List leads to other stuff

Wonderful.
How did the world get so beautiful?
I love plants of all sorts.
I love animals (that will not kill me).
I do not love bugs (unless they don't leave me alone, because bugs have their perhaps too).
I am not particularly a fan of cars, but used to play with hot wheels.
I am very happy in coffee shops.
I don’t watch that many movies.
I watch anime and read manga.
I ride the bus.

Oh no! That lovely light that was over everything is gone.
Flowers look so delicate, but when the wind blows they do not break off. No instead they dance.
Back itches.

A day has passed. I slept in my childhood room last night. The internet is slow in this part of the house.

When someone has a scan done to their liver they cannot help, but think the worse. I know my liver is not happy, but how unhappy is it? Could it be the reason I am tired, and once this problem is fixed I will feel energetic? When I was on one of my sides I could feel the waves from the scan in my head. Kind of like that electrical surge cranking I used to get in the back of my head, but weaker. So very slight that it was hard to notice, but it was there.

Soooo… after the liver scan I went with my Mom to get some hospital food, and I had a cappuccino, and for some reason it is working this time (giving energy).

Another brain feeling comes when I am reading (books or anime). It feels like something is fighting through the dullness, and turning on my mind. It is a good feeling that makes me want to focus, and learn.

Oh so yawnful. My brother used the word yawnful the other day, and I wandered if I picked it up from him, or if he had read something I wrote. I thought yawnful was something I made up, but I also thought that I came up with icky (a long time ago) and then I learned a friend of my sister had said it all the time.

Oh those days. That was before my brain felt like anything at all. Not this tired, rusty, sensitive fussiness.

As you can see I am obviously trying up some cat pictures of my own, instead of just scanning the web for special ones.

After so long a poem... is it a poem? Yes because I say so

Flip flop, summer has come,
my sandals have yet to see the beach,
have they ever seen the beach,

the ground is wet,
I smelled
yesterday, like wet ground
wet fertilized ground.

(I walk into this and was quite upset.) 

I sat in the room,
with a window ceiling,
and waited for group,
perhaps my last

as a college student,
I might be swimming instead,
but
not at the beach,
not at the dunes I fearlessly climbed,
I climbed steep ground the other day,
scared my sandals would fail me. and
I would slip, rolling
down,
hitting bush and tree

my legs are weak
from too much sleeping
from too much seating

a yellow container of water,
ice melted,

the bathroom was hot the other day,
after scrubbing the tub I turned on a hot shower,
to wash the cleaner away,

the door was closed as I mopped,
pushing against the ground,
wondering if this mop did anything at all

I have never been a good mopper,
when I was a kid I used a rag and a bucket,
on my hands and knees,
mopping is a skill that is just beyond me,

I can vacuum, cook (Macaroni and Cheese), wash dishes,
when I clean I work endlessly. Focusing on every detail.
then my weak hands (from sleeping) start to complain,
like holding a pencil in elementary,

Rolling down the dunes,
a vast desert of ups and downs,
finding resting spots away from light,
running down to the water,

when I was baked in the sun,
after being lost in the dunes for hours,
I soaked in the bathtub,
anything to help the pain.
I’ve never been so red,
and will never be again.

I was better at moving and yard work when I was younger,
I did not have this air of delicacy,
pulling down vines and cutting down branches,
I climbed into the trashcan to push it all down,
one of those vines was poison ivy.

My Mom had never seen poison ivy that bad,
I lay awake at night just wishing that I were normal,
when I returned to school I proudly told my friend all the gross details,
which for the sake of my stomach I will not reminisce,

the horrible smell of vegetables are polluting my nose,
the party kind, stale and… well, polluted with chemicals,

Journeys not going so well

I went on the journey of getting to an interview. I looked up the bus routes (as my car was out of batteries), and looked at the streets on google map so I could get from where I thought the bus would stop to the interview. I miss my stop and I figured that I had given myself enough time so I continued my journey until I gave up. As for the number that was used to call me. It just rings and rings. Ahhhh.

