the artist is the pheonix who burns to emerge

i'm drunk.

seems like aperfect time to post.

my exboyfriend made this blog for me. i'ma lso using his journal to write in nowadays. and i can't colalge over it, but i hate being reminded of what once was. what once was perfect, and how haunts my sleep. i'm sending poetry to boys at midnight and feeling numb. i'm being cryptic and writing songs. i'm being a bad, bad girl.

i'm wanting things that i should never, ever want. i'm wanting to be bad person.

better to reign in heaven than serve in hell.

i'm doubting things i have never doubted. i'm regretting things and i have no regrets. my hands feel warm and my head is fuzzy and full of cobwebs and soft, pliable rage. i feel wasted. in the drunk sense, but also int he sense that i've been all. used. up.

for some reason i just had a flashback to my middle school. i wonder where that came from.

my hands are so warm. maybe it's this keyboard. maybe it's this night.

it's getting cold outside. today it smelled like christmas. my life lately seems a string of dissapointments and misconceptions, wants and needs that never get met, friends that never get where i want to go, talks i never get to have, grades i can never make, leaderships i never take.

i'm starting to give up.

i thought i was starting to get jaded, but this is what's really starting. i'm starting not to feel. i'm training myself to feel nothing. i'm slowly widdling down my emotional state to three basic emotions: love, hate, and loss. do you really need anything else?

emotion has defined my life for so long, i'm hoping i can live without it. the truth is, it has bred nothing but spoiled relationships, rape cases, and suicide attempts. to be honsest, emotion has never done a damn good thing for me.

i am so drunk. my hands are so warm. today smelled like chriistmas.

i think i should change my name.

<3 ashes

no pheonix intended

i miss you like my left arm that's been lost in a war

oh, beauty.

how you evade me so preposterously.

and how you find me so inconveniently.

<3gen

writer of fiction

i seem to have made a mess of things. but perhaps it's a good mess. or perhaps it's a fun mess. or maybe a wonderful beautiful mess. but that's only if i'm a really lucky girl. and i think we all know i am not a very lucky girl. i think this could turn out to be an ugly mess.

but my life is that of messes, fun or ugly, so it should not be anything new. the last time i started talking like this, about making messes and mistakes with boys and cars, i started smoking, cried for six days straight, and could barely work through the fog i walked through. but this time, there's no tears. there's no fog, and though there are a few cigarettes i don't pick them up in hopes they will somehow get me breathing again. this time, no big deal.

i'm finally taking my own advice.

maybe i'm not a hypocrite anymore.

this time, i can't help being myself. this time, i refuse to hate myself for something happening that i did not intend. this time i don't think it's the end of the world. this time i don't think everything is crashing down. this time i don't think this is the end of a friendship, which last time had me walking around like a tear-soaked zombie craving brains. this time i'll be me. and i'll listen to what i have told so many others and be myself, and the best of myself, and try to help pthers, and try to be better, but i can only try my best.

this feels strange.

it's a wonder what can be accomplished when you listen to yourself.

i skiped french today. i haven't started on my lab term paper.
i am queen procrastinator.
but i don't care.
i'm the happiest i've been in a long
long
long
time.

<3monroe

OH GOD

what goes up must, inevitably come down.

crashing down.

i did feel whole for a little while though, i really did.

<3gen

quarter-inch pieces

i felt whole for a little while.



<3gen

let us rebuild this kingdom, and let us call it promise

my life is kind of amazing right now, in part to:
- lindsey jayne FUCKIN mullen being such a beautiful badass
- my new and most beautiful dorm room
- covering a couch all day yesterday
- floor-to-ceiling posters
- knowing that my room is so much better than anyone else's on the god damn planet
- ryan cooper and harrison
- rachel carter and her kitties
- the $1000 i saved this summer for whatever i want
- not wanting to go home
- painted ladders
- did i mention lindsey jayne?

so that's my life right now. in short- unadulturated happiness. my boyfriend gets here today, where i will spend at least 1.3 minutes rubbing the fact that my room is better than his in his face. then my new, lovely, desirable life will be complete.

at some point, i have to buy school supplies and text books, but i'm just so giddy it's distracting!

