A Poem

I wrote this about the man I love and do not wish to post it on something so public as my facebook. But I want it up and I want it read. Please enjoy it's melancholy lines.

Words written in red living ink never fade,
Never forgotten.
Feelings that creep in are paralyzing and dark,
They are fatal.
Sitting so far away and watching the live ones,
I see them move.
I wait and watch, too much time on my hands,
Mind going insane.
All I can do is lay down and wish that were me,
Living with others.
Seeing them glow and play I scream to go too,
But my place is here.
I cannot leave, must only watch, be the one
The gods cursed.
The worst torture is him, the one I love with fire,
He is free to live.
But he is mine, I want him all for myself and short nights,
Of sweet words.
He comes to my window and whispers in my ear,
But that is all.
No touch does he give, no caress of love does he offer,
He is there but gone.
With promises of love and rescue on his lips he goes,
Into the world.
By his side a woman I do not know, but no affection,
Still I have to wonder.
What happened to the promises of loyalty and love?
He has forgotten me.
I watch them go, he waved again at me telling with his eyes,
He will be back for me.
My foolish heart aches as I scream and wale at the moon,
Days passing in grief.
Then when the sun rises, I see him there on the hill,
He comes to me.
He says sweet words and give promises of love,
He loves not the other woman.
Again he leaves, only this time with his band of men,
And promises me love.
I wait again for days and nights, wringing my hands,
I want my love.
In the dark of the night and by the light of the moon,
He comes.
Words of love, vows of loyalty and once again,
He is gone.
Alas, foolish heart cannot let him go, hope stays,
In this heart and so I wait day, by day, by day.

Chapter 12: Falling Up

Life goes on, as the saying goes and I know this very well now. Not that my life is horrible right now because it’s not. Far from it. I just have things on my mind. Things that are always on my mind with intense pressure.
What about this guy that I like? It’s not just ‘like’ any more. But my parents know nothing of it. They know I know the guy and that I worked with him for a year. They know so little. I think maybe that’s why they don’t trust me. I have done nothing to lose their trust, but they do not know me and I think that is why they do not trust me. So they will not trust me about guys either. But what do I know about this guy? Nearly everything except one thing that I have to know: What is his relationship with God? I asked him last night if he ever prayed and he said yes. In a note to me earlier he said he knows God has a plan. It sounds like he trusts God, but how far does that have an impact on his life? I need a man who will push me to love God and support me when I say “it’s a God thing”. I need a man to lead me in our relationship with God.
I want to talk to him about all off this, but I want to wait and do it until we are face to face, which may be a while because he lives back in Kansas. And I am here in Texas. Far, far away.
After the conversation we had last night, I am sure he loves me and I love him. We just haven’t said it yet. We have said everything you can say without using those three words though. He asked me out on a date. Yes, while we are hundreds of miles apart, he asked me on a date. I said, yes, but that I had to tell my parents. I’m hoping (though I know it will never happen) that they will say, “well, have him talk to us and then we’ll see” because I know he can do it. But what is really going to happen is this:
MOM: Who is he?
ME: A guy I worked with at the writing center.
MOM: Is he a Christian?
ME: He was raised catholic, but we’ve talked about God a little. I want to more when we see each other.
MOM: No way! Are you stupid? Your father is going to kill you!
And that’s when I die…

I am going to pray like mad about it! I want this to work out. More than anything, I want this to work out. I feel as though God has set this up for me. I don’t know why, but I do. So there are my concerns and fears. My hope is that he and I see each other and can get to talk and know each other better. That’s what dating is, right? You don’t date a guy because you “know” he is “the one”. You cannot possibly know that. So that’s what I want to do. All my brothers did. And I will too. I want to do something based on my own decision. Because of all this emotion, I’m falling apart little by little. But with God and him in the mix, I’m elevated and flying to the heights. I’m falling up…

