Day's like this...

It's amazing how restless rainy days make me feel.
A bit like an outer shell, you know?
Better sweep, better mop, better wash.
Better wine...wind down, I mean.
I don't even know where those words used to come from.
Someone else, I guess. Someone else it feels like anyway.
Even when I'm happy, I'm not sure that's me.
It was happy looking back and so maybe it will be again, looking back, later.
But there's something else, something bigger and better, lurking.
Waiting out there, even when I find it, there's something else.
What does that mean? ...about me?
Yeah, they were on to something with that one.
I doubt I need a pill, though.
Never could subscribe to any pills out there.
Can't subscribe to anything anymore anyway.
Even before the veil was peeled, it didn't matter.
That does seem like a good excuse to anyone, and myself, too.
Couldn't subscribe, couldn't do that anymore anyway.
Restless on a rainy day. Everyday anyway anymore.
More, that too. Need some more in me, I think.
There are just a lot of different directions to go.
But I can't subscribe to any of it anymore,
long enough for it to matter.
You know because I can't see the matter in it anymore.
In the small things, I mean, you know?
The small things that make a larger thing, life.
So, yeah, i'm restless on a day like this.
All the days like this. Everyday. Like this.
I can't ever gather all the little things,
in order to make a bigger picture.
I'm not ever sure that's what I want to do,
or what I'm supposed to do,
or that's what I want to do.
I remember when...
I could step back and see some scene of expectation.
Expecting something moving, and finding it in smaller things.
Moving like things that make you feel, not momentum.
Though, some movement would be nice.
Maybe now i've come to the point of something, finally.
The point is stagnation. Not a fine point, pretty dull.
Dumb word, pretty ugly, too, literally. Literarily.
Am I scared that we're settled?
Not that we've settled.
But maybe that we're settled in this...thing, place. Life.
I think i've thought these thoughts before, actually, remembering now.
Movement is an important part of life.
Movement of the mind, this could be the point, too.
Not another point, I think there's only one.
Just a feeling, its just one thing, sort of feeling.
It is all fine, you know, it's all actually pretty fine.
Just a rainy day like this, anyway, makes me feel small.
Danger's calling anyway, gotta run now.
That's something, at least. For now.


Fear of heights and machine guns.

I need to write. It's been so long and something is bothering me. I've had two completely different dreams and they both end up with me getting shot with an automatic weapon in my legs. There is never any blood. In the last dream, I picked the bullet out of my leg myself and it was no bigger than a BB gun bullet. I was up on the window ledge of a building, what seemed like 50 stories high. I don't remember why I was up there but there were Army men, several of them, on the building next to the one I was on and they shot at my with machine guns on turrets. I knew I wasn't the one they were meaning to shoot, I knew they were looking for someone else but they didn't think twice and shot at me. It woke me up after I picked one bullet out of my leg.
 The first dream was a little scarier. It started with, believe it or not, Carrie Fischer (as Princess Leia) leading me on what was like some kind of highway of branches across a forest of trees. We were with a group of explorers that discovered a new planet. I know...nerd. Anyway, it was kind of dark and pretty foreboding, doesn't sound like it now, but it was. A few more weird things happened, like when I spotted a chain link fence in the wilderness and was confused because it was supposed to be a new place but there were cheap chain-link fences everywhere, all around. A few more things happened, I don't know. Then I remember it was two girls I didn't know, Liz & me all sitting in the front of a car. Liz and I were looking at the internet on her phone, looking up some clothes or something. There were four men, one with a machine gun, three were doing something in a red truck, like selling drugs or loading something. I was trying not to pay attention because I didn't want them to notice us. Him having the gun wasn't that alarming to us, like it was something sort of normal in the place in my dream. Anyway, as they were all getting in the truck the man with the machine gun shot at all four of us but only hit my legs. I knew he had only hit my legs and was praying that he would stop shooting so only my legs would be hit. I was also hoping that Liz didn't get hit or she only got hit in her legs, too. I woke up a second later feeling really panicked.
Both dreams were really disturbing and dark. Even during the dream there was a lot of fear and heaviness. I looked it up online, just googled it actually, and there's a ton of crap about dream interpretation and you can't rely too much on any of it, but all the websites pretty much said the same thing. Getting shot in the legs specifically can mean a feeling in a lack of independence, like not being able to stand on your own feet. It can also mean vulnerability, fear of attack. Shooting dreams in general can mean those things, too, but in a broader sense they can represent a confrontation in daily life, feeling of being persecuted, attacked or things like that. Blood represents a whole different thing, apparently, but I never saw any. Dying or thinking your going to die was also separate part of "shooting" dreams, but since I was shot in my legs I thought both times that I knew I would survive but it was going to be painful and scary. How fast it happened scared me a lot and is scary to think about. Someone shooting an automatic weapon at me, round after round, woke me up almost immediately both times. Anyway, in the end of it all, I think my mom making me watch 24 with her is to blame. That, or Adam leaving the tv on all night. Who knows what my subconscious is watching? So, dreams are interesting. I needed to get all this onto paper...keyboard. Ok, see ya in another 6 months, blog.
Edit, Edit, Edit... Because I just looked up what height, or fear of heights signifies, which were a big part of both of my dreams. It kind of all makes sense because fear of heights "supposedly" can signify being scared or incapable of reaching a goal or dream. Well, this makes sense, because as fun and important as it is to be there for a newborn/toddler's first year, etc, I still feel rather useless and unsuccessful business wise. I can easily pacify myself with reassurance from Adam and other people that raising a baby is so important, and I know it is. But maybe my subconscious isn't buying it. Just, maybe. That, or watching 24...could be that, too...


