girl, you need to get out of this town.

I am ill today.

I couldn’t sleep last night, as usual. I had a massive headache, and my stomach was hurting terribly. When I was finally able to drift off, I shot up and out of my bed and into the bathroom where I began violently throwing up. I thought it was over but it wasn’t. I spent the night in my tub because the coolness of the smooth surface helped the ache in my body and keep the fever at bay.

I have been unable to leave my room all day. I feel rather useless actually, and cannot even reach over to open my blinds to see out my window. I haven’t been able to get out of bed, because with each attempt I am automatically overcome by a bout of nausea. The only thing I have been able to keep down is about a tablespoon of aloe-vera juice.

I caught this from my little sister. I went over to my parents house over the weekend, and took care of her because she was running a very high fever and throwing up everything. It got pretty scary at one point where I had to put her weak little body into a tub of ice water. It burned her tender skin, and she wasn’t even able to muster up enough strength to cry. Her illness has lasted about five days now, and is still ongoing. I hope that it doesn’t last that long for me. I have so much that I need to do.

So, I was thinking about what I could do to make myself feel a little useful, and I decided to post natural recipes for curing the flu (and other illnesses), that I would make myself if I had the strength.

Tea:
-1 tsp. bayberry bark
-1 half-inch licorice root
-1 tsp. grated ginger root
- pinch of cayenne powder
-1tbs of chamomile flowers
-1 tsp of finely chopped peppermint root
1 ½ cups of boiling water.

Let it steep for 30 minutes, strain, and add a little honey to sweeten it if you so desire. It’s easier on your stomach if it is cold (not frigid) so refrigerate until it is a little cooler than room temperature, and sip slowly. This is also a good recipe for clearing your sinuses.

Also, get several bowls of boiling water, and put a blanket over you and all of the water. Put a few drops of tea tree oil, peppermint oil, lavender oil, and eucalyptus oil into the hot water. This creates a sauna type thing that opens your pores and releases the toxins. If this is too difficult, go into the bathroom and blast the hottest water you can, putting it on the shower setting. Squeeze a towel underneath the door to keep the steam from escaping, and drop the oil into the running water. Sit in the bathroom until the hot water runs out.

I think that is all that I have for today. Sorry I don’t have any pictures. My camera is in my closet and I obviously can’t get up.

Have a good day!!!

~C

strangers in the night.

So, I should be in class right now, but I’m not. I am sitting in on my couch, sipping too-hot-tea in a fuzzy yellow blanket reading about the human developmental life span in a textbook that cost me my first born son, and my left eye. Is that ironic? Studying hard for the class I am currently not attending? Yes. Yes it is.

It is the start of a new year. Well, a new year on my blog, seeing as we are already halfway through the month. I’ve never really been big on the whole “New Years’ Resolutions” custom. I am always in a state of attempting to better myself, and am consistently making new goals. My larger and broader ambitions always just have a tendency of falling on the beginning of the year. But this year, I was really able to get into the whole resolution spirit. There is something beautiful about the idea of starting fresh. You could say that you hadn’t yelled at your little brother all year, that you hadn’t broken your diet all year, that you hadn’t worn pants. There is just something almost magical. Like God had not only made the world a better place by uplifting our spirits in light of the holidays and in recognition of the birth of Christ, but then sealed the ending with a hope of self improvement, and a better tomorrow.

I wasn’t able to sleep much last night, and decided to go for a walk. My walks are so intimate for me. I sometimes have a hard time even talking about them because it is always just me and the Lord, surrounded by the creations of his hands. It hasn’t snowed yet, and there was nothing more than a slight bitter chill in the air. A friend once told me that while he was on his mission, he had a companion that used to keep hot potatoes in his pockets to keep him warm, and everyone would make fun of him. I would never admit it, but ever since then I have been putting potatoes in my coat pockets to keep my hands nice and toasty. Perhaps I should carry around a little salt or something in case I get hungry on my three in the morning madness.