<3the gen

acceptance

so much of the advice i have recieved as of late, from others and from myself, has been simple: accept it, and move on. there are bad parts of life, things get really hard sometimes, and when you find yourself crying in a foggy room, just accept that this is life, and take it and go on to the next day. i don't like that, i don't want to have to move on; that too, i must accept.

i have to accept that aaron will never get over his grudge and be my friend again. i have to accept that the friendships i hold dearest in the world are not what they used to be. i have to accept that things change [this is one that i have struggled with for the longest]. i have to accept that i must have a serious conversation with my boyfriend. i have to accept that there are secrets that i learned today that i can't share for fear of making the same mistake twice. i have to accept that someone just betrayed me just like i betrayed aaron, but i won't let it change how i feel about that person. i have to accept that that makes me think aaron overreacted. i have to accept that i am forgetful, shallow, clumsy, and a liar. and i have to accept that all of the artistic talent, glitter, witty jokes and good talks can not make up for that.

i hate it. i hate that there are so many things wrong and i just have to 'accept it and move on.' i don't like this kind of life. sometimes i think so much has happened in barely twenty years of life, and i'm expected to go on for another fifty or so? maybe we've extended the life span too much, why there is no great passion in this generation, no great american novel. there's just too many years, we take everything for granted. it's too intense, there's too much life. 70 plus years of 'accepting' that life is shitty most of the time? i'm not okay with it.

i've kept an online journal in some form or another for nearly 6 years now, and my hauntings are spread over nearly twenty different journals. some are just poetry, some stories, some emotional and angsty others witty and fake. but when i look back, the number of entries about 'accepting' something horrible and moving on with my life is astounding. so many entries filled with words of tears and giving up and growing up and all that jazz. things should not have to be this hard.

but they are.
and i have to accept it.
<3gen

just what is a good life anyway?

i know, i know. it's been such a long, sad time since i updated. i thought that being home for the summer [and by home, i mean not at all] would leave plenty of time for blog updates and photos and daily journalings of my oh-so-interesting life. but the truth is, work is one thing i didn't expect-time consuming.

i really enjoy my job, and i'm damn good at it. except when people want me to suggest a good present for someone turning a year old, and i usually want to say 'they're a year old, just dangle a red sock in front of them and they'll think you're a god.' but yet, they want flashy lights and music that the poor kid will be terrified of or grow out of in a year and then they'll be back wanting something even flashier and even more light-up-y than before. but usually i enjoy a good day at work, and it's busy enough to be fun, and my coworker elaine is the most fun thing in the world. but man, 9 hours a day, it takes effort. and once i get home, the soft, once-inviting glow of the laptop just doesn't seem to beckon me the way it used to.

plus, when i'm not working, i'm with my friends, who are really the only ones who care to read my little journal anyway, so they get what's going on. but i've got a couple readers on here who i don't see that often, so i suppose i owe them a good shout once in a while. lately, in the friends category, things have been...well... bizarre to say the least. lots of talking, lots of secrets, lots of late nights. but it's good, and we're growing up, or grown-ups, or something and we're being good people and that's what's important. i'm making new friends out of old friends and discovering commonalities with people i never thought i had. even if that commonality is a sad one, it is a commonality none the less.

and hey, here's a paragraph that isn't on my xanga or my livejournal, because no one here at home reads this journal. i've been spending tons of time, including much late-night-talking time, with aaron. it seems i've finally found a way to be his friend, and to help him. sometimes i have to resist the urge to fall in love with him all over again, because that would be so easy, but i won't. because that's not my life anymore, and i'm not that girl anymore.

all in all, i think i'm doing pretty well. i know this wasn't exactly funny or cute, or really all that informative. but soon i'll post pictures from work, detailed schedules of my daily life, and fun stories about little girls in tutus or maui jim sunglasses. i love you all. 10-4.

<3gen

we know

<3 gen

ashville, motherfuckers

sweet. so now i can do a real update, after hashing through the bullshit on my xanga.

i really do love ashville, it's a great place. full of hippies and cool shops and clothes. not to mention the prices are great, there are practically no people dressed like they walked out of a tiger beat, and there is something cool around every corner. this place is all about being mellow and happy and artistic. local artists, microbreweries, coffee shops with $1 cappucino. also, i MAY or may not have bought a beret.

but anyway. basically the only drawback is my father. only a week living with the rutsky's and i'd forgotten how god damn annoying that man is. he's constantly saying "this town's weird isn't it?" and i mean constantly, i am not exaggerating. i mean it's seriously every few minutes, if not seconds. whenever something goes wrong at all, he blames my mother for not saying something, when really it was just him being an absolute idiot. i mean he is seriously one of the dumbest people i've ever encountered. jesus christ. i can't take it.

