untitled: a series of irrational fears

when did everything change? when did i realize i want all of those things i swore off from the start? love, marriage, children. all of those things i was so certain were the last things on my mind. well, i can probably narrow it down to last august, seeing my nana almost die in a hospital surrounded by her family. or maybe it was turning 25. or maybe it was seeing one of my best friends decide to finally get married. am i just one of those girls who reach a certain age and realize my biological clock is catching up to me?

i think if i’m completely honest with myself, i’ve always wanted those things. somewhere in the back of my mind i knew i wanted to be in a loving relationship with someone who took the plunge with me and decided to live a life of dedication and devotion to one another. to raise a family. i think i’d make a good wife. i think i’d make a good mom. or at least i’d try like hell. 

but i’m not stupid or naive about life. i know i would never do either of those things with someone who doesn’t believe in them as much, if not more than, i do. i know i want to have kids, but i also know kids need stability and that that’s not something i have to offer at this point in my life. i get that. but the more i think about life in general, the more unsure i get. am i going towards those goals? am i on the track i want to be on? is that even something i can be heading towards? love happens. life happen. sorrow happens. those are all things out of our control.

i’ve been with my boyfriend for almost three years. that’s a long time. i know him like i’ve never known anyone else. i feel like i know him more than i know myself, at times. yet the thought of a “forever” with him freaks me the fuck out. he’s the first guy i’ve ever been serious about. he’s the first guy i’ve ever let see me at my best and at my worst. he’s the first guy to know virtually everything about me. and he’s stuck around. but i’m still unsure about us. this has less to do with him than it has to do with how i’m naturally wired to be. i’m a skeptic to the very end. but i’m also human and the thought of being with only him for the rest of my life scares me. what if he’s the last person i ever have a first kiss with? what if he’s the first, only, and last person i ever have sex with? what if i never have those incredibly scary but thrilling intimate first impressions with anyone else? those late nights where you stay up until 3 in the morning talking on the phone unwilling to hang up because you can’t get enough of them. that feeling of an electric shock pulsating through your body when your knees accidentally brush up against each others for the first time. that moment when you say goodbye to them and both of you want to go in for a hug but are terrified to make a move. am i ok with those things coming to an end? am i ok with them never happening to me again? i’m not sure. and i don’t know if that uncertainty is certainty enough or if it’s normal to feel this way. 

i’ve always gone for a calm and collected kind of guy. a guy that exudes confidence and coolness. guys who were overly into me never made me say, “now that guy makes me weak in the knees.” at the time, it was a conscious choice. the quiet guys were the ones i longed for. the ones who were impossible to read. this led to many years of heartache and uncertainty about myself. self-doubt and super-self-conscious habits overcame me. because the quiet guys don’t give you reassurance. something i soon realized i NEED to survive in a relationship. it turns out i do like being swooned over. i do like being fussed over. i do like being outwardly adored. and this has been one of the major hurdles in my current relationship. we aren’t a lovey-dovey couple (unless i’m drunk, in which case i can’t keep my hands off anything). we don’t outwardly express our love for one another. we’re different when it comes to expressing our love to even each other. and that’s been really hard for me. sometimes i need to feel wanted. i need someone to literally look me in my eyes and tell me they want me. i need for someone to look me straight in my eyes and tell me they love me. those are things i know about me now. and i didn’t necessarily know that about myself when i first met my boyfriend. he expects me to be able to know these unspoken assurances through his actions. he’s not the type to harp on anything, not even if it’s how pretty i look on any particular day. he just doesn’t verbalize many things in general, but that was one of the things i initially liked about him. ‘he’s quiet’ or ‘mysterious,’ were my thoughts. and that made him a challenge in my eyes. i never expected to fall in love with him. i never expected to need him the way that i do. i never expected to want him the way that i do. but loving him and needing him and wanting him doesn’t make our relationship easy, especially when you’re always unsure of where you stand because the other person just doesn’t show you in the tangible way you crave. 

