We Only Have What We Remember

                    
                     I keep finding myself wishing for change, but I'm not sure how to bring about said change. I have been feeling more dissatisfaction as each day passes. I know it's coming to the point where something's gotta give. I know that to make my life better, I need to put in the required work. The problem I have is deciding which direction to apply my efforts is best.

                     I've been doing a lot of reflection lately. Which should be a given, I'm a reflective person by nature. I need to stop searching for validation from others. Even though I have become more of a loner than I ever was, I still seek approval from everyone I meet. Which makes me a bit of a conundrum, as I always tell myself that I don't care about what others think of me. The truth is, I do. We all do. We're all just looking for love. But the fact of the matter is that I need to learn to love myself first. I can't expect anyone to love me if I find no value in myself. Sure, my family and friends have cared for me from afar despite my broken pieces. I keep everyone at arm's length for fear of infecting them with my insecurity. I fear coming across as weak. I've been fortunate to have a couple of people listen to my story and support me despite my weaknesses. And for that, I thank them.
                     I realize that there is still emotional work that I need to do. I still haven't fully healed. I had been harsh with myself, condemning myself for not being resilient enough to be okay after a year and a half. I took the time to sit and meditate on my emotions. I spent time being kind to myself and I learned that my heart and mind will take the time it needs to heal. That healing cannot be rushed. I must be patient and nurturing.
                     I have been trying hard to apply this to my work as well. The past couple of months have been stressful. To the point where I have to run for a restroom break to have a minor breakdown at least once a week. This is something I haven't made known, so no one's the wiser. I'm afraid to make my frustrations known, especially at time that we're so short-staffed. I'm afraid of being labeled as 'volatile' or 'incompetent.' Again, my fears of the judgments of others come into play. I feel myself beginning to become resentful.
                    I took a small break from my art again. I wish that I had the energy to stay consistent with it. I have been trying to learn a new open-sourced animation program. It is the same program that studio Ghibli, one of my great inspirations, uses for their films. The only problem is is that it is not user-friendly. It was originally an Italian program that was translated into Japanese. It is difficult to find a competent English manual for it. There are a few tutorials scattered across the internet, but even those are scarce. I feel that they don't provide the information I need. This will just be something I'll have to keep working with and try to figure out on my own.

Until next time.

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Everything falls apart 

the exact same time it all comes together perfectly for the next step.
But my fear is this prison.
That I keep locked below the main deck.
I keep a key under my pillow, it's quiet and it's hidden.
And my hopes are weapons
That I'm still learning how to use right.
But they're heavy and I'm awkward and I'm always running out of fight.

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And We'll Make Many Storms

                     It's been almost a month since my last post. So much for making this a daily thing! Well, not much has changed in my life, I've primarily been working my tail off and enjoying the days off I get not being around people. Though I can't imagine this will last for much longer, as nature abhors a vacuum. So we'll see what mayhem gets stirred up in the days ahead, shall we?
                    I've spent the time away trying to readjust my mindset. I feel like I require more time alone for introspection in order to do this. It's difficult to talk about, though. Society for the most part doesn't understand the need for alone time. And perhaps spending so much time reflecting does make me boring to an extent in conversation because I don't have much to contribute. I'm okay with this for the most part, but I often times find myself in uncomfortable scenarios because most are unsettled by quiet discussion partners.
                    I wish that life gave more opportunities for self-reflection, or that society as a whole could better understand the need for quiet in a world that never stops talking.

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                   I feel this will be another post that will jump topics at random. It's been difficult to keep my mind set on any one thing recently. For example, I'll start watching a show, get about ten minutes in to hit pause and get up and wander around my apartment. I'll pick up a book to read, go over a couple of paragraphs, and set it down to stare at my phone for an hour. I haven't been able to fully finish an artistic piece in over a month. I begin to wonder what is causing this restless behavior and what need to be done to make it stop. More than likely it just needs to run its course. I've been feeling a conglomeration of restlessness, lethargy, and ennui. Perhaps someone was right in telling me that I should seek out professional help.

