Alternate Reality

Every now and then a giant alarm clock rings so loud and brings you out of that sleeping delirium and into reality, or what you know as reality. Life keeps changing and changing and we never seem to know what we are really getting ourselves into until we are to deep to even bother to swim back out. Sometimes we end up questioning how we are or how we act and how others perceive us. I'm pretty sure others perceive me as pretty weird. I don't really want to change myself for others, as long as I am happy, right? Other people making me feel bad about myself doesn't make me feel happy at all.

I guess I get confused on who I am and what I want and what is actually going to happen. They say that if you work hard for your dreams, that they will come true. That's not true at all now is it. There is fate, all looming and large, standing in the way of everything. When my Dad died it was one of those alarm clocks screaming FATE FATE FATE FATE. Hitting the snooze button doesn't help, it just rings again in two minutes. Life changes fast. Life changes so fast sometimes that you are left chasing after it, not wanting to stay where you were, but not sure where you are heading either. Sometimes, life changes so slow, that you didn't even know it changed until long after the fact.

Getting anxiety came on slow for me. It's funny because getting anxiety was an effect of life changing too fast. There were to many tears that I held in that dripped to my heart and made me feel sick all of the time. It is possible for emotions to be trapped and stuck. Good emotions will make you smile and laugh, bad emotions will kill you in the end I believe.

So all in all, bad emotions started to kill me. I am sad that I let something take a hold of me like that. I like to be in charge but I never am. Dreams keep us hoping, but reality alarms kill dreams. I don't want to sound that all my dreams are dead. A lot of my dreams came after I hit that snooze button seven times. They came to fill a void.

I guess in the end I had to have that void. I had to be woken up from a dream that wasn't going to be my reality. This is how I have to live life now. I have to love it, and I love it more and more everyday. Nothing can replace my Dad, but I can chase him and chase him, even knowing that I will never catch him. Chasing him brings me happiness that I can't have otherwise. Chasing him brings me hope that things won't always be this way.

The Whole Time

It's been fun to watch my life change and form beneath your fingers. I used to blog all of the time. I loved to write because it felt good to me. It felt good to write and pretend that it went out into this alternate universe we call the internet. I like to pretend that people read it and that they cared and that they understood. But then one day, (July 24 2012) I grew up and realized that nobody really gives a shit about me and my life and my dad. It was weird to see how the world just went on without me. Without my dad. Without my family. The universe didn't care that I was missing. So I fell deeper into the void of despair and loneliness and decided that if the universe didn't give a shit about me I sure as hell do not give a shit about the universe. Then, one of the next important days of my life I realized that I couldn't survive without the universe. I mean its that moment where your pride is stripped from you when you realize that you need something, but that something doesn't need you. So I started to return to the world. I would make contact, smile at other people, comment in class, forget about the universe forgetting me. I sat at the piano bench for hours trying to remember someone else in the universe and trying to honor that like I wished someone would have honored me. I found myself daydreaming again about life and how it goes on, with or without me and I might as well be there because what else am I doing. Another great day was when I realized that so many people don't give a shit and the universe still seems to give a shit about them. I hate that. The next day I realized that there were people who really give a shit, but the universe could care less about them. I keep wondering why life's pathways are so bumpy and confusing, and really windy. I am reading the Silver Linings Playbook and I love Pat People's because Pat People's gives a shit about a universe that doesn't give a shit about him. Bad things happen just like clouds cover the sun on the rainy days, but like Pat we just need to see the silver rim of the cloud instead of the black abyss of evaporated water that blocks the warmth and light the sun is so willing to share. I guess that is what happened. All the sudden my cloud lit up like the Las Vegas Strip and I understand the smallest fraction of the universe and why and how and when. My eyes were opened wide to who I was, what I was, and what I wanted to be. All the sudden the cloud didn't seem that dark. In fact, the darkness made it possible to see how bright the sun really was the whole time.

Empty Chairs

As the anniversary come crashing upon me my mind races more and more with thoughts that make me sick. I have learned this month that if you are not careful, Fear can take control of you. Fear can change you. Fear can kill you. This seems bleak and dramatic; but it's true. This month I let fear grab hold of me and shake me so hard I thought it was the end.

Empty Chairs give me fear.

Never let fear get in the way of living.

The Golden Bombing

So, today is my birthday. Today is suppossedly supposed to be the BEST birthday because I turned twenty today and today is the twentieth of may. Well this birthday has really really really really sucked because yesterday at work my boss tried to kill me. Dennis sent off bug bombs the night before and when I walked in there it was like walking into a gas pit of doom. Anyway I got really quite ill and the side effects are still lingering today.


Sigh.

Happy Birthday to Me.

