How far (Holding on to something that isn't there)

Questions seem to be what continue running through your head whenever you're trying to escape.  Escape the fact you have NO answers to them.

Why is it that when you close your eyes, in attempt to concentrate on change, nothing does?  And when you open those same eyes, everything is passing?  Except your own thoughts.

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How far would you dare to go
Before you realized you could not swim?

How fast would you tread
Knowing the waves would not stop pushing?

Would that even matter?
If the place you wanted to go was below?

Underneath the surface of your own
Being?  Trapped, screaming with inflamed lungs

Witnessing no panic
But glimmering eyes of passed sadness

Could you take in every bit of your hoped for life?
 As you sensed the frigid shock of water crashing?

Stop in mid shiver to wonder about the deep?
Forget ALL and greet the unknown?

How far would you dare to go
Before you realized you never needed to swim?

Just fall and let go
Of everything that weighed you down, above

Open your eyes, heart and lungs to
A world with NO plagued memories

Just a clean path
Far beneath the surface

Self Faith (short story)

Sitting here with a belt around my neck . . . Not figuratively.  But literally.  Listening to songs that put me in a mood that should not cause pain.  But forge thoughts of them.
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She sat there, with her belt tightly gripping her throat.  Waiting:  for the impact of its snap; or the squeeze of her shaking hand.  She needed to feel something, so she tested her strength, tugging to one side the leather belt loop.  She fastened the buckle and sat back.  Pacing her breaths.  Looking at the door hook, and concentrating.  "There were options . . . " she wondered.  But even she couldn't believe her own thoughts anymore.  It was better for all options to lead to one outcome:  peace.  Jumping from atop the highest point she could reach:  another choice.  There, she would float, gently above, as she waited to come back down.  Down to her new world.

Confused Much?

Sometimes we are at the top of our game -- riding these amazing adventures, and not looking down.  Other times, we are just trying to grab onto something.  Anything.  But we just can't.

It is as though we feel we aren't good enough.  Not worthy enough to make ourselves happy.  Or possibly not good enough to take in that happiness.  I know many people who feel that way.  Heck, I do, on some occasions.  And many of my past posts have been an indication of that.

But still, we keep going.  Some of us.  We keep pressing on.  Because we don't REALLY want to give up.  To not reach our potential.  Yet, those moments when nothing seems feasible, we think we can't.  Can't make it.  Can't survive what we've just gone through, or constantly been enduring.

To those people:  (as "Hallmark" as it sounds) you have to keep going.  And I know this contradicts my own thoughts.  Especially when they continue to change.  One moment I'm happy.  Thrilled to be here.  Other times?  I feel as though EVERYTHING is coming down, crashing all around me.  I don't want to be a burden with my words.  This is MY blog, so, I just thought I'd describe myself.

It's confusing.  I know.  These moments confuse me too.  Just earlier, I was happy, smiling and thinking of the future.  And then . . . out of nowhere, something clicked.  Like an autopilot switch.  One that constantly is in between, but more so on the off position.

You become entranced in thoughts.  But those thoughts are blank.  Weird, eh?  Blank thoughts, which then turn into memories.  Ones that are in fact actually you -- in that moment -- in that space -- as though time were standing still, and you were just observing.  But it's not an observation.  It's you.  It's me.

We are the same.  We are what forces one another to not give in to our forced wants.  Because quick fixes are indeed not the solution.  We are the same.  Pushing one to fight until we cannot stand to go any further.

And then -- click.  We're back in the same situation.

Glue

It's another Friday, and I'm sitting inside my room.  Nice weather.  It's mid afternoon.  And the blinds remain closed.  I want to travel outside, and feel the air.  But instead, I sit here, beside my three fans.  And let the modified breeze take over.  I don't think of things to do -- fun, exciting, young adult, or 20 something things to do -- because that's just not who I am.  Although, I could be wrong.  I could be that person, wanting to dance the night away.  Going for a drink in a sports bar, while cheering on my favorite team.  I don't know . . . I never really knew, because I let myself stay in too much.  I've become accustomed to taking chances, professionally, and educationally -- more so than personally.  Not that I think of myself as afraid to try.  Just afraid of failure.  And what's to be afraid of, anyway?  

