As The Leaves Began To Change

I woke up a few days ago, and it was still dark. The last time I had to wake up that early, it was daylight by the time I'd ditched my pj's. No longer so. It's not summer anymore, kids. I love fall, always have. Even when it meant the end of summer freedom and the beginning of seemingly endless schoolwork. I just love it, the smell of it, the weather (I hardly ever get tired of telling people, during the dog days of summer, that I'm only sweating like a pig because my genetic makeup isn't built to withstand temperatures of more that about 20 degrees) but most of all, the feeling of opportunity and excitement. Naturally, spring symbolizes rebirth, the beginning of life. That's not the case for me. For me, all that stuff goes with fall.

Another thing that goes with fall is hibernation. Making a nest in which to hide out over the winter. Nesting, that's something I've been wanting to do a whole lot lately. I want to paint, pick out furniture and paintings, decorate. A big part of it is that I've never really had my own space. Sure, when I was thirteen my parents let me pick the colour for the walls in the room I was sleeping in, but it's not quite the same. Even when I moved out, it was temporary, again, not really my space, and then back into the castle, into the extra room that for the rest of the year is a glorified closet. I want my own place, yet another trapping of adulthood I've always wanted but right now am feeling a mammoth push towards.

My baby sister starts high school tomorrow. I wish I could talk to her, tell her that her whole life won't suck as bad as high school will, that it does eventually get better, that it's not as serious as it seems. But even if she'd listen to me, I have a hunch these are lessons she'll have to learn on her own the same way I did.

Looking at it objectively, it's not as bad as some have led me to believe, and not as good as others have. I've always hated the sound of my voice recorded, but like so much else, I'm going to have to learn to live with it, learn to be proud of it. It's a start. I wish the Siren would help me.

Keep Dreaming
Daydream Believer

The Dirty Rascal

Here I am, back in the castle once again. For the second time in a seven day period. I don't resent it as much as I used to. It feels a little less like a prison, a little more like a palace right now. Especially after the massive disruption and its aftermath. I feel a little more grounded now, a little saner. Or a little less sane, and just more accepting of it. I'm not sure exactly.

"No one can hear you scream"
Frightening words, the mainstay of a certain genre of terrifying films. But sometimes they're not scary, and that can be even more terrifying.

It's too easy to blame someone else. It's also too easy to blame yourself. It's not just you, or them, it's a whole pile of different things bouncing around and off each other.

Strange that we reconnected over you telling me I was in over my head, Red. That I'd get hurt. I should have known you were right, at least in part. Sometimes I'm too optimistic for my own good. But now it's not the same. Why is it that while the tricycle seems so steady, the four-wheeler seems so unbalanced? I miss the bike. I miss you.

Why is it so much easier to say, "I hate you" than "I love you"? It's funny that there's no shame, no stigma associated with hating someone, yet there is with loving someone. It's an easy way to sprain your dignity. I guess it's because someone you hate can't hurt you, not really. Not the same way. It's like being a turtle. Loving someone is flipping yourself (or getting flipped) onto your back. Even if they're not trying, the smallest hurt will do the maximum damage. Might kill you.

Take care what you ask of me, 'cause I can't say no.

I won't be held down by who I used to be.

Everybody's waiting for the hammer to fall.

Too young to die, and too old to believe in promises.

I hate the way you look at me, as if I was broken.

In spite of it all, I feel pretty good. Something about a brand-new bird's eye view kinda makes everything seem a little less epic. A little easier to handle.

Keep Dreaming,
Daydream Believer

Till I Am

Who'd have thought that a song called "Crazy Bitch" could seem so romantic? This side of a good night's sleep, it doesn't, except for that odd memory. Still haven't decoded that funny look... but I'm pretty sure I'm not imagining it now.

So maybe I'm walking the razor's edge, given history, and its unsettling habit of repeating itself. In terms of "what might have been" there's quite a bit. Maybe it still could be, but I doubt it. We're not who we were. Maybe it feels so safe because its not, the same way that some things feel so scary because for once there's nothing to be afraid of. Another chip off the ol' shell, I suppose.

Yes, it's a hellhole, but dammit, it's my hellhole. I guess that's why I smiled all day today. When I wouldn't last night... or couldn't.

Relative reality... hm, there's a concept I could sink my teeth into. Nothing more than what you can perceive exists, or even if it did, you wouldn't notice it. The only truth you can find is the one you come up with yourself.

Keep dreaming.
Daydream Believer

How can I fit so many labels onto such a short post? Metaphors and total lack of clarity!

To Sweet Beginnings...

