Written Whispers

I feel the need to state that this post has absolutely nothing to do with anything I’ve ever posted before.

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I hereby vow not to care about it anymore.

It’s making me depressed and I don’t want to be depressed, not only for the obvious reasons but because I don’t want those I love to be depressed that I’m depressed.

So, I won’t think about it anymore. It’s not happening. It makes me a little sad but I can live without it.

Until I know I can keep this vow I will not read about it, write stories about it, or talk about it with friends casually (though for a specific two of my readers I will talk to you about a side matter someday). Not that I’ve been doing much of the latter two to begin with. I won’t do any of that because I know in the end it will lead me to think about it and I will get depressed and as much as I want it- it’s not going to happen so I will stop wishing for it.

This is my vow to myself.

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*sigh* Sorry this is such an off kilter post and that I don’t plan on explaining it but I find I tell the deepest of truth when I write it and if I’m going to keep this vow I needed to write it down. I don’t know how long I’ll keep it but I just need to keep it until it doesn’t depress me anymore, when it doesn’t and it’s safe to think about it again then I will.

Night.

Hey all, sorry about yesterday’s post. No, I’m not sorry for expressing myself or anything like that so please don’t freak out. I’m just a bit sorry that I let it get to me like that. It’s not how I usually am but I’ve felt really terrible lately and I’m so tired of one thing or another being wrong with me.

My next day off I’m going to the doctor’s, willingly, because this is just horrid. I actually cried last night.

Anyways, I need to go write something else and make myself all happy inside again. Night.

Hello all! :) Sorry I haven’t written much lately, I’ve been… oddly stuck lately. Not a writer’s block sort of stuck, I’ve never had a problem with that sort of thing- my attention span doesn’t allow me to work on any project to the point of exhaustion which in the end is really a good thing.

No, this stuck’ness is something different. I’m having trouble deciding how to spend my time lately and little choices like should I check my email or my horoscope, or should I go draw or go paint, are starting to take more and more time. I’m thinking it’s one of two things, either A it’s because I finished writing my story and my brain is still so fried that my neural pathways are starting melt or maybe I just don’t know how to function after finally completing a project or B it’s something entirely different that I don’t feel like discussing right now.

All that aside, my stomach is killing me. I think I might have to take a trip back to the hospital soon which is really saying something coming from me. As often as I complain about all the junk that’s wrong with me I really don’t go see a doctor as much as you would think. The last time I went was cause my Hubby threatened to call an ambulance and I was having trouble breathing for a good three days, this time it’s cause it feels like I have a small but growing bonfire in my stomach.

It’s not like it’s anything new. I’ve had a problem with this since I was fifteen but the pain is starting to become too much and now that I know it’s tied in with my asthma, or actually vice versa, it makes me worry. I’m starting to lose what little control I had over it, see before- I knew if I avoided stress and a lot of the foods I like I could keep it under wraps. Now, I’m back on my stomach pills and having to take a lot more than I should and popping Rolaids like candy. Even right now I feel like I’m going to be sick.

I’m not really under any stress either. Life is good, it has it’s ups and downs and a few quirks but nothing like what my stress was a few years ago. I’m loved, happy, and quite content minus work and some other things that are all pretty tiny.

There’s this new lady up at work, a really awesome person and a wonderful worker with only a few undesirable traits to her personality- one of which is using her ailments as a an excuse for things. I can tell from the way she talks that she’s trying not to mention it too much but when she brings up all these different conditions for not wanting to do certain things… well, if she wasn’t such an awesome helper I’d be kind of pissed off to say the least.

We were talking the other day, she mentioned how she had trouble lifting things cause of her back and I told her about my own back troubles (Scoliosis, hip maligned, etc) to show that I understood what she was going through and her first response made me cringe so badly I’m thinking she might have noticed.

“You can get disability for that, you know?”

“I know but I don’t want it.”

“Why not?”

