Day of the V

I find that my procrastinatory skill is directly proportional to the frequency of my blog posts.

I don't want to go to school today. At all.

So. Here I am, making weird faces at myself in the mirror one minute and having intellectual/highly wrathful albeit imaginary conversations with people the next.

Oh... to be young and schizophrenic.

Anyway.
It's V-Day.
And you know what THAT means!
A thanksgiving day full of angry-yelling, eye-rolling, and anti-love-picture-making emos who are basically just embarrassingly cliché.

Unfortunately, I will not grace you with my appreciation of that sort.

I love Valentimes Day.

I don't know why, really.

It might have been that I was conditioned to liking it after all those years of artistic box-making in K-6... We got CANDY.
I think my subconscious mind still expects it or something.

But really. I do love this day. I think it's adorable. I get so happy for everyone. So many splashes of red across campus. A few black-clad stragglers. It's awesome.
An entire day, every year, to show that one person how much you love them and are willing to spend buckets of monies to prove it??
Romantic.

Gah.

I wish people felt love more often. It's such a nice feeling.

Sometimes the Blues is just a Passing Bird

I’m just a dreamer but I’m hanging on
Though I have nothing big to offer
I watch the birds, how they dive in, then gone
It’s like nothing in this world’s ever still

-Tallest Man on Earth








I can't seem to find it. 
Balance, I mean.


My attempt at soaring is beginning to dwindle due to the fact that I don't actually have any wings.


Sometimes I fear I will be unsuccessful and becoming the truest I can be.


I have a sinking feeling it will not be in this lifetime.


And yet my heart still tries.


One thing I know for a certainty, is that no matter what I say, I will never be able to resist my own inclinations to live. I can't stop. I can't stop the muscles in my body to move. I can't stop the sparks of recognition in my brain to electrify. I can't stop the yearning in my heart for reality.

I can't stop searching for the best plan of action to take.


What I really am saying is... I still care about my people.
I don't know how to be and not offend.
I don't know how to live and not push those I love most away.
I don't KNOW anything.


I am surviving on hope that they will come back to the light. Come back to love. Come back to the very thing I use to believe that they will.

In my mind, Truth is what sets us free. Every good thing is a manifestation of truth's existence.
Faith
Hope
Laughter
Love

My truth for them is not enough. My faith, my hope, my laughter, my love.... It's never enough because they don't truly want it.

It's amazing what your heart will do to your mind when you let it settle on something.
It's equally amazing that we have power enough to decide where we want it to settle.

The Wrong Way

I look at life the wrong way.
Not that there is a right way... but there are definitely wrong ways.

Sometimes, as I get into my darkly cyclical thought processes that we all create in our minds, I feel pure frustration with myself.
I'm frustrated that at the end of a previous intense modification of "way of life," I seem to come to a conclusion.
And then I end up right back where I started- questioning, doubting, yelling, not understanding, not clicking.

I can't seem to keep myself at a constant level of understanding with my life and love and friends and family and God and religion. I can't stay calm, as if chaos is inevitable.

Entropy?

But today, I realized that I needed to do some meta-cognition. How do I approach my own thought?

I go into my own thinking with an expectation that I WILL be happy, I WILL understand, I WILL work the puzzles of life out in my mind.

Of course, those notions fail.

Because the human mind in all its glory is curious and suspicious and ambitious.

It is beautiful.

And that is where I should get back to. The fact that I have crazy ideas, ideas that I pull and scrape and claw at for days at a time is beauty in and of itself. The fact that I can think at all must be some work of art....

Those dark cycles we get in? Take a step back. Look at it for what it is? A mind. Trying to unravel itself while keeping the structure of sanity intact.

Frustration is an intrigue by nature.
The attempt for comprehension is valiant on its own.

My wrong thinking resides in how I feel about my thinking.
Here's one correct way of thinking:

Be okay with it. 

Use the power of curiosity and intrigue to take allow in yourself a quiet peace of mind.
oh? (What? There's a choice in that too?)

Maybe that's where true happiness is found: in the quiet acceptance of one's own mind.

 The calm realization that your mind has reigns, and you are holding them. That sometimes your mind gets spooked, excited, curious, or hungry... Your mind has natural, regular, possibly dark tendencies... but you can lead it where you want IF you want.


It's weird to think that we usually get answers... The trouble is accepting them or not.

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.

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.

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.

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?