CLICK HERE FOR BLOGGER TEMPLATES AND MYSPACE LAYOUTS »

6.24.2009

Balance.


what exactly is it? is it a necessity? Do we only seek it when we're lacking? I feel as though, while growing up, being 19, I feel the need to balance EVERYTHING all at once. But how is that possible? How do we KNOW what to balance? And if we do, then how do we know when to balance it? Love, drive, emotion... the people who do not have this problem never have to suffer. However, being an artist, I need to feel at ALL times. I train myself- we, as artists, train ourselves- to somehow be able to find a medium between our passions and our drive- and the real world that is a constant flowing motion all around us. This balance comes in time.

But do I have the patience? 

5.19.2009

just realized that come friday I'll have been completely sober for two weeks (pretty much by accident)- no alcohol, weed, caffeine, cigs. You can thank antibiotics but still. It's interesting to see how these things affect you while you're on them, and when you're not. Behavior, etc.


Boston had a very strange cold May week. I spent most of it in bed but now I am fully recovered. Alex gets back in three days. I'm really excited. I also wrote a song and I'm gonna start practicing with the band once the semester starts again, which is in a week. Gotta look for a new bassist. Probably won't be a problem. Joey comes friday too. So excited. 

Working on eating healthily. The antibiotics make me have no appetite whatsoever, which has its pros and cons. I wanna see a movie. I wanna write a short story. I wanna spend time with my boyfriend when he gets back from tour. Longest two weeks ever.

xx
Hills

4.02.2009

I believe that we pick the memories from our childhood in which our subconscious feels are most useful in order for survival. I remember being very small- maybe at the age of six or seven- and turning to my mother at dinnertime, only to ask, “What does it feel like to be a grown-up?” In reply, she looked up from her Shepard’s pie and picked up her wine glass, and before bringing it to her lips replied, “It’s very hard. Very, very hard.”

At the age of six or seven the words “difficult” or “hard” only mean not being able to tie your shoe, or going to school and getting picked on. But as you grow older, the word obtains a more subjective meaning, in which it takes on a larger part of life, or a general goal- it is the difficultness in which your self-esteem seems to battle with every day. This is called life.

 

The most bewildering and often frustrating thing in life is sometimes going to bed and waking up the next morning only to feel completely lost and afraid. It’s not the lost and afraidedness that’s scary, it’s the fact that you don’t know why you feel like this. What is this unending void that we call time in which we wake up, every day, and face the world? The power it holds is undeterminable. Or is it the inability to control this? I know that if I cannot control how I feel when I wake up, then I will not be able to control how I feel the rest of the day. But is it really about control? 

more soon. 

3.27.2009

I would like most things to make sense, but they never do most of the time.


This week has gone by way too slow and I guess I need the weekend, but not really. I haven't even tried writing lately, which is weird. Spring is kind of coming, but taking too long.

I may be

stuck.

But when that happens, you just have to stay there. You can't force yourself out of a "stuck". You have to stay stuck until the wedged piece naturally falls out and you are ready to go. Or something.

I don't feel like being too literal right now. I don't really feel like being too anything. That's good. 

More soon. 

<3hills

3.16.2009

I'm going to explode.

3.09.2009

I am so fortunate. 

3.05.2009

In my dream I fell from the top of this 6 story building, but inside the building, which was shaped like a hexagon. I went into a coma, and as I was in this coma I saw my friends and people in my life go on and move on- things changed and people changed. 


Then I woke up. I was in Boston but the city looked darker, almost like a Gotham sort of thing. I was wearing everything I remember wearing when I died. In the room when I woke up was a friend (I won't say who) and he led me out of the hospital into his dorm room. When his roommate found out he flipped because apparently I wasn't supposed to leave and everyone knew I was supposed to be kept under strict supervision at all times. 

I had my phone and needed to call everyone to tell them I'd woken up. But when I tried, most people's numbers had changed and I couldn't reach them. When I did reach some people, they weren't that excited, or they were but they sounded different, older, more run down. 

This feeling of dying- the fact that I was out of life for a year and a half, was so strange. It felt like I was disconnected from society and all my friends for so long, and I didn't know how to react to that. I asked someone if things changed drastically after I died, and they said not really- some people handled it pretty badly, and others were ok and moved on. There were all these posts on my facebook wall of everyone ever, recording videos, writing messages, saying they missed me and everything.

And it was almost as if I liked the fact that I missed so much. That I could be disconnected for so long and come back and feel as though I was alone, but in independence. My friends needed me, and I was in their life at one point, and then I fell 5 stories and then I wasn't. 

Weirdness.