Saturday, April 5, 2008

you can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles

The birds still sing at seven in California.
The birds still sing at seven in California.
The birds still sing at seven in California.

I don't know why, but I kept repeating this sentence in my mind while I was walking back to my room after a full day of classes and emotion. All I know is that hearing the birds chirp and seeing the sun getting ready to go down, was the only moment of clarity and peace I had yesterday.

So many things are breaking me right now...............................................................................................
but I am trying to stay me through all of it, so I don't go back to a place I refuse to be in.

I tried to go out last night and on thursday, but it's hard for me to be some "nice fun girl that's out to drink and be care-free and ready to dance and be social" when it's so dark inside, plus I can't fake it because I am rooted in honesty and making myself vulnerable to world even if it rejects me here and there.

The only thing I want is what is real. I am not here to wow anyone with charm or charisma or anything that isn't true. I am here to be only the real me moment to moment, day by day, month by month, year by year, yet I feel so much pressure to do otherwise, but I won't adjust to social etiquette or pretending. I am ready to be rejected by people and ideas who can't handle me because there is nothing more pure than being real all of the time. Real is all I will be.

"My dear, you are more stunning, more explosive, more luminous than a supernova."-quote from a lover to his lover (to remain unnamed)...If I could be loved this much by someone, my days could be a little bit easier, but I am alone. I am alone with you. I am alone with my friends, but its not that bad; it just feels a whole lot worse, but it's ok because I know this emptiness will once again be filled as soon as I feel all the beauty seep back in again.

Right now I am thankful for my 14 dollar ticket to La La La Human steps tonight, which I will be attending with several wonderful dancers who I respect highly. I am thankful for the comfort that Ana Caravelle's voice brings me. It will be ok, even though "there's this pain in your (my) chest that you can't get rid of."