I’ve been having a very hard time trying to get inspired enough to write tonight. I almost went so far as to say D is for defeat. And post, “This Mama is too tired to blog tonight.” But I felt like that was pretty cheap, despite being clever. So instead I ping ponged a few ideas around in my head for a bit, until I settled on this one.
Background: Ever since 2007, high school for me, I’ve been keeping composition books. They aren’t actually diaries in the fact that they are literally catch-alls. Anything from class notes, to poetry to random mind dumps, to psycho babbles when times got too tough… these journals hold everything. I doodled, collaged, wrote and cried all over these things. It’s pretty much my life in journal format. I used to have a crazy dream about publishing them someday (I say crazy, cauz who wants the whole world to know their most personal side of them ever?), and I guess this is about as close as it gets. I will post a picture of each comp book, with a little taste of something I wrote in it. I will keep it mostly moderated, but my life has had some dark corners and bad decisions, so it’s not all rainbows and butterflies.(♪it’s compromise that moves us along.♪ Sorry couldn’t resist, it led into that song so well.) Here is a glimpse into who I was, who I am, and who I am becoming.
Journal one: started on Feb. 12, 2007.
King of Hearts and
Queen of Spades
Against preplanned destiny.
Expected to align
Follow the design.
Hearts with hearts,
Spades with spades.
No other way allowed.
Disobedience is not an option.
Afterall, how do you fight
A well known and expected
What to do with
A Queen of Spades and
A King of Hearts
Journal two: started on June 25, 2007
A quote from Echo by Francesca Lia Block
“And here I am poised above with my arms spread flying and there are halos of light spinning out of us and yes this is me becoming holy human and my own self”
Journal three: started on Oct. 29, 2007
Hugs. Put back together again. Bunched up in your arms, all the pieces. Taped, glues, licked and stuck back together. But the fragments remain. Little delicate lines racing up and down my body. So I’m not really a whole…. simply many pieces clinging onto one another. I’m afraid that once you let go I’ll fall back apart. Love is the adhesive but YOU are theb race. Hold me. (Together) and never let me go.
Journal four: started on July 10, 2008
Cobwebs inhabit my mind. But they’re not a sign of disuse. Rather they’re my clever plan. You see, the sticky thread catches tidbits as they flow past. I notice things. Things others don’t. In class, I seem quiet and shy but really I am observing. I listen to conversations, assess body language and looks. I see people before they are noticed. Once the fight starts, people are watching, wanting to know the cause. But I was watching before. I saw the arguments, accusations and the first shove. I pay attention. Now I am not claiming to be someone who knows exactly what is going on around me. Some tidbits don’t quite stick right. Or sometimes they even flow right past the traps I’ve set. Often times I fail to see the big details, so focused I am on the small. And this can create a problem. Too many things have crowded up my webs, that more and more are escaping. I think maybe it is time to install some dream catchers to back up the spider webs. Seems like a good plan, but what would I catch then?
Journal five: started on May 27, 2009
I want to be someone’s everything… But right now I think I’d settle for being someone’s anything. Because… I’m scared that it won’t feel the same. I’ll never feel as good as he made me feel at one point. I’m scared that no one will ever love me that much ever again. Ever.
Journal six: started on November 10, 2009
♪Spinning round, spinning round, I’m falling down♪
Life won’t stand still. I keep moving. Spinning round and round. Till I’m dizzy. Till I wanna puke. And then it spins faster. So fast I can’t even puke. And I’m stuck with the awfulness inside me. Going so fast I can’t focus on anything. I can’t see straight.
Journal seven: started on May 10, 2010
I feel like I a munderwater sometimes. Like I am moving so slow. Under so much pressure. And I am looking up. The rest of the world is so blurry from the waves. But it’s moving normal speed. Except it seems so much faster. And I try and try so hard to get to that surface. To everyone else… but my hand keeps reaching without ever breaking out. I’m suffocating. Drowning. And I can see the air. See my safety… I just can’t reach it. I think I’m running outta time.
♪There’s no comfort in the truth♪
Journal eight: started on Sept. 27, 2011
I love how Josh and I write notes back and forth on the fridge with our alphabet magnets.
Journal 9: started on May 9, 2013 (still ongoing)
Breathing you in
Your fingers on my skin
in my daydreaming
Those eyes so blue
I could drown in them
A peaceful, serene
sort of relaxing.