Saturday, January 28, 2012

Things of Matter

I guess it's a bloggy day.
The sun hasn't shone in what seems like 54 days.
I guess my letter to the abyss of cyberland will suffice as a salutation.

Hello, world of microchips and electric pathways with no capability of human emotion.

You know those moments when you realize that maybe the online world could possibly be taking over the reasoning powers of the human mind? And that the world will probably die online. Each individual person will be sitting at a computer talking to somebody else on a computer, the blaring screen would be the last light before the "big light" and that the cheeto-infested keyboard you have at your finger tips would be the closest thing to human contact you will have had in a year before you expired?

Yes. Those moment are festering inside my brain as of now. Morbid. I know.


From my readings of Twitter, Facebook, and Bloggerworld, this is the feeling I got whilst reading.
Really.

The winter funk is in full swing.  I truly, almost forgot about its viral hands choking the life and hope out of everyone until I got onto all my life-sucking social net-working sites and was reminded of it's pitiful existence.







This is an address to all my saddened friends out there:

Don't give up. Please. For the love.

I'm going to remind you of summer.

I'm going to remind you of how you were when the sun shines. How you ARE.

YOU are still alive. Do you know what being alive means? Truly? Do you know what it means to flail your arms and jump as high as you can and spin around until you're dizzy with giddy laughter?
 Do you know what it means to rhyme as many words as you can without stopping or try to make the best rap of all time for no reason at all even though it's horrible?
Do you know what it means to read the most incredible books and realize that your character identifies with all the other characters? Do you know what it means to laugh so hard that you feel your insides will erupt and your abs contract with so much effort you feel your neck swell up and your eyes gush with water?
Yes.
You do.
You know how to live.
You know how to be you.


Remember? Do you remember how to breathe with the full intent of carrying oxygen to your brain?
Do you remember how to breathe with the full intent of living?
Do you remember how to walk with the intent of showing up at a place?
Do you remember how to run with the full intent of stretching and jolting your muscles and burning and pushing your will power to see how far it can go just to be able to scream at the top of your lungs, "I am existing as hard as I can!?"


Yes. I think you can. But you have to try.

It's easy to let yourself slide into the abyss. It's so simple. Because it's pulling you in. It's everywhere. It has no shape or form or physical faculty, but it's very real and very strong.


You must remember how to consciously acknowledge your own worth. How to remind yourself of your independency of external conditioners.

Remember to place your dependency on things that truly matter.

The thing about "things that matter" is that the word "matter" is the point, the pinnacle of the phrase.


Matter is "that which occupies space and possesses rest mass." Matter is rock. Matter is something that has volume, occupies the void, can neither be created nor destroyed kind of matter. 
Matter has weight. 
Matter has resolution. 
Matter cannot die, it simply exists. 
Matter is not something that is debated, or something to spur arguments. 
There is no such thing as an opinion about matter. 

It is resolute. It is infinite. 

Matter is reality. 

In terms of our spirits, matter is pinnacle because matter can never falter. The things that matter are those things that act as matter. The things that give matter in the physical sense a backbone.

Today, I felt a choral cry-out for help coming from the masses. An enormous wave of the lost and petrified.

There is no need, friends. No need to weep.

You only have need to be afraid if you let that fear grip you, if you let that sorrow choke you. But worse, if you let that abyss walk side by side with you. If you let entropy take its course and run you over. If you allow what the world says you should want to come in to the homes of your hearts and sit with it over tea. Because what the world says you should want is something unreal. Un-matter. 

Find the things that matter, friends. No. Remember them.

They're inside you. They're right there. Remember the things that will last and the things that are actually in your hands and in your hearts right at this moment. 

Because everything you have and need to be happy, truly joyful is right with you. You have the power. You have the capability. You have resources. You have friends. Family. Life. Love. Yourself. God.

Remind yourself to live today.

Saturday, December 24, 2011

Today, as I'm sitting here comfortably and guiltily in Shelbie's Georgetown sweatshirt I swore I couldn't find in my house for a full year.... I have thought much about that love thing she just so recently posted.

She's right.

We all want it.

.... And this time of year makes people CRAZY. Seriously. Mentally ill.

I guess Christmas at our age has less to do with family these days and more to do with romance. I don't know who it was that got that magic-must-find-someone-to-snowball-with-at-the-Gallivan-Center ball rolling.
But they're mean and conniving.
They probably started out at Hallmark.



So here is today. A sad excuse to stay inside.

Partially because it's Christmas Eve. Partially because walking out that door would constitute de-uglifying myself in a poor attempt to contain the stench emanating from my scalp.

That was disgusting. Don't re-read that.

Anyways.

I'm just talking about nothing today.
As usual.


I'm a stupid girl. I have joined the girl world officially.
Complete with violent hitting, over-developed sensitivity to anger, and a constant array of screaming.

I hate myself.

If this goes on for much longer I'm going to have to ask one of you to kindly take a shovel to my forehead.

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Behold, The Break of All Breaks Hath Begun





HOME.

Duh. Obviously, the best word in the human language.

You know that whole "home is where the heart is" crap?....

Well.... It's true.




 — Now that I've moved out and have detached myself from the house where I grew up, I no longer feel the boiling aversion to the idea of moving. (the subject is always a talked about one in my family, do not be alarmed, it wouldn't happen overnight)

I just realized I want to be with my sisters and mom all the day long.


