Monday, January 4, 2010


The most stressful part of a new year?
Remembering to write 2010 on everything.
Whose with me?

I'd like to live a life with no expectations.

His favorite kind of music is Country. Mine's HipHop. I hate Country. Mostly. I psychoanalyzed myself to figure out why. And here's what I came up with: Part of it has an environmental factor. I grew up listening to Michael Jackson and Brandy. A little Maria, and lots of Destiny's Child before Beyonce made a split (good for you B). People USE music for different things. For some it's to settle down and relax. Other's sleep. Some stress. For me it's used as fuel to power through my day. I use it for adrenaline to work out hard. I use it to pick up my pace when doing things around the house. I feel like HipHop is perfect for those things because there's a certain repetitive beat to most of this genre. A beat. I'm not saying other genre's DON'T have beats, but it's different. Anyone who loves hiphop hopefully picks up what I'm putting down.

I've found myself at a wall. They said to expect a low when going from such intense work outs to.. not so intense or for so long. I didn't remember that until about 2 days ago when the low hit and suddenly I had no motivation to merely get out of bed. It always hits at the most odd of times. Of course the events leading up to today have increased the drop in good mental health and activity. I don't really know what to do except work out. That's all I keep thinking about. Just how I want to run and run and run and run and RUN. And keep on running. I don't ever really want to stop. It's my flight instinct. It's all the odd complexes compiling themselves together so that internally I'm crushed.

I can't move.
It's hard to breath.
I don't have a real desire to anymore.

The other day I wished I would get hit by a train.
It's never what it seems to be, even if I hit it right on the nose! Finally I was right. But so completley not. I don't know which hurts more. I'm not really letting myself think about it, because..well, there's not much to think about.

I drew a picture of myself today. I didn't really think about what I was doing. I just let my fingers run wild all over the sketch book. I finished, closed my eyes.. opened them back up and was a little shocked. It's nothing like I've ever sketched before, but it mirrored what I was feeling inside so perfectly that I baffled myself.
I wish I felt comfortable sharing it, but I think that's a picture I'll take to the grave. Along with how many calories I consumed the other day, and the dream I had the other night. So many secrets.

a vein of music. a single tear. stitches.
It never comes together in a way that's.. real.

Always surreal.
So what about the new year? I thought that by now I'd have compiled an entire list of new years resolutions. But I haven't found it in me to try and right them out yet, because I so rarely accomplish any of them. And all the ones that I do are the ones that don't actually matter. I wonder why that happens. Insecurity? Inability? wall. barriers. a fence.

I'd like to read (script.) and pray every day this year.
I'd like to learn every Hymn in the book.
Share testimony at least twice.
Get a job.
Run a marathon.

But the one thing that I really want to have happen... I won't ever write down, simply because I'm too scared that by writing it down will somehow ensure that I don't accomplish it. Jinx.
I'm pathetic. :D

Hey DJ?
my speakers up.

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