It would be a lie to run away

I keep wondering why, this time, I don't care. Is it because there's nothing to care for? Or am I denying so thoroughly all the things I'll miss that I just haven't allowed myself to care? When one day melts into the next it's difficult to understand individual feelings and emotions. Everything just blurs together so eventually you can't tell dream from reality. I feel like my glare could burn a whole right through the screen. I feel like telling myself to lighten up, but it's sometimes too difficult. I end up laughing at myself anyway. Something about being too serious seems a little ridiculous to me. Always so serious. Maybe that's why I'm such a terrible actor...I can't even grasp how to be myself, let alone how to invent a whole new me for others to see. Heh.

I'm going to have to take my journal home with me over break. I frankly don't know how long I'll be isolated, but maybe it'll be good for me. It's funny to think that I'll have to write something that won't be here, exposed for all to see. I think that exposing the blaring fragility of my mind helps me cope. Cope with what, I couldn't even put that into words. Though maybe if I share a few of my current obsessions, it might help you, the reader, to understand; maybe more than I can.

Current favorite songs:
Clair de Lune (Debussy)
Rearranged (Limp Bizkit)
The Cure For Pain (Jon Foreman)
My Blue Heaven (Taking Back Sunday)

Current favorite films:
Fierce People
Seven Pounds
In The Land Of Women

Current books I'm reading:
Ticket To Ride (Dennis Potter)
Eldest (Christopher Paolini)

Other currents:
Mood - Uneasy, pensive
Favorite genre - Indie
Favorite activity - Dreaming, showering
Least favorite things - Lack of music, ice, too much heat

Maybe these things could help you all figure me out a little right now. It's not much to go on, but more than I think I usually give.

Songs to consider:

Lille (Lisa Hannigan)
We've Got Company (Civalias)
OK (Holly Conlan)

Everyone turns tricks for fickle fame

It's nothing new, but lately, I've been having the most bizarre dreams. I normally dream frequently, but most of the time, I just shrug it off and move on, but sometimes, they just shake me. I'd like to call some of them nightmares, but I'm not scared, just... thrilled. Like, the energy/danger that I feel is just more exhilarating than it is frightening. Take last night for instance. I swear this dream is a repeat, but it still weirds me out that I can even filter stuff like this through my unconsciousness. I was at an airport. It wasn't finished and I think I was just walking around it with some other people I didn't know looking at the features and all. It was round, which was cool, because you could just keep walking and end up where you started without having to get lost. Anyway, I'm walking and all of the sudden, these guys burst through the sliding doors coming in from the outside with guns. Everyone tries to dash away, but they just start shooting everyone that moves. I remember trying to duck behind some sort of statue, but one guy saw me and shot me. Right in the torso. He hit a rib and that's when I remembered I had the dream before. It hurt, but I was more shocked that he actually shot me rather than being shocked BECAUSE I was shot. It didn't hurt too much, so I got up and tried to get into this elevator across from the statue with a bunch of other people. Well, that didn't work out so much and the guys with guns made us come back out. We ended up being holed up in a sweets shop (I think) and all sorts of hijinks ensued. I don't really remember the timeline after that but somehow the owners of the airport were either in on the whole invasion or knew the guys doing it or something. And I was in this shop with a bunch of other people and some of them didn't believe that I'd been shot cause I was moving around okay and some of the others weren't. So I looked down and there was all this drying blood on my shirt and a little little hole where the bullet went through. It's weird, but I remember looking down my shirt to make sure I actually had been shot and sure enough, there was blood all over my skin and a hole where the bullet hit. I guess it was some sort of small caliber that oddly stopped when it hit my rib instead of shattering and going through the rest of me. At any rate, I don't really think there was an end to it... or at least I don't remember it.

I had another dream too, but it was infinitely more awkward to remember and recall than the airport one is. All I remember was that I was in my room and there was some kid there that I didn't know. And my skin was burned. Or if it wasn't burned, it was really hot and that was topic of our conversation to an extent. I'll leave out the rest as I really don't know how to describe it at all. Hmm.

Anyway, these two were just last night. Previous nights have included the cast of Mission: Impossible and a paintball gun that looked like a rocket launcher and shot paintballs that could electrocute people. Then there was one involving two actors playing in a movie and I was there watching the movie being made, but no one knew I was there. So it was sort of like watching the finished movie, but instead of watching it on a screen, you're standing invisibly next to the characters as the story is acted out. The best way I can describe it is like when Harry Potter falls into Dumbledore's pensive and witnesses the memories first hand. There were a few others as well, but those seem to be more vivid still in my mind.

I'm wondering if it's my whacked sleeping schedule that's making my dreams more vivid, but at any rate, at least they aren't terrifying or REALLY weird. Just... sort of weird. Tori style, I'd even say. Heh. I sort of look forward to sleeping when I actually can to see what kinds of dreams I'll have that night. It's a fun little game.

