you knew all too well, didn't you.
I want to crochet a bunch of dolls staring up into the sky, because that's how I feel.
I feel like i'm staring up at the sky...wishing and hoping for some type of miracle.
They exist, you know...they're in and around, all about. Sometimes, when you look closely you can see a miracle in someone's face. Simply by the way it glows.
but, lately, i'm feeling a little miracle-less. no, I take that back.
I feel them all of the time. I feel it every time I go to summer fun and get eye-contact with cosmic (mat), or when I see a little kid offer help to another on the shambattle court. When someone says "have a nice day Ms. Winnie" (and means it)
See, they're everywhere.
I think, I'm looking for personal miracles. Love miracles, Life miracles, Financial Miracles. I'm looking for ways out and ways in. I'm looking for a new smile to attach my heart to, a new song to let my spirit dance.
The potential is in the air, so thick that it's almost visible. But, the formalization process is making me twitch with anticipation.
something will come.
it always comes.
"white sandy beach" is playing now. I think back to a couple months ago when just the intro of this song would make me start sobbing uncontrollably. I don't regret coming back anymore. not even for one second. If anything, I regret leaving.
The 4 months in alhambra wasted so much time and money. But, whatever. leave the past in the past.
I want to move to salt lake. I want to live in one of the apartments there and get back all that I've lost in the past 10 years. Of course i was too young to understand the circumstance of the "let's live with Joe" decision making, and because I was naive (and still am) I see it as being the biggest mistake in my life, but somehow I feel like I'll be able to reconcile my soul if I move back to the place that made me happiest.
Every morning, when I walk up the walkway to the district park, I see the landscape that I would look at every day from my dad's room. And even though so many years have past, the sights are still as beautiful as they were when I was 6 years old. The clouds have always seemed larger than life in salt lake, like huge white cotton=filled bubbles with the prettiest shade of golden white cascading off the sides of each curve. The grayness of the clouds pour purple shadows over the green mountains, and the occasional gusts of wind that blast over the light green-dew filled field take me back to that little place called happiness.
I feel like I want to take a quest backwards so that i'll be able to (finally) move forward. i never wanted to know joe, nor did I want him to ever know me. And that's tension.
there is tension between my mom and I (which only exists during the hours of 5 am- 10pm: joe's time awake) and, it doesn't have to be there. sometimes I hate myself for not taking business courses, or some money makign courses so that i could have' offered my mom a way out.
We're all looking for the emergency exit, and sometimes i feel like my mom and I are caught in the elevator while a building is burning down (maybe that's why I have that re-occurring dream of being trapped in an elevator...) We're trapped, and neither of us can get away.
Life can be so unfair, sometimes.
But, then again...here i am, sitting in a paid for room, typing on my computer, listening to my music as loud as I want to, I'm full with dinner (which was poke and salmon...not 3 day old soup)
...I have a steady pay check, two jobs waiting for me in august, I'm getting ready to go back to school to be a teacher...and I have all of my nearest and absolutely dearest friends around me. My mom, sister and ian are healthy and happy, and my little kiki and maxie are doing okay. So maybe life is fair after all.
We can have it all if we choose what we really want as "ours."
and this, I suppose, is all mine.