Thursday, April 28, 2011

Chapter 24: To Learn and Know

I will not try to disguise my anger and the tears that are hiding in the depths of my eyes as I write this. Yes, I am angry. I am sad. I am forlorn. I am lost. I'm just ultimately depressed. Very depressed. If you think  that it's just a phase, then I as you to go back and look at my life. I know it's something deeper than temporary angst.

I said I would write more. The problem is, there is so much I want to write about but cannot write about. I want to respect the privacy and reputation of the people I hate, loath and make my life a living hell. Why, you ask. I have no idea. I should exploit them in literature. Make them vial villains of my story. But I won't. This chapter, I had wanted to talk about happy things since my morning went so well. It was a wonderful morning. But before I tell the story of today, I should tell you that I have been battling my father and mother over school and college since I was 17 years old. And now it's really boiling down with me being 21 and not having any college degrees. I had to switch degrees so many times to accommodated what my parents wanted for me. To this day, I am still sacrificing what I want and making myself out to be someone I'm not so I can please them.

Long story short...
I want to teach Creative Writing in two-year universities. Why two-year? I don't know. Sounds cozier to me. First, however, I wanted to be an actress. Mom and dad tried to squash that dream for years. I pursued it but eventually mingled Art with it. I saw no future for me in Art. I love drawing, painting, pastels, building and crafting, but I cannot do it for a living. I lack that type of inspiration. So what to do? My true love was musical theatre and that was so far out of the question. So I discovered my heart's desire (yes, it is different than a true love. True love can be found more than once. A heart's desire can only be found once. It is greater.) That desire was writing. Writing in all forms, but above all--Creative Writing. You probably cannot tell from this blog, but I love writing and want to take care with it. Not on here though. This is different. Any way, I decided to write. Naturally, hurricane parent strikes again with, "You can't make a living off of that" and other such true notions that a young, passionate heart never wants to hear. I published a novel with a con-publisher and continued to write poems, short stories (fewer than I should though) and lengthy novels as well. Finally, I decided that the only way to make money off of writing (as in 'make a living') was to do the ultimate sin: Teach others to follow in my worthless, creative footsteps. I would teach. At first, I said high school, but after observing a high school English class for a semester (I was homeschooled don't forget) I decided, "Why waist my time with kids who don't care at all?" Yes, I still detest children as much as I want to be a foster mother. So I decided to elongate my school years and go for a Masters in English with emphasis in Creative Writing so I could be a college professor of Creative Writing!
The dream. But now it's down to fighting parents again. Not about degrees (I hate that old battle. It kept me in junior colleges far too long) but about schools and colleges. I say one school, dad says no. I say another school, dad says what about the last one? On and on we go, a new carousel to obtain victory over. I though that HBU would be a good one. But they soon showed themselves to be too expensive and not even have Creative Writing programs. So I am now looking at UHD. I have an entire plan set up:


Plan:  1. work through BA at UHD
           2. Do intern thing while there.
           3. Teach with Ami whole time for experience.
           4. Graduate (maybe Spring 2015 if I need 4 years, maybe earlier) and apply to Texas Teachers
           5. Will get some kind of job to further experience (can keep teaching with Ami?)
           6.  Get teaching job with Texas Teachers in high schools after graduate and work on Masters.
           7. Graduate with Masters from HUD and teach!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Finally…..