It's right, in a lot of ways, that I spent New Years Eve with Gold, with Loud, and with Sphinx. The year has come full circle, and aside from being a lot of fun, the evening felt full of poetic justice and the tying of loose ends... or the dripping of wax onto already-tied knots, in some cases.

All lives are made in these small hours,
These little wonders,
These twisting turns of fate.
Time falls away, but these small hours,
These small hours still remain.

The girl who attended last years' party at Loud's would have been completely confused, befuddled, and more than a little distressed by the current state of events, and guess what? I'm not. Because I'm not her, and probably never will be her again. (Side note, brilliant book about identity: The Third Woman, by Mark Burnell, but it won't make much sense without reading the first three, The Rhythm Section, Chameleon, and Gemini, but they also deal with identity, so it still works.) And guess what? I'm okay with that, despite feeling no particular animosity towards her. And that, my friends, is this year's big step, not feeling animosity towards who I have been while pursuing who I will be, and at the same time not ignoring who I am at the moment.

To sweet beginnings and bitter endings,
In coffee city, we borrowed heaven,
Don't give it back, winter is coming,
And I need to stay warm.

Anyways, I'm looking down the barrel of a cannon full of possibilities, which makes me happy, since none of them look really unfriendly. While it'sgood to be home, I'll be glad to be back South.

We found a map to buried treasure,
And even if we come home empty handed,
We'll still have our stories, battle scars,
Pirate ships and wounded hearts,
Broken bones, and all the best of friendships.
And when this hourglass
Has filtered out its final grain of sand,
I'll raise my glass to the memories we had.

Yes, I made some resolutions. And yes, I'd be glad to hear yours, and here's hoping they're more original than "Quit spending money and lose 10 pounds". Not that they aren't worthy goals, but come up with something interesting for New Years. Here's a few that I read or heard various places:

Laugh more.
Drink less coffee.
Sit down and look at the stars/clouds for at least 20 minutes at least once a month.
Do something every day that scares you.
Strike up a conversation with a stranger on public transit or in a grocery store.
Walk or bike somewhere you'd normally drive once a week. (Maybe this one just in the summer for those of us living somewhere very very cold.)
Skip stones. Even if you don't know how.
Smile wider.
Arbitrarily break your routine.
Randomly break into song/dance at least once. (No, DDR does not count)

Alrighty, so there's some interesting New Years Resolutions I've seen. Anyways, that basically covers it in the "things I meant to say when I got to a computer" department, at least, I think it does... if not, there's always tomorrow.


So here's to sweet beginnings, bitter endings or not.
Happy New Year, Keep Dreaming in 2008.
Daydream Believer

Sleep Tight

Corporal and Rad, what the hell am I going to do? I don't know, but I know that Ginger is right. Those butterflies don't happen all that often, so I'm damn well going to enjoy them. No matter where this goes, no matter how it ends. Goodness knows its kind of good the let someone else make decisions and do the work for awhile. And I'm going to get all this shit done. Tomorrow I get to pretend to kick the crap out of someone. In the meantime, the words are flowing like cold corn syrup, but that's still better than before, so I'm going to try to heat stuff up.

Ah, music. I really like Eric Clapton, and I didn't even know it. Yay reminiscing. If only I knew then what I know now, eh? I went to almost every one of my middle school dances, but was always too shy to dance. Oh well, hindsight. Dancing is more fun when you don't have chaperones checking to make sure you're not dancing too close anyways.

Maybe the problem is trying to separate heart, head, and gut. You need all three to get anywhere, really. Maybe we should just relax, stop trying to put the boundaries around each, and let them handle things for a while. Your subconscious and unconscious are there for a reason, let them do their job.

I said a lot of things out loud today that I've been thinking for awhile. Oh well. Had to come out in the open sometime, and I kinda felt like I was going to explode. So now I get to sit on this stuff for three days until everyone's in the same place geographically, so that I can get to the same place non-geographically.

Don't let the bedbugs bite.
Daydream Believer

Because the Night

Come on now, try and understand,
The way I feel under your command.
Take my hand as the sun descends,
They can't hurt you now, can't hurt you now, can't hurt you now.

