Once again, with purpose.

Maybe it's vain to think that everything you do needs to have some significance. I mean, I know that's not the case. But I hate to think that I'm just circulating words in an attempt to validate myself. I want there to be a purpose to this. I'm tired of just rambling. I want to help. Or educate. Or something.

b

june, and i think about my birthday.
the end of school, the death cab t-shirt i wore to bits.
walking. everywhere.
plaid dresses, bare feet, and sharpied canvas.
raspberries in my backyard and the
swing set that became our fortress.
trips to cumberland farms and
sitting at the station. i love everything about trains.
the night we spent on the roof
of our dilapidated mini van.
(rain collects in the dent these days)
the trees and the stars, with the moon in the swimming pool.
much too much flour in those god-awful cookies that
we ate anyway, because the sun was coming up and why not.
sunshine meant we slept in the attic.
we lived in the canopy and
came down only for ice pops.
and these were the edges of our world.

june, and i think about my birthday.
the first two hours spent begging, my fingernails bitten clean off.
pacing. frantically.
cigarettes in my backyard and the
trampoline that became my sanctuary.
there was really no point in walking to the station.
there was no one who’d sit with me, anyway.
being driven to extremes i didn’t know i had.
(and the people unequipped to see me driven there)
the eerie solace that comes with total surrender.
insomnia-bred self-destruction.
gender and how it bends to please.
experimentation in every sense of the word.
learning what it meant to be filthy.
phone calls from you, from somewhere far away.
and hating myself the whole time.
losing everything i had – making do with what was left.
and these were the edges of our world.

june, and i think about my birthday.
it’ll be the second one without you, you know.
postpone the celebration, i’ll say, there’s something wrong here.
prospects of my summer and i shudder just a bit.
stability is nothing to count on - we know that.
and the words that haunt me rattle in my heart
like ghosts i see but don’t believe in.
stupid decisions and stupider lies.
this was never supposed to happen.
my habits are less respectable now,
and you're making artistic advances.
i’m not very worried, though;
we still have plans for san francisco.
there are states between us, and they feel like oceans.
i don’t have a backyard or a swimming pool or raspberries to offer.
but a simple song was all you ever wanted anyway.
so i’ll serenade you softly, sheepishly upon your return.
(you were always the better singer)
and pray to whatever deity it takes
that you’ll never disappear again.
because that’s what it means to be us,
and these are the edges of our world.

Kids these days.

[21:36] itsrainingwords: i've gotten really good at taking care of myself, rio.
[21:37] starox18: yeah.
[21:38] itsrainingwords: and i'm so used to it..... it doesn't phase me.
[21:38] starox18: it should
[21:38] starox18: everything should
[21:38] starox18: you are young
[21:38] starox18: and you won't always be
[21:38] itsrainingwords: yeah, i'm young.
[21:39] itsrainingwords: but i'm the kind of young that had to/has to be able to be not-so-young. but i'm not so old that i don't appreciate my youth.
[21:40] itsrainingwords: like i told you, i just think about that night in august running around completely naked with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other.... and i know that will never be as special as it was.... because i'll never be young enough to appreciate it like that again.
[21:41] starox18: no, you're cynical and you make me want to forcefeed you the little mermaid and twilight and fortune cookies until you think cigarettes are icky and fucked up people aren't really real and sex is something that happens with tru wuv vampire abortion style and you're never going to be that person because you never were
[21:41] starox18: and beer is usually untasty
[21:42] starox18: but cigarettes aren't, and you already know that, and it makes me sad for every child who will never be a child
[21:42] itsrainingwords: believe it or not, there was a time when i was innocent, when i was a kid. it just didn't last as long as it could/should/might have.
[21:42] starox18: and everyone has to grow up sometime but it's not usually over one year
[21:42] starox18: or one month
[21:43] starox18: or one godawful winter where the sun sets at 4 and rises at 8 and it's always dark and you're always miserable
[21:43] starox18: and you come home to realize everyone your own age is twenty years younger
[21:43] starox18: and everything happens all at once
[21:43] starox18: and you fucked up so badly
[21:43] starox18: and you'll never get it back again
[21:44] starox18: and now you're paying for it and you didn't even do that much wrong but no one gives a shit
[21:44] starox18: and everyone is not seeing
[21:44] starox18: and not caring
[21:45] starox18: and you realize that you're fucked up, you're a psa, a pamphlet, a paragraph in a psyche book
[21:45] starox18: and you can't do anything about it
[21:45] starox18: you're fucked up
[21:45] itsrainingwords: way to make me feel like something that isn't a person.
[21:46] starox18: i'm sorry
[21:46] starox18: i'm not really talking to you anymore
[21:46] itsrainingwords: who are you talking to?
[21:49] starox18: it's not really not caring if nobody knows
[21:50] starox18: myself
[21:50] itsrainingwords: i kind of got that feeling.
[21:50] itsrainingwords: but it all still hurts.

