SheFallsSoftly

Well, I’ve failed miserably at my New Year’s resolution so far this year, but I’m not really surprised. If I can’t plot out the process in my agenda, there’s really no chance of something happening these days. The best I can do is focus and hope, which is really all you can do in any situation.

Much like the start of any semester I’m high strung and confused, and additionally I’ve got a new(ish) relationship to be felt out and am trying (and failing miserably) not to alienate all of my friends in the process of balancing that and my need to get really good grades this semester. Not to mention the fact that I am working around 6 shifts a week (comes to about 25 hours) besides my second job (10 hours a week) for some reason completely beyond my comprehension. Essentially, I am busy every night except (sometimes) those on the weekend until around 9pm. Most of the days that I have I’m frantically trying to process the reading for 18 hours worth of soft science classes, and to keep my apartment orderly and stocked with things to eat on the off chance i remember to eat them.

What I hate most about exactly this point in winter is how I start to doubt everything. It’s so full of beginnings, new year, new semester, classically this period coincides with some sort of new boyfriend type issue.. And so I spend all of my time wondering who I want to be for the future that will follow this new beginning, and the part of me that wants desperately to be that relaxed and comfortable girl who is at home in her skin and happy with her life will never come to fruition particuarly because i spend time worrying about being her. And of course, it’s the beginning of a swimsuit season so I feel the obligatory weight issues that come with walking into your favorite store and realizing that there is a rack of bikinis out instead of comfy outerwear. Most remarkably, though, I’m becoming highly disconcerted by my sudden and intense fear of change. When did I start to worry about and try to prevent  the natural flow of things? It’s terribly unlike me and I’d truly like to stop.

This entry contains enough rambling that it has merited a place in the "useless whining" section of my journal.

this is hard and i blame november.

Had the UCO tournament recently, went 4-2 in prelims, got walked over by Eicher and Yost in quarters. Lindsay and I recieved 9th and 7th speaker respectively.

School is progressing, I’m  not certain I’m enjoying it, but I am doing my best to keep up. A long paper due today that I’m presently procrastinating on, and another due next week that I haven’t even considered starting. Much to do, little time, so many distractions.

I thought before, "Would my life be easier if I’d never met you?" and I answered "Yes." But that’s not the question is it? Simplicity just doesn’t make for happiness with me.

"Maybe" is a sin against my quiet lips, so I sit, brash, uncertain.

"Tomorrow" is an idol once I worshipped but now vainly reject.

"Promise" is a self deluded begging of the question, even though I know the answer is not "yes"

"Why?" is a plea I just can’t make again.



All I have these days are distance, questions, regrets… All I want is quiet reassurance and to learn how to forget. In lieu of you, I’d take nothing else, no matter the foolish things I’ve said.

4:01:55 PM youaremy7thseal: (moment of rare simplicity.  you can thank me for it later.)  I am certain that I am not in love with you.  I am uncertain that I will never be.

The most notable aspect of my life recently is a quiet sort of sadness that I just can’t seem to understand… Really, I mean, I’m happy. I’m doing well, I couldn’t much ask for more without feeling greedy.

I’ve been doing well in school, at least well enough to get by. My personal life has quieted down a bit, my friends are safe and I’m learning how to sleep alone. My mother finally called me back so I’m not worrying about her anymore. I’m moving soon, so I’ll be able to feel like I can be myself in my space.

Maybe I just feel out of control of all the things that are happening… Maybe I’m intimidated by this new feeling of being alone. I know that part of me is afraid that no one will ever love me with the passion with which I love. Part of me is afraid that I’ll never learn to love someone else. I worry that I’m settling, and that I’m aiming too high for something I don’t want, and that there’s nothing in life I really love to do.

Maybe I feel like I’ve just been going through the motions… I’m single so I’m pursuing, and it’s a lot of fun but it’s sort of predictable I guess. I don’t really want a new boyfriend, I don’t really know what I want.

I’m feeling pretty guilty for sleeping (no, really. sleeping.) over with someone recently… It was the sort of over emotional thing I’ve grown accustomed to doing recently, and I must have thought to myself 10 times in the course of the night that I really had to leave. I just can’t handle being so dependent on someone anymore, but I can’t say no to the offer of not having to be alone, even for just one night.

I never learned to trust my instincts, only learned to ride the waves as they come. This may just be one of those things I cannot coast through, I might have to make a choice sometime soon.

I’m on a new antidepressant, and I’m finding the world harder to deal with than ever before. The first few weeks are supposed to be like this, and then when enough builds up in my system it’s supposed to get easier… It’s just hard to get through this part.

I feel distinctly like no one understands me today, and there is not enough trust in those relationships I truly cherish.

There is nothing worse than getting criticism from someone you consider your lesser.

Does pinocchio live in fear that if he’s ever a bad boy again he’ll get turned back into wood?

My metaphors are overly vague and also stupid.

Ch: "Platypus is a funny word."

W: "Platypus is a funny animal."

C: "It uses too much racial humor for me."

Massive edit. I never seem to say quite what I want to.





I don’t know how many times I’m going to repeat these mistakes, but it’s hurting more and more every time now.

Don’t start games that you don’t intend to finish. It’s callous and cowardly.

Sometimes I remind myself that I’m not strong enough to play these games, but then I remember that I’m not weak enough to take this abuse.

I don’t really have any exciting news at all. The feminist potluck was quite the time, the middle east has gone even more insane than the norm, I’m spending the first week of August in Vegas.

I wouldn’t say that I’m unhappy, just a bit let down. Every time I think I’ve moved on, some offhanded moment pulls me back to the start. It’s so easy to be bitter anymore…

The defining characteristic of this week has been the sheer overature of time constraints and activities needing to be done… All of this stress is causing me to dream more often, and the dreams are more and more disturbing. I imagine that what causes this is something like the following;

Like all animals, Casey creates waste must be released from her body in order for her to live. Trees do this by releasing oxygen, aerobic respirators by releasing carbon dioxide, and so on. Casey generates extra "emo" in everyday life that must be released into her journal or some other mechanism. When she doesn’t find the time to release this emo, she suffers from what is formally known as emo obstruction. This is a backup of emo waste that has lodged itself into Casey’s subconcious that causes disturbing and over-emotive dreams which trouble her ability to properly rest. This is supposed to trigger late night emo-release via panicked phone calls and journal entries, however this may not always work. Emo is a toxic substance, and can be deadly when left in the body for too long of a period.

Next week, I’ll draw diagrams.

"Half the world and the broken sea lie between you and me"-Sarah Teasdale, Sleepless

So I overstimate the distance. We’ll call it poetic hyperbole.