                I just think that the problems that we fight under the surface require more than babbling at someone with no emotional investment and then choking down a pill to attempt to balance one's chemicals.

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                  It's July, so Camp NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) is underway. I'm about 12k words into my 50k goal. I'm writing about one of my most beloved topics: pirates. I've been jumping around the scenes, hoping to be able to string them all together cohesively. One thing I've learned while writing, is that I don't know a damn thing about sailing. I know plenty of nautical terms and their definitions, enough to feign knowledge to those who wouldn't know any better.
                 I considered taking a sailing class. You know, in the name of research. Yes, operating a tiny schooner would be a pale comparison that the manpower and knowledge it would require to run a sloop or even a galleon, but going through the motions at least on a small scale I hope would be enough to give me a decent idea. And there's also the ability to harass the teacher. 

                But then I learned that for two classes it could cost me $650. Which is an excellent deal, were it in my budget. Yet another thing to add to my "one day..." list. (Along with going to the Maldives and experiencing Mardis Gras & Burning Man) Until then, I'll see what videos I canfind and hope that rewatching The Pirates movies and Black Sails will give me enough insight...

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Lightning and Lightning bugs

                     It's been a couple of days since my last post. I allowed my love for infatuation to get the better of me. But as I always tend to do, I chose someone who wasn't right for me. Or at the least wasn't right for me right now. I don't know. "INFPs share a sincere belief in the idea of relationships – that two people can come together and make each other better and happier than they were alone, and they will take great efforts to show support and affection in order to make this ideal a reality." I absolutely crave intimacy. And not even in a sexual way. So with that being said, anyone who shows me kindness or affection tends to earn somewhat of a pedestaled position in my attention. This confusion between compassion and passion always leads to me getting hurt.
                     I'm not really sure if this post will even make much sense. Or if the string of thoughts will tie in together rationally. But this post is me trying to work out how I'm feeling. I'm very bad at naming what I feel. I just feel it. And I feel it fully. Maybe that's why I can't put words to it, because all of my energy goes into physically feeling my emotions. So I'm just going to keep spewing out words and hope to make sense of them later on.
                     I knew going in that it would be a bad idea to get emotionally involved and attached. He had a pretty large plate of personal issues to handle and I, as oft as I inadvertently tend to do, only complicated things and made things unbearably awkward. Which is terrible, because we got on very well and had a plethora of compatibilities. I had just had this hope that it would work out like some fictional romance. But that's not the way that the world works.
                     When we finally had "the conversation," I wanted desperately to fight it. But I knew it was futile. But the very fact that my heart wanted it so badly should have been the major red flag in the first place. I desperately hoped for hope for the future, but I know that there are no guarantees in life. No amount of clinging can change that. The things we cling to are the very things that we somehow psychically push away from us. There are, after the fact, things that I would have liked to say then but I just couldn't. When faced with rejection I shut down. Walls and defenses go up and I'm absolutely impenetrable. My mind was blank, I grabbed at air when I was trying to catch words. Meanwhile, my heart was screaming. And the fact that I was feeling all of this has me feeling incredibly stupid, as it was such a sudden thing. It was an initial whirlwind rush of emotions, I just forgot to be there to catch myself when I fell.
                    My challenge now is to acknowledge and work through my feelings for him. I have to learn how to be friends with someone that I have come to care for so deeply in such a short amount of time.    
                    As I left, I was met with lightning and lightning bugs and I felt as if it had all been a dream, and now I was waking up. I slowed as I came upon the liquor store that's only a minute from my apartment. I glanced at it, temptation beckoning for me. It was calling me to drown myself and delve back into a numbed dream. Then I looked forward and kept driving.

Until next time.

