Inspired.

dear evil people

"So now we see how it is
This fist begets the spear
Weapons of war
Symptoms of madness
Don't let your eyes refuse to see
Don't let your ears refuse to hear
Or you ain't never going to shake this sense of sadness."

Inspired.

Homesick

There's this paragraph from Breaking Dawn that goes a little something like this,

"The march was too slow as I struggled to pace my steps to its rhythm. Mercifully, the aisle was very short. And then, at last, at last, I was there. Edward held out his hand. Charlie took my hand and, in a symbol as old as the world, placed it in Edward's. I touched the cool miracle of his skin, and I was home."

Today, in the car with my mom, it dawned on me (haha, no pun intended..well, actually...) that the reason I am excited about going back to school, overwhelmingly so, is because of a four-leafed friendship that has forever changed my life. My three friends and I couldn't be more different, couldn't. be. more. different. but there is just something about finishing the circle of interlaced fingers when we bow our heads to pray that feels like coming home. I spent so much time in the beginning trying to mask the fact that I was raised with emotional people, have an interesting family situation (half and half doesn't nearly do it justice), until I lost it one day, and a volcano of anger meets vulnerability tumbled out and colored the air a rosy tinged purple....I'll never forget the look on their faces...or the lightening speed with which they forgave me. I can't wait for moments when I'm needed to finish the circle, and I know, in my moments of need, they'll be there, too. Girls..if you're reading this...I LOVE YOU! :)

A post on finishing a series

So, I finished the third book in The Hunger Games series, the other day, and..I gotta say..it sucks to finish a series. I think I've figured it out...when you get to know a character beyond one book, you start critiquing them because you feel like you know them. When they act like a wimp unnecessarily, you're shouting in your mind, "man up!! come on now...find your inner champ! I know you can..." When the heroine ends up with a guy...kinda by default..because the other one moved away, you find yourself genuinely concerned..thinking thoughts like, "Hmm..if Gale would've stayed, would Katniss' life look different? Probably not..but then again...MAYBE. IT. WOULD. HAVE. She should have gone to visit him JUST TO SEE what he was up to." Certain things are difficult to just leave in the epilogue...such as..NOT KNOWING THE NAMES OF HER CHILDREN....I somewhat understand it..trying to appear all suave by addressing them as "the dancing girl" and "the boy with the blond curls" but...seriously...when readers have grown to respect and love the driving force of a story..that's cruel and unfashionably rude. Obviously, I'm having withdrawals...

Not even gonna sigh

I don’t feel so separated from the fall
When I’m falling.

Falling into rage, a sort of humanly billowing of heat that fills
Where the heart should be.
Causes my head to lift up, oddly, as if on hinges
Then strike down with words, more venomous than defensive.

If this were a sport, I’d be losing.

If my life is short...if I die tomorrow
What is the sense of allowing rage to ebb?
...Only to emerge from reserve
Later, and
continue consuming any rationality that once kept me
In rhythm.

My walk is more like a crawl,
My fingers on a steep, angry edge.

The other day, I watched a line of ants crawl by, in perfect formation they swirled,
Not really going anywhere.
I could have
Crushed them with my foot,
Drowned them with a smallish glass of water,
Burnt them
With one orange flame.

They were all brown;
They all looked the same.

But, I didn’t.

I watched them swirl in senseless patterns.
I smiled at how little ground they covered.

If one of them had called out for me,
Asked me for help,
Pleaded with me in a language I created...
“I want to go further than just here..lift me..I’ll only ever walk in circles.”

I don’t feel so separated from the fall
When I’m falling.

Falling into apathy, a sort of ‘giving up’ that
Happens when our minds have had too much.
Maybe not now, when I have time to read all the opinions.

When I’m older, there will still be unsolved questions,
But there will also be children, who call me “Mommy”,
And worry about their own little worlds.

Like the ant world, mine confuses me.

I know I have guidance.
I know I have freedom.

Knowing the balance doesn’t excite me.

One day, I’ll know how it was and why.
But on that day
Of perfect change
I won’t even lend a sigh.