Confusion of the heart

There are moments when I find myself caught in the cross fire between my heart and my head. I often cant decided weather or not I should listen to the voices in my head telling me what to do, or my heart guiding me in in the direction of possible heart break. I want to follow the direction of my heart, but my head always stops me and poses the question of “what if”

So now when my mind is blank, the thought of the matter at hand will cross my previously calm mind. And suddenly, there’s a sense of panic that overtakes me and I feel uneasy. As if I am stuck with a decision that for one reason or another, my mind can not physically comprehend because my heart will still get in the way.

One way or another, my heart and mind play tricks on each other, but both only have the best of intensions for my own happiness. So there lies the conflict, when is it that I listen to my head, and when do I listen to my heart?

Is it worth the minor lapses of fear and judgment for potential happiness? Or is it that I should disregard both and simply try and play it safe.

Even that question is too grand to answer for myself. So I still remain to question decisions, or simply protect myself from a risk just to avoid the confusion of my heart. I consistently bombard myself with the age old question of “what if?”

But maybe someday, I will listen to the deep feelings being stirred in my heart and follow that, for it could lead me to my greatest potential happiness. Maybe I will rebut the question of “what if?” with “why not?”.

photo credit: https://allpoetry.com/

a diary from isolation

White pillowy clouds and pink petals on the warm brick as the sun beats down is her back drop,
As she rattles on about the corrupt world filled with 
a dark persistence.

/ / / 

Its been seventeen days, four-hundred and eight hours in this house and its been miserable.

The anger, the loneliness, and the disconnect are empty feelings that course through my veins on a loop as I try to navigate life.

I miss them. I miss their laughter and smiles. I miss their clothes. I miss their smell.

My tears burned my cheeks at 11pm. It was the first time I cried. It was the first time I felt completely unsafe and scared.

My body aches for human contact.

photo credit: pinterest.com

/ / /

As a daughter, I go through moments of my life where I don’t see eye to eye with my mother. And I thinks that’s true for most mother-daughter relationships.

The passive comments, the snarky looks, the aggressive sighs; They never fail me when I’m in the middle of a petty argument with her.

I find myself picking on her, never giving her a break, and trying to erase her imperfections like the comfort she finds in rubbing my ears or clenching her jaw when she is stressed.

But earlier today, I found myself rubbing my own ears and snuggling into her neck when I felt alone. I find myself having her mannerisms and saying the things that when she says them, it irritates me. We come from the same branch at the end of the day.

Her and I, 
We come from the same branch at the end of the day. 

/ / /

I was staring at my wall today, full of photos from the past four years. 
The color from Utah, 
The smiles from my girls who know me best,
To the heat of a concert and 
The breeze from the beach. 
I felt warm inside looking at the 
Blue and Orange hues
Only to realize the cold reality. 

Wandering

Let me be your beacon,

let me be your guiding light.

I know you’re scared, tired, and broken,

but I’m here to hold you tight.

I know you hide your fears from me,

you get ashamed when you let them show,

but babe,

I’ve cried in your arms many times,

so please just let me know

what’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours,

your wicked, twisted, brain

filled with lies and awful times,

but babe let me be your change.

I just want to love you,

you’ve been through so god damn much,

your beautiful soul deserves the world you know,

I wish you thought the same.

I’m sorry for everyone who hurt you,

you’re scared to let me in because you fear I’ll do the same.

Everyone you’ve loved has done you wrong,

but darling I’m not the same.

So let me be your beacon,

let me be your guiding light.

I know you’re scared, tired, and broken,

but I’m here to hold you tight.

Photo via: searchengineland.com

that’ll be it

I’m graduating in less than 18 weeks. 18 weeks seem like a long time, but, when I think about all the things I will be doing from now until may 31st, it suddenly isn’t that far away anymore.

I haven’t gotten a single college acceptance yet. I haven’t gotten rejected, either, but that only means that I’m just as far away from knowing where I want to go next year as I was two months ago.

