When you let go, it’s also easier to get pushed to the limit. It happened finally, I grew some “nads” called back, and said all the things that I have never said in passion. I yelled at him, cried and I made him answer me. Even if it wasn’t a cure all, because I’ve done it, I’m less frightened of him, I’ll be able to approach him like this about all the things bothering me, and he won’t be able to escape. He had never heard me this emotionally passionate about anything before, I’m sure it was a bit of a shock,

In other news, I keep having strange and intensely detailed dreams. All of them follow the same sort of tone, and seem unusually realistic. Last night I started out at James extended families house, none of the people actually existed. But these imaginary uncles and cousins were watching football, and all of them resembled James. While I was there I took a shower, and looked out the window to see it was raining. At some point I remember freeway interchanges and I knew I was traveling back to Humboldt, except everyone here came there too. In the Co-Op Parking lot, Colin of all people, drunk off his ass, came running up to me, he was babbling some non-sense…but what he said wasn’t important. I just kept screaming back to him, “Colin you’re going to embarrass yourself, stop it, stop Colin common. Sam help me, help me!” He was trying to kiss me, and I kept push his hands off my shoulders while backing up towards the wall. Behind him the sea of faces, which seemed to include every person I had ever met, were dancing, screaming, being drunk, and moving all over the place. Out of the left side, I saw Jordan coming towards us, which automatically made me panic. Cooper came too then, issuing the same sort of suggestions Colin had been, and I practically threw myself at Jordan, looking for protection, seeking comfort. I was crying heavily now, and his face was too, it was so peculiar to see his eyes red, which I had never seen in person. But this was an imaginary Jordan, not the real one, never the real one. "I'm so sorry, don't you see? Can't you see me?" I hysterically repeated. Imanginary Jordan's breathe quickened and shook, letting me know he understood, let me know he would lay everything down. He stroked the back of my head softly. I held onto him so tightly, and we snuck sideways towards a hill that had to be climbed to where Grant and I were roommates. On the way people were still following us, and instead of dead dark night, which had it had been at the Co-Op, an afternoon sun started peeking through the branches of familiar undergrowth and the canopy of redwoods above me. Wesley passed by then and I grabbed his wrist, whispering something like “Tell James, he means more to me then he will ever know…” and something else about how you only have two great loves in life, and James was definitely one. In my dream I remember pausing for a moment, thinkign about the last party I went to, where I had words with James in the middle of the kitchen at Justin's house. The way his face seemed sad, like seal eyes, but who knows if that was guilt, fear, or sympathy. A familiar crushing sensation washed over me, but I held tightly to Jordan’s hand and to Wesley’s wrist and fought through it as I have the past few months, over and over. Wesley placed his hand on my shoulder and reassuringly smiled at me. Finally we seemed to have outrun the crowd of drunks, and made it to a huge studio apartment, where Grant had been living alone for the past month, while I was away visiting Jordan in LA. “Grant, Oh my god, I missed you”, I said and hugged him. He smiled and laughed his Grant laugh. I introduced Jordan to him, and he grabbed his keys and left quite promptly. After that I drew a bath in an abnormally large bathtub, and watched Jordan slip down underneath the bubbles, just as quiet as he is in real life.

The dream ended after that. When I woke up, I was frightened by the corresponding similarities with my real life, and the symbolism of many aspects of the dream. How water seems to be some sort of cleansing ritual for me. I take showers and baths to fill up space in my mind, and wash away incoming issues, fear, and loss. How Humboldt’s light seemed to find its way into the chambers of my heart, easing it. How every time I think of James, it feel like someone is reaching between my breasts and wrenching it, so that it feels like I’m being bruised. How Olga and Anna were not in the dream, and that’s because they are me, and I am them, so they are always within me in dreams. Will it unzip and all come out? This dream happened after my break through, this dream happened on new years eve. This dream happened, the night Jenn arrived in LA. This dream happened while I slept alone in my bed. This dream happened, during an “on the move” week.
Wow.