ok, another thing. i don’t expect relationships to be easy. maybe i did going into it, but that was before. and it was easy. as all relationships start out, until you get serious and realize you’re not just thinking about yourself anymore but also this other person. you want them to be happy, but you also want to be happy. but sometimes certain things agitate one person’s happiness and not the other’s. and as the internet constantly reminds me, THE STRUGGLE IS REAL. and then you realize this slew of other things that don’t align with these relationship ideals you previously set forth. you realize that maybe you aren’t on the same page about everything and maybe you don’t want all of the same things as the other person. but you do know you still love the other person and don’t want to give up just yet. and that turns things into a huge mess of confusion. not all the time, but it’s always there. again, is this normal? like i said, this is the longest relationship i’ve ever been in. also, i’m a skeptic. still. 

amongst all of the difficulties i continue asking myself, ‘is this worth it?’ and i’ve yet to come up with anything but a yes to that question. we’re never going to want all of the same things all of the time, but ultimately, i’m okay with that. right now, today, i’m okay with how things are. there is no one i trust so completely the way i trust him. i’ve never for a second doubted his devotion and loyalty to me. he gets along with all of my friends. he’s easy going, kind, and respectful. i don’t know a single person that has anything bad to say about him. my family loves him (moreso than they love me, it could be argued). he’s a perfect fit into my incredibly dysfunctional and complicated family. he’s understanding and nonjudgmental. and above all, he respects me and is kind. he’s never said anything to intentionally hurt me (or anyone else). he’s always giving people the benefit of the doubt (which i admit is incredibly annoying to me, who tends to do the opposite). 

i don’t believe in “soulmates” or “the ones” because i’m not living in a romance novel, but i do believe in timing. and fortunately, we have that going for us. and i’m not a believer in “love is enough” because honestly sometimes it’s not. but when i look at us and what we’ve been through, i think of how lucky i am. i mean, i’m a pain in the ass and require a lot. and he’s always trying. and i can’t fault him for coming short sometimes, because he’s never not given me his all. sometimes (most times) i don’t think i’m worthy of someone like him, but that doesn’t mean i’m not going to try my hardest to earn that. i want to be better. he makes me want to be better. and not just to him, but to all people.

basically, life is hard. i know that. and my mom was right (as much as it pains me to admit), life is definitely not fair. but i’m going to keep on fighting and trying because that’s what it’s about, right? perseverance. struggle. sadness. happiness. if i give up or run away when times are hard, what kind of precedent am i setting for myself? if you love someone, you fight. you push against the current, especially if the reward is worth it. earning someone is better than winning a lottery. knowing i did the hard work it took to make things work is love. it’s sweat and tears, and never what you expect. but sometimes, that’s what makes it worthwhile. or at least that’s what i tell myself on days like this (skeptic). i’m just trying to believe in something that doesn’t come natural to me, and at times it seem impossible. maybe we’ll work out and maybe we wont, but at least i tried and put myself out there and gave love a real shot. and i’m learning from my mistakes. maybe someday, i’ll get all of those things i crave and desire. maybe someday i’ll be someone’s wife. maybe i’ll be a mother. maybe i’ll be a grandma. but for now, this is enough. for now, i’m earning my keep. for now, i have him.

What Being Little Feels Like

People think being alone makes you lonely, but I don’t think that’s true. Being surrounded by the wrong people is the loneliest thing in the world. 

-Kim Culbertson

Tomorrow, I'm going to listen to Van Morrison's "Sweet Thing" on repeat and focus on not being too hard on myself. Tomorrow, I will focus all my energy on being ok. But tonight, we wallow.  Tonight, we feel lonely and sad.

Pure Magic

I never felt poor growing up. I never felt that constant, overwhelming feeling of drowning in my predetermined existence. Coming from a single-parent family, that would seem like a feat. But my mother - like all mothers made up of pure magic - made sure my brother, sister, and I never went without our basic needs. Not just that, our (nearly) every want. She never made us feel like there was something we couldn't have. Like things were out of our grasp because money had been tight. Because money would forever be tight, now that our father was out of the picture. She was effortless. A portrait of poise and strength. But, truth be told, our father always seemed like he was more of a problem than a solution to financial woes. Any woes, truthfully. To this day, he's stumbled and fallen along the way to "stability". He's been unable to keep steady employment or a steady household. But none of that registered while I was little. My mother protected us from him. Maybe because she knew that he didn't know how. He would never really know how to.

