I think

I'd be less homesick had I made more friends here.

Reasons I wish I had stayed home:

Crawling into my parent's bed whenever I needed a hug
Watching whatever I wanted on TV
Being sick and not being criticized by people that don't really know me
Being sick and having my parent's care
Hanging out with my friends at the mall
Being around people I've known longer than 2 months
Walking around the cove at sundown with my dad
Playing with Emily
Having a car had I stayed in the desert for COD
Going to my grandma's house and talking with her
Family parties
My bed
My baby grand piano
Listening to music really loudly when my parents were at work
Riding the Sunbus
Going to places I'm familiar with
Running errands with my mom
Going to my Aunt's house and running up and down her stairs
Making my cousins laugh
Being able to lock my doors
Taking a shower and getting ready in the same room
Riding my bike
Talking to my dad in car rides to nowhere
Going to Dominic's house
Home-made food
Dancing
Sleeping wherever I wanted
Kevin car rides
Conversations between Elisa and her dad
Conversations between Elisa and Viktorria
Conversations between Elisa and her cats
Really tight hugs
Going to dinner with my mom and dad
Going to breakfast with my dad
The way the kitchen looks at around 11 am when the light shines in just right
The way my couch squeaks when anyone sits on it
The sound of birds outside my window every morning
Knowing my dad's home when he honks
Knowing my mom's home when she calls
The way the garage door open sounds because it's old
Opening the fridge and knowing you can have whatever you want in it
Being able to go get the mail
Walking across the street to say hi to Chloe
Taking the bus and going to the library and sitting there for hours
Knowing the librarian by name
Going to Starbucks after the library and reading your book there
Going with my dad to clean carpets
Going with my mom to eat chinese food with the family
The familiar creak of my house door
The fireplace around Christmas time
Being bought clothes that I don't particularly like but wearing them anyway because they're comfortable
Getting a free ride on the sunbus because my dad somehow is related to the driver
My dad getting me food because he knows exactly what I do and do not like
The ice cream man passing by every once in a while
Dillon and Ryan's house
Making music on my piano
Singing and whistling as loudly as I pleased
Speaking in spanish
Being able to look back on things with family/friends
Roadrunners
Listening to music before I go to sleep
Listening to music when I shower
Climbing the backyard tree and getting on the roof
Knowing the neighbors
The River on Saturday mornings
Knowing where the arcade games and photobooths are
Being able to make my parents laugh whenever I acted weird
BEST Productions
The football games I went to just to watch the halftime shows
Going across the street after a game just to go on the swings
Picnics
The loveliness of living in a small town where you could get places without having to go on the freeway
The swapmeet next to grandma's house
Grandma's yippy yappy Chihuahua
Karaoke at my Uncle's house
Going to a place you've known since you were born
Going to Mexicali
Still holding my dad's hand just to cross the road
Not feeling like shit when I miss school
Hanging about the house looking icky and not caring
Inviting people over on ocassion and doing nothing
Not being afraid to ring the doorbell or knock because I forgot my keys again
Being able to change the radio station in the car and listening to music that my parents and I sing along to
Not wanting to cry whenever I think of these things

and perhaps being able to see who I absolutely am in love with.

I.

am sleepy...
tired...
drowsy...
and waiting..

Heavy with yesterday, expectant of tomorrow with big puffy eyes and a very calm disposition.
I sit here and wait for a response...any sort of response....at all.

from you.

::breathe::

Okay so let's get started shall we?

I sank into the cushions of today. Some empty promise was stuck in between the velvet of one and the other and in my attempt to find it I was smothered. I sank deeply into the flower and ivy design and lost my way for the time being. It was there that I made the discovery.

I came face to face with the loneliness that I had tucked neatly away in the back pocket of my blue jeans about 2 and a half weeks ago. Apparently, it slipped out and swam its way into the couch, next to pennies, lint, my promise, and now the new member of such society- me.

How dare I forget about something so relevant to my past, so important. How dare I forget it even existed in the first place. There it was, though, in the same condition as when it first escaped me. Eager to return to it's creator, eager to please, eager to feast on whatever emotion had taken its place. So very eager to undermine my current condition and state.

I did not know what to do at this point. Should I escape and make today just another day? Should I stick today amongst days like March 25th or January 16th or July 7th? Days where nothing important happened, days that came and went and became the little dust specks on the window of the whole. Is that where today belongs?

