy Droid phone and am posting from it because it's awesome like that. This is really a test and bragging combined.
My week and weekend were fantastic and I hope yours was as well.
oh. no.
I sometimes just don't know. This is neither a good or bad thing, this not knowing. It's just a state of being in between. While I undoubtedly find it frustrating, I have to trust that there is a plan. There is a purpose and a point to the waiting. I have a definitive path that I am on and while I am not sure exactly what happens along the way, at least my end destination is clear. Because it is. Of this I have no doubt.
I was having a conversation with friends about the here and now (sort of). It was a conversation pertaining to religion and theology, specifically, but I think I can broaden the scope of the points made to fit the secular. The argument was that previous generations were more concerned with the future - the when, the where, and the how of events and what needed to be accomplished to reach that end goal. My generation, specifically, is mostly concerned with today - the instant, the relevant, the present time. There are a couple of reasons why that may be; I think that maybe on one end it's a result of easy access to information. Being constantly and pervasively informed of current events has a tendency to effect your scope of thinking to the present. I also think a direct byproduct of this media saturation is that my generation as a whole is vastly more cynical than those that have come before us. We are told a multitude of things in a multitude of different ways and each way has been structured to appeal to us on an individual and selfish level - by experiencing this over and over, we immediately doubt the motivations behind each and every appeal made to us. This is the case with politics, with consumerism, and yes, with religion. We are told that this will be good for us, this will make us more appealing, this will make us happier and most often it does not. My generation is that of the fast food, the 48 hour detox diet, the purity ring. Each is presented as a fad and easily dismissed with the next New Thing. It makes us tired, and when the New Thing comes along, we may fall for it a time or two, but honestly we're more apt to dismiss it as an advertisement than as something that may really potentially hold some truth.
I am concerned with the now. Specifically and spiritually, I am fixated on living for the day - I am not concerned with eschatology or discussing the euthanasia of morality in the unknowable distant future. Contemplating this, while it makes for an interesting and sometimes fun conversation, does nothing for me today. As it as been so eloquently stated by my church, my goal is to experience life and experience all that my God has to offer me abundantly. It's not my purpose to debate the unknowable and convoluted details about the future. I know the end result. Why can that not be enough? And why, accepting that my purpose is to live specifically for today without worrying about tomorrow (Matthew 6:34), is that questioned as an anomaly of my generation?
I segued from secular to spiritual here. Sorry about that. I was trying to keep it broad but 'eh.
To go back to the original point, this current generation has been accused of having a transitory nature. I'll have to disagree and argue that we're fortunate enough to be presented with a larger amount of knowledge than previous generations, and as such we are more selective about how and what we believe. Things we find genuine are much more likely to make an impact in our day to day lives because we've selected them to be real out of a multitude of options. And I refuse all of the above to be a negative or a point of contention. I am happy with the way I am in my day to day operations and am, out of everything presented to me, secure in my end result. I don't know the why or the how I'll get there. But I know I'll get there. And that is enough for me.
It's time for bed now.
open along edge, plz
I had a pretty awesome weekend.
My stomach really really hurts on my one day to not have to study or work. Grrrrr.
I'm learning how to spin and dye my own yarn soon, within the next two months or so. I have too much on my plate at the moment to pick up this particular new hobby as quickly as I'd like but I am, as always, exceedingly excited. I refuse to be bad at this craft as well. I went shopping today at thrift stores to see if I could pick up some recycled yarn as well or old sweaters to unravel and reuse the thread. I've lately been into the thought of becoming more personal and intimate with the craft of knitting. It's cool to make something for someone, sure, but I think it may be even cooler to have made the yarn that you made it out of be handspun and dyed and/or personally modified to make unique. I'll stop here before I start to sound sickeningly hipster.
My typical artist optimism cup overfloweth.
This small bit of insight to my life is being cut short by the pervasive pain in my abdomen. I'm going to go lay down now.
remember, remember the 5th of november
I am low on time today and cold.
I bought my Tegan & Sara tickets - February is a long time off in the distance but I am already looking forward to the impending road trip; I am often fond of leaving town that time of the year and I have an exceptionally good excuse this time around to leave it and traverse across Texas with some exceptionally good people.
Someone managed to make me mad within the first 10 minutes of me being awake earlier this morning; outside of me being called into work back when I was employed at the mental institution after attempting to sleep off an 18 hour shift, this may be a new record. I blame social networking for the ease at which extremely casual acquaintances of mine can be judgmental asshats in passing.
I have a temper to rival the force of Krakatoa. It may (or may not be, depending on how long you've known me) surprising to know that my immediate base reaction to things that make me mad or upset me is to start breaking things. Of course, I have not done this since my very early twenties. Self-control has set in under a thin veneer of maturity I've managed to build up over time.
I don't get mad easily, actually. It takes a lot to make me mad, if we're being completely honest - I can think of very specific moments in the history of me where I have sat in calm silence while all that life was proceeded to deteriorate around me at an alarming speed. There are a few quick triggers though. Being unreasonably hateful to perfectly nice people is one way to do it. My father refusing to admit that he's wrong OR say that he's sorry and becoming an even larger and angrier jerk to compensate for it when he actually does realize he's wrong is another (I have a very good relationship with my dad, by the way - but after a lifetime of this one particular juvenile quirk of his, it starts to get old). The third and probably most personal is assuming things about me - I think I touched on this earlier as a fear of mine, but at the root of it, I think I just get really pissed off when people heap their own concept of reason or meaning on me and then try to paint reality with their own brand of logic to make their reasoning rationale. In short, self-righteous "I know what is right and you are completely wrong" people make me mad. Really really freakin' mad.
Guy Fawkes day is a wonderfully violent holiday. How appropriate for this morning.
this is a recap of life
And I think if I could just get her to take half of my sandwich, it would be okay.
She mutters that she’s not hungry and suddenly neither am I. I have this tendency to equate mundane instances like this one to huge emotional connections. If she would just take half of my damn sandwich, then I’d know she wasn’t mad at me anymore. I’d know things would be okay.
But she doesn’t, and I didn’t figure she would, and I find myself at a loss of both appetite and words.











