Dance until the lights come on

Brightly colored paper

Lines the used and

Disregaurded dance floor

One celebration is as

Good as another

No point trying to stand out

Goodbye you said

Goodbye my love

One last look before

The tide comes in

Sail away my love

Sail away

Walking on Glass With Strings Attatched

How many times do I have to say I'm sorry?

How many times do I have to break down?

At what point do I say goodbye?

I think it's time you found the door.

Don't look back.

I don't need that from you.

Screaming so loud that I go silent.

I'll just sit on these steps and watch the puddles.

This is better for everyone involved.

Stepping off the edge into........

There's this place I go inside my head where I'm not socially awkward and overly sarcastic. Where I'm just the right amount of witty and can light up a room just by walking through the door.

I've never really understand how people do that. How do you become the center of attention just by sitting down? How is that not something you strive for?

Of course, in the place inside my head I'm also brilliant and fly through classes like they're a vacation. School has always been work to me, not that its hard but it's just one of those things thats necessary to survive. I wish I could be excited about my College Mathematics class....but instead it feel like I'm having to go sit in a penitentiary for an hour.

Why can't I just sit at home and listen to music while doodling on a piece of paper?

I also have a group of friends that other people envy, in this place I go to. We all love each other, we're all fantastically funny and unique. I'm grateful for the friends I do have. Maybe I'm just a solitary person by nature, which really I'm perfectly fine with most of the time. I spend too much time inside my own head to divide my attention between a lot of people.

Maybe I'm selfish, maybe I'm selfless. How do you figure something like that out? Does anyone actually go through a period of self discovery like they do on Judd Apatow movies? Is there ever a moment where you say "oh, thats what I'm destined to do." It's disappointing, but I don't think so.

Maybe it's best to just do what you can with what you have and be happy with that.

The Divorce

Lissy was a seven year old with pretty blond hair and dark brown eyes when she watched her daddy drive away for the last time. His fishing polls and ratty t-shirts packed into boxes.
She'd heard mommy crying as he walked out of the side door. Mommy spent a lot of time crying anymore. Ever since her baby brother had to go away.
Lissy knew what "divorce" meant, but she didn't know why it had to happen to her family. She remembered times when she'd gone to the park with mommy, or gone to the river with daddy. Happy times. But not anymore.
Lissy walked downstairs, holding onto the railing the whole way. Mommy sat on the floor in the kitchen staring at the cabinets. Maybe she saw shapes in the glass fronts just like Lissy did.
"Mommy?" Lissy said.
Mommy stared at the cabinets some more.
"Mommy, is daddy gone?"
Mommy nodded her head without looking. "He went away because he isn't happy."
"Is he coming back?" Lissy already knew the answer.
"No. No he isn't coming back."
Mommy stood up and walked over to Lissy. "Lissybeth you know how to make grilled cheese right?"
Lissy nodded her head, happy that she could do something so grown up.
"And you know how to make cereal for yourself?"
Again, Lissy nodded.
"You have plenty of clean clothes, and you know how to take a bath by yourself right?"
Lissy started to wonder if maybe she'd done something wrong. "Yes maam."
Mommy walked into the livingroom, again never looking at Lissy.
"Lissybeth you know how much I love your daddy don't you?"
"You used to call him your super hero."
"He still is Lissy. But I can't make him happy."
Lissy stood next to mommy and held her hand. "Maybe it was me, maybe I didn't make him happy."
Finally mommy glanced down at her. "No Lissybeth, it isn't you."
Mommy walked over to the desk in front of the big window. "Lissybeth, you know I can't live without your daddy don't you? I can't be alone."
Lissy stood where she was. "But you have me mommy."
"I know, but I can't do this without him." It sounded like mommy was far away. "Lissy, I want you to go up to your room now. Go up to your room and be a good girl."
Lissy automatically did what mommy asked, something she'd always been told to do. When she got to the stairs she looked back at mommy.
"I love you mommy."
Mommy looked at her. "I love you too Lissybeth."
Lissy had just closed the door to her room when she heard the loud POP.
She knew what that sound was, and she knew not to go downstairs.
And so Lissy did the only thing she could.
She crawled into her pink and white bed, and went to sleep.

