I got flight information today.
Or yesterday, rather.

I have about 1,257,127 layovers on the way to Rome.
Okay, so it's actually only two layovers.
One in Zurich, and the other in Munich. Switzerland and Germany. I'm excited, even though my mom told me I would only be in the airports, and that all airports are the same. I got my baggage tickets, my parents contact numbers verified, and tons of "travel checklists". It's so real to me. The excitement is taking over my brain!

I CANNOT WAIT TO GETT OUTT!!!

aufhnanasufeutyewuncxvn!!!

Emotions like this frighten me

I have never in my life wanted to hurt someone as much as I want to hurt you.

Emotionally, or physically. It doesn't even matter at this point. I'd settle for either.

You have no fucking right. How dare you attempt to do this to me. You stupid little cunt.

I haven't spoken to you in nearly a month,and you have the audacity to attempt to sabotage something I've been working to maintain since I was 11 years old?

I called Dave last night, sobbing and angry. Angry because you can't leave shit alone. I don't care if your hurt . You deserve every little ounce of hurt you feel. I'm not sorry for what " I did". I'm not sorry you have no confidence, and I'm not the least bit remorseful that you're never going to achieve your goals because you're a dumb bag of shit.

I felt slightly better when I talked to MY family. When they told me that blood was thicker than water. Thicker than anything. And that if I hate someone, they hate that someone too. I feel as if I've joined the mafia. And for your sake, you had better hope I never do. So much for " I really wanna see you guys again"? Isn't it? Dave jumped to my defense , saying " You are my biological daughter. Thats everything to me. Ellen knows not to go against the family, thats why she never told me about what was going on. Rest assured she and I will be having a serious talk when she comes home"

I told him to leave it alone. Don't feed the flames.

I have worked to maintain a certain level of sanity ever since I got back into contact with them. Everyday it's a balancing act. It made my life more confusing. It made emotions that you'll never experience take over my brain, seep out of my ears, and pollute my everyday life.

And then, in a moment of anger, jealousy, and bitterness , you decide you're going to "hit me where it hurts"?

You don't care how our relationship has failed? That's a dirty filthy lie. If you didn't care, you wouldn't have done these things that you've done.

How dare you claim to "know the truth"

You know nothing. You ARE nothing.

Nothing nothing nothing. You mean nothing to me.

I am writing this to save myself from literally punching the shit out of every somewhat valuable object in my room.

My hands were trembling and my face was hot.

You will never have such power over me again.

And if I see you doing this again.

I will create a problem.

Oh I will fucking get you, you piece of lowly , dumb, shit.

Too happy to write well.

This morning, I indulged in a post-menopausal guilty pleasure of mine, The Montel Williams Show, and was disgusted by Sylvia Brown( a guest on his show). She is a self- appointed psychic , whom I find completely ridiculous. She claims to have seen fairies while on a trip to Ireland? What bullshit. I pity those poor grieving people in the audience who are continually misled by her blatant exploitation of human emotion. Most of the audience members are Christians, and it sort of baffles me that they believe in spirits and ghosts and premonitions, all of which are obvious marks against Christianity. Oh hypocrites, whatever shall we do with you?

On a lighter, and less accusatory note, Italy is fast approaching. I'm excited excited excited. So excited. I'm hoping my school acceptance and family information to come soon-ish, so my visa can be taken care of .

So many of my mothers old lovers want to meet up with me when I first arrive in Rome.

Paolo is this artsy film maker who has lived with the same woman for almost 20 years now, except they aren't married. He lives in Eur, I believe? They have beautiful gardens, or so I'm told.

Sergio is a 65 year old Italian diplomat who is marrying a 25 year old Russian Doctor. How awkward. He's pushing the Philadelphia consulate to be a little quicker with my visa , once it's processed. My mom thinks his fiance must be pretty, or he wouldn't bother. How sad.