A Break From Your Regularly Scheduled Programming

The One in Which I Feel Uncomfortable

             It's me again. So since my long-term relationship ended a little over a year and a half ago, I have attempted to date a couple of times since with no success. It wasn't until a couple of months ago that I decided to just put down the notion of a relationship for good. With every person I date, my hopes sink further. No, it's not my hope that's sinking, rather my capacity for trying.
                I've come to terms with the fact that I'm better off alone for the time being. I had spent too much of my time worrying about pleasing an abusive partner that now my standards for letting anyone close is extremely high. The moment someone begins to show entitlement to me and my time, I cut 'em loose. I no longer have the energy for forced interactions.
                I just can't afford to waste any more time with anyone who doesn't respect my need for space to begin with. I guess I could say that I was taught an independence I never knew existed within me. I was talking with my father not too long ago and he mentioned I'd always been "headstrong," though I never saw myself that way.

                Most recently, I spoke with someone for about a month online (cue the rightful judgments). When I met them in person, I realized there was no spark. No connection. Still I followed through with the date out of guilt. Lesson learned, big no-no. Waste of everyone's time. It was a little disconcerting that I communicated that I felt like it wouldn't work out and then stopped contact, then two months later I got a message saying that "We need to talk." I'm not sure in what context, and I'm not sure I want to know. 

                I'm sure there was more I wanted to add to this, but my thoughts are a little scattered. I'll start a train of thought and derail onto another and then completely lose where I was going with the first. Hopefully soon my posts will be of more substance and will be easier to read.

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"My solitude doesn't depend on the presence or absence of people; on the contrary, I hate who steals my solitude without, in exchange, offering me true company." 

-- Friedrich Nietzsche

There's the Exact Same Balance of Joy on the Other Side of That Coin

                     It is at this point in time that I realize that I've been limiting myself. My inner dialogue, the story I've been repeating to myself, is the one thing that's been holding me back. For too long I spent so much time up in my head, going over how miserable things are and how I for the most part have deserved every bit of it. I fabricated this account of tribulation and it took a complete stranger to knock some sense into me. I was a regular on an anonymous forum that was made for venting. It was based off of PostSecret, if I'm not mistaken. One day I was blubbering about how oh-so-hard my life was. Not too long after another member posted, making it absolutely clear that they were annoyed with "people like me." They added their own personal story of someone they knew that was diagnosed with cancer.
                     At first I found myself bulling up, my fingers itching to argue back against this attack on a forum that is meant for spilling your worries (no matter how insignificant they may be to everyone else). How dare they use a disease to trump my trouble? Also add in that I have a strong dislike for that thing people tend to do. You know that thing. We all do it, albeit at times unintentionally. "Oh, it could be worse." or "At least you're not [insert worse scenario here]." We all have problems, but I strongly dislike downplaying anyone's dilemmas. Because no matter how trivial it may seem to you, the worst part in someone's life is precisely that. The worst part of their life.
                     So here I am, feeling the urge to return the verbal lashing when it dawned on me. Maybe I'm oh-so unhappy because I keep the pain fresh in my mind by constantly repeating this story. Not only that, but I let the negatives paint a dark wash over the events as a recollect them. My problems really weren't so severe. I've been in worse situations, and what I am dealing with now has simple fixes. So inadvertently this stranger on the internet helped me realize and reclaim my power to change my story. I am forever thankful that they put the thought in my mind to look at my story from another perspective, and now I am able to begin telling a new story. The old one has served its purpose, now it is time to let it go and replace it with the new, empowering version.
                     Needless to say, I have cut back on frequenting that corner of the internet. Maybe one day soon I'll return to paint a more vibrant picture.