Chapter 11: A Long Expected Disapointment

I’m sorry this is not the long, catch-up chapter I promised, but it’s what’s on my mind and that’s what matters.
My journey to womanhood continues to not be what I expected or wanted. Just now, my mother called me immature and said I needed to grow up. This came about because I was upset about not being able to play Xbox live with my best guy friends. The kids have always hogged the xbox and made it near impossible for me to ever got on and play. I have yet to play with my friends and I wanted to tomorrow at 2 when they are both off work. That’s the problem is that we have to coordinate schedules.
I told the children that at 2 pm tomorrow I was going to get on and play with my friends. They explode into “you can’t do that” and “ you can’t just take over” and other various yellings.
I got mildly angry at them, shouted just once then left it alone. I went to talk to mom about it and got hardly emotional. I am trying to be honest here. She gets angry at me for that and says I need to grow up…and stop trying to be a “big person around here.” Oh, my dear mother! Is that not a contradiction?
She is impossible to live with. She wants me to be one thing, so long as she can still squish me underneath her. I am not allowed to really be what she wants. Because in reality, what she wants is for me to be submissive, quiet and obedient.
I’m sorry, but that is not going to happen.
I will not go quietly.
I will not be trod upon.
I am a woman.
I will be 21 years old in less than 5 months and I will then be an adult. I have to make money to get out of this house, with respect. I do not want to run, I want to leave in silence and be gone. Only then, when I am free from “her house” as she constantly reminds me, will I be a woman. So this blog is not how I thought it would be. It is still my journey to woman hood and I plan on writing more often now. Maybe even another entry today. I am still on my journey, I just now see where it may end. Obviously, my belief is that one never stops growing and learning, but to be the first level of woman is to be free. Be independent. Not stupid and crazy and superficial…independent. Free to make the right choices.
This will be all for now. Thank you if you have been reading I will write more now that I am backon my path.

Chapter 10: Late and moving on

This will be short, and I am sorry for the long laps. If I had any readers they have long ago died of old age, no doubt. I'm sorry.
We are moving to Texas in a few days...more like two weeks. I will be workong on a mast post while at home (no internet there) to post in a series to catch you all up. It will be long, depsressing and angry no doubt as well. For a time I lost sight of my gaol: To become a beautiful strong woman, but then I thought about how long it's been since I updated this and that caught me back onto my journey. I am about to take another journey over space and earth now and I look forward to that. I am changed more now than I was even two months ago and I cannot wait to share it. Yes, the typos and grammer in this post are horrid, but that's because I have a only a few moments within to comunicate this.
So I am much changed and I will write all about it over the next few days as journal entries and then share them with you. I have so much to say, so much has happened. Please pray for me and my travels and my kumpania as I go about my journeis. Thank you!

Chapter 9: Going to High School and Finding Clothes

I may not have mentioned it, but I was home schooled all my life. Just so you know, not all homeschoolers are those strange hokey people who you make fun of. We make fun of the stereotypical public schooler as well. And now that I am enrolled in a teaching class, I have to go to a high school and observe and take notes on specific things and write out journals on our assigned subject to observe.
This sounded fun and easy at first, but then I realized that my schedule was insane and messy! I was so used to having a neat and orderly schedule, but with the move coming up, I thought I should only take three classes and they could be whenever because I would drop them. WRONG!! We are not moving until May. We found a house in an adorable neighborhood and I am trying not to let the feelings form the last chapter seep into this one. So let’s blow that away.
Alright. So I have one class at 8 o’clock then two hours break before my next class (which is when I write these lovely entries that no one reads). Then after my insane sociology class (yes, you know the one) I have work or nothing till my Acting II class. Tuesdays and Thursdays I work from 11 to 5. I am swamped and scattered! So How was I to find the time to drive to a high school and observe. It may seem obvious to you, but know that the teachers are not available at all times I have breaks. They have planning periods and one of my Music teachers is only available in the afternoons!
But O’Dell gave me patients and the cool head to figure it out and I have! I just hope now that my professor doesn’t get on my case because I’m seeing three teachers at once.

On the next subject, I told my parents about wanting to change out my wardrobe. I have nothing but black t-shirts and Tripp pants in my draws. There is nothing wrong with that, but I want a change now to go with my change in life (my journey to being a lady). So I want a more bohemian and hippie look. Yes, a more gypsy look. More Urban. When I told my mom, “I want to change my wardrobe out,” she said, “Ok, that sounds interesting.”
“Yeah, but I’ll have to make most of the cloths I want.”
She stopped and just stared ahead (we were driving home from Texas). “What do you mean? You know you need to relax with this stuff and try to remember that you need to look classy as well as stylish.”
Here is where I went into a speech about what stylish meant to me and she didn’t understand. She thought that I was going to make all my cloths belly dancing costumes!! She thought I was silly enough to want to do that! Oh, the mind of mothers! I told her I want to look stylish and classy, but not mainstream stylish; not TRENDY. Once I explained to her that I was not going to walk around school with hip scarves and jungle belts on, she relaxed a little more.

Honestly…Belly dancing is my life and the ways of the Rom are important to me, but I cannot spoil the mystique of those cloths by wearing them every day. I have to come up with my own fashion and make it work in the colors and designs I like.
So this step is: trying to get nicer, classier cloths and let go of the teenage punk phase. Not my Gothic subculture and lifestyle, never that! But to present myself to the world as a serious person. I love my gothness and the scene. But I also love my tribal/urban ideas. So that is this step too: Balance the two and make it work!!

