Roaming the Hallways of My Mind

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Each moment of your life builds a chain, a hallway on a journey somewhere. Destinations aren’t always known as the path starts to twist and turn on you. I find myself so very often wondering about my road. There are a lot of stories behind me. A lot of mistakes, regrets and misfortunes. But there are just as many beautiful tales in my book as well. Chapters seem to be reading faster these days, I’m not sure why my sense of time is so hyper aware currently, but it is. My daughters are rushing right into adulthood at an alarming rate. Not only that, but I can sense myself getting older because hooking up and getting the right channel on the television is getting harder and harder… why are there 7 remotes? Ugh. Yes, that was a tangent, but I do that. That’s actually exactly how the hallways of my mind became so cluttered. I turn, and weave and curiosity has a tendency to grab and shake me before it redeposits me back on my course. I always land changed.

I recently read a blog about a girl who was going through a break up, because she intimidated people, she was told she was too much, ridiculous, over thinking things all the time. I wondered how many times I had thought the same things she was feeling. One of the worst things I’ve ever heard are the words, “you’re being crazy,” said when I was trying to genuinely explain how I felt about something. I’m not sure how much time I’ve actually debated with myself over the words of someone I love telling me, I’m crazy. I used to write a lot, it freed me. But then it became something that I had to explain to people, because a blog had bothered them, they took it personally. I became censored. A word that drives me bat-shit crazy. I’m a journalist! Censored. FUCK.

You know what’s craziest to me… those moments… the good ones. They always seem to fade in comparison to the bad, until time has started to go by. Then the good ones seem to resurface and remind you of what was great about something. Not in a, ohhhh I would love to do this again way, but more of an… oh yea, that’s right… that was a great day. I have that stupid Timehop app on my phone, and I haven’t decided if it is a good thing or a bad thing in my life right now. I get pictures from a year ago, football parties at our house, us as a couple, smiling and happy…. then I get reminders that 4 years before that we were split up and I was about to go to Italy, and he was going to his girlfriends house. Moments of hate. Moments of love. Just normal moments mixed in as well. Soccer games. Pictures hung in the hallway. Moments further back, before him, the girls and I alone. Times back in Florida, moments I have forgotten actually. The words, “you’re overreacting,” play in my mind. Maybe I always do. Maybe I’m crazy.

I think of the love I’m feeling now. The wonder mixed with the raw hurt. How you can mourn something and feel something new and enchanting all at once. Earlier today I watched the movie Serendipity, and there’s a scene in it when Sarah is telling Jonathan that Serendipity is one of her favorite words, and he says, “Why?” with pure curiosity on his face. Every day since I have known Stuart… since high school, when he asks me why, about something I love, it’s with that same curious expression. He wants to know, because my answer is a little more insight to… me. My thoughts feel rambled. I know that’s how they appear on the screen as well. Maybe sometimes you just have to throw them out there, and see what sticks.  I know that how I feel is different, as love always is. Each time. Something in you changes. Pieces break. What I love about him is completely different character traits than I’ve ever even looked for in another person… maybe that’s because he’s always been my person and actively in my life. To be honest, I’m not even sure. This road is long and twisty, my GPS is down, and it’s not bright enough to see my map. I’ve got to move off of sheer gut instinct at this point. And it leads to you.

Just Another Manic Monday

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imagesThe lyrics pouring through my mind right now seem to bounce from Metallica to Phantom of the Opera to Garth Brooks. I’m all over the place. I painted my nails a deep dark purple, almost black. Fitting. I think about writing. I think of all the people that always seem to have something to say after I’ve written. I contemplate just buying a journal. Internalizing everything. But isn’t it already in there? Putting it in my journal doesn’t free it. Doesn’t let it go. Doesn’t let it reach out.

downloadWords that never set themselves free from my brain, they plague me. They tie themselves down to my tongue and send nervous reactions through my mind. My eyes are darting back and forth looking for somewhere to verbally vomit. It all shuts down. The words bouncing now, around my mind. The coffee gives them jitters. I shouldn’t have given them coffee, now they’re just banging on things looking for an escape.