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Life is But a Dream

               I've always been fascinated with dreams. To be honest I don't know of many people who aren't. Lately I had acquired a book on the topic of lucid dreaming. For those who don't already know, a lucid dream is what occurs when one realizes they're dreaming in the midst of a dream. The achievement of lucidity oftentimes introduces the ability to control one's dream. As a past-time I've taken up playing around with my dreams. I try not to control them every night, because I think part of the fun in dreaming is going along with where your subconscious wants to take you.
              One thing that I've noticed is that since I've taken up this strange hobby of mine, my dreams have become more varied than they once were. My dreams used to take place in one of two places: the beach house on Emerald Isle, or my childhood home in Willow Spring. And in both cases I was always leaving. If it was an EI dream, I'd be walking down to the road we lived on down to the ocean access. In Willow Spring, I'd be doing everything I can to get away from home. Usually trying to run towards the road, but being slowed by some unseen force. I still do get these common dreamscapes, but the nature of them are much different. For example, I dreamed of my childhood home again last night. But instead of running away, I was just hanging out. I even grabbed a beer from the fridge and a lawn chair to sit on the front porch.
               I've also noticed that I remember a larger portion of my dreams since I've put more attention to them. There hasn't been a night over that past month that I haven't remembered details of at least one vivid dream. Last night I went to Africa after I visited my childhood home. I met with a witch doctor and asked him for the ability to speak any language so that I can understand everyone in conversation.
             "And what do you think you are speaking now?" he asked me in a deep voice tinged with a french accent.
             "English... of course." I said starting to question myself.
             "Try again." he laughed, "Try listening to yourself with your English ears."
              I started speaking again and I noticed I was speaking another language!
              This is obviously not something I could do in waking life, but it's fun to see how your subconscious surprises you with fun scenarios. This one in particular was a very satisfying dream, as I'm fascinated with language.
               Do you dream? Have you ever taken control in a dream? Do you have recurring themes/scenes? What do they mean to you?

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“Once upon a time, I dreamt I was a butterfly, fluttering hither and thither, to all intents and purposes a butterfly. I was conscious only of my happiness as a butterfly, unaware that I was myself. Soon I awaked, and there I was, veritably myself again. Now I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly, dreaming I am a man.”

― Zhuangzi

The One in Which We Talk of Patience

                     And the fight continues to be a better person than I was yesterday. I have been clinging for dear life the past few days to any shred of kindness I have left in me. This is day eight out of nine straight at work. I let a particularly stressful weekend and an even more stressful Monday get the better of me. Where I didn't act out towards anyone, I still feel ashamed for not being as friendly as I ought to be.
                    "What’s the alternative to focusing on outcomes and neglecting others? Patience. Patience expresses love by treating every individual as priceless, not just an aid or obstacle to some goal."
                     That's precisely what I was doing; I was seeing my customers as an obstacle between me and 3 p.m. At one time, my patience was my most apparent trait. My past job I was head hostess at a restaurant at Emerald Isle, NC. No matter how often a customer changed their mind when it came to their seating arrangements, I kept a genuine smile on my face. At times I would have other guests come up to me afterwards and comment on how patient I was. In recent months I've let that sweetness ebb. Which is bad. 98% of my job requires patience. I have so much to gain if I were to reign it back in. Apart from being more pleasant to be around, being patient and mindful actually makes the present moment more enjoyable. I'm not trying to rush through the day and ultimately through time out of my life.
                    I also not only need to be more patient with others, but also with myself. I have this tendency to mentally beat myself up over a failed interaction. After someone walks away I think to myself, "What the hell is wrong with you?! Why did you huff/rush/not be attentive to this person's needs? Being alone on your shift is no excuse to lose your head." Because once I lose my head, I lose control. I need to learn patience with myself so that I can learn from these mistakes instead of repeating them. I also need to remind myself that making mistakes is not the equivalent of worthlessness. This is part one of my quest. I am to be more patient with myself and with others.

Until next time.

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I always wanted to be something better

I always wanted to shine
and now I know I can't deny my nature
because I have something to hide

My Escape

                      It feels absolutely amazing outside today! I enjoyed sitting out on the balcony as I started on a drawing of this beauty:

I apologize for the crap image quality. Using my pc's webcam until my new phone arrives.

