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.

I Never Knew

And just as I know not where you have gone; I know not where to go. I am thinking of you now, who were my trusted companion .You I loved. Can you be happy where you are? If I only could've known, I'd have protected you as you protected me. But I never knew, I never knew.

Christmas is upon us, which means a new year is right around the bend. I, for one, cannot wait for 2006 to be over. I had my triumphs, and my sadness. I loved, and I lost. I felt bitterness and resentment that cannot be paralled. I've felt grief so enduring, I thought it would never lift.

I have this illusion in my mind that when the clock strikes midnight, everything will be gone. All the pain of this past year will be suddenly lifted, like some sort of opaque curtain. Perhaps this will happen. It will after all, be a new year. A new beginning, if you will. A chance to start over. To heal. To move on.

And at the same time, there's sadness in this this. This "moving on".
Because, unavoidingly , by moving forward, we are leaving something behind. We are leaving people places in 2006, as we progress to 2007. It's the final realization. The passing of time. The realization that things change; and that despite these changes, life goes on.

Everything subsides with the passage of time in a way. The adage "Time heals" has somehow proven true. When the first significant death in my life occured, and someone first told me about how "time heals all things", I was incredulous and refused to believe that it was even a possibility.

Time passes. This we can be sure of. Even though sometimes, we wish it didn't. We wish we could freeze a moment in time, and cradle it forever.

So, at 11:59, I'll go . I'll move timidly into the new year. I'll feel bad, no doubt. I feel guilty moving on with my life, as ones I love are stuck here forever. Right before the ball drops, I know that I'll look back, as if asking for approval.

" Go on" they'll tell me.

And that's exactly what I'll do.


I never knew That you would remain where other birds took flight. And if I had, would I have clung to you? I never knew.

Underappreciated

Unappreciated is the worst thing anyone can be.
and that, my friends, is a fact.

So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten . Days are like birds, flying always over the mountain

Thanksgiving day is just around the corner. And boy, oh boy do I love Thanksgiving. Not in that fatkidwholovesmashedpotatoesandgravywithahintofapplepie way, but Thanksgiving has always been my favorite Holiday.

"WHAT ?!" you ask me. "WHAT ABOUT CHRISTMAS! WITH THE PRESENTS! AND THE ENDLESS ARRAY OF SHINY THINGS!"

Yes, I love love love Christmas. I do. And its definitely my second favorite.

But Thanksgiving, thats something totally different.

Grandparents day is tomorrow at my school.
My grandpa, who in blood is my great step -uncle, lives in Pleasantville, New York (a suburb where the rich NYC yuppies live). I have asked him and my grandmother to come every single year I've been at LVPA (okay, its only two, but I said it for effect)
And every year, because its so close to thanksgiving, and because PA is 2 and a half hours from their home, it never works out. They host thanksgiving, and traveling 200 miles 2 days before they have 40 guest in their home, doesn't sound too good.

Anyway, this year, I asked. As always. But, without much hope.
My grandma couldn't come. But my grandpa said he'd try(even though his daughter and her 3 kids are visiting)

So , he's calling me tonight to let me know.

I told him " Pee-pah, I know it's far, and it's early in the morning. Your daughters visiting, and I'll see you in Thursday anyway. I'd love for you to come, but it's not mandatory"

"No, no no." He said " Your my grandaughter. Even though by blood your not related at all, I have a special place for you in my soul. Your great, and I want to come see you sing, and see what your school is all about. I could tell you I'd definitely come next year, but you never know about next year."

Next year. We really don't know, do we? Sometimes, things come unexpectantly, and slap us in our ever-knowing faces.


So, today as I listen to Verdis Requiem, and contemplate what I need to be thankful for, I realized that their is so , so much.

I have an amazing family. Two , to be exact. I have the best friend anyone could ask for, as well as tons of great friends. I have academic success, a lovely house, and an awesome school. I don't feel compelled to be like everyone else, and I have God.


What else do I honestly need?

Tangled too tight and too long to fight

There you stood on the edge of your feather, Expecting to flyWhile I laughed, I wondered whetherI could wave goodbye.Knowin' that you'd goneBy the summer . It was healing. We had said goodbye

I have nothing. Nothing that could describe exactly what goes in my mind, as if anyone would want to know anyway. I lay in bed last night, at 3AM, snuggled up tight in my 4 comforters, two sets of sheets, and five pillows. I lay in the dark-warmness, and listened to the silence. I lay thinking about things that can never be changed. The scenes lie unblemished and untouched in the dark place of my being; a place of perpetual mourning.

"One day, I'm going to fix everything" I tell myself.

"I will have such a life, that everything I've ever experienced will be balanced out".

But, of course, that's silly.

I just wish people would do for me, what I am more than willing to do for them.

So I gently surrender to these things . I surrender them by heart, by spirit,and by a reassuring peace that asked me to trust in a reason I could never explain.

beginning with confusion

we found you sleeping by your lover's stone; a ream of paper and a telephone . A broken bow across a long lost violin .Your lover's angel told the captain's man "it never ends the way we had it planned" and kissed her palm and placed it on your dreaming head

It's miraculous. My head is so stuffed with mucus and other sick-like things, but yet I still have enough room in there to throw about thoughts of addling confusion. It's saturday, and there's no end in sight.

It's negative 5 degrees in my house. I'm spending my day cleaning, with a voice lesson thrown in the picture.

Speaking of pictures, my school pictures came the other day. I look ridiculous. My head is tilted in confusion, compliments of the imbicile who snapped the photo. My mother insisted I send my new school picture to my bio-father. " He'll love it Amanda, you know that" She say's. "You also should call him , you promised you'd call him."

He doesn't want to miss out on my life. I can't decide if that's sweet, or insulting.

" You should be thankful!" everyone tells me. " You have FOUR parents who love you."
Mother #1 whos nuerotic and overprotective, who burns insence and does yoga. Who nags incessently, and collects things from India. Things with shiny deep exotic colors, colors we don't have here in NY.

Mother #2. I've only seen her once since I left.

She was bubbly, over-affectionate, and emotional. I sat on a couch with her and my birthfather, and she said to him

"it's nice to have us all together. A real family"

I sit here, and the only reason I can picture her face is because of the photo i have of her on my nightstand. I didn't have the heart to tell her.

Father #1 whos overbearing and has the expectations that reach the roof. Who's ridiculous temper matches mine.

Father #2- Easy going. Rolling in it. Tall, muscular. Physically, I'm his clone

My parents and b-parents insist they love me more than the other.

In a letter my b-mother wrote me years ago, it says:
" No one will ever love you as much as I"

That realization keeps me running forward, and I've looked back only once. I never question what I saw when I looked back, afraid of what I might find out.