Footprints Receding

with words dripping,
letters returning,
apologies surrounding,
and lives moving
onward, forwards...
we have this moment.

footprints in the sand
wiped down by your hands.

eyes keep searching
with guidance leaving.
keep your constant questions.
answers won't define lessons.

every nerve bleeds the same
no one views this way.
have we nothing left to do
but complain of mistakes
we only repeat.

footprints in the sand
wiped down by your hands.

capable of breathing
releasing old feelings.
our minds work in reverse,
growing up with lessons learned.
second chances go undeserved,
and life is proclaimed unfair.

footprints in the sand
wiped down by your hands.

Word vomit.

I think the hardest part of writing is starting. So here's my beginning - big leap into the middle of everything.

Lately, I've felt a little bit disconnected. I've come to realize that when I have a lot of my mind, I don't turn to such substances as drugs or alcohol because it's pointless. I've been there and done that. Turning myself into a numb shell of drunken ramblings as a source of entertainment is of no use to me anymore. The things that continue to follow me around will still be there when I wake up the next morning, only to make me feel worse. So instead, I've been dwelling. It may not be much better, but at least things are being faced.

I realize that I'm coming up on twenty years of age soon, and I, if fate will have it, will have many more years to experience. But as I said before, I feel disconnected. Not alone. I have family and friends that both love me, and I'm not unaware of that. However, I know I've put up some sort of wall... I've been separating myself from everyone. And maybe I'm starting to figure it out.

Within a weeks time, I had a lot of things slap me in the face. I lost a friendship that I used to think was a major part of my life. He meant a great deal to me, and I loved his company. I cared deeply about him as a person and as my friend. Now that it's gone, I guess I'm still standing in disbelief at how it all went down. From what I understand, much of the blame rests on my shoulders. But that's how it goes, right? We obviously don't see eye-to-eye. And it happens. I'm okay with that. I'm not okay, however, with how he made me feel. I've had too many people make me feel that way in my life, and that I allowed it to happen again makes me angry. Not at him. At myself. I've been told that one of my best traits is that I look for the good in everyone. Maybe I'm just becoming a cynic, but I find it to be my worst flaw. My philosophy was to always give people a second chance... a third or fourth chance, even. See, I'm human. I have made plenty of mistakes for I am far from perfect. Thus, I do try to find the good in everyone. I do hand out trust, chances, and forgiveness. Maybe this is where I'm supposed to learn. Not everyone deserves it. But how do I decide who does or who doesn't? It's confusing because it is part of who I am. I went through a dark part of my life where I lied to a lot of people that I cared about. I was angry at the world for what a stranger did to me, and I changed. Completely. Some people forgave me. Some didn't. And through that experience, I realized why I so easily give those I care about chances... sometimes we all do dumb things for one reason or another. I feel as though circumstances can change a lot in a person. I guess after a while, a line has to be drawn. I tried with this guy. And it still stings because sometimes I do find myself missing his company. But not him. Because he isn't who I thought he was. And that happens sometimes... part of learning, I guess.

My dad has a girlfriend. I'm just assuming that they've been dating for quite a while. My sister and I would occasionally hear about her in a general way throughout the road trips and phone calls. However, I recently found out that this woman from Ohio is now living in my dad's home. The hard part? I didn't know her name. In fact, I didn't... and still don't... know anything about her. I've always been a hardcore Daddy's girl. I took comfort in knowing my dad was not far away. Over the years, we've grown apart as age seems to do to parents and their kids but... we were still always close at heart. Yet, he wasn't the one to tell me. My sister was. And the whole situation seems so wrong that I can't even wrap my head around it. All of a sudden, there's a new life back home. When I come home, it won't be the same. And I'm used to things like that happening, but not with him. I don't understand. I grew up quite used to being second in my mother's life. Suddenly, the roles are switched again.

Speaking of my mother, she is getting married in two days. I'm not going to put forth any effort in contemplating that one because for too many years, that's all it's been about. She's dated other people than my dad for a long time... I'm used to it. The only hard part is this will be the first time she will be married to someone other than Dad. The ironic part? She seemed happier with Dad. Goes to show you how easily one can be deceived. She's happy, though. That's all that really matters, anyway.

I guess to sum everything up, I have felt second in my loved one's lives for a while. Everyone has his or her own situations in which they must dwell and move through. I can't help but feel left behind throughout it all. But that's life, I guess. Hanging on where you can, struggling to make something out of yourself, to stand apart from the ghosts that hold you back. I tend to hide myself away from others when I have a lot running through my head. It isn't always intentional. In fact, it usually isn't. Looking back on this week, I can definitely see where I've put up a barrier between myself and my friends and boyfriend. I'm tired of being slapped in the face. Of things changing. My whole life seems to be a transition from one person to the next whether it be friends, boyfriends, or family. But I know that change happens a lot, and I adjust pretty well to it. Every now and then, we all need a breather. I suppose this week has just been a really long breather for me.

This hasn't been a carefully analyzed and edited editorial of any kind. This is simply word vomit onto an electronic blog because lately I feel like I've had too much on my plate. So if anyone has been wondering how I've been doing... here's your answer.

"I never knew that everything was falling through / That everyone I knew was waiting on a cue / To turn and run when all I needed was the truth"

Fall, The Ocean, and Depravity of the Soul.

