fantasy or fear...?

its funny that in the beginning i thought this would be a whimsical piece of nonsense and its turned out to be anything but. i guess nothing in my life is filled with much whimsy.

i just had a mild panic attack over a fantasy. i was thinking about what it might be like to have sex with the wolf and then went into the dangerous thoughts of the rape and how i might get over that.

i have for so long had a crush on the wolf but am too nervous of my own mind and what a relationship might mean for me that i freak at every possible point of saying something.

for me the thought of having sex is totally unimaginable and terrifying. the thought of being intimate is ok but when it comes to thinking of actual sex with a real man i panic. still. even when its just me in bed. the thing i am most scared of i think is that he wouldn't understand. that he would think it was nothing and that i should be over it.

how does the thought of me having sex in the same position as when i was raped still have this effect on me. its not even really happening. it is just my fantasy. even the idea of doing this with someone i love and trust made me panic. the fantasy. just the fantasy. when i am clearly in a safe place in my bedroom. i can't even begin to think about what repercussions the reality might bring.

i think maybe i need to tell him. about me. or something. but i don't know how. how is such a difficult one.

pink or pale.

who really knows which way thinks are going to go? are you going to take a chance and be eft pink or pale. who really can tell. taking a chance is one of those things-sometimes its easy and sometimes its so hard. it feels like everyone is studying you to see what your next move will be.

i know that it is the nature of my friends. they like to be in the loop and generally speaking everyone can read me like an open book. but i can't read anyone else. at least not anyone that i want to be able to read.

the difficult boy to read, he's like a wolf. dark and open, full of mystery and magic. he holds a certain shy protective power. i am terrified of what this means. i want to be daring and just pull him in to me and kiss him. but i don't know how. i'm worried that it will turn out to be too much. that i can't handle it. but i wont know until i try will i?

recently i've been so all over the place. i don't know how to put someone else into that. i guess i also feel like if i don't try these things i won't make any progress. and my god do i want to make progress.

i just want to kiss him. feel his skin against mine. i think this is normal.

at this point i really wish that someone read this. they could give me some advice. i could definitely do with some advice.

loneliness

sometimes i feel so lonely that its almost as if there's no hope for anything.

there is a boy, i've probably referred to him before. and i really like him. but it only feels like its going somewhere about half of the time. i want to tell him that i like him but i'm afraid, i totally don't know where i stand with him.

and then there is this other boy that thinks i'm cute. which is a bit annoying but also good. i like that thats what he saw rather than sexy or anything else. but i don't know him at all. and i do have to admit that i was attracted to him when i met him but i've invested so much time thinking of the other boy.

everyone is at school. and i'm not and i'm ok with that but i do miss some of my friends who are just constantly studying.

i am feeling like a very unfortunate person of late-everything seems to be falling apart. and yet i've managed to talk about the drama of having two boys that i could potentially be interested in. clearly i'm a mushy mushy girl. either that or i am skimming so as not to think about the more scary aspects of life.

i feel like everyone is gone and i am left all alone in the middle. life is hard and its getting harder.  and i am sitting in the bottom of the shower crying.

all this stuff seems rather trivial really. but the truth is i am depressed. i am falling through the floor, and on monday i started my birthday with an hour long session of tears. something isn't quite right. so fixating on the trivial is what i do. it gets me through. it also makes me very lonely.

empty.

somewhat anyway. i feel like i don't really have any emotions left. any sense of who i am and where i am going emotionally. its almost as if its been sucked dry. and i know that i am in a critically creative spot. but i really don't feel like i'm feeling anything. i don't know if that is normal or not?

i get really tired and i want to just curl up in a ball and cry but its like there are no tears to cry. its like i can't reach that level of emotion. i'm still laughing though so i guess its ok. i really need to talk to some friends. have a good honest conversation with them but i almost feel like i've forgotten how. like i've been covering for myself for so long now, thinking about everyone else and i've forgotten how to process my own life.

