Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Sometimes I stare at my ceiling...

I have a tendency to wake up at odd hours. I will not lie - it drives me up a wall. Lately, I've been so tired at night that I actually sleep almost the whole night. Usually, though , I wake up at three or so in the morning and am unable to go back to sleep. At those times, I stare at my ceiling.


While staring at my ceiling, I think about the weirdest things. Like if there is anyone up at three in the morning thinking about me, or if there is someone across the universe thinking about someone being up at whatever time they are up. You know, the hopelessly romantic thought of "Is there someone up at the same time as me thinking about me, either conciously or subconciously, by name or just out of loneliness, the way I am thinking of them?" This is probably not the best way to get back to sleep, but you have to admit that it is an interesting concept. And hopelessly romantic situations give me the best story plots, anyway.


How many star crossed lovers are out there, thinking about each other without knowing each other? It's hard to explain, but there is someone for everyone and even if you haven't met them yet, you think about them. And they think about you. I just know it.


And sometimes, as I lay there on my bed, staring at my ceiling, thinking of my other half, wherever and whoever he may be, I think - why am I doing this? It makes no sense. Dwelling on the unknown is the fastest way to get into trouble, but it's also what makes us all human. It's the human condition. Hmm... Maybe I should do a post about that...


Sometimes, I wish the ceiling held all the answers. Like, is there someone thinking about me at three in the morning? But the ceiling is silent. And in the deafing silence, I eventually roll over and drift back into sleep, the questions of life still bounding through my mind...


And then I wake up and write down what I feel and have extra material for my stories. So I guess it all works out. Right?


Right.

Have a nice day, cyberland. Future blogs will be less mushy, I promise.

Monday, September 29, 2008

At the rate I ramble...

I should be able to go for hours at a time. Geez. I post way a lot on here. But I have so much random crap that I feel like talking about. I guess that since I'm a writer, that's normal - I'm always writing. Lately, the juices seem to be flowing better at the computer than in my notebooks. Not sure why that is - maybe it's easier to erase on the computer?

I love writing. I love the freedom it gives me, the way I can say what I want and mean to without being on the fly. I love how my voice sounds amazingly important (at least me it does!) in writing, more so than when I'm talking out loud. As I've said in one of my posts, somethings sound stupid when voiced aloud, but they sound valid when typed.

Right now, I should be in bed, but instead I'm up writing. The words are flowing from my fingertips like water from a fountain, the ideas coming so fast that my head feels as though it could burst. And my computer, which I could have sworn was going to crash earlier this evening, is going along with it.

Maybe I will write a book someday. Goodness knows I have enough to say that I could fill a 600 page novel. Or maybe I will go into journalism, traveling the world and reporting what I see to the people at home. Or maybe - okay, let's screw the maybe's. Life is too short to dwell upon them and their cousins the what if's.

No. Actually, I think I will go to bed now, even though I am sure to have odd dreams and restless sleep.

Goodnight, Cyberland. Enjoy the double blog, for I am going to be so busy tomorrow I will not have time to post.

And I stood there...

Hi again, my cyberland buddies! Today's blog is another very different type of blog. Today, I am actually sharing my creative writing. That's right - the stuff I never let people read, I'm letting you all read. Mainly cause I want to finally get some publicity. My only request is this: do not judge. My writing is always a little on the morbid side, a little dark, a little down or depressed. That's the only way I can get those awful feelings out of myself - I kill characters in the most awful situations and write poetry about death. I give my characters serious issues; anorexia, suicide, depression, loneliness, drug addictions, various vices and habits. That's just how I am.

If you don't like it, don't read it. You have been warned.

And Dereck dreamed.

Colors vivid and yet blurred, flowing and bleeding into each other like icy waves crashing and melting against the hot, grainy beach - violent red, like garnet blood dripping from an open wound; forlorn black, like the moonless, starless night. A chill filled Dereck's mind as the colors swirled around him, goosebumps raising upon his arms. Amid the colors a whisper, quiet as the end of the world yet as loud as a scream, filled the cold air. It said nothing but the messge was perfectly clear.

Dereck awoke on the floor with a jolt, sweat dripping of him as if he had run in the pouring rain, his skin as white as bone in the pale, silvery moonlight that poured into the room, bathing him in it's lonely light. Struggling to breathe, Dereck blinked and looked around the bare room. The smell of cigarettes still lingered in the stuffy air, the remains of the drugs still scattered on the table. On the floor next to him was Brie, breathing softly, her face peaceful in sleep as her black hair fanned around her frail, petite frame. The sight of her made it all the more unbearable.

