Right now I'm listening to some Sufjan Stevens.

Sometimes I write poems that don't match my feelings
but there are worse things


Joy is a subtle thing
it slips by, unnoticed
like a middle name
skipped over
for easier
understood words

happy, content, adequate

we are astounded by
the sheer volume of joy
how small and how large
joy at the blush in someone's cheeks
and in the sound of their heartbeat
joy flowing through veins
landing like snowflakes in your mouth

we fear joy, yes, fear
because we don't know how to express it
no smile big enough
no hug warm enough
no twinkle in the eye, no spring in the step
capable of describing
joy. and now.

My life travels through cycles.
For a while I'm calculating, cynical
and then my mind wanders
and I write poetry and read novels
though I never read romances.
Take that that how you will.
But I think my mind has returned to the latter phase
and that's left me to do some musing

about ideas
and words
and their importance

and I realized.
I used to think inaction was cowardly
but instead it can be the exact opposite
at times, doing nothing is the hardest thing I ever encounter
closing my eyes and letting out a sigh
replacing the serenity I momentarily lost

I hate being angry
and I hate when my hormones have more control over my actions
than I do.



The pros and cons of a whimsical mindset:

everything is so engaging to open eyes
and carefully calculated composure is lost

I do some of my best thinking while I'm driving by myself. Tonight on my way home I thought of this; it's a little cheesy, but true:

My best day ever will be the day I lose a bet.
This may sound twisted, backwards, broken, or any number of things but "best."
But it's true, and it's true because in all of my life I've never gambled. Every decision I make comes with calculated odds. If the odds aren't in my favor, I don't play. These calculations have led me to great victories and even greater failures.

I never thought of myself as a competitive person. Perhaps this is true, or perhaps it is absolutely false and I've never allowed myself to conceive of myself as a competitive person. For example, cross country. I told myself all four years that I didn't really want to try, that I didn't care. But I recently realized that I most likely didn't try because I didn't know the odds. I didn't know whether or not I had what it takes, and I didn't want to try only to find out that I wasn't good enough.

My best day ever will be the day I lose a bet. Fall flat on my face. Fail. Because then, and only then, will I be allowed, no, forced to stand on my own two feet and prove what I am capable of. Only then will I be able to live a life free of calculations and self imposed restraints. And yes, without these restraints I will fall. Often. And then I'll stand back up and take another leap, and I'll go farther than I ever could.

I spend so much of my life stationary
my adventures go something like
"hey wanna go watch a movie?"
my entire life is spent watching others
galavanting about
doing
perhaps this is merely the plight of the youngest child
and it would all be different
if I were twelve, seven, or even three years older
I would be less of a constant
and instead an enigma
People would inquire
"what's she up to these days?"
and the answer would be endless
I want a life they'd make movies about
Perhaps not an action or a blockbuster
maybe an introspective indie film
at least that
but instead I sit down to a movie
and watch others live for me.

It reminds me of a song (I like the scrubs version best)
Waiting For My Real Life To Begin

Today it snowed
every time like the first
fat flakes hesitating in the sky
muffling the world with a
profound silence
only broken by
a shudder of the house
an ancient creak
like an ice cube
in a glass of hot water
one of the loudest silences
you will ever hear
your lungs expanding
flakes whispering against your eyelashes
and brushing your cheeks
hush.
it says
and we barely dare to breathe

A friend of mine showed this to me about a year ago.
Sorry about the swearing, it's worth it
Enjoy:
Wizard People Dear Reader

So Wonderful.