i want to talk to the piano man about this. but i don't feel i know him well enough. i also want to talk to bird, i worry though that we haven't talked in awhile and i hate to overwhelm people. i hate to bring them down. i hope she wants to know. sleepovers with them both are required i feel. i also miss peg.

life feels just like a heartless bitch right now. i cancelled therapy tomorrow, unsure as to whether this is a good or bad sign.

drugs

sometimes i feel like the only time i am normal is when i take drugs. i don't take serious drugs. its not like i'm a heroin addict but there definitely is a calm in the crazy when i am at the peak of a drug. be it smoking, drinking, taking a trip or calming my fears with a sedative.  drugs are everywhere in my life.

( i just wrote a massive long piece of drivel and decided to delete it because it sounded all up in the clouds. fuck me. )

and i think that  now maybe. i should go to sleep.
yes. i will. goodnight.

ps. i'm in a right shit state. i'm sad all the time. the times that i'm happy i'm tripping over a buzzy side effect from my anti-depressants - i think i'm losing it. i don't really know when this happened. i thought a did. maybe it just built up slowly until now. i got used to it so didn't really notice that i was losing it until just now. when it might already be gone.

playgrounds and memories.

this weekend i went home. i was really nervous to go as i haven't seen anyone in my family for about nine months now. it was a very hard day. i felt very much on the outskirts of things and it was really stressful. everything spun. a lot. i ended up taking a walk with my cousin and we went to my old kindergarten.

there are so many fun memories from that kindy. and after all these years it almost hasn't changed at all. i can still see myself tipping bubble-mix in my eyes and singing 'achy breaky heart' with actions. now as a twenty-one year old nutcase i broke down at that kindy. the stress of all my family and all the overwhelming things of the day fell out of me like i was four years old again.

i am not really ok. this is something that i know. it is a ridiculously silly time for me to be going to sydney to be doing anything where i have to plan. to be doing anything where i am not just chilled. i am freaking out. i have been for awhile. maybe i should take a break. but when. sydney was supposed to be the break but now its this huge daunting thing that is just making me even more scared. fuck.

swirling and sinking. rainbow dance.

its 4.30 in the morning. four hours until i start work and i am awake, flying and feeling like this is the only moment in which the room will be quite this still, this perfect for just listening and being, that its impossible to sleep through it.

its a time for antony and the johnsons and also beck. its a time i'm most glad i bought my record player and amp. i love sitting in the sounds with the world completely silent. since i live in the city this is about the only time of the day this ever happens. i'm happy. the prospect of possibility is all i can think of. i also feel very peaceful. recently i've felt a little devoid emotionally which makes this peace especially quiet, the pain thats always there is a bit dull. i can't tell if this is because i'm taking anti-depressants or if this is just a natural seven week swing of depression pulling me up. it has been about the right time for both really.

depression can be the swirling sinking plug hole to me, right in the dip there. pulling me down and making sure i stay weighed at the bottom. and it can so easily almost drown me but it also kindof wants me to survive. depression is like a parasite so it wants to milk all the life out of me that it can. kill me slowly it can also be a rainbow dance. spinning all around me and being a frantic frenzy of messy social occasions and hyperactive activity. and i'm almost happy. and then i get tired. and its back down the plug hole for me.

i have recently made a beautiful new friend. i've now known her for several years but just recently really got to know her as a true friend. she is so lovely and i feel really happy to have her as a friend. i worry for her but i can see that she is really strong, even though she can't, and i know that she can deal with any kind of swirling sinking rainbow that could at some point take her over. and its amazing. she is amazing. i know what she's thinking and it all just disappears and its like i can see under it. and it makes me wonder if some other people are like that with me. if they see things that have long since disappeared for me because i am so depressed. i actually just thought those things were gone. i figured that they had disappeared while i was fixing myself. i don't know.

i am too deep. hold on i'll try to pull myself out with some neko case. sad but uplifting.

peaceful. again. a different type. but peaceful.

