Sun Bleached Sneakers

Taking it back to the good ol' days. Back when my biggest dilemma was weather or not I got the coolest colored hula-hoop. Back when my biggest heartbreak was parting with my favorite sneakers that were decorated with pointless doodles and countless holes.

I wish I could go back and just lay in the sun surrounded by the sweat smell of fresh cut grass listening to the cars lazily make their way down the street.

Stone to Stone

I am wondering where I am heading. I am desperately trying to lay down my path stone by stone, hopefully leading myself to a desired destination. Some stones have landed far off the path, others have cracked, and even more stay in my arms for fear of loosing them, loosing my chances, and an even deeper fear of my path taking me in unexpected, and risky directions. The weight of retained stones is slowing my pace and dragging me down making each step more difficult and calculated. I am no longer skipping stone to stone as I had in my younger years.

While my stone path has been bumpy it has served me quite well until recently. Stone to stone you can see my journey, my decisions, and my life. But now I am out of safe landings. The once abundant, spongy, green grass has slowly given way to harder, sandier ground. I am finding myself being forced to cast my stones on uneven ground. The weight of my decisions, the weight of my stones, and the weight of my body have brought me to a stand still. I cannot decide where to go from here.

I stand here surrounded by a sea of beige consumed in clouds of dust and sand, desperate to leave but unable to move. My eyes stinging from the wind I shakily extend my arm, heart pounding, I suspend a stone above this desert terrain.

Rambling

Lately in my life I have encountered a person who is insincere and in-compassionate in almost all ways.
I find it very interesting that until recently I had the opposite opinions about this person. After some thought I figured out how this can happen.

There are people who repeat lies about themselves and once they've convinced themselves they present them as truths.
This person consistently states how caring they are and what a good person they are.
However, the actions I experience are quite different from the messages she preaches about herself. She is consistently tearing down all the other people around her. She also consistently speaks about other people and can never have a real conversation about herself.
I took this treatment and consistent talk about others to heart at first. My feelings were hurt and I found myself being in a dismal funk whenever I was around this person, but the I came to a realization.

There are many people who act like this, I am sure there are people like this in almost every one's life. This friend of mine is acting in these way because she has no idea who she is. She has adopted traits that she has been socially conditioned to think are 'good' which she repeats. however she acts in a totally different way because these traits are not truly her. She then drags other people down because she can not handle seeing others comfortable with themselves when she is not. She also has a desperate need to be liked more by everyone she meets, so when confronted with a group of new people she will bash her closer friends to look 'cooler' in front of them.

I am seeing this behavior now for what it is. It is simply a young person who has been unable to mature and truly become comfortable with who they are. This person acts out on anger when ever they encounter a person who has what they yearn for. The once hurtful behavior I now look at with sorrow. While many comments still hurt I can take them with a grain of salt.

I think that when confronted with this kind of person sitting down to discuss the behavior can help but wont always work. I think that with this type of personality it is really best to just disengage from the hurtful comments and give them no attention as if they were a three year old throwing a tantrum. The lack of attention should lessen the behavior as long as the surrounding environment does not encourage it.

Sands of Time

Why do we do what we must, and why must we do what we do?

There are so many rules and regulations on what we do and how we live. I thought moving away meant freedom. I am still held and bound by more strings than ever before.
I just want to learn and live my life. There are so many things I want to do, and places I want to be able to go. I want to learn about astrology, french literature, theater, and psychopaths. Find me a major that can encompass all of that and I would be overjoyed.
I wonder often if the time dedicated to what I'm doing today is time wasted. I am not sure what I want to do but I know what I should do.
Certain choices will bring success in future adventures but I think I'm becoming sick of adventures inside of classrooms and looking at life through a window, or a text book.
I'm sick of reading about things other people have discovered, found, and deduced from their studies and experiences.

Why should I do what I must. but how to I break away. I still do what I do because I must.
What is the point of grades and classes and a future career. what will i do, who will i be, how can i do what i love, what do i love, what would make me happy, how can i do something that makes me happy for the rest of my life, how can i work towards that future if by the time I'm done preparing for it I'm old and my future has already come and past, what if preparation for my life is stopping me from living it, how will i ever know until i look back with regrets, how can i live with no regrets, how can i do what i want without jeopardizing my future, what is my future, whats in jeopardy, how can i make any decisions

Worries & Wanting

Sometimes I worry about my life. I worry about my future. I worry about what I want, or the lack of wanting.

I think about people who know, who are certain and I wonder why I'm not. I worry if i should be. I think about how much time and commitment is involved in so many plans: grad school, internships, tuition. So much effort goes into building a future. But I dont know what I'm building yet.
Its like starting a house without a blue print.
There is a house in San Jose, called the winchester house. It's full of dead end hallways, stair cases to no where, windows over looking bedrooms, and doors that open to walls. Im afraid the future im building is going to be full of doors that open to walls and windows that have less than prime views.

The more I try to plan, and learn, and think about my future the more obscure it seems. I feel like there is a blurry object rushing towards me and I have no clue what to do. I just wish it were simple. That I knew. I wish there was a stone path laid out infront of me that I could happily skip down.

A profession, a hobby, a passion, an idea. anything.

Colorful Daydream

The fog is so thick it looks as though a white blanket has been draped in front of my window. Cutting me off from the rest of the world. Making my room an island that floats freely through the sky nestled on a cloud of fog.

Listening to music and watching the mist drift by my mind goes blank. I just sit and watch the water droplets gather on the glass. The fog is so white and thick it seems like it tangible, like a blank canvas. If only I could take my paints from my drawer and pain this bright white canvas in the sky. Bright yellow, greens and blues would hang in the air. Small drops of pink would drip into other colors. People could look above to see a smattering of colors intertwined with the white mist. Perhaps a drop or two would find their way down to the ground making bright splashes of color on the wet cement. Swirling purple and indigo traveling across the sky. A master piece only for some to see. A painting for only those who stop to turn their heads towards the sky. Only a work of art for those who look at the droplets on the ground and wonder. Only for those who stop to care. And a painting for me; a painting hanging in the air.

Winter Woes

There are times when you will feel pain.
There are times when you'll feel there is nothing to gain.
And there will be times, my child, when all you feel is the rain.

Im standing under a cloud and I can feel every fattened drop of water explode on my skin.
A drop of liquid engorged with resentment, a drop fed by fear, a drop expanded by anxiety, they continue to grow and continue to fall.

I'm left to find the melancholy beauty that lies inside of the storm, the music that lies inside of thunder, and the hope that is illuminated by the lightening.

Just as all things storms pass. Black clouds blow away to be replaced by sun and bird songs.