Ravings of a Mad Woman

I think it's interesting how people are constantly wearing masks. Not literally masks, but they make they're face portray something other than what they actually feel.

I suppose most of this is due to the stigma that it is somehow unacceptable to be anything but stupidly happy all of the time. Does it mean there's something wrong with being sad or angry or disappointed?

I understand that it isn't exactly healthy to walk around feeling sorry for yourself every minute of everyday. And really I am not the person to tell anyone to talk about what is in the depths of they're psyche.

How many times have I been told that I never talk about myself, or when something is visibly wrong I tend to shut down and get angry if pushed too far.

I have never been a big fan of talking about feelings. It usually makes me feel stupid afterward.

But does this make me seem boring to those who don't know me? Does this preference to listen to others instead of myself make me seem dull?

There are times when I wish my brain would shut of for a while, just so I could spend an hour or so without over thinking everything. Over-analyzing is one of my specialties.

I've never been afraid of being alone, not lonely, but alone. There is a difference.

You can be alone and not be lonely, just as you can be lonely but never alone.

Being alone has never scared me. For the most part I do well by myself.

So what does that say about me?

Doorknobs and Candle Wax

There once was this girl.
And this girl had a red door.
Not a new door, but not an old one either.
But a well loved and well used red door.

Behind this red door she put all her memories, both good and bad.
She put all her sad thoughts.
They were all stacked in messy stacks with big blue signs on top.

After every memory she would choose the most interesting sign and stick the memory.
All the while this girl would smile and say that she had no regrets, no mistakes.
Because you see, this girl had convinced herself that if she couldn't see it then the hurt didn't exist.

But one day this girl opened the door and all of her memories were gone.
All her sad feelings were missing.
She slammed the red door and kicked at the wall.

It was the doors fault, it had failed her.
Because you see, instead of being locked behind a door they had all found they're way into her mind.
And so now, this girl I know, is looking for a new red door.

Mint Julips and Porch Swings

There are specific things I love about the South.

I love sitting outside at night, especially summer nights.

The air is so thick it feels like someone covered you with a wet sheet in the middle of a sauna.

People talk about how southern nights are quiet, but I find them anything but. The screech of frogs and cicadas filling the darkness.

June bugs and moths circling the glow of street lamps.

Lightening bugs dancing in yards.

And no matter where you are there are stars to be seen. And even if you're in the middle of a city it's rarely more than a 20 minute drive to the middle of nowhere.

The slowness of summertime is maybe my favorite, although a little hurry and rush is never a terrible thing.

These are some of the things I love most.

One foot out the door, one foot on the threshold.

Sad, melancholy, forlorn. Whatever you want to call it, that's what I am.

I can't explain why I feel that way. I just do.

There should be more than this. I should be more.

But how do you change something when you're not even sure what "it" is?

Talking about it isn't an option. Sympathy is and will not be tolerated.

To say I feel alone is an understatement.

But why am I not ok with that? Why do I need someone to pay attention?

Why should I care?

Saying I need something to change no longer helps.

Saying that I feel restless doesn't begin to cover it.

I need my turning point!

It's not that I want things to be better. I need them to be more.

I need myself to be more.

I want to be satisfied.

I want to be content.

Does that mean settling?

Does that mean becoming complacent?

Unhappiness has become part of my routine.

I need some shock and awe!

Something, dear God anything!

Jumping Ship and Riding Off Into the Sunset

I think after a while you get used to the fact that everyone has disappeared.......or maybe it's left.

You get used to your phone staying continuously silent.

Or, maybe it's just that you try to forget.

I'm not all that sure, I mean I've always been somewhat anti-social. But this has become a little bit sad. I honestly can't remember the last time I had anything to do but go to work or go home.

Now, I don't want sympathy. Seriously I really don't, the last thing I need is for a bunch of people to feel sorry for me. This is merely to put some thoughts down.

