Well, it's the last day of the year 2010... Actually, it's the last day in the final hours of this year. Interesting eh?
New Year's Resolutions were never my strong suit, nor were they something I ever set before, but I thought that this year it might be exciting if I did set some. They're only goals really... what harm could come of it?
1) I'd like to continue to be AWESOME! Come on, if you know me, you know I'm the bees knees!
2) Let's stick with this gym routine. Build up some upper body strength, work on endurance, and lose some body fat in the process! According to a BMI calculator, I need to lose some weight, so let's get on that too.
3) I'm going to eat three HEALTHY meals a day. No more pizza for dinner!
4) This roller derby thing, let's stick with it and totally work it. It's already done amazing things for my body, self-esteem, and relationships. Let's see what I can do for it in turn.
5) My apartment will stay clean this year. I will do laundry/dishes/various cleanings on a routine and continue to pick up after myself regularly.
6) I will finish my thesis.
7) I would like to extend forgiveness and apologies to anyone I've hurt before, or who have hurt me.
Sooooooo that's it for now! Have a safe New Year's Eve! :)
12.13.10
Have you ever had a dream you can't just shake?
The kind that even though you've tried a million times to get back to, it's just out of your reach?
The details begin to blur, colors fade, and your thoughts become clearer.
Vividity, if that's a word, is something most people seek.
Something so clear and precise, you feel like you can reach out and touch it.
I'd gladly give my vividty away, so long as I don't
See what I saw.
Touch what I touched.
Dreamed what I dreamed.
I can't sleep, in fear it will happen again.
It can't happen again.
I need closure, though I fully have it.
My mind can't stop.
It is Torture.
What started innocently, is no longer innocent.
What started coherently, is now incoherent.
It's only in my mind, in my dreams, and in my thoughts.
No one around me knows the torture, how can they?
How would they even begin to understand?
Luckily, I'm doing better this time.
The words of death haven't been spoken.
I will not ruin this, this time.
I felt like I needed to write tonight in vague and weird terms. I even made a word up of my own. I've got a lot on my mind recently, and all its really affecting are my dreams. I had the craziest dream last night, and even though it was so long ago, it's taste still lingers. My subconscious brought to me a situation I want very badly to happen, though it should never, could never, and will never happen. Not sure what to do about it, since now it's all I can think of. Well, onto another day.
'Till the next upheaval.
The kind that even though you've tried a million times to get back to, it's just out of your reach?
The details begin to blur, colors fade, and your thoughts become clearer.
Vividity, if that's a word, is something most people seek.
Something so clear and precise, you feel like you can reach out and touch it.
I'd gladly give my vividty away, so long as I don't
See what I saw.
Touch what I touched.
Dreamed what I dreamed.
I can't sleep, in fear it will happen again.
It can't happen again.
I need closure, though I fully have it.
My mind can't stop.
It is Torture.
What started innocently, is no longer innocent.
What started coherently, is now incoherent.
It's only in my mind, in my dreams, and in my thoughts.
No one around me knows the torture, how can they?
How would they even begin to understand?
Luckily, I'm doing better this time.
The words of death haven't been spoken.
I will not ruin this, this time.
I felt like I needed to write tonight in vague and weird terms. I even made a word up of my own. I've got a lot on my mind recently, and all its really affecting are my dreams. I had the craziest dream last night, and even though it was so long ago, it's taste still lingers. My subconscious brought to me a situation I want very badly to happen, though it should never, could never, and will never happen. Not sure what to do about it, since now it's all I can think of. Well, onto another day.
'Till the next upheaval.
12.10.10
Roller Derby: The one and only place besides France where it is not only accepted that women do not shave their arm pits, but it is expected and implemented as an intimidation tactic.
Roller Derby: Where men are men, women are men, and the sheep are afraid.
Roller Derby: Where men are men, women are men, and the sheep are afraid.
12.4.10
Sour Cream and Onion Chips. That's what I wanted.
I began to walk, first down my steps, then I took a right out my door.
The back roads was what I thought, I'd take them, it's nice out.
I walked a block, and then another, until I found myself lost.
I walked the streets, following only the sound of my feet.
It was perilously quiet, the kind everyone would like to keep.
Then came a house all alight with sparkling diamonds.
