Late Night Palm Reading

There’s a speck on my eye. I can only see it when I look away. Away from it. Away from direct light.

I know it’s there. Hindering. Distracting. I know it’s there. Reminding me, small things matter. Small things are large things. Small things.

The night sky, I see it. Only when I look away. The galaxies. The planets. The distanced anomalies to my own one-in-a-million existence.

Small things.

Key yet so insignificant. Key yet so insurmountable.

What’s trapped in my vision can be so symbolic. Symbolic to what’s to come. Symbolic to what I have to move away from.

It’s all left up to interpretation. Even still, it’s messages hold value. However I translate.

Speck in my eye. Horoscope. Distanced galaxies. Fortune.

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SuperHero

Since I could dream they were filled with the desire to be remembered. Filled with a possibility of somehow being greater.

The events that follow prove to be somewhat limiting. However, being that I’m only 24 going on 25, I can see now I have time.

Previously feeling constrained by the counting seconds, I now feel something greater, time. Time for what it is.

I am in training for the attainabilty of what I know is to come. Forcibly so.

What is life but missed opportunity? I never want to feel the sting of regret. Truer then most failings, regret is so long-lasting. In memoirs we leave them to continue forward. Forward carried in the eyes and ears of our descendants.

One day, long from now, I want the wind to whisper my name. But more so, even if I was just “that one girl,” I’d be fine. For it’s what was done and the acts that are remembered that are of significance.

Being recollected is only the small of it.

Let my war cry ring from the mountains as I am now wanting my life to be mine, shared.

We are communal and in that I want us all to have these same desires.

I do have a dream and I hope I never awaken. For sometimes the dreams are greater.

Skip to Next

I feel like I’ve been so far away lately. Distanced from my realities. Audienced in them. Cue laughter.

Hopeful the next episode will loop me into ‘previously on…’

It’s almost like being buzzed. You’re left on some worry free higher plane, looking down on those still living the real life.

I’m ready for the next season to start. Anxiously awaiting the build up to the finale. Desperately hoping for a renewal.

Communicator

I spend a good part of my days trying to conceptualize who I am. It’s because I feel so confused. Seems there’s a large part of me that can’t comprehend the complexities of others. Therefore, by conclusion, I find I do not understand myself.

“Everyone hears only what he understands.”

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Maybe the puzzle begins there, if I can grasp some sort of self-realization I can then make my way through this maze. Life is complex because of people. If you break it down to days, minutes, seconds, where are the key moments located? In instances of interaction, social, or otherwise.

“To understand the heart and mind of a person, look not at what he has already achieved, but at what he aspires to.”

Kahlil Gibran quotes

From there would behaviors feel so irrational? I would assume not. My question really, however, is what happens as we grow and change? Then what, does all the research get thrown out the door? Or, with the insights granted, we still have some comprehension as to why behaviors are occuring? Then we can never say we are surprised but that we saw something ignited.

“Get in touch with the way the other person feels. Feelings are 55% body language, 38% tone and 7% words.”

-Professor Albert Mehrabian

As one can probably tell I have reasons for wanting all this “knowledge.” Some days it feels worth the effort and others, well I just want to throw everyone into a pit of fire.

Being that I’m human my patience is wearing thin. As I strive to “give the benefit of the doubt” or to strictly “get people” I become less patient with their…limitations.

Granted you can see I am not a perfect communicator but I do value that I try, honestly. There is no day I want to pass with someone being confused as to what I meant by anything, spoken or otherwise.

Morning-side.

Why do we hold on? Ever fearful of what’s to come we trudge. Calves sore, feet salted from sweat. The ground hot like the beach thick like mud. Continuously traveling uphill.

A treadmill set at incline 10, pack on back, summer sun, forgot breakfast.

At some point we tell ourselves it’s worth it. Who’s worse, us to ourselves or others to us? I knew there were liars and thieves, away from me and in the distance, but never have I felt so comparable.

But it’s worth it.

Wondering what “it” is.

Lately I’ve been practically in-able to wake up. It’s as if no matter the dream it is better than the awake. My comatose reality plays tricks, however, creating strange awareness and frustrations.

I tried to start a book and I couldn’t focus.

I need to focus.

I need coffee, for life.

 

Midnight and Thought Provoked.

So, obviously on a sugar rush. Here I am. Insomniac. Thinking and deliberating.

I can miss what I used to see. Miss all those memories. But really I can’t tell you truly, if I do miss you and me.

Rhyming sucks.

***

Kind of spewing at the moment.

I’m feeling like I’m ready for time to move more swiftly. Can we say…quick montage to the future? That’d be great. First, of course, the epic background music (remix) has to be chosen. Not sure yet. Have a few ideas.

Eye of the Tiger

The final countdown

I’m a Barbie Girl – just to mix it up.

In no way does the music have to be motivational.

***

I’m not sure where I’m at. Kind of feeling like I’m floating through life. Grasping at straws.

The straws being forcible diet and exercise. Can’t tell if I’m really enjoying the participation or just the routine. Or just any of it.

For now I’m going to continue.

Work is losing it’s luster. Stress. Repetition. Disappointment. It’s so hard to really depend on any of my co-workers there. Smooth sailing ship is like a wet dream.

***

Good night. I think I’ll start a new book tomorrow. Something more…entrapping.