bright young thing

love fool.

2012-01-27T12:46:00.003-05:00

that heart swell.

crazy beating like a drummer gone spastic

like the dog's tail when he's beside himself with excitement

sometimes i'm positive it will cause an explosion

so just figuring ways to let it out
because all my utterances feel so inadequate.

i like when you come home

i like when you're next to me

all is right with the world, even if it isn't.

and the little brushes of the hand, i still notice

i climb inside your head every so often

and keep getting surprised when i find myself there.

it's not la vie en rose...

but it all does just look and feel a little different

a little better.

fear fool.

2012-01-26T12:40:00.003-05:00

just wondering if this vacant sensation will always stay.

gorgeous lilies to my left.

they aren't mine, but they don't have to be to enjoy them.

to brighten the eyes a little.

and everything hurts a little.

a little sore.

just wondering if the heady feeling would return.

or is this the sort of weight you just have to get used to?

i mean, because i won't.

started writing love notes.

and i was humming hymns under my breath

the kind that tend to dissolve the shadows a little

going on a spiel

one of those romantic tantrums

and i stayed awake without getting tired

but let the chemicals get a little out of balance and i start...

start it up.

question marks everywhere they don't belong?

it's harder to pretend it feels ok.

but at least i've got that everliving smile in my voice.

and i keep saying thank you.

all.

the.

time.

as though it's all such an damned imposition.

did i just gain your disapproval?

whatever you do, swim.

don't you dare begin to sink.

new year.

2012-01-24T21:16:00.004-05:00

stop the shivering and shaking.

no quaking.

questioning. stopped.

it's the middle of winter and i could taste spring.

i could feel it all around us.

i could hear it singing.

echoing the splash.

echoing the chorus.

where we fell.

the beautiful collision.

i regret my failings.

but let them go.

but i'll not regret what has become of it.

we are fires in the night

and lit the fuses

dropped the bombs

and watched our walls crumble.

i'll call your smile back

like the warm of the sun

slow and easy

and filling the rooms with lights

flooded corridors

disarm.

and it's just you and me here now.

alarm bells are ringing, willy.

2012-01-19T15:06:00.001-05:00

i feel like i just woke up out of a rip-van-winkle kind of sleep... like i disappeared so far into myself that i nearly went mad.

oh my god.

it's time for some thanksgiving.

friday the thirteenth rebuddle.

2012-01-13T13:02:00.002-05:00

grace.

friday the thirteenth.

2012-01-13T12:37:00.003-05:00

i can feel it rising.

my nerves are like snapping twigs.

there's enough emotion here to make some of the most beautiful things i ever have.

a radiant beacon of love just pulsing

and i am questioning it.

and i am turning into a coward, ready to just rip it from my insides.

but fully aware that i will take all of me with it.

ready to train myself to believe it never existed.

like a young scientist on the verge of denouncing God.

and i am raging at the skies with bloodied fists

envious of the deep joy that pours from the skin of those that pass.

if i am so wonderful, why am i ever so hard to love consistently?

and what is the point of comparing?

input vs. output.

it isn't adding up.

and i'll be the first to say that i've never been good at math

and so i'd conclude my options are to swallow the damned pill, because it's become useless talking

or start to self-destruct.

but my calculator is broken.

and somehow i believe there is a middle ground, but i cannot find it.

i cannot see it for all the rage in my eyes.

and the great sadness stands waiting to pounce.

bitterness - its nose on my cheek, licking its chops.

as if some enemy is waiting to rip my heart to shreds.

and i wouldn't come back this time.

and weighing the pros and cons.

kicked by the steel toed boot of silence.

unseen in plain sight.

all of this is utterly maddening.

oh, the fear of it all has waged war on me.

snow globe [golden levers]

2012-01-12T16:26:00.002-05:00

the temperature started dropping

and suddenly it's all winter out

doesn't change the fact that it's raining

it's just all frozen and floating

slow.

not flooding.

shaking my head like a snowglobe

waiting for the words to settle

settle down.

and so i said, like some old grumpy man

with an abrupt tongue

"i'm too old for this"

hand on the golden lever

waiting for an excuse to press it down

and instantly became 17

with the world gaping ahead

and the school days sitting there like a monument

"i am much too young for this"

hand on the golden lever

waiting for an excuse to press it down

and then the door would creak open

and i'd slip through that crack

let the unknown engulf me like the black of night

armed with a flashlight and hope it doesn't quit

the burst of cold snapped me back

still waiting with bated breath

a twisted laugh escapes when no one is looking

because who knows what will really happen when it cracks

sylvia.

2012-01-12T15:58:00.003-05:00

If I rest, I think inward, I go mad.

I am jealous of those who think more deeply, who write better, who draw better, who look better, who live better, who love better than I.

How we need another soul to cling to. To rest and trust; to give your soul in confidence. I need this, I need someone to pour myself into.

I liked him too much - way too much, and I ripped him out of my heart so it wouldn’t get to hurt me more than it did.

If I didn't think, I'd be much happier.

The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.

I want to write you of my love. All I have ever touched or said to others is rehearsal for you, and preserved only for this.

...

i really love sylvia plath. and i'm never sure how i feel about the fact that most things she writes is like reading my soul back to myself.

2012-01-12T11:32:00.003-05:00

there's a lot of tension in these shoulders and it builds when i'm awake and when i sleep.

and all-a-that stunts your growth, kid. well, except the growth of love handles.

i'd like to find the perfect red varnish and get a manicure. an excuse to put on makeup and heels and a dress and curl my hair that grew about 4 inches overnight. ok, but seriously. a few extra bucks in the bank to spend and not regret. a frame on which to put those clothes.

i rolled myself up in blankets. tried to switch off, but only the blankets switched.

yours. vs. mine.

but no one is really sleeping anymore. and all-a-that takes its toll, kid.

i rounded the corner and saw it all on display. started second-guessing. i'm a pro at that.

pretty soon, we'll all decide to move on and just go crazy. pretty soon the girls will be women who are adored and bloom and they'll stay or go. and pretty soon all of those boys will grow up to be men. good ones or bad ones. all depends on if they can use some self-control and get some glasses to see humans with value. or is it a world to be conquered with distinct highly evolved mammals. dumb it down and stay a little boy. face the difficulty... carry the integrity... relearn honor and you'll be a man, after all.

i wanna walk out of this door and find myself on the high street, instead. and stand out in the crowds of people. the rain is just about to stop. and there's that darling little flower stand. lilies. lilies. lilies.

and all of those words like truths dancing around in my head.

a pocketful of messages from a life full of friends.

and the way my hand feels small in yours.

a thousand ways to feel treasured.

adored.

i matter.

day dreaming. wide awake.

but it's all a bit overlooked and passed by.

don't worry, it's real easy to forget these things.

and that puts a little more tightness in the chest. and it builds when i'm awake or asleep.

and all-a-that stunts your growth, kid.

hope we're this cute.

2012-01-11T12:30:00.000-05:00

vogue italia.

2012-01-11T11:08:00.002-05:00

in love.

masks come off.

beauty is unveiled.

right where we belong.

2012-01-09T16:34:00.004-05:00

so many conversations lately where we're all second guessing ourselves...

our decisions...

because we have these good hearts that don't want to waste precious time.

because we have these golden hearts that don't want to cause anyone pain.

because our heart's desire to do the right thing.

to make everyone that matter proud of us.

to make everyone who love us happy.

at least to try.

but the answers aren't easy.

and it's in the process.

it's in the journey that all of these marvelous things will be shown.

it's in the day to day that our dreams take shape.

it's not letting go, though it feels like a year has been wasted on working out the details or just holding together the main pieces.

and so, my sweet hearts, be flooded in grace.

be free.

the answers aren't easy.

the storylines are complicated and complex.

and sometimes you'll want the world to end beginning with you.

gripping with fingertips.

sometimes it will feel like you have failed.

sometimes it will feel absolutely hopeless.

but, unwrap this gift...

you are right where you belong.

right here.

right now.

when it is time to move, we'll be moved.

when it's time to stay, we'll be anchored.

i may not know or understand much of anything.

and most definitely have no idea how any of this will turn out...

but this is right.

and now, love extravagantly, right where you are.

because the only regret will be that your love was with-held

and that you didn't allow yourself to be loved.

irregardless of where we're going.

irregardless of where we've been.

nothing is missing.

nothing is being withheld.

we have everything we need today.

you are right where you belong.

i am right where i belong.

we are the only ones in our way.

safe.

2012-01-06T11:37:00.004-05:00

adjective /sāf/

Protected from or not exposed to danger or risk; not likely to be harmed or lost

i had this epiphany yesterday, that pretty much my whole life has had this lingering sense of danger hanging over it. i've always been aware of a need to be careful. and i don't mean some sort of phobia or false sense of impeding doom. I don't mean the whole "don't talk to strangers" thing you learned in school. I remember being able to rattle off my full name, phone number with area code, full address and the name of my doctor by the time I was two. It wasn't just to show off the parenting skills of my parents and my impressionable mind, but rather things were going on with my father at the time, where my mom and I had to go into hiding... restraining orders... the brake lines on the car were cut - my mom and i were about to get in it. And, this would only be the beginning. I knew about drug dealers, crack houses and saw a kid's gun-shot wound. My family did an amazing job of maintaining a stable home life for me... a wonderful private education at a school where I was nurtured by a genuine staff. One in a million. I had music lessons... and my teacher was like another mother to me. In fact, should anything happen to my family, she was to be my legal guardian. (The kinds of things I knew as a little girl.)

In many strange ways, I can be thankful for all that happened. I don't feel sorry for myself... because it all helped to make me the way that I am. It's helped to make me the adventurous thing I've turned out to be.

At the same time, I've realised it has caused an inability to really rest in a lot of situations. It goes a lot deeper than abandonment issues. It goes further than rejection issues. It's about feeling and knowing that I'm safe. All of this was triggered when finding out that a couple thugs were just kickin it in my house until 5am the other night. But, that, my friends, is another story.

Like my little blog header says, I'm going to tell the truth here...

I'm tired of not feeling safe...

In a neighborhood... in my home...

To be alone with certain people, especially men I don't know very well.

Of not feeling safe in my job... like my job is at risk if I make a wrong move.

In friendships.

In relationships.

I want to know I'm safe.

this thing i wrote... [upon losing my mind]

2012-01-03T09:35:00.000-05:00

there's that strange gaping feeling
like the space from your throat to your stomach is massive
and yet empty all at the same time
the lump that crawls up your esophagus and makes you want to cry
but the tears aren't coming
i wish they would
kind of like that feeling like you need to be sick
you might like to get it over with already
but then, there's that feeling that if you start you'll never stop
i didn't want to feel anything
i still don't
i couldn't sleep
and as tired as i am, i could happily stare blankly into space
although this radio station could send me into a fit of rage
i'm climbing the walls
in my mind anyway
counting down the minutes until someone gets here
i need out
and soon enough, someone will realize i'm not ok right now
and i can't exactly tell you why
i know too much.
those raging words will stick with me for a very long time
i'll beg for isolated amnesia, but it won't come
you're asking too much of me
every last one.
remember that header?
i've been lying.
or at least concealing.
have you ever hurt so badly that you go numb?
have you ever wished someone would punch you so that you could feel something?
it's dark in here and i'll never ever tell you so.
when you discover that you are an option to everyone you make a priority.
when you discover that they mean well
but you're not enough.
when you discover it was all a lie.
your feelings. your emotions. none of them matter.
your wants your desires.
none of them matter.
your needs.
none.
matter.
i am utterly bloated with sadness.
deflated of worth.
hardened by disappointment.
and tired of trying again and again.
the angry tides are coming in
and it's only a matter of time.

goodbye, two thousand and eleven.

2011-12-31T12:20:00.005-05:00

2012.
it's time to find rest here.
it's time for peace.
the shalom kind.
health.
wholeness.
a quiet heart.
a lifestyle of love that kicks out fear.
it's time for forgiveness.
this year has involved some people who have wounded me deeply.
but it's time to stop hiding them and pretend they didn't happen.
to release all of these hurts that i haven't gotten over.
because it's turning to bitterness and i can feel my heart going numb.
it's time to learn to say no.
it's time to stand up for myself in a healthy way.
but it's also time to abandon hiding and self preservation.

there's this proverb that says: "The human spirit can endure a sick body,
but who can bear a crushed spirit?" (proverbs 18:14)

there have been times this year when i've expressed that to people i've allowed to be close to me. i've posted signs saying, "right now, please tread softly here in this area. this is thin ice. please, be respectful. please, be cautious. please, be overly aware." and they disregarded all of it. and the moment i expressed my feelings, i was met with defensiveness or remorse. only for it all to happen again. and again. and again.

they just don't get it, no matter how often i spell it out and sit them down.
so this year, i'm saying...
STOP.
STOP.
no.
JUST. STOP.
because
there is so much here...
so many wonderful things. new and old.
i'm in love.
and honestly, i'd really just like to be able to relax in it.
i'm tired of feeling threatened.
i'm tired of feeling inadequate.
because i allow myself to feel that way...
AND
because i allow people to make me feel that way.

enough is enough.

and so, my new years' resolution is to allow myself to be loved.
let go of some unhealthy situations.
and make the wonderful people in my life a priority.
the ones who make me a priority.
and being a people pleasing personality, this is harder than you might think.

"there will come a time, you'll see... with no more tears and love will not break your heart, but DISMISS your fears. Get over your hill and see what you find there, with grace in your heart and flowers in your hair."