She raised us to be strong, decent human beings. To pass out kindness like it was our only form of currency. To be forgiving and understanding in all things. To strive to be better than your circumstances. To never let things like money or fear or worry or situation keep us from doing things that mattered the most to us. She taught us to love and never hate. To always see the positives in our life. She's the one who taught me to put others before myself (something I really struggled with in my teenage years, and probably a little even now). And to help out others when they need help, even (especially) when they're too scared to ask.

 I look at her in awe. I look at her and think, 'how can such a small creature like her love so big? How can love like that cost nothing to her?' I feel like I'm nothing like her most of the time. She's a saint and I'm wrong in so many ways. But that never mattered to her. I know it never will matter to he. My pride and stubbornness cloud my vision. But I never stop trying to be like her. Being a grown up is hard, and I never realized that growing up. Maybe because she always made is look so easy. She made it seem like it was nothing. She never showed traces of loneliness or sadness or weariness even though I know she felt all of those things and more. Because everyone does. Because you can't not feel like the world is going to crush you at times, when you're raising three kids alone. And sometimes, I forget that she feels things. Supermom feels feelings, guys!

 Part of being older is seeing things that you never noticed before. And now I can see. I can see it in the way she sighs. I can see it in the distant look she gets when things are quiet. In how she shakes and constantly checks her phone when she hears my brother is having a rough go of things. I can see it in the way she cracks her neck when she's really, really stressed about something. In how you can tell, you can just tell, she's silently praying, fiercely hoping, that none of us will ever have to go through what she did. That's when I know. That's when I know being Supermom isn't easy. It's hard and there's no one there to pat you on the back and encourage you when things seem impossible. Nothing in her world was effortless or simple. But she always tried. And she never once failed us. She never failed me. She gathered her composure and put on a happy face for us. She constantly battled the will to give up and fall apart, like everyone expected her to do and she did it for us. To protect us from a life she was forced into living. Because my father let her down. Because my father let us all down. And now, countless years later, she doesn't hold anything against him (even though no one would exactly blame her if she did). Because my mom, my mom that's made up of pure magic, is a saint. She's everything I want to be when I grow up.

Things to come...

Thinking about the future is scary. I will elaborate on this soon.

Overthrow it. Paralyze it. Destroy it.

Things have been good. I am good. Apart from the fuzziness and chaos that is life, I am good in it all.

I’ve been having a lot of nightmares, lately. Legitimate ones. Tragic events that are very likely to happen, or the possibility of them happening is there. I don’t know what to do with them. I hate them because they scare me. I wake up at 2… 3… 4… 5… with all of these terrible things happening all at once and I sit in my bed trying to regroup and decipher what is real and what isn’t. It’s exhausting, quite honestly. Sleep is exhausting. I hate dreaming for this exact reason. It takes me out of reality and places me between vivid scenarios that aren’t far-fetched enough to doubt. They’re life-like to the point of turning into actual memories in my mind. Memories that never actually happened to me, but have wedged their way in between car rides with my Tata and songs from my childhood. They’re in between all of the ruckus and quiet moments. Transforming themselves into something too real to ignore. I don’t want that to happen with these nightmares. I don’t want to be afraid of people because of things they’ve done to me in my dreams. My grasp on reality is being smothered to death by the fury of my imagination.

Amidst all of this, I see a break on my horizon. I see it because it is something I’ve already decided to do. I like to retain some anonymity in all this. I remain as vague as humanly possible for me because too much information is not my thing. Alluding to events is my thing. I scarcely speak of any of these things with people because an open forum is easier to share with. There is no judgment here. No questions. It just is. I have always liked that because it’s the only way to communicate what is going on inside my head. My thoughts are so fleeting and numbered that I can never get them out in a way that’ll make sense to others. I feel as though someone needs to go in there and rinse me down. Take it all away. Lobotomize me. Break.

Loneliness Postponed

It’s hard for me to separate what I want and the reality of the world.