i stole some gloves so i would get to see the person who owns them again. i know this is sneaky and either aggressive or slightly desperate but right now i don't care. its resulted in a lunch invitation. now i have to just worry that he might know that i like him, or think i'm crazy. gloves.

they're really ridiculous gloves on me to be honest. they're massive and have this fingerless section underneath a mitten section that you can pin back. and obviously they're guy size so they are absolutely massive on me. and finally, they're dark grey and as such clash with almost everything i own.

i think the last statement is something that not a lot of people are able to say. this is only of mild concern. something that i am mildly concerned about is that i only have an hour and half before i have to get up now. i really should go back to sleep. last day of work tomorrow and i'm flying as high as a kite and 5 in the morning. ha.

piano man and my rollercoaster...

i have this amazing friend, the piano man. i haven't known him for very long but also feel that i've known him forever. he's such a well-fitting friend. i feel one hundred percent at home around him which is saying a lot because its me. i think it helps that he's gay. i'm not worried about it.

he asked me not long ago what i thought life was like? i sat there for a minute and thought about it. a very vivid image came into my head...strings and sparkles of brightly coloured dots flying through the air being tossed and flipped and left behind by the black rollercoaster on white tracks. this is the perfect depiction of my life. and i'd never thought about it until that second and the funny thing is, for me, that image is comforting. i like knowing that i am sometimes the confetti and sometimes the rollercoaster. i'm sometimes the collective confetti and sometimes just one piece. i am ever changing, sometimes in control and sometimes flying so far out of the realms of control that there's no stopping me. i now know that at some point again i'll always be the rollercoaster and while i'm being thrown around it can either be awesome or it can be terrible, but there's no knowing until you're there. and there's no stopping the rollercoaster. it will go. the confetti will fly and dance, cry and sing. the confetti will let go and live the life they have. with all their heart.

the piano man makes me realise things that i never knew about myself. things that frame me so well and are so lovely. he makes me feel like i'm making progress. on sunday i gave him a ride home and he asked me in to see his house. i ended up listening to him play beautiful music on his piano for hours. my heart filled up and my soul danced. the music sat within me, filling me up. warming me. i do not really know how to articulate what that felt like for me. to feel my soul dance. my soul hasn't danced all by itself in a long time.

for those short hours, my soul danced. i love him for it.

fever and smoke

i have a fever. i started the day high and happy in my escapism. right now my head hurts so much that there's not a single thought, just fog.

sleep

i usually find sleep relatively hard to come by i am much more awake than most normal people and with the addition of pharmaceuticals i often find that sleep evades me altogether. it is so nice then to wile away my evening sleeping. a natural sleep and for once to wake up at a normal hour (although for some seven am on a sunday still shrieks abnormally early) and not feel like i've run a marathon rather than nap.

the black rings are still there, they are semi-permanent at this stage and only layer upon layer of carefully applied under-eye concealer hides them completely. but they are not too visible with my glasses on they are mostly disguised. its hard to be bothered to put makeup on, its generally not really my kind of thing so people have grown accustomed to the purple look. when someone i'm close to says, 'you look tired,' i know that what they're really saying is you look like death.

recently i've looked like death. with all the goings on of late i decided to once more try the pharmaceutical approach and my doctor prescribed me citalopram...all i can say is what an epic adventure. and also maybe no thanks.

after the fainting i should've wised up but i didn't and it wasn't until i collapsed and subsequently lost all my memories of the evening and started hallucinating that i realised this drug was not for me. so back to prozac. good old prozac for me the drug kills my already teeny tiny appetite and i find it harder than ever to sleep. sleep almost entirely evades me. last time i tried this out i was awake for six days straight before taking many sleeping pills just to get any sleep. this time around it seems to be better. less of the sleeplessness. i'm just lacking in quality sleep. everyday i wake more tired than i was the day before.

i've always had nutcase-style dreams but i find that prozac heightens this and so i tend to get the more extreme version of my dreams. instead of dreams of everyday activities they become distorted and bizarre. and being a true dreamer they are in colour. vivid as hell and i invariably confuse them with reality. i am truly like the character in Michel Gondry's "The Science of Sleep."  my reality is distorted, ever changing and forever becoming less and less. i often used to feel that when on prozac the only part of me that truly lived was my dreams. i hope that does not become the case this time.

