it was a beautiful letdown

And I'm looking through the glass
where the light bends at the cracks,
and I'm screaming at the top of my lungs,
pretending the echoes belong to someone...
someone I used to know.
- The Postal Service

I've never gone through something that I felt the need to emotionally deal with so single-handedly before. It's refreshing, but at the same time wholly terrifying. I want to talk about it, or rather scream, but there's no one really adequate to talk to about it because I don't want to hear what I'm doing wrong, I don't want to hear stop. I just want to scream. And as it seems, being an island unto myself is apparently the only way to scream uninhibited. I have also found talking to myself to be more effective than perhaps I would like.

Last night I convinced myself that God (in whom I don't completely believe) was going to wait a while to show me someone perfect, because He knows I deserve someone perfect and He doesn't want me to waste my time with people who aren't. Do you know how comforting I found that line of bullshit? Extremely. It's pretty clear to me that I'm completely losing it.

Bursting at the Seams

I remember he taught me what a Superman was,
because he thought my handwriting
demanded a jolt against the naïvete.
And I don't want to learn how to dougie.
The dullish bass of sex and sweat
makes me long for the rallying diabetic sweet
of a well-timed guitar chord.
The bass slowly vibrated me apart.
Faye wants this over with, but we forcefully go on.
Tomorrow I will realize the treasure hunt continues.
This woody drink is my shirt on the floor,
and in the morning I will be preposterous.
Soy un ejemplo triste.
My high high heels wobble derisively.
The bass in here is sickly sweet as I vibrate away.

________________________________________

This was an assignment for my poetry class, where each line has a goal/project, like "Modify a noun with an unlikely adjective", "Make a nonhuman object say or do something human (personification)", "Make a declarative assertion that sounds convincing but that finally makes no sense". So I took it line by line, project by project and made a poem. I thought it was interesting what finally came out.
And so I share.

the forgotten post-it

Maybe my life is a Bollywood movie. Maybe unbelievable bliss is followed by immeasurable pain. If this were a Bollywood movie, I would be Kajol. Only Kajol can be as graceless, tactless and goofy as me. And the male lead would be...? Well, I can't address that right now. But I know I would be Kajol. And the male lead would think I'm an idiot for a long time. Sigh. Now, for something completely different.

My life is a constant string of reminders, is what I've come to realize. Reminders on post-its, on my hand, in my planner, on scraps of paper, and worst of all, in the back of my head. I can keep track of all the other modes, but it's the reminders in the back of my head that always get lost. Which means that the reminder I'm most keeping track of right now is one that needs to be written down somewhere. I'll post it everywhere:  

Keep it together, Erin, and deal.

Fifteen Years Old and Not Counting

If one more person that I know personally that is my age (or younger!!) gets married before me, I'm going to have to throw a fit. Which means I'll probably have to throw a fit in the next week or so, because it seems like every week I'm finding out about another person getting married.

I could deal if it were just the lucky few, but it's not. It's like, fucking everyone. Either we're in the 50's, or I'm completely missing something. I just checked my calendar to be sure, so apparently it's the latter, that I'm missing something.

Are they misguided and doing things too early? Is this the new norm that I have yet to accept? Or am I just unlucky?

With the way things seem to go lately, I'm going to say probably all of the above, with particular emphasis on the whole "I'm unlucky" end of things.

I have friends in the exact same boat as me. EXACT SAME! Well, okay, just one friend, but she dated the same guy for even a bit longer than I did. And do you know how she's doing? Really well. She's still afraid of dating, but she's capable of flirting, messing around, whatever. You know what I'm capable of? Blushing like an idiot and/or consistently saying the wrong things.

I'm going to stop trying, and when somebody sees me for me, it'll be a good day.

Sunday Morning, Sun Is Shining

Oh my god. I did it. I planned an event and it went so smoothly. As I looked around yesterday at all the dads and their daughters, and my mom just taking pictures and people racing canoes and enjoying my dad's chili, I remembered They're all here because I invited them. They're all here because of me and suddenly I felt like I was king of the world.

It felt nice having people tell me I'm funny. Too often I let a specific three people in my life tell me what I am and what I am not. Everyone else thinks I'm funny and entertaining. Everyone else thinks I'm sweet and caring. So what are those three missing? Maybe they're specifically trying not to laugh when I crack a joke... frankly, it wouldn't be unlike them.

I'm excited to go home for midterm break. Not because it's home or because I have anything spectacular planned, but because it's just one more motion, one more thing I get to do.

I think I'm successfully moving forward. I realized it last night at dinner, when I suddenly became really excited for future Prim Rose mixers with ATO. It's about time. There are things in life that I just know I deserve, and I refuse to be denied.

