Mumming the Suns

The longing that came with the music as it swarmed my head, staring out the car windows at steely rocks and trees and green drippingness, and then also the red baked desert and flaming canyon walls and clouds floating above, supported by the horizon in the distance. Dreaming as the dreams around inspired: of impossibilities evidenced by the landscape surrounding, imbibing my brain with unreal expectations that were fulfilled but for a few days...and once back to the unglazed reality with cities and smog and humid sogginess and absent mountains...there the glass shattered, there the realized dreams were strangled, snuffed, shattered.
I stared at them with eyes absent of emotion. I had expected such, but a few minutes and moments had led me to believe that my expectations were perhaps harsh projections...that needn't be.
I thought.

And I think of one that drifted back to me, hovering like a hazy cloud of smoke over me, looking down, telling me of my soft skin and how I coudn't be a bad teacher, gazing me with eyes of turquoise, something wise as the rocks floating behind them.

Instead of finding enamorment with the eyes, I pine for one who only flirts about, flittingly calling my name among the tall trees, and then disappearing. I still hear his echoing distant voice calling my name. And then. Just laughter at my folly, to believe the impish glint in his eye. I'd mistaken the mischevious for admiration of a character.
My heart burns with longing. What for? Surely not these boys which burn and disappoint.

A heart and its love intrigues, and as it confounds, I am still filled with hope and longing for its future.

Boys:LesbianHair

Why did I cut my hair? To exacerbate boy problems?? Holy Christ. The exact words were "that's so gay." In relation to my hair. It really hurt my feelings. Maybe I'm taking it too seriously. And, I shouldn't care. I suppose I feel it's a mischaracterization/misunderstanding of my character.

Well, what are you gonna do? It's gone. It will grow. And...it doesn't really matter.
But these are the things I occupy my thoughts with. And him and how he doesn't like me. Why am I so crushed about that? Cause everyone else seems to get it, and he doesn't?

I want to just love life and skip and be content to look at the sun. I should think about how that other guy just thanked me for being so chill and great. And the other one told me I had soft skin.

I lament about the other, still. I suppose sleep wouldn't hurt my state of mind.

Lovers & Denial

I'm trying to fill my thoughts with things other than what this music incites: Lovers Dark Light.

Sometimes, try as I might, I cannot escape my romance.

I like that part of me, but it doesn't always make daily brain activity and physical function the easiest. When you're playing out in your mind how this newnewcrush will fall for you and ask you to go surfing with the sharks.

An old lover introduced me to these new musicians. The only lover I sometimes think I've ever had.

Well, it's all love in the end.

BasalBlock

I feel again like leaving.
Not to escape life, but to just fuck it all.
I'm fed up with America, with art and the lack of importance of it, with people around here, with money, with the need for money.
I feel I'm in fifth grade again, that time when I thought I'd been elected to run for class president, I was accepted! Then the teacher informs me with a sneer (as I perceived it then) that I certainly was not, just before I was to give my speech. So naturally, I burst into tears, as much as I didn't want to, poor embarrassed acne-riddled unpopular and emotionally rickety girl that I was.
This Matt guy is somewhat of a prick, I think. This exclusive society is built up here, and I have one in, not that I really care about it; it was encouraging. and he seems jealous of it, so he shoves it right back into my face until I don't care and think I never did and all it does is make me a brittle cold rigid icicle of resentment and drive. F man. I'm taking it too personally, sure.
I don't care about the society and connections; I care about love and reality and detachment from all they tell us is important. Including popularity. If people see my shit and feel better about life or themselves, then I guess it has some point. That's what will keep it going in the end, even if the little jump starts are green jealousy or that cold rigid icicle of resentment which eventually fade off into ridiculousness.

::grateful kids who miss me before I'm gone; fall afternoons with hazy chilled sunlight; smiles on tired faces; dark circles under my eyes telling me I'm working hard and doing well; the assurance that not fitting in is well and good; finding others who have trouble with society; friends across the world; beer; feta cheese and olive oil; madmen; warm puppies; sarcasm::

Wild Keys

Ahh, the Black Keys just sound soso good in my ears sometimes.
Thanks, headphones.

The weight of a medium creek stone rests on my chest tonight. It seems I have failed again to understand someone's attempts at friendship. Maybe, I wonder, that I wanted more, so I took the platonic attempts as more. I feel like I have failed again. Well. Could be on the other's part too. Oh humans. Jeezus.

I have observed my thoughts and feelings on relationships recently. Upon evaluation, it's safe to say I'm interested in a relationship with someone. I suppose I interpret this as being with one of the opposite sex, and for it to be intimate in nature. Intimate as in a close exchange of ideas, thoughts, and ways of living.

After watching Into the Wild last night, though, I'm thinking about the comment of Chris's where he says "People look for happiness in relationships. They don't have to. What we need for happiness is already all around us." This is paraphasing, but the main idea remains: whatever you translate as happiness for yourself can be found at the ready for you.  I interpret this for myself as distributing my urge to love to those around me, and to do so very well. Loving makes me happy. I've been unfulfilled because I thought I couldn't be happy without another of the opposite sex to shower my love upon. Now I see I have all the tools to make me happy: I have love; I have people to love; I have people who will appreciate my love.

Aww, snap!

I still don't understand boys or relationships or people.
But I get love and happiness and myself a little bit more.