12:30

2011-12-30T17:08:00.002-05:00

run away with me in the night
til we get to the edge of the sea
footprints only to be stolen by the receding tide
or to the starry hill
or hide away in my room
make the music drown out the noise
nothing but smiling faces
and that feeling when my nose is buried in your neck
like everything is speeding up
and everything is slowing down
all at the same time
and your eyes start talking
saying i'm safe here
saying it's all turned right
no guards
no fears
just us
bathed in lights

2011-12-30T01:13:00.000-05:00

they've all been there, i think
she makes the waves come strong
she makes the words flow quickly
too much light in the retina…
and she'll help me plan the escape route
help me to slip away and disappear
put on the straight jacket
or quietly shrink to the bedroom
pretend, like a madwoman that you saw nothing
that it doesn't exist
swirling motions like whirlpools
and i can see that look in his eyes
he's a little worried
they can sense the truth that we try to ignore
feel the timidity on our skin
taste the fear on our brow
the panic simmering just beneath the surface
you all have your escape patterns
you all have your crutches
and mock me when i walk with a limp
my eyes glazed like donuts
no one will notice.
the warmth evaporated
so crawl into bed and i'll stay there hidden
don't ask.
don't tell.
just hide.
my stories unheard
my thoughts unprocessed
those songs unwritten
a good woman, unwanted
now let's pretend it's all science
let's pretend it all exists
let's pretend i feel nothing
pretend like a madman that you saw nothing
and i'll write out of it
that abyss.
they've all been there, i think
she makes the waves come strong
she makes the words flow quickly
too much light in the retina…
eyes closed.

...

2011-12-28T12:25:00.007-05:00

there's that beautiful laughing face. and even when not smiling, there's laughter in her eyes. the corners of her mouth begging to come up. she's happy. at rest and happy.

she'd been awake for a day, at least. jet-lagged. sleep deprivation marked her face. he was so nervous... talking too fast and then too little... he was "awestruck by her beauty". he said.

words like those don't go easily.

there's this split. equal parts hope and fear.
damn the word, fear and its cold hands and ability to woo a healthy beautiful young woman into a paralytic. its ability to change the atmosphere from that of bright sun to impending hurricane.
i'll spit the names from my mouth with all of the blame.
and leave room for shadows.
all this talk of fighting makes me want to fight every last one who would make a mockery of my love and attempt to entice it from me. greedy mouths feasting on their cake and stealing mine too. and though that fear may shake me, i will stand with clenched teeth and tears. eyes open. i will not move to hold anyone back. i will not cling. i cannot make anyone stay. i cannot move any heart to love. control is an illusion. and it is not my duty to fight here.
but to you who call me your friend. who speak of love. who lie to my face. who disregard commitment and twist daggers. who have no respect for these things.
and you for enticing it. for beckoning. for playing with fire.
i'd rather bloody your face for the betrayal.
i have to bite my tongue from cursing...
and so silent...
yeah, no more.
because, all of this hits too close to home.
repeat.
repeat.
repeat.
and i intend on cutting the tape.
erase my memory.
of a ring on my finger and an invitation to celebrate the first year...
and i am met by silence.
silence like that doesn't go easily.
and ring in the new year
to have your beloved disappear.
silence like that doesn't go easily.
every.
last.
one.
and now, i'm asked to ignore every ounce of intuition
every alarm bell ringing
every intonation in or out of context
close my eyes and smile like a woman at rest.
well.
send.
them.
away.
and tell it to me slow...
words like that don't go easily.
or stain the air with silence.
...

nothing new. just a reminder.

2011-12-20T21:45:00.000-05:00

"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket -- safe, dark, motionless, airless -- it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, inpenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell." - c.s. lewis

wake up o sleeper.

2011-12-13T14:31:00.004-05:00

it's looking pretty magical around here. this is the men's side of the salon.

i'm going to start by saying, i really love my new job.

not only that, but the people i work with are just lovely, as well.

very encouraging.

one of our top stylists cut my hair yesterday and she did an amazing job. (obviously.)

my hair, however, is being saved from a very sad state. essentially, my hair has broken off and thinned out because of stress. it's now a smidgen past my shoulders when straight.

wake. up. nitasha.

the past year and a half has been really taxing in so many ways. and i hate to say it, but my piano playing and singing has fallen to the wayside. i mean, there are some good things that have happened and that needed my attention... and though i have been writing, i've done nothing to make them become tangible pieces. my social life has dwindled down, as well. partly because i've been so used to working with friends at a restaurant, and now that isn't the case. partly, because i'm just a bit of a homebody. i've also gone from running around like a mad-woman, to staying predominantly seated during my work day. UGH. nopity. nope. nope.
so it's time to make things move.

i've gotten back into the kitchen some, thanks to pinterest and have made some super yummy treats, including oreo truffles, pumpkin cheesecake, and last night's homemade hot chocolate. DE-LISH.

i've also got the itch to take more photos and get back into some art, as well.

i am on a quest to find a place in nashville that has some seriously good yoga, pilates, dance and kickboxing. whether this is a gym or not, matters not so much to me. i would rather run outside, anyway.

and i need to take a little more 'me' time.

feel a little less guilty for vegging out on the couch to watch a movie or to get caught up on gossip girl or my new fetish, the new girl.
and a vacation needs to be imminent. i mean, in the dead of winter... before spring comes and after christmas. and what with one of my best girlfriends living in kingston jamaica? i mean... more on that later.

it's like i've been laid out after some damage has happened to my heart.

but bed rest time is over.

it's time to work this thing out, and really get going again.

wake. up. nitasha.

s a b o t a g e [own it and turn]

2011-12-08T11:22:00.004-05:00

if you listen carefully, you'll hear it

look closely, it's in plain sight

the detachment.

the push.

the sabotage.

dressed up in all kinds of fancy costumes.

impostor. posing.

unmasked. exposed for what you really are.

humility is plated and served with silver cutlery.

because, after all, i am mostly to blame here.

let's not throw the baby out with the bathwater, though.

no lashes. no jail time.

just own it and turn.

hang the fear from the gallows.

tie the insecurities to the stake and watch them burn.

but beware friends and lovers, the ghosts will haunt the place

the spirits of lies will whisper until you hear them.

they'll slam doors in the middle of the night until you deal with them.

until the wrongs are made right.

own them and turn.

hurled fists to the wall.

and they drew a line down my wrists.

spelling out a reminder of what really is.

and they handed out validation tickets for anger.

and validation tickets for fear.

but they are meant only for passing through...

not meant to keep me here.

not meant to be hired on as some servant of depression

those heavy invisible hands stealing away my heart...

the alarms have been ringing

i just keep ignoring them all.

but the silence here pushes me further into those arms.

and the looks of scorn not intended for me...

but i receive.

and i must work for the kindness that i dole out freely?

for the care.

for the concern.

and i'm exhausted by loneliness

and attempting to win a love i cannot earn.

to keep what cannot be stolen.

to save what won't be lost.

but that silence speaks volumes to the wounds in my heart.

and the careless words reinforce my doubts.

and on the stars and on the ones

i make wishesand exhaling. offering...

prayers to the God of my life

out of the roaring in my soul

out of the tremors in new bones

out of the visions in my head

out of the dreamings of dread

out of the history repeating

out of the present tug of war

out of the darkness comes light

to own it and turn it

and swallow it whole

and a joy to replace it

and a grip in my hands to hold it

thanksgiving flooding my mouth

for that sweet one asleep on my lap

for the strong arms

that my heart will be held in yours

kept safe

no running

no sabotage

2011-12-01T17:29:00.002-05:00

do not be afraid.

let's.

2011-12-01T16:41:00.002-05:00

ps.

kiiinda miss london sometimes.

ok... [it's been too long]

2011-11-28T00:43:00.003-05:00

i love this season. autumn - thanksgiving - christmas. i've never been a big shopper for black friday, probably because i've never had a wallet full of extra cash with which to spend. also, i can sometimes get social anxiety in massive pushy crowds. cyber monday? let's play. meanwhile, i'm sitting at this dining room table, which belongs to my housemate and is really nice at first glance, but super awkward. why? only 2 of the four chairs in the circle push in all the way. along with writing this, i'm sipping... well ... was sipping yuengling out of a now empty bottle, and savouring every page turn of the december issue of british vogue. i look forward to this every month more than i can say. and thankfully, there is now a barnes & noble far closer than before which makes my heart very happy. simple things, like bookstores. call me crazy, but i'd much rather have a book or a magazine in my hands than a nook thing. tablets are neat. but for reading, not my style.

i.am.a.purist.

so i live just outside of nashville in a place called antioch. immediately, for most locals, this conjures up mental images of wannabe thugs and crime and drug dealers and a make believe mall where hardly anyone goes unless you want your car broken into and/or to be a candidate to be shot inside. it's kind of not that serious. but it kind of is.

however, i live in a lovely roomy 1300something square foot apartment with my dream garden soaker tub for half of what i paid for a decent condo closer to downtown. and right now? i'm trying to be a bit more practical. but i was thinking the other day how much potential antioch has. it has it's nice bits (like mine) and it's not so nice bits. i think it just needs a few things...

- since we're on the subject, let's begin with a barnes & noble

- a real shopping center with actual stores people like, as opposed to another nail shop, loan place and cricket phone or the like.

- a gym. a nice one. just. sayin.

- another publix and at least 1 whole foods and/or trader joes and one classy kroger.

- some kind of bongo java group coffee place.

- a real movie theatre.

- chik-fil-a

- more tasty cuisine options that are found only in nashville... or the south, even. i mean, how is it that smyrna has a better looking cluster of shopping options and food places than antioch?

- a j alexanders. just for good measure.

- annnnd a few more cashiers at wal-mart after 9pm.

- a few classy little boutiques.

- a victoria's secret.

- and last but not least, pie in the sky.

is that asking too much?

you can do it, antioch! not saying i wanna live here forever, but it would make things just a little sweeter in the meantime.

lend me your ear and i'll sing you a song...

2011-11-15T14:54:00.005-05:00

there is a deadbolt on my tongue. the pounding of the fists of my heart can be heard echoing through the halls. my eyes are always talking and giving me away. but i will firmly deny everything under that swaying lamp. will you pull up a chair and listen to me search the dark corners of doubt in my mind? or will you interject with objections like a prosecuting attorney? will you calm my fears or send them running full-speed on a hamster wheel of catch 22s. i am my own worst bully pushing faster and faster on the merry-go-round. less merry. more dizzy spells. heart heavy from the chains wrapped round to weigh it down and keep it quiet. the belly of the beast is starved for affection. and i keep feeding it criticisms. shouting abuse at my own reflection. ashamed of my weaknesses, i have abandoned patient regard. ashamed of my mistrust i will push away harder to create the rejections i try to avoid. all subliminal mind you. all moving like a pendulum set in motion... under which i am screaming my head off wanting desperately to move. the senselessness of the distortion would be hysterically funny if it wasn't so incredibly sad. brainwashed to believe the silliest of notions like some white robed cult follower... and it's my own hands pouring the poisoned elixir in my cup.

birds eye view. sway under the weight. the winds of change are blowing but not in the direction that i expect. standing on their soap boxes preaching truth with a mouth full of lies. tattooing their creed against injustice on the same hands that will throw the blows to the innocent. the alluring mouths beneath wide pleading eyes begging for entry to your trust... that they will destroy if given the chance. does anyone fight for anything good anymore? does anyone protect beautiful things? or just glorify the cheap quick thrills that are attractive for a moment and leave you rotting from the inside out. like senseless zombies devouring each other. and it all just feels desperately lonely... hope giving way to cynicism in the middle of a dark moment... a thick darkness like in the story of the egyptian plague...

when a hand takes mine. the silent, familiar, steady hand...

everything's not lost. perspective. grace. an ear... "start from the beginning and take as long as you need..."

i will try not to sing out of key.

i love my house, i love my nest...

2011-11-15T12:31:00.004-05:00

human beings are big ol weirdies. most especially me. always finding myself in catch 22s. can't write because i'm emotionally blocked up. when i need a release and i'm brimming with ideas, i'm afraid of what will come out. or maybe i'm afraid of being completely redundant. frustrated at the fact that i'm still learning my abc's of love. and what? when i thought i was understanding algebraic equations and well versed? HAH! i have much to learn.

in the meantime, i have been swallowed whole by the beast that is Pinterest. feel free to find me!! i will say, i'm slightly concerned about my involvement as i'm tapping my inner martha stewart/homemaker. but i kind of like it.

happy halloweeny jelly beany!

2011-10-30T02:23:00.002-04:00

this is my kinda halloween. watching bewitched or the munsters or hitchcock episodes while drinking spiced wine/apple cider... maybe octoberfest beer... maybe some popcorn... maybe pumpkin seeds. i am positive that i am in the minority, but this zombie/slaughtering/guts&gore thing is getting real tired. what happened to good ol fashioned ghosts and frankenfun and great pumpkins? good thing many of these things are streaming on netflix.

2011-10-29T01:46:00.001-04:00

final pleas(e). [while the little ones slept]

2011-10-13T00:33:00.000-04:00

teach me how to be still

be here

and disappear completely

to remember what should be so obvious

but it's all wrong and in my head

the checks need balancing

and the balancing needs checking

and God, my heart is hungry

for a meaning i won't forget

or to know i'm not forgotten

that the invitation is still good

that my push will be ignored

because somehow it's understood

because i'm acting out

because i feel misunderstood

like my heart is lost in translation

like a child too young to speak

or just like the rest of us

broken...

running...

scared as hell

and pushing.

pushing away and fighting the tender touches

that should make us safe

trying not to remember

all the wrong things

analyse all the small things

remember and impose my fears

but i'm imposing!

and need reassuring

and need to hear it til i don't remember.

a hand to steady the trembling

just wait til the tremors stop

no walls resurrected

no guards sent to taunt

just come sit down beside me

hear me.

see me.

and be patient with my heart.

tread softly.