I think more than anything it's shitty. It's shitty of people to get so wrapped up in their own lives that no one else exists. Maybe I was raised differently, maybe friendship doesn't mean that you're willing to do anything for someone you care about. Maybe it just means that you're nice to someone because they're convenient.

It could also have something to do with me. Maybe I'm the reason that everyone keeps jumping ship. I apologize for my moodiness, for the fact that at times I can drop off the face of the earth. I'm sorry if I'm the one who isn't a very good friend. It is possible that I've just made myself think I was really great at being a friend.

Anyways, sorry for the whiny factor in this post. But I figured it was better than letting myself become more and more upset by crappy people.

The Heart Aches and Shakes

What is love?

Is it as the movie says? Never having to say your sorry?

I seriously doubt that.

I think love means having to say your sorry, and being comfortable in that knowledge.

But aside from that I'm not sure what it is.

It seems like almost everyone settles for the first person that will put up with them for an extended amount of time.

I think that is what scares me more than anything. I don't want to be with someone just because I'm afraid of being alone.

But do I really want to be alone? Yeah, there's a catch 22 for you.

And how do you know if you actually love someone? How do you know it's not going to fade after a few months? How do you know you're not going to sink into some kind of insanity and lose yourself?

This is what comes from thinking too much.

Valentine's Day is tomorrow.

Worst holiday ever. It makes everyone who is in a relationship feel great. And everyone who isn't feel like the red-headed stepchild with lepersy.

Every other day of the year I'm absolutely fine with not being part of a couple, but then Valentine's Day rolls around with it's stupid teddy bears, chocolate hearts and over the top flower arrangements, and suddenly I start looking around wondering "what is wrong with me? if these morons could find someone why can't I?"

And it's definitely the wrong time for anyone to tell me. "Well maybe you just have to wait a little longer for the right person."

Easy for you to say douche bag, you've been with the same person for a decade.

I wouldn't be surprised if the suicide rate sky rockets during this weekend.

Not even the Olympics can make me feel better.

Stupid commercial holiday.

Living on the Other End of the Tracks.

I've been in a state of hybernation for about a month now.

No, that's wrong. It's going on two months now.

Really, I suppose it's my fault. Something happened where I just wasn't happy anymore. With anything. Not my job, not my apartment, not my friends. And so like usual I just packed up and left.

If I look back over the last three years I've done that a lot. I always wondered why I've spend the majority of the time moving and the answer isn't that difficult to figure out. I've turned running away from my problems into an art.

And so now I'm living at home, with no job and not going to school.

Yeah, this is exactly where I wanted to be at 23 years old........

How did I get here. What chain of events led me to this, what could I have done? Am I really just that unproductive or lazy, or scared?

I'm willing to bet on the scared end of the stick.

There is something about asking for help that scares the crap out of me, always has. I'd rather not do something than run the risk of someone turning me down. Talk about shooting yourself in the foot.

I have all of these dreams and ambitions and hopes and desires and I can't make myself take the first step towards any of them.

I am my own worst enemy.

Lonely Times at the OK Corral.

This is my last week in my apartment. It's my last week in Little Rock.

And I can't honestly say I'm sad about it. I love my neighborhood and aside from some minor problems I really do like my apartment. But other than that I don't feel like I'm leaving anything that important.

This is mostly due to the fact that the past month has been hectic. And that is putting it lightly.

It's hard to make people understand that I'm not being distant on purpose, I don't intentionally try to keep people at arms length. I've had a lot of....well crap......to deal with. And for some odd reason no one seems to get that.

I am not a person prone to drama, I much prefer to sit back and watch everyone else scramble. But I hate being the person that others depend on for support and then when it comes time that I need a little bit of understanding everyone runs in the other direction. It hurts more than anything to be told in no uncertain terms that my friendship is just not needed anymore.

I'm sorry. I'm venting and I really shouldn't be. But why shouldn't I go home to my family and two of my absolute best friends that I know will be there no matter what happens? Maybe it's something to do with the time of year, but it sucks when you find out that something you thought was so important and held so dear turns out to be a figment of your imagination.