And by all the day long, I mean, ... not all the day long, just, part of it. let's be real, I love em, but not that much. Only <—> that much.

>:)




And I also realized that Provo is also my home.

Because.



I decided to go back to the apartment last night with Mal.... where there was nothing but empty space. The roommates were departed. The vacancy was so thick, you could cut it with an clichéd knife.



OF course, I first got in, peeped around the corner, and tentatively placed my ear to the door leading to Sade's room.... (fear pounding in my chest because heaven knows if I woke her up that would be the end of my existence... (jklolzcatz, Sade (: )) However, the fear quickly crumbled to sad when I finally got the courage up to open her door just to close it again; the sight vanishing, along with my hopes and dreams of my favorite blondie roommate being there.

And the top bunk of my room was full of nothing but Jane's forrest green cover and the classic Fuzzy Blue blanky and some dirty footprints on the wall.



Mleh. Sucky.

So. This brings us to now.

I'm glad I'm back in my house. Just because, I have my secret, other family here.

I miss my roommies.



I hope they're having a holly freaking jolly break.









Anyhways.

What else is new? Nothing. Uncle Bob, the Floridian called. Along with the whole Other Kokol family. They're weird. I think I love them.

The sisters and I decorated our house. ("Finally," you may scoff.)

We also decided that themed Christmases are never us. We're the sort who pick out literally the most random items ever you will find and place them haphazardly on the tree.

(The tree, mind you, that was left on our doorstep a couple days ago.
Yeah.
We didn't even have a tree until the kindest neighbors in the world dug up the few remaining scraps of patience for the Utah Kokol family down the street and help a brotha out by chopping us down a tree.)


I think I'm smothering everyone out of cyber breath. No more words. But here are some Pictures:)! :


Santa's Little Helper...





May Your Stockings be as Full as a Pregnant Octomom.


P.S. Of course I didn't forget. Happy Hanukkah, everyone :) Elohim bless us, everyone.

Saturday, December 10, 2011

From the people who brought you finals week.

Seriously? An entire week dedicated to being kicked in the face?
Finals week isn't even over yet, and I'm "done."

One more, and I'll rage. Jokes. I have four more.

What am I even saying right now?

It's too early in the morning.

This post is completely irrelevant to the lives of many. Don't read it.

Buttttttttt, I feel totally awesome!



1 week ago today, The dawning of a melodramatic and frankly, quite clichéd day of my life has begun!

WHy?
Just because I decided it would.

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


I realize now that I'm girly-er than I previously presumed of myself.

The other day, me and the roommies (Janethon and Saders) watched A Walk To Remember.
Uh.
I didn't have to take a walk to Remember how FREAKING sad that movie is.
(try not to laugh at my strategically placed play-on words.)


Tears?
Really?
no.

Sobbing, full blown.

I want another one like that. Any suggestions?

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Hank

At times I battle the urge to speak things that should remain unmentioned.

This is probably a follow up of my previous post without me meaning to... but, I guess my life is more like a series of themes and literary devices. (Fitting, since I'm a European Studies major...)

I keep forgetting that I'm NOT allowed to just say "hey. I'm a little miffed that you're dating her, when you should be dating me."

This is so awkward. And I mean it in every sense of the word.
Truly.


Gotta love friends.... So. Anyway.

I'm so ... what's the word... Thankful that Thanksgiving was just barely.
... No school for 5 whole days.


Let me re-iterate:
I didn't have to watch my mouth for 5 whole days.

It's great to be home.

Also:

I made Thanksgiving.



made it.

created it.

manhandled the turkey.


Does anybody comprehend the feat I have just accomplished? NO? remember the days when I literally lived off cereal. Literally. and Figuratively?

Gah... those were the days....

but now that I've proven my self capable of culinary competence, I can no longer return to the care-free and responsibility-vacant, nomadic nutritional lifestyle that once dominated my decisions in meals.

My mom is convinced I shall one day return to the land of the aprons...

Also known as Christmas dinner.

Heaven Help me.


What's worse:?!:
I kinda liked it.
Why didn't I take a picture of that moment in the sink when I harassed the innards out of that turkey (whom I dubbed Hank.... "Hanksgiving." haw haw New Girl Joke)


So sweeeeeettttt.


ALL day slaving away!


I'm at a fork in the road between deciding that I'm being manipulated into the life of cooking or... if I'm just happy to bike down the path of it.


Whatever.

Peace yo. :)

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Pragtical.



I want to walk up to a sculpture and not just say "Is that Salvador Dalí?" What I really want to say is: "I'm quite certain that the man who created this was named Salvador Domènec Felip Jacint Dalí i Domènech, Marquis de Púbol. I want you to tell me that I'm right, and If I'm right, I want you to be impressed with my knowledge of art."


...


I wonder what people would do.



How would we begin to treat each other if everyone did that. If people said not only exactly what they meant, but what they expected to take place after they said it.


What would people do if intent was completely transparent?


Completely Honest.?


But no, we simply ask in hopeful, and quite frankly, apologetic tones to get the affirmation we seek.


Like whispering at a door for its admittance, instead of just knocking.

Saturday, October 29, 2011


Saturday mornings are always intended for action and adventure and copious amounts of awesomeness.

Saturday mornings, without fail, always end up being nothing but a long 53 hour break on the couch after an arduous night of sleeping. The only thing copiously awesome about today was flirting with the cash register guy.
In my pajamas.