simple.

Rainy day-
wasting away.
Seashells on the beach
have never sung so sweet.
Pressed against your ear
passing cars are all you hear.

The Invitation

As the state lines grow farther

I think of you still--

Like how we walked

Amongst Autumn's dusty gravestones

Not noticing

The soft reminders

Of Winter's inevitable chill.

where the trees lean: written 12-28-08

It's eerie how you can be a main part of someones life for such a long time, and by being a part I mean like being a part of the group that the said person defines themselves by, to almost being a stranger- an acquaintance.
For me, High School was very easy because I felt like I was a part of something bigger than myself. I was a "part" of this weird relationship between my class, we had each other and that was all really. Now, we've all gone our separate ways and met new people. We are no longer this group of one, but a group torn at the seams, split apart and shared with the rest of the world.

Our society pressures change so much, pressures traveling, moving, leaving.
But whats so wrong with staying put?
What is life without a place that I can call "my place."
Where do I turn when I no longer know who "my people" are?

One thing that I've been thinking about lately is energy.
Every person gives off energy, but whats really interesting is when one persons energy interacts with another.
What makes a person more attracted to person A than person B? Sure, looks come into play, obviously- but theres more. Its how their energy relates and responds. Its how they connect.
I believe that when it comes to friendships, love and all other relationships- its all a give and take of energy.

I remember walking through the Deerfield fair one year, keeping to myself, but simply watching. People are so intriguing. I always want to know more.
Anyways, as I was walking through a crowd of people, I look up and lock eyes with this boy. In that moment, our "energies" reacted, we connected, we had a spiritual interaction. It was such a short moment, but its something i'll always remember.

You're probably thinking "he probably just thought you were hot" or something similar. But I'll tell you all something really creepy that you'll probably never believe.
On the drive home from the fair, I stared into outer space from behind the dirty glass window and hoped that I would see that boy again. A little more than a month later, he found me on myspace. (weird, right?)
Turns out, he was a good friend of an ex-boyfriend of mine.
He asked me who I was and brought up that moment we locked eyes.
After a short conversation about who we both were, where we came from, etc. We never spoke again. I can't even remember his name, truthfully.
But thats how life goes, I guess.
One moment makes such a difference, and can alter so much.

Its all about moments, these chunks of time.

I think that this is why I was drawn to photography so much.
I want to capture these fleeting moments so desperately.
Each experience I have, is once in a lifetime.
With my camera, I, in essence, trap a piece of time.
You can travel back in time with a photograph.

I don't really know where I'm going with this- and I've been trying to spit this out for so long.

I'm just ready to move on, I'm ready to be happy, I'm ready for the new year. I'd like to find a place to bury my roots, I'd like to rediscover these lost relationships with friends.

Who am I, really?

written: 1-27-09

I often find myself wishing that my family from the past (my ancestors, basically) would have left behind journals, pictures, letters or anything that I could discover.

I have over five journals dating from seventh grade to the present. I've had a (well, numerous ones)livejournal for the last five years, and have posted at least a thousand entries of me pouring my heart out. One thing that bothers me, however, is the barrier between my thoughts and the computer screen. Writing is natural. There is no space between your mind and the page. With a computer on the other hand, its like there's a filter between the thoughts in your head and what comes out onto the screen. I'm not sure if that even makes any sense. Whatever.

Energy cannot be created or destroyed, right? Well in my belief, neither can words or thoughts. My words are the only things that I truly own, the same goes for you and yours. When we ~think~ of something, our thoughts become energy. This energy joins one big pool of consciousness and minds. Like when scientists make a discovery and soon after many other scientists end up discovering the same thing. The discovery, the thought, created an energy that leaked into the collective consciousness and other people tapped into that.

When we die, do our thoughts die with us? Or do they remain in the "thought pool" for eternity. Say there was no written record of, for example, Plato's thoughts. Would the energy those thoughts gave off in the past still exist in the present or would they have needed to be ~re thought~ by someone else.

I dont really know what I'm saying, this is just a ramble I guess. But all I know is, I do not want my thoughts to lie in the grave with me. So here and now, I pass them onto you. Do with them what you will.

But, really, who am I to believe that my thoughts or my words or anything about me should live on after I die? I don't KNOW anything. All I have are some simple beliefs, thoughts and ideas.

Tis all.

I've always had a hard time letting go.

There's something insanely beautiful about pure human emotion.

...sometimes I wonder if my mother feels the same way about the wind as I do.

silly, silly.

Everything was still. Everything was still. Everything is still.
My hair is warm and it heats my face
As the yellow sun shines down and blankets my pale skin.
A puddle of water at the bottom of the hill I rest on is illuminated;
Mirrors in the grass.

The leaves on the trees dance contently with the wind.
The branches, wanting not to feel left out, join in on the dance.
Its a tango.
The world is so big and I am so small.
I'd dance with the trees, but they're far too tall.