This is perhaps the most boring post I've ever written. I love when this happens. When life is so...worry free that you can't write about anything but happy ( and slightly boring ) things. Life is going so well. Isn't that annoying? I have my college shit in order. My summers going to be fab-yew-luss! I'm trying to plan something with Erica.. perhaps an all girls trip to Vermont? Or Myrtle beach? Anywhere where we can just hang out, and do basically nothing except lounge around on the beach( or the cornfields.. as it may) and get tan.



Come on September, come a little faster.

We're All Damaged Somehow

The evening I finally let go , it rained.
A gentle rain that signified the end of something mucky and sticky and...overwhelming, and the beginning of something fresh, new, and opaque.

As I begin preparing for an essentially new outlook , I undoubtedly have to do some reflection of things prior. You can't know where your going until you know where you've come from, so they say.

Hah! Dear Lord. Where have I come from?

Not from anything bad. Surely no. I'm not one to blame my current mishaps on a bad childhood, or a dysfunctional home. I find those people annoying actually. Oh no, I prefer to think of it as something tarnished (trite as that may sound.) It started off rather black, and old. It had lost its shimmer(if it had any to begin with). Thankfully though, a bit of polish and elbow grease is all that was needed to fix it up again. Of course, there are always those hard to reach places. Those that, no matter how hard you polish, clean, and "fix" them, will always remain slightly clouded and grim. But that's what gives it character! No one is always shiny.If you claim to be, your telling a dirty lie. Everyones' got their "cross to bear".

Mine has become troublesome lately, as I attempt to pick up the pieces of my life, and continue on with new and intoxicating things.

How can you pick up something new when your hands are full?


Yes, it rained.
A gentle, silent rain. One that made my hands wet and slippery. I lost my grip on you.

Perhaps this is the way it's supposed to be.

Things have dissipated into nothing.

School has ended. My years at LVPA have finally come to a halt.Am I relieved, or sad? Or both? I can't decide how I feel.

I'm leaving nothing behind. That can be either liberating, or funereal.

I know that when I miss LVPA and all my friends, I'll miss how things used to be. I'll miss those days before Briana left, before Leah decided she didn't care about my existence, before I nearly sacrificed everything I've worked so hard to maintain. More than once.


I think people have an uncanny and slightly convenient habit of remembering only what they want to remember.Half of me wants to stay back, and try and fix all that I've depleted.

The smarter half of me knows that theres nothing I can do.

School is winding to an end .
With change, as always , comes an array of mixed emotions.
On one hand, I am excited to start something new.
Something exciting. Something, interesting, exhilarating, and life-changing.

On the other hand, however, I'm terrified.


Terrified that what I'm leaving behind is too great. Am I ready to leave literally everything in my life behind ? Am I truly able to go ahead and separate myself from all that I've grown so comfortably accustomed to? I'm not so sure anymore. At first, I was so ready to go. Now, as other things are changing, I'm reminded of how repulsed and uncomfortable I am with change itself. Whether good or bad, I think people are discontented with change. It makes us nervous. It unsettles us.


In the end, though, I've decided the best thing for me is to get the fuck out of her. Cleanse myself of all the bullshit. See what really matters to me. Who really matters.


who really matters.

Everything is happy and perfect.
I want to sing and dance and party.
Even my dog wants to sing and dance and party.
Which gives me an idea.

I'm so...angry.

I have never felt so awful.
Frustration is taking over.
My mind is a jumbled mass of thoughts that I don't know how to express.

I just want things to change.

I want so desperately for this to all go away. I wish they didn't exist. I wish I was born into what I know now, without the insanity that is my genetic makeup.

I want to be near them. I want a relationship. I want to maintain it, because I think it's important. I try to find affection for everyone in my life, and acknowledge what each of them has brought into it. At the same time, however, I feel as if I'll never be able to get on with my life. I'll never be able to progress, without digressing twice as much.

One step forward, two steps back.

They inhibit me. They confuse me. They tug at my very prominent heartstrings.

I am nothing to them. Just one of the many "well handled" situations.


