=(

I had an awful dream last night.

It must've come from re-reading all those poems I'd written over the years for different boys I'd liked...I never knew I wrote so many...for boys. Eww.

Anyway, I came across one from my ex...

And ended up dreaming about him.

*sigh*
I never knew I was still so hurt by him. Why is it always like that? Why do they have to hurt us?

The dream was that he actually moved in across the street from me, with his fiancée. I don't know if he has one in real life or not. I shouldn't care. But in the dream, it hurt so bad. I woke up with an actual pain in my chest...a throbbing ache...and it wasn't just any ol' chest pain.

It was the kind you can only get from having your heart broken. You probably know the difference, too.

He was talking to me, in the dream, and I don't know, somehow I ended up inside his apartment and he introduced me to the girl...and I couldn't even hate her if I tried, because she was just so nice. I don't know how he ever would have ended up with her.

I don't think I want to write down the details of the dream because I'm pretty sure I won't want to look back and have to remember them. But we haven't been together for five years, and I haven't spoken to him in all that time either.

Why should a dream throw me so off-kilter?

I told her, in the dream, that I was happy for them and wouldn't want to split them up (she knew I was his ex)...there was a misunderstanding because he was trying to get me to hide the paper that held our conversation on it...weird. We talked out loud, but then everything was scrawled in blue ink on a notebook paper. She tried to get it from me but I wouldn't let her see it.

We had talked, somewhat awkwardly, about our past relationship and caught up to date a little bit on what had been going on, while his wife-to-be had left the room.

I think I'm going to stay away from guys. Like, totally, until I'm done with like, half of my life. It's utterly useless to engross yourself so much in someone only to have it end and then have regrets that sneak up on you half a decade later...when you thought you'd long ago buried them and moved on.

Seriously.
It hurt.

The Bronx (an old poem...for Blue)

I am in the Bronx
and it reminds me of
the color purple minus red.
Of course I might not see it
I don't know what section to look in
or even if it would be safe to look
anymore
since March.
But I'm probably on the opposite
side of the borough
and there's no hope at all
Or luck might just so have it
that I'm 5 blocks away
or just around the corner
on Gunhill Road
and as I step out of the store
I see those familiar eyes
perhaps registering shock,
perhaps staring in quiet unrecognition
but nevertheless my heart drops
quickly down
through my vitals into my womb
and spills in a mix of
amniotic fluid and tears
into what creates,
shockingly,
a beautiful puddle on the broken sidewalk
And I can breathe.

Scream.

I need to scream.

I think it would do me a world of good right about now.

*screams at top of lungs and flings phone someplace dark and dusty*

Yeah. I wish.

Splendid, unproductive day

So, it's really late now and I have to go to bed (says my mother. I'm not tired.)

But I wanted to write about how...enthused?...I feel. Absolutely enthused. Inspired.
Why?
Because I've discovered a fellow soul. A kindred spirit, as Anne of Green Gables so daintily put it. And I think that's so awesome.

I made a tumblr today, it's pretty cool. I have to get used to how it works, and I want to tweak my page a bit more.
Oh. And I also found a picture for Aria...exactly what she looks like in my head. She's even in a forest scene....I'll post it here ...later.
But I'm thrilled. Utterly thrilled.

My final paper is due tomorrow, officially, but our teacher said we could have the weekend to work on it as long as she had it in her email by midnight on monday...so....I barely have 2 pages done out of the 7-8 she expects.

*sigh*
I intend to work on it tomorrow morning, sitting in my favorite tree on campus. It's lovely, with low, swooping limbs and busy ants that march back and forth across the branches nonstop. It's also very easy to climb up into wearing jeans, and the limbs are poised just so to make a perfect backrest.

And I get to sit there at 8 o'clock in the morning. It's great.
Unless someone sits or stands nearby and smokes, or the fumes from the building construction blow on over there and stifle me.

Both of which have happened.
But lets hope that tomorrow is perfect, no?

*smiles*
Anyway, I just wanted to spill. See you tomorrow, perhaps. =)

Avatar Dreams

If I lived on my own, I would probably be unreachable by everyone.

I see why some people choose to live their lives in seclusion...hidden behind the mask of an avatar and type font.

Believe me. If I could, I would too.