There it was. Finally. But then dad looks up UHM. It has Creative Writing programs, not just English. UHD did only have English, which is why I chose it. Crazy? Yes! Because I thought my parents would want me to go into English and creative writing later. Dad would hate it if I went in to school for such a useless "freak-art-person" degree. That, and I thought I read that the Creative Writing was a specialty for only graduates. For some reason, my logic was wrong. Dad then says to go to UHM. After we look at the web site for a few minutes and I try to tell him information, he says stuff like, "Oh, you don't know anything" and "how do you know?" when I have spent all afternoon looking at the site. Granted, I did miss that UHM's Creative Writing program wasn't JUST for graduates. Then, we're looking at the campus map and dad wants to know what the school is next to. He said, "Can I zoom out and see it?" to which I replied, "No, it's a campus map, you can't do that." He then zooms IN to a portion of the map. "No one wonder your people call you a know-it-all, you talk about things you don't know," he says, focusing on the map.
'My people' referring to some of my missions who call my stupid and say I'm a know-it-all because I know a few things they don't. But that stung. Really bad. I cannot explain how badly it hurt because I have complained and ranted enough about these people for you to understand. I apologize. It happens all the time though. I hate it and it makes me hate them. Now I hated my dad for saying it to me. It took all of my amazing  self-control (something I only possess on occasion) to stay where I was, not punch him and run out the door. I wanted to leave then. And not come back. After ten minutes, I had to leave the room at least. I was so hurt. I went upstairs to my room and cleaned it to relieve my anger a bit. I came back down and dad and I finished looking at UHM's web site. I'll probably go there now. 
But I am still so hurt. For more reasons than this. I need to journal more so you know. You are in the dark and see me as a whining bitch right now. But I'm not. 
For months now I've been felling non-existent. I go through life without people seeing me. Hearing me or thinking of me. I don't exist. I am not loved. I never hang out with people. But how I long to right now. I hate people and I love being alone, but it is also my biggest fear...and it's coming true. I watch movies with couples in it and I know how they survive the adventures and trials of the movie: They have each other. That is, seriously, all it takes. If I had someone in my life who loved me, listened to me, knew that I was breathing, would touch me...life would be easier. Traveling through life this alone is difficult. I could not imagine before and now I cannot imagine it the other way around. I cry almost every night for being so alone. 
I watched the 90s version of "A Little Princess" last night and it really came apart for me (kind of like when I watched the lantern scene in "Tangled". Did I tell you about that?) Sarah shouted to Ms. Mintion, "All girls are princesses. Didn't your father ever tell you that? Didn't he?"
The answer is: No. He did not. My family has this phobia of being intimate and close to one another. They think it's awkward and so they avoid it. Entirely. I think that's why my sister and I fight so much. Why my dad does not show love for me like I need him to. Why my mother feels like she needs to be a in a war with me. I didn't understand it until a month or so ago. My family hates that kind of thing. But it is obvious we all need it. My family is falling apart. Spiritually, financially, and in all other ways. As for me, I feel like I'm not even alive. I do not exist in this world. Maybe that's why I am so unmotivated. You scoffed and laughed as you read that, I heard it. You think I'm wrong. But you are not here and that is why you do not understand. 
I am alone and I hate it. I long for someone in my life. I am so sad during the day (yes, the entire day) that my physical heart actually hurts. I have an ache in my chest that I cannot heal or stop.
Well, that's enough for one night. I need to make a daily or weekly thing out of writing. I know you don't believe me, but I don't have much time for it. I'll make time though. And I need to make more time for my time with The All Father. I think that's part of my problem. But just a part. I think though, that once I find His love, I will find earthly love. But I don't feel like I can romance Him right now. How does dead heart beat again?

Friday, April 15, 2011

Chapter 23: Celestial Gift

I went for a walk this morning since I was feeling particularly stiff and fat, and got a wonderful gift from the All Father.
The morning had started out dull and normal. Which I cannot stand. I was not happy, but I was inches away from being bored to madness. I was also feeling like I was being lazy and not using my time wisely, which I also cannot stand. So I thought I should go for a walk. I grabbed Dorian (my iPod) and headed out into the wonderful, non-humid Texas air. I walked around one lake, through the park and on to the second lake. "Phantom of the Opera" was sweetly singing in my ears as I walked along.
POTO is something special to me. I've always loved it for many reasons, but there is one song in it that I dedicated to me and the Father during a dark time in my life...to put it simply. That song is "All I Ask of You". Wonderful song with amazing lyrics. That is our song, but I have not thought of it or Us in a very long time.
I get to the second lake and the song comes on. I still do not notice. I am out in he beautiful weather that He created, listening to the song I dedicated to Us and I do nothing. I don't see or hear the wonder. Then, as I reach  the center of the bridge over the lake I see my special Celestial Gift. Two, perfectly white swans gliding on he lake, side by side like you would see in a Disney movie. I smile at them and think "How marvelous!" Then it hits me as the chorus of the song soars with new beauty in the shining morning sun. Without even hearing the music, the swans are gliding to it. Perfect rhythm and movements. I stop then and watch as He presents His gift to me.

