ask/talk box

May 2, 2012.

Certain places hold specific memories. You remember the venues in the city where you stood side by side on their creaky wooden floors. You remember where you were first bought food and what kind of pizza he ordered. You remember the tall bar stool next to the island in the kitchen, your favorite spot in his house. You remember the green field with the purple flowers and the abandoned road that led you to it. You remember the highway exits you took to get to your favorite places and the lane he favored most. Certain people have particular smells. The smell of their hair after the wind has blown through it. The smell of their bed after it’s bed slept in, and then after it’s been tidied up. The smell of their old home, the abandoned basement and the open windows in the kitchen. The smell of their new home, complete with matching white carpets and walls. The smell of their face, unshaven and warm. The smell of their chest when your head is against it; breathing in and breathing out, in sync with their heart. And one day you’ll be in that place and flash back to those memories. One day you’ll breathe in that familiar scent and you will instantly want it out of your system. You will feel sick and you will feel hurt. You’ll feel abandoned and insignificant. But your brain remembers the things it needs to remember, the things it chooses to remember. You remember these things to feel human. You will be bruised and beaten and praised and loved. You will be scarred. You’re covered in scars. Some visible and some under your skin. Some are out in the open for everyone to see and some are buried so deep within you that sometimes you forget they even exist. Your scars begin to itch when you’re in a particular place or when you smell a certain smell.  Your scars are your daily reminders that you were once hurt but you survived. Things change, people hurt you, and if you keep your eyes closed and snuff up your nose, you’re only going to miss out on learning from those beautiful things called scars.

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April 9, 2012. I spent well over 365 days loving you. I loved you when you kissed my forehead and I loved you when you surprised me with coffee. I loved you when you stood me up and I loved you when you made me cry. I loved you when you put me to sleep and I loved you when you were the reason that I couldn’t sleep. I loved you before you loved me and I continued to love you after you stopped. I loved you up until my realization. Why love someone who doesn’t love you back? Why give your all to someone who could care less? Why spend your precious time with someone who would be just as happy sitting alone? You consumed my brain for a great deal of time. I thought of you while I was fifteen, while I was sixteen, and while I was seventeen. I kissed your lips at just sixteen years old and I gave you my heart. I trusted you with my heart. It was tossed away like a paper bag in the wind and you watched it drift away, faking a smile. You let me slip without a thought or care. You let me fall, harder than I’ve ever fallen before. But I’m slowly realizing that maybe this was supposed to happen. Maybe I did what was best and although it hurts like hell, that chapter in my life had to come to an end. Chapters have to end in order for new ones to start. Pain stings and hearts take a while to mend, but it’s all worth it in the end. “So I forget about the bumps and I rise cause there’s so much more to live for when this knot’s untied.”

April 9, 2012.

I spent well over 365 days loving you. I loved you when you kissed my forehead and I loved you when you surprised me with coffee. I loved you when you stood me up and I loved you when you made me cry. I loved you when you put me to sleep and I loved you when you were the reason that I couldn’t sleep. I loved you before you loved me and I continued to love you after you stopped. I loved you up until my realization. Why love someone who doesn’t love you back? Why give your all to someone who could care less? Why spend your precious time with someone who would be just as happy sitting alone? You consumed my brain for a great deal of time. I thought of you while I was fifteen, while I was sixteen, and while I was seventeen. I kissed your lips at just sixteen years old and I gave you my heart. I trusted you with my heart. It was tossed away like a paper bag in the wind and you watched it drift away, faking a smile. You let me slip without a thought or care. You let me fall, harder than I’ve ever fallen before. But I’m slowly realizing that maybe this was supposed to happen. Maybe I did what was best and although it hurts like hell, that chapter in my life had to come to an end. Chapters have to end in order for new ones to start. Pain stings and hearts take a while to mend, but it’s all worth it in the end.

“So I forget about the bumps and I rise cause there’s so much more to live for when this knot’s untied.”

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March 3, 2012. I like listening to the way people talk. The way words roll off their tongues, or stumble on their way out. The way they enunciate certain letters, representing where they’re from, what they love. I like the way words express things; How certain words trigger specific feelings and thoughts. I like picking up on people’s favorite words. Words that make them feel comfortable, words that feel safe. I like when people are articulate. Using words that they know are the best fit for what they are trying to say. I like watching the way words flow from people’s mouths. The way their faces match the words and the emotions that branch from them. I like how some words can make you feel like you’re not alone. They can make you feel whole. They can inspire you and put hearts in your eyes. And how in a split second a word can tear you up. It can punch your stomach and send chills up and down your spine. Words are good. Words are great, actually. They’re powerful.