it is amazing though the rapid transformation that one can have from feeling far too much to almost nothing at all. for me some drugs seem to work too well. not so sleep medication. people with anxiety often have trouble sleeping. when i look back over the years and see all the sleepless nights i realise just how highly-strung i am. night after night of lying in bed staring at the ceiling. and i could never sleep during the day, the light seems to suggest some excitement that i will be missing if i stare at the ceiling for another second. its like a show and no matter how dull or dreary the show is i can't close my eyes to it and escape into dreams. this is where i am different from stephane. my dreams stay my dreams, no matter how much i sometimes wish for them to be my realities. my dreams are only dreams. they are in colour and sometimes i get them confused with my reality but they are still only my dreams. i am lucky i guess to dream in such detail such rich colour. i miss my dreams when i do not sleep.


i am a little damned if i do and damned if i don't really. for me sleeping pills mean the end of dreams. so does insomnia. nights like last night are precious.

happiness

i am almost certain that no-one reads this and for me that is almost good. i don't really want to spread my misery. But sometimes it feels much better to write things here, with the possibility that someone might read them than in my diary which is already overflowing with bits and pieces of misery.

i wish that i could be happy. more than anything i hope for happiness. well maybe not hope, its not really the right word. pray. maybe. that happiness is in my future. i just want it to be near enough that i actually make it. at the moment at the rate that i am falling if i hit the ground i might never make it.

i feel that happiness shouldn't be this hard to attain. it shouldn't be an epic struggle. i know that it is unrealistic to be constantly happy. all the time. today we would probably think there was something wrong with someone who was so constantly happy, they would certainly be annoying. but at the same time i feel it should be relatively easy to feel happiness at some point. a small joy not even for that long.

at the moment i am in such a cloud that i don't ever even remember being happy. i don't think that i have ever truly been happy. i don't even really remember feeling at all happy as a child and certainly not as an adult.

my whole life i felt totally suppressed like i shouldn't cry, like feelings were bad and the whole time i felt so sad. so grief-stricken and heartbroken all at the same time. when i was tiny. its all i really remember the stress of it all. is mum happy. is my brother happy. are all the people around me pleased with how i am performing. i always felt like everyone had so much else going on that they didn't have time to look after me. so i had to prove myself. make them love me. and i never really felt like it worked. when i was little i never really cried and until i was struck down by the reality of my depression i never cried in front of people. the fact that i can still make new friends and get jobs shows me exactly how good i have become at pretending.

i was never that moody child. i always looked happy, bright as a button. trapped in my silent private world where i was never good enough.

and i wish that my mother had said to me ever that she loved me in a way that i felt it. it is a very rare thing for my mother to say she loves me. people used to say that it was her actions that mattered not her words and that some people found it hard to say they loved people. the problem was she never really had much trouble saying it to my brother. she's all talk there. and she's never been particularly maternal with me either. so i guess i just didn't get to feel it. of course i know that she loves me. but i've never felt it. and i think i need to. i feel very starved of the deep caring love that most people would get from their mother. the nurturing. and i do feel that if dad hadn't died it would've been different. i think that i would be an entirely different person. maybe not so lonely. but i'm not that person.

i just am the person that is here. typing away. wishing things were different.

and its like i've thought before, the gaps that are in me, they are never going to go away. they can't be filled. it doesn't mater how well i do or how many friends i have. i will always have gaps. stuff that just is missing. i don't know whether i can be happy with all these gaps. and if there never going to go away then what real chance do i have?

how are you supposed to know when enough is enough? how are you supposed to be able to tell if the pain others would feel if you shattered and they each got a piece of your pain would be less than the pain that you feel. whether they would survive with that little bit of your pain. how are you supposed to know when to give up?