2011-10-07T19:21:00.004-04:00

should anything happen here

it will be on your head

and i will call out your name

long after all has been said

and the peace is disturbed

like the waves in my brain

and collapse from the strain

i'll not tell it again

just make lines from the stain

gentle fingers turn to fists

and i've lost the courage to throw them

imagine the look on their faces

wall flower i am not

damsel in distress - never.

manipulation empress -

i should be.

because in this world they get what they want.

jezebels turning heavens to hells

careful, the fury is waking up

careful, when i feel enough is enough.

mine. [field]

2011-10-07T19:21:00.003-04:00

fingerprints fading from the glass walls.

mine.

can't compare with indelible marks and scratches

the mended breaks that insight your response.

your regard.

your care.

your defense.

your thought.

your rage…

and so on.

and if i am angry it is taken as weakness

and if i am sad, just a fragile actress.

and if i am happy well, then all is right within these worlds.

my words fall unheard. like flakes of snow

awake to the drifts that collected in the night while they slept.

my nightmares have become hunters that stalk when i am awake.

but i won't leave a trace from this exhausted chase.

my thoughts take shape and would form sound

that would fill the room

but there is no sound

dumb.

smiling mime. unheard. unkept.

so take this home and watch it wither and die.

weary of playing god assessing and reassessing the value of it's life

who am I?

make that case lower.

and teetering like a child on the playground, constantly ignoring and excusing the symptoms. the seriousness.

laugh it off as folly while the shadows haunt me in the night

remind me in the day

and pull away

away.

and watch the fingerprints and breath fading from the glass walls

mine.

processing.

2011-10-06T23:56:00.002-04:00

you are feeling very sleepy...

2011-08-26T12:43:00.004-04:00

i feel like i just woke up to find that for the last few months, i've been walking around under hypnosis believing that this goldfish bowl is the whole sea.

perhaps work and trying to get finances under control has been the clock that i've been following. my dreams are no longer full of fantastic fantasies that could easily come from lemony snicket or cs lewis or even the latest action flick in which i'm running for my life and slinging guns like a bond girl. my head is no longer filled with songs and rhythms and swelling symphonies and little songs. the light in my eyes has been stolen and filled with suspicion. i've forgotten how to be a beautiful woman at rest who artfully unveils her beauty in a multitude of ways and instead, i've dumbed it down to a routine of being just another needy and insecure person who puts her prettiest pieces of flesh on display. grasping. flailing. surrounding myself with all the wrong sorts of things.

my song was love... it is now a silent film of fear.

the world is my oyster and i am crippled by fear of losing and failing...

i have become my own worst critic and my own worst enemy,

driving the light out...

i miss...

you know what?

it's not the time to miss or wish.

it's not the time for regret.

it's not the time for waste.

it's time to wake up and move into this new day spread out like a feast before me.

it's time to revel and bask...

in love himself.

in my love.

in my family.

in my friends.

it's time for mini sweet escapes.

it's time for brunches and coffee dates with my best friends.

it's time for adventures.

it's time to get lost on purpose.

it's time to dance.

it's time to sleep in and cuddle.

it's time to release the fear...

the hurts...

the what-ifs...

the hysterical attempt to make everyone happy.

it's time to relish in fashion magazines and art projects and old movies.

it's time to be with people who bring the best out of me and i, them.

it's time to disassociate with people who teach me to hide.

it's time to write.

it's time to learn.

it's time to sing.

it's time to play.

it's time to release.

it's time to love.

it's time to be.

i feel like i just woke up from a dream where i've been fearful of thieves.

but everything is in its right place.

everything is here or on its way.

i have everything i need. nothing is missing.

nothing has been stolen...

nothing but my joy and peace.

but, they've found their way home to me.

hush.

2011-08-19T01:15:00.000-04:00

hush little baby

don't say a word

not even with your eyes

they say too much

face tells too much

like if the walls of your soul could talk

they do

and they will.

lighthearted

assisted in defying gravity

and it isn't you

not sure what the combination

but it isn't you.

but it is...

the little house is now a home

and your inexperience mistaken for naivety

all this talking over your head

incessant secrets

told to walls that don't talk

because they don't and they won't

the kind that sweat

the kind that hold dust close like static cling

for fear they'll tell everything

quiet little baby

humming to yourself

don't say a word

not even with your eyes

they say too much

face tells too much

like if the walls of your soul could talk

they do

and they will.

doldrums. [waiting in the library]

2011-08-18T02:29:00.002-04:00

sometimes it feels like the winds just won't blow...

or maybe you've just been shipwrecked

or like you're all dressed up for sailin' and swimming... and it's just a bit wrong...

and in these moments, we can get down and sad...

or just get busy making new plans and building new boats in the library

you're a lucky man, my son.

2011-08-09T00:27:00.003-04:00

he's a lucky man.

is he?

they say that all the time.

ever noticed?

but heads will roll

away all the time

turn your face from me.

no.

but darting glances.

are there question marks above missed chances?

thanks for letting me borrow the expression.

thanks for letting me bury my confession.

it seems a kind word and a soft touch is…

foreign

like a dying breed

on the extinction list

dear darling girl,

take all of your anxieties and misconceptions about yourself and bury them.

throw them to the wind.

because you were always chosen over that one.

over this one.

it's my secret.

the secret that i know.

it's the simple fact that you will always be the belle of the ball.

there will always be your figure casting shadows on the wall

you will always be one of the faces

one of the names of the voices in the back of my head

and i will walk around unsure

pretending to be very sure

that he's a lucky man.

is he?

fighting with the wolves.

2011-08-05T14:26:00.003-04:00

i've lost my mind here.

i've lost my patience with it all.

the fuel light is on. and there's nothing left to fill it with.

i'll let you know when a miracle happens.

a litter box and fruit flies.

2011-07-07T21:35:00.005-04:00

there is always music in my head. going into it. swimming around in it. flying out of it. pretty much always. new songs. old songs. and little jingles and melodies in between. and so, it catches my attention when i get in my car (which doubles as a music box on wheels) and realize that after 10 minutes of driving, i have yet to put on music. in fact, it hasn't even occurred to me. worse still, that after this thought is digested and tweeted, i climb back into this wind tunnel of a think tank and still don't reach for the ipod.

alert. something is wrong.

one day i lost this healthy balance of self-acceptance in my life. i dont remember when that day was or what triggered it exactly. i mean, i think too much self love makes one egotistical. a little insecurity never hurt anyone... in fact, it often pushes us to be better. causes us to hold hands with humility. keeps us in check, if you will. but this healthy balance of self-acceptance (flaws and beautiful things and ordinary in between) is really easy for me to lose. to juggle.

and sometimes these insecurities get the best of me when i'm not looking.

i think i always had this idea that all of these nagging feelings of inadequacy would leave when i got a bit older. like i'd grow out of them... like some sort of allergy.

and i still hope they do.

but mostly, i'm convinced it's sometimes in exercising your mind to think a certain way. to dwell on certain things. to refuse to dwell on other things. because feeding on lies or distortions about yourself is like leaving fruit out in a kitchen. next thing you know, it's infested with fruit flies. and on this, i speak from experience. it would seem my housemate forgot some limes from a party a few weeks ago. and as she is out of town, i have had the lovely task of discovering the art of annihilating fruit flies.

fun town. (really, i wish i could borrow a fleet of trained hungry little lizards and tree frogs. but it would be my luck, they'd eat the buffet and then get lost in my apartment forever.)

or have you ever been in a house where someone had a cat... maybe 2 or more? and they weren't so very good at keeping the litter box clean?

your noses are cute and wrinkled and your gag reflexes are doing wonderfully well.

the litter box is proooobably in the deepest darkest furthest corner in the basement, but you'll smell it like it's hanging from the front door.

this is what it's like when we stay in the wrong way of thinking.

both the smell and the flies are annoying and bothersome and just plain gross. and it won't leave or stay isolated or be covered up... they grow and multiply respectively.

until you clean it and keep it clean.

it's out of hand.

it's stifling.

and more than anything it's hurting my heart.

and kicking the music out of my head.

"Summing it all up, friends, I'd say you'll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. Put into practice what you learned from me, what you heard and saw and realized. Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies."

heard.

let me see, tonight.

2011-06-16T19:10:00.001-04:00

now and then.

2011-06-14T22:19:00.003-04:00

i think we took the long way to avoid the traffic.

and all i know is that i was nervous. a thousand emotions came flooding back, but with some sort of distant tone.

and all i know is that i picked up my phone and messaged a best friend who would understand.

i didn't understand the casual nature of her response.

i didn't understand why, though i was nervous, i wasn't completely freaking out.

i didn't care if i impressed him.

i just wanted to revisit the scene.

i just wanted to see…

i walked up to the gate. the same.

i heard the footsteps and pretended to be absorbed in my phone.

i saw his face and remembered.

remembered.

like recalling a distant dream.

the conversations came easy.

we ate. we drank and were merry.

and we recalled the past…

the not so merry part…

or rather, i did…

i just wanted to see.

and forgiveness is a choice, after all…

and after tonight i'd leave that grave behind.

i found myself comparing the similarities.

and realized i was with a shadow of your past.

i saw a man who had let me in.

i saw a man who had received one too many blows.

i saw a man with a loyal heart…

and somewhere in there…

somewhere in his mind's eye he saw that i wasn't the same as all the others.

and he chose to run.

he didn't choose to stay, then.

which brings us to now.

i heard him speak of her…

but from behind the walls.

i heard him speak to her…

but from behind the walls.

and it made me a little sad.

sad to see him still there.

but hopeful that he'd find his way out someday…

like you did.

and i heard myself speak of you…

and i felt the butterflies swarm upward

the rush of blood to the head

and i couldn't wait to tell you again…

and you could hear it in my voice.

you could see it in my eyes.

i could feel myself light up

and i wanted you to feel it...

i wrote this song a while ago with the line,

"and we cried and we cried cause it was good to go free."

and back in the flat, looking over a deserted camden town

i cried and cried because it's so good to be free.

i took my heart to a place where the hurt ran deep

and it didn't hurt anymore

something beautiful has happened here.

something beautiful has begun…

love sent fear packing.

and i don't want it to ever let me go.

it's morning here.

2011-06-14T06:39:00.000-04:00

i wrote it down once

i said that if it ever happened to me

i'd search the dictionary for words to explain

and i wouldn't stop til the language was exhausted

and all i can do is absorb the peace

it fell like the dew in the morning

we were just contented in our houses

behind our walls

or pretending to be

like modern man looking at everything through a lens

and someone threw open a window

all i can do is breathe in hallelujahs

all my tongue can speak is thanks

every corner illuminated with enchantment

the southern heavy heated summer nights can't suffocate it

and the rains can't wash it away

rather dance in it

and i could dance all night

it feels like all of the stars are the soundtrack

filled in with laughter spilling from the heavens

like a rainy season after a draught

and then, i find myself quiet

moved.

and unsure of what to say

content to be reticent

a quiet peace mingling in the flames

it sounds like all of my favorite songs

all of my favorite sounds

ebbs and flows

arms outstretched

happy to be overcome by this…

this orchestra weaving it's symphonies around me

like when we stood being wrapped up together

they danced around us

and some things blur

and some things become clearer

and some things disappear completely

and so many things unseen are waiting for us

waiting for us to make them move

and the truth is...

2011-06-10T06:34:00.000-04:00

i miss you.

london calling. i answered.

2011-06-08T18:52:00.004-04:00

i feel it's been a while. probably because i've been in a season of constant change. and i'm just letting all of these waves sort of wash over me. trying to soak in it all. trying to verbalize it. but i assure you, it's just under the surface... just in a place where i'm pondering all of these things.

yesterday, i boarded a plane to london. my nervousness usually begins a day before departure, but, this time, it started sneaking in about a week ago or so. i dont think i've ever felt so sick on a flight. i kept eyeing the brown air-sickness bag. yikes. i didn't sleep a wink... just watched films. 2 rom-coms, 1 comedy and 2 tv shows to be precise. and you know what? usually when watching romantic comedies, i get a little melancholy and perhaps wistful... thinking, "aw, perhaps someday..." or "i want to feel that", but for the first time, i could identify with these stories unfolding. i think it's one of the first times i've fully enjoyed those kinds of films because my own heart was full.

so we landed late... and i think my cab driver had been up for ages, because he kept falling asleep at the wheel. this little baby was praying for sure. got to the flat, and i'm so happy to see that matt is continuing his efforts to take over the world. i slept for a bit, then ventured out, finally. a man stopped me, to ask for directions... he was, as he put it, sure that i MUST be a londoner... i looked like a londoner. and he was so surprised that i wasn't... as though i'd completely fooled him. i took it as a high compliment.

the first of gigs is tomorrow night...

the point of this trip, mainly being to get this musical ball rolling again.

but, i'm feeling like a little kid with pebbles staring down goliath or something.

and my heart feels a bit more mousey than that of a lion.

i would like to say how thankful i am for an amazing boyfriend who is absolutely incredibly encouraging... and behind me a thousand percent. so thankful for those family members and friends who have been hyper-sensitive to my heart and who have been so so uplifting.

"these hands don't work, but yours will do just fine. tonight, i'll leave myself behind and run into your light. i am broken, but that's just your type."

welp. here goes....

revel.

2011-05-17T18:26:00.001-04:00

what i would give to stop being so afraid of abandonment and just let these good things settle in my heart.

merry month of may. [introducing...]

