Remnants of Childhood

Here is yet another of my old poems. 

I went back 

to the place where I grew up

and there I found 

hidden in the brush

the remnants of my childhood.

There they were

at the base of that old tree,

rusted and broken

and so caked with dirt that I could hardly see

these things that I once loved.

Old toy and old places

tend to crumble with time

try if you want

but you never will find

a way to return them

to the way they are in your mind.

In the memories of children

everything seems divine.

Don't misunderstand.

Please don't get me wrong.

I have plenty of bad

and painful memories from when I was young,

more than I care to name.

But it's just different

for children than it is for adults. 

They have this innocence

that won't let them understand what's going on,

it's their only defense.

Children just know

how to see the beauty in everything

and to overlook

the things that they don't want to see,

things too ugly to face,

like depression and anger

in the people they love

and all of the chaos

this world is made of.

They believe those sweet lies

people tell to the young,

and no matter how hard they fall

they always get back up.

I wish that I

could get some of that back,

and see more value

in happiness than in truth and facts.

I miss that innocence.

Maybe then I could

start a new life for myself

and overcome

all of this hopelessness that I have felt.

I think that would save me.

Throw Back Thursdays...?

I've been half considering posting some of my old writing here; mostly because I feel like I'm eventually going to run out of shit to talk about, and that would delay the inevitable for a little while. Are people still doing the Throwback Thursdays thing? I feel like that would be a good(ish) excuse to post old writing. I'm thinking about sharing some of the poems from my ill-fated poetry book from a few (read- more than I care to think about) years ago, also maybe some of the better posts from my old blog, perhaps one or two papers I wrote in college, and possibly even some random excerpts from some of my old notebooks. What do you guys think? Would anyone care to read any of that? I've been skimming through some of it lately, and I feel like most of it's a bit overly dramatic, but also somewhat more creative than the stuff I tend to write now. Could be interesting....or not, I don't know.

Home

I just thought I would go ahead and explain to all of you why having my own space is so important to me that I'm willing to go through all of this fucking hassle just to get a shitty, thirty year old, camper to live in. The things is, I haven't had a place that feels like home to me since.....well....forever. I mean, I'm sure there was a time when I was a kid that I felt at home in my house, but I don't remember it. As long as I can remember, I have been trying to squeeze myself, and my life, and all my stuff, into someone else's space. I've never had a place where I felt comfortable. I've never had a place where I felt at home. I've never had a place that was mine. I need a retreat, a sanctuary, a place where I can go to feel at ease when I just can't deal with the world anymore. I need to know that there is one single place in the world where I can go where I won't have to pretend, or tip-toe around, or try to work my way around other people's stuff. I just need that feeling of home.

The Truth about Me

I feel like I am a totally different person now than I was, say, back in high school; even than I was back when I was going to WVU. I have changed a great deal, both through conscious effort and natural evolution. But there are times I feel like I am still that person I used to be, not just back at WVU or back in high school, but before that. Sometimes I feel like I haven't changed at all over the course of my life. When I think about it, I know that I have. I know that I have grown and learned and become better for it, but then I worry that all of that is in my head and that the people around me will still see me as this goofy, awkward, unattractive child, and that I will never be able to get past that.

Does anyone know the episode (Restless) of Buffy where Willow had the dream that everyone kept telling her that people would find out "the truth about her" or "about the real her." That's what I feel like sometimes; like the person I think of myself as is just this illusion I've created and that everyone knows that but me. 

And This Time I Mean It

Well everyone, I am officially done with Goodwill. I really mean it this time too. The more I think about it, the more I wonder if I should have just walked out of there instead of working out a notice. If I had done that I would know, for a fact, that I would never end up back there. Right now, I know that if I ever get desperate someday I can always go back there. This is sort of a pattern in my life. I keep ending up in the same places over and over again because I know that I can. "Well, if this doesn't work out, I can always go back to that." Bullshit! That sucked! Why would I want to go back to it? I have begun to realize that there is something to be said for burning bridges. At least that way you know you will be making new mistakes instead of just repeating the old ones time and time again for the rest of your life.

The Good Old Days

I think I have mentioned here before how I tend to have an overly romanticized vision on my own past. Everything that has ever happened to me looks infinitely better in retrospect than it did at the time that it happened. Furthermore, it always looks better than whatever is currently happening in my life. I always find myself thinking that I just didn't appreciate how good I had it back then. The problem is, when I find myself looking back longingly on my previous experiences, how do I ever know how accurate my ideas about them are? How do I know if I should try to get back to that point or not? How do I ever know if things were really better then, or if I'm just forgetting all the bad stuff?