“They’d put a weight lifting limit on me and all kinds of other things I don’t want to deal with.”

“Not necessarily…”

I shifted the conversation away at that point. She new and I don’t know her well enough to confide in her but the truth of the matter is I don’t want to be labeled. Labels don’t matter to anyone unless you make them matter but if I see that on paper “Disabled” it will matter to me. I hate when people ask me to lift the glass racks at work. Most people just assume I can’t because I’m so tiny but some of them still ask me from time to time and I can’t just say “I can’t”. It doesn’t work like that and eventually I have to tell them I have such and such wrong with me, even if I’m vague it’s a mouthful.

Then when they offer for me to eat something, whatever’s been cooked for the buffet, if I decline they always ask me why. Once more this is a curse on my size, too many people think I’m anorexic and it bothers me terribly so once more- I feel I have to explain why I can’t eat such and such, once more even vaguly it’s a mouthful.

When I suddenly have to sit down and take a break or I turn on the fans in the dish room, it’s cause I can’t breath or when I have to run off suddenly to se my inhaler. I hate when people use their ailments as excuses, my mother always did it and encouraged me to do the same for much of my life, even going as far as telling me to pretend I was ignorant so I could get into the easy classes at school. It’s terrible and every time I have to explain myself I feel like I’m doing the same thing even though I know I’m not. I feel like everyone is going to see me as a hypochondriach and though I don’t tend to care what others think… it bothers me each and every time.

*sigh*

I’m also getting absolutely fed up with people commenting on my weight. I’m skinny, yes. I’m not anorexic. Not I don’t give a crap if you think I’m lucky and no I don’t give it a crap if I am and finally NO, I will not be wishing my metabolism was the same as now when I’m thirty because genetically speaking in my family my stature is not going to change and NO I don’t feel like telling each and every darn person that over and over again.

I’m tired of hearing it, it’s always the same no matter what they say.

“Oh, my gosh, how do you stay so skinny?”, “You don’t have an eating disorder do you?”, “My arm is like two of yours!”, “Wow, you’re so tiny.”, “You’re so lucky, I wish I could be your size” I hate that one a lot considering most doctors believe me to be malnourished, “It muse be so easy to shop for cloths.” yeah, I have to shop in the children’s section, and the ever famous “Have you gotten checked for worms?” when I explain that if I don’t eat for a whole day I can lose up to three pounds (tested and proved when I had to fast before giving blood one day).

I’m ranting but I’m just so sick of it. Anyways, I feel terrible and I just wanted to get that all out of my system. Normally this stuff doesn’t bug me but I feel so uncomfortable in my own body and other people are making me feel worse. The ailments are one thing but when people keep ragging on me for my weight… enough is enough. I want to start wearing a sign around my neck explaining it all so people will shut up and stop asking me. I want to look in the mirror and not believe others see me as a skeleton. I want… I don’t know what I want. I want to be happy in my body and I want the curve in my back to go away, I want my hip to no longer stick out, my teeth not to be crooked, my bones not to jut out. Not because others want me to be that way but because others have made me want to be that way.

But most of all I want to be happy again with how I am and I can’t do that with people constantly telling me… *sigh*

Good night.

[posting this before work, i don't have time to edit or spell check but- i don't care. i'll do it later. love, peace, and tofu grease, may all your dreams come true!]

I wanted to post about this the other day but somehow it just didn’t happen. Now that I look back I’m starting to think it’s because I was writing about it for the wrong reason. I wanted to write about it because I just wanted to tell others what we’d done, now I want to write about it because I want to share mye experince and my thoughts on it which is a different matter entirely.

The other day was absolutely wonderful. Kei and I hung out in the bookstore for a few hours while my Hubby was in classes, he had a really big test today and was all kinds of frazzled about it. He always gets like that even though he’s so smart and almost never gets anything below and A-, but then again he looks down on himself and his skills if he get’s that little minus on the end, silly Hubby, doesn’t know how awesome he is.

