i LONG to return to write so badly to this page- but actual responsibilities cloud my vision and I am forced to stay my imagination for the time being and keep my stories to myself...how horrible it must be for those who keep theirs stories to themselves all the time- surely they feel trapped by their life that is shared with none other. It's not necessary to broadcast your affairs but when you can find someone that you can share your heart with I think you should give it wholeheartedly and see what they give you in return. Be ready to accept gifts of insight that you could never have imagined yourself..
The monster I face today isn't a demon, I do actually get to write, but he is NOT my friend and our relationship will remain at this stagnant level until Wednesday when I get to breathe for a season and perhaps sit down here again and let my imagination take flight...

Rain

The rain is pouring down outside the window of my classroom in sheets. It's a beautiful sight… everyone's footsteps can be heard from the end of the hall squishing their way towards the door. The sound of the rain dropping outside the window sounds exactly like coffee percolating, and I became so excited when I walked through the door thinking some angel had brought us coffee on this oh so rainy of days! But as I frantically looked around and attempted to locate the saving lifeblood, I realized that it was only the sound of the rain hitting the drain pipe. Outside, inches of rain washed over my flip-flop clad feet as I made my way up the hills on my way to class. This is why I'm glad I didn't wear jeans, I thought. They would have been wet and sticking to my legs all day…instead my skirt will dry rather rapidly- already the spots are fading. And the rain caresses my bare legs and I forget about the heavy burden on my shoulder...

Refocused

Today I am refocused. Perhaps it's the coffee in my system, but it's a Monday so it's likely that a force more powerful than that is needed and at work. It began as any other unlucky Monday- I woke up and made breakfast for myself and my little brother, who continues to remind me that his 12th birthday is tomorrow and what he would like for breakfast then. I prefer to wake early because the morning, he is not my friend so I need extra time each day to laze about and get to know him all over again. I made my coffee and my lunch and a snack and a water bottle…at any given time I'm walking around with enough food and water in my bag to feed a small army. And then the problems began. My gas take was screaming to be refueled, and on the mile-long trip to the closest gas station, I managed to spill my coffee on the leather seat of my car and on my bag. Quite an accomplishment for such a short trip. So I arrived at the gas station, sold a kidney for just enough gas money to half-way fill my tank, and cleaned my small mess. No sooner had I pulled out of the station and gotten a little ways up the road then I realized I'd spilled coffee on my white shirt- twice! As I pulled onto the interstate, I fumed at the thought that I would have to wait for a while until I could fix it and by that time surely the coffee would turn into a stain. As I became increasingly angrier at my one ally in turning on me during my time of greatest vulnerability, I thought that possibly I could pour my water on my shirt and thereby keep the coffee from drying in and creating stains. So as I swerved across several lanes trying to save my shirt while in turn endangering my life, I imagined how humorous (in hindsight) it would be if a cop was unlucky enough to pull me over on this morning. Surely my temper would get the best of me and that would never end well. But as I settled in a single lane (and could almost hear the collective sigh of relief from the cars following mine) I began to feel better about this day…maybe it was the coffee rushing through my veins and curing the inner wounds of a Monday like a healing balm. But I think it was more than that- only God could salvage my mood on this day. The thing that began to turn my mood was that I began to imagine writing about these events, and immediately my day turned around. It was then that I realized how much of a relief it is to me to write…how calm I feel just when I plan to write- not to mention when I sit down to actually do it. As I'm writing now in my politics class, the guy who afflicts me with his endless comments isn't even such a bother when I write. It changed my whole mood around so much so that I had an extra bounce in my step when I put in my iPod (and decided it's time for a new one) and walked to my class. However I do tend to get lost in my own little world, and in the midst of the crowd I noticed the sweet taste of coffee lingering on my lips and without thinking began licking them slowly to enjoy what little was left of my pleasurable morning…only to notice a guy staring at me with a funny look on his face…and I realized I had been walking towards him and licking my lips seductively while not even realizing what I was doing. Such is life.

So I have a million things I could be doing, not the least of which would be preparing for another visit from the exam demon on Monday, but instead I choose to blog. I sit in my room full of boxes and clothes and random pieces of my life scattered about, draped on a Foosball table, a workout machine, and my antique bed frame with it's high ends. Dirty laundry is struggling to escape the confines of the white basket I've trapped it in. I of course will wake up in the morning and berate myself for not doing the laundry for I will have "nothing to wear"...at which point lightening will strike me for such a lie on a Sunday. I'm recovering from an enraging message from the institution where all my money goes, and suddenly I feel so small. I feel like a tiny, helpless frog looking up at a giant cyclist coming my way and being at the mercy of whichever way he turns his wheel. Who put this much power in the heads of a school and why are there so few lawful ways to fight the powers that be? But what can I do? It doesn't seem fair, but for my whole life my mother has drilled into my head the fact that life is indeed, not fair. So what can we do, the little frogs at the mercy of the cyclist? Should we form a union and defeat this monster that hands down judgment? Or should we accept these lessons as ways of learning, for future reference, how to deal with the Cyclists? Either way I'm highly angry. But who do you call when the reason for your anger is the one you did choose to call? What if your faith in the institution to do the right thing was useless? When I put my faith in something and it falls through, it's the end. There are no second chances for that kind of thing. So, contemplating all this, I stare at my laundry basket and my boxes and decide that I won't let this one thing ruin my whole day. I will be productive still, and if the powers-that-be have a problem with it, well THEN I will fight them.

It's raining again. Today, I tried my best to outsmart the rain. Not because I hate being rained on, because I actually don't. I quite enjoy it. I ran to protect my precious laptop because the zipper on my bag no longer functions as it should- or at all. So in order to protect my laptop I decided to spring (or at least MY version of a sprint which most likely doesn't match up with the general population's) across a clearing to a patch of trees, from which point I would be able to finish the seemingly endless journey under the protection of the leaves, which bore the brunt of the rain on my behalf. So as I began my sprint across the open grass towards the shelter of the trees and then my car, the rain came down harder. The moment I reached the shelter of the all-protective trees, the rain stopped. So I waited for a moment to be sure it wasn't a trick and the rain wouldn't restart just as soon as I left the watchful eye of the trees...and I scampered across the street to my waiting car, which, regardless of the pleasant temperature outside, was hot and stuffy. Not the most welcoming of situations after a long day at work and school. But such is life, I suppose. Obviously, my laptop is none the worse for wear, and neither am I. Except, perhaps, for the fact that I missed an opportunity to enjoy the rain without having to worry about my possessions. This is why they say that you shouldn't wrap your time and money up in possessions. So, someday soon, the weather owes me a pleasant shower when I have nothing to worry about! As I drove home contemplating the irony of the rain bullying me as it did, I grew sick of the music I've been listening to for days on end. Suddenly all I care to listen to is the really good stuff. The music you find in coffee shops and obscure places and latch onto because it makes you feel alive or at home or in love...or any other slew of emotions that comes to your mind when you find that music that truly hits home. Me, I love Dave Matthews Band and Dashboard Confessional...but more than that I cherish a playlist that was made for me and my cohorts during our senior year of high school by the one woman (other than my mother) who was most influential in my young life. It's an eclectic mix of music that lifts my spirits like no other. I feel at peace when I listen to it and at this time in my life when I seem to be in a state of frustration quite often, it's exactly the medicine I need.
But the real world hits, and as it turns out I can't actually blog all night long because the exam demon will strike again at approximately 11:30 am tomorrow, and I have precious few hours to prepare to defend myself upon his arrival...