revenge in a lighter sense.

"I have walked down this road before. I have seen this tree and this grain of sand. I have smelt this air and touched this leaf; I have crossed this path; I have feared that and cut this part out. I have played this and moved, maybe."
Your fear. Plopping down into the things that were. Sinking into what was. Being trapped in yourself, again. What if it happens again? Who will be there this time around? You have found out who will leave during the bad. You have seen who will give up on you. You know who backs out when things get rough. You know who will not even hold your hand as a friend when you know you need it the most. What if... what if... we all know. You can hold on to two. Two. Two. Two? Can you be sure? You thought, you were sure you could hold on to one. That one is gone and will stay gone. Never to return, for the best and the one is not welcome, ever. But, how can two hold you up? Two who do not know of the other. Two who hold different aspects of your life; two who connect to different things; two who mean so much, just as the one. Two?
What about those minds that will never open? What about the hurt that those doors cause? They are doors, not walls. Walls cannot be opened and were never opened. Doors, however, at one point in time were open and could be walked through, but now they are locked.
Did you ever have a toy that you really really, absolutely desired when you were a child? You wanted it incredibly, terribly bad. You would ask your parents for it every chance you would get. You would think about it when you waited to fall asleep. But, once you received that toy, once you actually got your hands on it and you were able to play with it you found out it is not what you wanted. You fell in love with the idea of the toy, but the toy itself was a let down. Has this happened to you?
Do you smell the lavender? Do you see the purple? Can you touch the greenery?
Do you know the bee? Can you talk with the wind? Do you hear my whisper?

you.

Tonight, I smoked a cigarette
and you came screaming back.
Waves of tastes and smells found a way to reconnect,
and the smoke danced itself into the sky.

The night told me what to say
and, yes, I knew the answer anyway.
My head told my heart what to do,
and the smoke danced itself into the sky.

You found a way in, and I out.
And yes it is true--I know what to do.
A sense of self has returned and
I have quit you.

The pieces seemed to have gone awry
but the puff put them in their place.
A deep breath and a tingle of the lips,
and the smoked danced itself into the sky.


This is a little thing I wrote tonight at work. There is no real face behind it; it is mostly a modge-podge of people/ideas/feelings. This summer has been wonderful, and yes, I do realize I am using the past tense form of the verb, but in my book summer is nearly over. One of my best friends is making the travel back to college this Saturday and that usually is a landmark in my summer. I am ready for school. I am ready for new pencils, clean notebooks, nervous freshmen, familiar faces, and late nights. I am excited for new roommates, social work classes, familiar giggles, hugs, tears, and Wednesday night talks. I will miss sisters day, after work calls to you, my bed, sleeping in, comforts of home, and my job.
I have many projects in mid... mid... in mid.
This summer has been a peach, and no, not in the quirky somewhat cutesy word way. This summer has been the actual fruit. No need for explanation. You know you get it. You are the one I love. You will always be and have always been there. No need for words, our eyes can talk to each other.
Who knew what a cigarette could do.

glass jars and fireflies

At what age do things start to get complicated? When is life no longer about waking up and playing all day until bed? When do our jobs and money start taking over? As we continue to add numbers onto our age does life continue to get more complicated? As a child do we simply accept things the way they are and live contently? Yes, as a human of a younger age we do seem to ask "why" and "how" frequently, but these questions are out of pure curiosity. Do we lose our curiosity, and if so, when?
I do not want to be an "old" woman and live my life routinely. Yes, I do love routines and I love order, but I do not want to do the same thing day after day. I want excitement; I want passion; I desire desire. Doesn't everyone?
Some people are quite content doing the same things throughout their life. That is the beauty in life; we are all built differently and we all find happiness in different ways of life.
I am looking forward to being an 'adult' (whatever that word means). I am excited to have a job. However, I want to live like a child. This does not mean that I want to sleep in and play all day without a care in the world; however, I want to keep my curiosity. I do not want to feel weighed down by life. I want to look back and say "I would not change a thing."
As of now, I can say that. I do not believe in regret. Yes, if some things in my life were different it might have been a bit easier and a few tears less, but I would not be where I am standing now if those things had not happened and those tears had not been shed.
Lately, a memory has been hitched to my back.
**We all ran to my grandma and grandpa as they passed out different sized glass canning jars. The five grandchildren, wide-eyed and hopeful, reached out their arms waiting for the magic catchers to hit their finger tips. Once we each had our own jar we ran outside as fast as our legs would carry us. The farm was huge, but all of us always stayed in the same area of the yard. "I see one!!! I see one!!!!" Five little girls ran around the yard trying to catch the little bits of magic flying through the air. We would never go back inside until all five jars held at least one flickering bug. The five of us stumbled upstairs into our little bedroom and lined our jars on the windowsill. We snuggled into our sheets and watched the magnificent flickers of light until our eyelids grew too heavy. When we awoke we would go out into the yard and release the magic bugs and a wish.**
If I could go back to this point in time I would. I cannot imagine how beautiful it must have been for our parents and grandparents to watch their children, nieces, and grandchildren run around the yard with little glass jars in hopes of catching a firefly.

a teal painted room

Yes. I am still alive and breathing. Breathing and smiling.

I haven't forgotten about blogging. I actually have tried starting a new post but I never know how to write what I want to say. To be honest, whenever I work a midnight or have at least five minutes to sit and relax blogging comes to mind.

I think I have started about 27 different blogs since the beginning of this summer and I have not completed one of them. Each one starts out somewhat the same and then they all take drastic turns. The subjects vary from working-to my summer so far-to defining myself-to waiting for life to happen-to questions about my being-to questions about the way in which I think-to my love of my friends from home-to singing RENT songs in his car-to relearning who I am and who I want to grow into.

That said, I honestly do not know where this blog is going to end up. It is hard describing my summer to those who have never been to my home town or met my best friend(s).

Therefore, this will be a hometown-neutral blog.

Happiness has found its way back. Or, I have found my way to happiness? I am sitting on my bed, half in pj's and half in the outfit I wore to work today, teeth brushed, make-up still on, mosquito bites all over my legs and ankles and completely content. Content is actually the wrong word. Utterly excited and enthused about life.
I am working on building a canvas for my painting. Yes, I could go to Wal-Mart and buy 3 white boards for 2 dollars or I could spend a bit more time cutting and nailing the wood together and stretching the sheet over the newly built frame. I think I will go with the latter.
Nothing is holding me back. I can go anywhere and do anything I want. (Yes, money may be a factor but I am working (pun) on that). Whenever I drive to or from work, the independent woman role takes over me. (take from that what you will) :)

I guess my struggle with knowing what exactly to type within this "new post" is merely the awe I have.
Eh, here's to best friends, talks over a bonfire, road trips up the north shore, working/caring for people who have worked their way into your heart, getting napkin notes on your car at work, sister days, hugs goodnight knowing you will see them tomorrow, needed conversations, independence, confidence, love, life, parents, and you.

PS-Making muffins and playing Scrabble are perfect things to do on a late date night.

Love you all,
(Will write frequently)
Renae