Mindless Muttering


Thoughts regress into the blank truth
Bold heartache giving way to mindless muttering
Missing a thought more than a person
Wanting a touch and not caring who it is from
These inclinations is what drives me
They drive me into arms I have no place to be
You don’t understand how someone can do
All the things that I do to you and neither can
I, dream of something that might be truth or peace
A faceless entity of love that could be you or someone else
I awake knowing you are a mixture of everything
I’ve made you to be, you are what I perceive you to be
We are looking for something outside of ourselves
To believe in and give our hearts to but then we find
That our belief is found inside and is made of us

A Jack Johnson song I never noticed before but seems appropriate now.


A brand new baby was born yesterday, just in time
papa cried, baby cried, said your tears are like mine
i heard some words from a friend on the phone
that didn't sound so good
the doctor gave him two weeks to live
i would give him more if i could
you know that i would now
if only I could
you know that i would
if only I could
down the middle drops one more grain of sand
they say that new life makes loosing life easier to understand
words are kind they help ease the mind
I miss my old friend
though you got to go
we'll keep a piece of your soul
one goes out
one comes in
you know that I would now
If I could
you know that I would now
If I could

Excited about your party in some second-rate bar on St. Patty's?

going to ireland for St. Patrick's Day. Be back to blogging next week.

so let's review; MY LIFE IS COOLER THAN YOURS

A Little Selfish

So I was told the other day that most blogs are pointless introspective dribble. Well that's probably true and I'm sure mine has been that at times. But I like to write and I like entertaining other people so I'm going to try to make more interesting blog entries.

So I'm reading the Fountainhead right now and for anyone who hasn't read it, do it. The book brings up a lot of good points and observations about life. This book is my boyfriend's favorite and he was explaining Objectivism, the author's philosophy on life. There's one point that at first didn't go over so well with me but as I put it into practice I found that it is a great concept. The basic idea is that we should love other people and such but first over all look after our own interest in the long run. This isn't short-term selfishness but long-term. If people were to truly take care of themselves and see what would be best for their life than I think we would all be a lot happier. Case in point, I have an ex-boyfriend I was trying and trying to be cordial and nice to. I was making myself miserable to show him that I was sorry about breaking up. I didn't want to get back together with him I was just putting his interest first because I thought that's what love was. Then I realized that I needed to be more selfish. If talking to him makes me miserable then why should I? I need to look after my own emotional and mental health number one. It seems we make ourselves miserable everday because we feel we owe it to somebody. We don't. People only have the power over you that you give them. Or put differently, we teach others how to treat us.

So from now I'm going to be more selfish. But being selfish in the long-term also means loving people, not burning bridges but walking away calmly. Having my friends and family is in my best interest in the long term so I will continue to give them all my love. I just won't waste my emotion on those who don't deserve it.

My Serenity

There’s something to be gained
By walking slowly in the rain
I know this much is true

Feeling the small trickle of heaven
Drops coldly count to seven
They feel like you

To walk undefeated below a cloud
Unclearly covered in a shroud
I am invisible, unbeatable

I dare heaven to hold me back again
Dare to doubt the minds of men
My knowledge untouchable

I am here, I scream without permit
I live, breath without consent
This independence is cold

The world is heavy on my shoulders
Gone faith that moved boulders
Twenty seems so old

I am left alone in an ancient wood
That told me what I should
Respect all above me

But this wood has become my fiend
Does not know what I’ve seen
Heaven on earth

Our creation shared by a common author
Does it too hate our father?
Hell is our worth

I guess there’s something to be gained
As my thoughts fall into the rain
Questions of identity

Where is my serenity?

Beyond My Scope

Bright open skies of future
Carried on the back of hope
May the winds of realization
Cure this queer fixation

Searching for a clean sheet
Paper to write my story upon
Memories fill each line before
My hands can ask for more

Clouds shadow opportunity
Recollection causes despair
No new leaf to turn around
The broken clips of sound

I will walk back to that sky
My open sky of future
I will carry on my back the hope
Of a future that is beyond my scope

OMG! I went for a run at 9am and it was nice and sunny. Went to class at 11 and it was still beautiful. Came out of class at 1pm and everything was covered in snow!