2011-05-14T22:11:00.002-04:00

sunny days off...

playtime before work...

bathtime.

i am smitten.

fire escape

2011-04-25T15:54:00.003-04:00

slip out the door,

two by two...

running off like fugitives

under cover

out of sight.

no guesses made.

no excuses.

no fights.

just closed young things,

blooming in the night.

on fire.

deaf to the ticking clocks

and healed of the bruises on their hearts.

no prying eyes,

no eager ears.

he let the words spill out down her cheeks

sending away all that was scared in her tender veins

her eyes like mirrors without distortion

he likes the way she sees him

he follows her regard

trees twirling past

and everything is alright

he begs her lips to kiss

he begs her heart to speak

'say that i'm your baby'

'say it's not nothing'

'say that i'm the right one'

'and when you've said it all, my lover'

'say it all again'

and all the world fades slow from view

dropping down like a sunset

but only for just a moment

last call for the trains to depart

last call for boarding

hands unclasped

minds unravelled

the reappearance of hearts so bruised

quietly resume routine

time ticks in their ears

pushing distance

pushing space

pushing and pulling them back to their place

back to their cues

one step

one step more

alone again

slip in the door.

i was almost called april.

2011-04-21T04:03:00.007-04:00

It's very much like the weather here.

It's the end of april and nature is keeping the warmth just out of reach.

Maybe she's just bi-polar. giving a few days of spring-cum-summer…

followed by some violent outburst of a storm that brings a cold front.

She takes you on meaningless, taxing roller-coaster rides.

Much like the chosen lovers of so many good men.

Because they'd rather go in circles and on thrill rides through amusement parks than on adventures around the world.

Wait. Hold up. We were talking about weather.. warm days... ah yes.

Just when you thought you could get comfortable…

skin bathing in the sun…

mind running like children from a school building outside to recess.

All of them pulsating with a thousand ideas that are just one moment away from becoming a reality.

you know that feeling…

so simple, but you know it.

still.

the day off with nothing planned.

gaping like a blank canvas waiting to make your thoughts visible.

but we get scared and we book our days full of routine.

or never have a day off.

or get used to spending it alone.

'controlled'

disappearing in work.

in stimulants.

in depressants.

in escapes.

in people.

in the mundane.

in the meaningless.

in anyplace we don't have to show up.

or it rains.

and we find ourselves in this same old space.

and i think i just wanted not to be alone in this room.

with all these creature comforts that don't quite match the feel of nearness.

i spoke aloud just now and my voice quivered in a way i've never heard.

i didn't recognize it.

like every fibre is deteriorating.

like that forgotten gown hanging in the closet…

could you remind me that i'm not a novelty?

remind me that i'm not worthless.

remind me that i mean something.

and you'll have to repeat yourself, because i'm in the habit of believing lies.

i listened. my face lit up...

and i woke up an hour before the alarm clock just trembling for the cold front that has crept in, yet again.

left alone in this room, nothing new.

playing solitaire.

and they keep sliding messages under the door asking if i'm doing okay.

i'm tired of answering.

a chapter of a story summarized like a bad knockoff of cliff's notes.

you'd fail the course for reading it, of course. because the headlines spell out some catch phrase.

but to my heart nail down injustice.

the beat dropped and my middle finger went up.

and there was no one there to see it.

there was no one there to feel it crack.

because no one fights for me anymore, and with resignation, i'm walking away.

i've heard a thousand words. a million. all of those gorgeous well constructed sentences.

i've heard the verbal bullets fly…

but, darlings, there's no target.

and speaking behind backs, you just pretend you never said it.

all these words in an inflated economy.

worth less than the US penny.

there is no fort knox to back it up.

there is no accountability. no calling out.

just texting. just venting. just blogs and status updates.

just passive aggressive hot air.

a sharpened sword in the corner collecting dust.

i know you didn't mean to.

i know you meant well.

i know what happened was...

but i'm equally bored and wounded by your silence.

and then, actions speak far louder.

they scream at me like some drill sergeant's breath and sweat on my face.

it feels like it's coming to blows.

the bottom line driven across the lands of my heart like a cold war.

and every so often i can shut them out…

but only if i turn the music up loud enough.

it hurts again.

i had a dream a few weeks ago…

far less disturbing than the one i had last night, thankfully.

i thought if i could reach the highest height to get to some great force that they could fix it.

i thought if i could petition the 'adjustment bureau' … the divine at the top of the world…

if i could just have a moment, they would hear my case and step in.

my helicopter met a storm and had to land before i could get there.

in a world where equations run rampant…

where karma is revered

i question it.

because my 2 and 2 always make a five.

the guilty get off scott free, the innocent never looked more guilty

and in the meanwhile i am willing to take my lumps for both sides.

and defiant, i remain unmedicated, open, vulnerable, much/unafraid.

ever prying my hands away from the reigns of control…

desiring to love better.

reach out and then they slap my hands.

doors slammed in my face.

truth met with lies.

embraces lined with daggers.

my heart looted and defaced.

ignored.

forgotten.

passed over.

and for what?

all of this interwoven into this fabric…

all of these words making lines making this story that i'm in…

it has the markings of something incredible.

convinced it's a setup for something greater.

onward and upward

hope rises, much like the temperatures in springtime.

each disappointment met with hopeful expectation.

slow but sure, everything in bloom.

even i.

and then a violent storm… bringing back the remnants of winter.

and it all drops dead.

frost-bitten with shame.

and i beg of you to let me sleep beneath…

and rest here a while.

make it new or bury me with it.

because it all feels like the weather here.

and it's all wearing me out.

like the ink whispered on my wrist.

2011-03-14T15:57:00.002-04:00

does it disturb you to see me like this?

to see me.

to see a book on the table that wants to be read…

not like some smutty magazine with photoshopped fantasies.

the cover screaming at your eyes and hormones

or some newspaper with headlines…

always headlines

never articles.

never conversations.

never chapters and pages.

snap judgements. snap your neck around.

drive thru information.

we're afraid of spending time.

does it disturb you that there's a story to tell?

one that's alive and keeps unraveling.

i'm bored of looking at your cover

and reading the back description and all of the articles and reviews

by trusted, but unknown people…

because really i just want to read you for myself

and not have it interpreted.

i'm happy to learn the language…

i'm happy to sit and be quiet…

while you speak. tell. say. sing. walk.

i l l u s t r a t e

live!

everything that lies beneath.

and with every tight lipped acknowledgement

every weird situation

the text is branded on my skin

the response that: you don't see me.

the response that: you don't want to.

move along merry fool.

even my most extravagant of dreams,

just underneath are quite simple.

a deep current of frustration and pain i harbor and channel into

work and art and… well… this.

recompose it before it decomposes me.

i refuse to settle.
refuse to wither.
to be a victim and shut down and check out…

like. all. the. rest. of. them.

but keep on kicking my bruises

and i'll warn you just before…

but i'm being pushed toward the line of exasperation.

i will throw the next punch.

i will burnout and speed off and recklessly disappear.

because i'm sick with worry.

twisted by envious comparisons.

soul sick and livid with all of this injustice.

overstimulated and uninspired by these dramatic tantrums that are a waste of my time

allowing all these opinions to define me.

dear city, why am i the object of your rejection?

why does it offend you if i should taste affection?

why is my smile distasteful?

what deal do you have with karma that says i'm exempt from recompense?

and what do you have on grace that makes her overlook my downcast face?

God forbid i be a beauty that rests in that.

A beauty that is reveled in and enjoyed…

not taken for granted, advantage, misused, under-appreciated, discarded…

used.

because, all we really want is to be loved in return.

let me love well.

let me be loved.

beloved.

like the ink whispered on my wrist.

march tenth. the tenth march.

2011-03-10T13:59:00.000-05:00

there is this disconnect

and i can't find the right wires

can't pick up the wireless signal

can't sort out the password

i just am.

walking in the door hands empty, palms up, arms open.

hope it's enough.

the talking turned to screaming.

i blasted the sky with my ranting and raving.

if anyone were to see, i'm sure they'd suspect lunacy.

i am the first bird singing in the middle of the night

calling the sun out to play

stirring the rest of the birds from their slumber

but singing from joy? or from sorrow?

singing out of hope or out of despair?

singing in my sleep… at rest

or just calling out in anxiety.

is it just that my screams sound pretty because i've gotten so good at phrasing it?

too polite?

the bottom line is that i don't feel like this is enough.

i keep adding to and subtracting from this genius design.

wrestling my maker.

diminishing his art. comparing to others. afraid to rest in this skin...

where just beneath the surface is something beautiful and teaming with life.

just enough shows to make everyone believe i'm a contented peaceful girl.

but i feel shut up and dormant, like an old abandoned house.

haunted and full of memories craving… groaning to be occupied. for vacancy to be over

and spilling over with laughter instead of melancholy broken furnishings.

passed over, the ghosts are getting angry.

every bone, fibre and strand aches.

and this is why the agonizing silence…

because as soon as i write, it's like the wound splitting open…

the blood released

but reminding me of the reality. of the depth. of the ache…

inviting feeling where there was a numbness.

inviting life to the barren wilderness.

reminding me of just how very livid i am.

a child once again, begging for a crumb of goodness.

begging for these wrongs to be made right.

because i don't want to be forgotten anymore.

adorned with empty promises

like cars without engines.

ever waiting.

my hope is deferred and my heart is sick.

what i heard... [before the dam broke]

2011-03-08T15:02:00.002-05:00

he strummed

and our ears strained to listen beyond the obvious

our heads flooded with a thousand educated guesses at what he might be hearing when he plays those chords, it creates an atmosphere.

nonetheless, i'll speak for myself.

it makes the chaos and tremors of those worries just wailing away in my head subside.

the music makes them quiet.

and maybe that's why i run so hard.

my whole body working together with me to silence the voice of that relentless prima donna singing the worst case scenario

maybe that's why i will escape this quiet sanctuary any chance i get.

remember the first time your heart was broken?

and how the infection made your soul sick?

those vows we make… those fortress building vows… i made them.

rejection and abandonment inspired my heart to wish for nothing more than to disown itself.

i remember wanting to take the word 'stoic' and somehow make it part of my dna.

over and over, plotting the assassination...to shut it all down and become someone else.

but something feels wrong when the gun is loaded and cocked…

the trigger beckons, and i never did have the guts to squeeze it.

and now, the dam struggles under the weight trying to hold back an ocean.

and all of the friends who really see glimpses of what moves behind these brown eyes know that it's only a matter of time.

i am holding myself back.

and when it all falls down…

you'll hear it. you'll see it. you'll feel it.

until then, you'll strain your ears to listen beyond the obvious

and your heads will be flooded with a thousand educated guesses at what i might be hearing when i play those sparse chords…

so real. [surreal.]

2011-03-03T02:04:00.002-05:00

in the last month:

i went home to virginia, as my mom had blood clots on her lungs, was in the hospital for a week and my grandma was sick with a stomach virus.
i too caught the stomach virus.
i got a new tattoo.
someone i thought was lost for good, came back into my little world.
someone i thought hated me, is now a very close friend.
i moved into a new place.
i started a new job.
i got a pair of adidas gazelles and my first raybans
another estranged friend returned.
made an unlikely friend.
talked to my sisters for the first time in a couple of years.
woke up with not-so-mysterious bruises.
drove around in the snow for hours.
had a mini breakdown.
bowled for the first time in a couple of years.
danced in a storm.
drowned in the new radiohead record.
discovered the gooey butter cake at jackson's IS actually better than the cookie dough eggrolls. i know. far. fetched. but so true.
jumped back on the whiskey train.

and i'm pretty certain i've missed a lot.

soon, i'll figure out some sort of emotional response that's beyond a blank stare... stuttering... nervous laughter and/or crying.

until then, goodnight.

pleased to make your acquaintance.

2011-02-28T04:35:00.002-05:00

after nearly 3 weeks, i have internet again.

i'm so stupidly happy about this.

and now that i'm completely moved into my cozy little den,

i just might be back more often.

sunday, february 6, 2011

2011-02-06T02:30:00.003-05:00

chaos.

disappointment.

infinity blues.

i feel like i am treading water...

fighting currents.

fighting myself.

fighting.

and losing.

asking.

access denied.

giving.

stolen.

depleted.

understanding.

offering.

being...

receiving cold shoulders and silence and rejection and judgement.

and i'm just tired...

of everything being the same.

of being disappointed.

i can't sleep.

i can't eat.

i feel miserable when i do both.

so i just keep moving until it all shuts down.

hoping it will all go numb.

because, nothing seems right.

still.

have you fallen asleep?

so, goodnight cruel world. i'll see you in the morning.

2011-01-24T05:49:00.003-05:00

a friend of mine showed up tonight.

i saw her face...

her eyes searched mine...

instantly i lost it.

everything was not ok.

i dragged her to the bathroom of the restaurant, ducked into the stall and cried.

i haven't cried like that in a very long time.

and that is what becomes of opening my heart.

fools on parade. truman show. [help. p-p-p-piglet. me.]

2011-01-23T01:34:00.007-05:00

"i'm not afraid of being hurt..." i said, to both of them.

It's kind of like any illness that's so annoying you wish you were dead. And obviously, if you let it get out of control or don't take antibiotics, it will kill you. But you won't die. It just sucks for a while and you get better. No. I'm afraid of being made a fool of. I'm afraid of looking stupid. I'm afraid of feeling like that dumb, fat, inadequate girl who isn't found attractive or ever loved in return. I'm afraid of something being so clear to everyone else around me, and I am the only one choosing not to see it. That's the real hardcore truth. It's so dumb, but that's how I feel. That is what I'm afraid of. Being a fool on parade in almost every aspect of my life.

she said, "yeah, you need to overcome those ideas. I struggle with them too, but I also have to daily remind myself when it boils down to it, this isn't the truman show, and all that matters is what you feel and think is right... is right."

she said, "the moment you begin to mistrust someone or their feelings for you, a wall goes up. and you don't even realise you're building it. but you are. and it's up. and it causes them to retreat."

this is not the truman show.

but, i can't get these walls down.

i'm right where you want me.