Or is there something more to feeling so empty?

freewriting IV (3 min.)

Freebird won't you fly away. Escape into the clouds, into the fluff of powder white. Think of me as you spread your wings. When you feel the breeze pass through, through your knees, through your knees. When your bones creak as the days go by don't you know? Don't you know you can come home whenever you want to, my young freebird? You can move and swift and clean you'll always carry my love on a string. It's attached to you, my dear. Just think of me and you'll know where you should be. Right?
I'll keep you always within me. Always always always. If you manifest yourself into a piece of sky, tonight I'll look up and know which part is you. The piece with the most stars. The piece with the brightest light. Afterwards if you are ever to become day. I'll feel you against my skin and I wouldn't mind. I'll smile, freebird, you'll be the warmth of everything. The caresses are my favorite parts, you see? Alright let's see. After that if you decide to be the leaves that float about when autumn comes around. If you become the everychanging being of these then don't you see? The red, the orange, the yellow parts of you are what make oh gee, well you're constantly running around making me feel like today is something spectacular.

There's a broken heart

despite it not being mine, it's there. There's a broken heart that exists and it belongs to someone that exists. It hurts every single day. It hurts in more ways than one. They have to go about their days pretending nothing is wrong. But everything continues to be wrong. They do what they shouldn't because nothing else makes it better. Better isn't what it inevitably makes it though.
That's just one of my worries.

There's an attachment that's required, a sort of rope that you hang from that connects you to the world. It's sort of like what it would feel like if there were no gravity and if you were connected to the ground in just that one aspect. That rope is not a rope for me. It's a piece of string and I don't know how else to explain it. My thoughts wander, I see people over and over again, the same people every day. I don't know anyone's name, I don't know anyone's thoughts but my own, I walk I see I hear. All of these purely physiological aspects of walking and seeing and hearing. I'm disconnected.
It's exactly what I knew would happen.
I just didn't know I would go down this fast and this hard.

That's another one of my worries.

Freewriting III (10 min)

I think of a park. I park with trees and grass and nothing particularly interesting or special about it; nothing special about it except what it means to me. I think of laying on the grass up at the sky, the sun filtered through the leaves and that momentary luminescence sparkles in the emptiness for just a split second. For that split second the blinding light brings me back to moments of chasing my best friend through the house, the blinding lights take me back to being in an embrace with my parents, hearing people whose laughs I recognize. I remember what it took to get on the roof, to breathe the air from a different height. To look at the world from a different perspective. I just sat there, watching the sun escape into the mountains. I'd watch the cars swerve and spiral- going nowhere it seems. I spend most of my time thinking, I walk and think and sleep and think and eat and sleep and think. All this thinking must lead somewhere shouldn't it? My biggest mistake was starting this without really having a clue where it was going to go. Isn't that what we do with most things though? Start them without clues and only little hints of faith, that tiny speck of faith that tells us that trusting yourself and the future may not be that bad of a thing after all. I like holding your hand, feeling the skin of it against mine. Who you are, I really don't know but I just thought of holding someone's hand. Maybe it's my mum's hand or my father's or.... I'm really lost now with what I'm doing here. The song I was listening to ended and the next one has yet to begin and I'm stuck in between the time, the seconds it takes for the music to start playing. It actually is playing but only very softly. Sort of in whispers. Don't you love whispers? The tickle of the wind against your ears, the words, the phrases, the secrecy of it all. The little chuckle or giggle let out afterwards. It's all a unifying process. The song playing is glass vase cello case and there's a lot of memory that attached itself to it. The way dust attaches itself to old furniture in the crevices of your household. I'm not exactly sure why my head's been hurting so much lately, or why I place my head in my hands and sigh so much, or why I have to clear my mind before really doing anything of importance. Right now for example, I want time to run out so that I can start breathing again, the very air that fills my lungs seems limited and I always seem to blame being tired but you can't always be tired, right? The next song came on, one that made me cry the first time I heard it, the first time she sang it. I remember that, but if I knew then what I know now, how much of an effect her presence in my life would have on me. Everything's ever moving, ever changing, so far it's been for the better and I've never been so aware of it all.