Whoville and the Polar Express

December.

Probably my favorite month all year long, even more so than my birthday month. I love everything about Christmas......except for the whole working in retail thing. I love the cold weather, I love the Christmas lights, the decorations on houses, I love stockings and Christmas cookies, and searching for better Christmas songs. It's a time of year that I always look forward too and always feel sad when it hits December 26.

It makes me sad when I meet people who hate the holidays. I can understand hating how people turn into lunatics and fight over a nose hairtrimmer just because it's 15$ cheaper. But to me, and maybe this is the cheesiest thing I've ever said, Christmas is about being with your family; whether they're biological or people you've acquired over the years. Who cares about presents? Just give me the whole day to sit around in my jammies eating cinnamon buns and drinking hot cocoa.

Now that I've made everybody throw up just a little I'll move on.

The last two weeks have been absolutely insane. I've gone from doing the same thing day in and day out to leaving my job and moving home. I'm sure my sister is just ecstatic........the sarcasm should be oozing down your computer screen right about now. But I'm really not that upset about it. It could actually be kind of nice to be back home for a while. For some reason I'm never completely comfortable like I am there. I suppose it has something to do with me continuously thinking of it as "home".

I've decided not to go back to school for now. I know, I know it's a tragedy. But I have got to get my shit together, I need to figure out who I am and where I want to go, and I'm not going to do that if I'm constantly stressed out about classes. So, I'm getting a full time job that provides health care, a necessity, and moving home so I can save up money and hopefully get a place by myself.

So.....cheers everyone! And have a merry and beautiful Christmas.

Windy Cities and Dinner Plates

So tomorrow is Thanksgiving. And whereas I'm exciting to spend the day with my family and being engrossed in our insanity, but on the other hand working in retail and having to deal with Black Friday kind of puts a damper on the holiday. It's like everyone else gets to go out and have a great long weekend, but for those of us enslaved to corporate clothing and electronic stores its the day from hell. I don't care what any manager says, working the day after Thanksgiving is worse than getting a root canal.

I've been having an issue with moods lately. One minute I want to be around people and be social, and then ten minutes later I've turned my phone off and curled up in bed to read. I don't think I'm depressed and I know being slightly anti-social is one of the things I'm known for....but it's starting to get on my nerves.

Maybe part of it is my deep want for someone to rely on. Yes, yes I love my friends and my family is wonderful blah, blah, blah. But how nice would it be to know there was a name in your phone that no matter what was going on would pick up and genuinely listen.

Somehow I always end up talking about my love life....or lack thereof. It's not that I'm lonely, I'm moderately happy with the way things are. That isn't to say that I wouldn't mind if something changed. I feel like I'm on the edge of something. I don't know if it's bad or good, but I can almost feel it. I just wish someone would tell me that its ok to jump, or its ok to step back.

Headlights and Dashboards

So I have a hard time communicating.
It's something I've been told and it's something I've noticed.
Because of my disposition it is often mistaken for fridged and passive aggressive when in reality the thoughts that are running through my head are often unable to make their way out.
So if you don't feel like reading any further feel free to go do something else.
This is mostly for myself.

I'm largely misunderstood......well that just sounds like the lyric to a bad 90's pop song.
I think for the most part people have a difficult time understanding me. But how can they be expected to when I have a difficult time understanding myself?
I am an introvert in every sense of the word. I'm not shy, but I just don't see the point in talking to someone until I've decided that I want to talk to them. I'd much rather stay home and read given the choice. I am much more comfortable in smaller groups than at huge parties where I don't know half the people in the room; I tend to feel claustrophobic and panicky. Above all, I am not a mean person, but it is difficult for me to show affection; I don't think its something I necessarily have to work on. I have to know someone for what I feel is an adequate amount of time before I let that barrier down.

And while we're on the subject of barriers. I don't want to say I've had the worst luck with relationships, maybe some of the most odd luck. I realize I'm probably too picky but when it comes right down to it all I really want is someone who truly likes me. Someone who wants to be with me and genuinely understands me. I just want a guy who actually wants to be my boyfriend, not a guy who has more emotional baggage than a French diplomats wife.....I have to put a great deal of energy into fixing me, I can't fix him too.

