chasing beams of sunshine after the rain

I guess it's time for my yearly spring semester emotional break down. Maybe I haven't broken down like this in years past, but I remember how hard each spring semester is for me. This semester has been really difficult.

Breaking up with Chelsi, reordering my personal life, getting lonely and re-learning to appreciate solitude, trying to figure out my entire future by planning next school year, struggling in classes, struggling at work, fighting growing negative thoughts about my body and shape, living in a homophobic environment, wading through classes completely filled with assumptions and expectations that clash with my religious beliefs, quitting smoking, learning how humanity inflicts harsh cruelty on itself and others, hurting for those whose souls are ravished because they weren't born white, straight, male, upper class, able-bodied, whatever. There's more that makes me want to break down and cry (like I just finished doing). There's also a lot of beauty in the world. I just am having a hard time thinking of it right now.

.ohfortheloveofgaia.

Today is difficult. I just want a cigarette. In one more week I'm going to buy a houseplant to reward myself for making it one month. It will represent health: for the environment, for my body, for the state of my soul (peace of mind).

Distraction? GONNA KICK YO BUTT!

This facebook addiction is ridiculous. And whenever I'm compelled to check facebook (you know, about every fifteen and a half seconds), I have to check Twitter and my blog feed. Just in case. Sort of like when I check a locked door or oven fifty times because I can't remember if I really turned that key or knob. Except with facebook, there's no excuse. Just that same compulsion.

So, along with quitting smoking I'm going to quit my Facebook, blog (not blogging, just checking the feed), and Twitter addiction. Not that it's like smoking, but it'll still be hard. I'm going to limit myself to twice a day: once in the morning when I wake up and once in the evening before I got to sleep. Fifteen minutes each time. Which means I need to replace my homepage tabs with other things. Maybe CNN? Maybe eliminate home page tabs altogether so I stop getting so distracted on the internet? I'm not sure.

If I'm good and follow my plan (which includes weekends), I'll get a star. I still haven't made that star chart, but I'm totally going to. Maybe today. I'm excited.

I want some sunshine.

Chelsi and I broke up tonight. I don't feel the way I thought I would, and the release I felt when I first made the decision is absent. I don't really feel right now, except maybe a bit of negative energy. Maybe I just need sleep and serotonin.

I got a note from the deans tonight, explaining that I need to make another appointment with Linda B. Wondering what now? I talked to Dean M. Apparently they assumed I wasn't serious about quitting smoking and hadn't talked to Stan yet. Confused and slightly insulted (especially at the continued skepticism and slight sternness), I explained that I had had my first session last week and we're scheduled to meet every Thursday. I don't have to see LB now.

I'm tired. So tired. And empty. Done. Ready for change and sunshine. Where is the fucking sunshine? 

Sometimes I wish had the courage, or perhaps just filthy soul, to lie. Especially if it fixed relationships with paint. Gorrilla glue is always so much more obvious, and you can see the cracks. You can't look away from the cracks. You fall between the cracks.

She's not coming back next year. I don't know how to deal with this information. I guess tonight was the last straw (although we both understood, she was still unsettled by Union's misconceptions and stance I suppose). How did I let myself become this attached? I wish I hadn't quit smoking. She wishes Union was more gay friendly. I wish I was somewhere far away, where my throat didn't feel so sore--a giant pebble lodged without hint of relief. I don't want to fall for her anymore. I want my eyes to stop getting red, and I convince them that it's not yet time to crack, break and leak out salty twin streams.

From the Human Rights Campagin:

Great news today: marriage equality has just passed in Washington, D.C.!

It's a huge victory, and you should be proud – your support allowed us to invest tremendous staff time and resources into this fight. We did it, and I can't thank you enough.

But before we celebrate, I need your help. You may have heard that in a blatantly political move to prevent this vote the Catholic Archdiocese of Washington last month threatened to cut their social service programs if the bill passed.

I'm not making this up. They'd cut homeless shelters, food programs for needy families, and health services rather than provide equal benefits for employees in same-sex marriages. And now that the bill has passed, we need to make sure they don't follow through on their threat.

Tell Archbishop Wuerl not to play politics with the less fortunate – ask him to continue Catholic Charities' city-supported social services.

The Archbishop issued a very public threat last month designed to scare city officials into backing off their commitment to marriage equality.