Today, I am going to cook dinner for one of my best friends, watch movies, study for a test I actually think I can pass, and eat the gourmet cookies I baked for my parents. It's going to be a great Sunday.

Mental Breaks

^ Madrid

I'm happy for the cooler weather. Granted I'm not totally prepared for it, but I appreciate it all the same. It's like a slap in the face for monotony. At some point the cold, too, will become monotonous, but right now it's a beautiful break.

I'm currently thinking about Sid, 24/7. Sid is my newest character. My goal with him is to make him the kind of character I can use again and again, kind of like "Sid's Adventures". Sid is kind of an amalgam of a lot of people in my life. He is kind of cold and unsatisfied (but not for the lack of trying), and he is a dreamer to the nth degree. He drives a stick because he wants control of something. He likes to sit back and watch life happen around him, and he feels that if he interferes, he'll throw something off cosmically. Sid lives for his newest focus, anything that will draw his attention in a completely new direction for a time. I think he is married, and not particularly thrilled about his spouse, but it has already happened and it is a comfortable life, so why interfere? Why rock the boat? He is a joker, but no one ever seems to truly understand his humor, and more often than not people are offended by it. He lives for his moments alone. He likes to cook but never seems to expand his repertoire. He is in love with the past.

I'm making him a kind of sad character right now, but I don't intend for him to be pathetic, so this sketch doesn't really do him justice. It's not that he's sad, he's just placid.

I kind of wish I could write a character like Robert Langdon. Someone up for adventure. I need an adventure before I feel adventure-y, though. Hence, Spain.

Waiting

One day, I will write a poem about you.

I will write about your whatever hair

and your deep brown-blue-hazel-green-grey eyes.

I will write about how attractive I find you.

I will write about your toes,

because you’re the only one

whose toes I love.

I will boast about the good you are doing

in your whatever career.

I will tell my girlfriends

everything you secretly want me to say

but protest to all the same.

I will write about your hands.

We will travel.

We will visit places,

and we will take pictures

to show to all our friends

when we return home,

victorious.

We will read in bed,

and we will watch movies

until our eyes grow heavy

and we melt into each other.

We will listen carefully

and think even more carefully,

and then speak with utmost care.

We will pick out Christmas presents

like our lives are on the line:

a beautiful whatever

for your beautiful mother.

A Long Road

"You can go govern some other little fucker's life."

Things like this tear a hole in me. They remind me that I deserve to be surrounded by people who respect me and who love me, because I am an interesting and caring woman. They remind me how this painful chasm came to be in the first place, and at times I am grateful.

But they also make me wonder who I am, what I am. They make me question my very self. They make me wonder how I got here, in such a place where the people I hold dearest feel they can say these things without any repercussions.

I have a long way to go, but things like this remind me to keep walking.

A Modern Woman Hitting the Fork for the First Time

^ Chernobyl
I'm starting to feel my life and my thoughts pulled in two very different directions, and I guess that's what being a modern woman is. Here's why:

I keep thinking about love and romance, and will it find me? Or will I find it? And if it finds me, how will I know? And how do I go about looking for it on my own? I'm terrified, because I'm really only fifteen years old in the dating world. I'm still hoping that I don't have to dress in high, high heels and deep cleavage for the gentlemen of St. Louis's nightlife to see me; I'm hoping they'll just see that I'm silly and interesting and want to talk to me because of that, not because of some carnal, testosterone-driven interest. And it kills me that even in this mode of thinking I'm torn in two directions. I want to move on from the radioactive debris that is my most recent (and only) relationship, but I'm constantly pulled back to it. Yes, I want to get married and I want to have children. And I want to have what two of my friends have... six years of solid love. But I lost that, and it's time to move on.

The other half of the modern woman is, of course, her career, and with my romantic life on hold until I graduate and leave Kirksville, the career end of things is more or less taking over. I want to graduate... NOW. I want out. I've had enough of academic institutions and simply being the show-pony through a flaming hoop for them. I need to get into my career, which, ironically, is the same damn thing. (Is this not the world's worst viscous circle?) I want to teach for good things, and teach the right things, and I want to get out there and do it already!

But first... I want to travel. For once, I want to do what I want more than anything in the world. For once, I want to feel like I'm in control of something. I want to feel alive, because I feel like a walking corpse going to class every day.

I just want to feel something. Everyone else has a passion. Am I burying my passion(s)? Or are they gone? Why does everyone else feel and I just sit here?

Please Help Me!

All I've ever dreamed of was traveling, and with your help it could be possible! Please, even if you're a stranger, and even if it's just $.50, any little bit will help! My plans are to tour Europe when I graduate college. Please help, it will be much appreciated!