I'm ranting while I'm raving: "There's nothing here worth saving!"

So tell me now what more do you need?

Miguelos, I've lost the will for fighting over everything.   

and there's a few things I gotta say... make no mistake I'm mad.                                                   

Cause every good thing I had abandoned me.

Oh sad and lonesome me     

I'm the walking wounded                                                    

Did I say it to your face?                   

No? I guess I just can't find my place          

Why can't you just tell me what more do you need?                                             

Kryptonite

I've been feeling quite disillusioned over the last week or so. Maybe its the change in the weather (though San Antonio simply goes from Hot to Less Hot) or maybe its the crippling reality of finals but I feel myself waking up to the realization that I don't know myself at all. The last semester has changed a lot. The year before even more. My life keeps changing and I keep adapting but all the sudden I look at myself in the mirror and think, "Who are you?". 

I definitely feel older. Not just in the physical sense (yesterday I went running and the pain in my knees was horrible) but also mentally. The things that used to interest me don't. The food that I used to like, now inspires not even a second look. Someone asked me the other day what my hobbies are and I couldn't think of any. Yeah, I get it. I am in law school. My life consists of studying, sleeping, studying, eating, studying, listening, and studying. I have no hobbies except those which keep me sane (working out about 4 days a week and watching my weekly sitcoms spread out one night each).

I used to write (this doesn't really count because i have the distinct feeling my style is lacking).

I used to draw and paint (my painting was never that great but my pen and ink work was making strides)

I used to read the newspaper every morning over breakfast (now I don't read anything that doesn't come in textbook form)

Growing up it always seemed that we could retain those things that made us different if we simply tried enough but now I am starting to wonder. It's more than law school, this has been a shift that began slowly, imperceptibly, and now has made my life something I don't recognize. 

You think I'm so relaxed, nothing ever bothers me. Now, I realize it may just be apathy. I've been through some shit; some unexpected and a lot of my own making but I still lived it and all this....this is boring. This is simple. All of the possibilities laid before me make me feel

indestructible

Whatever happens, it is all livable. They're all swimming against the current as I sit on the shore. 

Invincible

Like Superman right before the kryptonite. 

"When I was young, change was an earthquake, destructive, painful, and complete; now change is a shifting sand, moving quietly, unnoticed until it is gone completely." -- Moi

Love Letter to a Blog

It has been a long time since last we spoke but I am thinking of you, I want you to know. Before, words would flow out of me, their only hinderance the speed of my keystrokes. Now there is silence. I want to reach out to you again and tell you all about the life I have been living but my words are now lost. I am without a home or country but I feel firmly rooted in place. My longing for independence is gone as I find myself alone. What could I telll you about this alien land? It is cold here. My bed is empty and my heart is slowly following its lead. I want to be happy, and I have found joy, but my young soul is aging every day. No longer do I feel the sheer abandonment of youth but, rather, the cold practicality of wisdom. I want to be stupid and reckless but there are things I love greater than my selfish need.
I love the sense of accomplishment.
I love a well-rested body and a clear head.
I love the moments of silent reflection that last for hours.
I love knowing exactly what I want
I hate not having it
I have not written in a long time but I want you to know I am thinking of you. I need you to know there is something here that I cannot say but one day I will. I will tell you everything, just give me the time.

a name

you are

more than

you are

a name

maybe there was a moment before but now i am unsure that surely there would have been a moment before of that i am sure.

lyrics run around my head but come to nothing. they look forward to your looks again

My Story is that I am Me

There has been a story brewing in my soul. Lines pass through me, ghosts of thought that cannot be adequately expressed or understood. Where does a story begin? Is a story created or merely found? Can we remain open to the universe of life, open for the fabled muse to enter in and guide our minds through the wandering storylines?

Where do you begin a story? I suppose where every story, every life, begins- I will tell you of the day of my birth. But that is not truly where it all began is it? There is a moment to which we can point and know that at this second we were created but there is a history to our creation. There is a story that began with my parents, and before that their parents, and before that and before that. It is the story we are born into.
Man's original sin in lyrical form.
What story was I born into? It is the story that has shaped my every thought and action. I am fully aware that at twenty-two years old I am far from my own person. I have tried to be. I have abstained from various vices of flesh and spirit to create an indepence that can assuredly be mine but I have failed. I am who I am. I am the product of generations of love, hate, knowledge, and dreams. I am a child of the sixties that was born in the eighties. I have lived many lives and died to each of them. I am twenty-two and the most invincible mortal being I know.

I am me and that is my story.