I went to the lake the other day; one of my most favorite places in the world. It was frozen. It was so fascinating to me, because the waves had been frozen as they were; thin, slender sheets of ice, in layer after beautifully delicate layer. It was fascinating. My friend and picked up shards of sharp ice and threw them onto the frozen surface, and they shattered into millions of diamonds. The sun was just setting, and it hit the pieces just right. Making them sparkle enchantingly. The sight took my breath away, and filled my soul. Of course I wanted to go traipsing about all over the surface, so let’s just say that I didn’t drive away necessarily dry.

My little sister has moved in with me, and I have a new roommate. They’re a pretty great lot so far, you won’t get any complaints out of me. Yet. It’s kind of nice to have people around again. I had created a regular bachelor pad with how my stuff was always lying about, forts in the living room, dishes unwashed, shoes everywhere you looked, and clothes all over the apartment. I really enjoyed living by myself, but it’s nice to not be alone anymore too. It keeps me disciplined.
Bah! I have to go. I will try to update as soon as I can. I have a class in a few minutes that I cant miss.

P.S. It still hasn't snowed and... I think that this has been the best winter Utah has ever had.

~C

frost bitten

So many things have happened in the past two months, I don't even know where to start.

Finals were absolutely maddening. Like, tear out your eyeballs and eat them kind of insane. My roommate moved out, and in a few hours I will be having a new roommate. This of whom is also my little sister.

It is still sunny out. There is still not a flake of snow to be seen in the sky. Only the tantalizing chill of temptation in the air.

The world seems to be trapped in limbo. It is not cold enough outside for snow to fall, and winter escapades to begin, but it is bitter enough for the wind to sweep you off your feet and carry you underneath your bed, with a flashlight, a cup of tea, a warm blanket, and a good book.

This week has been all about wrapping presents, laughter, baking goods, giving to others and open, compassionate hearts.

What a wonderful week indeed.

There is also a new boy in my life.

...

I know. It surprised me too.

He's an opera singer, an actor, a genius, and the kindest man I've ever known.

Aren't I blessed?

We go on adventures together.

He even made me my very own christmas tree, because I am too cheap to buy myself one. I think it is the best tree I have ever seen.

Ah, what a busy day it will be today. But I thought I would keep you updated, and let you know that I am still alive, and still questing.

I miss writing here. Even if the only person who reads these little notes is me.

~C

for the love of secrets and laughter

I’ve always hated the fall.

It’s the bitter reminder that everything that I have come to love is dying; and I am left alone. The coming of winter: being the sole remainder of my kind – my nature brothers and sisters; that have comforted me when I felt most abandoned – and am left only with the sound of a howling wind in the icy darkness.

I don’t like being left behind.

However, this autumn, with my new-grown eyes, I’ve been able to clean off the sorrow in my lenses, and see the beauty.

Beauty is often found when you least expect it; and in the most unlikely of places.

I couldn’t sleep. I put on heavy boots and a thick coat and left my house, cutting though the silence as I stepped down flights of stairs with clown feet. There was a frost already settled on the frozen ground. I could hear the grass break under each step. There was a smell of damp dust that settled deep inside of my lungs; weighing me down. I walked for such a very long time, listening to the bump, bump against the dirt.

My feet carried me to a rock, deep inside a pasture, hidden by a veil of trees. I waded through a crunchy mountain of carcasses, and sat on the cold boulder. I pulled my arms and legs under my coat like a turtle. In the light of the moon shining easily though the empty branches, I watched my breath.

Overgrowth surrounded me.

I had sat here before; long ago. It was a faint memory in my crowded head.

It had been many summers ago. I had attended a recital spotlighting my grandmother at a red-wooden house at the end of an unseen lane. She chatted with her friends upon its completion; I had awkwardly slipped into the shadows.

An open window was my escape.

Running through the tall weeds I found this place after pushing aside brambles and arms of wiry branches. It was beautiful. Sunlight forced its way through the tops of the thick layers of leaves, peeping through the sparse cracks, and streaming through victoriously. Little white wild flowers and dandelions surrounded it. I thought I had found my way into a fairy haven.

I spent what felt like hours picking the wild grasses, and flowers to put upon my head as a crown, and dreaming. I reigned that day as a princess. It had been a castle, a prison, a fortress, a cottage. All of which there was a faceless prince to rescue me, fall desperately, ardently in love with my overwhelming beauty, sweeping me into his arms, and carrying me off to an eternity of bliss.

