24 + 24

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I watched these two people at my favorite diner last night; a new something of sorts, I could tell.

She was all smiles and starry-eyes and he only dropped his gaze from hers when he absolutely had to, or when she relieved him a little by glancing down at the tiny pool of black in her hands. I think she had three cups, but I wasn’t counting, I was too busy creeping on this duo.

They split everything, which was disgustingly sweet. I never noticed a lull in conversation, but my omelette was delivered at some point and I had to look away to make it seem like I was less of a psycho. My waitress came and refilled my coffee up and I stirred in my sugar and cream, watching the liquid swirl and change color. I let my thoughts drift to a specific time that I very rarely go a day without thinking about.

his eyes were the color of the darkest coffee, my favorite flavor, and all I did for 24 + 24 hours was drink, with an unquenchable thirst. I didn’t expect to feel such  hunger after a full meal and a few drinks but I did; I couldn’t get enough, I was insatiable. This man, an unexpected yet welcomed stranger in my life, was consuming me, flooding my thoughts with a delicious elixir I never knew existed. I assumed that we would sip drinks and spend the evening talking and eventually part ways; I never dreamed that we’d spend the better part of forty-eight hours together, non-stop talking, listening to jazz and lying around, absolutely weightless on a some sort of cloud that was only drifting us higher and further out.

time seemed suspended, like it had stopped though the world was still spinning, but perhaps it was just me. no other thoughts penetrated and no other feelings remained, only my lust for more of this leisure.

it’s not very often that I shut my brain off completely, and I make it a point to do it consciously so I can turn it back on consciously, but this time-lapse was upon me and shut my brain down before I could react appropriately.

the minute details of these hours make up everything, each second a double count and weighing heavier in the air that was saturated with tension I wanted to cut. instead, we let it hang, savoring it as we should have. I’d trace his bottom lip with my eyes closed, curious when I felt the sides of his mouth curl with slightness, though I refrained from opening my eyes.

he was like reading the best book, the lucky find in the back of the bookstore; the one that gets left on a random shelf because someone else was too lazy to put it back in its appropriate place. you love the cover, discovering that what’s written inside is a treasure trove….and you are grateful.

all of this was mine for 24 + 24.

I looked up from my cup, now close to empty and noticed the couple was gone, probably lost in a song down an old dirt road. I wondered then what song it was and if anyone spends forty-eight hours with another person anymore, allowing themselves to be completely taken over by that “thing” that takes us over, for lack of a better word.

I took my last sip, reclaiming all of the sounds of the diner and smiling. I allowed a sensation of deja vu sweep me away as I stepped in the parking lot, filling my nostrils with crisp, fall air. It was still summer outside, but autumn was rapidly approaching and existed so vividly in my mind when my thoughts turned to him; I am in an uninterrupted state of harvest.

24 + 24

and counting.

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these things and more

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I feel compelled to write about mistakes. the word on the page is horrible to look at: mistake.

a nasty word; discouraging and tasteless, right? Defined as: an action or judgement that is misguided or wrong.

I hate the idea of consciously making a mistake. We know when we do it and we know it’s wrong when it’s happening, but what happens when we think we’ll eventually be able to justify the slip? I realize that this makes my judgement capabilities seem extremely skewed and I don’t think this way, but I’m curious. Do we consciously make mistakes, hoping to offer countenance for them later?

I made questionable decisions leading up to my departure from New Orleans. Some I stand by, some I’m not proud of, some I don’t want to think about ever again. All mistakes that could have been avoided had I had my head on straight, but that’s really no excuse. That’s something – we’ve got to stop making excuses for our lapse in judgment and just fucking own up.

Mistakes  have a way of helping us build something strong to stand on, where we can firmly plant our feet for the foreseeable future. Grounded in honesty; that’s motivation in a pure form.

We’re only human. Sometimes our judgement is clouded by one thing or another, sometimes, in the moment, it seems like we’re making a great decision, no matter how selfishly. I truly believe that it is the aftermath that measures your character. I don’t think it’s the mistakes that define us, I think it’s how we handle them after; something we are all still learning. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying to carelessly make mistakes just to test what kind of person you are. I’m saying when you make a mistake, be strong enough to own up to it and do what you can to correct it.

Mistakes should never remain present in your life.

This just came to me and I had to write it down. I think we dwell so much on what’s been done to us and what we’ve done that we can’t see the good in things. YES. I will happily admit that I made a decision or two last year that was completely wrong, unjustifiable; but I have squared myself with those things and moved on. It is wasted energy to hold on to negative things. I feel like I get on this soap box quite often, but I spent a fair amount of time wrapped in a negative, energy-sucking bubble-wrap and I can’t condone it, for any reason under any circumstance; it’s inexcusable to me at this point. Put positive energy in to every thing you do and things will change. I feel like major mistakes have been less frequent for me in 2015 (which is almost over OMG) because I have worked on conscious positivism. I will obviously never conquer this, but I’m working on it and it’s paying off.

Closing thoughts on one of my least favorite words: don’t let others beat you up for things that you’ve done – good or bad – and be kind to yourself about the mistakes you’ve made, noting to never make them a second (or third) time. Learn, heal, let go. Remember that  your mistakes are the reason for where you are today…and personally, I wouldn’t trade that for the world.

this just in: girl climbs mountain

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I sat down to write something completely different. It was entitled, “and she never came back.” I may still finish it one day, but the girl who wanted to write that was bitter, wounded and weak.