You feel abandoned? You stupid little shit.

I wish I could show you.

Can you be happy where you are?

Thought you had
all the answers
to rest your heart upon.
But something happens,
don't see it coming, now
you can't stop yourself.

For some time, I have wondered how in the world I got to this place. It's easy to fall deep into thought when it's so silent.

The air has that summer mugginess, and were in that sort of..pre-dusk twilight. That's my favorite time of the evening; when the light is most comfortable on the eyes.

I went outside briefly; I wish I was in any mood to stay out longer. I walked out to the garage to get a bottle of water, and I saw the garage door was open. I stepped out onto the driveway for a moment. I was surprised to feel cold air, because the thermometer said 79 degrees. Because I feel like death, I assume my body must also take on death-like qualities, and become numb and frigid.

Not true. I've maintained a steady low grade temperature.

I feel..despondent. But it's a peaceful sort of sadness. Not the violent, weighty, pulling, heavy kind. I've felt that. It feels like something is grabbing your ribs, and pulling as hard as it can, bringing you to your knees.

No, it's definitely not that. But rather, a quiet, almost serene sort of feeling. Almost like sleepiness. I feel as if I will wake up tomorrow, and find that everything is the same.

Unfortunately, that rarely happens. I hate doing that ;waking up from a blissful sleep, only to slowly have everything seep back into your brain like poison.

We bought a new rug for the living room. It feels foreign under my feet.

In the silence,
all your secrets, will
raise their worried heads.
Well, you can pin yourself back together,
to who you thought you were.
Now you're out there living
In the deep.

we do not belong together

I am perpetually exhausted.

No matter how many naps I take, how much sleep I get, or how many red bulls I drink... I can hardly keep my eyes open. It's the constant chatter that I find most tiring. I'm exhausted of everyone telling me the same things. The same generic, stale phrases. Such as ( and I quote..)

" Everything is better in the end!"
" But, look at all you have now! That's what matters"
"College is important"
"Going abroad is important. You'll gain the edge"
" I'm sorry"
"I hate to be the devils advocate, but.."

My parents are driving me crazy. They want me to study and fix myself. Figuratively and literally.
My friends are disappointed in me. But let's face it, I'm a little disheartening.
My cat keeps knocking over things. They make an expensive noise as they break.

My dog is digging at my foot with his, desperately trying to get my attention. He wants me to fulfill his doggy needs.

I don't want to fulfill any one's needs anymore.

Gentle rain from a cloudless sky

I can recall and relive any given moment of that evening. I remember being nervous. Making mindless smalltalk with the person sitting next to me.

" Don't worry" he said " You'll be able to handle it"

Sure. Great.

I remember staring out the window, watching the sparse trees go by just a little bit too fast. He's a bit of a speeder, that one. You called his cell phone.
"Where are you?"you ask.
"Two minutes away ", we said. "We're turning into the apartment complex right now."

I remember how my heart raced as my confidence wavered. Maybe this was a bad idea. I bet I could stay here in the truck, and tell everyone it's all a big mistake.

"I'm not ready! I'm not ready! I can't do it! Don't make me! "

My brain is screaming.But outwardly, I'm silent. I could just turn and run, everyone would understand.

Instead, I get out of the car.

I can't believe I'm actually doing this. How many years has it been? And now, to resurface it all. It seems insane. And yet, I keep walking. I figure I have another 2 or 3 minutes until we locate which apartment is yours. 2-3 more minutes to prepare myself.

No such luck. I avert my gaze from the ground, and there you are, walking hurridly towards us. At least, I think it's you. You say something, and all of a sudden, recognition slides across my face. At this moment, I can't remember exactly what you said to me, as you rushed over for the longest hug I've ever experienced in my life. Emotion sometimes dulls all of the other senses, I think. But I suppose it doesn't matter anyway.

After the neverending hug, we are ushered into the front door. Mandy is there. So are Jayden, Nolan and RJ. Nanna Knisley as well.

