Friday, November 27, 2009

I love you

There have been so many times, Taylor, that I have wanted to sit down and write you a letter. So many times when I have wanted to tell you everything. I wanted to tell you what I couldn't tell myself. Tell you of the overwhelming feeling that I have when we watch Seinfeld at midnight. The feeling I get when you come outside and help me bring my things in from the car. The feeling I get when it's you, me and our cat, in bed on a wednesday morning. The feeling I get when I sneak the cherries out of the bottom of your coke glass, knowing full well that you knew upon putting them there that they would be mine. The feeling I get when I threaten to leave and you beg me to stay. The feeling I got when I hadn't seen you in a week and you grabbed me and held me like I was something you were afraid to lose. The feeling I get when you tell me my competitions are "rigged" simply because I didn't win. The feeling I get, Taylor, when all of a sudden I'm by your side and I forget that I'm afraid of planes and aliens and ghosts and the sun blowing up. When I forget that I'm scared of forever, that I'm scared of dying, that I'm scared of losing you. When I forget that I'm lost in this world, when I forget all the responsibilities and obstacles. When I'm next to you, my fear of the end of this world doesn't scare me, because I know that after this life, you'll still be right there next to me.

That is really all I have to say sweetheart. You were my first love, and I will always love you.

Different Names For The Same Thing

She called it love. More specifically she called it "falling in love". It was where she wanted to be. He was who she wanted to be with. ZE, GG, KK, MC- they all fit the mold, they all held her tight, they all filled the void. Each time it was different. Each time was more serious than the time before- more real and yet the thoughts that accompanied the moments that followed were more imaginary and more deluded than they had ever been. Each boy like a new coat of paint, covering up the old and unwanted color. Every day, though, the new paint would chip... leaving her with the same sad wall she had begun with. And because absence makes the heart grow fonder, she loved that wall, and every time it felt like she was seeing it for the first time. She was seeing HE for the first time, all over again. It is in these small and candid moments, when she saw him again, that she remembered the way she felt crawling back through the window at 4am, knowing that nothing was more perfect than HE. Remembered the way he sheltered her from January rain and not yet knowing how he would shelter her from the rain that came in all seasons of her life. It these moments she remembered what the new coat of paint had helped her to forget. It wasn't until much later that she realized that no matter how many coats of paint she put on the wall- it would always be there.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

I feel like I've been here before

I can't say that things haven't been interesting. Obviously they've been overwhelmingly interesting- so much so that I've forgotten about this little diary I keep. Something I abandoned for fear that others may not like what they read here- but something I will rekindle, purely out of need for an outlet.

It's funny to me how life spins in circles. No matter which road I take, I always end up in the same place...every time. Relationships mimic each other, no matter who they're with- nothing changes except for ourselves. We change, while every habit around us stays exactly the same. The same old song and dance and time and time again I forget how to deal with it.

Friday, August 7, 2009

Want some?

U of A hair bows and flip flops! Want some? Check out and be sure to comment or email me at

Thursday, July 2, 2009

It's cold in here

You took your coat off and stood in the rain,
You're always crazy like that.
And I watched from my window,
Always felt I was outside looking in on you.
You're always the mysterious one with
Dark eyes and careless hair,
You were fashionably sensitive
But too cool to care.
You stood in my doorway, with nothing to say
Besides some comment on the weather.

Well in case you failed to notice,
In case you failed to see,
This is my heart bleeding before you,
This is me down on my knees, and...

These foolish games are tearing me apart,
And your thoughtless words are breaking my heart.
You're breaking my heart.
You're always brilliant in the morning,
Smoking your cigarettes and talking over coffee.
Your philosophies on art, Baroque moved you.
You loved Mozart and you'd speak of your loved ones
As I clumsily strummed my guitar.

You'd teach me of honest things
Things that were daring, things that were clean
Things that knew what an honest dollar did mean
So I hid my soiled hands behind my back
Somewhere along the line I must've gone off track with you

Well, excuse me, guess I've mistaken you for somebody else,
Somebody who gave a damn,
Somebody more like myself.

You took your coat off,
Stood in the rain,
You're always crazy like that.

If you've never heard this gorgeous song, do yourself a favor and download it. It says what my words cannot.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Hate Post.

Yeah, I hurt. I hurt just like you. I'm human and I hurt. Lately the hurt has been so overwhelming that I can barely bring myself to live this life. I can barely get up in the morning, shower and get to class. I can barely bring myself to see that I have no missed calls, nor texts from you. Your insensitivity is something I try not to bring to my own attention, but time and time again it comes back to haunt me. It was never anything I could point out, the insensitivity. It was always subtle and hidden beneath resentment and regret, hidden beneath convinence. The comments are backhanded, crude and often disguised but they hurt nonetheless. And I wonder, after all of these years, why I continue to put 110% into everything I do for you. Why I lay in bed at night and dream about our future. Why I strive to make you happy, fill your voids and comfort you. I wonder why. I wonder why, after loving you for so much and for so long I can't just let go. I wonder why you can't just love me back. I can say these things because I know you'll never read this. I can write these things because even though you're sitting just two feet away, you'll never know they've been written. You'll never strive to seek the insides of me, you will never ache to know my dreams and aspirations as I do yours. You will never visit my blog in hopes of getting some insight into the girl you claim to love. This is what breaks my heart. This thoughtlessness and insensitivity.

