Shoe box of photographs

Today while cleaning my room, one of my jobs was to start sorting through old journals. I sorted them into 3 piles, ones to definitely keep, ones that could be given to a thrift store, and ones that I had to tear out just a few pages from each one before they could be given to a thrift store. But I didn't know what to do with those pages, so I think I will type out what they say and store it here on the endless memory of the world wide web. These are excerpts from the life of Holly at various ages and stages.

12/26/95
Today was plane until night time we watched Clueless. Personal Secrets its PG Rated.
Sincerely Holly

I love ______ He is my buddy. I also LIKE _______ At least no one knows who I like. They only tease me because I'm so teasable. I HATE it.

There was a quote from one of my sister's dreams: "Smile, even though your mule is licking your new leather shirt."

Different diary: (2 poems about the same guy, who is now happily married and I didn't even like that much)
All of them sit so still, only their upper bodies swaying to the music, their hands exploring the sound. The lights cast shadows and make their faces look angular. And through a gap in the crowd I see his brown hair spilling over his deep brown eyes and curving around his little ears. He turns his nose up from his cello to watch the baton, I am envious of that baton.

Beautiful and silent.
Your motto is actions speak louder than words. So I guess you don't need to tell us you're gorgeous, we already know. How much I long to hear the sweet strains of music coming from your hands and the cello. Together they play, one and the same, I long for them.

High School Sex Ed
Bored coughs and yawns
Lazy heads on arms
gelatinous bodies sprawled on desks
Listen, learn, or sleep
Sex and violence
juxtaposed
Only here can we learn about
these things and not perk up
Copulation
we aren't even thinking
about that
Yawn and return to sleepy dreamlike state.


It should have been me, that's not easy for me to bear.
I noticed your scars, we've all got them, some are only found inside.
But when the hurt gets so strong it feels like the only release.
It's not at all it only buries you deeper.

I sigh.
I listen to your voice, it calms my soul.

I am uncharted territory / you put me on the map
I am untapped energy / you drained me
I am naive / showed me the world
I am strong / tore me down
I am tired / filled me with life
I am full of life / and took it away
Nobody's dream girl/ Nobody's dream girl.

I had a dream last night that our house had been hit by war or natural disaster and there was water. We were trying to grab the stuff that was most important. I grabbed the tablecloth with all the names on it and All the Peanuts (our cat); there were 3 of him and 1 Snugglebunny.

Ants
I hate you
you bit my ankles when I couldn't fight back
I squish every one of you I see.

I think I like you, but you like this whole room, you sexy machine

Most of the time, I prefer solitude to busyness and running from one friend to another, constantly being the "good friend." In Nashville, there's a balance, Karye, Erin, Ems, when we talk, it is a conversation unless one of us is going through something big. But here, it sometimes feels like all I do is listen. Right now my real problem is not having a job, and you can only complain about that so much, but my friends have real problems in their lives and I listen. Don't get me wrong, I love listening and helping people when they are hurting. But I do miss talking, or having what I say be equally as important. But by saying that, I feel like I'm asking for drama in my life. I really want something positive to talk about, like how much I love my new job, boyfriend, apartment, something. Until those things happen, I guess I'll just listen. After all, it's good practice.
This whole semester is going to be a practice in patience for me. Heck, all of life is a practice in patience! I am always holding on to the last threads of my sanity when my step mom is around, always telling myself not to say "I told you so!" to that friend who got back with her ex and he did it again, always being concerned at the bills my friends have to pay, always reminding myself to smile, be nice, if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all. Don't say anything. Listen, smile, nod, Tut tut, "he's such a jerk," "I can't believe they did that!" Life is such an up and down. That could be me, but really, no it couldn't. I make good choices! Or do I? I'm still hung up on a guy who smokes pot and drinks and doesn't call. That's not such a good choice.
I'm still hung up on a guy who kissed my wrists and invited me over, inspired me to write a song, who called me a raven beauty, who told his brother I taste like strawberries, and said he was sorry for keeping me up late. I said I wasn't. I'm still hung up on a guy who flirted with the old lady cashier at Wal-mart, just to make her day, who said my brother has become like a big brother to him, who said he was overwhelmed.
I don't know anything. I'm too young. I'm too old.

Come Fly With Me

Today was the perfectly beautiful day you see every once in awhile. The sky was filled with some gray/black clouds, then some perfectly white ones lit up from behind, and the rich Florida grass and trees just glistened in the light. The streets looked like rivers, and even the dirt shone like silver between strips of emerald grass, blowing free like hair. Churning over the lake, the waves made the waters dark and mysterious, and the wind blew the lily-pads sideways, so both their deep green tops, and lime green bottoms faced the hiding sun, creating a weird glow on the water, reflecting in the green lapping waters. I want the storm to come, I am ready. I am waiting for it to carry me away. I am already a part of it.

Situation #4

"Situation Number one: its the one that's just begun,
but evidently its too late
Situation Number two: its the only chance for you,
It's controlled by denisons of hate
Situation Number three: It's the one that no one sees
all too often dismissed as fate
Situation Number four: The one that left you wanting more
tantalized you with its bait."