Nana rushes in for the kill. Another hug. Thankfully not as long as the last one.

We awkwardly sit on the couch. Dave sits in between us. I relax, thankful for the buffer.

Nana speaks first.

" You know, I used to call you snow baby. Your skin and hair were so white. You got all the German in us. I bet you burn easily"

I do.

I nibble on generic brand mint cream oreos. We talk about apartment prices, childhood antics, and school. Anything to avoid whats actually important.

There's an elephant in the room. He's big, and angry. Just waiting to surface.

And suddenly, he does.

I hear whimpering from a few seats over.

Dave whispers to you. You nod, and tuck your hair behind your ear. Dave gets up, and you inch closer and closer to me. I stare at my feet. You falter, but only for a moment, as you start to stroke my hair.

I can't take it anymore.

Dave comes back from the kitchen, drink in hand, and notices his seat has been taken over. He sits on the far end of the couch.

You smile and me, or at least I bet you do. I still refuse to make eye contact.

" We're all here, sweetheart. A family."

I feel a lump in my throat, one that is roughly the size of the previously mentioned elephant. You tell me about your hair. It was longer once, but lately you just don't have the time to take care of such lengthy strands. You cut it a few months back, but you miss it, and plan to re-grow.

Half of me wants to run out the door,and never come back. The other half wants to dive into your arms, and never let go.


It's time to leave, Dave says. We have to meet some people for dinner. You rush into the bedroom, and bring out a little box. It's contents? A little stuffed pillow. Covered in blue satin, with butterflies. It smells like lavender. Or something. i think it's the kind you put in with your underpants, to make them smell nice.

I thank you, give brief hugs, and I start to leave. I turn back only once.

You look different than I remember. You look, older. Slightly pudgy. You're hair is still auburn, and you have enough freckles to mimic the constellations. You're wearing a black shirt, and dark blue jeans. Black isn't flattering to such a light skin tone. Someone should tell you. But, that someone isn't me.

You hug me one last time.
" My baby" you say. Barely an audible whisper. For a second, I embrace this. I buy into it. It's comforting, this bond we are supposed to have. I want to stay with you longer. Listen to you talk. Listen to your stories,your dreams, your life. I want to understand all of this shit. I want to hear it from you! Tell me ! Please, please give me some sort of peace!

As always, you don't deliver.

We ride to the restaraunt in silence. I am overwhelmed. Disenchanted with your reality. Heavy with despondency.

" How are you?" Dave asks

Fine.

I open the card that came with my gift.
" Happy belated birthday. Love, Mommy"

The letters seem to dance across the page. As if to gain my attention, if only for a moment.
I shoved it back into the envelope.

Insanity has taken over in my household.Apparently, my parents are " college nazis"


College nazi;

/Kah-ledge- nah-ts-ee/
–noun
1.
any of numerous, cheifly annoying, ancestor, precursor, or progenitor who feel the need to badger their offspring incessantly about the importance of getting into Ivy League schools. Often found wandering around the house looking for more work to be done. Feeds on "A's" on report cards, and teacher recommendations.


My parent's never leave me alone. No matter what I do, my parents pester me. My 3.78 GPA isn't enough. It needs to be higher. HIGHER. HIGHER.


Their constant " If you don't do amazingly on your SATS, you will go to community college, and fail." schticks are getting old.


I feel I shall lose my mind.

Delivering signs and dusting from their eyes

So, I've been thinking about you lately.
And, I wonder. Do I ever cross you're mind?

On my birthday, of course. I already knew that one. When is your birthday? I don't even know. All those little details have slowly seeped from my mind. Much as I've tried to hang on to them. I remember when I saw you a year or so ago. For the first time in so long. You sat on the couch near me, and I edged away.

"We're all here" you said "a family"

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

What have I lost from being without you?


It's too late for me to be awake.