Reactivate?

I never update this thing. I don't have a reason to. Few people know it exists. Fewer people care that it exists. Even fewer people would read it. But maybe that's not the motivation. Maybe the motivation is knowing that your words are out there for anyone connected to the internet to read. Maybe I just like knowing that there's the possibility that something I say will mean something to someone - whether I know them or not.

But I don't think I need this blog to do that. I don't know that I ever did. (I could elaborate, but I think I want to leave it to you to determine the significance.)

Wait... they don't love you like I love you.

That's really all I wanted to say. That and, "I'm sorry." Because I am. I'm so sorry.

PS. I dreamt about you again last night. We were on a cliff. It was raining. I miss you.

Last week I had the strangest dream, where everything was exactly how it seemed.

I'm sort of just drifting right now. Drifting away, drifting through, drifting around. I'm not sure. Just... drifting. It's hard to thrive while simultaneously trying to pick up the pieces of something once familiar. Nothing seems to fit anymore. It's all awkward. Chaos still exists, but it's the kind of chaos that induces suffering, not insanity. I don't like it. People I love have been removed from my life. In one way or another I've lost a lover, a best friend, a parent, and a relationship I never wanted to let go of in the first place. Standing alone is scary, but maybe it's necessary. I'm sorry. It wasn't supposed to happen this way.

Alive.

I fucking hate these essays... but this is the truest one I've ever written:

I’m really not a fan of trying to predict where I’ll be five, ten, fifteen years from now. It’s not that I think it’s a bad idea to have goals and plans… it’s just that I don’t live my life that way. I haven’t known stability in so long that it’s almost uncomfortable to consider mapping out my journey years in advance. Things going how they’re supposed to is nearly foreign to me. Chaos and spontaneity tend to rule my days. Very rarely are there constants in my world. (And when there are, I savor that taste of normalcy.) But hey, that’s all still happening.

In all honesty, I have no idea what the future holds for me. I can’t say that I’m sure I want to get married or have kids. I have no idea what I want to do for a living. I do know, however, that I never want to be living a life where I’m not helping people. Throughout my fifteen-or-so years of existence I have always tried to make the world a better place. I want to be somewhere I can promote tolerance. That’s something that’s really important to me: unconditional acceptance.

I want to be independent. I want to be able to support myself, but I don’t want to forget the people that have supported me this far. I think I want to go to college. I want that experience and that further education. I want to have a source of income; preferably one I enjoy working for. I love words and people – I want to incorporate that in whatever sort of career I end up pursuing. I want to be healthy. That means going back to veganism and keeping with the kickboxing and yoga. I hope to have shared my art and writing with more people. I’d like to have animals. I was never really allowed to have pets in my parents’ home. If I can’t care for them myself, I want to find another way to make them a part of my life. I want to (continue to) be mindful of my surroundings and do as much as I can to respect nature. Music will still fuel my being.

I hope I can still find beauty in everything. I try very hard never to take anything for granted. My sense of appreciation is a huge part of how I make my way through this world. I live for moments and hold fast to memories. If and when I get old, I plan on having plenty of things to look back on and smile at. I want to always be aware (and sometimes prudent), but move fearlessly. I never want to stop being crazy. I want to remain “all over the board” and reside at every end of any spectrum I could possibly be measured against. I want to banish quantitative and relish adjectives. I’m going to keep my strength.

I don’t know where on this planet I’ll be ten years from now, but I know who I will be. My humor will keep me from crying when laughing is better suited. My friends will let me cry when there’s nothing left to do. I will sing and dance with as little reservation as I have today. I will love openly and create passionately. Perseverance will get me through the times I’d rather be asleep. I will look at the world and breathe in its magnificence. I will look at the world and do what I can to end the pain. People will still have reason to call me an old soul and a free spirit. I will be who I am and never wish to be anything else. That… that is all I can tell you.