I'm not in it to win it.. I'm in it for you.

This is one game I will not compete in.

Laundry Thoughts

The laundromat. South Side Suds. Just a place, a location. A room filled with the quiet humming of washers in their spin cycle and the soft noise that comes when clothes tumble together. Apartments never feel like home unless theres a washer and dryer. I guess thats why this laundromat feels more like home than anywhere else. There's just something about laundry.
It's hard to explain sometimes. The way we feel. Maybe even impossible. I guess thats why we write, or paint, or sing, or build things, or workout, or become hermits. Somebody said something interesting to me today.. he said..

"You can sit all day in sweats and watch movies and never be uncomfortable, but life is supposed to be uncomfortable..that's how you know you're getting somewhere."

I'm afraid that I'm so afraid of being uncomfortable that I'm just coasting through life. There's another quote that hit me pretty hard.. It's from the book Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert..

"Stop wearing your wishbone where your backbone ought to be"

What's wrong with me? There's a large part of my brain that screams.."mostly nothing" Sure I've got issues..doesn't everyone? Quirks, bad habits, things to learn. But I don't think those things constitute being wrong. Shouldn't I be able to be who I am.. all the time? Without having to apologize for it? Isn't that okay? Normal even? Needless to say there's a bit of a civil war going on in here. Where did I get all this patience? I've never experienced a patient day in my life and now all of a sudden I can wait forever? What is happening to me.. I'm pretty sure I never learned how to compromise either.. and now I don't even compromise I just give in. I'm afraid of these new developments they feel like trying to fit into your little sisters clothes. Too tight.. the wrong fit. I'm not sure there's anyone in the whole world tailored to fit me.. does that mean I'm doomed to always being something I'm not? Or is there someone who's willing to just accept and love anyway? I know I'm spoiled. Spoiled rotten in fact.. I've even been accused, tried, and found guilty by many more than just my parents. I know this is the most spoiled thing to say of all.. but so what? Ahh.. life never gets any easier. This turned into ramblings.. but I mostly just needed to get the thoughts out of my head.. or I was in danger of doing something drastic. Possibly taking a long run at night in Southtown without my mace.. or trying to cut my own hair.. or attempting to induce a food coma.. or j-walking across the highway..possibly even driving straight out of Corvallis until my car ran completely out of gas and then just waiting for someone to rescue me. But I've spent the majority of my life waiting for that someone.. and I've come to the conclusion that millions before me have already realized.. you can only save yourself. Maybe I'll try turning my phone off for days.. i hear that's liberating. As if I don't already have enough going on up in my swollen brain I now have to try and cram Middle English from the 15th century up there. Who knows where it will fit..but I suppose it must be done.

The only answer that could make any sense at all is that I'm crazy. Just plain crazy.

Done

I'm done done done done done. I'm tired..no exhausted. I'm throwing you as far as I can with both hands and the energy of an exploding soul. I'm cutting my hair. I'm painting my fingernails, and I'm shrugging off whatever words you left behind. They were all lies anyway. So that's it. I will not waste one more minute of my day wishing, or thinking, or embracing this feeling because it's worthless. I'm exhausting myself with the same sob story and its really time to break the cycle.

If running from your problems was an olympic sport I'd be a gold medalist.

I will stop this.

I will face my problems head on, because I'm strong enough.

I will no longer lower my eyes or put my head down because its what you want.

That's not who I am.

I'm opinionated, and like to vocalize.

My opinions aren't set in stone, they change.. almost daily in fact.

I'm independent.

And just because I have a strong soul doesn't mean I'm femininst.

I believe in family and I want to be a mother more than anything.

I can not be forced.

I hate your laptop and everything associated with it.

I hate your stupid smile.

Never again will I let someone tell me what I think.

That's it.. I'm done.

Here It Comes...Again

She lay flat on her back, white pillows cushioning her head, so heavy with the thoughts of a million memories marching in dramatic circles through the devastated battlefield of her brain.
Her dark hair displayed against the whiteness, like a stain. Proof of her inability to conform.
Her body encased by the fluffiest cloud of blankets, supporting, holding her from sinking straight through the bed and drowning in her own self-loathing.
The darkness of the room doesn't try hard enough to seep into her white skin. Skin that is white as the sheets beneath her. She has no scars, not on the outside atleast. The resting place her soul has chosen is a master of deception.
Her eyes, large, rimmed with lashes that were built for battle. Protection for the only windows she has. Pupils that stretch trying to suck in as much life as they can. Tears fall. Leaving invisible trails down her soft cheeks. Each tear containing a hope or a wish that has lost its will to be discovered.
How has this happened? What combination of force, pressure, flattery, and iron strength will did it take to bury her glow? How many colors will she have to paint before she remembers the one she was born with? Why are they trying so hard to extinguish her?