Each day continues to play out the same way.  And I'm drained each morning, thinking of the never changing cycle.  At times though, my focus changes, but not on the positive.  Not on going out and trying something new.  No, instead, my focus switches to daydreaming about a new life.  A new journey.  One that's not on this earth.  You see, I can force myself to think ahead -- way  ahead -- as if nothing matters.  But that's only when EVERYTHING matters.  And when everything is drowning me.  

I'm stuck.  I'm at the point in my life where either I should be out exploring (especially in the city I live in), and having fun.  But I can't.  I don't know why.  I don't understand how I can feel the need for a change, but just can't do it.  

I work hard.  I stay focused.  Big deal -- most people do.  And I put extreme amounts of perfectionist pressure on myself.  Big deal -- again, most people do.  I've had the same mentality of never feeling good enough, ever since I was young.  That, I know, will never go away.  So, I push it aside, not thinking about it, and stay focused.  I continue working hard, never letting myself think of what I could be doing.

And then I take a break -- because someone says, "relax, you've been working too hard.  You need sleep, or to just get away from what you're doing for a little while.  Then go back to it."  So I take their advice, and breathe.  But that's when I feel my throat closing.  When I feel I'm losing control.  Each time I take a break, I'm never really relaxed.  I remain focused on what still hasn't been done.  What needs to be accomplished.  What I haven't gotten right.  And what I know I messed up on.  I can't take the break.

The only break, which comes from me, hyperventilating, is what sends me to cringe.  I break.  This isn't something new.  Or fascinating.  Most people reach their boiling point.  And I do the same.  I control it, to the point nobody knows.  So that I can't make them worry.  You see, I worry about other people reacting to what I'm doing.  

Perfectionist.  That's me.  Always wanting the best -- especially for others.  And when I feel pressure piling up, I hide it.  "No worries," I tell people, who ask how I'm doing.  "Everything's great," I push out of my typing, to those who send me a message to check in.  I don't like speaking on what I'm going through.  Unless it's positive.  Not that I don't think people would want to know, and help.  But, I've always found it difficult to ask for that.  To proclaim I cannot do something.  That I'm not adequate enough.  Even when I do think that, most times -- I can't say it to someone else.  

And as the time continues to change, I continue to sit.  In the same spot I was when I woke up.  I'm taking a break.  A mental break.  And one I'm too familiar with, which breaks me even more.  

It's not every day.  But most days, when I feel drained.  Yet I keep going.  But in the back of my mind, I know I want to stop.  Stop it all.  So, I pretend (to myself) I'm alright.  My self knows better, but it goes with it, anyhow.  On those days, when all I can see is taking another route -- a one way journey, I force myself to continue.  

I don't know how long I'll be able to keep it up.  But for now, I'm still trying.  And although my mind drifts back and forth, between being up and down, I remain upbeat for those I love.  Even when at times, I can't feel the same towards myself.  I'm stuck.  Wanting to get away from it all, on most days.  And feeling nothing, on others.  

I'll take this break, and then I'll get back to being focused.  I need this break, and yet when I'm on it, I'm not really.  But, I'll try and keep going.  I'll try, because I know I'm working towards something I want.  And the perfectionist side of me, won't stop until I make it.  So, I have to make it.  I have to force myself to NOT break.  

Because if I do, I'll never get to feel the real breeze.   

Nathan Bransford, Author: How to Know You're a Writer (In GIF Form)

Nathan Bransford, Author: How to Know You're a Writer (In GIF Form): Any time you're not writing your novel you're still thinking about your novel: When people ask you for your thoughts on their...

Just Do It . . .

You can sit inside a coffee shop -- where you're going to begin to reek of coffee beans.  You can constantly make lists -- which slowly get checked off.  Or, you can just get back to work.  Now, I'm not totally speaking of procrastination.  I'm talking about that little urge one gets when they're half focused and half perturbed at not being completely there.  I'm talking about the minute when you're working on something and then you lose your work, before hitting SAVE.  I'm discussing the moment when your deadline hits and it's already the next day.  Nike has a motto for continuance.  Right?  Well, that crap doesn't always work.  "Just do it . . ."  That only works when complete concentration is there.  It only works when you want it badly.