Introvert-ish

I've always heard that people are basically born either introverts or extroverts, that it's just something that's built right into each of our personalities. I'm not entirely sure that's always the case. I think there may be natural introverts and extroverts, and manufactured introverts and extroverts. I, for one, am definitely an introvert. The very thought of having to deal with people is, at times, just too much for me to handle. However, I think the avoidance of contact with other humans is a learned behavior for me.

There are three reasons I believe this; 1-I have heard that introverts enjoy being alone. I do not. I just don't happen to enjoy being with people either. 2- Supposedly, introverts feel drained after any type of social interaction. I feel drained after the WRONG type of social interaction. If I actually spend time around people I like, I feel better afterwards. 3- I do not believe that I was born with an aversion to social interaction. When I was a kid, I used to love talking to people. I think it was when I went to school and realized that I was not like the other kids that I began to pull back from them.

I don't know that this information will be of any help to me, in my life. It's just something I've been thinking about.

Well, that Makes 300

I've been trying to use every hundredth post as sort of a recap of everything that has happened in my life since the last hundredth post. Unfortunately, very little has happened since post number 200. So, I decided to sort of look back on my life as a whole. Probably a big, big, fucking mistake. But whatever.

Anyway, if I look back on any particular period in my life, I find that I am a completely different person than I was during any other time in my life. If I think about who I was just a couple of years ago, I barely even recognize myself. I look different, act different, feel different. I have different interests, different goals, different desires. Here's the funny thing though, if I look back on myself from ten years ago, I'm nothing like I was two years ago. However, I'm not sure I'm any further from who I am now. Is it really possible for someone to become an entirely different person every couple of years without ever actually getting any closer to being the person they want to be? It seems the answer is yes. I just keep changing and hoping that someday I'll change into something better, but it seems like the only parts of me that stay the same are the parts that continually fuck me over in my life. Happy 300th post! 

I Have a Wand Now. Wands Are Cool.

So this is going to sound really stupid to anyone who isn't me, and I kind of feel like an ass ever writing it but whatever, I feel like an ass most of them time anyway.

I have been slowly gathering the various tools, symbols, and artifacts associated with Wicca. One of the things I wanted to get was a wand. I had been thinking about buying one, but then David Salisbury's book said that you should create your own. He said to use a fallen branch rather than breaking or cutting one from a tree, and that the wand should be about the length from your elbow to the tip of your middle finger. I knew immediately which tree I wanted to get my wand from. 

There is this one tree that I have loved ever since I was a kid. I used to climb it all the time and, (here comes the really stupid sounding part) I always felt like we had an emotional connection. Anyway, I had been thinking about it for a couple of days and just didn't bother to go look for one. Then, the other day, I just suddenly got all inspired and thought "I'm going to go get a wand from my tree!" This happened to be on a day when it was pouring the fucking rain, but I didn't care; I was going to get a wand! So I'm trudging through the rain, trying to get to my tree and I'm looking at my feet the whole time to make sure I don't trip over anything hidden in the waste high weeds. Then, all of a sudden, I look up and there is this fallen branch tangled in another branch and hanging directly in front of my face. It was exactly the circumference that I was wanting and was almost perfectly straight but with all these cool little knots on it. There was one knot that, when I held it up to my arm, was just at the end of my middle finger. I thought to myself "if it breaks right there, I'll know this is supposed to be my wand, and guess what? It did. The really cool thing is that David Salisbury also mentioned that wands are never supposed to touch the ground. So the fact that this branch had fallen without touching the ground is pretty fucking amazing, I mean if you're a big nerd like me that is. Anyway, the point is I now have a really cool wand that was a gift from my favorite tree.

Nerdiest post ever? Oh, I think so. 

Once Upon a Time

The other day I mentioned that I believe that the secret to not being treated like shit is, for the most part, being confident in your choices. I said that I knew this from personal experience, so I'm going to explain that a little. When I was in school, specifically high school but really the whole way through, I was the weird kid. I always dressed differently, acted differently, hell even talked differently than everyone else. I had few friends, never participated in any sports/clubs/etc. and never made even the tiniest effort to fit in. By the way, I also had terrible skin and braces. However, despite the fact that I'm sure everyone thought I was a complete freak, I never got picked on. I'm sure some of the more unpleasant members of my class said things about me behind my back from time to time, but almost no one ever said anything bad about me to my face. I truly believe this was due to the fact that they knew it wouldn't make any difference. I didn't want to be like them and they knew it. I had no desire for their approval, and this left them with no reason to express their disapproval.