1imagesI check my watch. It’s 9 am. Lovely. Mon-fucking-day. Ahhhh Monday. I reach inside for inner peace, it washes over me slowly. I can feel it. My breathing calms, I focus on that. Smooth, gravel voice in my ears. Breathe. I must relish in this calm, because in mere moments I know there is someone just waiting to push me down, just to see how I react.

Hey Monday…. not today my dear, not today.

Shadow Casting

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crownI stare at a blank page in front of me, looking for a place to start… seems like that would come easy with the blankness staring back at me. But it isn’t. My soul is reaching. Like a flower, I can feel it pulling me toward light, through the concrete, I’ve always grown, anyway. God is cool like that. He gives, and takes away. Casting Crowns lyrics, “I will praise you in this storm,” come over me like a blanket.

There is so much heaviness in my life right now. I have so much to say. So much honesty to dump out. To free from my guts. I feel like I am running from a serial killer of time, and begging for my life from a ghost I can’t identify. Each day is a battle from beginning to end. Losing people. You’re never ready. You’re never prepared.

imagesI’m not even sure where it started. I just know that it did. As it consumed me, I started just filling the empty with pure anger. Hatred. Annoyance. Frustration. Aggravation. Nothing positive lives here anymore. Well that can’t be  true, because something inside me is fighting to break through the concrete. It’s pure soul. It’s that mustard seed that was planted so very long ago. Planted as a child. Watered as a teenager, standing between two of my dearest friends in a small church in Gulf Breeze. When I was too scared to go forward, both Mellow and Amy held my hands and walked with me. I wanted to be like them. Two of the brightest Christian lights I’ve ever met.

I think back to the light that radiated from them. I think about the other Christians I’ve come in contact with since then. Many lights burned out. Many torches, never made it up the hill. I think about my own light. I know it doesn’t radiate. But I know that like a star a billion miles away, my light is only dull because of how far away I am. But it’s still there. The ember needs fanned.

I’m tired of living angry and frustrated. I’m tired of feeling I am on the verge of collapse. I’m tired of doing what everyone else wants or needs me to do. It’s time for me to do what I was called to do. It’s time to bring this star back. The darkest of nights needs more stars. And I am fucking done feeling dull and dusty.

 

Magnolia Day Dreams

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Magnolia and Jameson
Green glass
Scent of a Marlboro and Chrome
Daylight fading
Rearview mirrors
Wet feet
Just a dream
A lullabye
Taste of Tennessee Whiskey
Take a left
Hit the gas
Can’t look back
No not this time
Day lights fading
Jukebox blazing
Saddles waiting
Shhhhh…. it’s our lullabye
Tonight.

Your Conscience Conscious State

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cf0d83b104b40ba17f4b6bdff281bd54Recently I used one of the above words wrong. But… once I had done said crime… I began really diving into the difference between my conscience and being conscious and the gray state of my brain where they run smack the fuck into each other in a kaleidoscope of WTF and red blood spatter.

I was kindly provided the definition of conscious when I misused the word, and the definition has been plaguing  the crap out of me for days.

Conscious: Aware of and responding to one’s surroundings. Awake. Having knowledge of something, aware. Mindful. Sensitive to.

Conscience: The part of the mind that makes you aware of your actions as being either morally right or wrong.

tumblr_o2tqgzDKUO1v7thq1o1_1280Funny… these words can and should be used together often. If you’re consciously making a decision then you are showing awareness… which means regardless of if what you are doing is right or wrong, you’re fucking doing it anyway. You consciously did that.

Anyway after my in depth correction (from a major pain in the ass whose own intelligence levels I am really starting to question) anyway, after being corrected, my brain could not drop the subject matter. I began debating with myself the context of what one consciously does and where the conscience falls into the mix.

What I came up with was:  I don’t care at all. I don’t care if your conscience is conscious currently.  Because it’s obviously not. Your intervention into all things related to me, is unwarranted, and  I’m done patty caking over it. Take your sweet, smothering, one sided opinions and consciously shove them back up your ass. Or swallow them. Or choke on them. My conscience does not care. My conscience is not concerned, or any longer conscious of your existence at all. Wow. I’m pretty sure I just used both words, right. A LOT.