Friday, October 02, 2009

September: The beginning of a new year.

I recently celebrated my 24th birthday, it falls on the 23rd of September. Which is the day that follows the first day of autumn. This has been my favorite season for as long as I can remember. Although, this summer in Minnesota was so mild that I didn't get the chance to get sick of the heat and humidity. The cold came on fast this year, there was no transition time between summer and fall, and the change of clothing that goes along with it. Of course the beautiful colors and the massive changes in my surrounding scenery are still enjoyable.
I know that after my birthday comes October, or shall I say Halloween. Now that I have a three year old nephew in my life, I have taken a liking to this holiday. In years past while I was growing into a young adult, I didn't give it much thought. Except it was a holiday, therefore, a reason to have a party and drink too much. For the past four Halloweens my sister and I have tried to start a tradition of carving pumpkins with my nephew Suede.
Before I know it, Thanksgiving is rounding the corner. I love, love, love Thanksgiving. I live such a blessed life and have so many reasons to give thanks. I spend most of the fall season thinking of all the things I am so thankful for this year. The ending of fall is bittersweet. I love to watch the first snow of the year. It is always so enlightening to see all the now dead grass and leafless trees get a beautiful new look when the first snow covers them. I can sit for hours and watch it snow on this particular occasion.
It seems that most people use the end of the year, also known as New Year's Eve/Day to take inventory of their lives over the past twelve months. What did they accomplish? How did the fail? What things have changed? I on the other hand, do this mental checklist in the fall. Some time in between my birthday and Thanksgiving. I have a much more positive outlook on life during this time. Compared to Christmas time and the new year rapidly approaching. Those holidays are my least favorite. I will get into that on another day, because today I want to make a list of my goals for this upcoming year.

1. Get my divers license reinstated.
2. Buy and insure a car.
3. Find a permanent job that provides a steady income.
4. Quit smoking- completely!
5. Obtain my GED
6. Enroll in and start college courses.
7. Have a steady workout out routine.

Too be continued...

Sunday, March 29, 2009

There is a rock in my shoe, and I am trying to fly.

I can't sleep, I can't even think.
My life is just water, dressed in pink.
As I say goodbye, I hate the sound.
I lost my mind, but now it's been found.
I hear my heart, as it begins to pound.
I know someday I will come back around.

My stomach yells and my brain screams.
I'd know myself better, if I knew what this means.

The voice in here never says goodbye,
she just sits in my head and tells me to die.
Fighting and screaming, and making me cry.

I've got so much emotion, I am crying.
Too much too handle, I think I am dying.
I need help, I do admit.
Or some day soon I may have a fit.
I just don't care about the things that should matter,
My brain is insane; Am I making myself sadder?

I tried my hardest, now I am done.
For if I try harder I will look dumb.

No more of these people,
No more of this place.
Because I have just come down with a new kind of case.
In my head I am blue,
I just called to talk to you.
But you disagree, you don't understand.

It's raining outside, just like in my head.
I'm sitting here thinking, alone in my bed.
Wish I could say more, than what's already been said.
I know it's not right to wish I were dead.

I sleep all day, I sleep all night.
In my head, there's this constant fight.
My legs are big, and my pants too small.
I'm on a cliff, and I hope to fall.

Is this a night in heaven, or a day in hell?
I get so loaded that I can't really tell.

This is me, letting go.
It's okay, don't tell me no.
See my hand, it's waving goodbye.
See no tears, I will not cry.

*Originally written in 2001

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Another lesson from Sam.

My eyes; alittle red
My lips alittle cracked
My lungs; alittle dark
And my heads alittle whack

My hearts alittle broke
My knuckels; alittle bruised
My heads alittle high
and my souls alittle used

My words; alittle slurred
My drink; alittle strong
My cup; alittle empty
and now its almost gone

But thats just me
Just plain old me
Same son of a bitch
That i'll always be

Cause my nose; alittle bloody
My cough alittle coarse
My back; alittle stabbed
My problems; alittle worse

But theres nothing too big
And I'll be alive tomorrow
Cause theres no point in dwelling
In good-for-nothing sorrow

?By Sam Bell?



Bravo. What great writing skills.

Someone in my prayers.

*I copies this poem off an old friends Myspace page... I too miss his brother.

Oh Jailbird Oh Jailbird

he sings his sad song

peers up to the moon

pleeding for dawn

his cry is mornful

its long and slow

its fild with tears

and is filled with woe

he calls to the stars

and curses the past

every night seems longer

then the one he sang last

the walls stand to remind

that he built his own cage

the thought holds agony

that turns into rage

only time is your escape

let it drip, drop, drain away

keep singing ow jail bird

you will fly free again some day

-Sam Bell

Dedicated to my brother

My friend and offender

I love you Cory

Give time, time.

I would like to remember today, and everyday, that:
I am not just a brain floating around on earth. I have a body that is a home for my brain. . . Which needs to be cared for, so it lasts many years.

That reminds me of a book I used to read as a child:

A husk is a house for a corn ear.
A pod is a place for a pea.
A nutshell's a hut for a hickory nut.
But what is a shelter for me?

A glove is a house for a hand,
A stocking is a house for a knee.
A shoe or a boot is a house for a foot.
And a house is a house to me!

A box is a house for a teabag.
A teapot's a house for some tea.
If you pour me a cup and I drink it all up,
Then the teahouse will turn into me!