2011-01-16T02:05:00.003-05:00

what a strange day.

and now, wide awake like i have no place to be tomorrow. but this, certainly is not true. it's gonna hurt when the alarm clock goes off. i slept in today, which felt glorious. i had plans i've looked forward to all week... and they all fell through.

i'm noticing this weird superstition is actually becoming the way things go...

everytime i celebrate something or get excited about anything, it will almost immediately be stopped. which is why i tend to be quite non-chalant about many things. my heart is slowly turning to stone. or metal. or something useless.

perfect example...

there is someone i'm awful fond of. he walks in the room, and i've trained myself to be so cool about it. i am focused man. on everything but him. someone else walks in that i'm friends with and i'll jump up and down and hug them tightly and be so thrilled. i am on my way to sabotaging this thing in order not to be hurt.

[oh hidey hiding hiding. whatcha trying to prove? by hidey-hiding-hiding you're not worth a thing]

another example...

i got so excited about having a day off...

and nothing happened.

it was one of those days where you stay in bed, because you can. and then everyone is trying to get their plans together... but they don't really concrete until the same time. which means, you've gone from zero to 110mph in a half hour. and you'll probably be late, because you've been in motionless mode. and now you're having to rush across town. all the plans fall through. and you just get sonic and call it a night and blog. slightly relieved because you're still kind of sleepy. and slightly bummed because nothing panned out, and you hate wasting free time.

my keyboard did seduce me today, and i sang out a few things.

nonetheless. perhaps i needed it.

but then again all my superstitions are preposterous, because i think they're actually defense mechanisms to keep disappointment at bay.

[you're losing the calling that you've been faking. and i'm not kidding. it's damned if you don't, and damned if you do.]

i got real emotional to cat power today.

i dont honestly know what brought it up or why.

all i know, is that a bunch of conversations have echoed each other, and i haven't asked for them. but people are going out of their way to let me know that i'm beautiful. inside and out.

and people are going out of their way to say that i should be steadfast in being myself.

friends. coworkers. strangers. family. a hollywood actress. i mean, everyone.

and i'm like that kid with my ears plugged going... "lalalalalalalala i can't HEAR YOU!"

i've been alone with myself all day.

i think maybe that was a plan that came to fruition by something bigger than myself.

had nothing to do with not wanting me to have a good day off or to have a good time.

but perhaps i needed a day with myself to sing and play it out.

to realise i'm not listening to anyone.

and i'm lying to myself.

i'm just hiding. and making a metal heart.

and it's a worthless image.

i once was lost, but now i'm found. was blind but now i see you.

how selfish of you to believe in the meaning of all the bad dreams.

metal heart, you're not hiding.

metal heart, you're not worth a thing.

in waking. in sleep.

2011-01-11T02:15:00.001-05:00

let's set up the scene.

flashes of conversation.

clips and key phrases.

but i can't even begin or finish a sentence without interruption,

because that would be far too good to be true.

it's like those dreams where you're screaming but nothing comes out.

the ones where you wake up terrified. sweating. sheets undone. bed a mess.

fighting in your sleep.

and so you'll sit very still, armed with technology, fighting off fatigue. coming up with any and every reason not to give in. or pace the room. or stay out far too late. or dance dance dance until the morning sends you to bed like the disciplinarian parent.

because, what's really happening, is that you are afraid to go back in there.

to sleep.

because silence is the court official swearing you in

and unlike those wagging tongues in waking life, your mind will be telling the truth.

the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

telling the truth about how you feel…

what you're afraid of…

what you want…

what you need…

what you think is going on…

what happened...

because, somewhere along the way, the dreams stopped being flights of fancy.

the adventurous planes grounded and are robotic hands putting puzzles together.

taking the old radio apart and putting it back together.

trying a thousand lock combinations.

with the stress of a speed drill.

and it feels like mcgyver.

and just as absurd.

because it's this war with mistrust and cynicsm.

they lie about saying they don't lie.

they tell you you're rising above it,

and there's just a noose around your neck.

which kicks to scenes of the past where the trustworthy ones dwell.

and death stole him.

to new life even, sure. but stolen nonetheless.

and it echoes on those walls the reminder…

there is none to guard me from the frost.

there is none to arrest the trampling feet.

running like a fugitive.

karma has the wrong name, i think.

i tried to spell it out. i couldn't make her understand.

and then i'm all A.D.D.

and refusing to be a victim i stood up on shaky legs. took a step and fell…

wake up and resume dream.

and i'm wrapping my hands to throw punches and hurling bottles that won't break.

i turned to see him there in wait.

defense unnecessary.

"let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth" i said.

"better than wine is your love." he said.

i was his lily among thorns.

he meant it, he said.

i was brave and vulnerable.

affection, like wine, fills you with a little courage.

and in the safety of an embrace, i am met with knives.

no one sees.

no one hears.

lack of evidence like tracks in falling snow

sabotaged by the plows in the morning.

blood-stained hands will go free.

now speak of foolishness to those childlike eyes that once believed

in those words that lost their meaning.

and only in your most condescending and apathetic tones so they fill with tears of shame.

i have met your cold shoulders and your blades.

do not send for me.

send them away.

exeunt.

[yes, all of them.]

good morrow sorrow.

2011-01-11T01:27:00.000-05:00

The snow surprises me a little. And yet, it makes so much sense. It's the times I wish for snow that it won't come. The times I'd rather it not come… the times I am caught in disbelief… the times I shrug off the weather reports, I'll wake up to see it blanketing everything. And so this morning like a chilly extension of my white cozy comforter, there it was. I saw that work was closed, breathed a sigh of relief and went back to sleep. I keep having weird dreams and in them people give me advice. But none of it comes true. All this sleep without assistance. All this sleep propelled by sheer exhaustion. No allergy medications or chemicals telling my head to calm down a little bit right now. Besides, "I don't have the drugs to sort it out." It, being the deep magical sadness that follows me. The one that found me and claimed me and will not forget me irregardless of what encouraging words would be spoken or how often it was told to leave. Everyone has a thorn in their side. I don't propose I'm better off or worse off than anyone else. I woke this morning to the blanket of snow and a livid sea of tears determined to break the banks just beneath the surface. But for getting these words out, I feel it best to sit as quietly as possible, lest the beast unleash itself… he is prone to violence.

This week alone, I could lose track on my fingers the amount of times I've been asked to pray for someone. Or the times someone has asked for advice. Asked me to help keep them alive… And not dramatically, I mean the real, "Goodbye cruel world. Hey. I'm out. No thank you. and on my way, I'm gonna phone a friend to let them know I don't hate them." And out of my despairing heart some words of hope rose up and somehow these friends are breathing still. I am the girl who will be on her proverbial ledge, and instead of being talked down or back into the bedroom to safety, I am always asked to scale the wall to the next floor and help someone else back in, on my way.

There is this song by Laura Marling that haunts me a little… "Why fear death? Be scared of living. Hearts are small and ever thinning. There is no hope ever of winning. Oh, why fear death? Be scared of living."

I haven't prayed in a very long time. Well, that's not entirely true. But all my beliefs are waning. Not waning in the existence of God or spirituality or something. Not that I haven't beheld the movement of the divine in the lives of others in a supremely beautiful way. It's more the whole idea of Love Himself. There is no receiving of him, without giving out. Day after day after day I wake up just wanting to live life in some way that is full of meaning and ripe with love… with him. The small things. The big things. It's not a pursuing of good grand things or of happiness, but this trust that happiness will show up. These sweet little moments will arrive to be savored. Something good will happen when you work hard enough. All of this will pay off… work out. you know? But, day after day after day, my cup runs dry and I am met with swift kicks, rejection, I am passed over, forgotten, used with a thanks. There isn't much reciprocity. I hate being redundant. It bores me. So I stop talking. I stop asking why. I search for ways to change to make this better. My creative little mind runs rampant begging for new perspective. Easy. Only to find that is wrong. Each time I think that I actually mean something to someone, I am taught a lesson.

I always wanted the simplest things to become of my life. I am met with constant "no's"… and sometimes in that catch phrase "not yet". I am given just enough to get by, never more, maybe less. I am trapped. I asked for help to get out. So I changed my prayer to a request for help to get through. So I changed my prayer to a request to help me rest in the midst of the turbulence, to be thankful for what i have in want… So I ran out of ideas of wording it. I am tired of being treated badly. I am tired of feeling worthless. I am tired of writing things like this. I am tired of being stalked by sorrow and shame. And so, I have simply stopped.

I can't give up that quick.

the only one standing in your way is you.

2011-01-07T23:20:00.001-05:00

he started writing again, and he let me see the fragments that escaped his self control. busy-ness has this way of helping one to build a wall of protection. it's the perfect guise for wall building because you're not exactly meaning to. just the acceleration for time. and time well spent. studying. reading. working. productive. but, careful... art will never be held in. it will always find it's way out. and it will always surprise you when it does. and most often, it will kiss you as a beautiful patient wife who's waited for your glance. she won't make you feel guilty, but you'll feel it in the depths of her touch... because you'll realise you've missed out.

he started writing again and it made me believe. like some new report had been released on the proof that goodness exists. that love still blooms in the hearts of men. that affection can possess a man's mind and cause him to sing like a fool in the street.

yesterday, i walked into starbucks and i told a story to my friend. she cried for my heart.

today, a friend saw me in a way that made me both fascinated and frightened.

he said i wasn't using my emotional range.

he likened me to some dangerous raging fire that if set loose could set the world ablaze.

he said he hopes he's around when i finally let go and release it.

the scary part is, i think he could be right.

he also likened me to the white swan vs. black swan.

the scary part is, i think he could be right.

our hearts are strong.

our hearts are fragile.

we take a lot.

but we'll only take so much.

sorry it's been a while.

like the first friend, i spoke of... i've been busy.

but it will find its way out in spite of myself.

...like this goldfish bowl is the whole sea, see?

2010-12-26T16:24:00.004-05:00

Think back to the time when you were in elementary school and someone was so mad at you that you almost wanted to just quit. And you begged your parentals to let you stay home, or just homeschool you or something. If you can even remember a vivid time when this happened (because it's probably a very foggy memory in which the details are not so much around, but the feeling is there)... your parents probably sent you to school anyway and told you something about how "this too shall pass" and how you can't "run away from every problem". Things like that. It never stops or changes though. It will happen again through highschool, your first job, your second, and pretty much all of them... and the more your tendency to be a people pleaser, the higher the tendency to run into such things. Everytime one of these situations of dramatics arises, that usually isn't easily shaken, because a job or something ever so important weighs in the balance, your parents or grandparents or friends or confidants will echo the same sentiments as the first times around... except often with my guy friends these days, the language is a bit stronger. They're usually quick to dismiss the actions of the other person in question and dumb it down to the fact that they are maybe not quite human, and they shouldn't be given a second or third or 4th thought. ALL of this has always been a real esteem booster, when it happens, but i dont ever know what to do with it. It sounds nice. It sounds easy. But, I'm not a boy. I'm a very sensitive girl who HATES when people are remotely upset with her.

I am also, apparently a very slow learner.

I was nearing the point of tears from a current situation, and wanted nothing more than to just clock out and peace out on the whole night. A guy I work with stopped me and said that wasn't the best of ideas, and not to let one person ruin my time. That I was better than all that. I listened. He gave me a man hug, later... and another made me some food. It's all I needed for that few minutes, anyway. Since then, my holiday has had this weird backdrop of pure anxiety about going back to work. Last night, a friend of mine, a darling dashing baron... echoed the above sentiments with the more colourful of language choices and then said, "rise above it."

I immediately thought, eh. They're all saying the same things. but, really?! Easier said than done.

And then I wondered why it was so hard after all?

Because really, when 5 years pass, ok. 5 months pass, I'll have forgotten the details of this situation. All I'll remember are the people I wanted to be with after my shift was over.

The question really is...

WHY AM I LIVING LIKE THIS GOLDFISH BOWL IS THE WHOLE SEA?!

because it's not.

Now, I'm a firm believer of being diligent in the small things. Of remembering where you've come from and all of that. But I am very good at making ant hills feel like a mount everest in my mind. And life is hard enough without my brain's fanciful exaggerations.

You give it all you've got. If it turns out well, then... spectacular.

If it doesn't, well... on to the next one.

This is temporal.

Everything cannot be perfect.

I cannot make everyone happy.

I wish I could explain how tired I am.

I feel like I have the flu minus all the symptoms but lethargy and fatigue.

I could sleep all day without any problem. That's how hard I'm running right now.

It will be ok though.

so repeat the mantra.

This is a goldfish bowl.

This is not the whole sea.

a loan.

2010-12-21T03:20:00.003-05:00

beats and rattles draped in thin layers of ice.
call back for returns.
call ahead if you like.
screened calls like answering telephones in the 50s.
because we crave to be found alone.
we were silly that night. foolish clumsy children.
and i should have known better, running in the cold as though immune.
but, forgot on purpose.
you, building your arsenal of ammunition.
it's whatever you make of it.
you invited me to sit here.
i declined.
and in the middle of the night it got cloudy.
and i don't remember anything i'm sure, i'm not sure why.
no one watched the pot.
just the water exploding into a boil.
the pinnacle of resistance stated calmly in your eyes.
i remember the change. the slow merge to something else. from fondness to strength.
but a mean strength. a brute strength. no longer wooing just possessing.
and in that moment where i should've been set alight, i went out.
i checked out.
the pulse shifted… the vacant sign illuminated.
you never knew the difference.
i'd forgotten him.
i'd forgotten you.
i was alone.
i left you there with my body and conversations and hovered above the shame of your tears falling all around that place.
left you to cover up what wouldn't be undone.
on my heel turned and breathed a sigh of relief.
and sang a knowing song that you'd hear when all alone.
you've lost.
i'm gone.
i'm gone.
i'm gone.

ground control to major tom.