                        I'm a little on the exhausted side. It was a pretty taxing day for my nerves. I am so very much looking forward to Wednesday, even though it really won't be too much of a day of rest... There's business with my car that needs to be tended to. I can't believe that it's already ten years old. 

                       I apologize, this post may jump around topic-wise. My thoughts are a little on the sporadic side. Not to mention I keep getting side tracked in the midst of writing.  

                       With that being said, the theme currently on my mind is religion. I am by no means religious or even spiritual. I don't make claim to being some holy person or woman of God. Shoot, I can't remember that last time I set foot in a church. This isn't to say I'm anti-Christian or anti-religion. On the contrary, all beliefs fascinate me. I was raised Southern Baptist (though I'm still unsure what the difference is between that and "normal" Baptist...) and went to a Christian academy for half of the time I was in school. But I suppose normal human curiosity has me studying a plethora of other belief systems, ranging from pagan religions, to Buddhism, to the traditional belief systems of the Native Americans. I have my own conclusions about my own beliefs, but I'm not here to spout my nonsense or preach to the crickets (did I mean choir?). Either way, if ever we meet, never feel ashamed of your beliefs. Please, I would love to listen to anything you have to say. I only wish that the world held more understanding compassion and less judgmental hatred. We're all in this together, after all.

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How am I Supposed to Know How to Steer This Ship?

                  The days seem to march by ever so slowly. When the parade is over however, I'm overwhelmed by how quickly they raced past. Hindsight proves it was in fact a marathon. And that there is nothing that can be done about our distorted perception of the construct we call time.

                   Sometimes when I write I'm afraid that I come across as too pretentious. But then I think, "Who the hell is really reading this shit anyway? Just write your thoughts down and to hell with all the rest."
                   Speaking of the rest. It is one thing to know that you are gossiped about (as certain people are want to talk poorly about any- and every-one) and it's another to see it first-hand. Personally, I try very hard to not say anything about anyone that I wouldn't say to their face. Not saying I never do and exude some self-righteous aire, but I do what I can to avoid gossip. Which isn't too hard, since I don't become too close with any of my coworkers. But anyway, I was told to go home, so I went back into the office to wait for my relief to finish up his shift opening and because I needed a witness for that last part of my shift close. I grabbed my purse an glanced over to the security camera and watched my own supervisor, who only a couple of hours before was cutting up with me and being super friendly to my face, stride over to my replacement and hunch over in the way he does when he's trash talking someone, meanwhile jerking his thumb back towards the office (insinuating my location). Unable to hear details, I could certainly hear my name hissed out several times.
                     Normally this is not a thing that bothers me. But I was somewhat appalled that I was literally feet away from them (though the wall, of course) and could see them being so.. hateful. All I could do was wonder what I had done that was so terrible. Well, a rush of business came in and they got caught up for about twenty minutes while I sat and waited for my witness. After the tide had ebbed, they went back to whatever intriguing conversation they were having. Not long after my relief came back to the office and gave me a look of utter shock that I was still there.

                    I smiled, carried on with business, and then left feeling bewildered. I know gossip is inevitable. I also know that the people I work with, hell, all people thrive off of talking about one another. But I honestly cannot help but wonder how workplaces would be if all that negative energy were to be put to more constructive use.
                   As a resolution of sorts to myself, and as a challenge to you, dear reader, I want to try to talk someone up to another person at least once a day.
                   For example, there is a very exuberant and energetic coworker who went singing through the halls today. My supervisor was saying she shouldn't be doing that in public areas. "At least she is happy to be here. We need more of that." I said in a sad attempt at a defense.
                  I really would like to try harder at rallying up against hive mind and gossip. It's such a shame that we spend so much time trying to undermine each other instead of lifting each other up.

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The Ballad of Costa Concordia - Car Seat Headrest