Cartons are houses for crackers.
Castles are houses for kings.
The more that I think about houses,
The more things are houses for things.

Perhaps I have started farfetching...
Perhaps I am stretching things some...
A mirror's a house for reflections...
A throat is a house for a hum...

But once you start thinking,
You think and you think and you think,
How pockets are houses for pennies;
And pens can be houses for ink!

How peaches are houses for peachpits,
And sometimes are houses for worms.
How trashcans are houses for garbage,
And garbage makes a house for germs!

And envelopes, earmuffs and eggshells.
And bathrobes and baskets and bins.
And ragbags and rubbers and roasters.
And tablecloths, toasters and tins...

And once you get started in thinking this way,
It seems that whatever you see.
Is either a house or it lives in a house.
And a house is a house for me!

A book is a house for a story.
A rose is a house for a smell.
My head is a house for a secret,
A secret I never will tell!

A flower's at home in a garden.
A donkey's at home in a stall.
Each creature that's known has a house of its own,
And the earth is a house for us all.

Saturday, January 24, 2009


*I recieved this in an email the other day. And wanted to share it. This is a story I want to remember always. I often get frustrated with all the responsibilities in life and just need to take a step back, and remember to be thankful.
Love and Prayers- Emma Jo

A story:

The other day a young person asked me how I felt about being old. I was taken aback, for I do not think of myself as old. Upon seeing my reaction, she was immediately embarrassed, but I explained that it was an interesting question, and I would ponder it, and let her know.

Old Age, I decided, is a gift.

I am now, probably for the first time in my life, the person I have always wanted to be. Oh, not my body! I sometime despair over my body, the wrinkles, the baggy eyes, and the sagging butt. And often I am taken aback by that old person that lives in my mirror (who looks like my mother!), but I don't agonize over those things for long.

I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my loving family for less gray hair or a flatter belly. As I've aged, I've become more kind to myself, and less critical of myself. I've become my own friend. I don't chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not making my bed, or for buying that silly cement gecko that I didn't need, but looks so avante garde on my patio. I am entitled to a treat, to be messy, to be extravagant.

I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging.

Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer until 4 AM and sleep until noon?

I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 50,60&70's, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love .. I will.

I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the jet set.

They, too, will get old.

I know I am sometimes forgetful.. But then again, some of life is just as well forgotten. And I eventually remember the important things.

Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when somebody's beloved pet gets hit by a car? But broken hearts are what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect.

I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turning gray, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face. So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver.

As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I don't question myself anymore. I've even earned the right to be wrong.

So, to answer your question, I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall eat dessert every single day. (If I feel like it)

Saturday, January 17, 2009

Friends??? This past week I have been questioning the people in my life. And it just doesn't add up. When all is said and done, I think I am putting in the most effort. I am putting in ALL of the effort as a matter of fact. And I don't want that to be a fact of my relationships. . . So I have decided to end them. Most of them anyhow. I figure if I am not benefiting from them at least in a small way. Than what is the point? Really, ask yourself that question. You must benefit from each of your relationships at least a little. Do they listen well? Make you laugh? It has got to be something! Let me tell you!!! I have got a whole bunch of meaningless relationships going on in my life that are just wasting my energy! And I have had enough of it. Today is when I call it quits. I quit. And what got me started on this whole theory in my life was when I read a particular question in a book I am reading. . . It went something like:

"Can you name six good friends of yours, in your life right now, that would carry your casket? If you were to die tomorrow???"

Hahahahaha! I couldn't name ONE person that wasn't a family memer! Actually put quite a damper on my day. . . But really also opened my eyes!!
How about you? Do you have six?

Thursday, January 08, 2009

Home, Sweet Home

I am what some people might call a free soul. Where ever the wind is blowing, I am usually going that way. I spend a lot of my life living out of a suitcase. I have been renting a place now for over a year, and that is longest I have stayed in one spot for quite some time. Which doesn't neccassarily mean I go home often. 
A little over three weeks ago I packed up my trusty suitcase. And I am excited to say I will be returning home tomorrow morning. I always enjoy returning home after being gone. Whether it has been a day, a week, or a month. Of course the longer I am gone, the better my return; And the more stuff I come home with! It never fails me, that when I return home from an adventure, I have some kind of knew treasure in hand. One might begin to think there isn't room for walking in my small, one bedroom apartment.
I am looking forward to opening my front door and taking that first, deep breath in. And smelling that familiar smell of home, sweet home after being gone for just a little too long this time. I often find myself thinking I should  stay home more often. Not pack up my suitcase anymore. But then after a few weeks at home I get a smell of that wind blowing again. . .

"I had the blues because I had no shoes, until upon the street I met a man who had no feet."
-Harold Abbott

Tuesday, January 06, 2009

World Peace??

What would the world be like if there was world peace?
World peace, to me, meaning: no wars, no debts, no crimes, people willingly helping people, etc. Would people be free of worry? Anxiety? Could the world continue to "run" in complete peace? I am an optimist. So I believe so. If everyone out there wanted peace, I think it could happen. It has been mentioned; What would people do? Life would be boring if everyone got along. I don't think it has to be that way. . .
Doesn't it feel good to love and be loved- truly? To lend a helping hand? To practice random act of kindness? Wouldn't it be a relief not to feel worried or anxious? To argue and be angry as much as you are? 
I am not sure about this philosophy and everything  that come with it. 
I would sure like to hear your thoughts.