Anyways, so Kei and I hung out for awhile doing some research on a project of ours, sitting in the middle of the store with artbooks, drawing pads, notebooks, and all that jazz trying to get the image of our story characters down on paper. It was pretty fun. I never really had an exact visual in my head up until this point, I mean I knew so-and-so looked like such-and-such but I didn’t know such-and-such had a specific sort of shade to it or made so-and-so look that much more like who she was. It was really fun. :)

At some point in time we decided we needed to do a little shopping for that silly Husband of mine. I know a trinket can’t do much to cheer one up or make them feel better about certain situations but just knowing that I noticed he was upset and that I was thinking about him probably helps in it’s own way. So, through the snow and ick we trudged on down to Wal-Mart.

Wal-Mart… was an interesting experience. Mind you I’ve been very… wide awake… most of this week and thus have a surplus of energy that might not be being channeled towards the right uses- not that I care, but let’s just say one shouldn’t try to ride their shopping carts through a public store if it takes two to steer the darn thing in the first place. Also, if it takes two to steer a shopping cart, the two people it takes probably shouldn’t be allowed to steer at all. Finally, if it takes two to steer a shopping cart and the one is trying to ride the shopping cart it doesn’t matter how quiet you are trying to be someone is going to hear it eventually. :) Not that I’m speaking from any recent experience mind you.

We spent little less than an hour in there, most of which was spent trying not to crash our cart while walking normally, I think the thing had it out for us, while we went around trying to find something to cheer my Hubby up. ventually we settled on this awesome jar candle that smelled like hazelnut coffee. With my asthma it’s hard to find scented things to get rid of that pet smell in our house but I don’t usually have trouble with certain candles, because my kitty still hasn’t learned not to lick lit flames we like to get the ones that come in jars. It was perfect. The lady at the counter made a comment on how she’d never heard of one buying a candle for their husband, I thought it was silly, he loves candles. Why not buy him one? :)

We ate a spinache and meetball sub with mustard on it at Sub-Way (hey, I like the combo, okay?) and then headed back out into the cold, now this is where this post is going to take a slightly different turn for the night. It’s a moment that makes my heart like up with a billion dazzeling flames.

Before on our way in we saw an older gentalman standing over a charity bucket ringing a bell to collect donations for the needy. I’d told Kei to remind me if I forgot to put some money in the bucket, in the end I didn’t need to be reminded but I would have felt awful later if I forgot somehow. Something caught me though as I put my money in and the man gave me a heartfelt thank you. Though this was the same man who’d been standing out here in the cold when we entered the store over an hour ago, and though it was snowing even harder than before, and despite the fact that he was walking circles to probably keep from freezing his thank you still sounded so sincere. I wondered when the last time was that someone had thanked him for what he was doing as Kei and I walked on back down to Borders intent on getting some warm drinks as soon as we entered the bookstore.

That’s when it hit me.

When we finally got back to the store, figners cold, and teeth chattering despite the fact that the walk isn’t that long and we were only out there for a moment my sister and I sat down and I went through what money I had in my purse. Together we decided that instead of buying our own hot drinks we’d buy this awesome good sameritain a hot coffee. It wasn’t much and that extra bit of change could have gone towards the charity but I had to do it. He’d been out there for quite awhile and in my mind I figure someone should have already brought him some. That’s just the way my little universe works.

The guy at the counter of the coffee place knows my Hubby and I and thus knows that I am absolutely not supposed to have any form of caffein. Ever. He thought I was ordering it for me and started to joke about how he was going to tell my Hubby so I told him what we were doing. The lady behind me, I honestly didn’t see her back there and she kind of scared me a little bit, thanked me. At first I was really confused, she didn’t have a reason to thank me but then as we spoke and I looked at her I got it. She was thanking me for helping him in the only way I could, for doing some small act of kindness even though she wasn’t involved at all. What struck me was once more how when someone said thank you they sounded so sincere. It was the second time I’d heard it that day and yet those two thank you’s sounded so much more- anything than I’ve probably ever heard. It restored another bit of faith in me.