I count the days the Great Frontier. Forgiving, faced the seventh year I stand in awe of gratefulness. I can and call forgetfulness

Ever Falling Down

Alot is going on . But what's so new about that? I've had to do a lot of re-evaluating and self examination lately, and truly? I don't like what I see.

What have I become?

A hypocrite.

I claim to be a Christian, and I claim to to know God, but what on earth am I talking about? Sure, I know what I'm supposed to do. Do I do it? No. I'm farther away from God than I have been in a long time, and it's my doing. I ignore my moral values. I ignore my Christian friends. I let temptation and sin seep into my life like poison, and I'm so...tired of it.

One day, I'm going to have to answer for all of this . I'll have to look Him in the face, and explain myself. When questioned, what will I do? Cry? Beg? Explain away my past errors? How do I explain setting foot on a path so blatantly treacherous? '

I don't even know myself anymore.

God help me for ever finding out.

Through the day , as if on an ocean waiting here , always failing to remember why we came.


Italy is actually happening. I almost can't believe it. Except, I had better get used to the idea fast because I have five months to basically become amazing in Italian, get my visa, apply for college, finish my graduation project, and do 60 hours community service for graduation.
Maybe I'll be too busy with preparations to really notice the fact that I am literally leaving everyone and everything I've ever known. I'll be thousands of miles away. That's sort of a frightening thought for me. What will I do without skipper. What about Erica, who I talk to everyday for hours? Who will I confide in? My parents? My friends? What will I do? How will it feel, I wonder, to walk through security at the airport, and leave behind everything? It'll feel exhilerating, terrifying, and sad. But it will also feel liberating, I can imagine. Finally, to get away from everything stupid here. Everything stupid I've ever done. In Europe, nobody will know who I am. Nobody will see those mistakes etched on my face.

here we are. stuck by this river. you and I, underneath the sky that's ever falling down

Breezes

It's beautiful out. it's nearly 9:30 at night , but the air is still warm and complacent. All of the windows in my house are open, and a warm breeze is circulation through the house, enveloping me. My house is dark. The dog is asleep, and the kitten is relaxing on the couch. My sheets and comforters are in the dryer ,and I look forward to sleeping in something clean and warm tonight. I have the TV on mute, and the office is only illuminated by the light of the computer screen. I hear ticking. I assume it's the clocks. I say clock's because we have many. Many exotic, original, handmade clocks that my mom finds in exotic, original shops in the ever -so-ethnic downtown Bethlehem. My favorite one is a big rectangle, with three rectangles cut out of the middle of it. I can barely see what time it is on this particular clock, as its all in roman numerals, and covered in frilly swirly designs. But it's my favorite just the same, as it reminds me of something beautiful out there. My house is full of strange things such as this. Things from ( or at least inspired by) far away places.

I've never been good at leaving. Or, letting go rather. I'm always the type of person who keeps friendships, keeps things going. I want to go, I want to stay. Change, as inevitable as it is, is difficult.

The night is still warm, and the breeze is still flowing in and out of the windows.

It's sort of late, and I'm sort of tired.

I've decided that I no longer know anybody.

What a relief it will be to, next year, step foot in another country, and actually NOT know anyone , as opposed to my current situation where it seems I am continually disippointed by the people who I am supposed to care about. Nobody is who they seem. What a despairing thought!I feel as though I am constantly exerting myself; forever trying to beee nice to everyonnnee. Not pissss offf anyonneee. And in return? I get shit smeared on my face. Every time. At this point, it's like, what IS the point? I defend people, and then get treated like shit. It's so frusterating. School is slowly becoming intolerable, as everyday I'm confronted by how shitty of a friend I really am.

Whatever.

http://www.jackson.k12.mo.us/vocal/Audio/HS/Chamber/14%20My%20Master%20From%20a%20Garden%20Rose/14%20My%20Master%20From%20a%20Garden%20Rose.htm

My Master in a garden lay, perfumed with spices rare; for tender hands had laid Him there , to rest amid the roses. On cross they laid Him bare, and pierced His hands with nails, that we might live again .