March 3, 2012.

I like listening to the way people talk. The way words roll off their tongues, or stumble on their way out. The way they enunciate certain letters, representing where they’re from, what they love. I like the way words express things; How certain words trigger specific feelings and thoughts. I like picking up on people’s favorite words. Words that make them feel comfortable, words that feel safe. I like when people are articulate. Using words that they know are the best fit for what they are trying to say. I like watching the way words flow from people’s mouths. The way their faces match the words and the emotions that branch from them. I like how some words can make you feel like you’re not alone. They can make you feel whole. They can inspire you and put hearts in your eyes. And how in a split second a word can tear you up. It can punch your stomach and send chills up and down your spine. Words are good. Words are great, actually. They’re powerful.

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February 23, 2012. Philly bound. I left for Pennsylvania at 8:30 this morning. I’ve been on a bus full of strangers for nearly 3 hours. My legs hurt and iTunes told me that it was going to take 17 hours for the movie I rented to finish downloading..which lead me here. I’m tired and hungry but I’m excited. I needed a break from my town. I needed out for a little bit. I can’t wait to see my favorite little tribe and I’m ecstatic that I get to spend the next three days with them. It’s going to be good to get out for awhile. I need a change of scenery and a break from my family for a little bit. As they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder. The boy next to me has been filling out job applications for hours and The Cardigans are singing to me. Goodbye, for now. 

February 23, 2012.

Philly bound. I left for Pennsylvania at 8:30 this morning. I’ve been on a bus full of strangers for nearly 3 hours. My legs hurt and iTunes told me that it was going to take 17 hours for the movie I rented to finish downloading..which lead me here. I’m tired and hungry but I’m excited. I needed a break from my town. I needed out for a little bit. I can’t wait to see my favorite little tribe and I’m ecstatic that I get to spend the next three days with them. It’s going to be good to get out for awhile. I need a change of scenery and a break from my family for a little bit. As they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder. The boy next to me has been filling out job applications for hours and The Cardigans are singing to me. Goodbye, for now. 

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February 17, 2012. I’m not sure when you realize that you’ve come into your own but I think it has to do with no longer second guessing. I look at my art, over and over again. I compare it to other people’s art and I get intimidated. I drive myself insane and sometimes I even talk myself out of making art ever again. I stare at a photograph and think of how much better it is than mine. But that person’s photo is original, they created it themselves, and the chance that they are self conscious about it is highly probable. It’s hard to judge your own work but you shouldn’t second guess it. I shouldn’t be thinking the way I do because my art is my art. I work hard and I truly love doing what I do. So what if it doesn’t look the way most would expect it to look. How fun can that be? Why make what people expect you to make? I take photos because I love taking photos. I love creating something that has never been created before. I need to stop being self conscious because I still have so much to learn. Second guessing will get me nowhere. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I haven’t come into my own yet. Once I stop second guessing, I will feel whole. It’s going to take a lot of work but I’ll get there. I know I will.

February 17, 2012.

I’m not sure when you realize that you’ve come into your own but I think it has to do with no longer second guessing. I look at my art, over and over again. I compare it to other people’s art and I get intimidated. I drive myself insane and sometimes I even talk myself out of making art ever again. I stare at a photograph and think of how much better it is than mine. But that person’s photo is original, they created it themselves, and the chance that they are self conscious about it is highly probable. It’s hard to judge your own work but you shouldn’t second guess it. I shouldn’t be thinking the way I do because my art is my art. I work hard and I truly love doing what I do. So what if it doesn’t look the way most would expect it to look. How fun can that be? Why make what people expect you to make? I take photos because I love taking photos. I love creating something that has never been created before. I need to stop being self conscious because I still have so much to learn. Second guessing will get me nowhere. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I haven’t come into my own yet. Once I stop second guessing, I will feel whole. It’s going to take a lot of work but I’ll get there. I know I will.