not to mention i can't shake the feeling that aaron is mad at me for god knows what reason. he shouldn't treat me like one of his clingy girls from colorado, he doesn't have to avoid me completely. i hate it. i wish it wasn't my fault all the time.
i can't wait to build lindsey's prezzie. it's exciting. i'm missing my college friends alot, especially andrew and lindsey. not to mention the fun kids i got close with at the end of the year, ryan cooper and harrison and laine and mary elizabeth and her boyfriend. i'm really excited about this summer seeing my friends, but part of me can't wait till next semester. living with lindsey, our bad ass room, my classes, more jokes and WOW and parties.

today was a beautiful day.
i look fucking bad ass in this hat.

library madness

now that i finally have the chance to rekindle my love for reading, the following books have been checked out to grace my life for the nest 3 months:

flowers for algernon- daniel keyes
the catcher in the rye- j.d. salinger
beyond genetics- glenn mcgee
an american childhood- annie dillard
weetzie bat- francesca lia block
why some like it hot: food, genes, and cultural diversity- gary paul nabham
travels with charlie- john steinbeck
one flew over the cuckoo's nest- ken kesey
whose view of life? embryos, cloning, and stem cells- jane maienschien
a heartbreaking work of staggering genius- dave eggers
genome- matt ridley

it has been a busy as hell two days. yesterday i unpacked both cars, packed one with lindsey's stuff and the other with mine for the rutsky's, cleaned the kitchen, went out for mother's day, did two loads of laundry and returned it all nicely folded, and cleaned up my stuff downstairs. today i got up early, went to my job interview, accepted a full tiem job working in toys at smith's variety store in mountainbrook, moved all of my things into the rutsky's, and came to the library to check out the very books i have listed before you.

i feel like a grown up. it's strange.
but i have a brand new my little pony lunchbox for work, so i think i'm ok.

<3gen

tomorrow

it's a strange feeling. i have plans, i have things to do that i planned and that technically, i don't have to do it. i have a job interview tomorrow at 10am, and then i'm moving into the rutsky's house until the afternoon. i have some shopping planned and some phone calls to make.

but they're plans that i made, they are things that i did on my own and arrangements that i took care of and that i decided on and now i carry them out and finish. and i'm doing it by myself, on my own time. i'm going to make my own breakfast. i'm going to pack my own room. i feel like a grown up.

i watched the series finale of west wing with my parents. it's still one of my favorite shows, and this one was the president's terms ending and the new president taking over. the old staff was leaving, boxes and furniture moving out, new plans made. and as the president was on the plane headed home, his wife asked him what he was thinking about, and he answered "tomorrow."

and that's what i feel like. i feel like for once in my life, i can do things that i decide to do for myself. i don't have homework, i don't have to worry about next semester. i have a job i got myself, money i earned, a cell phone i haven't lost yet. i can read a book if i want to. i can paint. i can rearrange a bookshelf. just if i feel like it.

this is new and exciting.

ice cream exciting.

<3gen

p.s. i miss my friends. i miss them so much. i get to see my birmingham friends this summer, then back to tuscaloosa for late night WOW talk from andrew, sex jokes, lindsey face, snuggling, drunken nights, mess, fans, angel music and paty. i can't wait for everything in the world. just. can't. wait.

oh shit.. i did it

1. Reply with your name and I'll respond with something random about you.
2. I'll tell you what song/movie/book/fictional character reminds me of you.
3. I'll say something that only makes sense to you and me. Or at least me.
4. I'll tell you my favorite memory of you.
5. I'll tell you what animal or plant you remind me of.
6. I'll ask you something that I've always wondered about you.
7. If I do this for you, you must post this on your journal.

<3gen

good to be home

so i've been home this weekend for easter, and for once, it seems like things are falling into place. my life, it seems, for a few moments, is being planned and pieced together and may actually work out. i worry with predicting that things will work out the way i want them, which rarely happens in my life, but perhaps this time.....

this weekend i felt infinitely better than i have in such a long time. james came home, and for a while yesterday, i laid in the back of his convertible and looked up at the big blue sky while driving to ryan's house and listening to mpr. and that night at dinner joe showed a slideshow about caitlin, something we all hadn't thought about in a long time. and i got to see cindy and gretchen and karen, and snoopy walked around on the floor, and scruggs came over and we all went and got donuts, and we sat on james's floor and looked at pictures and ate donuts. for just a few minutes, it was like old times.