Getting work done, means putting in the work.  It means sucking it up, and just doing it.  When your recording a song, it means -- take after take, keep going until it's where it needs to be.  If you're working on a blog post (hey there), it means to continue writing until you hit, "publish," and you're fine with the outcome.  Although for some of us writers, you're never really all that happy with the outcome -- not entirely.  And lastly, for those of us that write larger pieces -- it's about starting, no matter how early or late, and continuing until you feel that click inside -- that part that says, YOU'VE GOT IT . . . KEEP GOING.  When you make it to that moment, that's when no time frame, no smell of coffee beans, and no abundantly insane lists make you cringe.  That's when you know you can do it.  That's when Nike makes a valid point.  That's the moment in where you can't think of anything else, but to keep writing.  And you do.  You Just Do It.

This . . . this is why I LOVE Mariska!

Watch the video below, and you'll see yet another reason why I LOVE Mariska Hargitay!

Stopping to save lives?

So, what happened to me today? 

I guess there is a reason behind being in the right place at the right time.  Less than one hour ago (around 6:45pm or 7:00pm), while biking back -- taking my normal route -- I spotted something strange happening.  No, the immovable traffic was not that . . .  Well, not entirely.  No, I witnessed stopped traffic, because there was a guy behind the wheel of a KIA, trying to go onto the freeway, from the exit ramp.  Yes, bizarre, I know.  But that wasn't the weirdest part.  The most surreal part was, get this, no one wanted to help.  Instead, everyone's first reaction was to just blow their horns and proceed to scream at the unaware, elderly gentleman.

Not me, however -- I didn't know it before my bike trip, but I guess I was ready for anything.  I jumped off my bike, once I crossed the intersection -- and walked up to the mans car.  Fortunately his passenger window was slightly down, so I could get my words to him.  I stayed with him, trying to calm him down.  He didn't have to show it, but I knew he had to be terrified:  everyone staring at him, mostly because he was going onto ongoing exit ramp freeway traffic, but also because this was out of the norm.  I spoke ever so gently, trying to ease his mind.  While also keeping an eye on the cars that were unsure what was going on.  I asked questions, just as if my American Red Cross training kicked in -- just in time.  Yes, I knew how to check if someone was incoherent, and no, just because he was trying to enter an exit ramp, did not justify my assessment.  I continued to ask him question after question.  I made sure to assure the other drivers that I was doing something to hopefully prevent him from crashing into ANYONE. 

Well, lets just say the questions were answered in a round-about way, where everything was done with a "yes," and head nod.  Obviously he wasn't okay.  And neither was the situation.  Even some of the stopped traffic goers -- the non douchebag ones (who yelled at the guy, and myself) offered and did call the Police.  I called too.  Hey, the more officers, the better.  Because I had been there for such a long time, I guess people began to think I was part of the situation.  And partially that was correct.  I was trying to prevent any harmful ordeal. 

After about 10 minutes of getting the elderly gentleman to look at me, and stop his car -- leading into him putting his car back in drive and inching up ever so frighteningly, I had had enough of my own bartering.  I had to make a defensive choice.  And this was completely imposing to him -- but I had to enter his vehicle (good thing it was unlocked) without his permission.  I had asked him to either put his car in Reverse, or Park -- but with his mental state, he'd just go back into Drive every few moments.

So, I asked one more time, and then I just went in.  I opened his door, realized his car was an Automatic -- I quickly put his car in Park and took his keys out of the ignition.  After that, I knew it would be okay -- for the other cars.  But for him, I was still unsure.  Officer Baldwin of the FHPD arrived on the scene in a good amount of time, and that's when I could release my first breath of fresh air.  A trained person had shown up.  Officer Baldwin came over, and I told him what happened (what I just told you guys), and then I gave him the keys.  He told me what I wasn't even thinking at that moment:  that I might have saved someones life.  Especially since it looked as if nobody else wanted to step up and do the right thing.  That by comforting the elderly man, and quickly taking action, I made sure no damage occurred. 

