thoughts

I am working on some essay writing today and just needed to get some thoughts out that have been sitting around on scraps of paper waiting to be written but not having a place to "live" I was inspired by a piece called "conversations with a tree"...very awesome.

Here goes...

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I told the stories to anyone who would listen. I would cry and expand the details, work myself into a frenzy, hang up, walk away and then dial again. I was a traitor to myself and to the sanctity of my story.

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The first day I really felt my heart it hurt a little.

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Do you ever feel like you know don't know someone even when you're standing right next to them, doing something you've always done. You have been breathing them in for years, sharing secrets in whispers and one day there is just...nothing.

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Sometimes in my dreams I am really upset, yelling or screaming at someone else. It's all that rage piled up inside.

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The humiliation burned a venom deep into the back of my throat; I can still taste it today.

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I can be the type of quiet that makes people perk up when I actually do open my mouth to say something.

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I never stopped playing pretend.

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We met two guys. Striped shirt...or was it Hawaiian shirt...guy was wild and into her. Polished preppy seemed into me. Regrets.

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She painted giant hands and faces that looked like rocks jutting out of the Australian desert.

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Did it always seem so hopeless? Did we lose something somewhere along the way?

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I slept through three months of my life.

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I think, for him, the reality was nothing like the dream.

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smelling like vanilla was on the list

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I believe it was very well assumed that I would always draw. I would have a cute hobby. I would win third place prizes in poster contests and my kindergarten bookmark design would get me a gift certificate for a free pizza dinner.

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Grow up.

I'm trying.

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