Slowly, Dereck touched Brie's face, her skin like porcelain beneath his fevered hand. She sighed in her sleep, as if answering some unheard question, and rolled onto her side, trying to get closer even in sleep, like she knew in some deep part of herself the very thing Dereck knew.

And it was too much. Overcome with the bittersweetness of the whole situation, consumed with love for Brie and sorrow for the future, knowing the future would most likely never come, Dereck leaned into Brie's hair, trying to remember her sweet scent forever, hot tears like crystals washing his face and her hair, the dream still haunting him.

Death was coming for him. And there was nothing he could do.



Well, there it is. These are two of my absolute favorite characters that have come out on paper. One, Dereck, is a druggie. The other, Brie, is anorexic. I have no experience with either condition, but that's just how they developed. When characters come out, they seriously have there own personalities and you can't change them. You can watch them develope, you can guide them along the way, but you can't tell them to change. These two characters honestly feel like my children - when I write about them, I seriously feel like a mother.

The funny thing about Dereck and Brie is that they met by chance. Brie worked at a bookstore and one day, I guess the planets aligned correctly or something, because "poof!" - they literally ran into each other. Seriously. Books went flying. It was great.

Another funny thing is the Brie spells her name. She doesn't like eating, yet she's named after a type of cheese that goes great on crackers and fruit. Go figure.

How will the tragic story of Brie and Dereck end? I have an idea, but it's bound to change somewhere down the road. Until then, I just have to keep writing.

Oh. And if you steal my wonderful characters, bad things will happen. I will personally come after you. So leave them alone.

Later.

Sunday, September 28, 2008

And now I know I'm tired...

Some days, it just feels hard to keep it all together. Now, I know that it sounds like a depressing start to a blog entry, but life is interesting like that. The issue on my mind is that of college, yet again.

It seems that it still feels like a frightfully heavy weight, college and change. Kansas is plain - beautiful, but plain. I'm from the midwest originally, so I mean that in an affectionate way. And if I never fit in out there, I can come home. I seem to have forgotten that yesterday or this week. Home will always be open for me.

I think my main problem is that I over analyze everything. And I do mean everything. College and relationships seem to be the big things I tear to shreds in my mind. Oh, and myself. I am constantly self-doubting myself or tearing myself - I literally am my biggest critic. There are days that I am able to stand back from the analyzing and see things for what they are, and at those times I feel better. But it's a hard thing. It is very hard to be able to trust that everything in life is going to work out and that what's going to happen will happen.

I feel like the guy in "Fiddler on the Roof" - he's constantly talking with God and trying to get answers to what is going on in his life. That's me. "Dear God, it's me, Meaghan..." type of thing.

And questions. A gazillion questions that I have no answers for. Questions like: "Will I be okay in college?"; "Everyone else has someone - when will I?"; and "Why?"

Really dumb questions. Come to think of it, maybe that's why God doesn't answer me. My questions are all really shallow. At least, that's how it sounds.

But then I get to the questions like: "What am I going to do with this life and why am I here?"; "I'm still alive, so what purpose do I have?"; and "Am I strong enough to handle this?"

And sometimes I just plead with God. Or beg or wish or whatever you want to call it. Things like "Please keep my dad employed and my family safe"; "Please don't let the boy I love die when he becomes a cop"; and "Please help me through it all".

How is it that a blog about college became a blog about God? That must be a sign that I am tired. Which means I should go to bed.

Good night, cyberland, and may God bless you.

Saturday, September 27, 2008

Oh my God, I feel so odd...

Hi everyone on cyberspace!! It is I, Birdgirl90. Sorry it's been so long since I've up dated, I've had an incredibly busy week. Homecoming was amazing - my date was wonderful and I had a great time. It just took a lot of my time and energy to get prepped for it. I know, I know - it's not an excuse. Humor me.

Plus the girl I share shifts with gave notice, so soon I will be having even less time because I'm going to have to work all her shifts as well as my own until they hire someone to take her place.

And to top it all off, I got accepted to the college of my choice and am going to have to be making some decisions in the next week or two. Let me tell you - I don't know why, but I am almost dreading that. Very hard to explain, but I think it must have something to do with the fact that college means leaving, and leaving is hard, as is all change, especially one as drastic as school. I know I should feel relieved. I mean, I got accepted afterall - that should be enough to make me want to do cart wheels. I don't know. I think I just got really attatched to the people here, and I'm not sure I want to leave them...