I didn't leave once the officer arrived.  I made sure to stay with the gentleman until the combined Fire Rescue and Ambulance showed up.  And even after that, I waited with him, right up until they loaded him onto a stretcher and into the EMS.  If he didn't think he had anyone, he had me. 

Gawkers . . . It amazes me how many times we see gawkers and get mad that they're holding up the flow of traffic, yet we never think about why it's happening.  Or whether the people halting the traffic are trying to make a difference . . . It's just fascinating.  Don't you think? 

On the way back from biking another 12 miles . . . I was just in the right place at the right time. 

I guess that's the good thing about taking a bike, instead of a car . . .

Goodbye

**Disclaimer:  This is strictly a poem.  In this moment, it is just words that need to be said . . . **

I need to scream
I don't know my wants
Maybe I want to leave . . .
Maybe I want to suffer . . .
Whatever it is, I want to do it alone

I have to get out
Before I strangle my only positive voice into submission
Force myself to give into my own demise
Just to get away from those who try and break me

I won't let them do it --
It's my life

If I want to escape, I shall
It's only when . . . 
When my melancholy dredges up, and I have only one option . . .

GOODBYE

Inspiration comes from Dedication

Wow, I can honestly say, this Act II revision is going insane.  And definitely in a good way.  I am scraping so many of my original material, and starting fresh -- just in time to hit SEND and submit my very last assignment for my Third MFA semester.  I have been given such a huge push of motivation, after hearing of my Mentor's Writing Binge.  I'm guessing that's the way I'm going to attack my Fall Residency manuscripts -- which are soon approaching.  Two new files to send, and then it's back to reading hundreds and hundreds of pages of scripts, prose and whatnot.  AWESOME.  I'm beyond stoked.  In exactly five weeks I'll be on another adventure.  One that I've been waiting for, for such a long time.  Now, back to work.  Because I get my cues from my Mentor -- I'm only taking this short break, and then it's back to finishing this assignment, even stronger than I started!

Pushing the Pedal(s)

Another day of Insanity.  Another day with a new-ish workout regiment, including supplements.  And another day of pushing myself to the limit, by including way more cardio than I should have ever thought of doing.  Not that I can't get it done.  But, after already doing one hour of Insanity and extra exercises that I've created, I decide to go for a 15 mile bike ride.  Granted the morning workouts give me so much needed energy to get through the day -- biking in heat with the sun baring down on me . . . Not the smartest thing to do.  Still, I feel great.  That is until I reach those HILLS.  The capitalization is what I feel when I lay eyes on them:  the death incline.  :-o  It's as if I begin to lose my energy just by glancing at the steepness.  At points I sit up higher, and push down even harder on the pedals.  Going.  Moving.  Getting a distance.  But then something happens.  I realize the wind is beginning to blow -- right at me.  So, I push harder.  Until I feel my tendons arguing with me.  Yes, my muscles talk.  Maybe I should listen?  :-p

I continue, but at a different pace.  I decide to move one pedal at a time.  This time, not overly exerting myself.  Yet in the process, I have absolutely NO speed, therefore I am almost at the point of going backwards down the incline.  So instead of making the partial trek almost unbearable, I just get off and walk the half way uphill, until I reach the top.  And after I get there, it's downhill AWESOMENESS.  That is, until I get to a driveway or blind spot area, where I know I'll have to quickly slow down, losing my speed, cut my thrill, and STOP.  Hoping my brakes get the memo, and do just that.  15 miles to accomplish, and I know on the way back, it's another set of hills.  And maybe even more sun.  Maybe I should have opted to just bike to the gym and do indoor cycling.  But there's just something about being out on the open road (minus the cars), iPod of bikeable tunes, and a clear mind.  There's something about losing yourself in the knowledge that you're just going for a ride.  Even if you've traveled that same path many times before, there's still a possibility of something new.  And who knows, you might just discover a new path.

So, you keep going.  Letting the road, wind, and music take you where you feel like going.  And after those 15 miles and early morning workouts, you feel like going, once more.