It is fine, I guess. I need to start looking for jobs that will look good on a resume. Oh, and the swim class will not count as an academic, but I don’t need to take it because apparently I only need 3 credits. I could take the money I would have spent on swimming and do Yoga classes! (It turns out I do need 5 credits... there was a mix up where the adviser said I needed 3, but he meant 3 more then 2. I figured out this possibility and called him.)

I feel empowered and alive. I can shape my life right now. I can find where I want to live. I can… focus where I put my job searching efforts. Something tells me a job will come soon.

Oh, I caught myself up on Naturo… again. Not the comics, but the shows. Lets see… I am having my liver checked out for anything weird. My Bro is coming to pick me up. In order to focus all my classes on two days of the week instead of four I changed Native American Lit to Women’s Lit. Now while there are a broad number of hours that the classes are laid out, it is at least just all in one day.

My shoe smells. I was walking over some grass, and I was walking around a puddle, but my sandal hit wet ground and sunk in. Now my lovely sandal smells like grass fertilizer. It is a good thing I concluded that I would need to wear un-formal shoes with my outfit (because I would be walking a bit). I went into Barnes and Nobles and rinsed my shoes off. I told my story to the Muslim woman beside me. It is not often I get a chance (the courage) to talk to strangers.

I should make a fool of myself more, so I can enjoy that moment where the stranger’s face changes from, “Why are you talking to me.” to “This is actually amusing.”

I just finished seating here for a few minutes with my mind wandering from topic to topic wondering what to write next. The flow of thoughts that usually comes from the simple act of pushing down keys in a pattern has not come.

So I seat here with a tiredness hanging over me… a skirt on my legs and a shirt on my torso, the air conditioning sending goose bumps all over my freshly shaved legs. My swimsuit seats at home (my apartment) with a hot air balloon covered towel, and a brown pair of flip-flops.

I smell I am sure, even if the lady at the counter said otherwise. I feel like partying. The sky is so beautiful. A crow or raven just flew by as I looked up at the massive skylight.

Adios

La la la la

It appears that I have something in my brain that moves without command. Today for example I found myself making the sign of the cross without even thinking of God. Sure it was in a state of nervousness over classes starting up again, but it is not something I am the habit of doing. Yesterday I drove into a shopping center I had convinced myself not to go into. Some people develop involuntary movement on the medications I am on. Is it possible to develop involuntary actions (not the kind known as heart beat)?

There was this feeling the other day. My brain felt tight in a certain area like to parts where pushing together, and then there was a snapping feeling between the parts as if they had broken apart. As soon as it snapped the pressure was gone. I need to go clean up stuff. Ba Bye.

Dreams

Fighting with the feeling that things are boring, that this movie is boring when I am sure I would have loved it in another state. Here I am. This morning… yes it is not afternoon yet. I began contemplating my dreams and how the medication has changed them. Very soon after starting my medication path I begin to dream about people and books and movies that are in my life. I was happy to have dreams I could understand.

When I was a child no matter how much I wanted it I would not dream about say a book like the Lord of the Rings, or later Inu Yasha. In the end I had one dream for each of them. Now that I am on medications for a while I had so many dreams about Sasuke (anime) that I begin to wonder what he meant to me. Now I kind of miss the old dreams.

My old dreams felt deeper. I fell into another world. While now I just barely touch the surface as if I am looking at a reflection of the world of dreams. In a book I read by Robert Jordan (actually quite a few books) sometimes people dreaming could enter into another realm like place. Perhaps it has been so long since I dreamed deeply that it is slowly wearing me out.

It is not just I. People on the medications I am now (at higher doses) complain of dull dreams, plus a dull feeling brain. As for the dull brain, activity takes my focus off of it. So my feeling of boredom is gone. While I do not write as much now in the summer, I have to admit that writing helps me. I guess it is my way of playing chess. Chess is not active enough for my brain even if it is very active for some people.

Writing holds potential for me. I can write the world I can no longer touch. If I could only know how.

Writing is like a knife to fight the boredom, just like entering free sweepstakes gets me doing something during the horrible uneasy feeling. I am training my mind, and every action gets me further from crawling up into a ball in my lazy boy chair.