elevating nature

It's been a while.

Christmas and new year's have come and gone, now I lay at the cusp of another semester at MRU. I foresee it going better than the last, but by no means amazing. My constant struggles with socializing and lack of interest in my colleagues will forever challenge my existence, but I always get by somehow.
Besides lackluster schooling other aspects of my life are peachy.

This past weekend the band 36? hosted a collaborative art explosion to design the album art from multimedia contributions of anyone interested. AKA Me and my friends spent three days sitting on newspaper, painting, smoking joints, drawing, smoking weed, collage-ing, crocheting, and of course smoking marijuana. It was an intense experience, very enjoyable, and it let me use art as a form of expression which has been lacking in my life as of late.

At the end of the three days of 'el3vatin6nature' sessions, four 6' x 6' wooden frames were filled with a crazy array of multimedia art; acrylic, water color, collage, yarn, even a guitar had been glued up. And on Sunday the band filmed a music video with the frames as a background. Me and my friends who weren't in the band stood behind one of the 6' x 6's which had an empty picture frame, and did silly things during the performance. It was wonderful!
I really need to surround myself with art consistently throughout my life to retain my sanity.

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neighborhood nights

I feel like somewhere along my life there was a shift. Suddenly nothing was for fun any more, it was all necessary. Suddenly I'm bothering with what others think, afraid to link any connotations I deem negative to my being. Why do I care what people I've never met, who'll forget they ever saw me, think of me; this obscure stranger in their peripherals. It's a warped sense of mind and place, seeing the space around me in my mind's made up ways. So I stray away from everyone, isolating myself unwittingly, turning them against me. Self fulfilling prophecies, I succeed in creating this reality. I need to break free from my mind's mentalities, with which negativity has propelled me. So I've started a new sport. I call it neighborhood night dancing. Donning headphones and heading out alone to the empty streets as the city sleeps, and moving to the beat. Letting it compel me towards a freedom long gone missing. Letting go is an art. Complete release is a tough ...

zip.

I dread human contact. I absolutely hate it. I hate having to think of something to say, hate having to feign interest and sympathy. It's a stressful situation and I don't even know why. I guess it's the culmination of all my antisocial tendencies over the years. Once you get into a habit it gets harder and harder to change as time goes by. I've always been the shy one, the quiet one. The exception is my friends. I'm talkative and at ease with the people I like. I love my friends and I love having friends, but I dread making them. It's like it's too much effort to be worth it. All the awkward getting to know eachothers and stuff, I'd rather just avoid it completely. But it's getting me into trouble. People think I'm arrogant, too good to talk to them. Or that I hate them. Such is the case with my mother. She's been living at her parent's house, and so I rarely see her. That suited me fine, because less interactions the better. So whenever...

Home

I looked back at blog entries, and even though the subject matter was less than pleasant to be reminded of, it was still good, I'm glad I have written reminders so I have points of reference to gauge my growth. And I've come far. I often feel like I've had three stages in my life. The first was with Brent, and though I was a newborn in love's eyes, I soon grew to an extremely old age. My heart was always cracked and my spirit became dulled. I became clogged with darkness, became tired and dragged myself through the days. But I never stopped. I stubbornly sacrificed myself each day for someone whom I thought it was going to help. I was wrong. The first day of my second stage was the day I stopped caring about him and finally focused on myself. I was free, and I was drunk with it. Too drunk. I dove into something that made me happy, too quick. I soon realized there were other ways to get hurt. this stage wasn't that defining, though I began to learn to take things as ...

rude awakenings

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