Thursday, March 31, 2011


I keep meaning to write about my new journey. This will hopefully remind me to do so but I think that I also need to find out who I am now with all of these changes in my life. I was a full time daughter, friend, co-worker, sister. Now I'm far removed from those daily roles. Now I am a daughter and sister via letters in the post, thoughts at bedtime and weekly video chat. I am no longer a co-worker. I no longer share the same weekly classroom for dance and yoga classes with strangers whose faces were my friends.

I am no longer on ground where any face I see will have a history attached to it. All of my exes, all of my friends, all of those who could be familiar are now removed and in their place are faces I've never looked into before. Nor do they bear any recognition of me. I am somewhat of a apparition. I float past the eyes of strangers who may register me for a moment, realise they don't know me and I float back out of their consciousness again.


Here in this new environment I am changing all of those things that I didn't like about myself from my youth. Where once I would have been silent, I speak. Where once I would have cast my eyes downward, I look up. Where I would never have before accepted help, I am learning to accept outstretched hands offering assistance. So...who am I now?

I've been musing over this. There are so many features that make up a person. At it's most surface level I am a 26 year old who struggles with the number of her age with the stage of life she's put herself into because it's unconventional. I also switch the the third person reference for poetic effect. Damn you Grammar Classes.

I like reading FBI, CIA thrillers. I like mystery novels. I enjoy listening to Indie music groups as well as Top 40 Top Charts. I like jazz and classical and opera. I enjoy the theatre. I like dancing - in clubs, at a formal ball, in a dance class, in my room. I love to shower. I shower more often when I'm stressed. I value my mind over my body. I write poetry when I can. I'm an avid fan of the shows Frasier and West Wing. But I also take pleasure in watching Glee. I enjoy the simple things in life - seeing ducks waddle on the sidewalk, a shooting star in the night, raindrops on my cheeks. A melody that I love getting stuck in my head.

A student again - I'm starting at the beginning to set a proper foundation for the future that I want to have. I gave up possessions in favour of life experiences. But with that has come a price to pay and it's in the form of evaluating my life. And it has left me melancholoy sometimes. Every single person I know back where I used to live (it isn't my home) has said that they are so envious of my ability to have done what I've done. They dream and live a little through me. And I can't help but think -
Why was I the one who was able to get away? To not be trapped? How can I be this person? People who knew me when I was young - I was such a shy little thing. If you'd told them I would be moving to another country all alone to live and pursue higher dreams that were tucked away in her heart - They probably wouldn't have believed you as I would have been clinging to my mothers dress, hidden behind her knee. I was labeled sweet, friendly and intelligent. Never beautiful. I was told maybe one day I'd be beautiful. That forever injures a person's self esteem. And if or when I attain beautiful - I will never identify with it. It's my inside self that I have spent so much time working on - whatever happens on the outside is irrelevant. I dislike it when men whistle at me as I pass. I am intelligent and capable, educated and funny. But they don't know that about me. I don't how to reconcile with that either.

Changes. I've never been good with change...

I don't know who I am I guess. I will give this another try later in the week. Until I can find out the answer. Writing helps me. In the meantime, I will enjoy the sunshine in Manchester. A nice break from the raindrops that fall on my eyelashes...

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Deep breaths, she thinks to herself. Closing her eyes, she inhales through her nose and out her mouth. She holds her books tightly to her chest. Breathing deeper, she wonders why she feels the need to calm herself. A need inside of her starts to creep up her spine. Just do it, she thinks. Run. Go. Run. Run. She starts to breathe more quickly, breathing more shallow breaths and she opens her eyes to look around.
“You okay,” he asks her. She cuts her eyes over at him, then looks to the other side of the street. The feeling taunts her. Just do it, go, go now. If you don’t go now, you’ll never go. Run. You know you want to, you know you have to, can you do
it? Run. Go! Screw it.

She looks over at him and says, “No.” Tossing her books into his arms, she dashes in the other direction. Running as fast as she can, the feeling loosens its grip on her, the anxiety is left on the street corner back with her books and a past. Feet pounding the pavement, her left shoe falls off her foot and, hopping, she takes off the right one, tossing it into the gutter. This feels good. The wind whipping through her hair, the pavement scratching the bottoms of her feet, she lunges forward with everything she has, running toward nothing but away from everything.
Eventually she comes to the end of town, jogging rather than running then walking rather than jogging. Out of breath she stops at the beginning of Mister Kaluse’s corn field, hands on her knees, head hanging down, gulping the fresh night air. She leans her head back and looks up at the sky full of clouds. She wishes she could grab one and fly away from this place to somewhere new. Her feet are aching, her lungs are burning and she can’t help but smile for the first time in months. She straightens her skirt, adjusts her bra and starts to walk along the edge of the field, head tilted toward the heavens looking at stars and satellites.

“Hey,” a deep voice says from about a foot behind her. She jumps and whirls around. Her heart is pounding anew, this time a fight or flight response. A good looking man in dingy jeans and a t-shirt laughs and takes two steps back, signaling he means no harm. “Didn’t mean to scare you but I was just thinking it’s getting sort of late for a woman to be walking around in the dark on a road with no shoes or company. You need any help?” The way he tilts his chin at her and grins stirs something inside of her. It’s like she’s met this man before, although she doesn’t recognize him. His eyes sparkle with interest. “No, thank you, I’m fine. I just needed some fresh air and my shoes were just getting in the way.”

Another feeling is tingling inside of her. She walks up to the man and stands no more than a few inches from him, the heat from his body and hers mingling together in the cool of the air. “I’m better now though,” she says to him. “I can breathe out here.” He looks down at her. “Well, that’s very good. I’m glad for that. Be a shame for a pretty girl like you..” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence because she stands on tiptoe, grabs his shirt and, pulling his body closer to hers, kisses him square on the mouth. He’s taken off guard but within seconds puts his hands around her waist and pulls her close, their kiss deep, warm, familiar. She pulls back and looks into his eyes. They’d never met before but some part of her soul recognized his. She smiles a crooked grin and he chuckles softly at her. He knows it, too. His hand goes to her jaw and he gently pulls her in again for another kiss, softer this time, less urgent. Deeper and passionate. She runs her hands through his hair and down his shirt….

The night goes on around them, the world spinning along as it should. The guy at that corner went along his way, not giving much thought to the books he carried or the girl who ran off. The shoes got picked up by a kid on her way over to a slumber party, and the woman… well that is what imagination is for, after all.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Why blog?

Could it be because we feel our voices are not being heard?

At work. At home. In politics. At school. In our group of friends. By our parents. Our children. Our spouses.

People everywhere are reaching out, desperately trying to be recognised. Twitter. Facebook. Blogger.

With all of this talking - We're still not listening.

"People look without seeing, hear without listening, eat without awareness of taste, touch without feeling and talk without thinking." Leonardo da Vinci

I'm listening. What is it that you most feel needs to be said? Not to me, just in general. And post it here, if you like. Because everyone deserves to have a voice.