happy babies make me smile.

what if

Are you sure what side of the glass you are on?

See the safety of the life you have built
Everything where it belongs

Feel the hollowness inside of your heart
And it's all...
Right where it belongs

What if everything around you
Isn't quite as it seems?

What if all the world you think you know
Is an elaborate dream?

And if you look at your reflection
Is it all you want it to be?

sigh.

the gossip

such a metaphor for my life. believing SO strongly and childishly for idealistic yet unrealistic things, I plunge in at full speed, so convinced that just trying my best = enough to warrant a positive outcome, only to guess what.. fail, and fall on my ass! doh.

I like a sock monkey on top of a widdle charlie brown tree at my house better than a star on any giant one anyway...

disturbia

disturbia:

A disease of the mind, it can control you. It's too close for comfort.
May resemble the darkness in light.

What's wrong with me?
Why do I feel like this?
I'm going crazy now

No more gas, in the red, can't even get it started
Nothing heard, nothing said, can't even speak about it
On my life, on my head, don't wanna think about it
Feels like I'm going insane, yeah

It's a thief in the night to come and grab you
It can creep up inside you and consume you
A disease of the mind, it can control you
It's too close for comfort

I hate crying. freaking sucks. why do tears have to sting dammit? so annoying. couldn't we just have emotional distress without a side order of physical discomfort? no. my face must regularly sting on top of everything else. God, did you put a sting ingredient in tears on purpose? seems kinda harsh. couldn't it have been like a soothing ingredient, that say, moisturizes your skin or...i dunno, sends happy endorphins or at least if its gotta sting, couldn't it be because it has a wrinkle reducing benefit or something cool. meh.

In an ideal world

Hah! Obviously yes.

So far my time in Texas has been a season of reflecting on who I've been and what I've done with my twenties. Re-evaluating who I want to be and how I want to live. I'm a different person then when I left Vermont. By far.

I'm really struggling to embrace who I am and accept who I'm not. Trying to not let regret find its way into my mind, for things I wish I had done differently. But, my past is my past, it is what it is. Can't change it, or trade it for someone else's, and its brought me to this present I find myself in so just trying to learn something from it.

I used to have more hope, that one day, I would step over that magic horizon line of good things that existed off in the distance somewhere for me. They were always out of reach, but I believed they were there, for some other day.

I really believed that someday, my patterns of disappointments and pain and brokenness might be replaced with, oh I don't know, love, healing, or a sense of belonging, that something would happen that would make me say, its OK that I've been through all I have, because I'm happy NOW.

But, hope deferred makes the heart sick. That's a dangerous word to me now, hope. It makes me cringe and makes my heart hurt when I hear it. I've resigned to no expectations for life. Reality is, the only thing that's guaranteed to us all in life, is pain. Death, taxes, and pain. So I will do my best to wade through the rest of my time here, endure my share of life's disappointments and try my best not to be a catalyst for the pain in others lives.

Looking the past in the eye, really hurts. Looking for the courage to move forward through unanswered prayers, pain, disillusionment, and failure in a life that feels tragic, misunderstood, hopeless... that's really hard, but the word courage is less offensive to my senses right now than hope. Just have to have enough courage to take on one day at a time. Get up, go, come home, fall apart at the seams. Do it again.

The old Sharon might look at the new one with disapproval or even disgust at my pessimistic and cynical attitude, and I know a lot of people who would judge me. I gave up. Lame. I just reached this threshold I didn't foresee, I'm not as strong as I once may have thought. Apparently you just can't go forever on empty. Somewhere along the line, the car slows, and stops.

I know, at least, after reflection on the last several years, a lot more about who I don't want to be. Now if only I could figure out what's left in me that's good... since its kinda hard to see through the rage, bitterness, and tears.