I remember it clearly. Even though the evening was rather sophmoric. Banal, even. I fell asleep late that evening, heedless of my promise to go to church the next morning. I woke up in a fine mood. Maybe even a good mood. At this point, I really couldn't tell you anymore. But there was none of that " I had a feeling something was wrong" stuff that you always hear about.

The day was very much like today. It was cold, and there might have been a little bit of snow on the ground. Maybe. There was a breeze. The air was algid, and frost swirled and spiraled around our feet. The sky was clear, and the clouds had that pinkish tint to them all day. Very light at the edges, then greyish salmon and blue within the center.

That was a year ago. How can that be? In my mind, it has not been that long. It seems like only yesterday. But in reality, time has truly passed. When I think of all the things that have happened since then, the numbers are great. The emotions are so fresh in my mind, but my memory has dulled.


My Master from a garden rose to go for us to heaven, and He will come and take us there. Take us there to be with Him . To be with him forever. Alleluia!

http://www.jackson.k12.mo.us/vocal/Audio/HS/Chamber/14%20My%20Master%20From%20a%20Garden%20Rose/14%20My%20Master%20From%20a%20Garden%20Rose.htm

My Master in a garden lay, perfumed with spices rare; for tender hands had laid Him there , to rest amid the roses. On cross they laid Him bare, and pierced His hands with nails, that we might live again .

I remember it clearly. Even though the evening was rather sophmoric. Banal, even. I fell asleep late that evening, heedless of my promise to go to church the next morning. I woke up in a fine mood. Maybe even a good mood. At this point, I really couldn't tell you anymore. But there was none of that " I had a feeling something was wrong" stuff that you always hear about.

The day was very much like today. It was cold, and there might have been a little bit of snow on the ground. Maybe. There was a breeze. The air was algid, and frost swirled and spiraled around our feet. The sky was clear, and the clouds had that pinkish tint to them all day. Very light at the edges, then greyish salmon and blue within the center.

That was a year ago. How can that be? In my mind, it has not been that long. It seems like only yesterday. But in reality, time has truly passed. When I think of all the things that have happened since then, the numbers are great. The emotions are so fresh in my mind, but my memory has dulled.


My Master from a garden rose to go for us to heaven, and He will come and take us there. Take us there to be with Him . To be with him forever. Alleluia!

2006

Through the past year, alot has happened.
As a Christian, I've experienced both the joy's and sadness of life in Christ.
As a teenager, I've seen alot of craziness,fought alot of fights, lost a few people in my life, and have gained a tremendous amount of self apprehension and insight.
I've learned that things are not always blissful, but (as always) there is a silver lining to every cloud, despite how hard it is at the moment to recognize it.

Cheesy, no?


It's true. Shit happens. But there's always something revitalizing, loving , and placatory to be found. There's beauty out there. Real, attainable, semblant beauty. There's always a lesson to be learned.



Good can come from the worst experiences, but not if you forget to remember.

So today, January 5th 2007, I'll remember.
I'll recall my visit to Texas, when I realized not everything was how I wanted it to be. How I dreamed it would be.
I'll recall March 5th, 2006. A day when the calm was shattered, friendships put to the test, and lives lost. I'll recollect all I gained from the experience, as well as all I lost.
I'll commemorate the day of my baptism, April 15th, and I'll relive how holding the light of Christ in my hands felt.
I'll revive the day that I realized, things don't always go as planned.


As humans, we place ourselves into an un-known world of faith. A world where only the mighty of heart are willing to go. It is a journey all its own, and we can only trust that our spirits know the way. For we cannot see what lies ahead, and we cannot pave the future of it. We must but honorably walk forward. We are, by relinquishing, surrendering to faith.

So as you make your choices and prepare yourself to live among them, do all you can to live honestly with yourself. It would be impossible not to have expectations, but know they are just that. Your greatest growth and joy will come when you have the ability to search for hope and promise in the unexpected.

Happy New Year.