Let The Wild Rumpus Start!

Its been a month since I was on here last.
No wonder no one reads this.

Should I make something up, and say I 've been super crazy busy for a whole month?
Too bad it isn't really true.

I work all the time now, to the point where a day off is like a vacation.
I realize that grown ups all over the world do this for a living, hold down a regular job that is.
But all I've ever known are 4-5 hours shifts that plop right in the middle of my day.
Now I'm working steady hours and can actually pay my bills without it taking up my whole paycheck. So what if that only leaves 20$ for the rest of the week.

I have this overwhelming feeling that I'm boring.
I'll be sitting in a room with someone and that person will be talking about something that I think is genuinely interesting, and in my head all kinds of thoughts are racing. But I never say anything.
It's like there's a wall between my mind and my mouth.
For some reason I just can't make myself say something to carry on the conversation.
It could be that I'm just bored, or maybe it's that I can't seem to put into words the fact that just being around someone else is good enough. I don't feel the compulsion to talk all the time. I'm a quiet person by nature, sometimes I wish I could change this. But unless I've had one too many or I'm in an uncharacteristically good mood I'm not going to jabber for thirty minutes about my day.
I get it from my dad.

I've also decided that I'm going to be Max from Where the Wild Things Are for Halloween.
It is by far my favorite children's book.
I realize that every other human on Planet Earth would say the same thing, but it was the first book I remember reading by myself.
And I love that instead of throwing a temper tantrum when he's sent to his room Max uses his imagination and runs away.
Oh Maurice Sendak. Thank you for dreaming up a little boy in footie pajamas.

Stare at a Wall, See if it Will Move

There's this girl, and she sits at a computer.
She stares out the window a lot while twirling her hair.
She's always thinking and wishing and hoping and dreaming and scheming.
Waiting.
Waiting for something bigger and better to whisk her away.
People tell her things will change.
That one day she'll wake up and she won't recognize herself.

This girl I know?
She doesn't believe a word of it.
So she sits and she looks out the window.
She wonders what it would be like to pack a bag.
Throw a few shirts a pair of jeans and a pair of shoes into a backpack.
Take that backpack and never come back.
But this girl, she knows something she won't say out loud.
She's landlocked.

Landlocked by the walls, and the car, and the people and the job.
And by herself.
Yeah, mostly by herself.
So she sits and she looks out the window.
Her head has never been swimmy with love.
Her life has never been chaotic.
She's never disappeared.

So the girl, the one that I know?
She just stares out the window.
While sitting in front of her computer.
And twirls her hair.

Window Washers and Part-time Gardeners

Apparently my writings are slightly melodramatic. I don't mean for them to be. But I find that if I'm going to spend the time to put something on here it's usually because I've got something on my mind. Not because I'm wanting to talk about how my day went.
I've been re-reading my old journals, and I realized that my writings go one of two ways: hugely dramatic or incredibly boring. There's not a lot of middle ground. Again, I don't mean for them to be like that.
Random Thoughts:
My roommate just killed a huge bug in our bathroom, all I heard was her shriek and then three loud thuds.
I'm starting to get bored with the way my room looks.
I am very, very, very bad at any kind of relationship-type stuff.
I am also a touch neurotic.
I feel like I should be more interesting, or that I'm just not interesting at all.
I'm not as mean as people say I am.
When do you stop feeling like a little kid in an aging body?

Auditory Confetti

Its not often that I fall instantaneously in love.
But I have.
I have fallen in love with IO Echo.
I heard them on a commercial for some phone, I don't know which one.
They're awesome. Believe it.

If you've ever been apart of unrequited love.
Meaning: You like someone more than they like you, or they don't even know that you have feelings for them.
Listen to IO Echo's song "Doorway"
A-W-E-S-O-M-E
It's exactly what goes through your head when your not sure if your crazy or if the other person is just an asshole.

IO Echo.
"Doorway"

Do it.