What am I going to do? When will I stop questioning everything and take action? Is my questioning nessacary for my understanding of the action I want to take? If not me then who... Me feeling overwhelmed is not going to change anything. I just listened to a story about how women planted billions of trees in Africa...When am I going to start planting?

I walked through a maze once and it was so surreal I can, now, only remember it as a dream.

I think I may have brought a puppy home once, that puked on my lap and was immediatly taken back to the farm we had rescued it from.

I may have been stuck in an elevator with my dad and his brother, but they say they don't remember...

Did my dad really snore so loudly it shook the house or was it something else?

When I was still in elementry school I would swear to people, up and down, that I once closed my eyes at night only to wake to the sun a second later.

Was there actually a big dinosour that I went to on a school trip...it looked like the largest slide in the world.

When I smelled weed for the first time, I recognized it immediatly as the smell that permeated my dads room on the bad days.

Katie and I made a trip across a dark feild to a two level shed, I think, and the dolls that were perched on the stairs looked like monsters waiting for a meal.

We finally had our talk...

And it reminded me of rainy days in the summer. A relief from the heat.

So what will I breathe in next...

And who's body will I finally posess.

I'm ready for red sunstreaks...

And the quite sound the ocean makes when muffled by a window...

Who are you?

There once was this fish named burt. His name wasn't really burt, it was ernie, but he prefered to be called burt because it sounded more manly. One day burt decided to go out to eat. There was this really great joint around his rock called the pond de yummy. So he went out with five scales, which was a lot of money in his time, to get the yummy special. When he got to the food joint he gave the guy at the water plant gate his five dollars and entered a world of yummy grubs. One particularly fat grub caught his attention and he decided to catch it instead of the yummy special. He swam towards it slowly avoiding the other fish dodging about. It glimmered in the sun and looked delicious, he had never seen such a good looking yummy before. In time, he was close enough to it that he could dart out and grab it with reasonable ease, so he did, and just as he was clamping down he noticed a peice of silver sticking out of the side of the yummy grub. But he notice to late and before he kew it he was being pulled out if the water by the hook that had been hidden inside his precious food. Before he got pulled all the way up he yelled down to the other fish, "the fishers have found our site! The fishers have found us," and then he was in the air dying.

"Looks like we found us a good one." "Yeah he's big alright!" The fish in Jim's hands was flapping around and struggling like there was no tommorow, well, actually there wasn't for the fish, but..."Boy he sure can move!" Good eaten tonight, thought Jim's fishing buddy Ralph...good eatin' tonight.

Burt splashed about wishing he had never gone out to eat. His mother had warned him of going into other parts of the water and he had ignored her like all good, young fish should. But now, as struggling became more and more difficult, he could see her kind face and began to cry, his mouth opening up and shutting. The men in the boat were making loud noises that scared burt and he treid to stop moving about. He stopped struggling, he stoped fighting, he stoped crying, he stopped living and then darkness.

"Wait 'till Rita sees this baby!" Yelled Jim, "You just wait!"

I'm gonna write just wait...

Being on campus is intense. When I compare it with home, SUA kind of feels like a weight tied around my ankle, slowly dragging me to the bottom of the ocean...water rushing into my ears, pressure making my heart beat faster, then slower...and slower...and slower...

Embracing the relationships and things that happen to me is my true challenge, because sometimes I jut want to run the other way screaming.."I can't do this!"

You know when there is something that you have to do and you are putting it off and it follows you where ever you go...he's that something. I thought, 'I can just ignore the talk we should be having.'

I had this epiphany the other day that I don't like him any more, but if that's true why do I still get nervous when I know I'm going to see him...why? And where oh where has all my courage gone? Oh, where, oh where could it be?

Independence and structure and the pursuit of happiness are quite lonley endevors. they are...it's true

It has beguneth. And my cup runeth over with anticipation of the pain that will surley ensue. Can you belive, I did homework tonight. La..La..La.

Something I wrote while I was at home:

It’s true; I don’t know what’s going on. Maybe I don’t want to know. Who am I? Am I really who I am? I want to write. The thoughts in my head want to escape. Me is screaming, articulate!!! For God sake articulate! But it’s not working, and the same thing constantly goes round. I’m lonely.


My grandma was married four times, 20, 26, 40, and 45. Sometimes I think she’s looking down on me steering me in the right direction…but then, I realize she’s probably moved on, maybe she’s one of those kids at the Wal-Mart in Aliso Viejo, a really whiney one.