Kei and I walked back into the cold even though it was very against our baser natures. She didn’t have a coat and let’s just say I don’t handle the cold well- ever. Either way, we walked on down, I kept my hand over the lid of the coffee trying to keep it just a little more warm throughout the trip. It wasn’t much, just a simple black coffee and I snarled at myself later for not thinking to bring sugar and creamer packets with me but with his gloves on it probably would have been more trouble than it was worth.

Giving it to him was the hardest part, neither Kei nor I are very communicative by nature. Not even with people we know unless we’re writing to them. It took a moment or two but eventually I made myself go up to him and though I can’t remember off the top of my head the exact words I used it went something like this:

“Excuse me, sir?” He turns towards me and I hold out the coffee in front of me. “I know it’s not much but my sister and I wanted to thank you for everything you guys do. It’s just a simple black coffee, nothing special, but we wanted you to have it.”

His eyebrows went up into his forehead and the man smiled this great big honest smile and it was awesome. He was kind of speechless for a moment until he could get a thank you out, Kei and I just smiled back put another buck in the bucket and walked away and it was awesome. The whole weay back neither of us could stop talking about how his smile was so great and that it felt so nice to be the ones to have brought it out. We don’t know him, and he didn’t know us, but either way we all brought out a smile each other, each giving and recieving as the season promotes.

The rest of our night at the bookstore passed without anything of interest happening but our moods were in the sky, you couldn’t have found two more cheerful girls that night. I watched Kei draw some more for awhile and we ran around a bit singing songs of our own creation (ie. the roadkill song) and getting strange looks from people, randomly walking up to strangers and saying with great enthusiasm “I love your pajammas” because they really were cool, and dancing to our own beat in the universe.

Later we bought ice creame though it’s winter time and all we do it complain about the cold but for it we apreciated the warmth all that much more. :) I still haven’t been able to stop thinking about that man’s smile, it cheers me up even now as I write this and now I’m going to go to work and teach the roadkill song to some of my coworkers in hopes of sharring my same cheer with them. :)

A memory is working it’s way up through the depth of my soul. I want to write it. I want to share it. Even though it is tinted grey it’s a beautiful little bauble that deserves to be let out -but- I’m afraid.

I’m afraid if I do share it, nay, if I even begin to put the pen to paper or the fingers to the keys that it’ll hurt and I’ll fall back into that time and place. That I’ll lose this new sight of mine to see it as a bauble instead of… something much different. I want to keep my objectivity, my distance, the past is in the past after all but- I’m afraid I won’t be able to do that.

Still, this desire to share isn’t abating.

Hmm.

I want to write about the three days I spent in a detention home after one of my runaways. The… experience… was much more pleasant than my stay in foster care which in the end is what makes it so sad, that I’d rather have all my physical freedoms taken away than go back to the place I was. I don’t even know why I suddenly want to share this but I do. It just hit me like ten minutes ago. Maybe it will pass.

[Actually wrote this the other day but I keep forgetting to hit post, lol. Sorry about that. I'm doing comments in a bit and I should be making my rounds, finally, to all your blogs later tonight. I hate not knowing how everyone is doing. :) Blessed be my writerly friends! PS. I don't even know if I re-read this and it was written during a very... spazzy kind of moment so... you've been warned.]

I feel like dancing, like the winds of wonder and enchantment are beneath my feet and the world is turning to my tune. So much beauty in the universe, like a spider’s web covered in dew drops and though the storm make shake it- it has remained. Beaten and battered, yes, but it still remains. A fragile thing and a symbol for a much greater force than it’s own, the spider’s web… amazing.