"Why'd you sing Hallelujah if it means nothing to you?"--Damien Rice, Delicate

I love me some Jack Johnson

There's no combination of words I could put on the back of a postcard. No song that i could sing. but I could try for your heart. Our dreams, they are made of real things like a shoebox of photographs with sepiatone loving. Love is the answer, at least for most of the questions in my heart. Like, why are we here? And where do we go? And how come it's so hard? It's not always easy and sometimes life can be deceiving. I'll tell you one thing, it's always better when we're together. It's always better when we're together. Yeah, look at the stars when we're together. Well, it's always better when we're together. Yeah, It's always better when we're together. And all of these moments just might find their way into my dreams tonight. But I know that they'll be gone when the light sings and brings new things. For tomorrow night you see that they'll be gone too. Too many things I have to do. But if all of these dreams might find their way into my day to day scene I'd be under the impression I was somewhere in between with only two, just me and you. Not so many things we got to do or places we got to be. We'll sit beneath the mango treee now. I believe in memories. They look so, so pretty when I sleep. Hey now, and when I wake up, you look so pretty sleeping next to me. But there is not enough time, and there is no song I could sing and there is no combination of words I could say. But I will still tell you one thing, we're better together.

"what if I got it wrong
and no poet or song
could put right what I got wrong
or make you feel I belong"--Coldplay, What If

I was reading some other blogs yesterday and I realized that there are issues I have yet to address on mine, namely Christianity. I don't know why it took me so long to get around to my own personal feelings on the subject. I have been a Christian since I was 13 years old. As I look back now it seems so young but my life has always been full of heartache so at thirteen I was far from the innocent girl you might think. Though the biggest test of my faith came much later at the age of 18. It's amazing how close two years ago can still seem sometimes. A number of factors came together to leave me feeling alone and unable to control my surroundings. If you have read earlier entries then you know about my battle with various eating disorders, namely bulemia. After reaching my bottom I went to Christian counseling and it quite literally saved my life. Now being here has been a test on its own. Europe is not religion central, to say the least. Out of my core group of friends, two are athiests, one is an agnostic, and the other is a struggling Christian like myself. One of my athiest friends tried to break my resolve toward Christianity by showing me how foolish it was. We would go rounds around each other and I tried all the basic "salvation arguments" in the book. Finally I told him about the things I had gone through two summers ago and what Christianity had done for me. I told him that I could never turn my back on God completely because of this experience. Finally he understood and we haven't fought over it since. We occasionally talk about theology but I'm not trying to convert him and he's not trying to convert me. Maybe there are those out there who think that I'm not doing my Christian duty by letting his beliefs be. Maybe I'm not. But in the end God isn't insecure and neither am I. My Christian walk is more of a stumbling, meandering stagger. I don't read my Bible like I should or go to church at all. I get annoyed when people act like Christianity is the only thing in their life worth talking about, namely my mother. As someone once so eloquently put it, "i'm not one of those christians that oozes with Godliness".

I don't know what any of this entry was supposed to mean except that my friends back home don't need to start worrying about my salvation yet and my friends here don't have to worry about me throwing a Bible at them yet.

"I'm not losing me, I'm gaining you"

I heard a long time ago, in an effort to keep me chaste, that every time you have sex with someone you give a piece of yourself away. Now I maintain that this is true and I'm not condoning casual sex. Though I was thinking about this in the context of Love. Everytime you love someone you give them a piece of you. I know this every time I look at my friend who has never loved someone. There is something freeing about giving yourself away but somehow I feel a little more broken than she is. Then it occured to me that if I'm giving myself away then so are they and it is their gift to me that fills the space my gift has left. It's like the Counting Crows said, "me but all you but still me". I am a mixture of people that have come in and out of my life. I might have a track record but it makes me a better person in the end, having all these pieces that converge to make me the complex individual I am. This is why you should choose the choice of your affection wisely, they will be with you long after they have gone.