Whisper

I feel like I am looking out a dirty window all of the time.  I can see out, but not clear enough to make out what's right in front of me. No matter how many times I clean the window it is still fogged with cheap cleaner, or the dirt and dust seem to be permanent.  I go through the motions everyday and the window looms in front of me.

I hope I am making the right decisions, because I am making the decisions blindly. Everyday seems just like the last one and I feel like I am taking no steps into the right direction. All the sudden I am Robert Frost .....two roads diverged in a yellow wood....

Waiting for that Whisper is really trying sometimes. I think the main thing for everyone to remember is to be patient. I feel that someday my life will all the sudden hit the tracks again. That I will be able to shake the dirt out of my shoes and put my hair back down. I will be following that track again. For now, I just have to find that track. It seems to have gone away, missing.

Romance 1903

So I have been really proud of myself lately.
No, It's not because I have made a ton of new friends.
No, It's not because I have been getting great grades.
No, It's not because I got accepted to Utah State,
Or the fact that I have started work back up,
or that the semester is finally almost over.

It is because I finished Romance 1903.

I am amazed at myself. I never thought I could do something like this.
It just takes a little faith trust and pixie dust (hours of practice).

Oh that's not me by the way. She's basically a professional. But the same song!

The New World Symphony

I am in a symphony. I sit in the back, right next to the timpani drums. I would rather be in the front right next to Dr. Abegg, but beggars can't be choosers.  Sometimes, I am playing notes, but I can't hear them. All I really can hear is that timpani drum. Let me talk about orchestra for a minute. It's amazing really. About seventy five strangers meet together every monday, wednesday, and friday for two complete hours. We all sit down and Dr. Abegg sits up top. Literally up top, his chair is much higher than the rest of us. Sometimes I imagine him falling off that chair. Don't get me wrong! I actually really like the guy. It's the chair that is so funny. I shouldn't really "dis" the chair becaue I think it exists because violinist like me who must sit in the back so we don't shame the "real" orchestra. Sometimes, it's the only thing I can hold on to in that class, because of that timpani drum. When I have absolutely know idea what's going on I just look up to that chair, than to my professor, and then to the stick he is waving in the air. Than I can try my hardest to ignore the timpani drum and play the notes that are written before me.

None of that is the point really, other than the first sentence. I want to explain to you why I was so happy the other day. Here I am, in symphony with seventy-four other strangers. We were all making music together which seemed really great. Then my teacher stopped us and said "Guys, this sounds like Dvorak! Only Dvorak could have created such a chord" I have know idea what chord he was specidfically talking about but it didn't matter because we were playing Dvorak, the New World Symphony. I started thinking about chords and how they exist and notes and music. I was wondering if God is as proud of me as Dvorak is of his New World Symphony. Dvorak must have been so proud to create that chord that Dr. Abegg loves. I want to by my Heavenly Father's New World Symphony. Together we can do anything, just like seventy-five college students can reenact the New World Symphony like Dvorak was sitting on that tall chair. That's what is so amazing about that. Because Dvorak is dead but he is still here in this song that we are all experiencing.

Even the timpani sound like angels.

Racing

I am wondering if this is living.
Driving in this car,
with the same group of people every. single. morning.
I feel my heart beat,
does that mean I'm living?
I'm not really sure.
I listen to the same song over and over againg
and I just keep wondering if I am really living.
I am five minutes late for class.
I am wondering what my Dad is feeling.
I roll the window down
and the wind swirls through my hair.
My hair comes to life I guess you could say.
If that is what living is.
It's like everyday we wake up,
but we never really open our eyes.
I am wondering what my Dad is feeling.
I feel hazy,
I feel dizzy.
I shouldn't be driving.
So I speed up and I'm on the freeway..
70...80..85...
Stop! Slow down!!! Just think for a second!
My mind is speeding through thoughts and ideas
and my head and my heart is pounding and yet
I don't even know if I am living or not.
Or just continuing an essay for my existentialism class.
I'm late for class, ten minutes maybe.
Is this really living? All these questions?
I am wondering what my Dad is feeling.
Then the boy in the car next to me looks over
he is smiling, not at me or about me,
but he is smiling because he is living.
I look back to the road,
catching myself smiling as I do so,
smiling, giggling, laughing..
laughing so hard it hurts.
Living is apparently contagious,
and I look over to the boy next to me,
but he is already gone.
I laugh again.
I wonder what my Dad is feeling.

wonderful things, wonderful life.

It's not that I am obsessive with death, I am obsessive with life. I have become so familiar with the dead it brings so many questions about life. In my human anatomy class I am slowly dissecting the cadavers and learning and understanding, but what is impossible to understand is how? There has to be a God because only a God could have created this body for life to fill, for us to fill. How miraculous is that? I wonder a lot about the end of life, and what that must feel like. Does it feel like anything? Or do you just continue to think,  no longer in your body?

