| march tenth, two thousand and two we tromped and stomped through the trees. not saying much, we listened to the crackle of long fallen leaves on the soil, sometimes glancing at the sky in hopes of catching one. the cold wind caught my ears, turning them pink to match my nose and fingers. how long have we been walking? no sun to pass the time with, only a bright gray sky. finally out of doors, I was free to be myself in moments not measured by time at all but rather movement. uphill and downhill we made our marks. breaking twigs with heavy boots and cracking ice with misplaced steps we cut a path. the silence broke occasionally with laughter or a question, both appreciated. I turned my head once to find a smiling face. I looked toward the ground once to see another pair of feet next to mine. we thought about growing old and gainind wisdom. will our minds never close? will our feet always wander? will our eyes always be curious? will our ears always enjoy simple sounds? yes. it was an easy way to think, when we were who we were then. it was the only way to think. to always appreciate was our wish and so it is and always shall be. such realizations are common on cold days in the woods. but these thoughts have been thought by others. they have been lived out by others. they have been devalued by others. but this feeling, it will always be mine and his. always a little hazy in the minds of others, a little silly in older eyes, but maybe understood by those never met. this scene always plays in my head when I hear a certain song. it has done this since...ever since I can remember. five years maybe since I heard it the first time. tonight I decided to write about it because I felt like telling a story. so many times I drive home, thinking of what to write, composing sentences in my head. I had it planned, words perfectly chosen, until I heard this song. simple it may seem, but not on a drive home like tonight. to others on the road, I was a teenager rushing home to make a curfew already broken. to my mother, I was a daughter with a bad sense of time. to me, I was a girl driving away from that which makes her know love. time passed slowly in the driver's seat, some of the short time left was wasted. as long as I have the memories though, any time is worth it. "seems like yesterday we were sixteen, we were the rebels of the rebel scene. we wore doc martens in the sun, drinking vintage cider having fun. we were, drinking vintage cider having fun. it wasn't often, that we'd fight at all. it wasn't often. it wasn't often, that we'd fight at all. it wasn't often. we wore doc martens in the snow, paint our toenails black and let our hair fall. what I am now is what I was then, I am not more acceptable than them. it wasn't often, that we'd fight at all. it wasn't often. it wasn't often, that we'd fight at all. it wasn't often. *** seems like yesterday we were sixteen, we were the rebels of the rebel scene." 3/11/02 don't take it personally. at times I am cold and heartless and think only of myself, this I know to be true. but how do I change? how do I force myself to smile when I can't even look up? that's all for tonight. march 12, 2002 racing home again, this time not to make a curfew or to beat traffic but to talk. usually referred to as a quiet person, I couldn't wait to talk this evening. how long has it been since I last saw him? three weeks maybe. ring ring ring my phone yelled at me...."hi mom, I'm on the highway." "hey boog," the voice on the other end said. it was Pops. hi Pops. and so I turned from the person I am perceived as (quiet, dull, uninteresting, lacking the most simple of personalities) to someone with a purpose. I have since learned about laying tile and brain trauma. an odd combination but nothing less could be expected from a man with so many names. 13.3.02 feeling very vanilla today. vanilla and contemplative. a bare window, so many people, roadkill, being able to ser una y carne, gifts, r's, ice skates, fake families, live and let live, and postcards all sparked my interest. so yes, in the intimidated state I am vanilla but on our own I feel differently. those words so hastily read but carefully written have stuck in my mind, presiding over every decision and imagine of the day. a precarious way to live my life, throwing everything back in search of approval and acceptance. ah, but there may not be any other way today they say hurray, go Pele. Pi day thinking today not of pi, or pie, but rather of life without and why he chooses to share his secret with me at red lights that aren't stopped at or in parking lots that aren't parked in. that tingle and that feeling in my head can't be described but words, as I do curse them so sometimes, can be all you need on a drive home with no lights. the somethin of march I like my little world. inside it's always the perfect temperature and smells of pure-fume. protected from the real world by layers of steel and glass and plastic and navy blue, I control everything. it saves me when it is extremely fuckin hot or fantastically freezing. it saves me when the sounds outside become too much or too quiet. I can go where I want and stay there until I grow weary. it is selflessly devoted to me, taking me everywhere and never asking for anything in return. I love you little blue seat with my bum print in it and I love you Monty. 03/17/02 schizo-phre-nia pronunciation: "skit-zo-fren-E-a" function: noun etymology: New Latin date: 1912 1: a psychotic disorder characterized by loss of contact with the environment, by noticeable deterioration in the level of functioning in everyday life, and by disintegration of personality expressed as disorder of feeling, thought (hallucinations and delusions) and conduct -- called also dementia praecox 2: contradictory or antagonistic qualities or attitudes <both parties have exhibited schizophrenia over the desired outcome -- Elizabeth Drew> just my cup of tea today. nine days until my birthday love-ly pronunciation: "luv-lE" function: adjective date: before 12th century 1: obsolete : lovable 2: delightful for beauty, harmony, or grace: attractive 3: grand, swell 4: eliciting love by moral or ideal worth still more from webster.com. when someone says to always find a better word, I like to try to. 3/23/02 oh my, my life is a bit disheveled at the moment. so many things I have yet to do, so many deadlines broken, so many people put off for no reason. so I am dedicating today to getting everything back in order...twenty four hours aren't enough though. priorities sierra priorities. they are a little mixed up recently. or maybe that is just how teenage life goes. what am I talking about...I'm talking about living in a jungle, sleeping in my car, ignoring those signs of extreme fatigue, alotting a certain amount of time for everyone but him, finally calmimg down and taking some time for myself and the people I see as chores. oh why do I see those people as something on my to do list? on the bottom of my to do list, the part that never gets done, the part that procrastination strangles. the people that I always wait for the end with. so life, prepare yourself to be turned upside down today. march 26, 2002 how does he walk backwards so easily when the clouds are so gray? |