Writing To Document Different Swings...

     What does it take to be happy? I wish I knew, sometimes I feel in kilter and alright, but once I open the door for the question I am over flooded with emotions more often than not sadness, sorrow. It has usually felt for me that as long as I remain in action I can stay composed but when it stops, or when I am still I crumble, always this feeling, a void. I am feeling this now,  I just stormed away all because of a remark for interrupting, my own fault, it not a normal way to react. I don't expect normalcy, I don't believe in normalcy; but I wish I could change this in me, I usually have flashes that I often regret, asking for forgiveness does not feel like enough. It takes a lot to control myself at times like this and I don't always achieve it, it's instant regret. I don't stay mad for long, but I remain feeling guilty for the outburst for a long, long while. In painting I was told quite often that it was as if I where two people; as far as emotions are concerned I feel that way how can one be so enamored by life when the other is in pain, regretting, and containing the tears. Where is the balance? Which is the self?
     Silent Sadness, stashed away for me, it has a terrible way of creeping up, simply enveloping me, brought on by anything making me desolate. In my opinion my nature is melancholic, for a while most people disagreed, but I am becoming more able to cope, I think. I am fixing myself little by little.

Soundtrack: The Perishers - Nothing Like You and I

I woke up during a pivotal point in my dream and this is probably why I can still some of it. The earliest fragment I can remember was being at Austin (not the real Austin, TX but the one from my dream things are much closer and the weather is much nicer) I was exploring there and had walked to the next town and back to meet my mother. I had told her of the small travels I had done in the area even though I knew she would be worried about my doing this all on foot. The countryside by the city was lovely, now that I am awake I realize that it was very similar to that of Eger in Hungary. We went to have dinner, yet sometime during this I became a different person. I had an office type of job and at a subway station I ran across someone I seemingly already knew and was in love with. The color palette in the dream changed and now it was cold and grayer. As time passed however my acquaintance began to blend unto the wall of the subway, little by little until just his head and arm were out, he was still able to speak... the feeling at this moment was quite eerie and as I was trying to get an explanation of what was occurring my alarm sounded, everything vanished, how I detest for a dream to end on a cliffhanger.

Conversations About Virginia Woolf, Vampires, and How to Commit Suicide....

        Yesterday was my fist day of summer classes Biology I and Biology Lab not exactly a fun class that will absorb my mind, but when faced with the thought of doing it for a month now or an entire semester doing it now seem like the much nicer option; I don't doubt that my future self will appreciate it. It was just lab safety dos and don'ts so I got off about an hour and a half early. I wandered about campus looking for a cool place to be, I wound up at Starbucks. After some tea a string of events led me shatter a long held belief that I do not like to talk on the telephone. A friend and I had had trouble communicating for a couple of days now, so I gave him a good trip call. A conversation with this particular friend can brand from amusing to something that will bring a bit of enlightenment. After conversing for a bit I was abruptly asked "What do you know about Virginia Woolf?" I knew nothing, half a second later I began to learn about her, about a movie (one that I had been meaning to watch, ah the wonderful circles of life) The Hours and how Woolf had committed suicide, she filled her clothing with stones and then jumped to a river. leaving a beautiful letter to her husband.
               Dearest, I feel certain that I am going mad again. I feel we can't go through another of those terrible times. And I shan't recover this time. I begin to hear voices, and I can't concentrate. So I am doing what seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible happiness. You have been in every way all that anyone could be. I don't think two people could have been happier 'til this terrible disease came. I can't fight any longer. I know that I am spoiling your life, that without me you could work. And you will I know. You see I can't even write this properly. I can't read. What I want to say is I owe all the happiness of my life to you. You have been entirely patient with me and incredibly good. I want to say that – everybody knows it. If anybody could have saved me it would have been you. Everything has gone from me but the certainty of your goodness. I can't go on spoiling your life any longer. I don't think two people could have been happier than we have been. V
           After hearing this letter and reading it we began to ponder on how we would commit suicide, never with water drowning is dreadful, perhaps jumping off a building? my friend felt that it was the quickest and surest way since taking shooting oneself is not certain there is always the chance that you might miss and just take a long time to die, or end up paralyzed, wrist slitting would not even be considered since I faint at the sight of blood, however I would opt for jumping off a bridge, just make sure that it is high enough my friend decided that jumping of an airplane and not using his parachute. Strange, strange conversations but after discussing suicide for a bit we concluded with the thought that we did not and hoped to never commit suicide. After wishing him a safe trip and a talk about vampires we said good bye, and it dawned on me, I had been on the phone for a little over an hour, perhaps I don't mind phone talking the way I had always thought so. And a perfect ending to a blog entry, albeit completely unrelated, a lovely the Little Prince image.

Paper-cuts and Blind Pilot...

Yesterday I was thinking how often people give flowers and though I love that, I have always been or a rather romantic nature, it is rather sad to give each other something that will no longer have life in it. The last few times that I have seen a pretty flower and automatically leaned to grab it something has help me back, told me to let it be and let it grow. A wise friend told me to follow my intuition, and I am trying to pay close attention to it and follow it;  it's hard but I try to stay aware and remain open, I no longer an so careless. I think it would be even more lovely to give each other seeds or potted flowers, if its a memento of fond feelings isn't something that has the possibility to grow better that something that will just whither  away?