Thoughts on Dial-Up

I've been visiting my folks in the mountains of tennessee for the past week. They have internet but it is dial-up, thus quite slow. I forgot my iPod and Audacity to Hope seems a bit too much to read at times, so I am left alone to my thoughts a lot. I try not to let this happen too much, because if I do, I know I will begin to stress about either France or my LSAT. I also might think too much of my friends. This is where the hurt is now. For some reason, the pain of leaving seems far greater than it did two years ago when I boarded a plane for England. My number and depth of relationships has grown enormously and I can't help but be saddened at the thought of leaving all of these wonderful people behind.

There's the love that could have been
The friend who always listened
The one who always laughed
The pondering soul that drove me
together, they make up my past

There are days I wonder if I really will have the courage to make all of my dreams come true. I begin to think of the day when I will look around me and know that I have made it to the place I always dreamt I would be. I wonder what that day will look like.

I have effectively chosen Washington College and am waiting for them to choose me. This will mean that I will leave Texas behind. The thought sobers me greatly, because inside I know that I am only as content as the amount of love that surrounds me. In a way I am thankful that this is a choice I have made by myself; my eyes are the only ones I will have to hold accountable. Yet the truth is that I only walk away from the things I love. Somewhere in my young mind it started to make sense that if I walked away first then I could never be left. It's a pattern that follows me to this day.

People praise my traveling spirit but I tell them there is no other way I can be. I am bound by this restless soul that spurs me forward at the very whisper of ritual or normalcy. I see people content in their bubble and I envy beyond belief. I can only find joy in the small things when I know those things have a time limit, a forseeable end.

It's getting too late and too personal, but i'm breaking and it hurts. If there is one thing that drives my creativity it is the darkness that our souls fall into at times.

An Honest Book

I want to apologize to the Blog community for letting things get a little personal on here. I should have considered the consequences of participating in a 'Blog fight'. As I sat at dinner with my friend last night and related the story to her, I realized how ridiculous this all is. Writing a long diatribe to accuse me of wrongdoings is ridiculous and responding to it with folksy wisdom is even more foolish...

Hopefully I can stand in front of my friends as I am, without worrying about the misconceptions that come from the written word. It’s hard to remember that these Blogs are more than spoken words said in the heat of the moment; they are testaments to our feelings and thoughts that are open for everyone to analyze. Maintaining your dignity in the online community is just as important as and sometimes harder than in the real world. In our face-to-face conversations and interactions we are granted a certain level of leniency. I feel this is missing here.

So, again, I apologize.



Editor’s note: I used the title Self-Defense because of the experience I have had in the courtroom. Many people waive their right to an attorney when they believe they have nothing to hide- this is how I feel. I am and always have been an open book, maybe a little hard to read at times, but honest none the less.

Self- Defense

When I was living in Lancaster, I dated a young British man named Richard (yeah I’m going to talk about an ex). After a couple of weeks he decided that he didn’t want to date me anymore. I listened to him calmly as we sat together on my dorm room bed. I cannot remember his argument exactly but it centered somewhere around the fact that I was leaving to go back home in a couple of months. After he had stated his case, I told him that I thought he was right and that we should break-up. He sat there confused. He had expected a protest, I assume, and my acquiescence had startled him into thinking that I didn’t really want to date him at all. You see- as I calmly stated to him- that was not the case. I believe that if there is a point where you think that you should break up with, or no longer date, a person and if you believe in this reason strongly enough to tell them about it, then you should, most definitely, end the relationship. Because, if there can be a doubt in your mind strong enough to start the dialogue of a breakup then it will assuredly lead to one whether immediately or many years down the road. My statements had the strange effect of changing his mind and making him realize that he didn’t want to break up with me at all.

Three weeks later we broke up.

The point is this- sometimes we don’t take our own advice. There have been many times when I have decided that I shouldn’t be dating someone for a particular reason but I continue because they (or me) talked me back into it.

Reasons don’t just go away.

They also don’t just appear and acting like they did is only lying to yourself.


*As I slept on my brother’s couch Saturday night, I thought of this story. Birthdays usually don’t have a mental effect, but, somehow, at 22 I can say, ‘things are changing’.

