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. 

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

I'm going to explode.

I am so fortunate. 

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. 

i will get this right i will get this right

Can you please stop showing up in my dreams? 

Your kisses were poison in daydream, in sleep 

they are candy and

don't

hurt.

don'tlookbackdon'tlookbackdon'tlookback