I'd never leave you there screaming for my love

If I could write out all the love I had in me, your inbox would be full with letters from sunrise to sundown. I'd have a journal just for you, and the words for only you, and the thoughts with only you.
Because I'm sick in love like that.

And this scares the shiz out of me.
I wouldn't know if you'd do the same.

The Suggestion Box - Aqueduct

I'm a penny in a diamond mine

Shout when you wanna get off the ride
Shout when you wanna get off the ride
Shout when you wanna get off the ride
'Cause you crossed my mind, you crossed my mind

SO. I've got this song stuck in my head. Sour Cherry by The Kills, it has this nice kick and ring to it. I'm simply loving it. I've got it on repeat.

That aside, I'm trying my best to get back into this groove of writing everything out. All the things that work inside this little brain of mine. This is because I believe that writing things out is a good form of release. Writing things out makes whatever those things are more concrete. Writing things out is... a lot of things. It's just plain good to write things out. This entry is going to be incoherent, deal with it. I'm rusty and emotional and in need of some release. I'm writing things out. Oh crap this is going to be an assortment of things...

Off the top of my head: I'm artistically frustrated. I want to be able to draw and to make art a certain way and I'm just not getting there. I know it takes practice. But I just end up staring at the blank page of my sketchpad. Very depressing. I'm also frustrated because, as writing also is an art, I can't seem to write the same way I used to. I. just. can't. bring. myself. to. write. (hence this incoherent run-off entry. So much for my first February entry.) So there. Frustrations tugging at my strings. Oh but I'm also sick. Been sick since Wednesday. Imagine me coughing my throat out with tears streaming down my cheeks. Bad bad bad. Congested nose, headache due to lack of oxygen. The worst part? It's making me lethargic. And I have tons of work to deal with. Another thing tugging at me -- work work work. Did I mention I'm emotional? Yeah. So while I'm physiologically sick... I'm getting to being pretty much psychologically sick as well. Emotional instability baby. I'm getting this feeling of being lonely and needy and alone and sad and just... unstable. I have needs. I have needs. I have hopes and dreams and expectations. Not high expectations, just expectations enough. I have standards. And I hate feeling disappointed. Which is where my heart just lingers these days. Disappointment and failure and whatnot. Like, you said you'd do this but you're not. What's that but disappointment? But of course I can't let that sink in too much. Why, you ask? Well, it's because I have work. I'm not exactly the type of person to let my grades go to the dump just because I'm emotionally unstable. Of course it'll be a challenge to actually focus and get good work done. But I'm just not about to let my dean's list standing fall through my fingers. So far, it's the only concrete thing I can hold to that I'm proud of. My own doing, my own hard work finally bears fruit. Yeah. I actually can't find the reason behind my blogging anymore. I can't remember why I actually started writing in the first place. I think it was for some type of control. A method for me to actually see the little things in life that matter and make it beautiful. Purpose. Something to share? Whatever. I should be writing what I want to write. And if I want to write about something so disturbing rather than something that's nice and fun and awesome and heart-touching, I'm going to write something disturbing.

I feel like a marionette with my self tugging at my strings. Does that even make sense? Youandmeonthis'motionalrollocoastayea?

If I'm the only sour cherry on the fruit stand, right
Am I the only sour cherry on your fruit stand?
G-g-g-go home, go home it's over
G-g-g-go home it's over

Stagnancy

It's the new year and I haven't written in this blog for a month. You could say I've been having a dry spell: the lost urge to clack away at this keyboard for a meaningful entry. So much has happened that I don't think I can fit everything in. One thing I can say though is that I would live that Christmas break over and over if I could. I think this time, I'm going to let the photos tell my story.

Click any of the following links for my Christmas story:

• What Happened in Minnesota
• Christmas Critical Mass: Pittsburgh
  
• Christmas Critical Mass: Rochester
• We Started the Year Right
  

I'm missing a lot of people right now.