#musingsofanintrovert

[cubismdreaming]

contemplating the inevitable.

I’ve come down with a vicious cold over the course of the past three days, and as a result, I haven’t seen much variation aside from my four bedroom walls as of late.  The past 72 hours have blended into this one super-long span of time that seems somewhat lost in space. Funny how things stop feeling real when one is able to just EXIST for awhile, outside of work and school and all of society’s other mundane demands. It’s like, as humans, we only know how to exist from point A to point B. You set your alarm because you know you have to get up for school, you rush home so you can have enough time to get ready for work, you clock out of work as quickly as possible to have time for one drink before last call at the bar. Humans are always in motion, always preparing for the next step, revolving our present around the consequential future. Take away the demands and everything begins to feel hazy and dreamlike.

 I did manage to step outside today with my dog. He limps down the stairs and pants heavily in the persistent September heat. Today is his last day on Earth and he doesn’t even know it. It pains me to think of it, but even if I could tell him, I don’t think I would. All that matters is that it is the first day of Autumn and I’ve never seen the sky look so blue. We only know how to exist from point A to point B. I wish I could somehow put a stop to this, to the unforgiving ticking of time that put sickness in your bloodstream, that makes loved ones look at each other one day and feel nothing, that makes you look in the mirror and question who you even are anymore, and, are you alive, really? But the thing about time is that it doesn’t stop, or slow down, or speed up for anyone.

 We divide our time up into moments, into a sequence of events, because the inconceivable future scares us. But it’s kind of like being on a roller coaster, when you’re going up the hill and you know the drop is coming. And you start to wish you could go back, do things differently, that maybe you’re just not ready. You’ve never felt so powerless, and the drop comes whether you’re ready for it or not, but if you choose to embrace this inevitable fate you find that you feel more alive than ever. I am alive.

[cubismdreaming]

friends with benefits

Love me only in the dark. Where our bodies exist in the flesh and in shadows casted on the walls. Obscure dark dancers mirroring our movements – sketches of human beings role-playing romance.

Love me only where the light can’t find us. Where the untruths and unanswered questions are put to bed;

Do you love me?

I love your skin against mine; the way the goose bumps come to life beneath my fingers.

When the covers are pulled back and the darkness enfolds us, we communicate in a language that’s different. This is a Morse code relayed by a series of breaths. Breathe harder if I’m doing all of the right things.

Do you love me?

 Exhale –

Moan my name so I remember that I’m here, that this is real. This moment, my body, hold it in your hands. It pulsates to the beat of the night; the moonlight soaks our flesh in bleach. In this Egyptian cotton microcosm, we are cleansed, we are born again, we are freed.

Love me only until the sun comes up. Until the first hint of dawn peers through the blinds and paints stripes on our backs. Rat’s nest hair and whiskey breath. My body ticks at the anticipation and I rise like clockwork, avoiding eyes and embracing the fresh air, praying,

 please, please, please don’t love me.

[cubismdreaming]

a letter about love

Write about me this time, he said.  I stare stupidly at this screen, trying to figure out how to shrink what I see and how I feel into Times New Roman size 12.  And I’m realizing, if I were to try to capture the essence of who you are in words, it just wouldn’t be you anymore; it would all be stupid little symbols and punctuation lined up in adjacent rows like soldiers. It would lack depth and magnitude, because there is no reading of emotions like this, there is only feeling and knowing, and to feel you and know you is all at once to love you.  

I want to live with closed eyes because if I open them just once, the world around me will look like nothing at all, but when I close them it’s you I see and it’s like I can see everything once again.  And a smile will cross my lips the same way it does when the daylight surrenders to the night and we bury ourselves in a sea of blankets, not daring to come up for air until the sound of birds chirping signals the crack of dawn. Trace your fingers down my arm the way you do, tell me a story through sleepy eyes and mumbled sentences, tangled legs, messy hair – this bed beneath me is the Earth itself and you seem to be the moon, rotating mesmerizingly around me as I gaze up in awe, helpless to this gravitational pull.  Do you understand now?  You trace your lips along my body and create a constellation, and when you reach my lips I never want to pull away, because breathing the same air as you feels as though I am breathing for the first time.  This oxygen never tasted so pure, so delicious, the way that it does when it’s moving from your body to mine.  

See, there is no describing a feeling like this.  There is only comparing it to things bigger than you and I, things so big they can’t be measured; faraway galaxies undiscovered by even the most brilliant scientists, where radiant planets rotate sleepily amongst clouds of stardust and asteroid belts.  That’s what I see in the depths of your eyes, that’s what our love is.  Do you understand now?  No, I don’t think anyone ever could.                

[cubismdreaming]

It’s strange,

the way that I feel this week.  I’m not myself, my thoughts are scattered, I’m tired.  I react so strongly to changes, both physically and mentally, and I feel like things are changing.  And while destiny seems to be pushing for me to move along with the changes, I find myself being dragged by them instead.  How am I supposed to remain myself when everything around me is shifting? Or am I supposed to be changing too? I desperately want to get away for a while, which is why this vacation to Miami couldn’t be coming at a better time. When I’m there, I won’t have to worry about being anything at all, because no one will know my name or who I’m supposed to be.  I can just exist in silence for a while.