It can’t be that way. It’s simply a delusion. A delusion I’ve chosen to indulge in for the past few months. I don’t know why I become so involved in the things I cannot ever have. The people who cannot love me back. I see that now. Though, I fear it’s a little too late. I thought I could imagine how much this would hurt. I thought I understood it all. But I was wrong and naïve to its possible extent. And all I feel is pain. Pain from what could have been, had circumstances been different. Had distance not been an issue. It’s a difficult pang of longing because it was never something I had in the first place. Instead, I’m left with the “what if?” of it all. The question I am doomed to contemplate forever. Perhaps time with lessen its weigh on my heart. Maybe I’ll be able to move on and look elsewhere for my needs. But part of me doesn’t want to. Part of me is afraid to let go. Let go of what, though? I never had him. Not really. I had the idea of him. The possibility of it all. The desire to be nearer to him than any other.

I got carried away. Despite incessantly reminding myself not to. I knew it’d turn out this way. In the back of my mind, I knew it all along. I just wasn’t prepared for it all. I never am.

Since my earliest childhood a barb of sorrow has lodged in my heart. As long as it stays I am ironic -- if it is pulled out I shall die.

Chocolate Dreams

I hardly know where I stand; how I’m perceived; what I believe in; who I am becoming. But the journey to those answers feels astonishing.

As adults, we’re expected to know things. We’re expected to have a steady job, healthy relationships, and ambitious hopes for the future. We’re supposed to exude confidence and maturity in the things we do, yet express modesty and easefulness in doing them. That’s the status-quo. That’s what we see in our parents and our parent’s parents. To live up to a high standard of existence. Yet, I struggle with all those things, and more. Though the government may legally consider me an “adult,” I lack many qualities adults are expected to have. I feel young. I feel unsure. I feel unprepared.

I received a letter from my dear cousin, recently, that set me at ease. In the letter he said:
I am in my mid-adult years and barely realizing that I do not know exactly what I look like. All these years have I taken for granted the image I portray through the façade of a smoke-screen and distorted mirror. My vision has been limited to only see its reflection through the bias of deception, manipulation, and fear. But I can now begin to see untainted. And as I peer at myself, I am drawn especially to the eyes. Careful examination surfaces fear yet bravery; failure yet victory; confusion yet knowing; regret yet contentment; anxiety yet peace. This duality has encouraged and fueled a battle that has become my ultimate struggle.

See, the things I feel are not singularly mine. My fears are everyone’s fears. My battle is everyone’s battle. My hopes are everyone’s hopes. We desire because we’re human, and we’re human because we desire.

Something bigger than us. A life of happiness and joy. Loving, healthy relationships. Our dream job. A simple home. These are our destinations. These are our wants. If we’re not chasing after them ourselves, no one will. Perhaps that's incredibly naive of me to think, let alone say, but I think it's better than the alternative. When we stop desiring things, we stop existing. When we stop searching, we no longer gain anything.

Mistrust, Rejection, Insult

Paraphrased. But still something I need to remind myself of when I'm in a rut.

I am a human being, and I have a human being's wants: I must not linger where there is nothing to supply them.

The "Love" Thing

I don't know why I continually do this to myself.

I was reading through old blogs and journals and I seriously want to kill myself now. LOVE, EW! I used to be so romantic and gross stuff like that. I am so glad I've moved on from that phase. But I am thoroughly impressed with the pretty things I wrote for guys. If it wasn't me, I probably would've loved that shit. The sad truth is, I love love. I love it so much. But when it's me, I'd rather not have any part in it.

Re-appropriate

"This world is a hand-me-down. It was given to us by our parents -- women and men much like ourselves. Human beings in love, human beings rejected, human beings hungry, restless, apathetic and hopeful: ever-changing, ever-adapting. Yes, the human soul is a bundle of conflicting desires. You want peace but you love excitement. You hate math but you want to graduate. You love your parents but they drive you crazy. Even our hopes are at odds with each other. The rent? The relationship? The career? The vacation? Our dreams rarely line up. It's messy stuff, but these are the raw materials that life has given you. You had no choice as to where your journey begins, but the choice is available to you now. You could argue that you didn't choose to be born, that there are factors of your existence over which you have little or no control. It's true, these are the contingencies we were born into. Your heart, your bones, your soul, your sexuality -- these were given to you. Given to you as a painter is given a canvas and a brush. Given to you as a sculptor is given a block of marble. St Francis of Assisi said that "He who works with his hands and his head and his heart is an artist." Your artistry? Your craft? You are making a living.