Sorry, feeling- unnaturally happy. I say unnatural because by all rights I should be ranting from one side of this post to the other about this series of migraines I’ve been having for probably a week now, maybe a little less- but I’m not. I’m just,… I feel wonderful. So, either it’s a tumor blocking off certain necessary brain functions or it’s the direction my thoughts have taken me more and more lately.

For starters, I’ve been talking to my angels a lot these past few… days? Seems like days but it could be weeks for all my sense of time is worth. Anyways, I’ve been talking to them more lately, I’m not really sure why. Usually I only talk to angels, among other things, when one of my loved ones or I is in some serious trouble and I know I just need to hand the problem over to the universe because it’s beyond me or late at night when I’m stuck in my thoughts and I need to bounce them off someone who’ll just listen.

Recently though- I think I’ve found a new kind of faith.

No, scratch that.

Restored faith.

We were all children at some point in time or another, some of us less than others sadly but we were still children. We all still believed everything would work out just fine until the world showed us differently. We all believed, at least once in our lives, that love was what made the world turn and that if one hoped hard enough anything could be achieved.

For many, most, of us thoughts as innocent as that are plucked from us early on. For some of us they are squished before our very eyes. It’s not a happy thought but it’s true.

I… don’t really remember a lot of my younger years. I know a lot of people can at least remember when they were seven or ten, and then there are those special people who can remember when they were two and three. I can’t remember a whole lot and of what I can- it isn’t entirely worth remembering.

I don’t remember a time, when I was younger, when I thought everything in the world could be all rainbows and sunshine. I don’t remember ever thinking that if I kept some flicker of hope burning even deep within the shadows that the world could be all right again. My life just didn’t leave room for such thought, not that they were foreign- television can teach a multitude of things for a perceptive child at any age and I often used such  concepts when I played with my imaginary friends but I never really believed- never had faith that prayers, hopes, wishes could be answered.

I also used to not believe in promises. To me a promise was like an adult view of Santa. The belief gives one hope but in the end you’re the one who has to fulfill your hope, Santa to adults is more like a concept. A symbol of giving without holding back during this season, but no man in a red suit is going to bring you your Christmas cheer. You have to bring it to yourself and others otherwise it just doesn’t get done.

To me, promises were like that. My ‘mother’ was always promising something and while I was more than happy to play pretend with her and go along with it I knew that things promised just didn’t happen. Even at the age I’m at now (twenty, just had a birthday) I find myself utterly shocked when someone keeps a promise they made to me.

I remember when it first started to happen. My Hubby, my wonderful, insanely sweet Hubby was the first person who really started to keep promises that were made to me. He promised to come to court with me when I was afraid of seeing my mother or my old case worker. He came. He promised to protect me when I was scared. He stood over the car when I ran and hid in it. He promised to always be there for me. He picked me up when I ran away.

He promised to give me a home. I’ve officially lived in this house longer than I’ve lived in any place before. He promised I’d always be safe. I’ve never felt safer in my life. He promised to love me forever. He married me both by law and soul. He promised never to break my heart and he still holds it in his hands with more care than anyone has ever shown me.

Just thinking about this, it makes me so happy, a little sad too that it’s such a shock to me but mostly happy because… well, it’s beautiful.

What’s even more beautiful is, this isn’t the only thing that has restored my faith in the universe. I don’t know how to explain the big thing on my mind right now, it’s not just my Hubby, it’s… it’s a lot of things. Big things and small things and things that seemed so insignificant at the time but proved to be so amazing with the next few steps down the path I’m walking.

I feel kind of beyond myself right now with these thoughts in my head, so beyond me that words are having a hard time reaching my fingers. I feel like I’m not old enough to say what’s in me, not that age matters but it’s like- my life has been so impossibly short so far and there is so much before me. I haven’t lived long enough to have this ability to see what I’ve been seeing lately.

I’m looking back on my years, all the paths I’ve walked and I think about all the things I’ve wished and prayed for over time. I think about all the things I’ve spent time talking to the angels and faeries about and wondering why I want them so badly, if I deserve them, and why I just never seemed able to have them. Things like love, safety, family, a stable home and smaller things too.