Photo Credit: ocregister.com

In a few weeks, I’ll be performing in my last ever musical here. I’ll be going on my last ever ski trip with this school. I’ll be going to my last ever prom, probably without a date. I’ll be playing at my last ever talent show (with no talent, still), and I’ll be going to my last ever OVS graduation, but this time it’s mine.

I’ll be walking down the stairs, sit lined up with my classmates on stage, get my diploma, and then that’s it. That’ll be the end of my past four years that were such an important chapter in my life and that contributed to so much of my personality. That’ll be it.

But, before that happens, there are so many more weekends to spend watching movies in the lounge, many more camp trips to go on and freeze my a** off, many more mental breakdowns over tests and AP’s to endure, horse shows to go on, story deadlines to miss, town trips to spend at Bliss getting frozen yogurt, sunsets to watch from the soccer field, and memories to make.

I won’t lie and say that this school and my life here is perfect. There are many things that I would like to change, but I don’t want to get into that now. Because there are so many more things that I am thankful for. Again, my time here hasn’t been perfect, but it’s been amazing. And in 18 weeks, it’ll be over, that’ll be it. And then, it’s time for another chapter.

 

Welcome to My Mind

Welcome, close the door behind you if you would.

Sit down or look around, do as you please, but don’t break anything. Welcome to my mind. I haven’t let many people in here, in fact, only about three, but I don’t want to get into that for now.

This is a quiet place with music you can hear. It’s colorful, mainly with primary colors, aside from the green swooshes that you see flying through at times. That’s my creativity and it usually comes and goes.

Photo Credit: ink361.com

Over here is my bookshelf. You know, I don’t really like to read, I much rather make up stories of my own. God, look how many I’ve written so far! They’re all in here, of course, never on paper. It would probably be a waste of paper, if I’m being real.

Over here is my picture wall. As you can see, it is almost entirely filled up with dogs (they just make for the best pictures). And my friends, of course, all of them or most of them. The good ones, that are still in my life today. The other ones, I threw out. But the good ones, I’ll keep forever.

Oh, don’t look behind that door; that’s where I keep the things I don’t wanna be reminded of. Most of them are just plain embarrassing, but some of them are sad. Well, I have a couple of sad pictures on the wall still, but I think I’ll take them down soon.

And there, in this cabinet, is my motivation. Not much in there, I know, but the stuff that’s in there is good. You’ll see.

Down here, underneath this trap door, of course, are my fears. Please, don’t open it. I’m not in the mood to get them back in there again. Sometimes one of them pop out to say hi and make me worry about stuff, but usually they’re fine down there.

And here, this I’m especially proud of. This is my love. It looks like a pot of flowers, but it’s a lot better because I don’t think it could ever die. If it can, I don’t want to be alive to see it.

You can stay if you want; you can always come back, too. I hope I gave you a good tour and I’m glad you stopped by. Goodbye for now! Hope I’ll get to visit yours too sometime.

A Casual Sunday Morning

I open my eyes and find myself lying on the blanket in a very uncomfortable position. My laptop is still open, and my phone is on the floor with its screen cracked.

I pick up my phone and slowly slip under the blanket like a lazy caterpillar, and my phone drops again as I wiggle.

I turn my body toward the wall, and there’s a soft brown marmot from the Yosemite Visitor Center. I feel its fur with my face and turn my body back toward the ceiling.

Spacing out, I find a dot on the corner of the ceiling. It is so tiny, I never saw it before although it is right above where I usually place my head.

For some reason I stare at the dot for a while. Then I start seeing some lines around it. The lines are so thin they are almost invisible.

My curiosity defeats my laziness. I get up, stand on the bed, look closely at the corner of the ceiling, and suddenly sit down with horror.

The dot is not on the ceiling; it is in the air. the lines around the dot are not one-dimensional. They are all bent. The dot is a spider hanging from its web.

I silently but quickly get away from the dot and stay scared all day.