Thankfully, heroic D.C. Council members in Washington didn't cave under pressure. They spoke numerous times with church officials in an effort to reach common ground, while moving forward with the legislation. But unfortunately, Archbishop Wuerl has refused to alter his official position.

The D.C. Council has stood up for fairness and equality. Now they need our help to make sure the neediest citizens of the city aren't forced to pay an unfair and cruel price.

Please ask the Archbishop not to use marriage equality as an excuse to hurt thousands of homeless and needy people in Washington, D.C.

Today's victory means a great deal, coming after marriage equality losses in New York and Maine. The bill now goes to the Mayor Adrian Fenty, who has promised to sign it. The U.S. Congress then has 30 days to review the legislation. After that window passes, the bill becomes law!

We will keep you updated as the bill progresses – and we will have to be vigilant even after the bill becomes law because the U.S. Congress can choose to intervene and overturn the law at any time – a loophole the radical right is bound to try to exploit.

For now, I thank you for standing strong – not only for marriage equality, but for all the citizens of Washington, D.C. during the holiday season.

FML.

You'd think that in my third year of college, I would have learned to manage time and responsibilities. Why do I always do this to myself? I don't know how I'm going to salvage my rhetoric grade (or what's going to happen with my women & minority writer's grade). The irony? They are my two favorite classes and the two I've learned the most in. My engagement? 100 percent. Papers finished (or finish-able)? Fuck.

Not only am I concerned about having shitty grades, but getting lower than a C in Rhetoric would mean I'll have to re-take it. I can't afford that.

I thought this year would be different. At first, I was doing great. Then I met Chelsi and got behind. That new trend didn't end, just progressed despite efforts against it (not that it wasn't my fault, because it completely was. Including the reason my efforts weren't successful in the end; they fluctuated). I don't know how to deal. My mind feels a little bit like burnt, dried out toast. And it's not from drugs. Unless stress and papers are considered drugs. If so, maybe I should go to rehab.

Oh Platteville.

I could never (again) live in a small town. I'm at my parent's house for Thanksgiving break and want to scream.

The only coffee shop around closes each evening at 5 p.m. and isn't open on Sundays. Also, everyone (from the college age boy in head-to-toe camo (who isn't out hunting by the way, apparently it's just the fashion)to the couple in the everyone-has-one pickup truck) act like they've never seen a girl with short hair before.

Not that Lincoln is a big city. It just doesn't shut down completely on Sundays and contains a bit of variety.

On the other hand, it's fantastic being off campus. I'm so sick of being known and knowing people at Union College. Beyond a few friends I've stayed in touch with, nobody knows me in Platteville. It's awesome. It reminds me of this summer in Lincoln, except that I'm not making a ton of random friends right now--just soaking in the anonymity.

I wouldn't mind the lack of new faces at Union College maybe if there were actually interesting ones to meet. A few weeks ago I started researching other (public) universities before I again resigned myself to staying at Union. Next year is my senior year, and it would be fiscally irresponsible to transfer.

Maybe if I had time to go downtown--go to shows, meet people who think about more than what Adventist job they want to wind up with--I wouldn't consider life so lackluster.

I feel like I've blogged about this before. Maybe I did. I don't know.

There are a lot of "I don't knows" lately. For instance, what will I do this summer if I can't go to Europe? The only way I can even consider going backpacking this summer is if I get into MDS studies before then. Maybe I could go backpacking for a month in the US/Canada and make it work financially? But that's not what I want. I want Europe, dangit. So, if I don't get to go to Europe where will I go?

I really want to move to some city where I don't know anyone (or just a couple of people at most). I'm aching for adventure and new ideas wearing new faces. Ashville? Back to Madison, but this time on the other side of town? Colorado? That place in Arizona (or New Mexico) I can't remember, but sounded cool? San Fran? Stay in Lincoln and get a job at Hudson Bay?

And what about me and Chelsi this summer? If we're not in the same city, what do I say? And if we are...do I want to be? (not that I don't like her, because obviously I do).

Of course, summer is a long way from now. I've got time, at least in that department. Maybe in the meantime I just need to get off campus more often and re-connect with summer friends (or make new ones).

meaningless.