and today we had easter. and we ate chocolate and made food together as a family and then sat at the table and said grace and ate. and my dad didn't make any comments about the food, and he was nice, and didn't say a mean thing about anybody. and he listened to our stories, and he told him own, and he didn't interrupt or say NO to everything we said. and my mom laughed and my sister didn't answer her cell phone. and we had an ice easter dinner and nothing went wrong. we didn't have to tell my dad to turn off the tv, no one got yelled at, the food was delicious, and the day was beautiful. it was probably one of the only great family dinners we've ever had.
and now i'm washing clothes and writing a paper and listening to mark isham [crash soundtrack]. and i feel okay. yeah, i'm not gonna pull higher than a C in french. yeah, i have a paper due tomorrow and a creative writing assignment. yeah, the new teacher for my blount class really sucks. yeah, it's getting tiresome living so close with so many people for so long. and yeah, i am SO ready for all my friends to be back home and in james's room and laughing like we never graduated high school and we never left home. but you know what? summer's pretty close, my parents aren't fighting, and i think i can hold myself over until we can all be together again this summer.

i know it's trite, but i think the best metaphor for life is in fact a roller coaster. i think everyone uses that parallel because it's true, and it works, and it really feels like that sometimes. i will leave you with song lyrics- go download the song if you like it.

"better son/daughter" by rilo kiley
~and sometimes when you're on
you're really fukin' on
and your friends they sing along
and they love you.
but the lows are so extreme
that the good seems fuckin' cheap
and it teases you for weeks in its absence.
but you'll fight and you'll make it through
you'll fake it
if you have to
and you'll show up for work with a smile.
and you'll better
and you'll be smarter
and more grown up
and a better daughter
or son or a real good friend.
and you'll be awake
you'll be alert
you'll be positive though it hurts
you'll be happy and you'll be
beautiful.
you'll be happy.~

<3gen

quotables

"And I thought, there was no God, there was only what you wanted"
--White Oleander, by Janet Fitch

I'm Writing A Letter

Dear God,
oooooHi, it's Genevieve. I know we haven't written in a while, but in your last letter you menioned a few natural disasters you were going to be proccupied with, so i let you off for a little while. But it has come to my attention that you have, yet again, made an aggregious error in your Life and Death department. I'm sorry to sound so formal, I know you and I are old friends and we've been writing these letters for some time, but I feel it necessary to give this matter the respect it deserves.
ooooo I really liked Ute Winston. She was probably my favorite teacher since Rutsky, and most likely one of the best I've ever had. She was a wonderful person, and always made us laugh, not to mention a self-declared and student-supported bad ass. We joked about her, we trusted her with our essays. She understood things like specificity, creativity, details and open-ended quesitons. She always smiled, put people in their place, taught great history and always managed to make everyone speak. She was a great teacher, and I wanted her to be my gramma. She was our own little German grandmother and we loved her- masturbation jokes and all.
ooooo I don't understand your reasoning in allowing her to die. I understand that she was old, but I thought I took priority here? I thought that when it came to me, you promised you wouldn't take any more people I liked before I said I was okay with it? We had this discussion God, we talked about it, and I want you to know that this is not fucking cool. This is not okay with me and fuck formality but this is really taking it too far. This whole high-and-mighty routine is getting old, especially when you just arbitrarily decide that you are going to take friends, principals, and good teachers away from this world. You said you would check with me! You said you would call! But no, the letters stopped, your number got disconnected, and now you let Ute Winston die? And you gave us another teacher whose nickname is "Douchebag Dokee?" You can't replace her! And you can't make half of my dorm cry, including me and all my close friends, and make me recieve the news while the tornado siren is going off and the whole world explodes.
ooooo I don't give a damn about natural disasters! Fuck hunger and poverty and earthquakes and adoption and car bombs and a war and gas prices and corruption! I take priority! You can't ignore me forever! You can't take anyone else! You promised you wouldn't do it again, and you went and did it anyway.
ooooo I'm sorry to break from formality, but please try to write back as soon as possible. It's been nearly a year since we talked, and I keep writing. I've enclosed a few stamps this time, in case you've run out of stamps. And some extra paper and an envelope or two. I also dropped in a pencil and a pen, just in case you don't have one. I put my dorm phone number, and Ryan's cell if you want to call. But I'm here most of the time, so just please write back. Or something. I just want you to answer.
ooooo Maybe you ran out of stamps.

