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Arise

There are certain aspects of life that have made me feel like…

a jury, judge, and executioner all in one.

I don’t really feel that way any more. But the feeling that never leaves is this need to get a rush, at whatever means possible. Sometimes it’s like I can’t stop and that’s the thing that scares me. The words that leave my mouth before I can even think of what I’m saying.

Sometimes all the words add up in my head and they continue to tally. I think of the person I’d tell all those words to if I could, and how I will, when they’re not so busy or they come around again. But the days pass and as the days pass so do the words. I can only keep the tally going for so long.

Until I let it go.

It’s funny how I almost never think of Arizona until something reminds me of the opposite of it. I was laying in bed last night and there was light peering into my room from the window. It was like, 2 in the morning and I looked out the window up at the sky and it wasn’t even dark. Like, not really. It just doesn’t get dark here. In Arizona it got dark outside, in the desert. Like, you knew it was night. When it’s night here, you don’t really know.

So I see my life falling into step and into this pattern of living and it scares me, because I don’t really know if I like where things are going. I think I look at God sometimes and ask Him,

“Do I have a say in any of this?”

and he’s kind of just like,

“Um, duh.”

Of course I do. I mean, I could stop it all at any time. I don’t think it’s the hope for something *better* that keeps me going. It’s different than that.

In the book of Mark, Jesus approached this 12-year old that everyone thought was dead. He looked at her and he said,

“Little girl, I say to you, arise.”

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Girl With a Pearl Earring

What are you living for?

What are you suffering for?

The same scenery day after day can begin to look different if only you look through another set of eyes.

What are you striving for?

Theses are questions I ask myself as I sit awake at night on the computer, listening to the dryer go on and on and stare at the fingerprints all over my laptop screen.

What are you living for? Is it a person, place, or thing? Is it not noun-y at all? Is it something spiritual? Is it that time of the month when you’re not on your period? Is it that time of night when you’re sitting on the hood of your car, alone, watching a lunar eclipse? Maybe you won’t be alone for the next one. Then again…maybe you will. But if so you’ll still live for that time. I live for times, like that.

I’ve been sick this past week and so the days kind of all mesh together. The days kind of do that anyway, honestly, being sick or not. But this past week I’ve really needed my mom. Cue the dramatic violin and give me an onion to slice but really–it’s just not fair. Living far apart from someone you love. Not even that. Someone who gets you–I mean, really gets you. It’s like they look at you and they discover you and then they show you, YOU. And you’re like oh…I didn’t know I looked like that. I didn’t know I could do that. Or I was already doing that. Not, until you showed me.

Love enables me. It kick starts my morning. It’s the spring in my step. It’s my winged eyeliner. It’s my job performance. It’s my playlist on my Spotify. Love is and always will be–everything.

But when I have no love left, none in reserve, not even for myself. When the backup supply of my backup supply of love is all gone and done away with, what then?

It makes me want to close the windows and lock all the doors and close the curtains and cover all the mirrors. Some days, it’s just too much.

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Roots

And so, it happened. I became a California resident as of Friday, last week.
 
I’ve been waiting for it for awhile. The feeling of it, to really drive home, for me. That this is where I am and will be, for awhile. The feeling that some things are beginning to take root and I am home. For now.
 
So I’ve been dreaming of My So-Called Life lately. Yeah, the show from 1994. I wasn’t sure what my conscience or God was trying to tell me other than yes, Jared Leto is indeed quite a fine specimen of a man. I decided to start watching episodes of it on Hulu last Friday night and then, I found this clip below on Pinterest.
 

 
 
And oh how much this takes root as well. I was talking to my mom the other night, we’d had an emotional week together, even hundreds of miles apart from each other. Me and my sister have been fighting and one of our pets of 12+ years just passed away. Needless to say, last week was a week I cried a damn river and I found myself saying to my mom:
 
“Mom, I know no one (at this specific place) can hate me as much as they think they do..for no one can hate me as much as I hate myself.”
 
Dé jà moo right?
 
I just kinda think like, all of us are drowning in it. These ideas that we have of ourselves. And I don’t know if it’s really as bad as all that or not. 

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A Vision of Loveliness

Yesterday was Sunday.

I worked for eight hours, and we were busy. I got home and went into my room. There was a green bracelet put on my bed with elephants linked together. I put the bracelet on, and then I went swimming. After I went swimming I let my hair dry, grabbed one of the dogs, and drove to my Grandpa’s house. He was in the garage. We talked about getting my car registered in California and me getting my California license. I went inside the house. My Grandma asked me how I was doing. She sat in her lounging chair, watching Murder, She Wrote. She said there were only 12 seasons of the show.  I watched an episode with her. It was about a killer at a circus. I went home after that.

Today is Monday.

I’m folding laundry. Me and my cousin are texting back and forth. I’m listening to music, albeit enjoying a quiet house. I’m still in pajamas. I need to exercise. Wash my hair. It smells like chlorine, from yesterday. I’m going to go to Starbuck’s frappuccino happy hour, later. Read my book by Khaled Hosseini. I will get on the elliptical and try out new eyeshadows and get a late start to the day and most likely ignore everyone and every thing. I will apply for a job as an optician. I will think of the past, and the present, but mostly I will think of the future.

Life is a vision of loveliness. That is the truth. Not that life over there, standing in the corner. This life, over here. Do you see it, at all?

I’m responsible. If I decide to take care of myself or not. It’s not just wisdom teeth and California licenses and drinking or not drinking a pint of ale after midnight.

It’s more frightening.