Out with the Old

I guess my high school reunion is going to be happening soon . . . Well, relatively soon, as in a few years.  I use to be under the impression one was to think about going to these things.  Like we were all waiting to see one another and catch up.  However, because of multiple social networking sites, there's really no need to go to one.  Granted it's a personal and face-to-face connection versus online communication -- still, hasn't one learned enough from the people they are waiting to meet up with?  Older people use to speak of how they hadn't seen their classmates for over 10+ years and how excited they were to be in the same room, again.  And that got me thinking:  Do I really want to waste my time being there?  Not that I wouldn't gain anything from attending.  I'm sure if I worked hard at trying, I could get something out of being there.  But unfortunately, there are no mysteries of reuniting with people whom you already know most things about.  Again, not that I'm saying everyone discusses EVERYTHING about themselves, and then posts that online -- but the majority of people who might attend, you've already been filled in with their life journey:  children, married, married with children, school, working, graduating, getting close to graduating, etc.  There aren't really that many other options, besides the human inevitable; ceasing to exist.

Welp, I guess that's my venting for now.  I'm going to go ahead and retreat from this blog, and get back to what I need to focus on:  Revisions and Submissions.  Oh, and hitting SEND.  I promise that in  the next blog, I'll be more forgiving . . .  :-p

Happy for Jinkx

I just had to post a video I found on YouTube, pertaining to my favorite Drag Superstar (besides RuPaul), whom just recently took the title of the newest Drag Superstar from RuPaul's Drag Race.  I have been a fan of Jinkx Monsoon's for so long, so watching these videos (I'm only including one -- go watch the others too :-p) gave me another reason to smile for her win!  Yay, Jinkx!  :-)

Where'd that come from?

I've been doing Insanity for a few weeks now, and I can honestly say I'm seeing results. Not only have I become even more energetic (if that is at all possible), but I've also realized bruising on my arms (I don't like tanning, so it's extremely noticeable). Now, with the inclusion of my newest workout, diet and overall fitness changes, I'm a bit confused as to how these bruises are forming, especially when I don't feel them . . . I MUST figure this out, before my arm turns into one giant red bruise.

Insanity and Hills

Today was another day of Insanity, and whoa, it's beyond intense! I'll elaborate further, but since I'm also coming back from the craziness of the outdoors: biking for 5+ miles in a rain/snow (yes, there was sleet) mixture, I'm going to refuel on some nutrients and H2O.

Speak soon.

Insanity, it's just that . . .

Shaun T.  is putting me through the wire with "Insanity."  Not that I wasn't aware of the craziness before I began the program, but, WOW.  I'm only a few days in and I can totally see how much this is kicking my butt.  I'm looking forward to completing the 60 days, especially since I changed my already Vegetarian diet, to a more intense one.  Let's just say I was happy with just eating Tofu, Tempeh, and Soy based food, and mostly once or twice a day was my food intake.  But now, I have to consume 5 meals a day.  Needless to say, this is bizarre for me.  I don't really enjoy food to begin with.  But because of the results I want to attain, I MUST eat.  Boo.  I guess it's not going to be easy (besides the fact it's called "Insanity.") 

Don't worry, I'll be posting short messages about what is going on.  Not all posts will be about "Insanity," but this week most will be.  Counting down the days until my final full Residency, which leads into my final full semester of MFA life -- which I've also managed to lump with this insane program.  I cannot wait for the moment where I can be where I need to be.  Progress, eh?  It's still happening. 

NEED YOU NOW (How Many Times) by Plumb (official lyric video)

After all the events that have transpired through the week, this song (below) seems right.

Unreal Connections

Have you ever met someone that you wished you could be close to?  Nothing too intimate -- just great friends?  Or better yet, have you ever become friends with someone you never in your mind imagined forming a connection with?  It's amazing how many great buddies you can make when you stop focusing on what you think you already know.  When you realize closed minded characteristics are what can cause a possibly good thing from happening.

Through my many travels, here and there -- mostly there, I've had many encounters with new faces, and by giving those people a chance, was able to form new friendships.  The strangely frightening moment of meeting someone new is when you're standing within distance of them and you feel the urge to make conversation, but have no idea as to what to say.  I mean, is there a commonality?  You know, besides you both being in the same place at the same time?

In the Midst of Two Homes

**Picture taken from the "Down with Detroit" Facebook page.**

Words in Time . . .