No Wardrobe

I thought that writing would make me feel better. And while it sometimes does, now isn't one of them. I thought I just wanted to go home. I thought that all I wnated was to spend the night in my old room, and feel safe. Never would I get the chance I thouhgt. I did. I know now, that I will never be able to go home. Life doesn't let you go back. It doesn;t give you a do-over. I found myself falling back into old routines. And silly things, like the way you walk down the stairs. You realize you can't really ever go back home

Shelled

I have to be myself. I have to. If I am not, what else am I? A mere shell of what I once wished I was, or the happiness that others derive from me, being what they what they want me to be. I keep wondering if I will find one to keep up with my quirkiness. They all seem so focused on themselves, even though I stand out, they can't see me. What am I doing? Waiting, hoping, waiting.......open your eyes, I'm right here.

Forward Motion

You find a place where you can just 'be" and then suddenly, it's gone. You try to rebuild that place over a few months time, and then, suddenly it too is gone. When you finally have the opportunity to, perhaps, build that place again, do you take it? Do you spend all your time and effort trying to fool yourself into thinking that; "You are home."? You can lie awake at night in a strange room and pretend that it is the one place that you actually felt safe. You can pretend that the sounds you hear are familiar, but deep down you know that they are not. I've moved........yet again.......back into a place that was not once as I left it though the small things remain the same. My room is the way it was. But it's not my room. It never will be. My room is a little solarium facing the port. Were you can see the moon, the stars, and the clouds. You could hear the creaking of the plexi-glass and climb on the roof. I will never be in my room again. I will always be moving, but I hope that someday, when I actually do have a home, that I will have a room. All my own.

Rendezvous

I know, it’s been a long time. Like parting ways with a very dear friend. You think about that friend from time to time and wonder if you will ever be reunited. This was once my haven and I lost it. I tried to find a new one, but it failed. There is something that the Circadian Heartbeat fills that nothing else has, not even a new blog could do that. It’s also a good way to deal with life when you have no one to talk to. My other blog will be for that boy, but this is me and my life. I miss being able to say things in here that I know only a few people will ever read. It’s my secret. Like hoping that someone is watching you as you make a fool of yourself splashing in puddles when it rains. It’s your secret, yet you hope that someone knows and is keeping it too.

I Love You

Sock's blog has been discovered by her parents, and in turn mine has too. So since I know that my beloved aunt and uncle might possibly read this post, this is what I want to tell them; I love you both up to the moon and back. You are my second set of parents and I love and respect you both so much. I know that you most likely will not agree with me but let me just say this. The content of Sock's blog is her thoughts and feelings. She was not making any of this up. If you are offended by what she wrote, you have a right to. When things are said about us without our knowledge, it is a natural reaction the become angry at those who said them. You may think Socks should have just told you how she felt. Maybe she couldn't. Maybe she can't. Maybe she just doesn't know how. Whatever the case, you cant blame her for feeling the way she does. Don't take this wrong at all. I am only trying to be objective. You know this is hard for me because I love you both, and Sock's is my other half. Maybe this timing is good. Maybe it's not. All I want you to know that I love you all.

Forever yours,

Eva

Bittersweet Ending

Today is my 18th birthday. I'm happy it has finally come, yet I mourn the cruel fact that my childhood is finally over. I still act like a child, and will always, but now I can never say; "Don't be mean to me! I'm just a kid!" Now that I'm an adult I have to take on all the things life 'thinks' adults can handle. My adulthood has come at last. And it is with mixed emotions that I say goodbye to my childhood, forever.

Desparing

I’m back at college and I remember why I hate it so much. Teachers who don’t teach their subject and ramble on about what they believe instead. Friends who complain endlessly about their problems. Me, who as hard as I try, cannot be optimistic about my future. Optimism. Where on earth does it come from? I can't even fathom. The future is a winding path that maliciously gives us a false picture of where it’s going to lead us. I am cognizant of the surprises now. I guess. At times I wish my life could be unfolded like a map, so that I could see where I’m going. Instead I follow that winding path to every dark and unusual place it leads me. I know, I know. You’re thinking, “What a downer! Has she no bright outlook on life?” About this point in my life, you would be correct. I am a downer, and I can’t get out of it. I want to be happy and full of sunshine, but my sun has dimmed and the energy has stopped sustaining me. I guess I’ve followed the path in to a dark part of the woods. One where the canopy of leaves is so thick, hardly any sun can get through. I will keep on following this path and hope that it leads me to a sunny meadow. For now, I’m walking, lost in the dark.