Awake

I wanted you to know that I was awake as you slept.
I felt you move closer and hold me,
felt you unconsciously kiss my nose,
lost somewhere deep within a dream.

We are not lovers and we never have been.
And, likely, never will be.

But I was awake while you were sleeping.
And I wanted to tell you
that I liked lying awake
next to you.

 

Another older one I thought I’d bring to live here.

No Signal

Your lack of effort tells me more
Than your behavior when we’re near
Convenience and boredom have a funny way of acting like interest
And it leaves me frustrated and cold
When all I want’s a little warm

 

An old poem from I wanted to give a new home here on this blog.

Visual Survey of 2016

I saw this over on Gala Darling’s blog and fell in love with the idea! Back in my livejournal and deadjournal days I loved me a good survey. It’s been quite a while since I’ve had a go at one and this seemed like a fun way to look back on the year and set some visual intentions for 2017!

Here goes nothing…

2016 summarized in one picture…

nataliamm3Sleep No More – by Mert & Marcus with Natalia Vodianova

My biggest inspiration in 2016 was…

gala_home_2Gala Darling, for sure!

How I feel about the remainder of this month…

never_alone_11_1200Never Alone by Leta Sobierajski

My 2017 vibe…

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Color of Beats by Yanzhou Bao

How I feel about myself…

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Self Portrait by Rocio Montoya

How I feel about my love life…

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Image by Eric Rose

My career goals…

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Image found here.

How I want to dress on a daily basis…

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Eternally in love with Cindy van der Heyden’s style. Check her out at COTTDS.

When I’m feeling unsure, I’ll remember to channel this…

tumblr_mtt8eyhq001stddpqo1_500The Other by Tetsuharu Kubota with Shanina Shaik

I will spend more time with…

hr-prints
H&R by MizEnCen

How I’m going to roll into 2017…

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Photo found here. Think this, but a dash more hygge. Maybe even ending with a bath!

How I’m going to feel at the end of 2017…

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Chantal Claret by Nick Holmes

What did your 2016 look like? How do you want 2017 to look?

Til next time
Xsarah

Forgetting Sadness

In all the days I’ve forgotten to count
I let myself forget sadness,
though it would not be forgotten.

I tried to ignore it, pretended
it wasn’t sitting
in the same chair
in the same room,
that it had gone on vacation and
would never return.

I actively avoided it and pretended
we had never met
All because I was afraid of it,
Afraid of feeling it too fully.
I was afraid I would get lost inside of it,
loose myself in its labyrinthine corridors,
that I would never find my way out again.

I forgot that there is always a way out
That an entrance can also be an exit

And that nothing is scarier
than something

– 3/20/2016

It’s funny how things you don’t really deal with just circle around and around, staying close by, until you finally get it. Until you look them in the eyes and acknowledge their presence.

I can’t say I’ve fully gotten it now, but I recognize the importance again, still. It’s deepened.

I’ve been thinking about my reluctance to feel sadness. How not wanting to be sad anymore has gotten me to anesthetize my life, actively avoiding things (relationships, hey-o!) in order to reduce my chances of pain.

The last 5-6 years of my life most definitely. I never enjoyed sadness before, but I let it happen. I’d watch sad movies, let myself feel, and then move on to whatever came next. I haven’t intentionally watched a sad movie in years. I’ve been missing out on a lot of great experiences because of it.

I’m trying to slowly let sadness back in. Remind myself it doesn’t have to be all-consuming. It’s healthy. The flip side of the coin.

I know I’ve been cheating myself, hiding from it. I feel like a coward at times, but with this growing awareness I am also finding sympathy for the girl that needed to remove herself from the pain of losing and being lost. Of hurting and being hurt. It’s been a long journey.

I’m still shaky. But I am trying.

I even went on a date! I know, who am I?? Well, I’m no less awkward. Still struggling with the doubt monster, the self-sabotaging, the insecurity and – of course – fear of sadness.

Generally in life, I always imagine the worst case scenario – BAM – right out of the gate. In some ways, I think it helps to know what awfulness could be the total worst and then realize – ‘hell! that’s so unlikely!’ in order to move forward. I’ve also learned that, sometimes, things are much worse than even you, who is so good at imagining it, can imagine. I’ve always been a planner. I carry around a massive purse filled with just about everything I could ever need at a moments notice. Imagining the worst is like tucking away a tide-to-go stick into my mental purse. You expected this; now lets get that stain out.

I’ve already imagined the worst, post-date.