He had always been my first kiss.

This fantastical spell was broken only by the shrill call of my name; I ran across the field back to my impatiently awaiting grandmother, but not before setting my crown on the rock, and vowing to return to my kingdom.

I have very few memories. And the few that I do have are rarely happy. This particular memory had always been my own. My secret.

I had searched for this place many times before, but had never been able to find it.

Though the mazes of my tired mind, I made my way to a happy place. But it was different than what I had remembered. Much different.

Everything was smaller, and there was an air of regret. I had remembered a mountain of a rock upon which I ruled, and trees that would have put forests to shame. Everything was brighter, the air was sweeter, the sounds were more full of joy.

But there was only a suffocating silence, and cold darkness.

A reminder, perhaps, that everything is different now.

I cried.

In my sorrow, I grabbed a brittle looking branch and snapped it in half, and was shaken by what I found:

Green.

The inside of the branches were green. Though frozen, and stiff, everything was still alive. If I listened hard enough I could still hear the shallow breathing.

I was still alive.

I realized that my inner child and the innocence I’d once had not been lost. A thick layer of bark hid what was soft and beautiful inside. The life I had been mourning for so long had never vanished. It was still there – I was still here – hidden beneath layers of stories of my past, memories of my sorrow, and masked a person I pretend to be. I was only seeing what everyone else had been seeing; though my own doings I had build a rough bark around me to protect me from the bitter winds of life.

I found my way home with frozen eyelashes. Not being able to keep the laughter slipping from my lips.

My friends were not dead. They were still there, still alive. Just hiding until it was safe to come out again.

I was still here; just hiding.

My secret.

~C

idleness and paper

I am sitting in class.

Far below me the professor stands, hiding between the waves of heads. Her whole countenance exudes the way she feels about herself: power, superiority, and intellectuality that cannot be rivaled. The students she ventures to teach have since discovered the riveting difficulty and concentration needed to conquer a match between digital face cards, and logically based metal hardware. She has become a white noise. I can hear her only if I stop my mind of all thought and hold my breath.

“…once confederate currency became nearly worthless, did the confederate congress institute a graduated income tax similar to the Union’s expenses, they furnished on—“

I believe that I might’ve turned a lovely shade of purple, which most likely matched my eye shadow I painted today. So, either I can’t type very fast, or I can’t hold my breath very long. Either way, I got some pretty great looks from my surrounding peers as I gasped for air.

Fall break is coming up. It is for Thursday, and Friday. I am actually kind of excited.

I was at my parents’ house a few weeks ago, helping my Dad clean out the house. I discovered his old bike that was conceived into existence over 20 years ago. I have needed a bike for some time now. Since I moved into this new apartment, I have found the necessity make to cause for my midnight walks to become a more rare of an occurrence. Although having two jobs and much schooling plays a big role in the lack of creativity, my environment is the basis behind my lack of yearning to connect with the life energy on a more intimate level. The guys in my apartment have been harassing me since I moved in nearly three months ago. I try not to leave my bedroom unless I have some pressing engagement. I miss it. I sit out on my balcony sometimes and watch the wind waltz sensually with the trees. I get such an aching in my heart that leaves me with such sorrow when I know that my days of dancing among them have become a rarity. However, this new form of transportation – for my Dad told me I could keep it; I have to fix it up a little though – I can go anywhere I please in a fourth of the time.

I live near a lake. Not terribly near, but near enough to walk to (if you have an extra four hours in your day). I’ve fallen in love with the dock (that was shown to me by that new friend of mine), and intend to return again Thursday night.

I bought a sleeping bag. Yeah, you’ve guessed it. I am planning on spending the night on the beach. Its no ocean, but I’ll contain my maddening desires for earthly connections; at least for a few days. But the best news is, is that I now have a bike. And I intend to put miles on.

I can’t wait for the holiday, even though work is the dominant activity of my long weekend. I am still grateful for the slowing of the stem of relentless monotony.

Alright, time’s up.

