my body is craving him today among other things.


i threw myself out into the open world today against my will. into traffic, loud strangers, and hot air. i found a beautiful sunset and a reminder of who i once was. i remembered how music saved me, and found me at blissful or awful times, and how my passion for music always remained unchanged among pure inconsistency. it would make me feel more than i typically allow, or even less if need be. there is something so freeing about listening to my headphones in solitude. music set to the passing images of daily life seem to make living desirable.

i've decided to let optimism and pessimism battle it out themselves for my attention today. maybe it's just the cream soda and twilight zone marathon, but optimism is winning. my mind has been paging through the simple things that i find pleasing. my mind seems to be satisfied at the mere thought of them. it reminds me that my heart finds love in the midst of turmoil. it seems as though my mind has been enjoying declaring apocalypse and watching my body attempt to fight back.

i'm not quite sure why i chose to stay home tonight and stray away from the party.

i suppose a party wouldn't have felt like a party tonight. maybe i am ashamed of others desires and intentions. instead i'd like to tell myself that i am just tired. it's so challenging for my other half to be so adventurous and free. the most spontaneity i could muster up in a week could not hold a match to what he could accomplish in one day. at the mention of a party he doesn't think twice. he could be in bed at 2 in the morning, well into sleep, and i believe you could startle him awake with air horns and he would open his eyes slowly and greet you warmly. i believed that i was becoming more free, but it seems as though that idea is slipping away.

i'm not so sure why i'm so private. i'm silently screaming at myself to remain the girl he fell in love with.

today was tiring.

the sun is exhausting and unforgiving, and i've got tan lines to prove it. there are words that have been at the tip of my tongue today, but i'm almost sure that my mind subconsciously abandons speaking them. when my mind and body excercise free will, it makes life seem intimidating. to fathom your personal limits is a strange experience, because you suddenly realize that you are your only restraint. you maintain the life that you think society accepts, and requires you to be. in my mind the 500 dollars in my account is not my own. i see that it belongs to paying the rent, utilities, and food for where i choose to live. i forget that my life is my own.

but at this very moment, there isn't one thing i couldn't attempt. i could sneak out of my bedroom window unseen and hitchike across america if i chose to do so. i could buy a plane ticket to any location, buy 500 dollars worth of oh, say cracker jacks, and abandon my ability to speak and use only sign language until the day i die. i could burn my bras and never look back. i could scream at the top of my lungs in a library. or i could simply leap off of a building.

to imagine what we are capable of doing, and what we restrict ourselves to doing represents the idea that we are only as free as we allow ourselves to be. we are slaves to the idea of consequence and judgement. it is both what keeps us alive, and what keeps us from living.

tonight i'm just tired and have been itching to crawl into bed since i've left it this morning. somehow, going to run errands seems to only discourage me from going out again. the stares and the sounds; sigh. and the span of this entire week i've somehow managed not to be beautiful even just once. no sundress in the world can make me feel beautiful in the midst of heat. indoors is not much escape.

i find myself lately wishing that i could selfishly read minds to obtain perspective on how others view me. i know what mirrors tell me, but one really only sees a 2-dimensional form of themselves. i wonder what my laugh sounds like, and if shorts make me appear as lanky as i believe they do. i wonder what i look like when i'm sleeping, or when i playfully cross my eyes. i wonder what nationality and age a person would guess me to be, and whether they think i hold unconventional beauty or nothing at all. i wish someone unexpected would make up my mind for me; that others efforts combined would somehow measure a realistic expectation of self-esteem. i have this permanent idea of recognizing myself as being inferior. i believe that my talent of being entirely well-rounded is moreso a curse, and i dislike the idea of being average at most things instead of talented at a few things. my mentality is relentless at pointing out prettier beings.

it's beginning to seem more than coincidence that everytime i post i am in the same physical positon. tonight he gently snores while one arm lays carefully over his chest, with his legs weightlessly resting above mine. i suppose i might've spoken too soon about the quiet snoring, because the sound has increased now. the sound gives me permission to type faster and louder without concern of waking him.

tonight is not different but tonight is new. my foot has begun to inch to the point of me desiring to flinch, but after keeping him awake for as long as i managed to tonight, i have sacrificed relief. my mind has taken to the idea of solitude but my body refuses to follow. my body strays away from the spaces my tiny body has found comforting, and into other rooms and buildings with inconsistent temperature and sounds. i tell myself that it is good for me to remove myself from what i find to be comfortable. at times when i do venture out, i quickly find regret and rediscover why i wish i would have obeyed my instincts. my regret typically stems from trying to find my way to places from the new house, or leaving the house without realizing how little effort i've put into getting dressed and presentable. it worsens when he is with me because then i cringe at the thought of what he might be thinking of me, or what others could be thinking of us. i'd imagine they'd silently frown to themselves in disapproval of a girl who wrecklessly dresses herself.

when i'm bored the music isn't quite loud enough and the colors on the screen aren't bright enough. my stomach is antsy, and i like to purposely make the mistake of interpreting it as hunger. my boredom drove me to look through old pictures, but i've become discouraged at the notion that my physical appearance hasn't change much at all in the past two years. it's too hot in the bedroom to dance even in my underwear, too cold downstairs to cook, further car repairs are needed before travel, and the television won't allow me to finish the movie i was watching. at my request it simply shows me a 1-800 number to dial if the problem persists.