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February 12, 2012. It’s quite terrifying when just the thought of losing someone can create tears in your eyes. Before I met Connor, the thought of needing someone else to make you feel complete seemed absolutely absurd to me. I wanted to do things independently. I didn’t want any sort of attachment or link to someone else. But as soon as he entered my life as more than just a friend who I saw when the timing was right, my thought process completely altered. My heart was up for anything and I wanted no one else. I thought of no one else. And if we’re being completely honest, I still don’t. I don’t want to lay in bed for hours with anyone else. I don’t want to mix coffee with hot chocolate, or get lost in the woods with anyone else but him. I don’t want anyone else to get their hand caught in my messy hair, or make condescending remarks about my hips. I don’t want to watch overrated bands from the back of venues with anyone else. And there is no one else that I would ever want someone to catch me glancing at from the corner of my eye. I don’t see how you could ever be anything but mine.

February 12, 2012.

It’s quite terrifying when just the thought of losing someone can create tears in your eyes. Before I met Connor, the thought of needing someone else to make you feel complete seemed absolutely absurd to me. I wanted to do things independently. I didn’t want any sort of attachment or link to someone else. But as soon as he entered my life as more than just a friend who I saw when the timing was right, my thought process completely altered. My heart was up for anything and I wanted no one else. I thought of no one else. And if we’re being completely honest, I still don’t. I don’t want to lay in bed for hours with anyone else. I don’t want to mix coffee with hot chocolate, or get lost in the woods with anyone else but him. I don’t want anyone else to get their hand caught in my messy hair, or make condescending remarks about my hips. I don’t want to watch overrated bands from the back of venues with anyone else. And there is no one else that I would ever want someone to catch me glancing at from the corner of my eye. I don’t see how you could ever be anything but mine.

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December 26, 2011. I feel like you don’t effectively cipher yourself on your own. It’s not until you let people in, experience real, raw, feelings, and it’s most certainly not until you see more than just your town. People say “I need to be alone. I need to find myself.” But I don’t think I could do that on my own. I, myself, am little bits and pieces of everyone around me, everything I have ever laid my eyes on, everyone I have ever spoken to, everything I have ever touched, and every way I have ever been touched. I am not becoming whole on my own, nor could I ever. And I don’t know if I think anyone ever could. I can only speak for myself on this matter because I only know my brain, but through my experiences I have learned that the simplest of things can have the largest impact. From the smile belonging to the stranger on the train to the loss of a family member. It all amounts to who I am, as a soul, as a body, as myself. I may not be unique, because I am not completely original, but who is? We are all parts of other people because we learn from the people before us and around us. I cannot be solitary by reason of not knowing any better. I know the world and it’s wonders and it is the epitome of my teenage soul. I haven’t come full circle yet and I’m not sure if people ever do complete the circle, but I am original in knowing that I am not original. I am a growing soul gathering up anything that fits in it. Breathing in the world and stuffing it all into my chest. I am becoming whole and I am not doing it by myself. 

December 26, 2011.

I feel like you don’t effectively cipher yourself on your own. It’s not until you let people in, experience real, raw, feelings, and it’s most certainly not until you see more than just your town. People say “I need to be alone. I need to find myself.” But I don’t think I could do that on my own. I, myself, am little bits and pieces of everyone around me, everything I have ever laid my eyes on, everyone I have ever spoken to, everything I have ever touched, and every way I have ever been touched. I am not becoming whole on my own, nor could I ever. And I don’t know if I think anyone ever could. I can only speak for myself on this matter because I only know my brain, but through my experiences I have learned that the simplest of things can have the largest impact. From the smile belonging to the stranger on the train to the loss of a family member. It all amounts to who I am, as a soul, as a body, as myself. I may not be unique, because I am not completely original, but who is? We are all parts of other people because we learn from the people before us and around us. I cannot be solitary by reason of not knowing any better. I know the world and it’s wonders and it is the epitome of my teenage soul. I haven’t come full circle yet and I’m not sure if people ever do complete the circle, but I am original in knowing that I am not original. I am a growing soul gathering up anything that fits in it. Breathing in the world and stuffing it all into my chest. I am becoming whole and I am not doing it by myself. 

