Certain Notes to Certain People Part I

I miss you terribly. This is for you.

This is probably going to be the most pathetic and for that reason (though it's not the only one), you must be the first. Yes, you were one of my boys, but I guess many say that you were more. And I don't disagree.

I cannot say the word "love" in this description for it will forever mar that word... but I did adore you like no other. You were like the others, and yet you still chose to stick around with my insanity. For while, I thought I had infected you with my craziness. It took me 2 months to realize that you were, in fact, crazy to begin with. But my admiration for you only grew.

And it remains to this day... and I confess that you are one of those people who leave such an impressionable mark on someone like me that it becomes hard to forget. Being one of the coolest kids I've ever met, you truly deserved more than what your heart gave you. But life is life, and it eventually ends. I'll visit you again on the 16th of February with the red dress. Together, we will mock the day set aside for lovers.

That is what I wrote for you one day, one of the many I find myself thinking about the past and the possible future. Against your spoken wishes, I thought of the what-ifs and at some point, I remember crying. For what I don't recall. But what, or who, I do recall is you. I confess that there are times when random thoughts of pies or muffins just drift to you. C'mon, you're a difficult person to forget easily, even at all. MANY girls would attest to that (me for different reasons... I hope).

I know that it would be impossible for you to get a hold of whatever goes on in what I'm typing right now, but as you did know, it helps to be an idiot sometimes and talk about your feelings. Right? Right.

But I really do miss you. Sorely. And I also confess that I feel bad at times when I laugh alongside someone else since there is a good chance that that someone else would still have been you. No worries, my thoughts of you won't continue to linger in my mind forever... but shall exist for said amount of time.

You made me promise you many things, one of them being that I would not stop myself from being happy no matter what. So trust me, I'm working on it.

P.S. That turned out quite sappy, which surely would make you scold me in a mild manner. All I have to say to that is this: That's for making me touch a tarantula.

A Letter to Someone

Dear Person,

I know that reaching out to you, whoever you are, in the form of a blog entry is demeaning and downright pathetic. But there's that sense of openness I can maintain without the pressure of concentrated anonymity. I don't know. Perhaps this is the way I can reach out to the void... in the form of my personifying that void, half-hoping (as I have taught myself to do throughout my almost 18 years) that it, he, she will respond.

I don't know where to begin talking about myself, whatever self there is to be had within me.

You know what? I don't know.
But... that's alright. I'm fine with that.

Confusion

There are questions people ask themselves on a daily basis, seeking with hopeful eyes the answers that do not wish to be uncovered. It is because of life's elusive answers (if they exist at all), that confusion is born within the hearts of many children, adolescents, idiots, and adults.

So many of us find ourselves in that rut many times in our lives, wondering if it is ever possible to be retrieved from such a problematic (or so some of us see the situation as) condition. Some may never even bother to search for a solution, finding it easier to just follow easily the twists and turns that life decides to take. On the opposite of that certain spectrum, there are those who will, for the rest of their days, find it abhorrent to be the mindless swine following something so unpredictable.

Where is the confusion there? Those two groups seem completely content to me, firmly believing in their own respective philosophies on how to handle the bitch called Life.
We forget a third group; a group most general and perhaps both small and extensive, depending on a countless number of factors. It is within this third group that bewilderment may thrive.

Within this third group (and I refuse to apologize for "grouping" teenage rebels who will be so awfully irate at the freedom I chose to take in such an action), the incredible ease at which the first group's Taoist ways carry out their lives will be enticing beyond all reason; and so, the attempt to do such a thing begins as certain individuals attempt to just live. That is, until an ill-starred happening poses a threat to the flow that, at one point, looked too smooth and effortless to be true. What then?

They are angered, of course. And thus, the dogma of the second extremist group invades the hearts of those in-between, making them go against the beliefs that they at first wished to hold true to. I cannot find it in my heart to curse at them under my breath. Anyone attempting to both enjoy and fight life would naturally find themselves in a state of perplexity and frustration most unfortunate.

How can you not? You wish to enjoy the existence you hold, following Life wherever it may lead, until it reaches certain points where things just do not seem appropriate. Did you deserve that at all? Why you? Why him? Why her? Why? Why? Why?

And so you begin to question. The questions continue to accumulate in your mind until one thought shines brightest amongst the throng of others: It is not fair.

Yet however true that statement may be, there are those in that group that is both massive and minuscule who will confront that thought several times in their lives, wondering who in their right state of mind would choose such a truth for both the good, the evil, and the real.

A Moment I'll Always Enjoy

Spending the whole day somewhere that mandates taking the freeway away from home with friends and/or family members...

At night, on the way back home, everyone's exhausted. People whisper private conversations around the car while some make do without a bed and pillow.

Soft musical notes slip from the speakers, lifting the awkward gravity of the silence without wholly removing its pleasant being.

Sitting in the passenger's seat with my head against the window, quietly allowing my thoughts drift here and there, exploring the universe. Words refuse to exit my lips while my ears willingly invite the quiet purring of the engine and outside air whizzing past. I patiently wait for the driver to say something while also hoping that he, too, enjoys the peace that has fallen upon the vehicle.

Mutual acknowledgment of each other's presence needn't be spoken. That is simply understood. And accepted.

He is happy.
I am happy.

And on continues the ride home from what will be remembered as a wonderful day.

---

I shall, for the entirety of my life, enjoy these moments during which the feeling of invincibility and vulnerability exist simultaneously in my body, mind, and soul.

How I No Longer Seek The Pleasure of Your Company

Within the last three months, one could say that many things have happened. The range of emotions covered in that time could describe the majority of the emotional spectrum.

Did a surge of happiness make me feel so elated to the point of no-return to reality?
Perhaps not, but a bystander may point out that I have been pretty damn happy.

Did there seem to be absolutely no point to life and thus make death a much more practical road to travel on?
Goodness, yes.

But because of all of that, I question the trust-- or "trust"-- entrusted to every person whose existence I hold dear to me. Friends, parents, other family members, it's almost confusing how things have turned out.

No, I am not lost but merely pensive as to what all of this will lead to. Will my parents and I still be in good terms with one other? Will I begin to talk about worthwhile things with people from church? Will my friends ever come back? Who are my friends? Questions like that force themselves into my mind everyday now. And as they continue their invasion and give birth to paranoia (Oh why must that harlot exist in the folds of my mind!), my stubbornness grows as well.

I haven't done anything wrong except for that one thing, is what I want to tell them. But being the youngest in such a patriarchal family deems my opinion to be the least important. My only hope right now is that I don't remain in this protective bubble of childhood for the rest of my life. Why can't they realize that?

My thoughts are jumbled and I am too apathetic at the moment to organize them. My apologies.