A white christmas tree, crackling fireplace, the works.
I took a mental picture with my hands, then let my feet do the talking.
I hit the lake, walked up the hill, and stood under the spotlight.
It must have looked like the perfect picture opportunity, the type you can't refuse.
A single solitary figure, spotlighted by her thoughts.
Looking out into a sea of black steel outlined by the faintest white wisps.
Then it started to snow.
Like magic the white came from the black.
It floated past me as a reveries often do.
I smiled as a tear rode its way down my cheek.
This was what I was searching for, a solitary reason to be.
Here it was.
I stood there for hours it seemed, lost in translation.
Cars found their destinations down the road behind me, while I stood transfixed.
When a lull occurred I took my leave.
I found another block, another street.
I saw across the street, there was nothing but white snow, so I blazed my own path in the deep white.
I stopped. Clicked. Moved on.
I found my chips in a convenience store down the road. It was filled with loud coeds.
I kept my head down, stayed out of the way.
They took my money, and I headed home.
I took the back roads. Another block, another street.
As I found my block, my street, I walked slowly.
Deep breaths took the cold outside and sliced my being.
Fireplace seared my nostrils and I thought of hearth and home.
The dreams people put together.
As I walked slowly there was a gaggle of girls I could hear. Drunken.
It was when I heard them, when I stopped.
I had never before felt so beautifully lonely in a place that I felt so beautifully at home.
I began to walk, first down my steps, then I took a right out my door.
The back roads was what I thought, I'd take them, it's nice out.
I walked a block, and then another, until I found myself lost.
I walked the streets, following only the sound of my feet.
It was perilously quiet, the kind everyone would like to keep.
Then came a house all alight with sparkling diamonds.
A white christmas tree, crackling fireplace, the works.
I took a mental picture with my hands, then let my feet do the talking.
I hit the lake, walked up the hill, and stood under the spotlight.
It must have looked like the perfect picture opportunity, the type you can't refuse.
A single solitary figure, spotlighted by her thoughts.
Looking out into a sea of black steel outlined by the faintest white wisps.
Then it started to snow.
Like magic the white came from the black.
It floated past me as a reveries often do.
I smiled as a tear rode its way down my cheek.
This was what I was searching for, a solitary reason to be.
Here it was.
I stood there for hours it seemed, lost in translation.
Cars found their destinations down the road behind me, while I stood transfixed.
When a lull occurred I took my leave.
I found another block, another street.
I saw across the street, there was nothing but white snow, so I blazed my own path in the deep white.
I stopped. Clicked. Moved on.
I found my chips in a convenience store down the road. It was filled with loud coeds.
I kept my head down, stayed out of the way.
They took my money, and I headed home.
I took the back roads. Another block, another street.
As I found my block, my street, I walked slowly.
Deep breaths took the cold outside and sliced my being.
Fireplace seared my nostrils and I thought of hearth and home.
The dreams people put together.
As I walked slowly there was a gaggle of girls I could hear. Drunken.
It was when I heard them, when I stopped.
I had never before felt so beautifully lonely in a place that I felt so beautifully at home.
12.3.10
The Routine.
Wake up dear, we're all alone.
Slip the music on and dance with me.
Get to the grind your own way.
Love me like you've never loved before.
It's funny how I never really needed you.
Until I lost you.
Wake dear, I'm all alone.
Slip my music on and cry with me.
Get to the grind in my way.
Love me like I've loved before.
It's funny how I never really needed you.
Until I had me.
Wake up dear, I'm all alone.
Slip my music on and dance.
Get to the grind at my own speed.
Love like I will love again someday.
It's funny how you never really needed me.
Until I found myself.
Comments? Let me know.
Wake up dear, we're all alone.
Slip the music on and dance with me.
Get to the grind your own way.
Love me like you've never loved before.
It's funny how I never really needed you.
Until I lost you.
Wake dear, I'm all alone.
Slip my music on and cry with me.
Get to the grind in my way.
Love me like I've loved before.
It's funny how I never really needed you.
Until I had me.
Wake up dear, I'm all alone.
Slip my music on and dance.
Get to the grind at my own speed.
Love like I will love again someday.
It's funny how you never really needed me.
Until I found myself.
Comments? Let me know.
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