2010-12-17T11:13:00.003-05:00

featuring tom. someone who will probably always be dear to my heart.

so proud.

2010-12-17T07:03:00.002-05:00

no sense in crying when you chose it.

you know those things you see coming a million miles away, but you think you'll try it once more to see if it turns out differently?

like getting cocky after a couple of wins.

you let your guard down.

the sky isn't quite dark enough, reflecting all those lights.

all those lights drawing us from our beds into the night.

convincing us we need something til we're blinded to stars and comets and constellations.

i dont even remember the last time i looked up beyond the trees.

hope lifts your head up to connect the dots.

or disconnect.

and i saw that it could mean all that much more and absolutely nothing.

that either we are dust and flaming stars or creations.

i have faltered and am careful and care less.

it's like anyplace this asylum of thoughts.... like anyplace new. anyplace off the beaten path, that looks a bit more or less interesting. seems a bit more dangerous. comes off a bit more insane. you know? one of those.

but it's all the same.

and i'm bored with the same outcome.

it doesn't even hurt anymore. calloused hands grab hold. and yeah, i'm tired. who wouldn't be. but it won't kill me, will it. maybe like cigarettes it kills slow. point is, it's just boring. the same thickheaded self-centered characters entering and exiting. they're good for nothing but background noise and movement. not even worth a mention as the assistant to the grip-boy in the closing credits. and i have become like them. in a headlock. defacing their value in order not to feel too sad.

it is sad.

but you get used to it.

and i'd much rather watch a comedy.

short end of the stick. courtesy of me. [decision making. or not.]

2010-12-15T04:08:00.005-05:00

it seems i keep selling myself short. over and over and over and over.

what happens is i dont believe that ____ or ____ will ever happen to me. that this person or that person will ever notice i am alive. and sure. sometimes these things happen. the point is, that to rid myself of all chances of disappointment, i convince myself that everything is possible for everyone but me. on most things. this is dumb. but true.

it's also what happens when life deals out the stupidest deck of cards everrrr.

at least it feels that way.

maybe it's the best deck ever.

maybe i'll win bigstyle one day.

maybe i never will.

ok but this isn't about go fish or black jack or anything.

this is the sort of blog entry i'll write... read tomorrow... consider deletion... and go back and read again and again, as though someone else wrote it. and maybe someday i'll listen.

i am an incredible girl.

i didn't say perfect.

just incredible.

i didn't say any of the ridiculous fleeting attributes we hang on to it, like christmas tree ornamentation.

i spend far too much time trying to convince people of what they already know or what they already should know.

rather than convincing myself.

and so, if you are a man in my world, know this...

i dont care what's in your bank account. i don't care what your comfy cushy plan is. you have a passion? excellent. you want someone to do this life adventure with? awesome. want that to be me? come get it.

but this is no lotto jackpot. i am not some awesome deal... a happy hour special or even on sale. not damaged goods. more like a luxury model. i am a priceless jewel or a one-of-a-kind-classic-painter's-world-renowned-MASTERPIECE. the kind men would sail the seven seas and slit throats and risk their lives for... the kind of thing the best of the best of the bad guys get involved in some grand heist over. it's an overpriced item. i'm worth it. (thanks loreal.) i am no damsel in distress. i am no princess-brat laying on 20 mattresses being bruised by a pea. i am a world of wonderful things. incredibly strong. incredibly fragile. the wonder of being a woman and the beauty of a woman, is not in and of simply being a female who is alluring or whatever. it's remaining tender in a world that is bent on hardening you. it's remaining strong in a world that praises superficial strength. it's remaining beautiful with a beauty that explodes from within, in a world that adores a fleeting photoshopped perfection. a girl at rest in the eye of a hurricane, inviting others to hide beneath her wings, and yet who is able to take refuge under other wings of safety herself. a partner in crime. a lover. a nurturer. fiercely loyal. childlike...

but grace. full of grace.

a grace and a love not her own.

and seeking to be filled to overflowing with it.

that, and laughter.

i know what i want.

i know what i need.

i know who i am.

in part. all in part.

and the one who recognizes all these things and then some, even better than i...

the one who finds me, whom his soul will love and he will not let me go...

the one who sets me as a seal upon his heart

that's the one i'll choose.

winter romances.

2010-12-13T21:46:00.001-05:00

imagine.

2010-12-09T02:47:00.002-05:00

and i'll ponder all these little things in my heart.

open letter to my friends.

2010-12-05T19:35:00.002-05:00

dear ___________,

i need you.

i don't know how else to say it.

i don't know how else to properly word it.

i don't even know what that looks like... except could we sometimes just get out of the house and be together for a bit? even for coffee or hot chocolates or tea or window shopping or a movie or food or dancing or walking through a park or...

i'm not ok. i've expressed it. you can't fix it. i just need company.

love,

nitasha

why, oh, why do you keep me away?

2010-12-05T18:41:00.007-05:00

I remember sittin' up in my room, very much like the Brandy song. I must've been 15 or so. I had Travis's "The Man Who" on a tape quite literally imported from a friend in London. There was also this Lighthouse Family record that made me want to vomit on cue. I've never understood why the English had this affinity with that group. And, I'm sure they're the loveliest bunch of humans, but really their tunes make my skin crawl. It would be a great torture method for me. That and Natalie Merchant. But, I don't work for NME and this isn't about my ripping defenseless artists a new one.

I went to a private Christian school. Always things to do. Something to study for. Music to practice, some place to be. But, in between, I could be found laying on my bed exploring these new caverns of my mind while Radiohead's "The Bends" played over and over and over and over. That and OK Computer. I used to get lost in all of these albums and the worlds they'd help create in my head. I'd steal away there as often as I could... and make my own words into rhymes. I'd pretend to be someone else. Some glamourous person in love and with friends. In just a moment, this will break and this will start happening. I used to think that over and over to myself all of the time. At school, I was never asked on a date. Ever. I invited an underclassman to our 'extravaganza'-cum-prom, and went solo my senior year. I always had a lot of friends, as I found myself blending along the edges of all sorts of different social circles and scenes. But, I was never part of one thing. Except my friends in England. I was part of their world somehow. In some distant and yet wonderfully close way, I was this exciting novelty that never seemed to wear off. They were mine. I was theirs. Whatever I wanted to be in my head, I was something close to that in actuality to them.

It's nice to say that nothing has changed.

Or is it?

If I need someone... and that person to respond quickly... if I need to be encouraged... if I am in any kind of need at all, I pick up my phone, get on skype... any means of conversing... and one of them from across the sea will jump to my rescue. Almost every. single. time.

I feel lonely in a city full to overflowing with so many friends.

I feel like a stranger in my house.

I miss the proximity of family.

And I ache for home.

A home I cannot get to.

Damn immigration.

And so...

This is just to say that I miss you, friends in England.

This is just to say I love you.

This is just to say that I'm sorry I take you for granted, if it ever seems that I do.

Because ever since I can remember, all I've ever really wanted is a place that I know that I belong. Why am i kept away?

The Bends is playing as I write this.

And it warms me and makes me sad to know everything and nothing has changed.

There must be quite a few things that a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them.

2010-12-04T00:26:00.005-05:00

he dreams of saving me

and everyone is thinking that he might

but know your enemy,

cos i will be on both sides of the fight

he says, "Darling, trust in me. I'll be what they were not."

i said, "i know.

My body will become your house,

and one day you'll forget to come back home."

I'm always mapping out the exits

and the fastest ways to go

Regardless of the way I play,

the same old ghost is running this old show.

I begged him just to let me be.

He just reminded me that life's not fair.

He waited til I loosed my grip,

Then sent me sailing down all of these stairs.

youngfellas. [and other random thoughts]

2010-12-03T22:59:00.008-05:00

I kind of always forget where I am when I'm working there... it's the complete polar opposite of the southern style place where I wait tables.I read something once in one of those ridiculous books that supposedly can tell all about a person by their birth date. One bit of it rang true, and that was something to do with the fact that I'm creative... always getting lost in these imaginings in my head. It can be a good thing, sometimes this irrepressible talent for daydreaming.

Anyway, I feel like I'm in a big city... maybe New York. That would make a lot of sense. It's cold out, and everytime the doors open, I welcome curious faces, confident faces, familiar faces, regular faces... and a blustery burst of cold air they bring with them. It's impossible to smile at one and not the other. So out of route I think I start smiling at the cold. It doesn't feel so festive, though it's lit up like a Christmas cave. It's got that arms length comfort of a big city. And yet, the smiles and the tender tones of speaking give away that we're south of the mason dixon, and you find yourself a bit more at ease. It's a busy little place filled with conversation... Until the kitchen gets it's fires going... The boys start yelling. Those Italian boys. And I keep stealing glances...

This is the part where things get fuzzy. It only helps to embellish my wandering thoughts when the owners walk past. They own the role and speak in New York tongues. I am teleported instantly. And somehow, I feel closer to home. The thrill of excitement that if I step out of these doors, I'll be dwarfed by skyscrapers and swallowed by lights. Cars turn to hasty taxis. And the quiet retreats into swells of conversations all rolling over each other like waves and undercurrents. Inside, I'm adjusting to and getting acquainted with the girls with loud laughs, deep husky voices and starry young eyes... but I'm never sure whether I'll meet the inside of their sarcastic jokes or their cold shoulders. Probably why I tend to retreat to this torrent of thought. The other men are warm. Just warm smiles. Even in the midst of a rush of tables and a check list of a thousand things and steps of service, they will emerge from their tunnel vision, if only for a second... like a submarine surfacing, just to smile at you. A smile that changes the whole demeanor of the room. I like these boys. Most of the girls are hard... lacking a certain softness. And I wonder if it's because this supposed city of hospitality has made them that way... or if they're all transplants from other cities that have bred other girls as such... I wonder at their protective armour as they walk from place to place as though they own the room. Thing is, not many of them are at ease. But, I think it's something only a girl could notice. I wonder if boys notice. I should ask them.

Nevermind, I'm too nervous to ask much of anything... I'm like a child distracted by the first visit to the circus or a carnival. Wide-eyed wonder at the simplest of things... because you aren't exactly looking at just a carousel or carnival lights, but you're immersing yourself into a story... a magical one in which it makes sense. The normal everyday outside of a mall parking lot dissipates, and a world of wonder unfolds. Too much, I think... perhaps I've made a mountain of a molehill here. Nevertheless, I am nervous, and a I am a little starstruck.

I'm the new girl in school trying very hard to make the grade... wanting very much for the other girls to like me. But mostly, stealing little glances over my shoulder at these riotous boys in the class. Er, kitchen.

Imagine a family where the men in the family tree go something like this. Frank Sinatra

is the father of two sons that look like Al Pacino and Andy Garcia...

And these brothers have a few sons... that all work together. Bantering cousins/brothers. Got it? Well, these are the boys in question that have caught my eye... in fact, they keep catching it. My behaviour is elementary. I'm absolutely delighted by them and smiling a bit too much when one of them pays me a bit more attention. By that, I mean, when one speaks to me. I laugh heartily at their jokes and their antics and their ridiculous songs and voices. I am a smitten little kitten. And I probably won't do a thing about it... and neither will they. But I like the look of those boys... and I wish they'd notice I was alive. sigh and cue some broadway musical song.

I do like the way the older gentleman has taken me under his wing. He's like a protective grandpa. I like his stories. I like his accent. I like it when he's working, because even if wires get crossed, I'm his baby girl, as he says. He's quite convincing. He wears suits. He's always so smart looking. (Smart here, being the english term... dapper, perhaps? ok.) He reminds me of someone that would be in a cartoon. His face is expressive. He's equal parts professional and warmth. And I can deal with all of that. I like being protected and looked after, even when I'm perfectly capable of handling something. I've craved that sense of security my whole life... which is maybe why all this oscillation and unsteadiness and all of these inconstant variables are wearing me out. especially relational ones. because when relational consistency is there, the other constant changes feel more like adventure. but when everything is unstable and hope is the thing with feathers evading your grasp, and you wake up with an elephant on your chest every morning, it leaves this unshakable fragile feeling.

I still daydream of being found the loveliest girl in the room... of being won over by one of the handsome ones. Of some fantastic love story unraveling and weaving itself into reality, until it's part of my fabric. It's these little moments of respite that get me through the mundane bits of being a working girl... and then I remember I work with a stunning redhead, and a model that's been on one of those america's next top model spinoff shows, and a gaggle of other sweet young things. HAH!

And on that note, I'll laugh it off as folly and foolishness to amuse you with and say goodnight.

sylvia plath.

2010-12-02T23:54:00.003-05:00

"I had imagined a kind, ugly intuitive man looking up and saying "Ah!" in an encouraging way, as if he could see something I couldn't, and then I would find words to tell him how I was so scared, as if I were being stuffed farther and farther into a black, airless sack with no way out. Then he would lean back in his chair and match the tips of his fingers together in a little steeple and tell me why I couldn't sleep and why I couldn't read and why I couldn't eat and why everything people did seemed so silly, because they only died in the end.

And then, I thought, he would help me, step by step, to be myself again."

- Sylvia Plath from 'The Bell Jar'

I feel like she wrote me in a matter of sentences.

It explains absolutely everything.

i gotta bring you back to life. you and your heart. your heavy heart.

2010-12-02T10:43:00.003-05:00

so proud of these boys.

been dancing around my room all morning to this.

again.

treats from summer. [i wish he was my boyfriend]

2010-11-29T18:05:00.001-05:00

ok but, i really do, though.

i would just really like...

2010-11-24T10:25:00.000-05:00

to eat a cupcake.

i'm being stolen.