I feel oddly comforted that a friend had the exact same thought as me when we chatted about it. Made it seem less far-fetched. Made me feel a bit less ridiculous. It also, unfortunately, re-emphasized that it very well could be the truth of the situation. That it was only some sort of elaborate retribution or repayment. I hope very much I’m wrong. But, you see, I just can’t help but think, of the many threads that led me here, that lead us away from here, that could certainly be one.

It has me frozen again. I want reassurance. I want to give reassurance. I want to be patient; I want to act. I’ve skirted around sadness so long, it could be it’s chosen this to subtly remind me of its presence.

All I know for sure is, it’s time to stop being afraid. I need to let in pain, sadness, discomfort. I need to grow. I need to feel life fully.

And, step by step, that is exactly what I intend to do.

intentions

ruse to bruise
wrong to right
there is no blame
just a blunted point

 

Some thoughts I let play out on paper instead of in my head.

Not everyone’s intentions are good, but not everything we perceive to be is really there. Sometimes it’s just a projection of your own fear.

Jamming like a Killjoy

Shhh! Stop. You had me at, “We’re Killjoys.”

The one were D’av is about to get shot in the hip?

For those of you not currently on a SciFi kick (or bender, which is probably a little more honest), Killjoys is a television series about a group of bounty hunters in – you guessed it – outerspace. The Quad planetary system, to be more exact. Working for an organization called the RAC (Reclamation Apprehension Coalition), agents work outside of planetary politics, impartially collecting and fulfilling their warrants. RAC agents are to remain neutral during conflicts; their only allegiance is to the warrant. “the warrant is all” being their house word– I mean neato code and motto.

But, as things are wont to do, shit gets interesting. Well, more interesting. Continue reading

On Knowing Nothing

Said the nearly-30-year-old female

It’s weird. Since graduating from college in 2009, I have been very adamant, and very vocal, that I do not want to go back to school. Ever.

I firmly believe that as human-type non-cylon persons (I just started watching Battlestar Galactica! Cool!) we should strive to never stop learning. But actually going to school is distinctly different to me.

First of all. Oi with the expensiveness of it all! There is no possible way I (and many many many other human-types) can afford an education without taking out loans. Loans are a mythic beast of vast proportions. Their scaly wings mercilessly beat the stifling air above you, made so by their fiery, interest-laden breath. To fell such a creature takes years, and nearly all of your available income. To willingly chain this beast to you and your bank account is not for the weak of spirit or faint of heart. Which is why I have been the most reluctant of knights when considering continuing my education more formally.

Me, academically speaking. Or…financially, anyway.

Next, I’ve put in my time. While I did not attend preschool because, psh, I attended the legally required 13 years of elementary/high school and then elected to put in an extra 4 going to a private college. That’s a lot of learning. Mostly I went to college because it felt like the thing I had to do to be successful, but, truth be told, I had absolutely no f*cking idea what I wanted to learn to be successful at. (Certainly not how to avoid ending a sentence with a preposition. Sit on it!)

I decided studio art was the way to go because I enjoyed it enough and didn’t fully suck at it. But I wasn’t particularly great or skilled at it any of the studio disciplines. And yes, I was an art student at a private Catholic college. I know! What was I thinking?!

College was much more about learning to be social for me and to not get in my own way on the personal growth front. That was lovely! If it weren’t for college, I’d probably still cry with anxiety when told, “We’re going ice skating!” instead of thinking, “Okay, let’s give it a go!” Yes. Yes that really did happen. I am in a much better place now, thank you.

For years now, people have encouraged me to go back to school, take a few classes here and there, blah blah blah. I violently, and physically rejected each suggestion. “How dare they! Don’t they know that costs money?? Takes time? And would mean I’d actually have to have some idea of what I want to do with my life?! The nerve!”

But now, rounding that corner to the big 3-Oh, I think I finally know what it is I want to learn. I think I finally have an area of interest that will inspire me to, you know, apply myself and actually maybe even sort of learn something!

So, I’m going to go back to school. Not full-time, mind, but taking a few communications classes here and there to test the waters and discover how little I actually know. Fun!

It’s never too late to learn inside or outside a classroom. And yes, I did have take out a loan. And no, they wouldn’t approve it unless my mom co-signed (my life is a shambles!). And if this does turn out to be my calling I foresee many more loans in my future. You didn’t know I was also a gifted psychic, now did you?

So here’s to learning! It’s never a waste, even if it cost you near about $40,000 a year to learn how not to be a socially anxious ball of mess! Here’s to doing it on your own terms even if that means returning almost 7 years later after many a “hell no!” and “f*ck that!”

Is very very very hungry.

Time to go kick some academic ass!

Sarah