Sometimes I feel the fear of uncertainty stinging clear
And I can’t help but ask myself how much I'll let the fear take the wheel and steer
It's driven me before, it seems to have a vague, haunting mass appeal
Lately, I'm beginning to find that I should be the one behind the wheel
Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there with open arms and open eyes…
It's driven me before, it seems to be the way that everyone else get around
Lately, I'm beginning to find that when I drive myself, my light is found

You are My Favorite

Inspired by:
Padraig’s My Girl-

On those days that I admit to myself that I want a guy, I began to wonder what shape that fabled man might take. What color would his perfectly tinted eyes be? What shade of hair would I find between my fingers? What would we talk about as we laid on the couch on a lazy Sunday afternoon? I would want him to be a writer, or at least some type of artist, because, as my father once told me, only one artist can understand another. I’m mostly over the physical characteristics, though a dark brunette can still make me stop and stare. He would be successful, or at least driven, because there is still that part of me that can’t stand mediocrity. We would have a weekly date of wine and conversation. I would catch him watching me as I made cookies, with a tender look in his eyes and I would know that he loved me more than he could have ever imagined. He would let me put my feet on his while I am sleeping because they get cold at night. He would understand that sometimes I have to run away to know what I am coming back to; that there is a part of me that is restless and it has nothing to do with him at all. I would call him by a nickname that his mother had used for him as a child and he wouldn’t mind at all. If I told him that I loved him more he would respond “I know” and I would act hurt so that he would kiss me on the forehead. We would drive out to the country so we could sit on the hood of his car and listen to the lyrics of songs while we counted the stars. If we got lost, we would remember all the details and relate them in funny voices to friends who weren’t there. And every night, before we fell asleep, we would push the hair back from my eyes and say, “you are my favorite.”

Letters from the Other Side


The edges that had once defined a star so bright that she closed her eyes now cut her with their strength of character. Wounds that were left untreated grew greater until the poison and hurt were too much to begin to bear. She forced her pained eyes to open and to gaze at this star that had now become her enemy. A cool gaze met in reply that could watch for days but never understand the sight. The twins in black converse shoes and blonde ponytails that bobbed as they giggled at jokes made secret by the depth of their experiences. Could it ever be again? How does one break up with a best-friend?

Mon anniversaire

Seventeen and grubby knees outside the dorm room window on grass
That stained the dreams in adolescent heads and stars which burned
Closer than the sky had ever been with tiki torch lighting the way
Eighteen and pulling scabs on knees to feel the pains of growing
Heat with air pressing in tight watching you walk backwards
From a heart that bled all its years forever and a day today
Nineteen and hello, goodbye blink open eyes seeing it all
In front and behind the door and this girl then a woman
Wanting more but wondering what all they would say
Twenty and flying oceans dream in gingerbread castles
Filled with a bubbly word it drank on vodka and novelty
Live life watched only from distance a movie screen away
Twenty-one and crash American dreams create kaleidoscope
The twist and shape your colors bend the lights in my foresight
The perfect memory where ought and naught all that is left to say
Twenty-two and mirrored numbers meet to watch I fly ocean again
The balanced title that devises even days and nights ahead in perfect
Symmetry to whisper après moi a woman that needs not break or fray

So.......

I'm working on a new chapter but I've committed to writing on this blog at least every other day- which I haven't decided is good or bad for my writing- but, either way, I'm going to write something now, because, well, it's that time again kidos.

*that has to be one of the longest sentences ever recorded by man....in fact, I'm sure it is.

Stuff I've been thinking about lately ( because I'm sure you want to know )

1. Whether I should stay in Europe forever or come back and go to Law School. Though, Pat thinks I should stay in europe, and since I sometimes confuse his with the voice of God, I'm leaning that way.

2. I've been working out ALOT lately...that and studying my LSAT material. In fact, it reminds me of the days when I focused on school and health because I was ambitious and driven; instead of now when I just live in a REALLY boring town.

3. I Feel Fine by the Riddlin Kids has been on repeat in my car. I'm not sure why exactly but I think it has something to do with a previous conversatin where I said "I'm fine being single" and he responded "No, you're not."
Who says that?!?!

4. I took pictures of my car to put up on the internet and since have been looking at them whilst at work. I think, "Damn that's a nice car". But that is how much I love Europe, I'm willing to sell it...Maybe God will see my anguish and give me both?!?! Please Pretty Please.

5. If you're still reading this you eithr think I'm EXTREMELY neurotic or that it is really really boring to work at a law office. It's usually the former but today a bit of the latter.

