i'm a fucking catch. maybe. maybe not. maybe i'm a hands full basket case. but, i think i'm a fucking catch. i think, now... it's time i be proud of me rather than waiting for everyone else to fucking care to walk beside me. i'm too old to just be figuring this out... but hey, never thought i'd live this long anyway. everyday i'm thankful i can walk, talk and have food in my stomach and hair on my head. if someone else doesn't see the glow in me... in the words of my mom "fuck 'em." it's time i saw it. it's more important for me to see it anyway. i'm sick of all this wasted fear in me. i'm sick of waiting for something to happen to me.

i'm fucking sick of all my fucking excuses.

how many times can i say "fucking" in one post?

maybe someday, when i believe, others will believe it too. i'm kind, caring, considerate, intelligent, funny, and just. believe it, [insert my name here], and they will too.

walls aren't worth it

foolishly and pointlessly, i built walls around my heart. i thought they were made tough of steel and tall as mountains. i thought its heights were unscaled. i thought they would keep me safe. with my false sense of security i ventured out, unaware of my frailty. my stupid walls were actually, and thankfully, made of cheap plywood you'd by at the dollar store... particle board or composite wood is a more fitting description and probably stronger than my makeshift construction. turns out... what i thought would keep me safe crippled me... what i thought would cripple me... saved me.

it doesn't matter the outcome. it's worth it. i deserve such extreme emotion whether it leaves me blissful or devastated. i never want to live my life trapped inside invisible barriers. the longer i try to keep people out... the harder it becomes to let them in. i'm certain someone has said that before. i'm just glad i was saved before i was lost. i'll always keep a cautious heart... but it will be open and always loving.

walls aren't worth it.

Kindly Unspoken- Kate Voegele

As high as the moon
So high were my spirits
When you sang out my name

And coming from you
It was enough just to hear it
Oh, it rang like the bells did today

But even the sturdiest ground
Can shift and can tremble and let us fall down

Kindly unspoken
You show your emotion
The silence speaks louder than words
It’s lucky I’m clever
If I didn’t know better
I’d believe only that which I’d heard

In the days of my folly
I followed your lead
I did what Simon said to do

But I won’t let melancholy
Play me for a fool
Oh, no I’m on my way somewhere new

And as far as your lack of something to say
Well, tell me goodbye there was no better way

Kindly unspoken
You show your emotion
The silence speaks louder than words
It’s lucky I’m clever
If I didn’t know better
I’d believe only that which I’d heard

Well don’t keep me up till the dawn
With those words that’ll keep leading me on
Well I know much better than to wait for an answer from you

Kindly unspoken
You show your emotion
And silence speaks louder than words
It's lucky I’m clever
If I didn’t know better
I’d believe only that which I’d heard

honest irrationality

just as a rose is a rose... i am girl. i am a girl and as such have irrational emotions at times. a girl irrationally gives her heart away. think about it... it's not logical or sane to give away the thing that literally beats your life. and i am definitely not the settling kind of girl. not anymore. i know what it's like to love... i know what it's like to not love. i prefer the former. even if it's alone. even if my romantic delusions leave me alone and wanting... i prefer the former. it's funny how you cannot convince the unloving of the wonderment of love. it's not that they have never loved either... just when you don't feel it... you don't feel it. it's impossible to make someone understand your feelings. they can only be sympathetic. but, they will never feel them. never. that's not... negative. it's just honest. this girl has to be more honest with herself. she needs to know that love is not 50/50... it's 100/100 or it's not at all. i often neglect my own emotions. i internalize a lot. i zip my lips far too much. i'm trying to get better.

the tears that drip down my cheek now are not sadness... but burning realization of my frail humanity.

A flower doesn't turn toward the sun because it needs to, but because it wants to, and so the process is effortless and joyful.

cupid has poison tipped arrows.

too sad to love

my lover leaves his hurt on a shelf.
its half life longer than eternity.
he's too sad to love.

his vague saddness contorts reality,
and cluttered tears flow.
he's too scared to love.

the drip from his chin
burns my forehead.
he's too strong to hurt.

his expressions of self-realization,
mumble through often and honest sobs.
my daze of our relation,
quietly tumults in heavy sighs.

my love is on an idle shelf.
it's too desperate to hide.
it's too irrational not to cry.
it's too strong to ignore.
it can't sit still.

but, he's too sad to love.
he's too scared for patience.
his lips are too sealed.
his emotion is too controlled.

and
my heart is on my sleeve ripping
one beat at a time.

happy = i smile more than i frown

there is so much up and down... the cliche that life is like a roller coaster is far too true to deny. i'd like to come up with my own witty and profound quote on life being like a box of chocolates or whatever... but there are too many and i don't deem myself to be one of the greats. i'll settle for the bits already in circulation...

anyway... it really is... life, both unexpected and expected. i'm predictable but unstable sometimes. but, it seems, these are things about me i must accept. life will never be completely figured out... and i think i can be okay with it. i can learn to breathe more deeply and less hastily. i'm learning to slow myself.

i'm happy... but, being happy doesn't always mean things are perfect or as good as it gets. it just means i smile more than i frown.

"Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings." Anais Nin