Every now and then I can put something together in writing, but it feels forced nowadays.
Sometimes it feels like I’m only using certain portions of my brain. For example, school is just repetition (the building block of learning) and regurgitation… and afterwards RETAINING the information. In professional school, so much informtation is obtained and required to be retained. So when it comes tome for my creative juices to flow, it is as if those juices are locked up in other chambers – being more useful elsewhere. When I finally get free time, those juices that WOULD be in my creativity chamber are soaked up by other things. And its like that for everything like the mind chamber of patience or the mind chamber of relaxation.
This metaphor works for the heart too.
I LOVE writing, but my love is being stretched this way and that-a-way.
Romantic love pulls left and love for good grades pulls right, and love for my family and wanting to be around them pulls upward, and love for sleep and laughter pulling downward, and love for miscellaneous pulling foward and all the slack thats left avaliable for the backward pulling creativity is slim to none.
Sometimes, I don’t mind. My heart is big enough to carry this burden.
If I fell to the clouds would they let me stay? Suspended above the land, above the people I would lay… its cold up here. Snowflakes on my window. Oh so unique. The flakes out there are like the flakes within me. I’m created from thoughts each one is contradicting. It may not make sense to you but to me its fitting. The hardest part is thinking in a sea of blank minds. What we search for always seems to be less than we find. That’s why if I fell to the clouds they’d reveal everything I never cared to know. Like how fast I’d fall or how far I’d go. So…… I think I’ll stay where I’m at. I’d rather not know the answers to questions I’ve never asked.
I didn’t want my experience to leave me, so I wrote it down.
I had somebody tell me that his favorite pictures of me were the ones that weren’t planned. The pictures of me when I wasn’t all dolled up and posing with my head tilted toward my “good side. ” The pictures I’d beg him to delete. The ones that made me uncomfortable. The moments captured without careful consideration of how perfect my hair was or how you couldn’t see the side of my nose because I’m self conscious about that. He said his favorite were the genuine pictures. The pictures that I delete when I feel they don’t meet my standards. He didn’t say it….and I never asked, but that’s how I knew he loved me.
I am emotional and attention seeking.
I am unreasonable and always fleeing.
I am irrational, moody, and I’m always worried about the wrong thing.
I am lacking confidence in us and to him it is constantly draining.
I am negative more than not and only see things my way.
I am displeased and you can tell it by the faces I display.
I am dramatic, torn and completely misguided.
I am opposing, immature, and frequently undecided.
To him, I am a crazy mess with each of these traits.
I am like a never-ending broken record… a system- no updates.
I’d like to be somebody worth showing unconditional love,
But with him that is something I will always fall short of.
I used to have this deep passion to write and express my feelings. It’s true that I do have a lot more on my plate now in graduate school than I did during my time as an undergraduate student, however, something is missing. I find myself spending my free time examining things that don’t need my attention. I find myself sleeping instead of daydreaming. I don’t want to live like this. I’m currently surrounded by some Soothe&Sleep bubbles (via Dr Teal’s Lavender Foaming Bath), and I have a glass of wine sitting on my bath pillow that I’m balancing with my knees because I don’t belive I truly trust the inflatable pillow (wine wasn’t meant to waste). I’m thinking I should spill some emotion on paper… or on here…like I used to. Although some people in my life say I’m too emotional… and that has sucked the passion from flowing out of my fingertips. I’m sad.