Sincerely Yours,
Genevieve

lindsey mullen is

inspired by lyrics of nickel creek's 'when you come back down':
~My greatest fear will be that you will crash and burn

And I won't feel your fire

I'll be the other hand that always holds the line

Connectin' in between your sweet heart and mine

I'm strung out on that wire

And I'll be on the other end,

To hear you when you call Angel,

you were born to fly,

Your memory's the sunshine every new day brings

I know the sky is calling Angel,

let me help you with your wings ~

'jayne'

lindsey mullen is bright lights. she is exciting and her eyes squint when she smiles and it makes me giggle. she is happy even when she's sad. she is incomprehensibly beautiful. she has tiny lighted eyes and big rosy cheeks and a smile you can see from the moon. she has curly hair and lovely skin and nice hands and cute feet. she has a lovely face. she's not just effective- she's affected. and that's something that people these says just plain aren't. she loves people intensely and without reason. she loves people more than they love her and that has been and always will be her curse. she is a good girl. she is good despite everything that has ever happened or things that are happening or things that are going to happen. she knows how to lie. she is good at it. she understands that is scary but she is in complete control of her vices. she controls things she doesn't know she controls. lindsey mullen is alright. she is the smell after it rains. she is kittens. she loves her cats and loves her friends who treat her poorly. sometimes she thinks she desernes it. she never ever does. she knows what to do to make you feel like the whole wide world. she is one hundred dollars. she is atypical. she is abnormal. she is alien. she is wonderful. lindsey mullen is good chocolate and stuffed bunnies and happy children. she is playing in the rain. she is clinging to her past for all the right reasons. she is understanding. she is passionate. she has passion in her and outside her. it leaks from her like tears. she cries. she gets angry. lindsey mullen glows in the dark. she is a postcard with a hundred secrets and she is sweet smelling hair and she is flowy skirts and she is infection laughter. she is eloquent. she is a genius. she is a child in a big girls' body. she has a great rack. lindsey is sweet. her voice is high and she sings like she fucking means it. she loves good music. she can make fabulous mix cds. lindsey is glitterfantastic. she is bats. she is puppies. she is late night. she is orange and pink and green and purple. she is unorganized. she is uberorganized. she knows when it matters. she knows when it doesn't- but really it does. she knows when it doesn't- and it really doesn't. she does her best. she takes care of others before herself. she forgets to take her iron. she knows when things are cute and fun. she knows how to have fun. she makes everything fun. lindsey mullen is infinitely beautiful when she's drunk. lindsey is emotion and that's perfect. she feels things like i do and that is why i feel part of me in her. she knows it is okay to feel. she is a wonderful writer. she is brave. she is strong. she doesn't think any of these things are true. she doesn't see in her what we all see. she probably never will. she is waiting for prince charming. prince charming is searching for her. she makes mistakes. she fucks up. she hates herself. just like everyone else. but she's nothing like everyone else. lindsey is free from the chains that the earth can spring up and wrap around her. lindsey can laugh through pain. lindsey knows more than you. she knows more than me. she is bright and love and flowers and pretty stones and fire and static electricity and good books and little girls and speeches and oranges and dishes and poems and walls and messages in bottles. she is coloring books and buttons and charm bracelets and toys and bubbles and voices and education and art museums and high schools. lindsey mullen is parking spots and light bulbs and caterpillars and rain-soaked grass and sunshine and pretty days and rainstorms and lightning and glowworms and cute children and warm blankets and sharpie markers and moral forum and fake pearls and real pearls. lindsey jayne mullen is my heart and my best friend. she is bright lights.

<3gen>

6 weird things

so lindsey has instructed me to list 6 strange things about myself. this is difficult not in thinking of these six things, but rather narrowing the list down to six. we'll just go with the weirdest i can come up with right now.

1. sometimes late at night, i pour milk in a bowl and drink it like soup. but if you walked in on me doing it, i would just say i just finished eating cereal.

2. i rehearse speeches i will one day give to people, or hope to give to people, in my kitchen or in the bathroom. the one i practice most often is if ie ver win any big award on television, and preach to all the celebrities about how they are frivilous and wasteful and should spend theirmoney on aids research and not diamond-encrusted shoes and personal stylists.

3. i am convinced beyond all doubt that RENT is and will always remain the most underrated movie ever created.

4. it really annoys me when people wake up startled, or are generally skittish when they are asleep or close to asleep.

5. i have virtually no care or thoughts about personal hygeine. i can barly spell the word.

6. i have a secret dream to become a famous singer- i secretly love to sing in front of people, i'm just always afraid to because it's never appropriate and i don't want to look like i'm showing off.

some other weird things might be that i hate most of modern technology, i enjoy working on very tiny things in detal [e.g painting tile grout], and i have a tendency to develop crushes on my teachers. oh, and i'm kinky as hell. but that's not really weird is it?

my next post will be a surprise for my best friend.
hooray.