I stared for what felt like hours, slowly following the swans around the lake, getting close then falling back. The two moved in unison with the song they could not hear until it was over, then they drifted out of sight, under the bridge where I first saw them. I was struck speechless.
I went home feeling a little more loved. I was told to try and romance the Father to get closer to Him recently. I want to do that, but I am human after all and I fail. I forget. I get too lazy. So He took the initiative and wooed me one more time. I love being wooed, but I need to do it for Him too.

Speaking of wooing, on a human scale, I found the key to my heart. I know how any man could woo me and win me over. It's like magic. I felt it happen and my heart nearly burst. I cannot tell you what it is, because then there would be no mystery! But let me say this, when you find the key to your heart, you know it. And you look for it. I am so happy I found it. The funny part about it, is that it has been a huge part of my life since before I can remember. Maybe that is why? I don't know. I just know there is something magical about the dance. The music. The story. The soul of it. I cannot wait to be wooed by a mortal man in this way.
I hope this has been a more happy post than usual. I need to write brighter poetry too, I was told. I'll try. Until then, blessings and safe journeys!

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Chapter 22: A month later...

I'm not writing tonight to talk deeply about some earth shattering thing I've learned. That's what I always wanted this blog to be about though. I wanted it to be something deep and profound every time I wrote. But you have to agree, that would get exhausting! Like a four hour action flick or something. And then there is something else about this blog. I'll admit right now that I got the idea to even start a blog after watching the "July/Julia" movie. I always hated the internet and all the new ways people had created for humans to pretend that they were interested in each other's lives. And for the record, I'm pretty sure Xanga was the first blog.
So I started this blog with this thought: I will write it while on my journey through life, publishing, college and anything else life throws my way and then it will be a memoir! How ridiculous of me. How could I think that I could sit down and write out my thoughts (which will happen more often now, and I'll explain in a moment) and expect them to be publishable material? That's so vane and so self-centered of me. I need to write this for other people. Yes, it is a place for me to talk about MY thoughts, but it is for other people to read. "I want to turn this into an autobiography" is also a stupid idea. I have not lived enough life to do that. This blog is life as it comes. so many times, though, I have wished that I could make it my autobiography. I want to write one because I think that I have something to tell the world. That's why I'm a writer. I have ideas and things to say, but to want to get stuff out now is silly. I am still learning. I know that man deals a fake thing called time and draws all conclusions from how much of that fake object you spent on earth, but life experience matters to me more. I know some people my age have had a lot more, or more correctly, different experiences than me, but does that qualify them to write out a bible of their lives? Perhaps I am being to harsh? I, personally, do not think so.
My favorite quote is this, "How vane it is to sit down and write, when you have not stood up to live"...This means more than how long you have been alive and what experiences you have had. Yes, it even means more than that. It means what have you learned from those trials, those times? Write those down, but DO NOT take that writing as the end-all of your work OR of your life lessons. You may go on to write something that completely contradicts that which you wrote in your earlier days.

Alright, I will get off my soap box now and say this: I will be writing on here more like a journal now. I will try to keep things polished and slightly edited but I prefer this writing to be in it's purest, yet readable, form. I can edit and I can proof-read, but not a lot of it will happen for this page. So, no longer will the posts be these once-in-a-while "deep" posts about "what I've learned". They will be about "my day" and the people in my life. I debated with the idea of mentioning my coworkers in this blog as I will no doubt say the things on here I desperately wish I could say to their faces. I will call them all my "missions" (a reference to one of my pastors sermons) and my work place the "field". Why, you ask? Because they are th missions that the All Father has put into my life on the field of battle. So that being said, I will see you all soon. Blessed journeys!