I am not that girl. 

My divorce will be finalized on August 12th, a week from today, the week I travel to the beach for some SERIOUS healing. To say that this has been a surreal feeling would be an understatement; perhaps, the understatement of my last decade. But you know what? I wouldn’t trade my experiences over this last decade for the world. I have endured the loss of my father, of friendships, of a life I thought I knew. I’ve lost close friends to the uncertainty of life and I lost my marriage, and all of the things he was to me. I lost myself, more times than I can count on one hand.

I’m not that girl.

I changed my attitude, y’all; I had to. I changed the word “suffered,” to, “endured,” because that’s what it was, endurance. Did I suffer? Yes, but we all suffer. I still feel like my suffering is suffocating some days, but if I think about it like that, if I approach that way, I always end up feeling like the victim. I knew if I continued thinking that way, I’d always feeling like the girl who lost her daddy, her husband and her way.

AND I AM NOT THAT GIRL. 

I reflect on seventeen through twenty-seven and I marvel. I revel. I have overcome more personally than I ever knew – no one really prepares you for it, you just have to accept things as they come and keep going, but no one tells you that when you’re growing up. Take a moment and briefly think about where you were a decade ago in comparison to where you are now. DAMN, right? When you’re growing up, you only hear about how wonderful life is. How sharing a life with someone makes life worth living, that you’re going to get to do all and be all that you could ever want and, for whatever reason, seeds are planted that make you believe that it is all going to fall right at your finger tips. But it doesn’t. We work, tirelessly it seems, to build things. “We beat on, boats against the current…” Careers, friendships, relationships…we spend our days constantly working towards something. Goals are great and necessary and fulfilling, but sometimes those things can pile up and seem like a mountain and we’re never going to reach the top.

I think about my goals, the list large and wide in front of me and I falter. I roll my eyes and think to myself, “I haven’t reached that place yet, I never will.” But, it’s just not true. Life has this way of – for lack of a better word – blooming right before our eyes. I am a paid writer now, a dream I thought would never come to fruition…and it’s only the beginning. We must pause for an appreciative thought for these things; gratitude.

I’ve had several long talks with family and friends lately about, “well when do we get there? when am I ever going to find real balance? when is life going to stop throwing rocks at me?!’ And you know what? I won’t. It never will. It is an endless cycle of the ups, downs, and roundabouts and we must keep going because life keeps going; we cannot stop just because shit gets hard, unfathomably hard. And you won’t be prepared for it and you won’t know it’s coming or when it’s going to end, you just gird your loins, buy the ticket and take the freaking ride.

After the almost decade of, what I can only refer to as The Awakening, Revolution and Revival, I am happy to say that enough of the fear has dissipated. I think it’s healthy to be a little fearful, a little leery, perhaps that’s a better word, for the sake of the thrill. Things aren’t thrilling unless they’re a little bit scary. Don’t you agree?

Two short years ago, had you asked me to climb a mountain, I would have looked at you and said, “What the hell for?” But I’m not that girl anymore. Now, I dare you to ask me. I am hungry for challenges, adventures and obstacles. If you’d ask me to climb a mountain right now, I’d say, “why the hell not?!” and race you to the peak…because I am that girl.

The hill you thought you’d never pass and valleys that seemed so deep are magnificent when you’re standing on top of the mountain. Trust me, the view is worth the climb.

thank you Courtney Wimmert for the artwork/ future ink.

let me invade your space.

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I don’t write this kind of thing typically, but I had to get it out of my head.

***

oh baby, won’t you let me invade your space? i don’t know you at all, but I’ve memorized your face.

I’ve been waiting for something or someone to dazzle me, to mentally take me away from this state of anti-enthusiasm and really inspire me…congratulations are due, I think I’ve found a winner.

I know absolutely nothing, my head is empty and completely devoid of any knowledge about who or what you are; for all I know you’re a spaceship cowboy just taking a ride on a shooting star.

oh baby, won’t you let me invade your space? wrap my arms around you and steal you away, creating our own imaginary place.

I want to say that I’ll wait to for the chips to fall where they may, but I’m just not sure how patient I can be. I want to hear that voice again so I can find my footing, before this thin ice gets away from me.

Someday soon I’ll take a leap and find some courage, buried deep in my throat. I can’t believe that I’m allowing neon lights to inspire such resonating hope. I could try to remove you from mind my mind, but your beats would blare in my car. What’s sound delights you? What frightens you? I’d run backwards a million miles, any distance at all to answer these questions, no matter how far.

let me invade your space.

***

I am so distracted by thoughts of this weekend. I left a single sandal – JUST ONE – at the hotel and passed work twice this morning; my brain has left the building, yall. I’ve really missed this fire, this feeling of inspiration. I’m not quite sure what struck a chord so hard, it usually takes so much more than a thumping bass and neon lights to get me going, but my mind hasn’t stopped since Saturday.

this is such a crap blog, but my mind wouldn’t shut up. this has to happen to other writers out there.

here’s a song that will probably distract you too.