My adventures in love are at a whopping zero. I’m losing the game, which is interesting because the game is all I think about. I’m spiraling and the end has touched me, looked me straight in the eyes…and what will meet me there. Will I have to wear diapers, and think, that’s only fifty years from now? Will I live in a home for the old, the food made by moms who just want to go home, my neighbors so close to death they dream it every night? What stories will I have to tell then…over and over, will I have to say I never had anybody? Will tears run down my cheeks splashing my newly wrinkled hands as I groan to the young visitor in the room about my wasted, lonely life?
And, really, I need the answer. Is romantic love, all I’ve built it up to be? Is this yanking on my heart because love is a necessity? How come it makes people cry? And write songs and live their lives in constant desire. I’m missing out on something and, recently, I’ve even contemplated online dating. Ok, loser! Something has to change. I’ve been saying that for eight years now, but it’s true, something really needs to give. I have so much love bottled up inside the first will be blown away, right out of the water they will be so loved. I heard not so long ago that each person has thee great loves. The first you will never forget. The first is all cuddles and kisses, dreams and promises that will surely be broken. Separation occurs when the two grow apart, begin to think differently, begin to want different things…
The second is the one you go through all of the shit with. Fights, Broken glasses, bills that aren’t being paid, debt, with the second you learn…you learn about what you want in life, you learn about what you want in love and then you get the hell away from each other before a murder occurs.
The third, and your final, is your soul mate. You marry, and if you’re lucky, you rock in comfortable chairs together when you’re old, death the separator, death the end.
Where is my first? Where are my promises and mutual dreams? I don’t want to be alone anymore. I don’t want to wonder. I don’t want to hear about everyone else’s problems with love and have no experiences of my own to share. My wisdom will someday be useless. I don’t want wisdom to rule my life. I want action to be in the drivers seat. I don’t know how to do this…I just don’t …I…

Being back at school is kind of like floating through a dream. No one seems real. In my mind I haven't left portland yet and I don't want to.

Andy, my uncle and I rolled up to SUA and all I could think was this has to be a dream...it has to. I couldn't wake up this morning, because I knew if I did I would be back at SUA, in my SUA bed, all alone.

I miss my Suitee and my friends. Non of them are here quite yet and I don't know what to do. I have no work and no one to hang out with so, now what? do do do....

I guess I'll just hold my breath until tommorow when the work will begin.

I feel better just knowing I'm about to give you my heart...real this time, like homemade ice cream.

29 things are smacking me over the head. Only one, home, will be smacking as I fly this Friday.

Should I do it before I go?

I'm scared to do what I have to do. Sending you that email made my hand shake. But it's done, I can't take it back...now we will really talk.

He sat across from me and nothing was communicated. I think, to him, I am like the furniture. Movable, meaningless, fabric.

And at that moment I hated him, more then anyone on campus and it made me want to cry.

I will later.

I'll wait.

We don't talk, we avoid.

It's true, It's almost over.

I am...

Mutable like water.

There are pennies in the fountain by founders hall. They don't really bother me, just make me wonder why.

Why do we make these unrealistic wishes.

The wishes on first stars, on rusty pennies that I could have used, on comets...Love, respect, a new life, all my efforts were fruitless.

...so tired.

Beaten

Appretiative

What's going on and how come I'm out if the loop.

My life is passing me by and I'm watchimg with a half smile on my face...wishing I could stop it, and remake it.

A life make over.

But first...there are all of these things I have to resolve.

I have to get better, I have to run away, I have to figure out what I want in this life.

The excuses are abundant. They're bigger then my desires to change and they always win.

If I could just will them to lose. If I could just will them away.

If I could change, god damn, if only I could change.

I want to yell at you and tell you how insinsitive you are. I want to put up a good fight and at least be able to say that I tried. But instead I let you tell me that this...disapointment...would lead to my finding the person of my dreams. Bullshit and you knew it. Well, now it's getting harder and harder for me to look you in th eyes. I don't want to be kind to you and tell you what you want to hear. No... I want to slap you across the face and remined you that I still exsist and I feel the exact same way I did on that day I gave you my soul and you gave it right back. I want to cry to you about how much you are loved, and how easy it is to love you every second, how painful. Why do you insit on pursuing this dream, why am I doing the same thing...target, you. You are the source, of what? My discomfort, my happiness, my sickness. Please, if you care about my saftey, tell me how much you hate me. Talk about how we can't be friends anymore because I don't have perfect hair. If you care for me give me a reason to hate you other then the one I already harbor, my unceasing love.