Damn Lucky


Here’s the problem. I’ve got to be blown away. I mean, AMAZED. Then again, I have to be adored. The two don’t seem to mix. I mean, if I am truly amazed by a guy then what is the likelihood he will feel the same way about me? Whereas, if I am not amazed by the guy but he is amazed by me we will continue to play a charade where I keep going on date after date hoping that at some point I am amazed by him all the while knowing that even if I were to get into a relationship with this person I would not be happy because I would be constantly thinking about how they just do not blow me away.
Got it?
So maybe this is why I’ve been so utterly single for the past sixteen months unless you count the blip that was Kip, but I don’t (unless he does) -which I’m sure he doesn’t. So I am back to the beginning. I’ve got a bit of a problem and my friends are tired of hearing about it. One of my friends says I’m way too picky and I need to lower my standards and give someone a fucking chance.
“For Christsakes Clare, give him a fucking chance!”
And then my other friend, well she listens quite quietly and then responds “Well Clare you see it’s not really that big of a deal. It doesn’t really matter at all. Next week someone new will ask you out and you will replace this heartbreak with a new one. Don’t you see that you never have to be upset because there’s always a replacement? Well, at least for girls like you.”
You would think I didn’t have a heart. I can steal feel…whether it be for one or twenty.
(Whoa that sounds messed up)
Then my ex says “You’re damn lucky you’re pretty. You as annoying as hell and no one would put up with that sarcasm of yours if you weren’t so damn pretty.” And I think, shit he’s right. I am severely messed up and every day and date that goes by proves the point even further. I want to think it wasn’t always this way. Once, when asked how old I was the last time I was single, I responded…”I don’t know…12”. Yeah, it happened.
But through a dramatic course of events that involved one birthday, a chocolate pie, a Myspace page, and an extremely pissed-off Clare, I decided to take a break. I hung up my dancing shoes. I didn’t go on a single date for three months. Then there was New Years, some garbage-can punch, and one serious conversation in the bathroom. Again, I was left smarting.
Well, I made that birthday call again this year but left out the chocolate pie. As I sat down the phone, I looked at my best-friend (the one with the boyfriend) and we both said “What a difference a year makes”.
The point is that, I am still single and I’m OK. I’m moving to France in two months for a year abroad until I start law school. Honestly, I’m in love with my life right now. Do I wish there was someone to share it with? Sometimes, but more often than not, I am content.
At the end of the day, I’m still friends with all my exes (minus one), my friends ask for my advice on their relationships (so I must not be too messed-up), and my guy friends do wonderful things like tell me I’m the epitome of amazingness (I heart Pat).
You know, being the single friend isn’t so bad after all.

"I put millions of miles under my heels,
but still too close to you I feel."

To you:

I need you to know-

I'm praying for you
I want to make it go away
I didn't mean to use the past tense in my letter
I want to drive home, wrap you in my arms, and tell you it will be ok

You are strong and amazing. You are one of the best men I've ever known. I don't know what is going to happen, but I am sure that you will handle it with a manner of grace and maturity that will surpass those around you. I believe in you.

Call me in five years.........

60 minutes
24 hours
365 days
5 years

Time: it's all I got and everything I need.



who ever said it was women who can't make up their minds?

Darlin'

"I can see it in your eyes like I taste your lips, and
they both tell me we're better than this.
'Cause that's what I'm waiting for.
that's what i'm waiting for, aren't I?
that's what I'm waiting for darlin'. "


When did waiting for better become acting for nothing?

Last year around this time, I began the 'single thing'. I purposefuly remained single to clarify my mind and figure myself out. It all sounded very Zen. I would work out more, drink less, and come to find who the real 'clare' was. My longtime friends cheered my independence; I had always been the girl with the boyfriend and they were excited to see what I might find on my own. So I began my journey, full of my own pride and thinking that, when the time came, I could end my fast on love. Many long runs and attempted Yoga positions later, I decided to accept a date and get back out there. It all started out innocently enough, with someone I had known and wanted to date for a long time. But then one thing led to another and nothing seemed to work out. My friends who had cheered me at the starting line were now considering the various effects this jaunt into self-fulfillment had cost me. They began doing what is the gravestone of every single person's life: they set me up with their boyfriend's friends. A couple of dinners and some polite conversation later, I began to wonder where this Zen journey had left me. I had completed the journey; I had figured out exactly what I wanted, now I just had to find the guy. Three strikes was brought down to one and nobody was able to measure up. Not funny enough, not serious enough, oh wait too serious, but not smart enough, and definitely not cute enough... and again and again.

fuck Zen

I think my one year sojourn has become two

"Yeah!" they'll say, "You're a free woman!" they'll rant all the while whispering..."do you think we should set her up with Paul or Thomas?"

The old woman to Past:
"Please leave I don't need you to sleep on my pillow every night, weighing down my mind."

The young woman to Past:
"Please never leave, I don't know who I am without you."