falling

like alice down the rabbit hole i am falling. for awhile there i was simply sinking in thick heavy mud, then faster in quicksand and suddenly there was nothing underneath me at all. i was suddenly falling. i still am falling. and there feels like there is nothing and nobody to catch me.

i can't tell whether i'll be falling forever or if someday i'll unexpectedly hit the ground. if i'll just not wake up one day. because no-one was there to catch me. what will happen to me?

my family does not understand. my friends must be sick to death of all the drama. the fainting the tears the panic attacks. i don't have anyone to hold on to. it is so hard to hold on to myself. i just want someone to look after me. to hold me and say that its alright. to catch me. instead of letting me fall all the way.

location location location...

i realised this morning that despite popular opinion, changing the location of my despair and depression is unlikely to help me. I spent all my years at school achieving. getting brilliant grades so that some day i might become something. never in my life did i imagine that what i would become is a mess.

i don't want to work. i don't want to see people who don't understand me and i don't want to see tomorrow.

i want someone to find me and know that i am at peace. i want to have a funeral with an open casket where i will lie naked so that people can see the beauty and pain that tore me apart. i want someone to come and look after me.

at this point a mental hospital does seem like my only salvation. i just don't know how to get into one. and i know what the opinion would be of all those around me. she's finally cracked up. there's no going back now. she's gone.

in my consideration of moving countries it never occurred to me that i might still be sick if i lived somewhere else. that less of my life might be perfect. how can i even consider the idea of going to art school when every time i look at a paint brush or a clay tool i feel like stabbing myself with it. i am probably at this point the least productive aspiring artist there ever was.

and i do wonder. if happiness is this far away, this hard for me to get to. is it even possible for me? is it there in my future? do i have any hope or should i just let go now? i do feel like my soul is gone. everyone else is spinning around me making their lives, going places and i feel like a fake.

like i should wear a sign to warn prospective friends and employers, this girl is a lunatic she has officially gone crazy. don't take any notice of her and especially don't become her friend. the person she displays is a mere shadow of the person she used to be. now she is just all twisted beyond recognition. a deadly disease, in a pretty box.

ah the winter

walking to work in the rain. cranking the heater. eating chocolate and shrewsberry's instead of dinner and putting my curtains back up to keep the heat in.

note...my curtains fell down initially, i didn't pull them down.

winter also usually means drinking lots of wine... i am not allowed wine currently and boy do i miss it. so much. can't wait for my first glass.

meanwhile... warmth and happiness in other forms.

gaps. oh the gaps.

i miss my dad.

i have gaps. and i just want to be ok. to not feel so much loss and pain. i want to be able to look back at a year and cry over the happiness that graced that year. i don't want to look back over twenty-one years and mourn because all those years were sad.

i am grieving. for my dad. for the friendships lost. and for me. for all the things that i missed. for the gaps in my life and all the hurt thats happened.

i am grieving. and i miss my dad. and the person i used to be.

tears.

"...if you think back and replay your year and it doesn't bring you tears of joy or sadness it was a year wasted..."   John Cage (Peter MacNicol) in Ally McBeal, season 1, episode 23.


my years have not been wasted. when I think of the first years of my life I am struck by a deep sadness. A sadness so strong that it always brings tears. when i think of last year i not only feel the sadness but the pain that came with it. there has been a lot of sadness in my life. and i'm not saying that there has been no happiness. i'm not saying that my life is devoid of good moments. just that for me the sadness is overwhelming. i have had perhaps more personal adversity relating to sadness. i'm not talking about situation. i'm talking about loss, grief, hurt and the melancholia of my everyday.

it is hard to feel happy when you feel a sense of loss and abandonment. when you really try to understand why you might feel this way. why you might be lost. happiness can elude you.

i thought i had wasted these years being sad. and i did wish that i could erase the years of my life that made me feel little, bleak, hurt and disparaged. but erasing the years would mean that i would go back to a mental age of one and a half... the first time a black cloud swooped in and hit me. forever lying there.

the years are not wasted. they are hard but they are not wasted.