I can feel myself slowly losing it. I don't think I can walk past him one more time without going off about his ignorance of my love.

I don't think I can type one more word for a class, without shouting to the gods that my heart has more to say.

Keep ignoring me and you'll see the breakdown of a human being.

It will be slow, first I will cry, then I will scream, and then I will go mad blubbering about my sensitivity to the light.

If I could explode my feelings into the atmosphere, people would be knocked clear to the end of the universe.

If I let what is inside of me make it's appearance I'm sure it would resemble the moaning and suffering of the world.

I type, to let it out slowly. Drip. But it could gush, oh, could it, and flood this whole campus. My rage, my sadness swirling around my body. I would stealthaly walk to your door, open it and "away we go." The words I've always wanted to say bursting through m lips, blinding you, they're so intense. Get your sunglasses it's time to ride.

My life flashed today and it was good. Sometimes being sick feels better then being well because the inside is making it's appearence.

This boy walked in front of me for two seconds and I could see that he was a stunning beauty.

I've never been good at hiding how I feel, I must cultivate that skill, so that you won't be able to see the love shining on my face every time we pass.

Walmart is definately a downer.

I'm going to Costa Rica When?:O

I feel yellow. Hazy. Fog on glass after a hot shower. Gauze, lace, a veil.

Friday the thirteenth. This day has been an interesting phenomenon in my life. Every Friday the thirteenth I have wished and wished that something exciting would happen. Fall in love, Make out, Make love. But never have I had an interesting one. Tommorow, maybe, will be different.

I have to tell me about the dream I had. I walked away from you angry and hurt because you choose to go. But for a minute while I held you, for a minute when I told you to tell the truth, you paused and contemplated it. There was nothing for me to think about, personally, and because it was up to you I ended up crying. Some people can't see what's right in front of thier face.

How can you be so cruel? And what's more, how come you can't see how much you hurt my heart? She is beautiful isn't she? She is the epidemy of what it means to be feminan, it's interesting how I can't even spell that word. Well I'll just keep on, and you can just keep on, but I won't stop caring. You were so awkward when you asked me. Why were you akward? I would go anywhere with you, and it's evident that I scare the life out of you. And it's evident that I just can't shrink anymore. I won't. I am not going to shrink from anyone anymore. No one is better, no one is happier, no one is smarter. We are all doing the best we can. I just want to love myself and you...no more comaprisons, no more compromises, no more pain...at least for now.

I'm driving in my car made of clouds down a path that is so foggy. The windshield wipers are doing thier best to move the air so I can see. Big trees that look like bodies remind my of my smallness of my insecurities of all of the mistakes. Trees don't make mistakes. Sometimes it's hard to care that I just ran over a rabbit in the road. It's increadibly tempting, the cliff that hangs to my right. Down, Down I could fall. There are people on the side of the road, they have tears in thier eyes. Some of them are smiling and some sobing and they all look at me as if I have an answer for them. I yell out the window, "Respect!" and keep driving, this makes thier tears come faster. My tears are mixed with sweet rain and thunder, lightning is a possibility and I will it to come zipping through my heart in order that I can finally live. But this road seems endless and the chance of lightning dim. And for the life of me I can't see more then 10 feet on either side.

This is about my life and how it feels dead.

This is about how I can't just, "work it out," because there's no one out there to say "I love you to."

This is about how there dosen't seem to be a sollution and this is about how I can't resolve things with an imaginary dream.

This is about how I lay down at night unsatisfied and untouched and barren as the desert.

This is about the Zoo lights and my dad pretending to be cool, and my embaressment but mostly my admiration.

This is about how my admiration turns into black jealousy and I can't see a damn thing.

This is about my hair and my feet, my hands and my sweat.

This is about all of those boys who called me ugly and hairy...they broke my spirit.

This is about the cracks that are still making it hard for my heart to pump.

This is about how Katie and I used to do the spider on the swing, and sit on the same toilet...I wasn't cool enough for her eventually.

This is about how we are all just trying to make it in the world...and this is about what the television says we should be.

This is about my first relaxer and the denial of my heritage. You can never understand how I don't even know who I am.

This is about how I am not being patient and how I'm trying in vain.

This is about his symapthy pains for his mother my sympathy pains for my sister...my sympathy pains for myself.

This is about how I wouldn't go into popeyes in Northeast Portland, because I was scared of the stigma attached to your skin color, mine just happens to be the same.

This is about self fulfilling prophacies, I must learn to make positive ones.

This is about how I don't know what to do and I keep talking about death...and it's OK with me.