Which is to say that you are the art. Your words, your haircut, your clothes, your actions -- these display your unique blend of past and present, desire and lack thereof, insecurity and purpose. You are the painting, and everyday you're painting yourself and the world around you."
-Jon Foreman
"Making A Living" via Huffington Post

Joni Mitchell

Singing the songs of my heart. Forever and always.

Bon Iver, Bon Iver

I've listened to the newest Bon Iver album going on 10+ times. Heavily mulling over the music and lyrics in an attempt to come to a decisive conclusion on it. It's hard for me to come to that conclusion at all though, because I feel like decisions like these are best made when I'm able to discuss the album with someone else who's also spent a good amount of time with it as well. I do, however, enjoy what is provided in the 10 tracks. Though I feel this album is pretty drastically different from Bon Iver's previous stuff, it's still true to their distinctive sound and feel. I, honestly, did not find a standout track on this album like I was able to find on their previous releases ("Re:Stacks", "Blood Bank". Hard to beat those tracks), which was fairly unfortunate. But, I will say, "Michicant" has resonated somewhere within me. And honestly, I have been going back and forth between "Holocene" and "Wash." and cannot decide which one I like better. Ever changing because I find them both to be so beautiful, in different ways. Lyric-wise, if you don't have the lyrics right in front of you, it's damn near impossible to understand a word that is being sung. But that is something we can all appreciate about Justin Vernon. His music transcends words, in many ways, I think.

Below, I will provide you with a list of the songs in the order in which they rank in my own (highly subjective) opinion.

1. Michicant - I'm a sucker for nostalgia, and this song is so nostalgic, I want to cry. Memories, O sweet memories! The chimes take it home though, chiming their way into a very cold heart.
2. Holocene - I feel as though this is a song that reminds me why I started loving Bon Iver in the first place. With a chorus line that nears perfection, "...and at once I knew I was not magnificent". Singing for all lost souls out there only to bring it back with a sweetly sung "I could see for miles, miles, miles".
3. Wash. - Piano driven ballads are kind of a soft spot of mine. Ones that are reminiscent of Christmas/Wintertime are even more near and dear to me. And that's what this is for me. A return to that old cabin in Wisconsin, Justin. Favorite lyric: "I’m telling darkness from lines on you"
4. Perth - Distorted guitar intro. Marching drum beats. Harmonies echoing in the background. Bright feelings. Most reminiscent of For Emma, Forever Ago.
5. Towers - Probably one of the most upbeat songs I've ever heard from Bon Iver, yet it manages to retain a tinge of sadness. Obviously right up my alley.
6. Calgary - Let it be known, I was undecided on this particular song (being that is was the first thing I heard off of this album). As I've listened more and more to it, I do believe it is very deceiving. After hearing the entire album though, this song makes more sense to me. And I appreciate it. Hell, I enjoy it. A lot.
7. Hinnom, TX - So much 80's pop synths. So much so, that I thought I'd hate it. But the way Vernon sings in that baritone voice (I did that right, yeah? It's a baritone, right?) of his just KILLS me! In the best way possible, I assure you.
8. Beth/Rest - I will not lie, I had the hardest time coming to terms with this song. It's so early 80s, contemporary christian pop to me, I sometimes did not know how to take it. The keys remind me so much of what you'd hear in a church worship team (believe me, I've heard these same keys growing up going to church every Sunday). But the high falsettos, the sax and the smoothness of that guitar manages to sound like, straight up, 80s sex. I think that is why this song confuses me so much, actually. Sex and church are a weird combination. Destroyer, of course, has this smooth 80's thing down though, Regardless of who did what better, I still think this song is ridiculously weird, in a strangely amazing way.
9. Minnesota, WI - The acoustic guitar solo, with the mixture of some banjo. Love that. And the "Never gonna break"'s are fantastic and wonderful. Definitely a great jam, once the second half sets in.
10. Lisbon, OH - This is only last because it's an instrumental track. And, though I have nothing against purely instrumental tracks (some of them can actually be my favorite things on the album) this one is somewhat of a throw-away for me. Which pains me to say.