Chapter 8: Whirlpool of Insanity

My life is once again spinning out of control. And yet in the midst of it all, I am trying to remain the lady that I want to be; but more and more I see myself slipping and becoming just another hateful older sister/first daughter.
I try to please my parents and keep failing. We went to look at colleges today (since we are spending out Spring Break in Texas) and it was a disaster. The school was closed and somehow that was my fault. My father told me that I should have looked at the website to see if it was open. I had checked previously and it all it had was “hours of operation”. My mother also took the opportunity to tell me that I need a plan for school. So I told her about my plan. The one I had before we were moving Texas. Somewhere during this talk, she let slip that she “always has to be there to help me” and other things were said that implied I was a stupid girl.
On this note, my younger sister treated me like an ill-educated person as well. She thinks she knows everything about bodily functions and health and what is good for you and how much exercise you have. She was complaining of blotation (which she does frequently) and saying how she has not been able to relieve herself in days.
She never eats protein.
I looked it up and saw that you have to balance your protein intake with your fiber intake and liquid or you will get constipated. This is what has happened to her. She never eats much protein because she thinks it will make her fat. I told her (before she told me she had not been able to go in days) that she was not constipated. She always says she is constipated. And that is when she went on and on about how I don’t know what constipation is. Which I do.
I did not want to you this blog as a place to complain, but that is all I have to write about at this time. Against my will we went on this Texas trip. I would have much rather stayed at home and danced (which I have not done in WEEKS) or rented movies or drawn or any other manner of things.
On that note, I have no worked out (the little that I do…) in weeks also. Since before I got streph throat. My work out consists of 30 crunches and 30 to 40 leg lifts to strengthen my lower abs. Then I do (sometimes, if I have time) sideways leg lifts for my hips (got to have strong hips for those movements!) and then stretching and sometimes pelvic thrust while lying on my back. That is my work out. I try and do it every night since it is SO LIGHT. I shall do it once more when we get back to Kansas. And school. Actually, I do not think that I have done my work out since the semester started. That’s bad! Especially for a 5’ 4” girl who weighs 140 pounds! But I cannot lose too much weight or I will lose my belly dancer shape which I treasure. It is the shape of a woman.
I am not going to sugar coat it anymore. I hate the skinny girls. Not because they are skinny and I am not, but because I pity them. They have a distorted point of view. It is unhealthy. They are desecrating the temple that is their body. It’s not good for the soul or spirit or the girl.
Very well, I shall leave off here and be back next time with a more light-hearted time and more about dance and the life of a lady. Or the life of becoming a lady. That’s what this is: My times and Trials on the Quest to Womanhood!

Chapter Seven: Is a New Path Ever Needed?

I have to wonder about my life right now. We’re still in the midst of moving to Texas and I am still going to school. Work is piling up with homework, observations (have to be done for my teaching class), scholarship duties, class, and work. Mostly it’s the observations that are scaring me the most. I can’t get a hold of my teachers to organize meetings so I’m falling behind in handing in homework, which is not ok with me. I need to email my teacher and tell her that. I hate being behind.
Life at home is fine. Mostly because I’m never at home. I’m school from sun up to sun down every day save Saturday and Sunday and those days go by too fast. At least this Friday I’m getting a small break (after all the work is done of course). Elhira and I are going to see the new “Alice” movie by Tim Burton. I know he will do a fabulous job on the movie. Some people say he ruins kids books like that (Charlie and the Chocolate Factory) but really, if people had read those books, they would see that he actually does a very good job. Those books are disturbing…and awesome!!
So trying to maintain my lady-like behavior and my belly dancer grace in the midst of all of this is insane. I did my hair in tons of tiny braids and braided in yarn and various charms here and there to give myself a “tribal” look and feel. And it has done wonders for me. I feel better and prettier and like I have something to show the world. I also bought Almond oil and alovera (spelling!?) for my skin and already my thighs and buttocks feel better. I have the worlds nappiest bumps and what not on my fore arms and other said places and this skin treatment is so good. I recommend it. Just apply the oil and alo to the places you have thirsty skin and within a week or two (always after a shower!) you should see results. I put the oil in my hair sometimes too because I have dry poofy hair.
Alright, enough lady-talk! I just felt the need to update since I have not in the longest time and being a lady is a 24/hour chore. Thanks for reading. I promise to write far more interesting things later!!!