<3gen

je veux le mort

the question that i find myself asking is, why do i bother? i probably tried harder studying for this french test than any test i've taken in a very long time. two days straight of nothing but writing over and over again, memorizing conjugation, re-hydrating sentences, quizzing myself on vocabulary, working on composition. i got a tutor, i made notecards, and even bought a brand new notebook specifically to write french over and over and over and over again until my french eyes bleed french blood all over my french book.

and yet? a 73. and ryan? he studied two hours the night before, and worried over the weekend about doing badly. i felt confident, i worked hard, this was gonna be my first A on a french test this semester. and yet, it seems that ten times the work only amounts to a few points on a test. so i ask myself, why even bother trying uber-hard if it doesn't do any good?

give me a poem to analyze and i could put you to shame- i dissect poetry in my sleep, it's second nature by now. read a novel and find every miniscule metaphor in ever gesture and every beautiful manipulation and intention? it's what i'm best at, and i can promise i'm better at it than you. because it's the ONE SINGLE THING that i fucking rock at.

i can draw fairly well, sing fairly well, cook fairly well. i'm a nice person, generous, thoughtful, and the most assertive person i know. i do what i can and i think i'm pretty alright.

but smart? not a word i would use. it's all about retaining knowlege- and i just can't do it. memorization kills me. i lose my keys, cell phones, money, cards, books, anything able to be lost, really. and i get teased mercilessly for it. i can't remember ANYTHING about french, i can't have a big vocabulary because i can't ever remember what the words all mean, and i can't keep track of money to save my life.

i know i'm being self deprecating and you guys all think that it's not a big deal if i lose my keys or can't remember french conjugations. but for me? it's a huge deal. only because it's something that i have to deal with every single day, and no matter what i do, it never gets any better.

so again, i ask myself, why bother at all?

<3gen

seasons of...

a few christmases ago, my mother gave me this book. mostly because i blatantly pointed out that i wanted it, but my mother is such a person that she most likely would have figured out that i wanted it without my instruction [e.g. she bought me my oprah dvd before i even knew it existed, and who knows i like oprah that much?]

i have discovered recently that i must read this book at least once a year, because it seems that the knowlege it procures so beautifully and willingly i forget just as well after a year or a little less has gone by. the most effective part of this book, which indicates that part that i hsould start reading most often, is a certain section that has to do with the seasons of life. that we all, in a sense, so through 4 seasons in our lives as does the weather of a year.

there is spring, where everything is new and beautiful and exciting and blooming, the sun is shining and the clouds move slowly. there is summer, where things are warm and familiar and things are in full bloom and colorful. there is an autumn, where things begin to wither and change, it gets a little colder and cloudier. and there is inevitably a winter, where things are dead and dying, cold and frail, and the days are mostly cloudy and wet.

for some people, this actually follows the seasons [sometimes i think i'm like that, other times, when alabama doesn't have winter, i have trouble deducing it] and for others, their winter is in spring and their summer is in autumn. what matters is that these things are natural, and inevitable. what i have to realize, and perhaps others who udnerstand my dilemma, is that the seasons of my life do not make me a bad person, and it isn't abnormal to go through a few months that suck like a 2 dollar whore. no one gets angry at mother nature for getting cold, i don't assume it's because the world has done something wrong, or that it is somehow at fault for killing its own flowers. i should listen to that part of me, and understand that i can't hate myself for being sad and troubled for a while, and that it's completely natural and involuntary that things get rocky and difficult sometimes. it's so easy to forget this, because the last time i had trouble was three seasons ago, and by now i've forgotten what it was like to hurt like this. but the last winter helped me prepare for this one, just like all the winters before it prepared for the ones following, and i can get ready for spring.

and in spring, things will be beautiful and wonderful and new again. the truth is, the same things that are going to be beautiful and amazing and exciting this spring are the same things that were new and exciting every spring, but this time, i've changed a little, and it's been three seasons since my last spring too, so i've forgotten what it looks like to see a flower bloom. we cycle through the same seasons, it just gets more intense, and better prepared for, each time.
i think after enough phone calls, talks to sini, and trips home, i'm going to be headed back into spring-mode fairly soon. i have some relationship issues to work out, some old skeletons to get out of the closet, and a few vices that i shouldn't indulge nearly as often. and when that's over, i'll go back to liking myself, and understanding myself, and maybe this time i'll remember all of this when winter comes again.

maybe that's all growing up really is. remembering spring in winter and remembering winter in spring.

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