Untitled

I feel like I'm drowning...

Unstoppable

“Sit down. You’ll be all right; just work hard, learn your words, turn up on time, be bold and the greater gods will come to your aid.”

-Anthony Hopkins

This comes from a man who has an incredibly versatile filmography and doesn’t blink at all during a very influential film.

I will listen to this man, I've decided.

Anthony Hopkins, I can do this.

Oh, call you Tony? If you insist . . .

Tony, thank you for this.

I will be all right.

Work hard?

            What do you think I’ve been doing Tony?

Learn my words?

            Ha! I live my words.

Turn up on time?

            . . . progress . . . baby steps . . .

Be bold?

I will be so bold the world will feel like they just got twerked upon at the MTV Music Awards.

The greater gods?

No—God.

The God won’t come to my aid . . .

Because Tony, he’s already here.

            Giving me the strength to work hard,

            Helping me to live those words,

            Waking me up from the silliness that makes me late,

            Showing me that I have the courage to be bold.

Oh, Tony, I’ll be much more than all right my friend--

I’ll be unstoppable.

A Bridge over Troubled Water

In winter, as in the spring, and like the summer,

I have been there for you.

Whether rock or stone or bridge over troubled water,

My shoulders are yours to cry on.

My hands—no matter how broken—I give to you.

Lord knows I haven’t got much, But if you needed it

I’d give it.

There is little else in this world we can give one another,

For there is little else in this world we covet most.

But the touch of hands, the press of arms, the presence of body.

These are the gifts I can give without pause.

I will never be able to mend your broken dreams,

Nor will I ever know how to soothe those pains deep inside of you.

But I can promise you I will be there.

I can promise you you’ll never have to be alone.

I will never know how to say “I Love you” the way you need it,

But I can tell you “I’m here”,

And I can mean it.

In winter, as in the spring, and like the summer,

I will always be here for you.

 

 

In life, there are many things within our power to change. We can change our appearance, our location, our opinions, our tastes, virtually anything if we have the mind to do it. But Like Love, there is something else we cannot change—though we try. We have no power of those we need most. Even if we try isolating ourselves from anyone we might grow to Love, we cannot change those that understand us deeply. If we could, there would always be pieces of ourselves we kept hidden. But as it turns out, there is always someone born with the eyes to see right into our very existence and see us for who we are. They are the people we lean on, and the people we hold to when life is beyond our control. They are our rocks. Even when a mother should be her son’s rock, I find myself holding her up when she falls down.

 

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me.

I’m sorry I didn’t know how to say the right thing.

I’m sorry I fell down.

But my shoulders are only so strong, and my hands already so broken.

I’m sorry.

 

"What makes loneliness an anguish is not that I have no one to share my burden, but this: I have only my own burden to bear."
  

The Love Me Rule with a Premise and Conclusion

“I think a lot of art is trying to make someone love you.”

-Keaton

Philosophy 101 at CU Boulder has taught me two things:

1) How to sleep with my eyes open.

2) How to form an argument:

Premise

Premise

Premise

(how ever many fucking premises you feel like presenting)

Conclusion

(you may now draw a smiley face beneath your conclusion because by George you have just done some important work here my friend)

J

Never forget the smiley face.

Simple enough? Great. Want an example? Excellent.

Get ready.

I want too much from you.       (premise #1)

I lean too heavily on you.          (premise #2)

I need you too much.                  (premise #3)                                

You want her.                                (premise #4)

You lean on her.                            (premise #5)

You need her.                                (and premise number fucking 6 bitches)

I am number two. I am not chosen. You will leave me. (conclusions)

J

And there it is. There it’s been. There it will always be.

This argument has followed me around since birth.

This argument has inserted itself into every single one of my relationships.

This argument has therefore become my argument.

Well look at that folks! We just formed an argument about my argument.

Nifty shit right there.

Here, let’s add this to make it official:

J

I think you’ve got it now. You now know how to state facts and make a conclusion based on them.

Congratulations.

You’ve just graduated the second grade.

Ouch.

But don’t despair just yet friends . . .

What the second graders don’t know,

what the schools don’t teach them,

what the schools can’t teach them,

is how to accept this conclusion.

Take it from me children, it comes with time.

Well that time has come.

I’ve accepted it.

Acceptance is not as magical as it sounds, however.

The moment of acceptance came this evening on the wings of words meant for another. It put a damper on my nightly chai tea hour. It ruined my cheerful day. It prevented me from rising from the chair I saw it come in on. It thwarted my last attempt at breaking this argument, my argument. It came and showed me that the conclusion previously stated, the one above, the one that promises “you will leave me”, will never stand corrected. 