Cracks in the Ceiling

I am hesitant to type up my feelings. I'm unsure of what they are, at the moment. I'm undergoing a constant stir of emotions. These sentences aren't flowing together, which I can see, but I don't know how else to word it. In fact, the wording closely mirrors my own lack of rhythm and easeful sense of mind.

Sometimes I can see happiness and I crave it. Or at least a sense of contentment. My heart cries for such a feeling of belonging, whether that be a figurative or literal interpretation of the notion. And the truth is, I can put on a decent facade of being blissful in moments. Others scarcely see the anguish in my heart. And it's in those moments that I feel the most misery. Fooling others is not what I want, but I also do not wish to raise concern and be thought of differently. Now, I'm not saying people think I'm a naturally "cheerful" person, but they also do not know the melancholic pangs of my heart. It is not something I want others to see because it is not something I enjoy talking about. Instead, I am thought of as unemotional and detached from human connections. Which is true, in a way, but there is so much more to that.

I think feelings are wasted on people. At least the people I've come in contact with. I think I live in a generation of meanness and conceit, two characteristic traits I've often fell subject to. I've always found the saying "you always hurt the ones you love the most" to ring true in all areas of my life. Normally, in these situations, I chalk it up to an oversensitive flaw in others, in an attempt to make myself feel like less of the culprit and more of the victim. However, I later see how my actions or words were at fault but all too late and to the detriment of a relationship. Being that I am stubborn and hesitant to acknowledge my wrongdoings, I continue life without that person I love. I have never had problems making a fool of myself, I scarcely need the help of others in that matter. But I have also found myself on the receiving end of hurtful words and wounding actions, as we all have. I won't delve into them because we've all been there and I will spare you the long ramblings of my wounded vanity.

And here I am, not exactly seeing what point there was at all to this particular post. I can neither draw it to a logical conclusion either. So I'll just end it here, with my self-absorbed, lonely, and selfish musings. Ugh! I hate myself!

A Sweet Absence

Once again, I find myself amidst an overwhelming shadow of sadness. The reasons are always the same. The results are always unresolved. Yet I seek an outlet to convey my gloominess. I want a solution to the entire thing.

I don't like being alone. Not this kind of alone. I sit in my room as the tears swell in my eyes, clouding my vision and mind with a heaviness. If I could take it all back, I'd take it all. Moments are painful. They are painful because they are fleeting.










Everything breaks my heart. Everything.

Lost Loves and Love's Lost

I have been mulling over a conversation I had with a friend a few days ago, lately. We were discussing why, even after years, we still feel things for past loves. Why those wounds, though not prominent, are still present.

I chalked it down to the fluidity of love. That even when one relationship ends, those feelings may not end. I have always felt anger and bitterness towards my exes, even the ones I broke up with first. I feel like each one took a piece of me that I’ll never get back. And though quite some time has passed, I still find myself being angry and hateful. They knew a side of me that not many people know, a sensitive side I scarcely show to anyone. I felt feelings that were true and real then, but seem like a betrayal to myself now. And so I’ve always longed to get those back. Every word, every idea, every feeling. I want them because they were once exclusively mine, but are now shared memories to a love now lost. What once seemed so real and seemed so promising became a dead leaf on the ground being kicked around without any thought. The heart and soul you share with another person is now but a strange apparition in each person’s memory bank. That is why past loves hurt so much, no matter how many years go by. No matter how much you love even a current love, you feel pain and suffering. Because even though it’s over, it’s never over.

Me, Me, Me

I have neglected to write in awhile. In this forum, anyway. So here is goes, my routine check up.

Self, present. Feelings, present. Mental ability to type, present.

Let’s see, the last time I wrote in this, I was sad. Poor, poor me. There is never a time that I’m not sad, in some way or another. Lately, I’ve been happy though. I’m happy with school. I’m happy with work (as happy as I could be with it, anyway). I’m happy with my family. I’m happy with my friendships. Etc. These things are all central to my life, at the moment. I want this feeling to last, to be honest.