Moving Day

Today I helped my (younger) sister and her boyfriend get furniture moved into their new apartment. Almost everyone I went to school with, and most of the people my sister went to school with are married and have multiple children, meanwhile I am perpetually single, living with my dad and just went back to my old minimum wage job. I wouldn't even mind all of that if I had traded society's idea of "successful" for a life full of excitement and adventure. I would be totally okay with being single and broke forever if I was having fun with it, or doing things that I felt were important, or going interesting places, or having incredible experiences. Unfortunately I pretty much just traded society's idea of "successful" for my own idea of "pathetic". "Oh, you have a house and a husband and three kids? Well, I.... ummmm write a blog."

I Don't Know Why

I have this inherent need to feel tough all the time. I was thinking today about some of the things I do to make myself feel like a badass. Then I thought "You know what? It's been too long since I posted a completely pointless list!" So here you go.

1. Drink black coffee. I don't know exactly why this makes me feel tough, but it does. Back when I was at WVU, drinking 151 had a similar effect. 

2. Refuse to sleep in, even when I don't have anything to do. 

3. Wear basically the same clothes whether it's 15 degrees or 98 degrees outside. 

4. Make myself do every exercise on on the DVD just a little more intensely than they tell me to. 

5. Carry furniture at work every chance I get. 

6. Occasionally challenge myself by eating food that is hotter than even I like it. Those who know me can tell you that is pretty fucking hot. 

7. Refuse to show most emotions. 

8. Constantly try to do things that I was previously unable to do. (Currently, I'm working on pull-ups)

9. Refuse to treat wounds, even though this results is nasty looking scars from unimpressive injuries. 

10. Never show fear; not during scary movies, not that time I went to Fright Farm, not when people intentionally try to scare me, not when I got threatened by Ed the Brahma bull. 

I had intended to go with the classic version of this, with Neil deGrasse Tyson. However, this owl looks totally unimpressed, and I thought that was more appropriate. 

Sexy Strings

Back when I was, I think, eight years old I played the violin. I really enjoyed it for a while but then I got bored, as I tend to do with everything, and gave it up. Recently, I have found myself wishing that I had stuck with it. Imagine how good I could be at it by now. Plus I have seem to have developed an affinity for the sound of stringed instruments. I started watching Angel and I LOVE the music at the beginning, which is mostly cello. Also, I found this girl who is fucking amazing! 

                                          

Remember That Thing That Seemed Really Cool and Then Ended Up Being Terrible?

Back when I was going to WVU, I used to listen to music all the time. I had all this great music on my computer and I would pretty much hide in my room and listen to it, instead of interacting with my roommates. I feel like since then I haven't been listening to very much music, and I miss it. My taste used to be really varied and I feel like now I listen to the same two or three bands all the time. Most of the reason I had such a large collection back at WVU was because I had just discovered LimeWire. Does anyone even remember that? I think it was around for a few months before everyone realized that it was eating their computers, which is what happened to mine by the way. Back then I fucking loved it though! I could find pretty much any song I could imagine, even though I liked a lot of really weird, obscure stuff. I also had a ton of classic rock and I had forgotten how much I love it. I actually have Supernatural to thank for reminding me how great classic rock is. I just might make a lists of all the amazing songs that show has introduced (or reintroduced) me to for tomorrow's post.

I Mean Come On.

In my literature class we're currently reading Hamlet. The professor told us that, over the weekend, she wanted us to watch two different versions of the "To be or not to be" scene on youtube, compare them and see which one we liked best. One was with Kenneth Branaugh the other was........... David Tennant! That's right, the tenth Doctor himself. I watched then anyway, but there was really no need. Which one is better? What an absurd question. Who could be better than this guy.

Also, Rachel, remember when our Shakespeare class did Hamlet and I got to do a truly pathetic death scene and you got to cry over me? "The drink! I am poisoned!" (collapse awkwardly on the floor).  

Someday We'll Look Back on This and Laugh

It's funny how events tend to lose their emotional charge over time. Actually no wait, it's not funny, it's dangerous, or at least it is for me. My ability to remember what happened, but inability to remember how I felt about it, has caused me to repeat past mistakes on multiple occasions. I look back on my past and think that it seems good, or at least better than what I'm doing now. I have done this with, almost, every job I've ever had and I do it A LOT when I think about when I lived in Morgantown. I think "I had friends" "I had things to do" "I went to parties" but I can never remember exactly how I felt. I know I was really unhappy. I remember that, but I can't feel it, so I can't remember why. It seems like I should have been having the time of my life, but I know I wasn't. How am I ever supposed to know if I'm making progress in my life or not if I always think the past was better than the present?