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December 7, 2011. Last night you picked up each of my limbs, claiming them as yours. My legs, my arms. You touched my stomach and called it yours. “Mine.” You kissed my lips and professed them as your very own. No one else’s. Only yours. I’ve never felt so whole, so intact. It’s the forehead kisses. It’s the way your body occasionally trembles while you’re sleeping. It’s the caffeine in our veins and the way your skin feels against mine. It’s the pressing feeling of absence when you’re not around. It’s the sun shining through the window in your bedroom and the book I bought you on the window sill. It’s the way my heart dances when you tell me my eyes are a different shade today. I can’t imagine feeling this way about anyone else. You’re the tea for my tired mind, the warm air on my once cold skin. I’ve been traveling down your road for months upon months and I don’t ever, on any occasion, want to take another route. I like the view, I like the scenery, I like the lights ahead, and I like you.

December 7, 2011.

Last night you picked up each of my limbs, claiming them as yours. My legs, my arms. You touched my stomach and called it yours. “Mine.” You kissed my lips and professed them as your very own. No one else’s. Only yours. I’ve never felt so whole, so intact. It’s the forehead kisses. It’s the way your body occasionally trembles while you’re sleeping. It’s the caffeine in our veins and the way your skin feels against mine. It’s the pressing feeling of absence when you’re not around. It’s the sun shining through the window in your bedroom and the book I bought you on the window sill. It’s the way my heart dances when you tell me my eyes are a different shade today. I can’t imagine feeling this way about anyone else. You’re the tea for my tired mind, the warm air on my once cold skin. I’ve been traveling down your road for months upon months and I don’t ever, on any occasion, want to take another route. I like the view, I like the scenery, I like the lights ahead, and I like you.

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November 27, 2011. I turned another year older yesterday. The days keep rolling out behind me and I’m pushing forward at full force. I’m putting my all into everything I do and doing my best at creating a future for myself while simultaneously trying not to forget the present. Living in the now has to be just about the hardest thing for me to do. But I’m at my peak, as of right this. I’m not overwhelmed and I’m not bothered by my age or my surroundings. I have a year and a half left here and I’m not going to spend those days worrying about the countless amount I have left after I leave. It’s been awhile, I know. My brain is finally settling down though and it feels real good.

November 27, 2011.

I turned another year older yesterday. The days keep rolling out behind me and I’m pushing forward at full force. I’m putting my all into everything I do and doing my best at creating a future for myself while simultaneously trying not to forget the present. Living in the now has to be just about the hardest thing for me to do. But I’m at my peak, as of right this. I’m not overwhelmed and I’m not bothered by my age or my surroundings. I have a year and a half left here and I’m not going to spend those days worrying about the countless amount I have left after I leave. It’s been awhile, I know. My brain is finally settling down though and it feels real good.

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October 28, 2011. We all have the fear that we’re going to be forgotten one day. I, personally, know that I’ve had sleepless nights which included nothing but staring at my ceiling wondering where my life will lead me. Some nights are full of worry, some are full of excitement. We all worry that what we do now will be insignificant some day. That what we spend our entire lives trying to achieve won’t even matter when we are buried deep in the ground. The only truth in the matter is that we do not know. No one knows what the future will be like. Nothing is set in stone, nor will it ever be. The best I can do, the best we can do, is live for now and try to keep a good balance of planning while simultaneously not worrying ourselves into an early death. Live a life worth remembering. Make something, change things, be yourself, and leave an impact. Be significant in life. Don’t just be a by-stander because we’re passing this earth down. Leave your footprints in the dirt, the sand, the gravel, the cement. Leave your footprints all over the world, in every part of it. Literally and hypothetically. Don’t make yourself easy to forget.

October 28, 2011.

We all have the fear that we’re going to be forgotten one day. I, personally, know that I’ve had sleepless nights which included nothing but staring at my ceiling wondering where my life will lead me. Some nights are full of worry, some are full of excitement. We all worry that what we do now will be insignificant some day. That what we spend our entire lives trying to achieve won’t even matter when we are buried deep in the ground. The only truth in the matter is that we do not know. No one knows what the future will be like. Nothing is set in stone, nor will it ever be. The best I can do, the best we can do, is live for now and try to keep a good balance of planning while simultaneously not worrying ourselves into an early death. Live a life worth remembering. Make something, change things, be yourself, and leave an impact. Be significant in life. Don’t just be a by-stander because we’re passing this earth down. Leave your footprints in the dirt, the sand, the gravel, the cement. Leave your footprints all over the world, in every part of it. Literally and hypothetically. Don’t make yourself easy to forget.

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this is my online journal. thoughts, emotions, beliefs, fears. it all runs off my finger tips onto this blog. written for me but put here so maybe you can relate. thanks for hangin. xo, theperks

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