On Sunset At Sunset
No, it's not the same place. It's very similar, but it isn't quite the same. It's not that theatre. The place I was talking about was that place, that wonderful, peaceful place. A place that's so much like this place. I loved to wander around there, I love to wander around here. I don't fear so much here. That's a lie. I fear differently here. I don't fear the night anymore, not the same way. The night's the same everywhere. I'm ignoring my work, which I've got gads of, to write this and to read a lovely book that fuels, even if it doesn't explain, my infatuation with the night. Twilight. Sunset. It doesn't seem real, so I can be brave, I can be my fictional self. It's wonderful, until I have to face the bright light of morning. Morning light can be so lovely, so clear and crisp, throwing the world into sharp relief, putting everything into higher definition. But sometimes you don't want the past to be so clear. Sometimes you'd rather not face reality. Sometimes you like the world to go a little blurry. It's about dark and light, but the darkness is a little misunderstood. The night can be an escape, such a relief. I find that I'm more afraid of the clear than the blurry right now. I don't know why that is.
There's nothing there in the dark that isn't there in the light. Is there?

Sunbreak
Watching the rain through a crack in the window,
It's the little things get you through,
Like the same sun rising over me's rising over you.
I wonder if you can see the change in my face. Gold, Loud, Este, and Sphinx, you'll have to let me know. I can feel it most of the time, it's subtle, but it's there. I sometimes feel like I've gone back, four years almost exactly. The same feelings, the same insecurities. But it's in the cards, this too shall pass. Opportunity. Carpe diem. A little cliche, I know, but it's real. I've shed one tear since I've been here. One single solitary tear. Not on the day I expected to, or for the reason. I'm not sure whether I felt worse before or after it fell.
Just didn't drink enough to say you love me,
I can't hold on to me,
Wonder what's wrong with me.

The Nile
Say that as though you've lived in Manhattan your entire life, and you'll understand. Fortunately, the whole thing passed pretty quickly. No telling when it'll come back, but I won't deny it again. It's simply not healthy. It's one thing to refuse to act on a really bad idea, it's another thing entirely to pretend that the thought to act never came into your head.

I believe in love too real to feel.
Daydream Believer

All lives are made
With these small hours,
These little wonders,
These twisting turns of fate.
Time falls away, but these small hours,
These small hours still remain.

Out Of The Blue

Cyclic Circles

I guess it takes hindsight to see the truth about it. Well, hopefully I'll know a little better for next time. I'm not going to get hung up on "might-have-beens", at least not today. But I'm about to start the same cycle over again. Now that I've been around the block once or twice, I feel like I can finally go for this without worrying so much.

Who am I kidding? I'll always worry, it takes up about 40 percent of my consciousness. I have to face facts, I'd be lost without it.

In any case, I have a few bits of, well, I think they're bits of brilliance, but everyone else might think they're bits of something else that starts with a B. That's ok though. They're mostly things I'm writing down so that I'll remember them in a couple of months. They may or may not make any sense to you, and that's ok too. Some bits out of my own mind, some bits I've picked up from people, books, coffee mugs or T-Shirts.

The trick is to dance like you're drunk even when you haven't had a drop.
Don't frown, you never know who might be falling in love with your smile.
Don't panic. You've made it this far, why would you break a winning streak like that?
Never say never.
Never say "What's the worst that could happen?" even if you're thinking it really hard, because fate may decide to show you.
Laugh. It's fun and good for you, and that's getting harder to find.
Have fun. It's rarely as serious as all that.
Oh, suck it up and go talk to him/her/them. They're not that scary, and they probably feel just as lost as you do.


MFM

How many times in the last couple of weeks have I thought about My Favourite Mistake? Too many. Way too many. I don't know why I'm thinking about it again after all this time. Maybe I'm still looking for the closure that I've grown doubtful I'll ever get. Maybe time has simply sealed the pages shut. Maybe that is my closure. I'd still like to touch base, I want to know what's happening now. Maybe I'm just playing with fire. I have to say, it's a good thing I'm not a cat.

Music
So lately I've had songs from these couple of movies stuck in my head. The kind of movie they give to little Christian kids to make them think they're watching Disney movies when really it's more like Sunday School on video. At least it's Sunday School with an award-winning soundtrack. The messages aren't bad, and the music's nothing short of amazing.

Memories
How awesome would it be to never have any regrets? It's something to try for, although it's practically impossible to do. I suppose I'm going for the happy medium here, between recklessness and being a wet blanket. Less like "forget regret" and more like "regret, sure, but then deal with it and move on". I blame Gold for my current state of having to scrutinize every idea that pops into my head and figure out how it meshes with my other ideas. Oh well, I'll never be bored. Here's to holding onto the good memories, and not dwelling too much on the not so good ones.

Anyways, I think that's pretty much enough musing for one morning. Ought to get out there and face the rest of the world, rather than just the part that is between me bed and my computer.

Keep Dreaming
Daydream Believer