| passing through only to drift again.. like a momentary fix.
permanency is a face i'd like to know. |
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| that pinnacle instance of anticipation that exists for a split second before the downfall.
the decisive moment that transitions us into a new feeling. give me that space in between.
give me the narrative without yet telling me the story. show me the buildup before the blow.
this is what makes life interesting. create a snapshot in your mind for every one of these moments..
capture it and ride that brief feeling of anxiety, and your steps will be skips, your internal beats: syncopated.
give me that sound, of turning nothing into something, and you'll see-
there's just too much with which to be amazed.
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| cross over the small bridge with the waxed up ledge, take a right onto greenfield circle and another immediate right onto pineridge manor. to your left, a corner house with an unkempt lawn.. towering trees that hide the memories of past families in shadows scattered across an oil-stained driveway.
it was such a conscious part of my life: a time when push really came to shove for my family. yet, looking back, i realize i really wasn't there like i should have been.
when i was most needed, i became absent.. excluding myself from feelings, dismissing anything remotely genuine. all the things that were honest and real to me, i purposely broke.. because i couldn't handle it. i didn't know how. i was too weak to be my own person and too scared to feel more vulnerable than i already was. who was i to take on the kind of responsibility that was expected of me? really though: who was i?
somewhere in my apathy.. i stopped talking to my parents, allowed school grades to suffer, ultimately quit the basketball team, didn't care enough to protect my little brother the way a big sister should and backed down to racial injustices. instead, i lost myself to superficial ties and homogenized voices. even lost a few 'true' friends along the way- real people who weren't afraid to knock on my door- people who cared enough to call and make plans to do nothing with me. i drifted anyway.. from anyone and anything that mattered. .. what an idiot, heh.
i know i was just a kid then.. but i can't help but feel guilty sometimes. i miss those old friends who actually made an effort and honored individuality. i'm guilty for disconnecting with my parents when they needed me and for making their job harder. it took a lot (and a while) for me to come around.. it would've been nice if it'd come sooner. .. but what can you do? it all happens for a reason, right? ..... i guess i just didn't expect to feel the way i did when i saw the old house again, the old high school, the old familiar places and paths and yards. bittersweet nostalgia.. with a lot less sweet, i'd say. it made me feel sad coming back.
.. i'm a much better person now though.. however sorry for my past actions, it was what it took for me to reconnect with the world. it took all of that to learn how to appreciate the little things and never take anything for granted. i feel now. .. and i react. i am who i am, my own person, because of it. so: a million thanks to my parents for putting up with me, my brothers for understanding my stupid-stupid-girl phase, those old friends for sharing their positive light and all the people in my life now.. just because. :)
listen: regina spektor / samson
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| it can get so fkin' (please excuse my language) hard to execute creativity sometimes.. i always end up this way by the end of the quarter. start off strong with so many ideas, excited about what i can turn out.. then the ball drops and midway through whatever it is i'm working on, i decide i don't like it. what is wrong with me.
i think my concepts are too complex for the alloted time given the incredible workload.. no really: maybe even too complex for my actual skill.
so tired of trying so hard only to end up unsatisfied. wtf. burning o u t .. . .
edit: yeah. back to the fundamentals. i need to level up on drawing and painting. i'll keep a sketchbook handy more often. .. and try to take some classes in painting (preferably oils). i realize i tend to think and visualize in the sense of an animator/illustrator (probably because of xer's influences). and i'd like to be able to achieve this style of work the old-fashioned way.. without the interruption of misinterpreting technology. because it truly sucks to see it in my head.. but not be able to translate it on paper. then end.
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