Freewriting II (10 min)

Today began the same way most days begin. With the residue of having dreamt something strange, of remembering slight imaged of waking up in the middle of the night sort of drenched in all these tangled thoughts. Thoughts that never disappear and haunt me even as I sleep. There's nothing I find myself more attached to than my thoughts. I wish they could place themselves very neatly on old parchment and fold itself over to lock itself tightly in my brain. To be found 3 years later one night as I seek something else. I'm not sure about a lot of things in my life, only of what I see and feel and I'm only sure of these envisionments if that makes sense and seeing as I cannot or should not change certain aspects of myself I am a statue. And then she graced her presence to the kind. I don't know why I just said that. Anyway, despite myself I managed to go to church today. The part of church that always gets me to cry is when people close their eyes and ask everyone else to pray for specific or general people and/or group of people. I don't know why it does. But something about having so much compassion for other people. Yes, of course we'll pray for them. For those who really need it. It's not about religion or about spirituality at this point, it's having the mentality to take others into consideration when going about your everyday life. Something that I find myself doing as I write this is closing my eyes and really taking in the fact that I'm writing all these words without limitations without the need to be coherent or to make sense to anyone. I now find myself in front of a window. Being embraced by the sensation of warmth. Warmth, I love the feeling of being snug and warm, under very soft blankets and pillows. With perhaps even my skin under someone else's skin and it's that sort of warm that makes me doze off with sleep. Something about feeling safe and being comforted. I remember at an old house of mine I had a canopy over my very pink bed and my very pink room. I remember crossing from the border of Mexico and wanting very badly one of those balloons with string attached at the end that bounces back. I remember that at this home I used to sleep with my parents. My head would rest on my dad's stomache and my legs would be over my mum's. I remember both of them talking to me about their life, I remember being too young to understand the importance of moments like these. I had a glowstick wrapped around my neck. The glow receded as the night continued and did not glow the next day. I am not really sure why this memory came to me just now. I'm also not sure who would take the time to read this but I do it for my own sanity's sake. So that maybe through attempting to recover the past, I could attempt to discover my future.

Freewriting (10 min)

Today was less than ideal but it's fine, I'll deal with it. All I can think of is the color blue and fog overwhelmind the trees, swallowing the brush and all the leaves whole. I think of the grass, dewy and webbed as I walk to class in the mornings. I think about the overcrowded bus and having to stand, sort of showing everyone how clumsy and unbalanced my feet seem to be. But today I stood there for the longest time and stared at the floor of the bus. Moved only by the mechanical strain of thoughts that infiltrated my brain at that specific time. Thank you thank you thank you just kept filling my brain on loop. A broken record. Noise and all. Then in restrospect I remember that it was a moment of joy. But at the time it didn't feel much like joy. I got out of the bus and it was cold. Oh wow what a boring sentence was that, right? When I go to school, go about my business, do what I'm supposed to. I feel sort of alone, I wish there were someone I could actively talk to when I walk places, someone I can look at and smile with about how class was for the day. I get over it, though. This is the life I've chosen and I chose it for a reason. I couldn't stand being where I was before, everyday being so still. I couldn't stand staring at the walls of my room. So I moved away and now stare at the walls of the kitchen. I stare so much at the things in the kitchen because they don't move or go anywhere. I do it so that I can stop my head from spinning off of its axel. < I hoped I spelled that correctly.
Have you ever seen a movie where the lady sits at the table, looking out the window filled with daylight and sorrow? That's what it felt like today. It's been quiet. But then again I really enjoy the simple life, don't I? Having someplace to be but without rush. Having things to do but at my pace and all the while still having enough time to watch singular blades of grass sway in the wind. All the while still laying on the grass looking up at the purple clovers being held together by lanky branches. I still have time to do that. Why is that? Because my life is not one that cares too much or too little. I have enough sympathy to be able to cry in front of a group of people, in front of just one person, in front of no one. I have enough compassion to be able to love a group of people, love just one person, love myself. After listening to music for the past four and a half something hours, my brain feels slightly numb and so does the rest of my body, just to follow it. My body usually is a conformist that way. Right now I breathe heavily just to watch my stomach move upwards and then downwards in rhythm to my inhales and exhales. I don't know why that entertains me so much at the time but I guess I just need reassurance. The same way I need things to be repeated.

my heart

sinks slowly
slowly
slowly picking up dirt as it touches darkness
darkness
darkness at the bottom of the ocean
ocean
ocean.