Your eyes are white
Round drops of snow
Like I drop her name
In casual conversation
Because I hate the way you
Ask
“Are you going to banquet?”
As if it means
“Do you have a boyfriend?
And I wonder if the whiteness
Is really blindness
(no, my facebook relationship status is not a joke mr.—fill in the blank—)
But then he asks
And I tell
And the vice president of student services
(don’t I pay your bills?)
Wants me to know that
She knows gasp
That I’m gay
so I pull out my
anger
backtalk
piece
peace
nod and say
“Yes, ma-am—-we won't act like a couple in public.
No, we won't sit too close.
Of course sex should be kept for marriage”
But I wonder if she realizes that’ll take a move to Iowa
And well
Union College
Isn’t in Iowa.
And I bet
Even in Iowa
the whites of their eyes
Would still be showing.

She sat kitty-corner in a coffee shop

You roll your eyes. Conspicuous yet subtle with blue cloth wrapped around your head.
“Don’t stare at me. I’m just another American,” says the secret language of your body
The way your accent lies flat—Nebraskan.

A stranger at home.

I don’t know who you worship. Is your head covering called a burka? Are you hindu?

I keep my eyes downcast. Locked to the keyboard.

Your conversation with a normalboy seems a normaldate. You hate the way people watch you as if your entire existence is abnormal.

I wonder if your name is Abby or more exotic. What counts as exotic?

Again, you catch my eyes wandering
You are a picture from national geographic, stuck on a seat in the local coffee shop.

You hate that I stare—and we’re aware of each other. No attraction, no beauty—just cold difference melded into curiosity.

You consider yourself the curiosity, and have little patience.

You must not watch the gossiping eyes follow me to the counter. My head covering, betraying me another stranger at home, is shorn close to the sides.

Lesbian. Hindu.

Whatever.

You think I stare because we are so different.
And we are.
(thank you Union College.
thank you WASP community.)

But appearances are deceiving.

You roll your eyes.

This makes me sick

Texas man faces execution after jurors consult Bible to decide fate

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/northamerica/usa/6338320/Texas-man-faces-execution-after-jurors-consult-Bible-to-decide-fate.html

What do you C?

Life has been pretty interesting lately. Then, again when isn't it interesting? Even if I don't always find it fascinating someone else I'm sure is. Life is life, no matter where you go.

Anyways, enough ramblings (or maybe just time for a ramble-subject-change). Me and C are back together. I'm not really getting too emotionally attached (and hey, the whole bathroom stall instance inspired a new poem I might perform. Maybe I'll post it sometime).

Last Friday, I was preparing to leave town to visit some summer friends. While trying to secure a leave request ("we don't just let people go visit other colleges"), I was called into Linda Becker's office. Of course, I was very very confused. The first half of the conversation had nothing to do with the leave request (so ended up making more sense).

Pretty much, Linda (and Dean C) just wanted to let me know that they know that I'm gay. Well, I already knew that LB knew but I suppose they couldn't have known that I already knew (these last two sentences have way too many variations of "know" in it). I guess they also wanted to say more than just that, like the whole bit where I'm not allowed to try to turn anyone else gay (laughter much? YES).

Overall, I was actually impressed with how they handled "the situation" (for lack of a better word. The only time I'm a situation is when I don't have my morning coffee). They were supportive of me (not saying they endorse homosexuality, of course--don't want them getting in trouble with "good" Adventists), kind, DIDN'T KICK ME OUT, and just wanted to make sure I knew that I couldn't be having sex all over campus. Of course, when they talked about expecting the same thing from heterosexual and homosexual couples in terms of not having sex outside of marriage I couldn't help but think "riiight, because I actually have the option to get married."

Anyways, over all it was a pretty positive conversation (and LB kept saying nice things about me to soften any negativity or possibility of hurt. YAY COMPLIMENTS!)

This usage of the term "LB" reminds me of Jordy's exgirlfriend (LauraBeth or something?). I miss my summer friends. I got to see Dani, Michelle and Kyle last night. Why does everything change?

When I met that crowd in the beginning of summer, it was solid (at least in appearance--and to a new-comer, that's all that matters at the time anyway). Jordy and Kyle were dating. Dani and Cooper were still best friends. Michelle was pretty darn happy. Alexa was still around (with made for a happy Kyle). Then there was Leise and her infamous porch. Everyone that sat upon it were friends (or some variation). Tight.

Why do relationships always splinter like cracked wood? I'm not even sad about this enivitable change anymore.