I'm not an artist.

I'm working on a website with four of my friends that should be up and running eventually-- 5girls1blog.com.  It'll be a couple weeks I think. Then i'll start writing regularly on that. I've had this for a while though but never used it. I posted some random stuff that I deleted because it was crap. I used to "blog" a lot, haha what a dumb word. I used to write a lot online on xanga, I don't think that's a site people use anymore, though. That was years and years ago. Anyway, I used to like it. That was before anyone had any reason to care about what I said online. Ha, not that anyone does now. Some kids...and I guess even some adults... think they know all about me now though, or at least my husband. It's nuts how once people put themselves in the spotlight they lose almost all hope of owning themselves. It's like all the sudden they're owned by every kid with a critical opinion and internet connection.  It's just lame to me how people are so critical.  Like that saying, "if you can't be an artist, be a critic."  I guess it's not really a big deal. It just seems kind of sad to me. Kids scratching and clawing to stay hip by saying that they love this band and hate this band and wear these bracelets and don't like their moms. Just be cool. Calm down. You don't know anything about "famous" peoples' relationships. Who cares anyway? They're just people, anyway. Is that why you watch movies or listen to music? Because you know each and every artist, judge their lives accordingly, then chose to listen to/watch their art? Or do you connect with them through their music/art? That makes more sense to me.  I'm not complaining, I guess this isn't something that I think about a lot, it's just that I feel a little disappointed when I can feel self-consciousness radiate from a 16 year-old girl because she has to portray this attitude of pretentiousness/disinterest/uniformity to fit into this wildly popular "counterculture." Pretty obvious that you're not being different by trying to be just like someone else... Right? What do I know...

Whatever, I feel like i've been judged a lot since Adam and I got married. In the end, I really don't give a shit because it only bothers me on a surface level and for different reasons than vanity or hurt feelings. I play with a baby and change dirty diapers and pick bugs off my dog. It bothers me more because these people sit at home, wasting their time on internet stuff, like gossiping about things that are lies anyway, when they could be writing, reading, learning, building people up instead of tearing them down, creating instead of wondering about some worthless internet drama. 

Well, in a round-about sort of way I'm doing the same thing right now. So, anyway. Oh well whatever nevermind.  I just think it'd be cooler if there was a shift in this whole scene. Certain internet sites, influential bloggers, whatever, promote such criticism of and sense of entitlement over bands, celebrities, fashions, etc.  It'd be a lot cooler if people would be way slower to judge, way less harsh in their judgments (obviously not all music is going to appeal to all people...obviously),  just more respect in general... More respect for themselves, for their friends, for their enemies (especially when they do not know them at all), and for artists who put their work out there.  You try it, put yourself out there, whether musically, artistically, verbally and then see how it feels when people tear the shit out of it for no other reason than they have the forum and they are entitled.  Ha, but i'm not an artist, so what do I know anyway?