[cubismdreaming]

Some people just don’t get it.  And by some people, I mean the majority of like, everyone.  I honestly am so against the idea of being in a relationship right now, and when I say this, I feel like people automatically assume it means one of two things: 1. I’m some antisocial, emotionally unstable chick who’s been hurt by some dude and as a result hates all men. 2. I can’t commit to a relationship because I’m hooking up with 100 or so different dudes.  

There’s this stigma attached to single girls for involving themselves with men and not putting a title on whatever their relationship is.  We’re sluts, or side chicks, or we’re “easy.”  And I just don’t get what the obsession is with claiming ownership over another person. Can’t two people just connect on an emotional and physical level, enjoy each other’s company, respect each other, and have that be enough?  I’m young, still working on myself and getting my life together, and I feel like I don’t have it in me to fully devote myself to another person and have them stamp this daunting “girlfriend” title on my forehead.  But at the end of the day, I’m human and it’s nice to have conversations with someone that go beyond the surface, getting to know each other inside and out, cuddling and watching Netflix, going on the occasional date, or going to a bar and getting drunk beyond recognition and not having to argue about it the next day.  

I see people in relationships and plenty of them are fucking miserable, and arguing over the most insignificant shit.  Because I think sometimes, putting the “boyfriend/girlfriend” title on a relationship tends to stem from insecurity and paves the way for fights because now you have something to lose. Don’t get me wrong.  Relationships can be beautiful if you’re with the right person at the right time, but I’m involved with someone right now, and he’s pretty fucking awesome, and he has respect for me.  And we’re both on the same page about not wanting to be in a relationship and that’s okay.  You don’t have to own someone to enjoy their company, it doesn’t mean you’re using each other.  It means you want to live life and experience things on your own, but at the same time, you know it’s kind of really nice having them around.  Spread the love, friends, and stop judging one another.  

[cubismdreaming]

Today, it rained.

Days like today – the clouds just can’t seem to quit their crying and there are teardrops on grass blades and the whole city seems to flicker around me like in the scenes of a black and white film.  The atmosphere seems a bit more hushed than normal, like the world is quietly listening to the sounds of Mother Nature’s somber melody streaming down over its head. I don’t know what it is about rainy days that instill in me this profound feeling of nostalgia, but I can’t pinpoint what it is that I’m longing for; maybe something I’ve never even really had.  The other day, though, everything felt different.  I woke up with the window open; a slight breeze made my hands cold and made the air in my room smell fresh and brand new.  The sunlight was just beginning to pour in through the window – warm and lovely, like the color of honey.  I immediately felt compelled to go outside, and I stood on my porch staring out at the world with my eyes still half-closed, the patches under my eyes like purple stains.  But it was amazing because I realized it was Spring and I had made it through the insufferable Winter, just when it was starting to feel like some burdening guest overstaying its welcome.  And I felt like the world around me was brand new and filled with possibility, and I had this wonderful feeling of what could only be described as love.  I hope one day someone can look at me and feel that way, like maybe in my eyes they can find warmth, and all of the rain and snow will melt and fade away.  And they’ll see that things can be different and we can hit refresh and the world will only play out in one season – today, and tomorrow, and the day after, it will be Spring, Spring, Spring.  

[cubismdreaming]

A rare rant for the lost soul.

I’m an English major because I like words and sometimes I’m good at putting them together, but at the same time I also like eating and it worries me that my college education will never be enough to allow me to get by.  In a contemporary society that praises the engineering student and shames the artistic soul, is there any hope for the struggling writer? I’ve recently realized, I don’t care.  I ask you what you want to do with your life after college, and your degree already has your future drawn out to its exact dimensions, and I totally respect that.  But for once, can people respect the fact that when you ask me what I plan on doing, my answer is anything I want?  I think there’s something beautiful about the fact that when I’m done with college, my life will literally be spread before me like an open canvas for me to illustrate in whichever way I damn well please. Like, I want to eat spaghetti and drink red wine in Venice on a gondola while some dude plays the mandolin in the background.  I want to feel the sand between my toes in Abu Dhabi.  Or ride a llama in fucking Macchu Picchu or see the Northern lights or ski in Sweden and I swear I will come back home so in love with the world that I won’t even care that I’m busting my ass serving to pay for all of this because, I’ve realized my own self development comes before a paycheck. I will never allow extraneous, society-construed circumstances to define me or my success because success comes from within and my career will come afterwards.  I used to spend all of my time panicking about my future and not letting my family down and it genuinely took a toll on my sanity, so, moral of the story is to love yourself and do what you want – and fuck the rest.

[justcallmebishop]

It took me a lot of emotional energy to actually dial your number and call you.

it took even more emotional energy to leave a message with my actual voice sounding incredibly awkward, not really knowing what to say.

So when you return my call not having listened to the voicemail you have crushed my spirit, forcing me to use my voice again to repeat everything I thought I already told you.

Ugh. The Phone is gonna take years off of my life.