Friday, June 27, 2014


Maybe it is the stars, maybe it is me using this as an avoidance strategy when my room needs to be cleaned, or maybe it is the Edge of Tomorrow (entirely appropriate given what time it is)...whatever the reason I am here, and let it be known that I make awesome decisions after midnight.

Something I was doing a few months ago was chasing after the ghosts of tire-tracks I once knew; tire-tracks that were born of a small sense of adventure and pride, with a heaping teaspoon of hormones. I kept wanting to go back to that night when we were doing doughnuts outside that building, trying to see how black we could make the ground. Maybe if I went back to that night I could make you not hate me, make everything that followed not as frightening, I could have spoken my mind, and I could have been confident in making my mark instead of caring who was watching and what they thought. Just a few months ago, I would have gone over to that spot and stared at the asphalt until I was convinced I saw the mark of those tires and heard them screeching on the pavement. I only went back once. Once was enough to know that the mark wasn't there, we weren't the only two to drive that spot and constant traffic had eradicated our mark from that section of road.

I was left with this hollow feeling that I had hoped my pilgrimage would fill but instead it only increased depth. For a moment, I heard J. Gatsby pushing me to try to repeat the past. To reclaim those lost moments and make them what they should have been: filled with life, chances, and feeling. But I knew I couldn't go back; couldn't repeat the past. Try as I might, nothing was anything like what it could have been. Just recently have I come to realize that it is okay. It is okay that nothing quite turned out the way it could have; the past doesn't asked to be apologized for, only to be owned. To learn from your mistakes is the greatest tool to prevent other hollow pilgrimages.


The title of this post, B.S.U.R., is the first song on side B of this James Taylor record I have, and consequently it is played more than most because side B is just better. Anyways, I've been trying to come up with a blogpost for a while and all the drafts I have come up with have this sort of idea floating around it, hence B.S.U.R..


As I finish up this bag of Cinnamini Crunch, I realize that there is little I can add to this post. However, I would like to ask a question of everyone reading this: which way do you fold your origami crane? The answer could be instructions, but I'd like it to be something more than that. Answer this question in prosaic text with your eyes closed. Or just link me to wikihow. Anyways. It is late and I'm calling it a night.

Tuesday, May 6, 2014

All of My Days

Here I am once again, sorry it has taken so long. Although, really I don't know who that apology goes to; I think it goes more to me than any of you who are reading it. Time has gotten away from me and I haven't had the wonderfully cathartic experience of inscribing my deepest, strangest, and most dear thoughts in any medium in a long, long time. But I might actually get something posted tonight.

I have found this incredibly perfect song: Wolves and the Ravens. "I am easy to inspire, there is little I require...I wasn't yours and you weren't mine, though I've wished from time to time we had found a common ground...through the never-ending maze where the way is seldom clear, there is no map or compass near, I drive a ship I cannot steer..." I love that. It suits the night, the moment, and who I feel I am right now.

The last few months have been really hard for me (I will be as in keeping with my honesty policy on this blog as I can). Coming back from India to a place I haven't really lived since high school was not an easy transition, although I am coming to realize that it was the transition I needed to make. Change is not always easy; I used to think it was for me. I was determined to be different, to embrace every single kind of change. I've since realized that changing of yourself is more difficult that I had ever imagined. After getting back I realized that in order to become the person I wanted to be, I was going to have to start from scratch in a sense. Before India, I had never been honest to myself or with others; there were moments and phases, yes! However, I did not consistently act in accordance with who I was or who I am so I decided to change that. I've been working on it a lot, although many of you can't tell; I am loving how it feels. I can interact in an authentic way because I am being true to the divine spark within me and leaving out anything that makes me feel like less. That was the best detox I think I could have ever done. With that honesty has come sadness, heartache, many nights spent crying because of frustration at myself wondering why I couldn't just take the easy road. I, I have taken the one less traveled by. Looking back on the last little while, I don't think that my conscience would have allowed me to act in any other way; I have always had this need to know who I am and what I am doing and to always be true to that. The hardest thing is that I've been learning how to be a person again, I've rebuilt Emily from the ground up and she has been learning to crawl and walk and talk again and it was hard; it is hard. And it will continue to be hard until the day it stops. But I have learned so much, I couldn't go back now.

I am so grateful for those who have stuck with me in patience through this hard time, and been there to listen and such when I needed it. I have learned just by being around you, thank you!

There will be more to come soon. I am hoping that I can post more often now, fingers crossed! But it is mostly for my own sanity.

Just a little reminder that I feel keenly and is echoed in V for Vendetta:

But what I hope most of all is that you understand what I mean when I tell you that even though I do not know you, and even though I may never meet you, laugh with you, cry with you, or kiss you. I love you. With all my heart, I love you.

I salute that strength of human spirit within you that you may have forgotten about. I honor the divinity that fills your eyes when you talk or listen or smile. I give thanks for the good which you do and do not know about. I pray that you may love you as none other than yourself. Every day is the beginning of your adventure; each and every day you have the choice to become who you want to be, even if that growth is painful. I pray you have the courage to make those decisions and the fortitude to carry them out. I pray that I may be as strong as you one day.

Find peace with the world and your place in it.

Now is the time to come alive. Heaven knows I am doing my best.