But enough. I am strong. I will deal with it.

So what am I doing today? I am sitting at my computer, listening to online radio and typing my heart out. And you apparently have nothing better to do, as you are here reading my heart's confessions. Yes, this is a different type of post compared to everything else I've done. Before, I always tried to be slightly personal, but not to the degree of you actually feeling as if you know me. Today, I just have to voice everything I'm feeling regardless of how it sounds. My apologies - if you don't like it, leave my blog.

I thought that going to Kansas for school would be a really great idea. I didn't have to write an essay for the school I got into, and it's the perfect sized campus for me; I didn't think about anything else when I applied. I know no one in Kansas and no one I know here in Colorado are planning on going there. I'm such a small grain of sand in the scheme of things - there is no guarentee that I am going to fit in or make friends or be able to manage myself. To tell the truth, when I got my acceptance letter, I got so scared that I wanted to cry. I still feel like that, but I can't go back now.

I would voice these thoughts out loud to my friends or family, but when I say the words out loud, they sound so stupid that I want to shake myself. I know everyone gets anxiety, but I thought I was getting above and beyond it. So I tell myself again and again that it will all be okay, that everything will work itself out and that I need to stop worrying.

And then there was homecoming this week. My date, as said before, was amazing. He wore a suit and tie, and brought me a corsage. He opened the car door for me (a first for me, and I enjoyed it immensly) and the doors at dinner and the dance for me, and was basically a perfect gentleman. I tried so hard to not be nervous, as he is one of my best friends, but that was nearly impossible. I had a wonderful time, though - we went with my sister and her date and just had a lot of fun.

Today, the day after, I got copies of the pictures my mom took before we left last night. He looks so handsome in the pictures that it just makes me melt. I look at myself, though, and internally cringe. I have some nice features, such as my face, but the camera really does add ten pounds or whatever. Again, things I would talk about out loud but they seriously sound stupid when said out loud. I know that I am a pretty individual, maybe not so much on the outside, but inside I know I'm a pretty good person. And I know I looked pretty last night. I just also feel self concious about my weight, even though it does not matter to anyone I know.

The picture, however, is in one of my writing notebooks with a paperclip, and I have no intention of removing it. I'm also planning on drying my corsage so that I can keep it forever. No matter what happens (we have no idea if we are dating or just friends or what...), I will remember last night for as long as I am here.

And now that I've got all that off my chest, I feel as though I can breathe again. Maybe I'll start taking my own advice and let things go. Thanks for listening.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Homecoming

I got asked to a homecoming dance by a guy who is not only one of my best friends, but also a guy I have liked for a while now.

I am on cloud nine. And when he asked, he said he had been thinking about it for a while. He was straight to the point and I said yes and now I am bouncing off the walls.

I'll write later, after I get myself calmed down.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Stress and Nightmares (or the "I really wish other people were up at three in the morning" blog)

I will admit it - I get seriously stressed at times. It's very easy to do; it's easy to let our problems run away with us. I believe stress is something that everyone deals with at some point or another. The interesting thing is how everyone seems to deal with it differently.

For me, stress makes itself clear in sleep. I start to have nightmares and as I become more and more stressed out, the nightmares become more and more weird or vivid until I am actually holding conversations with my sister in my sleep. Or I wake up at odd hours and can't shut my mind down enough to get back to sleep, which is just as bad. It's at times like these that I find myself wishing that there were other people up that I could talk to.

Nightmares are no fun. I honestly can't remember the last time I had a good night's sleep. That's really sad, if I do say so myself. The nightmares that bother me the most are the ones about my loved ones, where everything is going wrong and there's nothing I can do, and I wake up crying at three in the morning. Those are the worst. The second worst are the ones that make absolutely no sense, but that are so vague and weird that you wake up exhausted from them.

The funny thing is, I am not concious a lot of the time about the stress I am carrying around. It just comes, like so many other things, subconciously. However, there are times that I am very aware of the stress I carry. Like this week, for instance - I have been freaking out about whether or not I am going to get accepted to the college of my choice or if, once I get there, it's going to devour me. I've been worried about the ACT test, my job, one of my relationships, the fact that I'm going clothes shopping on Saturday, and the decision I made today to apply to another college.

And the worry eats at you like a cancer, and the stress gives you headaches and nightmares, and it becomes a cycle. A horrible, vicious cycle.