I remember my first recognition of the fact that things between people always change, and you can't go back except in falsely-bright memories. I don't remember how old I was. Sam hadn't yet joined the Marines, and Paul was living with us, I hadn't left for Academy yet. I was probably around 12, and we all played Dark Age of Camelot (yes, my first recognition of loss, nostalgia and change concerning friendships involved a computer game. Shut up.)

My brother was part of the Society of Merlin, a guild in DAoC. My dad, as usual, had his Vindicator's guild, but for some reason I was drawn to SoM (not to be confused with S&M). I vividly remember the guild leader Solarene, the interplay between the members (it was small, tight-knit group), and being the guild's "favorite daughter."

After a time, I stopped played and probably switched to another game (I played way too many MMOs growing up--thanks Dad). At one point, I returned to DAoC (it still remains the only MMO I actually wanted to play solo--all others, I would only play if I got to play with my family members or friends). I returned to Society of Merlin.

Everything had changed. The new members didn't know me. Old members were few and far between, and even their presence didn't help things much. My young self felt a sense of loss I was unfamiliar with--a desire to return to "the good ol' days."

Sure, I laugh now at the sheer absurdity of it all (not to mention how stupid this makes me appear as I blog about something so nerdy). Yet, as I travel through life's cycles of friendship the lesson I learned as a nerdy kid keeps presenting itself with each new "season" (whether this an actual period of time or just percieved).

Nothing will ever be like the the past (family holidays when I had yet to be as tall as my grandma, my super secret gift club with childhood pals, the CTT, Kalvin, watching Stargate with my dad, being a cowgirl with my mom, cooking with Kaley, everday chats with Todd, late night conversations with Tiff K, getting ready for Friday night Vespers with the girls from Wisconsin Academy, the list is neverending).

I get nostlagic.

Yet, I find all these new adventures much more condusive to personal growth and mostly pretty darn awesome (not to mention, I wouldn't be able to hang on to the past even if I tried--might as well go willingly).

I wonder what current new experiences and environments I will eventually become nostalgic for. C? The Mill?

When it comes to C, I'm not expecting for it to become relatively long term. One of my friends asked why decide to date her then. Just because you may miss something (or someone) in the future, is not a good reason enough for me not to pursue said thing/person.

A book on psychology that I'm reading encouraged me to appreciate (and seek out) intensity in life--not always just things that promise longevity. After all, nothing really can ever promise longevity.

Besides, I'm living now--what good will living in the future (or past) do me? Our life is made up of tiny "present" moments...and darnit, there are so many thoughts floating around right now that I can't seem to find the proper words for.

Maybe I'll continue trying to describe the birds flying circles in my brain some other time.

"I have learned kindess from the unkind"

I've learned that the truth spoken does not always mean honesty.

I've learned that the person said to be the most jealous can be the one with the most decency.

I've learned "we talked" does not always mean "communicate with words."

I've learned allowing myself to like someone when warning flags flare is still a bad idea.

I've learned bathroom stalls paint pictures like heartbruises.

I've learned it doesn't really matter.

Last night, I walked in on the girl I was seeing screwing around with someone else in the bathroom--after a week (and night) of convincing me she "likes me way more than her." Way to go miss "Oh yeah, I'm definitely a one-girl kind of girl." You should have been named Gabby Deveoux.

On a positive note, the person she was messing around with (who supposedly disliked me) came to talk to me, apologized, etc. Major (to use a sexist term for lack of a better one) balls. Have to say I respect her more than the girl I actually liked/trusted.

Now that it's morning and I've gotten sleep, I'm not distraught about it...well, as distraught anyway.

Paint me a picture with hollowed out bones
dripping with blue, mimicking tears left
untouched in my eyes.
Ask me what I love about you,
ask me.
I can hear only the silence
whispering like muffled kisses.
Zip.
I wonder why Silence has pants
and what she's doing with legs
twisted 'round yours
in a lonesome bathroom stall.
Lies can put on such a prettier smile,
too bad you broke the mirage in my eyes.
Too bad you left your lips in another girl's pocket.

fuck women.

"Edie, are you gay?" ... "Am I gay? I'm ECSTATIC!"

It's been a bit since I've blogged last. 139 days, 22 hours and 6 minutes to be exact (aka, all summer plus some). Instead, it feels like a lifetime has gone by since I first "chopped off" my hair. I'm tempted to write about everything this summer entailed, but a) that would take too long and b) it may be prudent to turn my blog to private. I don't feel like doing that latter yet (although maybe sometime I will).