Day 1:

After briefly spewing out a speech on the patriot act and our freedom of speech, I hastily ran to my car, or at least what’s left of my car. After several trees, numerous road trips, and being stolen – my car has seen much better days. Now, it pops out of park if I’m not careful and there’s merely a mess of wires where my radio once layed. With Adventure in mind, I set off for Radioshack. It was finally fall break and I had to rig up some kind of device to get music back in my car – for I was going to Myrtle Beach for 4 days of adventure and tyranny. After several hours searching, I finally found a cheap boombox from K-Mart – a shopping center that I had thought was gone forever until I stumbled upon it. Flash, it’s now 11:00 – and two of my good friends are riding with me towards the beach, a 3 or so hour drive on the dullest, possibly the worst interstate in existence.. I-20. Being sober for 4 days in a row, I’m experiencing an odd clarity to my mind – something that’s both unwelcome and unfamiliar. Clarity of the mind leads to self-reflection at some point in time, and that’s just something I try and avoid at all costs. Upon arriving at the beach, going to Wal-Mart – America’s #1 feted cesspool of inbreeding, cheaply made imports, and corporate corruption – and cooking some dinner, consciousness immediately faded into sleep.

Day 2:
Waking up at noon is a truly degrading feeling. Opening your eyes and immediately seeing the sun above the sky uncomfortably thrusts the cold truth of being a lazy degenerate down one’s throat. The day goes slowly – filled with music and the ocean – a constant reminder in this trip of the depravity in me... that life is consistent with or without me, which is a beautiful and eerie reminder that I’m stuck in the middle grounds, neither success or failures really matter – unless I can somehow manage an extremity. Around noon, my blood alcohol content is steadily raising. In preparation for the upcoming show – “I’ll drink to that” reverberates throughout the apartment. The show is pretty amazing, the opening band, Fair to Midland, rocks to high heaven – after spending almost an hour trying to remember where I have seen them – flashbacks of previous concerts pour through my mind and I come to the realization that if I were deaf, I would be an utterly broken person, not to give anyone the impression that I am currently a whole person – but the point is that music is my outlet and in a sense my soul. After several hours of rocking out we head back to the condo – When we get back – a harmless card games turns into hours of slurred speech, blurry memories, and impaired judgment. At one point someone points out that “There’s thousands, possibly millions of gallons of water in that ocean – that’s a lot of water man” – at this point my mind was baffled. I was standing 9 floors up on a balcony overlooking millions of gallons of water; my friend was so right – that was a lot of water. I immediately became thirsty and staggered inside for another drink. From this point until I wake up the next day, my memories only exist in short thirty second bursts and my vision was deteriorating into what I can only describe as a static filled television. After several philosophical conversations, uncontrollable laughter, and the steady and unchanging ocean – I finally met my end for the night, only to wake up at an even later point in the next day solidifying my suspicions that I have yet to find a purpose in life.
Day 3:
On the third day we all rested both our minds and bodies. A brief adventure to get breakfast, I explained to a baffled waitress that lemon in coffee is the only way to drink it. She replied that in thirty years of waiting tables, she had never seen that before. For years I’ve been putting lemon in my coffee – what started as a drunken prank has turned into one of my favorite beverages. It gives one a sense of class and style, individuality and grandeur, putting lemon in coffee. Always there are non-believers who refuse to even comprehend the idea of zesty and bitter in a mug. Needless to say, I told the waitress that she is lucky she went to work today, because quite frankly, she learned the most amazing secret to enjoying coffee, and now she has the knowledge to pass it on to the masses. My mind has long since lost the clarity that I spoke so disdainfully about in my previous documentation of this trip. I’m mumbling to myself about trend-setting and revolutionizing the coffee industry. After a few minutes of strange looks from all sides of the table, I coolly blurt out some trivial fact about the French toast on the menu. Not that it mattered, but it was a keen distraction for those that cannot comprehend my zesty creation. The evening results in three of us driving around the strip – looking for adventure in all the wrong places. We arrive at Broadway at the beach, run around for what feels like a few hours – rent two movies – and head back to the condo. We all have a stoic look on our faces, for we have made a decision that will not be simple. We’re going to stay up till the sun rises over the ocean. Upon our arrival I immediately start drinking to ensure that I do not get involved with a little tension between my two remaining guests. Quickly after the first movie is over, my fragile mind is broken. I fall asleep holding a now-empty gallon of wine – only to wake up rambling about how it is a good girlfriend because it doesn’t call me stupid. After an hour or so of babbling and singing in half a daze – I finally awaken just in time to watch the sun rise over the ocean – one of the most beautiful sights one can witness in this area. With the mission accomplished, sleep quickly takes hold of me yet again.
Day 4-5.
The rest of the trip is absolute relaxation and rest. We stay at the condo and watch TV and movies the entire day. Nothing too much – our trip is coming to an end. The next day we clean and pack up for the trip home. Our adventure is over – with many pictures and stories to document it in our memories – we all are a little sad about leaving. The monotony of life will hit us hard on Monday. With several tests, countless of hours of homework and studying, and early classes every day, my week looks grim. Now here I am, sitting outside of a Starbucks getting my daily dose of caffeine, typing up the rest of this narrative. Once again that eerie clarity in my mind has returned and self-reflection has once again been eating away in the back of my thoughts. So my fearless readers – I’ll raise my glass to you all and drink to the next adventure in the near or distant future.


-D