one therapist i saw asked me to draw my life, my emotion, all the pain and hurt and where i was inside it. i drew what can only be described as a jungle full of thick cutting vines, a jungle so thick it was almost impenetrable. and it was all black. i couldn't see the sky because the jungle was so heavy. it was hard to breathe because all the oxygen was being cut out by these tree's. everything was so black and so dark. closer to the center of the jungle it became thicker and blacker. and at the time she asked i was only just moving into the jungle.

my time in the jungle makes me look back and cry. the times i tried not to exist anymore, the times i tried to forget everything and turn around. because it was easier. and it would have been easier. i look back and i cry. tears of absolute despair, a grief so strong that it is pulling me back in. and i'm still not out of the jungle. i can almost see the end. but its like a big black fog comes in periodically, trapping me and suffocating me and then releasing me. i am so close to the edge and yet so so far away.

i may be affected by grief, trapped in my own melancholy soul, my own losses, but my years have not been wasted.

last night i cried myself to sleep. i tried to imagine my life with my dad here. and i couldn't. i can't imagine the advice that he may have given i can't think of how he might have done this or that or that he might have been proud. because i don't know those things. when someone is taken away and you are so small you can't imagine them and what life would be like. there is only loss and blaming them for leaving you. even when they didn't get a choice. if i could imagine my life with my dad in it who knows, maybe i would be happier or maybe i wouldn't be.

i will never know. i miss him, even though i can't imagine what life would be like with him here. i just know that it would be different. and i miss him. i miss someone that i never knew. and that is so much harder than missing someone i know. someone who i can imagine. if you knew someone you know what it is you're missing. you aren't just missing the idea of a person. or the possibility. the possibility of a person that for me would have been the greatest person i could have ever known.

and that is saying a lot.

so i cry, but my years and my tears aren't wasted. they are a celebration of the humanness of me. that i can miss someone so deeply just on a possibility when i can't even imagine that possibility. that i can try to heal and that i can reflect and still feel the pain, as if everything happened just yesterday.

that i am still here. waiting for tomorrow and living for today. crying.

the animal instinct is revealed...

we think we are so evolved. we imagine ourselves to be these super sophisticated bodies. we think we can control everything in our lives. 

and not everything is in our reach. we can't change how we are or the things we do and how we react to things. we really are just a reflection of the animals within. 

each of us have a different animal hiding out inside us. sometimes more than one. 

at the moment i feel like a combination of a lion, a fox and a kitten. i want to maul someone, i want the thrill of the chase and the snuggling that comes after. the overwhelming sense of satisfaction running through my entire body. top to toe. 

and i have my eye on a wolf. so the kitten the fox and most of all the lion will be snuggling up in bed all alone. frustrated as hell. damn those animal instincts.

the theory of the inner child...

the damn inner child theory has been prescribed to me yet again. complete with visualisations and exercises to complete everyday. its not that i don't subscribe to the inner child theory, i feel it has some merits but realistically there's only so much you can do talking to yourself and imagining things.

there isn't really any space in my head for a small sad child.

to be honest i also already practice some of the things that the inner child theory suggests as self love. for example...playing on swings, writing a diary, watch the sunrise, go to bed early, have baths, take scenic drives and masturbate.

so a regular day then.

contact.

i miss human contact. the feeling of someones hands running around your waist, snaking up your spine really drawing you in. skin on skin the smoothness of it. why is it so hard to find. i'm not asking for a full on relationship. just full on body contact. is that so much to ask. really.

i wish i were braver. i wish i could just go up to a man i am attracted to and kiss him and see where it goes. but its the damn feelings things again. what if he has a girlfriend or what if he's gay (that would be awkward, and some of the hot ones are gay) anyway i seem to be thinking far more of other people than myself.

my challenge for the next two weeks is to kiss a boy. just have to pick the right someone.

theres a tick next to my previous challenge...go to a party in a state of semi-dress, my swimsuit, and be ok with it. massive challenge, easy to achieve. once i got over people staring it was fine. then they got used to it and stopped staring and partied with me. simple.

