The girl who waited

Waiting weighted with wonderings within and without. Wistful, yet wary of wandering.
Willfully wanting a way forward that would whisk away the distraction of longing, whilst remaining resolute in aforementioned affections. Applying wisdom, weeding out and wiping clear the waning warmth with which my appetite had been whetted. Whistling a wily tune of when and why, my weeping washes the windows of my soul. I reside where I am in this world, both wonderful and weary, worse for the welcome but content to contend for now. And so I wait.

It's evil and it's daunting...

"I am sick with wanting and it's evil and it's daunting how I let everything I cherish lay to waste.
I am lost in greed, this time it's definitely me, I point fingers but there's no one there to blame.


I am sick of wanting and it's evil how it's got me, and every day is worse than the one before.
The more I have the more I think I'm almost where I need to be, if only I could get a little more.


Something has me acting like someone I don't wanna be.
Something has me acting like someone I know isn't me.
Ill with want and poisoned by this ugly greed.


Temporary is my time, ain't nothing on this world that's mine except the will I found to carry on.
Free is not your right to choose, it's answering what's asked of you. 
To give the love you find until it's gone.

A need for something, now let me break it down again.

A need for something, but not more medicine.

Something has me acting like someone I don't wanna be.

Something has me acting like someone I know isn't me.

Ill with want and poisoned by this ugly greed."

- "Ill With Want", The Avett Brothers

Hamster

Why is it that in wanting something so badly, so intensely, you become your own worst enemy?

The thing you desire most, you can't seem to have because, were you to attain it, you would love it too hard and squeeze it to your death.

Rome

Rome is burning down in my mind.

Finding every excuse that traces the lines

left behind by smoking remains that glimmer

and reduce all my reasoning to whines and a simper.

Feeling sorry for myself, and abashed to admit

that I may have indulged when I thought I had quit.

Fell off of the wagon and bounced down the road,

rolled under the wheels, then stood up.  I suppose

that I'm being too hard on myself once again,

that it's not even necessarily the end.

But when will I learn not to strive and to strain

and to push so damn hard that I nigh burst a vein?

To just chill the fuck out and to just let things go

goes against every inch of all that I know

how to act, how to be, in my head and in life.

So obviously, I need a release...or a knife

to cut out all the crazy, controlling compulsions

that try to create/avoid the revoltion

that inevitably occurs whether I like it or not,

so I might as well get out of my head and my thoughts.

I need a circus man

Though steel, still beating my heart, passing from stone to ice.
Cold gripping the flow of life from my veins, all that remains from the sweet waters edge.
Dredged from the mud beneath what seemed wet and so clear.
Holding dear to the hope of one still untouched.
Unreached and searching too for one to entrust all the dreams and the truths.
Worn and maybe bruised, but not damaged beyond repair.
Complementary patterns and passions and obsessions.
Redefining life walked as one and as two or possibly five.
Alive and still breathing, not just air, but fire.

Heart of my own heart, whatever befall, still be my vision, O Ruler of all.

"Be thou my vision, O Lord of my heart,

naught be all else to me, save that thou art;

Thou my best thought by day or by night,

Waking or sleeping, thy presence my light.

Be thou my wisdom, thou my true word,

I ever with thee and thou with me Lord;

Thou my great Father, I thy true son;

Thou in me dwelling, and I with thee one.

Be thou my battle shield, sword for the fight;

Be thou my dignity, thou my delight;

Thou my soul's shelter, thou my high tower:

Raise thou me heavenward, O Power of my power.

Riches I heed not, nor man's empty praise:

Thou mine inheritance now and always;

Thou and thou only first in my heart;

High King of Heaven, my treasure thou art.

High King of heaven, my victory won,

May I reach heaven's joys, O Bright Heaven's sun!;

Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,

Still be my vision, O Ruler of all."

- English Versification by Eleanor Hull 1912

Unwritten.

I want to be more.
I want a story.
I want to be the story,
and to write the story.
I want to be important enough to re-write history for.
There is something in me that is worth sharing.
Something worth tearing down for and tearing up over.
I believe.
I'm not being dramatic.
I'm not over-stating.
I am not afraid to fail.
Or if I am, I choose to not let that stop me.
I am not weak.
There is something bigger than me ready to eat it's way out.
But instead of devouring me, it's going to feed me.
And I will be ready.

Even better than the real thing

It seems like the idea of me is much better than the real thing.

I constantly have people tell me how great I am.  And that might sound like a bragging thing to say, but it's true.  And it comes from all kinds of different people who know me for and from lots of completely different scenarios and situations....musicians, students, friends, artists, fellow dancers....and men.  If I had a shooting star for every time in the past 6 months I've been told that I am the most amazing, beautiful, sexy, talented, incredible, worthwhile, girl in the world, then I'd have wishes enough to last me a lifetime.  So what is it about me that makes them choose to keep me in the "Use In Case Of Emergency" aisle?  I have been flattered with words beyond my wildest dreams....but with absolutely no follow through.  And why do I keep falling for it??  Each and every time I think things are going to be different, but even when I KNOW how things will turn out, I choose to believe that maybe, just maybe this one will prove himself.  But why does it have to be that complicated???  Why do I have to have my guard up so high??  My inability to choose wisely is most likely a whole other giant can of worms in itself that probably warrants all manner of introspection an psycho-analysis....but what is really bothering me right now, the thing that hurts in a way that makes my heart ache and makes me want to crawl in a hole somewhere and never come out....at what point do I go from being the most amazing girl in the world to nobody? Or even less (or more) than nobody....someone who it's ok to lie to and use and cheat with and not call back.  How does poetry and 5 hour late night phone calls and thoughtful song dedications and opening of minds and hearts turn into nothing?  And all I did was believe it and go out of my way to prove that I believed it and be honest about who I am and what I want....and then I get tossed and ignored.  I've always said that I can deal with just about anything, as long as I actually know what it is....so maybe that's why things like this bother me so much.  If I was told straight up that I'm no longer interesting, that they were only looking for something shallow, that now that they've seen me closer, I'm just not as amazing as they thought....I mean I'm sure that would suck, but at least I would know and could just move the fuck on with my life.  But when the change is ignored...and when I ask, it's blown off like of course there's nothing wrong...that's when I begin to lose my mind.  That's when I start to feel crazy.  That's what makes me think that it has to be me.  When the same situations happen over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over....no matter how much your friends try to be nice and explain it all away...the only logical thing is to realize that the only consistent factor in all of your bad luck, in each of these scenarios....is you.