Taking Time

Finally I can update you! I love my blog, seriously. I love writing. It’s definitely my favorite thing to do. I got a great idea for a short story today as well! Stories and things other than poems intimidate me a tad. But I think starting with a “short” story is a good idea.

I’m feeling a bit of pressure to edit more poetry and faster as well. I want to apply to all my chosen universities by January of February, and that’s only leaving a couple or a few months. And I think I’ve got quite a bit of stuff to edit and write. I get ideas for poems all the time. Dang. Hum, maybe I think I need to make specific days and times for writing, like Tuesday mornings and Thursdays. Thursdays especially. I have THE ENTIRE DAY, and normally I just sleep late and sit on fat ass watching Discovery and History HD. I mean, that’s a pretty damn good way to spend a day. But there might be something better. MAYBE.

So I’ve been dying to write about love more. Trouble is, I think I’ve forgotten a lot of what I want to say. Bugger. LUCKILY, my ingenious and fantastical mind thought of carrying a notebook around everywhere, and is still young and maliable enough to recall thoughts.

I wrote in my journal a bit about what I (think) I want or need from love. A love. Like, romantic love. Whatever. And I thought about my own actions, of course. And what is love, anyway? I mean… some people say they get a feeling, they know when they meet that person, or they expience love at first sight. For some people, like my host parents, that works out, happily. But is that really  “love”? Like, in the instant, in the moment? It’s simple, romantic love, but I can’t take that seriously. I think it’s just because of my experiences, but it just seems skeptical to me, and I would be skeptical I think if I found myself thinking or feeling something like that. And frightened as well. And why do I even think about this so much. I find it to be a very irritating obesssion. Like, why does it matter? Why do I think about it, wonder about it with people I’ve just met. God, the thoughts are so automatic, I’m like a machine.

As strangling as it seems, it can be and mean so many different things. It has so many facets, like everything, I guess it doesn’t have to feel like that. Hum.

I want to be loved (I think), but not like in the past. There has to be more. Of something, some elements, some feeling or form or type of interaction that has thus far been absent. I think that for one, I give or gave my affection away too easily. On the one hand, I think it is okay to feel affection and attraction easily. It’s probably pretty normal, and it does serve a purpose. But that is where I become skeptical of falling in love at first sight, or “knowing” the one when you see them or whatever. Those things are still possible, a feeling or thought doesn’t usually directly, instantaneously or whatever lead to anything. Perhaps it only exists in hindsight as well. I mean, you can feel something intense, but if it doesn’t work out than maybe it doesn’t qualify. Whatever, I don’t care. My point is, that I mistook that instant, intense feeling for something special or deep, but I think in reality it’s not. It’s just a feeling I often get, like hunger or inspiration. Real love to me requires more time. A lot more time.

I think that in the past I wasn’t even aware of how I actually felt about someone, like under the insecurities and all. Nor under their real or perceived feelings for me. I often become aware of my real feelings or thoughts about something through random fantasies, thoughts and images. Thank god I have a very active imagination. The other day I was imagining a scenario often in my head: conversation with a fictional boyfriend asking one why we love or are with the other. A pretty important question. “Because you love and care for me”, I responded. In that moment I found that thought kind of alarming. There needs to me more detailed and BETTER criteria than “You care about me, so I care about you.”

I love all of this discovery and questioning. It’s like… fucking constantly Christmas everyday in my world. I always find or get something new to think about, and put into my mind. And I get to choose, to reprogram my own mind because of all the changes. God, my life is so awesome.

I’m dead tired. There is so much more I want to write and think and say… There is always more. It’s too much.



2 thoughts on “Taking Time

  1. Well everything is always maliable. I’m not really searching for a concrete definition, but perhaps, like a gelatinous definition. Though I do sense your sarcasm.

    I just feel like I have “issues” with love, like I need to figure it out more. And it is a very vast and interesting subject.

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