Let me write you a letter.
Dear Blog People:
I need to go to bed. I'm really tired. But I stumbled upon some very old and random music that Krista and I made on Myspace of all places! It feels weird to hear your own voice in your head phones. Hard not to hear everything wrong with it. However, this was so long ago its more enjoyable for the memory of it. Its weird how sounds from the past can kind of transport you there. The other weird thing is how that world does not exist in almost any form today. Very weird. It makes me wonder if the world that is all consuming for me now will someday in several years not exist to me. I think maybe that is one of my fears? I don't like jumping from existance to existance. I don't like thinking of my relationships as expendable or replaceable. People ask me a ot why I don't live it up and go traveling and see the world and get crazy with my young(ish) single self. Its not that I don't desire new experiences. Its just that the experience are only 2 dimensional if shared alone. Its the relationships that make the experience a whole one. For me, that is. Anyhow, I wonder what songs will be the time travelling device that transports me back to this exact moment? Confession time: Lately I've been scared of the dark. I know.....lame. What do you think that is? I'm frightened by the dark, yet I love sleeping. Sometimes I don't feel like a real adult because in the last almost 2 years I still can't develop a regular sleeping habit, and be a "morning person". But that is silly because through the lense of reality I am clearly a "real" adult simply by my categorical existance: almost 30 year old female living alone and self sustaining. SO the fact that I don't feel like a real adult is irrational. Or just a feeling. Or just a judgement I'm placing on myself insisting that "real" adults have a certain kind of life. Whatever THAT might be. Or maybe its just feeling. Oh, did you know that today is Mardi Gras? I didn't earn any beads this year. Ok, like I've ever really earned them in the truest form....anyway, the importance is that tomorrow is Ash Wednesday; the kick off to the season of Lent that is the precursor to Easter. I usually get kind of into Lent, but this year I don't have anything that I feel like I really need to "fast" or get rid of to purify myself. Not that I think I've arrived or whatever, but this is the first year in a loooong time that I don't feel completely broken, and that I don't have this overpowering urge to purge (ha, unintentional rhyme) some kind of impurity from my life. I don't need to ditch a habit. Maybe this season can be a time where I focus on new "vices" that can be good. Hmmm.
I really have to go to bed. Now that I think about it, I THINK that maybe I don't like going to bed because, for me it really feels like I'm going somewhere. I know...weird. But dreamland is so realistic and random that I kind of have to gear up for it. What kind of bizarre arrangements will my subconscious conjur up for me tonight? What old memory will I relive? Will I be afraid or will I be at peace? I know, its weird. Sometimes I ask for Jesus to come and make an appearance. I haven't seen him yet (that I know of), but that's not to say he hasn't made an appearance. They say that we have the mind of Christ, so I wonder if that means if Jesus sleeps if I make appearances in his dreams. Since we share a mind an' all. Yes yes....I know how this sounds. I'm leaving the link to the old Myspace page that has those old crappy songs on it in case any of you would like to identify with me. And since there are only 2 of you subscribed to this, that would leave only one of you who hasn't heard it. Haha. ...
I guess I'm leaving now.
for a world in my mind, that we all have,
but we all don't find.
For the pictures of things that I can't describe,
that escape real words, but still I will try
to the pictures
I'm going to sleep. I'm going to die,
and then rise again in tomorrows new light.
I'm going to close my eyes and hope that
maybe I'll see him tonight.
Or at least see a form I can just recognize.