Never.

I was absolutely catatonic until you pulled me out. I was in a state of crippling numbness after all that had happened, all of the arguments that were proven to be correct. I shut off that place inside me that allows people in. I put walls up that I had no intention of taking down. 

But you took them down. 

You gave me hope that not every time would end that way. 

You made me believe that I was worthy of being chosen. 

You made me feel okay again. 

You helped me breathe again, forgetting why I had stopped breathing in the first place. 

You gave me all of these things and I am grateful.

But without realizing it, we had formed a friendship. A friendship that was much more than it was before, full of meaning and depth.

Without realizing it, I began to want you to always be there.

You were.

Without realizing it, I started to lean on you too much.

You held me up.

Before I knew it, I woke up with you lying next to me and I realized that I had begun to need you.

Shit.

I need you in my life.

Oh shit.

Not the arbitrary “oh, I need ya in my life buddy” need, but the “please do not exit this room because I am afraid I will stop breathing once you do” need.  The necessary-for-my-life need.

Oh no.

What a dangerous thing to need.

A person.

But not just any person.

You.

You had to be the one I ended up needing!

Don’t you know my arugument??

Don’t you know my conclusion??

Why would you make me need you if you knew how it would end for me?

That you would leave me.

Like everyone does.

Those words, those beautiful words had me heartbroken.

Your speech, your declaration of realization had me

down

on

the

ground.

I’ve felt this before. I’ve ignored it.

When she calls you with important news, when you call her with something ridiculously trivial.

It’s a dance I cannot dance to.

I’ve tried to join in but I just can’t learn the steps.

But I understand your words.

She’s the ying to your yang.

I know the depth of feeling you have for her.

Well she is amazing!

She pulled me out of a place so dark I couldn’t even see!

I love her to death.

I love you to death.

And I even think you love me, when I’m not forcing you to say it.

I shouldn’t have tried to make you love me.

I will never be the calm to her storm.

            I will never be the refuge she goes to.

And you will never write pages on how I am part of you.

I don’t think you think of me as part of you like she is.

Please understand me.

You have this right.

You are entitled to this closeness I cannot get close to.

It’s okay.

It seems that you have a connection that cannot be duplicated with another.

It seems that you two have something with each other that is untouchable, just as it should be.

You’ve known her longer. You’ve been through more with her.

She was part of you and now that she’s gone you feel lost.

You feel lost and I can’t guide you.

I’ve found that I need you but you can’t find me.

I am second to her.

You don’t need me.

You’ll leave me, if you haven’t already left.

And even now I’m second-guessing your meaning in those words.

Was it me they were meant for?

Were they addressed to another completely?

Were they meant for no one?

Yet, I’ve had this thought before.

She said that’s her.

I second-guessed their meaning and look where it got me.

Where have these hours gone?

There’s so much more to say . . .

I haven’t the time or strength to reveal anymore of my turmoil to you though.

Forgive the mistakes.

And remember that not a breath goes by that I do not question.

My life is art.

My life is the dark art created by the wounded soul.

My life is the art that people don’t want to buy because they already know how it will end.

My life is trying to make someone love me.

J

A Time Before This One

There was a time--before this one,

when you and I ,

we were unstoppable.

Batman & Robin, Cher &Sonny, Will &Grace.

There was nothing between us and the whole world ahead of us.

With you at my side I knew there was nothing I couldn't do.

But that was another time--and this is now.

Now there's you and there's me, miles in between.

Without you, Without me, Without us,

There's only half of who I used to be.

Ann Shirley once said she had waited her whole life to find a kindred spirit, a person in whom she could confide her deepest soul. I don't think many of us find that person. Not only is it hard to find someone who fits us so completely, but it's harder still to let go of our wall. To give our weaknesses and vulnerabilities to another person to help protect. It's hard to say "I trust you completely, and I want you to know me. The real me." But once you do, it's like breathing for the first time. There's nothing quite like having someone you can share your life with. Someone to share your happiness, your sadness, and every day in between. And to that all I can say is thank you. Thank you to my kindred spirit. Thank you for giving me you. You'll have a place in my heart as long as you might need it, and even when you don't want it.



