Creating

Sometimes I see things in words, and sometimes I see them in color. Sometimes putting pen to paper is the only way I can describe my feelings and other times, only a paintbrush and canvas will do. And for some reasons, these two mediums coexist so harmoniously within me that each knows when to take control. Right in that moment before deep sleep and dreams wash over me, creativity whispers my name, and something will dance across my mind's eye; sometimes it's a stanza of words strung together in flawless unity and empathy, and sometimes it's emotion and peace molded into color and form. Neither is too dominant - it just depends on how much I remember when I wake.

The Simple Answer

"Everybody good?" he asks.

No, we're not good. We're not good at all. We have no idea what we're doing or where we're going. Some of us are aware of that and are scared out of our minds. Others don't even notice. They just follow along, doing what they thing they're supposed to be doing. Following the people they think have it down. Truth is, no one has it down. We're all scared and confused and lost.

Me? I've got nothing down. I don't know anything for certain. And I may look like I have everything together, look like I'm strong but really, I'm weak. I'm buried under the load of an emotional mother, the load of a distant father, the load of being a good sister, a good friend, a good student, being connected to my faith, listening to God, obeying and following God, the load of diseased friendships, the load of schoolwork and school responsibilities, the incredible load of money and the worries that tag along with it, the load of insecurity, low self-esteem, the load of my future, my past, and my present. I'm weighed down by all of this. So yeah, I'm a good actress, but don't look to me for answers. None of us know what to do, but we're all in that together.

But all that's too much to say. So, "yeah, we're good."

Unfocused

The last time I based a post about the design of my blog, it was a hit. So I'm going for it again. It also has a little bit of dream in it too.

Everything is fuzzy. I feel as though I can't really see anything clearly anymore. I thought I knew what I wanted, knew what I was doing. But it's pretty clear that I was wrong; that's the only thing that's clear these days.

I showed up here with a set path. I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my life and how I was going to do it, at least up to the point of graduation. I showed up so focused, so set on where I was going. But someone pulled a sheet over my eyes when I wasn't paying attention. The ground that once was crystal clear is now a blurry opaque. I kept walking, thinking maybe I'd get somewhere. But it appears I've been walking in circles. They said I'd change, they were right; I hardly recognize myself these days.

Looking around I realize that there's not a sheet over my eyes like I thought. I'm standing in a glass box. The glass is foggy and obscure and everything around me in unclear; where I'm going, where I've been, even where I am. I keep turning in circles and the only thing I see, besides blurs of light and color, is my own reflection staring back at me. Except, she's not quite me. The expression on her face is ambiguous - is she confused? Mocking me? I can't tell. I look closer and she leans in with me. And then I realize what it is. She's scared. She's terrified and she doesn't want me to move on. She wants me to stay right here, in this glass box, where it's safe. So she entices me with thoughts and temptations that will keep me put: parties and booze, men and seduction, friendships and fun. That life, a life of glamor and excitement is alluring; no worries, just dancing and alcohol. But no, no I won't be tantalized by these lies anymore; those friendships are false, dancing an escape, alcohol a momentary bandage. Don't lie to me anymore. I'm done.

I look around at my surroundings again and I find myself standing at a fork in the road. Except this fork has many prongs - too many prongs. And none of them are very clear, my eyes are still unfocused. I can only discern vague outlines and colors of each of the different paths. There are so many ways I could go and I have no idea which one to choose. But look, there's something - a few paths. Their colors are brighter, stronger; their pathways straighter, better paved. I look to those paths.