I may take a holiday in Spain
Leave my wings behind me
Drink my worries down the drain
And fly away to somewhere new

I'm leaving to go to Norway tomorrow morning and this fact is both the worst thing and the best thing. I want nothing more than to get away from it all but I'm so tired of dealing with all the traveling. My body is tired and my soul is tired. Here is a song that gives me hope that there is healing, acceptance, and most of all Love at the end. It's by Blue Merle and named Part of your history

I always knew that you'd do great things
didn't ever want to slow you down
I was there when you learned to use your wings
and I saw you leave the ground

time spent in your sweet arms
was the best time that i've known
maybe the reason i was here at all
is to see you carry on

don't you know i'm still remembering
i was once someone to you
girl you were meant for something better
it doesn't matter anymore what you think of me
just proud to be part of your history

I knew the time was coming soon
'cause you were growing up so fast
sometimes you can lose so much
when you try to make it last

I always knew you'd do great things
didn't ever want to slow you down
i was there when you learned to use your wings
and i saw you leave the ground

don't you know i'm still remembering
i was once someone to you
girl you were meant for something bigger
it doesn't matter anymore what you think of me
just proud to be part of your history

doesn't matter anymore 'cause you set me free
just proud to be part of your history

"I can look in to your eyes and see the mess we're in. Well darling if it's shit came out then I suppose that its shit went in."

I'm pissed.
I was telling my friend that has never had a boyfriend that there are different types of break-ups. There are those that tear your heart apart because you really thought you were going to be together forever, those are the ones you never really get over. Then there are the ones that it hits you one day that you don't quite go together as a couple and really shouldn't date anymore, those are relatively peaceful and can end with the two of you being friends. Then there are those that you fight for and fight for only to realize that one day that maybe it's better if you're not together. Once you've been a part for a while and see what the other person is really like you become severely pissed off that you even wasted so much time on the relationship in the first place. I am there.

so I went to Turino, Italia this weekend for the Winter Olympics. Totally awesome and since I know I will have to tell this story a million times here is a condensed version so I can at least pretend that it will decrease the number of times I repeat this story.

So we started out on Friday evening at 7. We (Kirsten, Elizabeth, Fran, and I) had to take a train to London, a subway to the bus station, a bus to the airport and then sleep in the airport so we could make our 10am flight. We survived the first night on the tile floor and later some semi-comfortable chairs. We arrived in Italy and took a bus into the town center. We didn't have a place to stay for the night so we wondered around the city, looking at the different plazas. We ran into some Italian guys and then American guys who gave us the idea of going to a pub to get out of the cold for a while. When I walked in to the pub I immediately spotted these two girls wearing Texas A&M shirts. We sat down with them to drink and eat and soon discovered that most people in the bar were in the same predictament as we were, without a place to stay. The rest of the night was amazing. We stayed at the pub till 4am making friends with tons of countries. By the end of the night Kirsten and I were friends with nearly everyone in the bar. Finally the time came to leave our new best friends to catch our train to Milan where we had reserved a hostel. We found some americans that were living in Switzerland that were staying in Milan also and rode with them.
We arrived in Milan at 730am and proceeded to go to our Hostel. Mind you I hadn't had sleep in almost 36 hours at this point. When we got to the hostel they told us that we could not go to our rooms till 11 and that we could not sit in the lobby, we were thrown back out into the streets of Milan. We managed to find a McDonalds, after Kirsten tried to sleep on the floor of the subway station, and realized that the McDonalds didn't open till 9am. We sat outside dead tired, starving, and hung over. Kirsten said it was the worst moment of her life, to which I responded that she must have a great life because we were still in Italy watching the Olympics which was pretty freaking awesome. Finally when they opened the doors we rushed in to discover that they didn't start serving food till 10 and that the only morsel we could have was from the coffee bar which had a selection of croissants. we sat down in teh warm store trying not to pass out and buying random food items so that they wouldn't kick us out. We waited around till right before 11 and went back to the Hostel. Upon our arrival we were told that the first receptionist was wrong, our room would not be ready till 2pm. I think the lady saw the look on our faces and told the maid to please rush our rooms, we were in by 12. We slept away the rest of our stay in Milan and awoke at 1am to catch a train back to Turin, or so we thought.
See Elizabeth had failed to notice that there wasn't an earlier train to Turin because the train station didn't even open till 4am. We were told this little tidbit by our cab driver on the way to the station. so we were forced to sit outside the train station in the early morning hours waiting for it to open. Once the station did open our train sitll wasn't scheduled to leave for another hour and a half so we snuck on and slept in the dark of the train. When we arrived in Italy we had to find the bus to get to the Olympic village, the easiest feat yet, and arrived on time to the curling competition at 9am. Curling was pretty awesome, I have to admit I had never watched the sport before so I was quite intrigued. Afterwards, we had 6 hours till our next even. what we thought was plenty of time.
After we got back to the Olympic village we got on the wrong city bus and ended up an hour later stopped in some random neighborhood as the lone occupants of the bus. After another half hour ride we decided to just get off and find our own way around with the map. we preceeded to get lost though thankfully an english speaking italian noticed our plight and pointed us to a bus stop that would get us to where we needed to go. We decided to split up when we got to the train station so that kirsten and fran could order us some lunch at a nearby pizzeria and elizabeth and I could check into the hostel. When Elizbeth and I got the Hostel we found that the room was meant only for two people and therefore there were only two small (smaller than my university dorm room bed) beds in the room meant for the four of us. At that point, a bed was a bed and we really didn't care anymore. We made it back to the local pizzeria that fran and kirsten were supposed to be at but it was closed because the italians were taking their midday break. we found the two at the pub we had frequented two nights before and we gorged ourselves on pizza, jacket potatoes, and burgers, it was our first real meal since the trip had began.
We made it to skiing, though we barely made it to the train (the doors were closed and we had to convince the conductor to let us on) and that night we pushed the beds together to sleep like only people who have been without proper sleep in so long can.
At this point you might wonder what else could go wrong. well nothing did. we had a wonderful italian meal and toured turin the last day. We made it back to Uni by 1030 that night. With everything that went wrong I have to say that I never felt so alive than this weekend. It will forever stand out as one of the best times of my life.

