Saturday, April 23, 2011

Of broken hearts and twisted minds.

I'm winding down from today. I'm processing. I'm trying to understand.

I never know what to say or do, though I've been through this many times. Why am I always struggling to find words, or a touch? Probably because there are no words...
I hold my breath without realizing it. Then every five minutes or so I take a deep breath and everyone wonders if I'm about to start gasping. I just forget to breathe.
I sit there, stopping every few minutes and watch unfamiliar faces mesh with a familiar face. I see the same thing happen over and over. Hug, say the same thing as everyone else, talk, and we begin walking again. Finally we sit down, I still remain quiet. I watch people walk down the aisle, and walk back in tears and blank faces. So many people have come...
I hold his hand, trying to provide some type of comfort or security. The lights dim. My hand is being squeezed and I can feel my own heart beat. A man walks to the stage and begins to speak. He talks for only a short while, and music begins and pictures begin to flash across the screen. Pictures of someones life. The life of this person looks nice and well and happy. I wonder what went wrong. The pictures end and the man comes back on stage to speak again. I watch closely, but my attention is not on the man speaking. My mind is far off somewhere else. The man ends his speech, and tells us we are going downstairs. The lights come back on, people begin to move. I remain frozen. I'm still holding his hand; his breathing becomes heavy and unstable. I look over and he's staring straight ahead. I look away and hold his hand tighter while placing my other hand on to his. I listening to his breathing and realizing there are tears falling from his eyes. I'm not sure what to do. Should I hold him? Should I tell him it's going to be ok? Should I let him have it out and be down with it? What does he want? So I squeeze his hand a little tighter. Someone comes and hugs him and he starts to let it all out. I stare straight ahead. I put my arms around him, someone else hugs him. He gets up and yet another person hugs him, and another. I begin to feel the hot tears fall from my face. I look down at my legs and watch the tears(still running) fall from my leg. My mom comes and rubs my back and then she gets up to leave. I feel useless sitting here crying for no reason and being no comfort. I get up and walk to the end of the pews and sit, and cry and wait.
The last thing I wanted to see was someone so close to me start to sob. It breaks my heart. I should of braced myself. I knew it was going to happen. The entire event broke my heart. My mind is in overdrive. My heart is worn. I feel entirely helpless.
I end my story here.
The day in itself was, pleasant, heartbreaking, horrible, fine, confusing, hard, fun. Who even knows...I will tell you, I do not.
There. I said it. I wrote it all out, for you to read if you want. I can not control everything, nor do I want to.
"There is no such thing as a normal life. There's just life."

Friday, April 22, 2011

Where death is just a memory...

Lets rewind. Go back a week, or two. Where everything was fine, at least, it seemed fine. The world hadn't caved in at that point...not yet anyway. Isn't it crazy how instantly the world can fall apart and how long it takes to put the world back together again...a new world...a new normal. One action, one word, one choice, one thought, one emotion, can make someones world come crashing down. And then it takes years to build it again...sometimes less depending on the person.
Won't it be great, when we can one day look back on death as a memory? Something that once was, but will never be again? Oh yeah, death, I remember when that used to happen.
Instead of looking back on our loved ones...our friends and family as memories, precious pieces of our lives that once were and will not be again in this life...maybe ever. I wish we could make the exchange now...death for life. It will not be so in this life...
So we, eventually, accept our new lives without them(whoever they may be) and we carry on, through the pain(not around it), through the memories, and tears and anger. Keep in mind that one day death and pain and tears will all be a memory. The empty spaces will be filled. The tattered and worn edges around the heart will be mended. No more worry, no more fears. Sleep at last, peaceful dreams, and perfect love...

Saturday, April 9, 2011

Truth. What is truth?

"What is truth, Claudia? Do you hear it, recognize it when it is spoken?"
"Yes, I do. Don't you?"
"How? Can you tell me?"
"If you will not hear the truth, no one can tell you."
"Truth... do you want to know what my truth is, Claudia? I've been putting down rebellions in this rotten outpost for eleven years. If I don't condemn this man I know Caiphas will start a rebellion. If I do condemn him, then his followers may. Either way, there will be bloodshed. Caeser has warned me, Claudia. Warned me twice. He swore that the next time the blood would be mine. That is my truth!"

This quote is from the Passion of the Christ. It's my favorite.

The discussion of truth intrigues me. I'm not really sure why. Really, what is truth? Can I hear it? Can I see it? Can I feel it? Some things in life I hear and I think..."that has to be truth." It goes right to my heart and pierces it. Other times truth can go unsaid...I just feel it. Truth scares me sometimes. I don't want to know what's real. I don't want to hear honest words. Why are lies so much more satisfying? Why are they the substitute for the truth? I make myself sick sometimes. I want people to be real and yet I don't want to be real with them. Granted I am very real with people in general. I'd be more quick to look and make my own judgements. My own truth. Not knowing the whole truth about them. When someone is real with me( for my own good), it hurts and I get upset because I know what they are telling me is truth.
If I know truth and want truth, why do I believe the lies inside? The ones that tell me I'm a misfit and I'll never belong anywhere. My insecurities, my fears, my failures.... Perhaps I really don't know what truth is. Some lies are the truth to some people. Is what I believe or think or feel, or want or reason truth or a lie? What if everything I grew up knowing, and thinking turned out to be a lie? But it was my truth.
Do we pass over truth because it's so trivial? I'm constantly in search for it. In people, in thoughts, in life... Becoming an adult is hard. Finding who I am is one thing, but finding the truth is another. And everything relies on it. On truth. If I don't know what the truth is, than what do I know? And who am I? And who are you? And what is life? And what do I believe in? And why?....endless questions...endless confusion. So tell me, what is truth?

Listening through the chaos.

One of my favorite things to do is put my headphones in when I'm in a crowded room, and listen to something calm(like beautiful piano music or something expressive) and watch the chaos. Maybe it's not chaos, but there are a million different things going on. Conversations, interactions, noises. And I feel as if I'm off some place else, looking in at that crowded space.
I usually find words are useless to me. I have come up with other ways of expressing myself.
I make music, sing a song, dance, draw...all are ways of expressing ones self.
Take deep breaths, lay there quietly. Do you hear silence?
Life is almost impossible to live without music. Some sort of stable calm...
My headphones and music in a crowded room remind me that there are bigger things than what I see. A bigger picture. Is life only a crowded room and chaos? Is it the calm music inside the chaos? ......Have I lost you yet?
Have I thought my life out? No. It changes everyday for me. I don't know what kind of person I want to be because I already am a person. If I change so be it. If not, well, this is me. I've been this way a while.
I hate the question, "Where do you see yourself in 10 years?" My reply..."I have no freaking idea." I could be so many different things. I could be so many different places. Why plan out my entire life and miss it? You set expectations for yourself and you get disappointed. Everyone has an idea of the way they want life to look. I'd prefer my life to have a deeper meaning then going to college, getting a good job, making money, getting married, having kids, living good. Then I wake up one morning and realize I have nothing. I am nothing. From then on I either live off in another world or kill myself. And who wants that? Not me. I'll take the calm music inside the chaos. Watching everyone else...waiting for something as something else...