"When love leaves...whisper thank you, for stopping by"
                                          ~Sarah Kay and Phil Kaye

Sometimes we forget that Love, was never ours to have. Sometimes we try putting love on speed dial and we think "it'll be there when I need it". We become comfortable with the way love feels, and we even forget to wake up and say thank you for being here. Then when we wake up one day and find that Love is no longer sleeping next to us, and that Love has changed it's number we demand to know what reason Love has for leaving. Then we ask what we did, and why Love doesn't want to Love us anymore. Sometimes, we forget that Love was never ours to have. We think that we can stop it from leaving and that if we just try hard enough we can stop Love from escaping. But Love was never ours to have. Love comes when it is needed, and leaves when it must. If there's anything I believe in, it's Love. No matter how hard it is sometimes and no matter how hopeless it might seem, I know that Love exists. I know it so completely and without doubt. It is faith in it's purest. I can't explain it, and I can't give you proof. I can't even promise that Love will find you someday. But I an tell you without hesitation that Love is why. Why we breathe, why we live, why we get up each day even when everything tells us we shouldn't. It is for Love that we do these things, and it is for Love that I will try again tomorrow. We must always try again, because there will always be Love and it takes only a single moment to know that Love is enough. It will always be enough. But we must also know that when Love must once again leave, it is not because of some fault of our own, it is because that is the way it was always meant to be. Love needs no other reason. "To love another person is to see the face of God".

Fairies Don't Make Sense (And the World is Full of Fairies)

“When you stare ahead and darkness is all you see, only reason and determination can pull you back from the abyss.”

-Emily

Pretty great quote, right? Feeling inspired?

When I first heard this, so was I. And then I realized two things:

1. I can almost never see reason.

2. Determination from me is   damn  near  impossible.

Well shit. What happens to this little gem of a quote then? I can see the darkness—oh I’m in the fucking darkness—but I cannot find this “reason” and “determination” that claim to save me.

How does one see reason when nothing in this world makes sense?

Nothing.

Does it make sense that someone who looks so put together all the time goes absolute ape-shit by completely losing her mind over nothing? Does it make sense for a daughter to have to remind her father how to be a father? Does it make sense to be afraid to go to sleep so you don’t have to relive every event, every stupid decision you’ve ever made over and over and over again until you are screaming your lungs out for mercy? Does it make sense that the kindest, most beautiful and forgiving souls among us are to follow the fate of the ordinary? Does it make sense that the two people who claim to love each other more than anything are the two who fight the worst? Does it make sense to be unsure of everything you do? Does it make sense to question every movement, every sentence, every word, and every breath? Does it make sense that there’s cancer, war, floods, unhappy people, shitty cups of coffee, kitchen-loving ants, dirty clothes, unframed pictures, beds without headboards, germs, friends that aren’t aware of a friend’s deep-rooted fear of germs, traffic, empty gas tanks, empty stomachs, water-susceptible coats, malfunctioning car engines, sinus infections, chipped nail polish, mountains of homework, eating disorders, heavy backpacks, worn-out toothbrushes, last tissues, headaches, tears, awkwardness, jealousy, resentment, anger, ignorance, insecurity, revenge, worry, regret, gluttony, fear, misery, heartache, sorrow, desolation, dejection, grief, and the complete and utter lack of feeling anything at all?

And strangest, most baffling of all . . .

Does it make sense to want to stay in this darkness?

         To be consumed by that delicious darkness?

If you haven’t figured it out by now, the answer is

no.

It does not. make. sense.

And after considering all of these wonderful things in the world that make no sense at all, how on earth, pray tell, does one find the determination to pull oneself back from the abyss we’ve been warned about? Ooooooo! Is it my lucky day? Will a fairy princess come to sprinkle me with magic determination dust to jump-start me into action with a fresh pair of legs? Will a group of forest animals help me clean my apartment? Will I stumble upon a glass fucking slipper? Will I kiss a frog that will turn into a prince and save me from the world? Will I find a floating carpet that will carry me away?

No.

None of these.

My life is not a fucking fairytale. It’s the opposite of one.

The Huns will get me.

The Wolf will eat me.

The Beast will throw me out the window of the ballroom.

I’ll prick my finger on that damn spindle and go into a coma.

And this, my friends, is why I ask you now:

Where am I to find the determination in this world?

I’ve looked outside and inside, up and down, but I am lost.

I am just plain lost in the darkness.

Without a light.