In a book I am reading a boy dies. His soul remembers a lot of things, but the last thing is him sitting under the sky with his lover as they sing Across the Universe
"Nothing's gonna change my world."
"Nothing's gonna change my world."

Later on his soul describes

"There's a shiver in our legs, a tremor like the Earth is speeding up, spinning of into uncharted orbits. Scary, isn't it? But what wonderful thing didn't start out scary? I don't know what the next page is for you, but whatever it is for me I swear, I'm not going to ruin it. I'm not going to yawn off in the middle of a sentence and hide it in a drawer. Not this time. Peel off these dusty wool blankets of apathy and antipathy and cynical dessication. I want life in all of its stupid sick rawness.
Okay?
Okay.
Here it comes."

It leaves me breathless

Stuck

I'm crying right now because I love music so much. Literally. I go through music phases where I find a song or a artist/band that I love so much that I listen the heck out if it until it gets old. Then in about a year I will rediscover the artist/band and love it all over again. Music really can talk to me when no one else can't. And I'm grateful.

Also I saw the movie Warm Bodies and I really like the movie. The soundtrack was even better though :) It was perfectly my type of music, mixing the oldies with the new indies.

Also, Betty White turned 91 and I don't even care.

Exhausted from Running

Something about me is that I like to know the end before I know beggining. I read the last chapter of the book before I read the first, I watch the last episode fo the tv show before the beggining, and I always dream it before I do it. I thought I was covering my ground really, I think of every possibility good and bad. So how did I not see this coming? Partly because I really did see it coming and chose not to believe it. I knew really all a long, we all did, but we don't act on that because we don't want that to be the ending. Maybe if we don't believeit, it won't ever happen. Maybe if we don't dream it it won't come true. The problem is is that I did dream, One afternoon in Logan. I layed down to fall asleep because I was frustrated and was feeling really sad. I put my head phones in and the covers over my head. And I dreamed that my Dad got on a train, ( I actually blogged about the dream...I'm happy I did!) and the door closed before I could get on the train with him. In that train were a bunch of people I didn't know, but I knew I cared about. The train started as I was pounding on the door begging my Dad to let me in. The door didn't open and I ran after that train until I was to exhausted to chase it. I sobbed and I sobbed, for days in my dream, Then I woke up.

I dreamed it, and now I am exhuasted of running.

The Thousand Year Funeral

I learned recently that it never goes away by talking to my cousin in Art. We talk about her worst day and my worst day and even two years later I see a tear fall out of her eye. I want to cry too. I want to cry because I see that this will be a thousand year funeral.

 

Tired of Sleeping

I think I have always been amazed by language. It has always been amazing and thrilling to find that one can take single letters and dream it into something that people can connect with and understand. I can inspire someone! I have always wanted to be the person on the other end of the book. The person who dreamed it, not discovered it. And really, it doesn't seem to far fetched really since we all dream and we all really like our dreams. It's our nightmares that we don't like to share.

Nightmares though often become your reality, and your reality often becomes your dreams. And since this is true it is hard to go to sleep at night and when things aren't right and aren't the same you always seem to stay up later than the night before which is really crazy considering how tired you are from the day but it starts making sense how much more tired you are of going to sleep.

I want to write this down because I am creating something that is uniquely me out of something that belongs to everyone. And this nightmare and dream that we all live in is really just another story. I want to write this down, though, so I can remember the dreams and the nightmares as well. I wouldn't want to forget the bits and pieces that make up who I am and if it takes late nights to create integrity then maybe I wouldn't trade this for the world.

But maybe I would because sometimes I think I would trade this world for one more day. It's hard to be patient and it's even harder to fathom eternity and maybe I am being really selfish for being tired of sleeping because everyone else is tired of being awake and some how things are off balance and just plain not fair.

Actually, nothing really is fair anymore or ever was cause even as a baby we were all a situation and the people we are today were not somewhere there because a huge part of us were created by actions and choices and the other created by dreams and nightmares and sometimes we are maybe just trying to justify that one is right over the other even though really the line is just to blurry to tell.

And really if there is sentences and words and paragraphs and books we should all be mentioned in some book some day because all of us are dreaming or having a nightmare right now and it would be such a shame to never know how to tell the difference of that blurry line and about how people fall in love and if they were dreaming this or if they were afraid because as I have grown older I have realized that some people are afraid to love and this might be a nightmare but who knows anymore? I feel sad that love could be that way but I also feel sad that people are dying every day.

People really do die everyday and even though I don't even know their names I feel like I know them because I want to know them.

And maybe they were dreaming or having a nightmare or maybe they were tired of the day or else they were maybe tired of sleeping and maybe they had a thousand books written about them and maybe one person only had one word, and what really matters is that they at least had that word, even if they were tired of sleeping.