Where do I seek solace? I seek it in things that have brought me joy. Those things being:
TV
Coffee dates with friends
Conversations
Ironic irony
Pithy banter via text
Twitter (RT, DM, FF)
Les Miserables
Lists

The point being, I’m in a good place. I feel as though I’m thriving off of the awkward situations I put myself into, and I’m learning how to handle my outward neurosis on matters. YAY ME!!!!!

Decade List

I told myself a million times that I wouldn't make a "decade" list, but as I was going through all of the music I've collected over the past 10 years, and I began organizing them into a series of favorites. Although I'm missing many albums on this list (remind me of them, if you notice what's missing) I've tried to remember what albums specifically had a way with me. And this is all I could come up with. Curse my need to arrange things in groups and lists, but here it is. If you must know why I picked a certain album over another, just ask.


10. Twin Cinema The New Pornographers (2005)
9. O Damien Rice (2002)
8. Veckatimest Grizzly Bear (2009)
7. Fox Confessor Brings The Flood Neko Case (2006)
6. Funeral Arcade Fire (2004)
5. Fleet Foxes Fleet Foxes (2008)
4. Illinois Sufjan Stevens (2005)
3. Takk... Sigur Ros (2005)
2. Kid A Radiohead (2000)
1. For Emma, Forever Ago Bon Iver (2007)

Others:
In Rainbows Radiohead (2007)
Get Behind Me Satan The White Stripes (2005)
Feels Animal Collective (2005)
Future Sex/Love Sounds Justin Timberlake (2006)
Destroyer's Rubies Destroyer (2006)
Seven Swans Sufjan Stevens (2004)
Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga Spoon (2007)
All Hour Cymbals Yeasayer (2007)

Felicity Porter

So, as we approach the winter season, I reflect upon all of my favorite "winter things." And one of those things is the series, Felicity. I loved everything about that series, as it was and continues to chronicle my own life of awkwardness and neurosis. Felicity is the single most character I can relate to. And watching her live through the highs and lows of college, love, and friendships is a great way to spend a Friday, winter evening. Cheers to wonderfully made television!

“The truth is, I can’t be with you like this. I mean, I know I said that I could, but I can’t. I just can’t compromise myself like that. I mean, I’m an emotional person. I feel things and I need to be able to get upset, and talk about how I’m feeling. I mean, that’s just, that’s who I am, and I can’t change it. I don’t want to. And the thing is, you knew that, you knew it, and you still pursued me. Because you want something with me. You just aren’t strong enough to have it. Which in a way makes you a coward. And the saddest part is that, one day you’re going to wake up, and you’re going to realized what you missed and its going to be too late.”

“Is it possible to be just friends with someone I have these sort of immoderate feelings or am I doomed forever to just be in love and ultimately, I think, significantly hurt?”

“It’s amazing how we blame ourselves. You know when John died I was a wreck. Certain that somehow cosmically I’d caused that accident. It’s probably just human nature to try to make sense of things. Random things. I think the scariest part is realizing bad things just happen. No reason. No purpose. They just occur. And we’re left to pick up the pieces. I guess that’s what we’re all doing all the time. Just picking up the pieces the best we can.”

“Honesty is not the most important thing in a relationship. The most important thing is too be kind. Honesty, in some cases, is unkind.”

“The hardest part about moving forward is not looking back.”

“I put too much importance on things. Romance and sex and I guess with the holidays and weather and everything, I don’t know. For some horrible, annoying reason love matters to me. Ben matters to me. Noel matters to me. And I’m sick of it already. I’m sick of caring so much. Feeling torn and wanting that connection. That soul mate. I just want this feeling to go away.”

“Have you ever felt like there is no solace in anything? Like wherever you turn you’re just lost. I mean, I’ve never felt so lost in every conceivable way before.”

"I’ve become a real believer in not defining every single thing. Seems like every time you think you’ve figured out what something is, it just becomes something else."


“I’ve discovered the most disturbing thing. That by not being me, I’m getting what I want.”

"That must be an amazing feeling, being good at something you love."

“You never asked me to wait for you—and I don’t even know if you want me to—heck, I don’t even know if I want to… but something is telling me that when you come back I’m going to be exactly what you want, and you will realize I have been here all this time, and you will wonder why you didn’t want me all along. And somehow that will bring us to our happily ever after.”