Back to the real world.

~C

the trees have spoken.

I have made a new friend.

He is truly kind, and surprisingly respectful. But, I believe that his most perceptible attribute in one word would be: fun. He is very fun. I am not sure I have ever met someone quite like him.

We went on an adventure a few days ago. We stayed up for all hours of the morning, and he explained to me the stars. Exuberant stories were told, laughter was shared; shivering lips and whispered secrets next to breathing waves were the contents of the night. I went to bed with the sound of water in my ears, and cold toes.

However, I had quite the flooring revelation whilst this escapade ensued.

All of my life I had a specific mindset of what I wished most desperately to become. Perhaps it might sound familiar: To be beautiful, loved by many, to be known by all, musically engrossed and in short, accepted. This new friend is all of that. He is perhaps the most friendly and easily likable person I have ever met. EVERYONE knows him. But I noticed something else too. Are you ready?

The person that he has become, as wonderful as it is, is not ME.

Nearly every comment I heard was about how a certain song was “cool” because he and his friends had discovered and agreed upon it, how a certain eating facility was “cool” because they had deemed it so, and that only a handful of particular activities were “cool”.

Did he not have any opinion of his own? Did he truly enjoy having his ideas and innermost thoughts crushed by popular conception? What did he truly feel? (I attempted to ask him this, but all he knew were the answers that had been fed to him. No words from the beating heart inside his body.)

I began to be self conscious just being around him and his friend because the absolute obsession with what was popular within his wide and varied social circle was apparent; and I didn’t feel I made the cut.

I love exotic foods you have to eat with your hands from small out of the way places. Not chic, sophisticated restaurants crammed with the most socially proficient college students.

I like wearing clothes that are blend-able and cheap, that are wore with the specific intention of shrinking into the lining of the walls to watch people walk by. Not clothes that are loud and exclusive, that must have cost at least three of my paychecks combined.

I like singing opera and listening to instrumentals that make me cry. Not playing ukuleles and having your senses entirely drowned in the talentless whine of some obscure band.

I like walking alone in the dark, surrounded by all that is God, and finding secret places in the world to hide and burry my heart. Not surrounded by loud, flirtatious laughter, pseudo lifestyles, and anxious attempts to be conventional.

I realized that everything that I have been quietly wanting for such a long time -- a burning desire to be “normal” – was actually not what I wanted at all. While sitting on a pier with a boy I hardly knew, I came to the grounding realization that I actually LIKED who I was. My mind, cogs turning, finally found that I didn’t actually care that I was different. I was truly uniquely me.

Who cares that I like playing nerdy adventure games instead of doing my homework? Who cares if I pretend I host talk shows to my bedroom mirror? Who cares that I walk for ages with my eyes closed, or that I run in the rain, or that I make a fool of myself in front of children because I love to hear them laugh? Who cares that I can’t fall in love?

I’ve wanted so long to be able to change myself, in order to be received as “one of them”. I care more about what my Father in Heaven thinks than what they do. I know that I will always be in amongst the people of the world, but I will never be one with them. And its okay. I am different; and I like that about me.

So, thanks to my new friend -- who loves people per his personality – I was able to discover who I am, and what I want out of life.

What a great existance I lead.

~C

with quiet mouths, and screaming eyes, we dance the dance of humanity

I am unhappy.

Weird, right? Today is the first day among many where I have been discontented. I can feel this seed in my heart that I haven’t felt in a long time. It is something called desperation; a feeling of being trapped. In every breath, every movement there is an ache to run. My eyes flicker around the room in a ceaseless circle, looking for a way to escape.

I see the world with the hues of grey I remember.

I know why I feel caged. But it is something I cannot run from. For practical reasons, for a dwindling motivation to follow a dream that seems so out of reach. I feel so tired. I am wearing down. It is my own fault, my own doing. I am the one holding the plastic bag over my head. I am suffocating in my own stupidity and lack of the ability to open my mouth and say “No. Stop. I am not okay with this.”

But I can’t.

Am I making sense?

Probably not.

It is a work in progress. Things will get better. I have faith in that. I just have to wait out the storm.

~C