UK Rebel

UK Rebel by eia-kjaerlighet featuring an oversized leather tote

Carlos Miele nude dress
$290 - pret-a-beaute.com

Star shoes
starconverse.com

Paul s Boutique oversized leather tote
$55 - bankfashion.co.uk

Miss Selfridge cross jewelry
missselfridge.com

Wanderlust and wonderings

So I'm feeling better lately.

My mom has been sick, she still is, but at least she's getting treatment now...

I'm probably going to ...no... definitely going to be MIA for the next six weeks. I have three hardcore summer classes that I'll be taking; Organic Chemistry, Physics, and Physics lab. 

Blechh. 

But...I'm determined to do well. 

Also, I finally signed up to volunteer at my university hospital. 

And changed my career path. 

And have reached a new hair-length goal: BRA-STRAP LENGTH!!! 

And I'm going to buy a SLR camera, finally. I'm getting a refund from financial aid sometime in the next 3 weeks (hopefully) so I'll actually be able to afford one. 

I hope to use it to make some money...

...besides soothe my artistic instincts. 

I tried to make a photography blog, but I don't know what really happened with it...it sort of....sat there. Or maybe my internet conked out. I don't remember. But I think it's called purple pixels. 

It's floating around here somewhere, with nothing on it. =(

I have to pee. I'll be back. 

*five minutes go by*

I'm back. ^_^ Much better. Ahem. 

Oh yes! Lovely news. I've stretched my ears two sizes, first from 18g to 16g, and now, a few days ago, from 16g to 14g. ^_^ I'm so happy! I'm finally wearing plugs! Small ones, no doubt, but plugs nonetheless!

Enough exclamation points for now. 

I've stumbled across a photography blog by a young girl/mother/artist named Nirrimi...she's literally the embodiment of what I want my life to be like. Here's her page: Wanderlust

I don't know how to reconcile all my desires with my life. I want so much. There's got to be so much more than just going to college, graduating, getting a job, getting married, and having kids and a house. 

How boring is that? So what if you're doing something you love? 

There's the entire world around you...why wouldn't you go out and travel, and experience it, and see how other people live, and taste other culture's food, and walk barefoot on the beach at sunrise, or hide in a cave in a forest during an impromptu thunderstorm?

I used to want to go to med school. But there was so much pressure with that, and now I can honestly say I don't believe I'm cut out for it. I'm too dreamy. I'm too...artistic. I would stifle with all the stress and responsibility that accompanies that. The years of hard work. 

I want to live my life freely. I want to express myself in the clothes I wear, in how I do my hair, in what I choose to put in or on my body, and in what I create. 

I love to learn. But not to apply the knowledge. 

Heheh. Odd, I suppose. But then...the perfect career for me is.....RESEARCH. Tada!

This is an awfully long blog post, but I need to express myself. After all, that's what blogging is for, right? 

Is it wrong that when I see myself falling in love (which I do believe is possible, contrary to what I tell many people) it's not with someone of the african-american race? 

Maybe it is wrong. I don't care. 

Maybe it's a product of having grown up near/in a ghetto...and just seeing the type of "black male" that such a culture produces. I want nothing of it. 

Back to traveling the world. My mother left Norway and moved to America on her own when she was twenty-five, just two years older than I am now. Before that, she had been to Africa and Germany. Is it really my fault that wanderlust runs in my blood? 

I want to take a road trip across America and play guitar by a bonfire in the midwest, surrounded by fascinating individuals and laugh up at the stars. I want to dress in jean shorts and cowboy boots, lace tops and 0g plugs. 

I want to climb the trees in the Olympian forest of the Northwest, and visit a Native American reservation...heck, I want to live there for a while. I wonder if that's legal. 

I want to travel with nothing but a camera and a wallet. I want to own a run down, beat up pick-up truck, in faded blue chipped paint. 

But what I don't know for sure is....does all this traveling require money? Do you have to be rich? Or can you just hitchhike? And then comes the problem of the fact that I'm a girl, and it's "not safe" to travel like that. 

But I have a friend...one of my best guy friends, who shares the same wanderlust as I do. 

Problem numero uno. 

He likes me. 

Would it really be smart to travel the country alone with him? No. 

*sigh* 

I have an 8 page paper to do that's due between friday and monday, and it's wednesday evening now. 

I ought to sign off and shut up for now. 

Thanks for listening. I love you.