"The past is told by those who win. What matters is what hasn't been"--Jimmy Eat World

I recently saw The Vagina Monologues. Now for those of you out there who think this is an opening for a feminist rant then I'd hate to disappoint but it's not. I loved the play, I thought it was brilliant and hilarious but also had it's stumbles. To further increase the anxiety of listening to women talk about their vaginas for two hours I went with a male friend of mine. He was a good sport about the play though I could tell there were times when he was thoroughly uncomfortable, compounded by the fact that he doesn't have any sisters to help him understand the mystery that is women. So back to the beginning, I was watching the Vagina Monologues and for those who haven't seen the play it consist of 25 women acting different monologues about various women issues. One of the women was speaking and I was struck by her voice and trying to decide if she was American or not. This may sound silly to those who have never studied abroad but there are two major things that can make deciphering an American accent difficult. First of all, since I am constantly surrounded by varying accents my ears have come to accept each voice as its own without immediately trying to decipher the origin of the accent. Secondly, many international schools have American teachers and are attended by American children so it is entirely possible that someone can have an accent that on the surface seems American but in fact is not. So I asked my companion if the girl was American and he responded in the affirmative. He also mentioned that there was another American girl he had noticed at the beginning of the play. I quickly scanned the crowd of women and immediately my eyes fell on her. I can't explain what an American woman looks like unless you have spent a fair time in another country. I had heard English men speak of the beauty of American women but I was unsure on what they meant until I saw her. While the other young women sat non-chalantly in their seats waiting their turn, she sat on the edge of her seat, legs crossed with her arms carefully draped over her legs. She was completely self-possessed, confidant, and elegant. It reminded me of what one friend had said when I asked him why he liked American women. He said "their confidance" was number one. Watching this Amiercan woman I finally understood what my friend meant. Next to her all the English Women looked like children, constantly pulling at their waist coasts, unsure of what lay ahead. I quickly observed my own posture in my chair and wondered if I too held her stateliness. How American am I? That is a question I am trying to answer everyday.

"American girls are weather and noise, playing exchanges for all of the boys."-Counting Crows, American Girls

Jack Johnson- Cocoon. I could listen to this guy all day

based on your smile
im betting all of this might be over soon
but you're bound to win
because if i'm betting against you, i think i'd rather lose

but this is all that i have, so please
take whats left of this heart, and use
please use only what you really need
you know i only have so little, so please
mend your broken heart and leave

i know its not your style
and i can tell by the way that you move its real real soon
but im on your side
and i dont want to be your regret, id rather be your cocoon

but this is all that you have, so please
let me take whats left of your heart, and i will use
i swear ill use only what i need
i know you only have so little, so please

let me mend my broken heart
you said this was all you have
and its all i need
but blah blah blah
because it fell apart
i guess its all you knew
and all i had
but now we have
only confused hearts
i guess all we have
is really all we need

so please
lets take these broken hearts, and use
lets use only what we really need
you know we only have so little, so please
take these broken hearts and leave

Introduction to something, I'm not yet sure what.

