she carried around sadness and hurt like stones in her pockets. often she forgot they were there but when she got into deep water they weighed her down.

black coffee with sugar, latin & french and dust on my dress and my knees and in my hair from kneeling & lying prostrate on the floor during opera scene rehearsal, trekking downtown portland in search of gluten-free food, achy feet, feeling strangely light of body and mind despite impending doom (piano jury, opening night, & graduation all within six days of each other).

a large part of me has always struggled with a need for my external appearance to reflect my internal emotions when i’m incapable of expressing myself verbally (which is often). when i was younger this manifested itself really negatively in self-harming behavior, but now i can channel most of it into artistic expression through music (singing). the little bits that are left over accumulate until they add up to some sort of radical (for me) act or major change in physical appearance.

for me and for some of the people around me.

so i shaved my head.

well, not really. it’s a buzz cut. my sister helped me with it last wednesday. the real reasons are sort of convoluted and many-faceted and still not completely straight in my own head, but i felt like i needed to. i cried in my mother’s bathroom, and the boy held my hand the entire time with an odd mixture of pride and tenderness in his eyes, and then gathered up all of the copper-gold ribbons falling on the floor into a wastebasket and kissed my earlobe. what’s left is soft and downy and sort of the same shade as mouse fur.

and to my intense surprise, i love it.

life isn’t any less out of control, but at least now i have one thing less to worry about when i am getting ready in the morning to go out in public.

I’m dating my best friend.

this is entirely personal, so i’m not representing christianity at large or—oh for goodness’ sake, just say what i want to say:

i get uncomfortable/upset with people who claim to have all the answers about how to live and how to “make it” to happiness/fulfillment in a very specific way because i think we should be acknowledging and embracing diversity as beautiful and healthy and holy. i mean, look at nature: biodiversity is CRUCIAL for survival and our food sources are getting totally screwed up because it all comes from a very genetically narrow (not to mention artificially modified) base that becomes less and less nutritious and fortifying with every crop rotation and breeding season. similarly, we become more and more divided from each other and from ourselves every time we put up a wall because we can’t love “the other.” THERE IS NO OTHER! we are all the body and the cancer and disease comes from dualistic, exclusive mindsets, not from parts of the body.

actually, you know what? i’m not going to apologize for what i post, even if it is trivial and personal. i originally created this blog as an semi-anonymous journal/digital media scrapbook, as a relatively safe space to write whatever i want, with very limited readership from people who know me personally. something i can look back on and see how i’ve grown and changed and how i’ve remained the same.

i’ve spent most of my life apologizing and hiding behind self-depreciating humor, and i think i’m finally at a turning point of being okay with who i am and how i react to things and what i think and feel and how i present myself. i’m becoming less worried about how other people might be criticizing my every move. i’m becoming more me, whether that is who i have been all along or something new emerging like a butterfly from chrysalis.

I wish that I knew how to not give bitter, mean, angry people the power to ruin my day. I wish my room were magically clean and my desk organized so I could actually function in my own living space and spend the time reading and doing essay homework instead. I wish I had the time and mental energy to read redheadbouquet’s “introspective life-post” and have a nerdy conversation about dualism and what I learned in my agrarian philosophy class last spring. I wish this 4-days-and-counting migraine headache would go away. I wish someone could just hold me until I fell asleep, lulled by their heartbeat and the scent of their skin.
I wish I knew what I wanted from people and from myself.

My sister is pregnant again.

My brother-in-law came over to tell the family in person and all I could say was, “Oh. Wow.” Everyone else was super excited and congratulatory; I felt like I had been punched in the gut and all I could think was, “She will never go back to school. She will never be a professional dancer.” My mom later told me I looked like I was about to cry.

I couldn’t imagine loving a child more than I love my nephew, and I know I will love this child just as much. So why does it feel like a tragedy? What is wrong with me?

(However, the fact that my sister announced it on Facebook by posting this video with the caption “Coming April 2012!” is kinda awesome.)

Sometimes you are varying shades and hues of a single colour (usually blue).  Sometimes you are like watching a movie (like the time you inserted me into The Sound of Music. That was weird.).  You used to be flying, always flying, but you grew out of it and I miss it.  I often try to fight you for the flight back, but you always win by dropping me from a precipice, jolting me awake with my heart flipping against my sternum like a landed fish.

Usually, though, you are so dark I can hardly see a thing, objects and people only becoming visible at a very short distance; too short to decide whether I want to flee or draw closer.

Lately, you are the people I want to think about the least.

Once, you were wonderfully eerie bassoon music.

Once, you were a girl running through a marsh in the fog. Running from what, I am not sure.

Once, you were pure wanderlust: a sailboat on a river of stars that sprayed over the bow and gilded my arms like glittering scales.

Once, you disappeared for an entire month and left me to fend for myself against the black tide. Please don’t do that again.

Sincerely,

the girl who wants to be taken away every now and again