Suspension of Disbelief [LOST spoilers]

Sometimes I wonder about whether or not I need help. I am an absolute mastermind when it comes to suspending my disbelief during television shows and movies. Unfortunately this has caused a large problem for me. I wrap my soul around these television shows and can’t seem to unwrap myself when the season is over. The LOST season finale was on tonight, and now that Juliet has died, the bomb has been detonated and Jacob has been killed… I don’t know what to do with myself until January 2010. I’ve got to take this day by day, minute by minute even. Rest assured I’ll be rocking myself to sleep every night until January.


Friday, April 10, 2009


Yesterday was a day of sorting out priorities. What is a priority?
-Precedence, especially established by order of importance or urgency.
-An established right to precedence.
-An authoritative rating that establishes such precedence.
-A preceding or coming earlier in time.
-Something afforded or deserving prior attention.
... OK: It's something more important than something else.

I think sometimes we don't exactly know what our priorities are. Maybe we think we know, but really we don't. Talking to HE last night I realized I was not as high up on his priority list as he was on mine. Maybe he didn't realize this, but I sure did. We discussed it and he provided several excuses for which I really didn't give any heavy consideration to. The simple fact of the matter is that if something isn't your priority it's because you don't want it to be. Of course, this is where I would argue that "Yes, my family is a priority... I just don't have the time to see them..." but really, if they were my priority, I'd drag my butt down to see them more often. And this is the simple, sometimes harsh truth. This discussion with HE prompted me to consider my priorities and they, of course, are not where they should be... but hey, I'm 18 and there's room for improvement.

So, are your priorities where they should be? Really?

Sunday, April 5, 2009

It saddens me that I no longer frequent this place which I used to love.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009


Communication is extremely important in all relationships, in my very unprofessional, young opinion. This I know, not only because I have heard hundreds of adults regurgitate that same statement over and over throughout my very short life, but also because I have come to experience the consequences when that statement is regarded as being untrue. Does that make sense? Basically, I'm noticing more and more the effects that a lack of communication can have on all type of relationships.

Of course, there's every day communication. Things that keep a relationship, well, a relationship. Simple babble about one another's day, telling jokes, sharing stories etc. Then there's the kind of communication that is necessary to maintain a functional level of happiness and peace between the two parties. This communication is the kind I have the most trouble with. The talks that begin with me saying, "Well, it's just that lately I've been feeling..." or "I really think we need to talk about..." etc., etc., fill in the blank. Now this not only applies, for me, to romantic relationships, but to relationships with friends and family as well. It's mostly difficult because I feel that in order to make you really understand where I'm coming from, I have to twist and turn my words so much that by the end of the conversation I've completely lost what I was trying to say in the beginning. My meaning is so morphed that I can no longer argue my point or feeling anymore, I'm merely conforming to what I think you want to hear. Now, of course, this is something I need to work on. It's hard for me though, I'm finding, to hurt feelings.


I am going to ATTEMPT to REMEMBER that I have a blog per request of some of my dearest here goes!

Friday, February 13, 2009


maybe I will begin to repost. Who knows.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

I found God on the corner of First & Amistad

I am currently visiting my mother at her new abode in CA, the state I grew up in- more specifically we're in the town I grew up in. It was such a different life and time then. To pass all of my old hang outs and friend's houses is uncomfortable and odd to me. When we left here we left quickly and with few goodbyes. I've been back one time since, but only to vacation in Disneyland... not to re-explore the town.

I half expect to ring the doorbells of all of my old friends and have them answer looking the same they did when I left. An older version of their sheltered, immature, Jr. High selves. The resurfacing of these old memories is weird. I was not nearly the same person I am today. I find it hard to believe that even a trace of the same values and beliefs I hold today could be found in the girl that lived here 5 years ago. (Well, maybe that's not entirely true).

I remember that girl being so concerned about the brand of her clothing and the products she styled her hair with. Obsessed with acrylic nails and her pursuit of them, dieting every day and working out all the time. I remember a girl who was 119lbs and "happy"... that everyone liked her that way. I remember someone who never thought about what she wanted, but what everyone else wanted for her, who they wanted her to be. It wasn't until her world was turned upside down that she grew some sort of a backbone and discovered free will. Passing my old middle school I recall prank phone calls, hot Cheetos's, long walks to friend's houses, elaborate Halloweens, countless, countless sleepovers. I see all the times I fought with the girls I called my friends, and the chaotic times when the pecking order within our group changed. I remember always being at the bottom of that pecking order, and doing everything in my power to be important to the girls who were so important to me. Sadly enough, it wasn't until attending High School (OUTSIDE of California) that I met some down to earth people who broke me (in part) of all of those bad habits. I met people who were interested in my thoughts, my ideas, theories about the world- not who designed my jeans.

It was refreshing, and now that I've seen what down to earth people are like, it's hard for me to come back and remember what a slave I was to social stigmas, trends, and 13 year old girls. Maybe this is all more bitter than sweet. Of course, I've not shaken all of those habits. I was born and bred with the idea that looks are everything, and whether it be right or wrong, I'll always carry some of that with me. I do feel blessed, however, to see how far I've come. Upon leaving this gorgeous city in gorgeous and green California I was completely disgusted with the Arizona home we acquired. It felt like a step-down... but now I realize how much of a step-up it really was (at least for me).

I have come far, I've come to realize that all the things valued here are superficial, and I feel blessed to have been exposed to other ways of the world- better ones- in my opinion. I wish I had known then what I know now... that my move between the 8th and 9th grade from my comfy home in California into the dry heat of Arizona would be, by far, the best thing that would ever happen to me, to date. Now, looking back on all of this, I wouldn't have it any other way.