I'm tired of living like the world is made of fine china; tiptoeing around potentially revealing information and spinning away from awkward conversation. This summer I experienced freedom, inspiration and growth (emotional, mental, spiritual--unfortunately never vertical).

I thought that being "out" on facebook/myspace would make some sort of difference when I got to Union. Although my summer friends all knew that I'm queer, I worried about what would happen when my friends/acquaintances at Union College found out. Would I lose friends? Would people talk about me behind my back? Would I get in trouble with the deans?

I needn't have worried. Nobody pays attention to the info page on Facebook, except I guess during stalk-age mode. At first I thought some of my friends had noticed and just weren't saying anything. But then when I'd explain that I met someone over the summer, they kept asking what "his" name is. Fail.

You'd think I'd be happy no one is stalking me and no one noticed the "Interested in women" change on FB. But I'm not.

I was glad my family found out, and I came out to my friends for a reason. It's awful skirting around topics, always fearful someone will find out the "big secret." I thought people would notice that I'm queer, then decide whether or not they still want to talk to me. I'd just be left with true friends. Easy peasy, lemon-squeezy.

Now I can't tell them face-to-face, because that'd just be awkward as I don't know how these conservative students would react. They'd be more likely to freak out and then just pretend to still be friends with me. I'm not into playing pretend.

So I'm still dancing on china, tripping over my own feet. Yeah, I'll go with the cliche and ask "when will this song end?"

How can I incite positive conversation, or come out in a non-scary, non-threatening way?

?

I wish my future grew like tree leaves in late spring, spread across the blue sky in a blanket so vast that only the stars escape jealousy.

I wish my future was a series of numbers jotted down on a napkin or cave wall from some feeble existence or in the mind of an astrophysicist who will never ever let them fall forgotten.

I wish the path wasn't created from tangled curls trapping the grime and doubt at the nape of my neck in the ridiculous hope that I can brush it all aside.

I wish the path was full of Zach's stumbles that masquerade as beautiful pirouettes in a fading sun that has never seen rape, that has never felt fear, that has never wondered

what do I do next?

____________________________________________


::sigh::
what do I do about this year's summer housing situation? Somehow spitting out words that don't make sense to anyone else hasn't really helped.

(in case anyone becomes alarmed, the rape references is not a reference to anything that's happened to me so far.)

Decay

I wonder why I've been so focused on a humanitarian path. Humanity sucks. Why do I love humanity when the individuals in my life make me question global worth? Everyone disappoints, hurts, lies, drowns each other in apathy, etc. Maybe each person doesn't do it all the time, yet every second the world is filled with these actions and behaviors. And tonight, my small section of the world is certainly receiving its fair share.

If I was an alien peering into the lives of our so called "evolved/progressed" specie, I would laugh and cry at how pathetic we are.

What causes us to such lengths of patheticness? What causes people to change, or our perceptions of them, or worse--an awful combination of both?

Death dictates our lives. It's not always fear of our own lives being lost, but the death of things like relationships, memories, places, jobs, families, perceptions, and happiness alter our existances in the most profound and far reaching way.

And I can feel Death on my skin.
She is breathing rancid breath
down
down
penetrating every orifice
with her wretched poisen
spreading through my body
stop
stop
destroying everything beautiful
from the sparkling eyes
staring back at me
to the passion of the people
She eliminates the love
of nations
and replaces humanity's
nature with pure apathy
as shattered rose-colored glasses
line the streets and people begin
to recognize
ugly Death inside of eachother
I hide, but cannot hide the
from broken bits of
battered souls
left by friendships
She's torn apart
Perhaps the Dark Witch is
gone
gone
but I can still
feel Her on my skin

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.

www.fmylife.com

I will never dazzle like a hundred thousand stars.
An aura borealis will engulf our lonely bodies
and blind the ocean of your eyes.
I'll become invisible as the colors cavort
like belly-dancers in the sky.









_______________________________
Emptiness touches the cold crevices of of my soul
As fire flows down and fills my lungs
Why is it loneliest when you lie beside me?
________________________________










Sometimes left over chocolate and silent teddy bears just don't cut it.
Ha, so I just re-read the last line of the last stupid poem-thing (whatever those two tangle of words happen to be). That was pretty much my relationship with Kalvin. Maybe I just get stuck in ruts, or get comfortable with feeling unwanted. I am a Taurus, after all.