the kiss challenge is something i've done before. it was fine. terrible kiss. but i'm thinking i need to go for someone with a little bit more experience in the kissing slash dating slash ravishing someone stakes.

a kiss is simple. what i want is a kiss that leads to some potential human contact down the line.

the experiment...

life right now is unusual. full of stuff that is a bit unnecessary. and not really going anywhere.

i want to run around naked and go swimming i want to float my life away being whimsical and frivolous. i want to have someone that i can be close with, spoon have sex and experiment with. life is one big experiment to me. on me.

life in the past was not going outside after dusk, not taking the bus unless totally necessary, being too tired to walk anywhere because i hadn't eaten enough. of objectifying control as happiness and everything else as terrifying.

i miss the ability to do what i want. experimenting on myself is the only way that i can make sure i don't sink. its a new form of control. its more dangerous and fun.

its funny though. the small tasks are easy. the problem is separating my brain from my body. even though i am wanting to see how far i can go i don't want anyone to get hurt in the process. for example the idea of friends with benefits is something i am very interested in. however my status as a victim of rape means i have specific requirements. the friend needs to be understanding and know when I'm not ok. they need to be a good enough friend that I am entirely comfortable with them but at the same time not such a good friend that i am afraid of ruining the friendship or of that person potentially becoming interested in a more substantial thing and therefore being hurt. so how do we find someone like this?? how is this a possibility. i also need to be sexually attracted to them. sexual attraction is something i have yet to find in an available man.

i am dissatisfied with my progress. how am i supposed to have sex in the rain if i can't find an available man to have it with.

damn those good looking men with the chiseled jaw lines and serious girlfriends. or even just girlfriends. or boyfriends for that matter.

experiments and sex. these things are what i want. partying in a bathing suit aside. i want more.

wishes...

sometimes i wish life would just let me go, let me float to where i need to be. that it would peel away all the waiting the pain and the time spent hurting. but then i guess if that happened i wouldn't exactly be the same person would i?

i want to float. to feel every part of me separated from the reality of the day. weightless but not lifeless, calm. still. this is all i want. to be part of the floating ever-moving tide, streaming in out and over. touching only what i want and simply feeling the rest with my soul.

if floating away would help me, i would be gone. if i knew that to be a weightless lifeless soul was happiness, freedom and fulfillment i would already be gone. but i don't know. how can you possibly know.
here i have friends. in the weightless i have nothing not even life. so how is that better.

this is what keeps me wishing. the possibility that floating is not what it seems. that life has more to give.

sandcastles...

the structural integrity of a sandcastle is not very good. they are to me just as fragile as human life itself. they reflect the life of their maker, however haphazard or otherwise they are out together, they reflect the person who spent the time making them.

the devastation that occurs to a sandcastle on the beach is reminiscent of the affect a major disaster can have on someone. a person walking along the beach can stamp on your sandcastle or the tide can come in. the tide washes you over regularly, this is the everyday drain on a person, the way in which we are a little bit less at the end of everyday. the foot that destroys us is the major disaster, the earthquake, rape, murder or change in your life or your loved ones. the sand has a ripple effect, the breeze blows the sand on and on, always moving it always changing your life experience.

there is no way to make a sandcastle invincible. you can try but its impossible. the best you can do is make it beautiful, inside and out and make it want to last. you can decorate it with shells and driftwood to shelter it from the storm and maybe it will hold on for that little bit longer.

sandcastles lack as we do the structural integrity that makes a thing last forever.

in this we can see that living for the day not tomorrow or yesterday is the true philosophy by which we should celebrate the ephemeral and perfect nature of life. the life of our sandcastle and us is fragile.

love it while it lasts. and learn from all the people who destroy your castle by stepping in it. build it back up and make your best defense for the sea washing over you laughter. make bubbles in the sea and wait for it to retreat, go swimming for a bit and reassemble yourself. be the sandcastle who has dried in the sun. challenge the elements. just live.