I look back on all this and each time it seemed like these wonderful facets of my life were pulled further away from me and I thought my world was burning down around me- I look at all this and suddenly I see how each and every time my heart broke I was actually being launched closer to what I really wanted.

Every time I asked the universe for something I was getting what I asked for, sure it took a lot longer than I would have liked (though now I’m better able to appreciate it all) but it still happened. It’s so amazing to see this and feel this that words just don’t do it justice.

Then again, these aren’t just words. Words aren’t strong enough for the things in my head and heart which is probably why I repeat a lot of the same stories from my past over and over again- not because I’m stuck in these moments (though, I’ll admit I am from time to time) but because I feel the urge to share them and I’m just not talented enough to pull these threads of my soul out and show them to the world with all the colors and flavors they deserve.

I want to thank you all, my readers, my writer buddies, and those people who come to see what’s flown from my mind but never make themselves known. All of you. You’ve been my angels this past year and a few, listening to me no matter the subject be I bitching or trying to imprint my very soul into the words I so crave to master. You’ve helped me more than most of you will ever know. Thank you, friends. You give me such purpose.

Replying to comments all right this very moment.

Update: Done replying to all known comments. :)

Some interesting stats I felt like sharing.

This blog has:

226 Posts in the just over a year it’s been up. :)

770 Awesome comments from you awesome people, count doesn’t include spam as I delete it all.

And 214 spam comments deleted in the two months that I’ve been on WordPress. That might seem terrible since I can count on one hand how many times I was spammed on blogger but in reality what it means is that though spammers are finding me it’s because my search results have improved greatly. A pro and con sort of thing.

Ah, time to get back in the regularity of posting before my brain turns inside out and stains my carpet but first I need to answer all your wonderful comments. Just before that thought- I found this little thing on a Myspace thing (yes, I really do have a myspace but aside from using it for talking to two of the friends on my very small list I don’t bother with it much). Normally I discourage these greatly, little survey bulletins that encourage younger or often just plain stupid people to give out their location and date of birth just as this one had but as I read the questions over I decided I wanted to do it but that I’d rather post it here as my different approach on the little thing my draw attention up there and I really rather use this blog to support myself socially rather than the mass of information collecting that is myspace.

Here is goes.

It’s titled ‘I AM’ and the object is the fill in every second line.

My name is…
Whatever I currently choose to respond to but far from what I was biologically given. My spirit responds to the name Feeby, that’s what I call myself inside my head and that’s the name I give to others.

and my life started on…
The day my feet landed on this path. I’d like to say it began December of 2003 but it’s hard to tell just when one foot landed as I picked the other up.

in this place called…
Home. Wherever I am it is home and I’d fight for that any day.

and I now reside in…
My writer’s nest. Laptop, blankets, comfy chair, food, and a few cats. What more could I need right before I set my sights on a project of mine?

because…
I love to write and it’s the warmest place in the house.

My family consists of…
Two adoptive moms, an adoptive father, an adoptive brother, three adoptive sisters, one worth claiming foster sister, two biological brothers, three biological uncles and an aunt by marriage, a grandpa, my wonderful husband, a sister and brother in law, a mom in law, several dozen other in-laws I cherish, all my writing buddies, and innumerable friends. My family is growing everyday and though only a few members are by blood and I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting them outside the net- I’m pretty darn content.

I am currently…
Sitting here, filling this out, thinking about food, watching mat cat get ready to fall off something, shoving tissue up my nose, and contemplating just how the heck I’m going to get through the next six or so months.

and I have been..
Listening to a lot of music and driving myself crazy thinking about my story and school.

