The sky is blue, but it's all just a lie (it's freezing outside)

It's been a while since I've blogged. Maybe because things have been going well...well, at least were going well. Not that they aren't right now, but I've definetly managed to mangle a few different things. It's not that everything is terrible, it's just that I'm managed to alienate one friend and take advantage of another. Go me... not.

Anyway, regrets are never useful. I'm going to just take everything one step at a time. Like today, I'm going to:

• Work out (yay!)
• Work on Institutional Development (group project and seperate reading guide)
• Try to not freak out about all my Graphic Arts projects being on my now-corrupted flashdrive
• Haul my record player to Chrissy's for the group project shindig
• Not drool over a boy who's dating someone else (no matter how pretty or kind he is)
• Take my daily Mill break-from-life adventure
• Catch up on Psych
• STUDY for my Graphic Arts test. Eeek.
• Eat Grateful Bread leftovers
• Actually listen to my voicemails--I should try that more often
• Clean my room? That's still up in the air
• Listen to the Across The Universe soundtrack for the 3,945,887th time

It's a fine day today*

Wow, that post was angsty. I didn't go back and read it, but I remember what I wrote. Today is a beautiful brand new day. Opinions of others need not affect my own, except to learn from. So I'll focus on being un-selfish, yes--but not let the negative energy consume me. Yay for positive energy :-) And sleep, apparently.


*Lyrics by Iii Opus?

Rainy days often end so perfectly

I often forget why I don't like to trust people. Become attached. I fall in love (in the platonic sense) with people very easily, something I wish wasn't the case. I hurt inside right now, and don't know how to fix it.

I'm left to wonder if my insides are really so unpretty--like the men masquerading as lovers have taught me, along with strangers masquerading as family. Left to wonder if I am simply self-centered, in the negative sense.

I made a decision not to spend a year of my life serving as an Adventist missionary because I didn't think it would be best for me right now. It is self-centered, as in I made the decision with concern for my own life, but is it selfish?

I'd have felt like I was living a lie: on a mission for a god I don't believe (or disbelieve) in, stuck in a world where I cannot be silly hippy Hannah, back to the beginning of this year with its dark, stifling closet.

Maybe I wouldn't have realized how happy I can be if I hadn't found the CTT. So is it selfish to want to stay where I'm at, loved for who I am--being who I am?

Or should I sacrifice petty things like personal style and a group of accepting friends to venture into a year of service? Maybe I'd feel more strongly inclined to go if I felt my service was actually impacting peoples' lives--peace crops work, americorp, volunteering at the local fucking shelter. Stacking books and pretending to be on fire for god doesn't seem like it would help many people. If it's not helping others or me--which I think is the first step to helping others--then how is it selfish not to go? I don't fucking understand.

Any decision someone makes is geared around what they think will bring them happiness. Law school, salad instead of soup, delayed gratification and being responsible, Union over SWAU, focusing on family or work, sleeping in or waking up early.

I want to help people, yes. I want to help because I can see, hear, touch, feel their suffering and the pain rides my spine and ingrains images into my brain. I want it to stop for them, because I can empathize. Because I can empathize, it hurts me. So really, I want to help humanity, Mother Earth, and animals for selfish reasons--if that's how you look at it.

I think everyone is driven by their own desires (helping others could be dumbed down to finding happiness in happiness and well-being of others).

Or is it just me that is driven by so-called "self-centered" desires? And is focusing on what's best for you always selfish?

I'm trying to work this out with words on an electronic page, but it's not helping. I'm just getting mad, which is the feeling that springs up when I'm hurt. I'd rather feel the facade of anger than the pain it conceals.

I shouldn't be hurt, though, from someone's honest opinion. I should be grateful--see it as constructive criticism? But I can't. Especially when I don't understand the problem they point out.

Is it that I'm too afraid to admit my "brother" (who I hardly know) and my ex were right? That I'm a selfish person that treats people like dirt (brother part) and doesn't care about anybody else?

But...if that were true, then why would I even consider this nonprofit PR career path I'm going after? Why would I show up every week to Amnesty, become involved in the Peace and Social Justice Club, donate and over-tip with money I shouldn't spend, recycle, buy clothing that helps children... Or am I just trying to find excuses to convince myself that I'm not selfish?

I don't even know. I don't understand.

All I know right is that I'm fucking hurting, fucking tired, and fucking confused.

Maybe the morning will bring clarity, or at least some cheerful blue skies.

give me something to sing about

I found a beautifully sad song today.

Burning herself 

by Harry Chapin

She was crazy (she was beautiful),

I guess she had to be.

I was angry (you were blind),

because I could not see.

I saw only what her cigarettes had done to her skin.

I should have known the outside world

would reveal what was within.

She was burning herself,

and her hair was filled with ashes.

She was burning herself, 

and her life becomes a flame.

She was burning herself,

and her passion,

her passion was her pain.

She was trusting (you could have saved her too),

all hope had passed for her.

I was lusting (and she gave to you),

that's all I asked for her.

The marks upon her body

and the marks upon her mind.

I could have erased them

if I'd only taken the time.

I never saw her do it, 

I only saw the scars. 

I never could imagine

what would make her go that far.

I wondered,

was she driven by desperate need to feel,

to find out she was living,

to discover life was real.

Or was it that the pain

slicing through her like a knife

was easier to take

than the emptiness of life?

Had a strange sense of drama

caught her in a role,

or was she trying to cauterize

the chancres on her soul? 

I don't know

I don't know

I don't know...

::hums a little tune::

:-)

^ that is my mood right now. My room is semi-clean, I bought some vegan ice cream that tastes pretty good, I'm easing back into productivity, my teacher in Institutional Development is a fucking god-send and granting me a grace period to save me grade, I'm going to Graphic Arts tomorrow (for the first time in waaaay too long), I'm content with my lack of a love life, the CTT rescues my spirits each day, I'm reading a book by Audre Lorde, and... I'm not sure. I'm just at peace again. :-)

One of my friends is hurting on the inside, and I just want to push love and happiness into his heart. Why isn't inner peace a tangible object that can be passed from person to person?