I'm on a quest to find the beauty here in northern new york. it won't be hard to do. this place is it's own tinybutwonderous sanctuary to the realms beyond, only masquerading as the here and now. Living here all my life I'm sad to say I've begun to overlook so much of what this area has to offer. In too many ways I've traded the beauty for boredom, being frustrated and letting myself feel dull on Friday nights with "nothing to do". Oh, there is plenty to do! A few years from now I may no longer have a river to sit by, a clear sky to stare into or thousands of acres of woods to wander through. Then I'll be longing for one more day (just one more day!) back in this land of rushing waters.
Life goes fast. I'm young, but I know this much. And I'm tired of wishing I was somewhere else doing something else with some other people. Right now, I'm here, so here is where I'm going to be, knowing full-well I won't be here much longer. I want to leave knowing I know this place, and that I lived it.
August 30, 2009
August 27, 2009
"Freedom"
I wonder what I'm becoming.
Bananas and granola are the staples in my diet.
Running 9 miles no longer hurts, but helps. significantly.
Outside on a cold dark night, I am swept away. My insides get lost in the starry summer sky. It's so close. It's so, so close! I remember when it seemed so far away.. like it was yesterday.
Yesterday I would have seen what you saw and run the other way. Yesterday I would have tried my hardest to be your definition of perfect in every way. Yesterday I would fought, hard, to become something, anything. Yesterday my greatest fear was being misunderstood.
The truth is, I don't care so much anymore. I don't care what you see. I don't care how you interpret who I am or what I do. I don't care if you see me and get me totally, completely, entirely wrong. In fact, please do. It just might define me more.
People used to tell me I seemed so free, so light, so myself. I always laughed lightly, choked inside, and brushed it off, only to revisit it for hours on end later when I was alone by some body of water, in some vacant studio, some isolated field..
See, you never saw my tears. You never saw the hours and hours of shaking, sobbing, choking, aching. You never saw the struggle, the fight for my own soul, my own person, my own thoughts, feelings, dreams, desires, being.
Even the label "free-spirit" drowned out some of the most beautiful things inside of me. I bet you never would have guessed that.
It's one thing to become who they want you to be, letting that become who you are in the process.
It's another thing entirely to dig deep inside yourself, fighting past the expectations, the stereotypes, the comparisons, the presumptions and end with something unique, raw, bizarre, rare.
I want to live a life that demands questions. I don't want to be the girl you look at and say "oh yeah, well that makes sense," and if you knew me at all, even a little bit, you'd know - I'm not.
Nothing worth anything at all in my life has made sense. Nothing. Not a single thing.
I don't want my person to make sense. I don't want my life to make sense.. not what I do, not who I am, not what I believe for, not what I fight for. If it makes sense it's too easy.
Life's not that easy. No. In fact it's hard. Really, really hard.
You like answers. I don't have many. They're not that easy to come by.
But the little bit of substance I do have is enough for me.
Take that as you will.
Bananas and granola are the staples in my diet.
Running 9 miles no longer hurts, but helps. significantly.
Outside on a cold dark night, I am swept away. My insides get lost in the starry summer sky. It's so close. It's so, so close! I remember when it seemed so far away.. like it was yesterday.
Yesterday I would have seen what you saw and run the other way. Yesterday I would have tried my hardest to be your definition of perfect in every way. Yesterday I would fought, hard, to become something, anything. Yesterday my greatest fear was being misunderstood.
The truth is, I don't care so much anymore. I don't care what you see. I don't care how you interpret who I am or what I do. I don't care if you see me and get me totally, completely, entirely wrong. In fact, please do. It just might define me more.
People used to tell me I seemed so free, so light, so myself. I always laughed lightly, choked inside, and brushed it off, only to revisit it for hours on end later when I was alone by some body of water, in some vacant studio, some isolated field..
See, you never saw my tears. You never saw the hours and hours of shaking, sobbing, choking, aching. You never saw the struggle, the fight for my own soul, my own person, my own thoughts, feelings, dreams, desires, being.
Even the label "free-spirit" drowned out some of the most beautiful things inside of me. I bet you never would have guessed that.
It's one thing to become who they want you to be, letting that become who you are in the process.
It's another thing entirely to dig deep inside yourself, fighting past the expectations, the stereotypes, the comparisons, the presumptions and end with something unique, raw, bizarre, rare.
I want to live a life that demands questions. I don't want to be the girl you look at and say "oh yeah, well that makes sense," and if you knew me at all, even a little bit, you'd know - I'm not.
Nothing worth anything at all in my life has made sense. Nothing. Not a single thing.
I don't want my person to make sense. I don't want my life to make sense.. not what I do, not who I am, not what I believe for, not what I fight for. If it makes sense it's too easy.
Life's not that easy. No. In fact it's hard. Really, really hard.
You like answers. I don't have many. They're not that easy to come by.
But the little bit of substance I do have is enough for me.
Take that as you will.
August 22, 2009
Over Me.
Some days I'm an artist.
Some days I'm a leaf.
Some days I'm just a girl with pockets full
of sand, sea-glass, and staggered words.
I'm a recurring dream-
never leaving, never resting, always
real.
That tiny yellow bird lost in thick branches-
home.
Tell me where tell me why tell me when
or watch the raindrops join the ocean.
(today, this makes much more sense
to me)
I'm a highly influenced architect
building myself a teepee.
You can join or you can watch.
Some days I'm a leaf.
Some days I'm just a girl with pockets full
of sand, sea-glass, and staggered words.
I'm a recurring dream-
never leaving, never resting, always
real.
That tiny yellow bird lost in thick branches-
home.
Tell me where tell me why tell me when
or watch the raindrops join the ocean.
(today, this makes much more sense
to me)
I'm a highly influenced architect
building myself a teepee.
You can join or you can watch.
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