2010-11-23T01:13:00.003-05:00

evolution. [or reinvented by canvas]

2010-11-22T00:03:00.003-05:00

we looked like we'd just fallen from the sky.

do you know what that's like?

i heard a crack, just then.

be careful.

one of these times they'll push too far.

one of these days i'll completely disappear.

i look the same. but something's shifted.

anyway, we shot higher and higher until the engines cut off.

in attempts to stall.

i felt myself passing out.

she's always offering good advice and holistic remedies.

i am forgetful and wooed by science.

scorned by science.

in the name of it all. survival of the fittest.

or some poor excuse for selfish behaviour.

a friend of mine gave me a painting, and on it are the words, "they liked me better dead."

but that's not true is it.

i am whatever you say i am./not./am./not.

so if i can take the same 26 letters and reorder them...

if i can take the same words taught to me and rearrange them...

if i can take the same 88 keys and transpose them...

then i will take these bones and reinvent them.

i will take these tears and bury them.

i will take this heart and veil it.

you'll see glimpses and no more.

tell what she was like, because this one won't leave a trace.

some vacant memory of a well-meaning piece of carbon.

weary light.

once brave. now sighed.

and the sky swallowed her whole.

little joy(s).

2010-11-21T17:08:00.005-05:00

ok. let's talk about this.

it's a beautiful day out. my team won. (the redskins). yes i am a redskins fan. and when they play, it's the only time i care about nfl or any american football for that matter. let's be real. i mostly watch the superbowl for the half-time performance and the commercials.

this is a recipe for a good day. except that i worked today.

nope. no no no. not what you're thinking. i am thrilled to be working today. i'm thankful for that sweet table of three with the precious moments doll eyes who ordered carrot cake and said i was beautiful. i'm so grateful for the tiredness invading my body to cause some sort of over-emotional response in the form of a blog that will probably go deleted. i'm thankful for 2 jobs. one that i'm trying ever so hard to master.

what am i referring to then? i am frustrated with the fact that, in my life, a lot of times, it seems that hard work and diligence are not rewarded... except that it makes you too exhausted to have an anxiety attack before bedtime. kind of. ok no it doesn't. it just makes sleeping feel really good. i dont want anyone's pity or sympathy and there are many things that will go unmentioned in the public blog forum. but i am tired of trying. tired of giving 200%... embracing constructive criticism, being the perfectionist that i am, and getting absolutely nowhere fast. of working hard to pay your dues, and getting the short end of the stick almost each and every time you go the extra mile.

hi. how can i help you? smile smile smile. what can i get for you? how can i be for you? how can i make you feel amazing today? service is my job. it's something i deeply enjoy. and it's super awesome when you get paid. and even more awesome when people reciprocate. i feel guilty for even typing that i'm feeling empty, depleted and unfulfilled. it only leads to my being angry and questioning myself.

i'm tired of people trying to relate to me, when they're internalizing and spending 90% of their time inside their own heads, and forgetting they've not communicated this to their friends. and so everything comes out in clips and phrases. and so, though they may relate to my feelings, their solution lies before them. just a matter of sitting down and making this or that adjustment. which they won't until they're good and ready. because their emotional senses block their practical abilities. and let's face it. sometimes it's much easier to feel down than to push past and make something happen. but imagine you push past and nothing happens. again. and again. and you are patient. and you ask for advice. and finally, you just want to throw something, because...

IT.

WHATEVER IT IS.

JUST.

ISNT.

WORKING.

YOU.ARE.STILL.LOSING.

but refusing to quit.

aw, you sweet little chum. A for effort. ra ra ra and all of that.

i'm tired of showing up. not for the sake of showing up, but knowing that there are days when i need someone to show up for me, and they will not. pulling back or cutting people off is silly and impractical...

which brings us to relationships. boy and girly lovey ones.

i want my partner in crime around. whomever the hell that is. WHICH feels more like the equivalent of some sort of disney princess happily ever after wish upon a falling star whispered to my conscience cricket friend named jimminy, last name christmakuh who talks to me on my windowsill. though i don't look at such things with rose-coloured glasses. meanwhile, i thought attention from boys would make me feel better. it doesn't. and at the moment, it's making me freak out and retreat further into hiding. i miss one. but i am out of sight; out of mind. and it sucks. and it hurts some. but it's nothing to analyse or question. just hang out. wait it out. or whatever. i'm fine with being single. i am bored with being teased that my bff has just arrived. i wish these suckers would stop wasting my time and or starting what they can't or don't intend to finish.

i am on a carousel with the most annoying song playing.

i cannot make it stop.

i cannot get the operator's attention.

i cannot jump off.

i just have to take it with a smile... and start being happy for the fact that it's a nice day to be stuck on a carousel.

and i'm tired of doing that.

i'm tired of being ignored and unmissed.

i'm tired of feeling like i dont matter.

my heart hurts. and i'm so angry.

and what's worse is that overall unhappy people who are bored with their lives make it their aim to steal the little joys from people around them.

the little joys that get me through... nice and slow. one day at a time.

anyway, it's sunday november 21st. and that's how i feel. and i want it to change.

please, don't be long. please, don't you be very long.

2010-11-19T02:36:00.002-05:00

please, don't be long.

for i may be asleep.

two roads diverged in a yellow wood

2010-11-19T02:07:00.003-05:00

all of this will either kill me or make for something amazing.

astounding, even.

and, i've got something to say, my friends...

i will never lay down without a fight.

find some beautiful place to get lost.

2010-11-17T15:18:00.002-05:00

i like books. and i mean, a whole lot.

good thing my housemate has pretty much all of the books i've been meaning to read, but haven't had the chance.

i'm gonna read like a kid in bookit.

descent.

2010-11-15T01:01:00.008-05:00

ascent.

the sweet lift. gentle and sure.

alighting. no striving.

none.

but the descent.

cruel and uncertain.

trying.

like those dreams that won't stop coming.

and you wake up angry and hot and...

and.

and?

it's maddening.

because i chose. i made my inner choice.

as if the gods are cruel.

as if the universe could hear the silent resolve.

down it spun.

down upon my gaping lungs.

hurled to the floor like a castaway.

wretch.

no?

ignored? it equals a decline.

wayward one.

what then?!

WHAT THEN?!

explained everything and nothing.

in sleepless nights.

in valid texts.

in poetry and prose.

in quotes and plagiarism.

in hysterical laughter.

in tearful confessions.

in all ways. honest.

in brave defiance of all the disappointment i have ever known.

i stood there, brazen.

i laid there, shaken.

i sit here.

d i s m i s s e d .

u n l o v e d .

u n r e q u i t e d .

u n k i s s e d .

and u n m i s s e d .

it rages like a swell of melancholy madness flying up to meet the sky. to challenge its breath. to question its heights. the sound of your favourites multiplied by passion to what sounds like voices of angels and broken souls singing with them. and echoes of past and all my present want. they sing. they sing out. they sing soft. they sing long.

and i would just as easily question the cruelty of the silence, as throw myself headlong into the comfort of violence. but no resolution. no answer. just wait.

fear swallowing my hope in love.

love so grand.

love so great.

and blackest sky brings its sickening wane.

the dismal forebodings of the beat of my veins.

i am just this. or that. or nothing. or much.

i am simply a girl fallen...

it is not aloud.

not aloud.

not granted for me.

descent to the valley.

descent from these heights.

because the letters i'd write would choose what is right.

but it would dash me to pieces sooner than enfold me in it.

you

have

not

been

paying

attention.

there is nothing to be done.

nothing at all.

i bloomed. i moved to love.

too soon.

it called my name to send me away again.

i blossomed.

i moved to love.

all for naught.

there's hope in the air; there's hope in the water, but no hope for me your last serving daughter.

2010-11-11T13:04:00.004-05:00

careful little steps. heart beating like a bird. and if i concentrate ill slow it. but it's the pattern and rhythms of blood rush. of heart swells. inside everything is fast as chaos. faster than gravity. and outside it moves slow like molasses. i am no guru. i cannot reverse it. fathomless depths gape like wounds below. calling my name to come dwell there. forget the sting and move on, i say. onward and upward toward the healing. but every single day you are greeted with the first careful little step. there is no floor… just a tightrope. move slow. teeter upon the edge of being lost. or something. it is a curse handed down to you. a curse that has left you. a curse broken and deleted. but not, really. because it all takes the same cycle. the same wolf in sheep's clothing. and in the next dream, the good parts get longer, the climb is higher, the sweet is sweeter. and the fall will dash you. but you'll never die of it. it's enough to put you through hell, and not enough to kill you. not enough to cripple you. enough internal injuries to make you remember every time you breathe. but every one thinks you should be fine. and so, let's pretend that i am.

there is this kid in my class who passes notes to me. he scrawls them whenever he has a moment. decorates his books with commentaries for me. so each time he opens them to read along or study, i hear what's in it, but i can't help but see what note has been added. he's the first conspiracy theorist i've ever met. he makes me mistrustful of all that i've believed in. he also tells me how he sees me in the most poetic of ways. and if you're expecting shakespeare-like odes of beauty, my friends, you are mistaken. he elaborates upon my ugliness. suggests clothing to hide me better. to hide my shame. he paints the paper bags i walk around in. and makes a mask for my face. "look. you want this to stop hurting? it won't. it's ok. just hide it. hide you. stop talking. stop singing. stop moving. be silent, dear one. in this, you'll do the world the greatest of favors. just let them use you. you're worth nothing but to take care of people. you are rather good at that. you take care of them and help them to feel better with songs. let the men have their way. let them lead you on. you don't think they'd mean it, do you? no self-respecting man would love you. and you comfort the women. you're good at encouraging. so, let go of your dreams. relinquish them to this God you believe in. because you are misled. He wants them because you weren't meant to have them. You take care of other's children. you are a maid in the grand caste system of this world. so work harder and get those silly stories of princes and happy endings out of your head. this is reality. you're shooting for the moon, child." i think he's an idiot. but i believe every word he says.

these friendships are like terminal illnesses. these relationships much the same. everything has an expiration date… you cannot control when. but it will come. they will leave you in the end. you're still in the room, but the door has slammed. only difference is, i don't ask you to stay anymore. i won't beg you not to go. do us a favor, and stop wasting my time that i'll have to pay back to keep us on some sort of life support.

my body slides between the sheets each night and longs for some sort of meaning and freedom. i bite my mouth in my sleep from frustration. crying and fighting… fighting myself. good thing i'm imaginative. i'll create new reasons to exist here. and teach myself to lie so that when you ask how i'm doing… i 'll say fine in a believable sort of way. stoic little maid that won't give up. and bury it all in songs.

and someday, it just might feel ok. good thing some sort of warrior resides in the bones of this body.

december 3rd.

2010-11-10T21:48:00.007-05:00

i know what you're thinking.

out of character for nitasha? yep. nevertheless...

I CANNOT WAIT TO SEE THIS FILM!

catch a boat to england, baby.

2010-11-09T22:37:00.003-05:00

Living is a gamble, baby,
Loving's much the same.
Wherever I have played,
Wherever I throw those dice,
Wherever I have played
The blues have run the game.

and if i leave, you know, i wouldn't leave a trace.

2010-11-09T22:33:00.001-05:00

new things written...

2010-11-08T13:22:00.002-05:00

The disapproval writ on his face

I said, You're much too young to be stuck in your ways

Having trouble keeping pace

With your fast talking stories

and glorious claims

Show me your purple heart

Tell me the tales behind your battle scars

You can only lie but so far

Those untrained hands will shoot wide of the mark

I said, one if by land

And two if by sea

An army of cowards

To rescue me

One, if by land

Two, if by sea

And shame for the one

Who makes a fool out of me

When dawn broke the window

And shattered the glass

I woke with a start

And waited in bed

I loathed all the witnesses

chanting their chords

Try harder. Be Better.

And give us some more.

I said, one if by land

And two if by sea

An army of cowards

To rescue me

One, if by land

Two, if by sea

And shame for the one

Who makes a fool out of me

lady wisdom.

2010-11-06T23:03:00.001-04:00

Today my grandma said I needed to find a good Jewish boy.

and there's that. i'm about to convert.

it's hard to accept yourself as someone you don't desire.

2010-11-06T03:29:00.003-04:00

i have never felt so ugly... so used... and so unwanted in such a very long time.

"for our question is: 'Am I Lovely?"

and to be rejected is to hear a resounding. NO. "

i hear 'no' like a cd that's broken and skipping.

if a new heart has been created in me. if a new palace created from the ashes of my heart... then, a new war has been declared. and an atomic bomb has just been dropped on it. knowingly or unknowingly, many hands have helped set this in motion.

today i was minding my own business at one of my favourite places in east nashville. a song came on, and i literally had to excuse myself and run to my car to cry.

my heart is sick, friends. i am not ok at all.

"there's a low low feeling around me and a stone cold feeling inside. i just can't stop messing my mind up... wasting my time."

new. [there's nothing new under the sun.]

2010-11-05T03:32:00.003-04:00

"Life's a corkscrew that can't be straightened,
A minus that won't add up."

it's one of those strange things. one of those jagged little pills, the book of ecclesiastes. a thing that is so full of truth that it makes your soul ache. and yet it feels good to be understood... to find your heart written out in ancient texts. you don't feel so crazy if the guy credited with being the wisest man in the world felt exactly the same as you.

i was promised newness.

and as of yet, it's all the same.

nothing has changed.

i am teetering on the edge of mistrust. distrust.

whatever. trust is fading quickly.

it's a different scene. a different act. a different cast of characters.

but it's the same story playing out again.

will it always be this way?

you know they like to knock me down, but i don't stay down for very long.