The sweetest thing done for me was…
When I was in my last foster home. It was four in the morning and I was lying in bed crying, it was one of the worse days- one of the ones that led me down deeper darker paths where I thought constantly of giving up, that there was no way I could wait out that pain. Somehow, the man who is now my husband but was only a good friend then, knew. He texted me asking if I was alright. No one knew I had a cell phone but him and a few close friends from work. I spent the next four hours crying muffled tears into my phone and pouring out text messages until expressing myself was such a raw action that it hurt and he, in his own way, stayed with me that entire night giving me the words I needed to get through another day. I’d never before willingly cried to another person.

I can’t stand
Many things. The difference between what I can’t stand for and what others can’t stand for is that I often stand up and say so. Not always the best of habits but it serves me well when I need it.

I like…
To eat. It’s my second favorite, often overlooked, hobby. Food is just good.

I love…
So much. I love my husband, my family, music, writing, crafting stories, the warm sunshine on my back, a winter morning while I’m still cuddled deep in the recesses of my warm bed, life, living life, every breath, every snatch of song, every whisper on the wind, and beat of my heart. I love a lot of things

I hate…
How that word is thrown around so easily, not just in today’s society but through all of time. Everything from rifts between family to all out wars and the persecution of others who are different have all began with that stupid little four letter verb. It’s not so much an emotion as an action. Now, if you ask me about the top few things of my list of disliking- I would tell you: those little icons, labeled as emo, that encourage teenagers to slit their wrists because their boyfriends of girlfriends dumped them or kids who think it’s a nice way to get attention. Child abuse or abuse of any kind but most especially the slow degradation that spawns from verbal abuse and how instead of the quick pain that kills the body is slowly wears away the heart and soul to destroy you from the inside out.

I eat…
Everything. :) Ice cream, waffles, fish, seafood, noodles, Chinese foodles, some fast food, lots of bread, some poultry, very little beef. :) But I’m hungry so let’s not speak of this cause otherwise I’ll post all about food for an hour.

I play…
World of Warcraft when I know I won’t have anything important that has to be done within a week, and Sims2 when I need a break from other things and feel like controlling someone else’s life.

I study..
I don’t want to discuss studies at the moment. Maybe later.

I cook..
When the kitchen is clean I can make a nice pot roast, casserole, dumplings, just about anything. You name it and I’m sure I can try to cook it, I’m actually quite handy in the kitchen despite being a fire hazard.

I watch…
The sun set, the snow fall, the moon rise, and my cat’s tummy rise and fall as he lays in my lap unconscious. Words appear on the screen and keys slowly being worn down, fishes swimming in the tank, and- on occasion, the television.

I wear…
Clothing- mostly.

I drive…
Myself crazy from time to time and I’m sure I’ve done it to others as well, lol.

I drink…
Soy milk when we have it, otherwise it’s flavored water and apple juice. My soda intake has been cut down to zilch because of the way my body reacts to it.

I sleep…
After being awake for nearly nineteen hours? Maybe? I’ve never done the math but as I sleep a good four or five hours after staying up till like eight in the morning depending on my mood.

I think…
Many, many thoughts.

I need…
More than just a little self discipline.

I want…
To see what mutatious lifeforms the fridge is harboring today.

I feel…
A little tired still but it’s my fault for staying up till noon today- I have a habit of not looking at the clock whenever I have a good book in my hands.

I hope…
To always have hope because it’s the day I lose it that my whole world will have ended. Without hope there is no purpose for anything.

I wish…
Many wishes, mostly that time would slow down or that others had more of it to spend with me.

I will…
Wait till the very last minute and I will regret it.

I am…
Many things but mostly I’m just me. I’m a wife, a writer, a Taoist. I’m the sum of my memories, experiences, thoughts and desires. I’m a girl, a child, a sister, and to some I’m like a mother. I’m a student, a peer, and according to others a teachers. I’m hopeful, fearful, happy, content, cautious, adventurous, tired of living in the shadows of the past, and braving a new step forward everyday.

I am me and I have no desire to be anything else. :) What are you? I’m also too lazy to do more than spell check this so if their are errors just deal with it.