Songs to consider:

I Changed My Name (Sugarcult)

I can't live alone in this lie

It's frustrating to know that you're feeling something, but you can't even explain what the feeling is to yourself. It's like, someone asks you to describe how you felt the first time you were conflicted about anything in your life. How do you explain that to someone? How do you even remember the conflict from so long ago? I remember the first time I was unsure of what decision to make. It was a very tough one, and I was maybe five at the time. I recall wanting to make the decision I made, knowing that it was wrong, but today, I can't shake the feeling that if I had said no, maybe I'd be better. I'd be a better person, I'd be more composed, confident. Again, I can't even try to explain the conflict I felt. Maybe it was because of my age or the situation, but I don't know if I could even explain conflict from some similar situation now, if it were to happen again. And that's where my frustration comes in.

I am in this place, it's darker and cut off from everything else, but even when I climb out to see the sun and the warm smiles of friends, I think about the dark, and until I can escape back to it, long for it. It's almost painful to feel that way. And when I get back there, to the dark and the quiet, I feel relieved. I feel calmer and the anxiety melts away. Those feelings make me wonder if I'm changing. Something fundamental inside of me must be shifting so that my precarious social habits and manic internal mood swings are beginning to dominate me, to take over in the most primal way. I know I should worry, but I feel so self-aware that I think, that as long as I can control it, I'll be okay. I'll pull out of this quietude, this massive reclusive streak and long to be with willing company once more. The only fear left is...what if I don't come back?

"I'm better sorry than safe, better never than late
You better make sure I'm gone before you make your mistake."

Songs to consider:

Love Will Come Through (Travis)
Better Sorry Than Safe (Two Hours Traffic)

Lonely Soul

It's a weird place to be: here. Just sitting, staring, thinking. Being so unconcerned with the rest of life that you forget it's even there sometimes. The only things that exist are the characters in your story, the music in your head, the words that make up your thoughts and memories, the emotions that make your heart beat. It's careless to become so consumed by your mind that other people and places become irrelevant. Can there be a reason for it all?

It's amusing to think about your life from an inward perspective. You don't look out to see where you're going or who will be there waiting for you. It's just you, and the heat and the dark and the voices in the songs that keep you here. Here in the life you've stopped thinking about having. Strange really. But, okay. Not happy, not sad. Just...here, content and okay. Soothing. Peaceful.

Songs to consider:

Say (All I Need) (OneRepublic)

The winds are up at the walls again

My contacts are clouding my vision. I'm not sure if it's poor care on my part or just the complete exhaustion my mind had subjected my body to. Last night was the first night of no sleep after the previous ten nights of terrible restless sleep. I'm not sure if I should take the all-nighter as a blessing in disguise or as an ominous sign of things to come...

It iced last night. I don't understand why we can't be like all the other miserable places in the world that get snow or rain...not ice. Ice is my absolute least favorite weather condition (at least of those I have experienced) and every time I have to brave the weather for a trek across campus, I feel like a child just taking her first tentative steps without any of the confidence or enthusiasm someone who had been walking for almost 22 years should possess. It's irritating at best.

Through the haze of insomnia, I have started writing a book. I see promise in it so far because it's the first time I've ever been able to get the story past a few pages. I took about three hours on Monday to write the first nineteen pages. I stopped there, but I keep thinking about a new part to add. I think I will need to have healthier looking eyes before I get back to the project...and more time to devote to it. Classes, despite my inability to attend them even when I'm wide awake, still require some amount of my time and they don't seem to let up as the last couple of days of the semester approach. I really can't complain, but because the severe impairment in my ability to sleep has made me into a zombie, I feel justified to at least grumble through my unhappiness in private (or here for you, the reader, to mull over).

I'll be careful to not allow my mind to bend or break under the pressure and stress of insomnia, but I can't guarantee that my care will do much good in the short term. Something to ponder...while I lie wide awake tonight no doubt. ;)

Songs to consider:

Cold Bread (Johnny Flynn)

Finding beauty in the dissonance

Carefully. Watching a whisper wind it's way to you. Hopefully. Answering the touch of the thought with your voice. Endlessly. Guarding the want and the need. Slightly more than understanding nature. Dealing the hand you want without taking his hand away. Playfully. Wistfully. Peacefully. Quietly drifting to the soulful place where solitude meets understanding. Desire fulfilling itself without cheapening the thought. Calculating. Charming. The warm winter air over the cool night. Staring with complete trust. Guiding one more lust-less, love-full sweet song.

Songs to consider:

Schism (Tool)

I had to stop myself from saying something I never should've thought

Obsession. Blinding, unadulterated obsession. It's keeping me up at night. It keeps the dark shadows under my eyes and the dull pain in my cheeks. It fights with passion and reason, it copes with irrationality. The cold and the dark only serve as a conduit. They make it stronger, more volatile. I am irrevocable; closed to the light and the sound, the fury of the day and the wind. Nature serves to anger me, sadden me. It has forgotten my indifference. Rain soaked, glaring. My will serves no purpose but you. The ice in your stare, the bloodlessness of your lips. Careful. Too careful. Too cold.

Songs to consider:

I Caught Myself (Paramore)