2010-11-04T01:21:00.007-04:00

i wrote another song... or two this evening, and even began composing a piano piece, as well. it seems there are these wells of emotion that are begging me to tap them and turn them into something. but i feel like it's a bit like harnessing the sea. and i'm a bit afraid of what i'll find there. i'm so used to being able to explain how i feel. to paint a picture with words or notes.

instead i'm finding a thousand things are true. but they are contradictory.

i found myself ready to leave this town. or making plans of escape.

i found myself making plans to dig my heels in and seize the day and make the best.

i got in my car and drove with the intention of getting lost.

i found little pieces of myself to the backdrop of madison tennessee.

(not to mention a few places i've wondered where they are)

i am falling in love with him.

he has my attention.

he has lost my respect.

i am absolutely terrified and mistrusting.

i have this innate sense that i am being made a fool of.

i have this sense of safety.

i miss living with my family.

i know that my grandma and i have a healthier relationship when we aren't in the same house.

i miss having a dinner companion.

i want to sleep in tomorrow morning.

i want to wake up early and run and then perhaps crawl back into bed.

i miss my cushy job.

i dont miss the commute stress.

i hate catch 22s. and feeling like i've limited mobility.

i'm in my 20s. i'm single. i've no family of my own. the world is my oyster. but i'm trapped.

i want to paint my face and express myself/hide my vulnerability behind fashion.

i could care less about makeup and would rather don black tights and a shirt and call it a day.

i want to whisper.

i want to shout.

i want to speak plainly.

i'm sick of hearing the sound of my own voice.

i feel understood.

i feel misunderstood and alone.

i feel used.

i feel appreciated.

i feel pulled in a hundred directions and yet like a solitary motionless creature in the middle of the earth absolutely lost in a black hole.

i feel numb.

i feel overstimulated.

i want to quit.

i cannot stop.

looking at this photograph by nick knight made me miss an old lover.

nick knight was one of his favourites.

maybe i miss being a lover.

i miss being someone's favourite girl.

i hope he's well.

i wonder if it hurts him.

i can't remember his face./i wish i could forget.

i wonder if i'll ever be loved.

i wonder if i'll ever allow myself to be...

i wonder if i'll ever allow myself to trust again.

"i'm comin out..."

i'm withdrawing.

this song is so nostalgic. it's like a warm blanket...

don't let me go.

chipping nail varnish.

2010-11-02T11:54:00.004-04:00

so in case anyone else was wondering, i was a 60s... sort of a factory girl, if you will. miss sedgwick was probably the muse for many things. nonetheless... that was that.

i decided, however, to be a cat for work...

everyone is talking about the mumford & sons show.

it makes my heart fly up in my throat and then drop to my shoes.

sort of like being on a roller-coaster. absence makes the heart grow fonder, i suppose.

and i really wish my heart felt warm and not roller-coaster-ish at present.

glad you all enjoyed it, though.

meanwhile, my nail varnish/polish is chipping. i hate that a lot. but i'm always incredibly lazy about taking it off.

it seems i've made it by the skin of my teeth this month. you know, with the bills bills bills. but then again, not exactly.

in general, i feel like something has got to give.

somehow i have the feeling that the 'something' is probably me.

(remember in the old bugs bunny cartoons when someone would say... "i have a feeling someone is about to get hoit [hurt]... and that someone is prrrobably me." hahaha

i'm doing a lot of striving.

my best friends and even my grandma have told me i need to stop.

one-a-those easier said than done things, eh? yes.

i had a dream the other night, that i was looking in the mirror and i couldn't see myself straight. i was wearing these crooked glasses, and i couldn't fix them. every pair i'd try on were wrecked and i couldn't see myself clearly at all. i saw everyone else just fine, but myself... so distorted.

everything about that dream is true.

i just want to hide... and take this nail varnish off.

and sleep, and not wake up with an elephant on my chest and bees in my stomach.

in other news:

i like the new n.e.r.d record. it's realllllll fun.

i'll probably be listening to it all day.

happy halloween.

2010-10-31T02:41:00.000-04:00

walk alone. [company showed up]

2010-10-30T04:59:00.005-04:00

oh dear god. it's 4am and i'm wide awake. please remind me who i am!

i was out this evening for girl talk with amanda/dinner at one of our favourite places and then we went for some drinks with some neurologists and matt. yes. epic. after all of this, mike came out of hiding and decided to join us.

daniel the neurologist was almost a psychologist. so upon noticing a girl who was painfully thin... and i mean, paaaaaainfully and scarily thin, these boys jaws hit the table and they began to gape. daniel, then, began to explain the medical reasoning behind such eating disorders. much of which i already knew. but it's all sort of down to an element of control when your self-esteem has gone awry and anxiety sets in. finally, the boys, for the second time this evening, began to discuss things they love about women/appreciate in their wives. it was nice to overhear that conversation.

i have stopped writing and reverted to pretty pictures for fear that i get too deep and too debbie downer-ish. i'm trying my best to be 'onward & upward'. but money has me in a headlock that insights swearing... and sometimes i feel like nothing in the world is gonna help me now. (thanks esser.)

but tonight, i got some things off my chest. i remembered this blooooog, this space of internetland isn't about my looking awesome, but rather my telling the truth. the fact is, that i have had to actively remember this week that i have value as a human. and no one has a clue that it's going on. it's absolutely silly the things we really feel and are convinced of when we say them out loud. but, it's true. i've felt like a worthless piece of crap. meanwhile, i had a dream last night explaining that quite clearly. that my vision of myself is incredibly distorted. (oh gee. really? that's a surprise.)

this evening, i had a break from that. i felt like the most beautiful girl in the world. it wasn't just being called beautiful. it wasn't just being acknowledged for talent. it was all of those things, and the fact that i was enjoyed by my friends. not for any reason whatsoever, except that i exist.

i needed that more than i can say.

i needed a little encouragement (thanks to a wonderful chat with iain, the day got off to a good start, i'd say.)

i just needed a little reminder that i'm not a commodity or a flavor of the week or a novelty that will surely wear off.

today was a really nice day off. and it was nice to feel like a lovely girl.

it was nice to feel a bit more like myself.

p.s. allergies are wack.

p.s.s. i said wack?

p.s.s.s. i can't ever remember what shade of foundation i wear. (oh probably because i dont wear it very often.)

p.s.s.s.s. why is it that i'm always matched up at a different shade evvvverytime?

p.s.s.s.s.s. tomorrow is the first of halloweeny celebrations.

p.s.s.s.s.s.s. i got a wig and chopped it. pictures to come.

babe.

2010-10-29T11:10:00.003-04:00

i'm pretty sure if you look up the word, 'babe'... this face will come up.

also, thanks mark ronson, for the tunes.

luna.

2010-10-24T22:37:00.005-04:00

last night, i lost my mind.

anger surfaced and found its home in well-formed words, which ranted and raved and this heart sang a song of fury and weakness. tears came. the kind that prick your eyes. screaming left the throat sore. that ache, that wailing, that frustration, that deep groan of the soul that refuses to be quieted. the one that questions the existence of heaven while declaring that a touch from it is the only thing that will do. sometimes those moments of absolute violent honesty are necessary to a soul like mine.

last night i lost my mind.

something shifted for better or for worse.

i feel like a drill sergeant for the special forces has pushed me to my limits and handed my arse to me on a platter, only to show me, we've only just begun... and i have more in me than this.

why is losing or failure an option?

last night, i lost my mind.

and it may have been just what i needed.

hungry bunny. [count your blessings]

2010-10-21T03:33:00.006-04:00

i was sitting on the porch at crema today, reading an article on happiness/contentment in elle magazine. that is, after the one about this new-fangled lipo for random places like the knees. nevertheless, this article followed by the one on emily blunt really got me thinking. i mean, to the point that a guy was walking down the street with headphones on, rapping... just ambling along in his own groove. and it warmed my heart a little, because despite whatever potentially was going on, he looked so content. and i wondered if he was, or if it was just my creative imagination projecting on the situation.

the point is that, i've been a very unhappy girl as of late. and it sort of doesn't make sense. i've just moved back to nashville. i'm surrounded by amazing friends. i have a place of my own. i found a job rather quickly. there are a few other things blooming here and there. but, all i can think about is how i am getting by the skin of my teeth financially, how i'm walking on eggshells and i'm afraid of everyone (see last post), and how i am not in london. sigh.

i was talking with clive the other day and just had this realisation... er was reminded that london is absolutely where i want to be. even if i just live there for 6 months... i have to do it. it's not some random passing thing. you can't blame it on the fact that this boy has my attention or that i just have my heart set on this or that opportunity. i have been madly in love with england since about 12 years old. i haven't been able to shake it for 15 years. uh. clearly, i'm not playing around with some whim. unfortunately a thousand things play into my not being there. i'm working toward it. and while i'm here in the us... as a citizen of the united states of america, the place i wish to call home, (nashville) i am calling home.

the problem is when my vision gets distorted, and the thing i'm passionate about... my hearts desires, my pursuit of these dreams bigger than myself, suddenly become all about me... i'm acutely aware of the impossibilities. suddenly i am my own worst critic, and not in a good way... and then i am wailing on myself yet again for not making a straight a grade that only i am holding myself to. dont get me wrong. this is going to take work, not just sitting on my arse twittling my thumbs, wishing and hoping and dreaming. thing is, i'm not afraid of that work.

i'm afraid of and tired of a lot of work with nothing much to show for it.

it's just the hurry i am in... the constant discontentment... the mistrust... and for what? anxiety attacks, low self-esteem, insecurity which leads to all sorts of stupidity. i'm only fooling myself if i believe for even a moment that there is a safe way to move through life... that i can engage, i mean, really engage with other human beings... that i can stay open and real and alive and not get hurt or disappointed.

now, let's be real here. i'm super frustrated with this standstill. i am angry with people not coming through. i am tired of the feeling that for every door that opens, i get 2 slammed in my face. i am tired of crying and being so well acquainted with melancholy. i am tired of trusting just to be let down again. but in the meantime, i have a lot to be thankful for. we are moving toward the thanksgiving season, after all. but much of the time, it's hard to even get excited or thankful, because rather than blessings in our hands, it feels like carrots dangled in front of us that make us keep moving, but will eventually be snatched from grasp.

and i am a hungry bunny.

which brings me back to this whole concept of resting in the tension.

it also reminds me of the parable of the talents.

perhaps it isn't about investing money with abandon.

maybe there's another way of taking it.

maybe it's about investing ourselves.

maybe it's about loving extravagantly.

maybe someone figured out, it's much easier to just maintain. shut down. hold it together. engage, just enough in this world. you keep moving, but play it safe.

but it just doesn't make for a good story to say, "i lived. i gained nothing. it cost me nothing. i said hello. they said hello back. i tried. oh well." it's the "almost" story.

maybe the first guys in the parable lost a few times before they made a profit. maybe we get our hearts broken, while learning to love well. maybe we are tempted to lose heart and grow weary on the journey to making something bigger than us happen.

if i keep moving forward and i enjoy what's around me every step of the way... if i love extravagantly. if i give all. if i don't withdraw and i stay alive and all of these things. well, no one will ever hear the story of nitasha jackson and say, "gosh. she didn't even try. she settled. that was boring character in a boring story. she could've been something special, but decided to settle down instead. her life was safe. that's nice. yawn."

no.

no!

i guess what i'm saying is, this sucks. it's hard. but i'm learning to be thankful for what's in my hands. not to settle for second best, but not to disregard or be ungrateful for what i have. i guess i'm learning to be content in all situations while running this race, so to speak. because contentment keeps the hopelessness at bay in our pursuit of happiness, and joy is the strength to keep going... one day at a time.

it's a shame shame shame. baby, it's a crying shame.

2010-10-19T04:17:00.003-04:00

i have no idea why i'm awake.

except to tell you (dear reader) that i have been allowing worry and anxiety to jack up my world.

a friend said to me today, "it's so hard for you to settle, because you're walking on eggshells around everyone... so concerned with what everyone thinks of you."

i was having coffee with another friend the other night, and we were talking of many things. and suddenly i had this moment of realisation that, i am constantly referencing my need to love people better. i am constantly critiquing my ability to pour out my heart. the thing is, i'm really not so good at receiving. i find it really really difficult to just relax in most relationships. because as soon as love or affection or whatever is communicated back to me, i begin to prepare for the withdraw. in my head, i become acutely aware of the fact that the person in question will soon discover whatever it is that has been discovered by everyone else who has ever left my world, and that they too will leave.

just typing that makes me realise how silly it is.

it doesn't stop it from being any less true.

i'm tired.

and i would very much like this cyclone to stop.

(to be continued...)

those songs that spring from conversations...

2010-10-14T11:48:00.002-04:00

it's only just bloomed lately

it's in the words, dear

pull me out of shadows

pull me out of here

i have asked the minutes

not to move so fast

they had no time to listen

stealing glances as they passed

tell me slowly

all you can

say the truth

and i'll understand

i'll let myself go for you

and if i breathed my secrets

and laid them down beside your ear

would you pull me out of shadows

or send me far away from here

your arms are strong around me

and quiet down the storm inside my head

it will not overcome me

or steal away the words that you have said

tell me slowly

all you can

say the truth

and i'll understand

i'll let myself go for you

for a minute there, i lost myself.

2010-10-12T12:02:00.005-04:00

it seems i lost the plot again today

all the trust i kept here ran away

no matter how hard i try, i still leave a trace

i can't cover up what i can't erase

i need a love that chases out the fear

and something's missing when you aren't here

so i could just let go this time and see

what could become of you and me

promises left broken in the night

what should be easy is always such a fight

ill open up the door and let you in

but if you don't hold tight i'll escape again

i need a love that chases out the fear

and something's missing when you aren't here

so i could just let go this time and see

what could become of you and me

can't you feel the knife?

2010-10-11T01:27:00.000-04:00