An Everyday Effort

"You have a choice. Live or die. Every breath is a choice. Every minute is a choice. To be or not to be."
                  ~Chuck Palahniuk 

     I think that as a society we drastically undervalue the process of breathing. We take it for granted and just assume that it will happen on its own. And sure, I guess we don't really have to think about the relaxation of the diaphragm and the negative pressure gradient that causes the lungs to inflate with oxygen. But breathing--that's something different entirely. For example, the fact that I am consciously breathing right now is the result of an extraordinary effort. The fact that everyday I wake up and decide to continue breathing is an extraordinary effort. My choice to purposely breathe deeply rather than grab the nearest blunt object and smash everything around me into a million tiny pulverized pieces is in and of itself an extraordinary decision. Therefore I think that breathing has become dangerously underrated in today's world. Let's say that the entire world decided they were no longer going to breathe, they'd might as well just stop living. It's much like the subtle difference between being alive and living. While one is perfectly easy to do, the other requires risk and a certain level of uncertainty. Every time we choose to breathe, to be aware in every moment that we are living and interacting with the world around us, we choose to acknowledge the uncertainty of the world around us. It's easy to get lost in a world with billions of people all moving around you, but every breath we take is the result of a profound decision to keep on going. To keep on living. And that is exactly the point I'm trying to get at. All we have to do in life is try. Labels like "success" and "failure", and any words that try to measure our existence are all utterly insignificant because the effort it takes to really live, to really experience something, is immense and so all we need to do is try. Consciously make an effort, and even if it goes nowhere it's only important that you try. That you decided to take that breathe and wake up the next day  and even if you know you'll fail you fail a different way than you did yesterday. Just keep trying. Keep breathing. Keep on with the keepin' on.

Picture Show

"You could get used to almost anything."
-Bridget

I saw you last night. We made everything okay, you had reasons for those things that were said and done. They were valid, they made sense. You were sorry--not just the brushed off sorry you fed me before. No, you were truly sorry, and I could see it in your face. It was etched with pain and regret for hurting me. "Lets try again," you said, "It'll be different this time, I promise. You are more than the person I couldn't say no to." Was I? Was I more than an experiment?

No . . . something didn't sound right. My brain detected the lie. Reality crept into the scene, I began to see the impossibility. You lie! Again you lie to me. You're so convincing.
You convince me with your words.
Stop talking.
You convince me with your eyes.
Stop looking at me.
You convinced me with your lips.        Or did I convince myself?
Stop kissing me.
But you did stop.
There. It. Is.
You stopped while I hung on, and I knew it then. If I'm being honest, I knew it before it even began.
So if that's true, why did I continue? Did I think that I could change you? Make you whole?
Two halves don't make a whole, and we're two jagged, rusty halves.

You saw the change in my eyes go from belief to betrayal, the yearning remained. We both knew that I could never have you. This was acknowledged in the silence. This movie was played out. I felt myself leaving, I have to try to mend.
. . . But this is impossible, for we will meet again.



And then I woke up.

The Shits

Let's be honest. Sometimes life is just the shits. It's all over the place, it stinks, and there's nothing you can do but let it happen. And that's what I've been doing. Letting shit happen. But there comes a point when you done shit so much you find yourself askin' God, "where do I go next?"
These last couple of weeks I've been waiting to hear the answer and just when I thought I'd never get the answer, there it was. Right in front of me all along. But I'm getting ahead of myself. My problem was that I had forgotten what was important to me in life, something I had never thought I'd forget. I was questioning my entire future and every thing I had done in my life. Where was I going? What was my plan? How will I make a living? On and on and on, there is no end to the questions when you forget the very basics. Here I was asking how I could possibly be happy for the rest of my life studying science and medicine and I forgot the reason I wanted to study medicine in the first place. It was never about the science, or the money, or the time, it was about the people. Helping people find happiness. That's what life should be about, finding happiness. No matter where you find it or how long it takes to get there, that should be the reason we do the things we do in life. Because we love to do it and it makes us happy. Even when we're knee deep in shit, and we can't see the path ahead, all we need to do is listen to our hearts and follow where it leads. And so to that I say, fuck Pepto-Bismol. Be happy.

You're Gonna Feel This in the Morning

"I've got that twisted feeling inside that comes from enjoying something I know I'll regret later."
-Gemma Doyle

We've all felt it. We've all ignored it. We've all regretted it. And repeat.
Why is that?
Do we LIKE the feeling of doing something fucked up and bad for us? I think we do. I do. I do these things to wake myself up, to snap myself out of this fog, this dream I've been living in for so long. Maybe I have to do something horrible just to go on living . . . but in that lies a catch 22 . . .
Do we WANT, do we NEED to be stopped? To be caught? It's a circle, a cycle that will keep repeating Itself until something or someone stops it. Can I be that something? Can you be that someone?
We all just want to be caught.
So catch me.