The funny thing about all of it is that I know things will work out. They always do. Even if I end up at the wrong school, I can always transfer out. Even if my relationship never changes and I never date until I'm in my twenties, I at least have a really good friend. Even if I lose my job, at least I can say I did my best. And even if I have a meltdown, I will always have a good support system.

I just have to keep reminding myself of those things, and everything else will fall into place.

Friday, September 12, 2008

A Song I Found

I recently discovered a new song. I saw it initially on the Post Secret website (www.postsecret.com - one of the best sites I've visited. I love the concept behind Frank's thinking...), and I listened to it on youtube. It's called The Chorus by a group named Donora. I personally can not wait until they really take off, as I love what I have heard from them. I just want to post the lyrics here; they mean a lot to me, and you can interpret them as you would like. To hear the song, go to youtube or www.donoramusic.com .


The Chorus by Donora

It's alright if you cry, cover your eyes
It's ok if you scream like a girl
I won't tell anyone if you promise the same
Cause I'm scared of the whole world
It's alright if you sigh, put your head next to mine
It's ok if you curl up in a ball
Cause I might give it a try and end in the same
Condition after all
(It goes)
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,
Is it alright if I'm sad and feeling let down
Is it ok if I'm not myself again
Will you love me the same if I promise to breathe
And count from 1 to 10
Is it alright if I lose track of the world
Is it ok if I hide from the unknown
Will you tell me again the story about
How I'm not alone
(It goes)
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Walk away from the life you want
And sing the chorus of the broken hearted
Walk away from the life you want
And sing the chorus of the broken hearted
I think there is a lot of meaning in this song, and that we can all relate to parts of it. If you like it, I highly recommend watching the Post Secret video.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

The "Duh" Factor

Ever have one of those moments when everything becomes painfully clear as to how you could have handled something or said something better or made a better decision? I seem to be having those a lot lately and have dubbed them my "Duh" moments.

Typically, "Duh" moments or the "Duh" factor leaves me feeling very irritated with myself or with a knot in my gut. My mind gets wrapped around various things that start with "If I had only done..." or "Maybe if I had been..". And, of course, the best one of all - "Why did I not see that???"

I like to think of myself as a fairly bright individual, with the ability to tell right from wrong and that sort of thing. However, it seems that when it comes to common sense, I seem to be lacking. I think I just must not pay enough attention to life or something, because I can look back on it later and everything is crystal clear.

But isn't that how life is? I mean, it's really hard to see clearly the choices we make in the present; as soon as the present becomes the past, though, it is perfectly clear to see where we went wrong.

For example, I spent the last year of my high school life not really caring if I made good grades or not. As embarassing as it is to say, the only thing on my mind for the longest time was a boy I know. (I'm human, okay? Anyone who hasn't done this is lying.) As soon as I graduated, though, and got to looking at my grades and overall GPA, I was horrified. The whole "Duh" factor swept in, leaving me with the browbeating of "If only I had applied myself...", "If only I had stopped worrying about this and that...", and "Man, I am really dumb at times..."

The thing I have to remember is that looking back, I can't do anything about the past. The past will always be the past and there is nothing we can do about it. All we can do is take the time we are in, the here and the now, and do our best with it. We can't correct our mistakes, but we can learn from them and try not to make them again. And even if we do, and we will continually screw up because we are human, we have to remind ourselves that it will be okay. Everything will be okay, no matter what.

Don't let the "Duh" factor trip you up.

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

College

Today I filled out my college application to Fort Hays State University, my school of choice. It was rather exciting, but mainly resulted in me getting heartburn and a headache.



Hays is a really nice small town that I am looking for to residing in over the next four years, if accepted. Which I should be, as I go above the requirements they have for me and am sending my app way before the rush. At least, I hope all that counts...



When I told my friends initally that I was looking at going to Kansas for my education, I was given mixed feedback. My friend already in college for her second year told me they'd be stupid not to let me in, and that I would have a lot of fun going out of state. She also hopes that our breaks coincide.

My friend in Missouri really didn't say a lot about the subject, as she is trying to deal with her own issues, but I suspect that when she comes to visit this winter we will be talking about it.

But the best reaction came from my guy friend, who scrunched up his face in disbelief and demanded to know why I wanted to go to Kansas. (It's a common theme among people) Which was amusing, because I was under the impression that he didn't care what I did with my life, as long as I didn't randomly keel over on him.



And then there are the reactions of my sister's friends, who all are happy I'm around another year, and don't want me to go at all. To which I shake my head. It's the natural order of things people. Sorry.

And that's all I have time to write, as my computer has already crashed once today. More later...