So I've decided to start naming my posts after songs or lyrics, cause my blog is named after a song lyric after all. This particular one comes form Jack Johnson's "Situations," and does seem to express my situations quite well. It seems like boys are coming out of the woodwork. And right at the wrong time. How nice of them to show up when I don't want them to! I don't want to assign parts to people, but definitely the last one is the one formerly referred to as "the boy," and "Mr. Stuck-up" and now we just call him Aaron, not to be confused with Erin.

I'm not in any position to date anyone or to have a serious relationship, and I think that is why he appeals to me all the more. I mean, I'm not here for the long haul, I don't want to stay in Lakeland, I don't want a reason to stay in Lakeland, and I don't want to feel compelled to move somewhere else for a boy. I want to be in Nashville, but really, what I want is not as important to me as what God thinks is best for me. I was a little crazy last night, you know, it happens. But tonight I am back to normal. But I am still thinking that I want more than what I am doing now. I am going to seriously start writing some songs, and also finish cleaning out my room so that I can move out. I cleaned the downstairs of the house today, swept and mopped the kitchen twice, and vacuumed, it is squeaky clean. Now for my room. I am going to go do something positive!

Sleeplessness

So, you know how I always say that I can't drink caffeine after noon or else I'll be up all night? I risked a mocha frap around 4 today and it's almost 2 in the morning. I am wide awake. And I am full of wonderings about my future and my past. I wish that these were more private, so I could write things just to you, my friends. But lets just say I'm struggling with the same old thing. I just feel like a failure most of the time. And honestly, it's one of the reasons I don't feel ready to do ministry yet. I know I'll never be "perfect" but I feel like maybe, just maybe I have to cross this one mountain, and I can't, no matter how much I try, or how much I don't try, and give it over to God. I have so many important things in my mind, tasks to do, people to call, jobs to obtain, that I take the easy way out sometimes. But sometimes I don't, and that is always really great.
I guess I'm rambling because I'm tired but not sleepy. I am making dinner for friends every night this week, minus Thursday.
I hate it when I know why the phone won't ring no matter how much I want it to. God knows what's best for me. When will I learn to trust him? It's not like he's ever let me down. Sometimes I worry too much, I get that from my Dad, he worries like no other! His face is all bogged down with worrying about 5 kids, his career, his wife, his homework, that he can't see past his face to the future. Sometimes I just want to scream at him, "Let it go! You can't change anything, so just let God take care of it, he'll do a way better job than you ever could, don't you trust him?" But then I realize how much of a hypocrite I would be if I said that! I tell people I don't worry or that I am waiting on God, and I am in a way, but I'm not actually actively waiting on him, I'm sort of ignoring him until I get to a place where I want to hear from him, then I will wait, but I will never get to that place until I get into him! Satan's favorite trick is passivity. Lethargy. I'm spiritually lethargic. I'm everything lethargic, except I exercise almost everyday. But I don't know what I'm doing with my life and I don't know how to draw the line between actually doing something on my own and taking initiative because I've worried too much, or waiting for God, and maybe becoming too lazy in my self-imposed unemployment. I am just stuck here folks, and I could use an encouraging word or 12. Send some love my way.

Grateful

This one goes out to all of the boys I ever liked, and never asked me out. I am grateful to you for all the things you gave me. Of course, you never intended to give me anything, sometimes not even the time of day, but you inspired things in me. Sometimes I would see something in you and say "That is so cool," and it would make you attractive, and I adopted those things into my own personality. There is my enthusiasm for washboard abs, thanks to Dom back in high school, my admiration for trucks (yeah, that's right, I like trucks) thanks to Kevin, who I didn't even really know -ha, my love of Jack Johnson from my college crush, the idea to break into the pool, from another college crush, and my eagerness to grow better at the guitar. This did not come from the overly energetic guitar licks of James, but from the soulful pickings of the one formerly known as "the boy," now called, "Mr. Stuck-up." Because of him, I spent my summer practicing and developing a love for an instrument I have always been a fan of, and now I have actually written a few songs of my own and I am going to continue to do so.
I have always wanted to be excellent at something, and I have always only been good at many things. So this summer I have just picked one and flown with it because of the inspiration of a boy I will probably never see again. So to all those boys who have held a little piece of my heart against my will, without their knowledge, I thank you. You have been a part of my life and I hope that in some small way, I have been a part of yours.

Alrighty then

So instead of cleaning my room or looking for a job, I am creating this blog. It has been awhile since I had a blog, I think the zanga days. Or is it Xanga? Whatev... So, is this private, or can any crazy person who wants to read this thing?

My life is alright now, I am just trying to sort through things physical and mental. My room is a mish mash of pish posh and dish dogs. My bathroom is spankling clean though. I mean, eat off the floor clean. But not the bathtub, I didn't have the right sponge, so it's still kind of grubby (gag, gross. haha).

Um, nothing else is new. Call me. Love you.