“What was love supposed to be like?” She yells out to me through the rain. Her dress is soaked through and I immediately know she has been standing out her for hours. I stare at the shivering face of my fallen angel Maria. I haven’t seen her since the fall. The red and golden leaves drifted down to her as she descended with each lie. Maria, the girl that had given her heart to me at fifteen and taken it back at twenty. I had the sudden urge to give her warmth. I opened my mouth to ask if she wanted to come in but my words were lost.
“What was love supposed to be like?” Her face pleaded with me for an answer.
“What were you waiting for?”
“Did you expect us to be perfect?”
“Were you waiting for me to be perfect?” Her questions are coming too fast and my mind can’t comprehend their meaning. Maria, oh Maria, you tasted like summer and always stopped to dance in the rain. I thought having her in my life made everyday mean something. I wish I could hold you again.

Jimmy Eat World, Kill

well you're just across the street
looks a mile to my feet
i want to go to you
funny how i'm nervous still
i've always been the easy kill
i guess i always will

could it be that everything goes around by chance?
or only one way that was always meant to be?
you tell me you always know the perfect thing to say
i know what i should do but i just can't walk away

i can picture your face well
from the bar in my hotel
i wish i'd go to you
i pick up, put down the phone
like your favorite heatmiser song goes
"it's just like being alone"
Oh God, please don't tell me this has been in vain
I need answers for what all the waiting after means
you tell me you got some nerve but can't face your mistakes

i know what i should do
but i just can't turn away
so go on love
leave while there's still hope for escape
you got to take what you can these days
there's so much ahead, and so much regret

I know what you want to say
I know it but can't help feeling differently
I loved you and I should of said it
but tell me what has it ever meant
I can't help it baby this is who I am
I'm sorry but i can't just go turn off how i feel
you tell me you fill me up but just to watch me break

I know what i should do
but i just can't walk away.

I am sad, angry, hurt, scared, ashamed.

No post for a couple of days, I'm going to Barcelona. How sweet is my life? It's awesome when a guy hits on you at the club and ask what you're doing this weekend and you say; "Barcelona", next weekend?
"Italy"
next weekend?
"Norway"
after that?
"Inverness (Loch Ness)"
and then?
"London"
so I'm pretty much never going to see you again?
'yeah pretty much'

"If it wasn't for the mist we could see your home across the bay," said Gatsby. "You always have a green light that burns all night at the end of your dock."
Daisy put her arm through his abruptly, but he seemed absorbed in what he had just said. Possibly it had occurred to him that the colossal significance of that light had now vanished forever. Compared to the great distance that had separated him from Daisy it had seemed very near to her, almost touching her. It had seemed as close as a star to the moon. Now it was again a green light on a dock. His count of enchanted objects had diminished by one.

.................................................

"I wouldn't ask too much of her," I ventured. "You can't repeat the past."
"Can't repeat the past?" he cried incredulously. "Why of course you can!"
He looked around him wildly, as if the past were lurking here in the shadow of his house, just out of reach of his hand.
"I'm going to fix everything just the way it was before," he said, nodding determinedly. "She'll see."
He talked a lot about the past, and I gathered that he wanted to recover something, some idea of himself perhaps, that had gone into loving Daisy. His life had been confused and disordered since then, but if he could once return to a certain starting place and go over it all slowly, he could find out what that thing was...

These excerpts come from F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby. As you can see from the quotes the main character Gatsby is in love with a girl he once dated years ago. His life is consumed by the idea of her loving him once again. I understand Gatsby's grief but I also feel sorry for him because of the extent to which he has taken his infatuation. On that note I will leave you part of the ending, when Gatsby realizes Daisy isn't going to be his.

No telephone message arrived, but the butler went without his sleep and waited for it until four o'clock--until long after there was anyone to give it to if it came. I have an idea that Gatsby himself didn't believe it would come, perhaps he no longer cared. If that was true he must have felt that he had lost the old warm world, paid a high price for living too long with a single dream. He must have looked up at an unfamiliar sky through frightening leaves and shivered as he found what a grotesque thing a rose is and how raw the sunlight was upon the scarcely created grass. A new world, material without being real, where poor ghosts, breathing dreams like air, drifted fortuitously about..