“Everyone is different. For some people alcohol is their weakness. For others, its gambling or drugs. For you, it’s love. For you, love is that elusive quality that can make you feel whole or unhinge you entirely.”

“Look, I know we said our friendship was over before, but that fight was sort of the proverbial nail in the . The thing I wonder is what’s going to stick - which words, which memories. It’s strange how that works. I remember 10th grade Biology, I got every answer on the final right except for one: Purkinje fibres. And now that’s the only thing I can remember about Biology. Is that gonna happen to us? I mean, after—after all these years, after all our right answers, is that fight gonna be the only thing I remember?”

“Sometimes it’s the smallest decisions that can pretty much change your life forever.”

"I guess I’m learning, little by little, that we decide what our lives are going to be. Things happens to us, but it is our reaction that matters."

“Love is complicated — full of sacrifice and compromise. But maybe that’s the best part.”

“I think the most important thing to me isn’t an object, I mean, it’s just being here.”

“I guess when your heart gets broken, you sort of start to see the cracks in everything. I’m convinced that tragedy wants to harden us, and that our mission is to never let it.”

“I dreamt once that I lost you. We were on icebergs and I can’t remember if I was floating away from you or you were floating away from me…But I remember waking up beside you. It was the middle of the night and it was raining, like tonight, and I heard your breath calming me. It was like we could speak without words. I wonder how and when we learned this secret language. I only knew that at some point in the silences, I heard you. And now I am left with these words, these useless words, when all I want is to be beside you again. To make you feel safe, to help you sleep, to bring you back to me.”

“And here’s the fact: you can’t get a best friend. Best friends become. They don’t happen in a meeting or a year or 2. It’s a package deal—friendship. Only as valuable as what you put in, come through.”

Clear as a Bell

It was all over before anything even began.

This time was different. I was different. My intentions and feelings were made clear, and things don't always happen that way. If there was ever a time I was most certain about how I felt, it was now. My heart was open and full of adoration for him. My world was his world. My every thought was him. I tried I make him smile. I tried to make him as happy as he could be. But I couldn't be his happiness. I couldn't be his world.

I am not upset or ashamed of my feelings, or even voicing them to him. I needed to say everything I said. I needed to have a clear answer to how he received my feelings. No games, no contrived words to seek a harmonious surface. But I lost. Things weren't in my favor.

Maybe one day he'll see. He'll wake up one morning and see just how much I cared for him. He'll see just how much I loved his flaws, and how all of his imperfections were perfection to me. How my willingness to sacrifice things was done for the better good of a potential "us." But I can't change him. I can't change his mind. And I don't want to. If someone does not desire to receive my affections, I do not desire to put anymore thought towards doing so. If I am not enough for someone, then I can move on.

The truth is, we were wrong for each other. Some things aren't worth fighting for. And he wasn't. He used me and broke my heart in the process. His feelings were always first, and mine were last. His time was not spent thinking of me as I thought of him, yet on frivolous matters. He was selfish and immature and judgmental. No matter what I did or said, nothing was good enough for him.

I have been able to remind myself of all the bad, not just the good. I see now that I deserve more than what he had to offer me. And although he may miss me, I know better than to put myself in a situation where I can be further hurt by him. My thoughts are no longer fixed on him. My world no longer revolves around his every word. There was a time that I would've done anything for him, but not anymore. Once my mind is made up, there is nothing to be done to change it.


My hopes and dreams are not yet lost. I cannot be everyone's, someone. I want to find someone that knows what they want. Someone that does not feel obligated to say or feel a certain way. Someone that is willing to sacrifice, if the need be. Someone that makes me want to change and become a better person, and who feels the same way. Someone that is willing to love all of my flaws, for there are many. Someone that is willing to listen to me and take my feelings into consideration. Someone that is willing to let me into their world, and someone who will come into mine with an open mind. Someone that challenges me. Someone that may not always understand, but seek to understand me and others. Someone that holds the same values to be true. Someone that likes my endless rambling and my silence. And I hope that one day I can find someone who is worthwhile. Not today or even tomorrow. But someday...