Friday, February 3, 2012

Like Cleopatra, Joan of Arc, or Aphrodite

This is the third time I'm starting this post. I keep writing it to people, directing it at them, but it is not for them. This post is for me. This blog is for me. Forgive me if that sounds selfish, but if you believe that I am indeed selfish then you greatly misunderstand me. A bit. I am not being selfish because I never said that this blog would be anything but mine. My thoughts, feelings, impressions, and musings. If you were under any other impression, then I am greatly sorry. I never meant to share it with you and therefore I am not being selfish if I keep it all to myself.

Now to truly begin again. This time it feels right. I am writing this lying in bed with my pillows all around me. Settling in for the night. I have already had my cup of tea and watched an episode of Downton. I will wake up early tomorrow so that I can accomplish all that I need to, and it seems as though there is a lot. But this week has been one of the most wonderfully bright that I have had in a very long time. I have enjoyed almost every second of it. It all started Sunday. I woke up early, made some tea and watched an episode of Downton. Then I decided that I wanted to do something before church and so I hiked into the canyon and over to where Avalanche Pass begins. It had snowed and so I didn't want to go any further or else I'd hurt myself and fall down the mountain or something. I got home as church started and so I showed up a little late. I accomplished a couple of other things that all contributed to Sunday being an awesome day, but I can't remember. Other than talking with my family, which was fun!

Monday was great. I skyped with one of my best friends for a couple hours (and skipped FHE...whoops. Worth it.). And I really want to talk about that, but won't. It just doesn't seem right.

Anyways, that has kept me going almost all week. I've just felt really good about everything. People say "Hey Emily!" as I'm walking around campus and it's been a Hall&Oats "You Make My Dreams" kind of day almost everyday. This semester has been absolutely beautiful.

I was also going to write about how I feel guilty about a couple things, but I will let that sentence suffice as far as that subject goes. Just know that I am sorry. But the people I'm apologizing to will never find this blog, so I don't know what makes me feel better.

I'm just going to include something that is a little embarrassing that I wrote the other night.

When I walk, it is because I just need to get away. I need to be with people who understand me. I can’t talk to normal people sometimes. I don’t mean that I’m better than them, I am just different. Sometimes I just want to talk and have people listen. But there is no one like that but the stars.

So I walk. And I walk. And I walk. My feet know where to go. The know exactly where I need to go. One time it was up a tree, another it was to a bench. I just walk because it is not the destination that matters. I will continue to go farther if I just keep putting one foot in front of the other.

The stars keep good company. I do not even have to speak my thoughts for them to understand where I am coming from. There is no misunderstanding with them, just a misunderstanding of self. Sometimes I feel as though I simply need to observe humanity as opposed to being a part of it. I don’t know that I have ever felt a part of it. I am just looking for someone that shares the same distance. Or maybe what I need is someone who has no distance and can teach me how to live and feel. I exist. A thinking machine. I can’t cry anymore, no matter how hard I try. I don’t feel friendship or loss. I laugh but it can be a transient, empty sound. I don’t know how to act around people anymore. Where do I go from here? I need to get out. And so I walk.

I need movement, I need change. This is the hardest part of the journey for me, the pitstops. Who cares where I am going as long as I enjoy the trip there? I tend to lose sight of things when we stop to rest, though. So I climb up to the tallest branch I dare in order to get perspective. So I can see how small the city is when compared to the mountain and how small the mountain when compared to the sky. And how I am smaller than it all. One tiny little speck, smaller than whoville.

I keep wanting to hear a knock on the door and have it be you. I see the cars drive past and think, “What if it were you and you were driving past, saw me, and understood that this is more important than anything? What if you stopped for me? What if you looked outside of your small world and you let me expand it? What if...what if… what if”

I am alone. I am not lonely, but I am alone. I’m going to go for a walk again. Go with me? But if you have nothing of value to say or think, or if you feel it would be awkward or weird, then you are not invited on the walk. You must stay home. Or go another way. I take the deep, curvy route and get lost. You can take the straight and proper, but I’ll take the dirt and underbrush. I’ll step in puddles of mud just to get dirty because it makes me feel as though I am a real person. It makes me feel alive. I sleep without a pillow because I can imagine that I am sleeping on the ground and then I feel a connection to the earth while I am fifty feet above it. I walk barefoot just so I can feel the dirt squish between my toes. The smudges it leaves are reminders that I have lived.
Last Song Scene:

I am so anti-social tonight, but I really do not see that as a loss on my part. I would only come across as superficial and silly. I would not be able to be myself. I can be myself here in my bed, writing and such and watching Downton Abbey. I’ve never seen it before, but I’ve heard plenty of good things about it. The youtube clip above is from Last Song, which I have not seen and which I do not wish to see. The thing that kills me is that I want that. I want someone to kiss me like that. Nothing less. (I will take more…) The way his hands were large and manly with some knobbley knuckles was something I love. The way they fit underneath her hair. How he scooped her up and after kissing her quite thoroughly told her that she was not like other girls. I can only dream about the kind of guy I’ll have.

I am so afraid that he is going to be awkward and embarrassing. That the will be the kind of guy that no one else would want, except me because I would convince myself that I love him. He won’t want to travel and will be extremely proud. He will be set in his ways and will not cut his fingernails.

I keep thinking that because I think that he’ll be perfect. There are so many different ways that I can mess things up by thinking about it. I think that he will be tall, muscular, and at least weight more than me. But strong. His thighs may be the same size as mine, but they are more muscular than anything. He can carry me. He loves to travel and doesn’t need anything more than the clothes on his back to be happy. I will be so completely and incandescantly happy. I will love him more than my own life. I cannot believe that it could happen to me. I do not feel as though I am important enough or anything to believe that I could have that.

Someone who likes to garden, likes curry, watches Pride and Prejudice with me, and likes to read. I can go with someone who doesn’t play music but someone who doesn’t read makes me almost sick. Let some sort of a person exist. Someone I'm as comfortable with as I am with You. And someone as handsome as You are. And who has a smile as good and rewarding as Yours.

That is all I wrote the other night. I was going to edit some stuff out, but I didn't. I don't care if you read it and judge me because it is me. I do feel those feelings and I would be dishonest if I didn't include them. Judge all you want. But I am just expressing myself. There is something so beautiful about pure expression. If you're wondering who 'You' is, well that is a post for another day. I know who it is and he would never watch Pride&Prejudice...The problem is that he might, just because he knows that I like it. That kills me because I can't like you. Here is the deciding factor: You don't like to travel. That automatically rules you out of any long term romantic relationship with me. Let's just stay best friends forever? I would love nothing more than that. You could be the actual Dex to my Emma, except our story turns out a little differently. One because you never would have liked me and if you did you were not obvious like he was. Also, my Emma is not as desperate and she likes to travel. And hike. And camp. And you don't like to. So best friends we shall stay.

I'm listening to "Mary Mae and Bobby" by Joe Purdy, and I LOVE that song. Almost as much as I love "Lime Tree". Just thought you'd like to know.

Bed is calling to me. The writer in me wants to continue but the rest of me is kicking the writer part in the butt so that I can sleep and such. Sometime I'll have to write about my dream last night. It was so ethereal.

ANYWAYS. Goodnight, goodnight. I hope your week has been as good as mine.

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