Read more...

I'm looking at being in love with him through binoculars. Sometimes I see glimpses of the things I would easily be in love with. But I'm standing on the edge of a cliff, and he hasn't built a bridge to the other side. In fact I think I may be scared to jump on my own.
Being in LA is strange for me, I don't want to be here at all in fact. But I also don't miss the remote quiet of Humboldt. I feel like a lot of the time I look back into my past to find out when I was most happy, and those times feel so distant and gorge between that cliff and mine, is even greater then the one with him.
There are a lot of names that I remember saying, that now I know I want to keep suspended in that underestimated, under appreciated, time. The names are for those ribbons only. Will I ever develop new names? Will I ever be kissed again? I don't think so unless a ribbon is strewn between my cliff and theirs.

Read more...

If you haven't noticed, i have started posting late at night really late. Is it true that as a teenager you need to sleep 8+ hours and then when you get older it's 6+? Recently I have changed my entire sleeping schedule, pushing my bedtime back later and later. Also I've gotten into my bed filled with hot water bottles filled, piled from comforters, escaping from the cold, and started writing. Sometimes these last minute, pre-sleep thoughts end up on my blog. They're quite non-sense-ish indeed. Mostly they reflect all the negative in my life, over and over. I have yet to feel compelled to write anything not about me. It's disappointing. For a while, I had started messing around with the bigger picture, rather then just my sad little corner, but it seems I've lost it. I recently got a link to the boys blog, which I'm not sure if I should link here yet. Perhaps eventually. But it was quite inspiring. Maybe one day.

Read more...

I don't want to write all the things I have to say. I'm sick of being sad. I feel like pushing everything under the rug like it doesn't exist. I want someone to take care of me, and make everything between us better, I don't want to be the one who has to do it. I'm sick of trying to be strong and in control. I want to melt.

I feel like people have great loves in their life. There are times where you're definitely in love, but it's not great, not like another time. I feel like a lot of people go through relationships, get stuck in them, and they aren't good, not bad, just not what that person dreams of. And when you have had a glimpse of that perfect love, but it was off because of timing, thats when it hurts the most. Sometimes I feel like I know my doom, like I made a choice, and later I realize it was wrong, and that some other stuff with drag on painfully mostly because of factors beyond my control. For some reason I feel completely deserving of this fate. Also I feel like I cannot stand my ground against it, because then I would be utterly alone, in the freezing cold of my cave. But this time I'm not panicking, this time I'm not anxious, I feel like crying, but it doesn't feel like I'm going to die inside. My chest is tight yes, but its not the same as it was in November, its calmer now. I'm more submissive.

Read more...

i feel like screaming at the top of my lungs. why cant i figure this guy out? i think i get him one day, and he flips the other, but honestly its not that he is, its like hes this damn ...dammit i cant think of an analogy. its like he is what he is, and i keep thinking he is something else, or that suddenly he'll unzip and out will step who he really is. i feel like its true, you really only know 65-79% of a person...but dammit Jordan i only know 35% of... none of what i learned makes any sense in any of the situations i am presented with. but i'm not angry or depressed about it tonight, i can feel my soul starting to beat back, to shove back in his face everything he does to me, until he treats me equally.

on another note, i cut my hair today, about five inches off, its just below my shoulders and curled up on its own somehow. omg it feels so good to get rid of it, even though i loved my long hair, i need the change. i also re-ordered my glasses that i lost this summer, omg i cant wait for them

Read more...

So I've revamped the blog. Finally figured out a way around an account error that was making me crazy. Either way I've made my alias "kully" for privacies sake. However Kully has become my online name for a lot of things, so it's quite fitting, but it's still me, for those of you know who know my real name :)

Read more...

sometimes i really freaking love boys.
sometimes i get such a freaking ego, and i love riding the wave, i absolutely love it.
that melting feeling was awesome.
mmmmm mmmm yumo.
the best thing was i said no.
Oh my god what is wrong with me haha.

Read more...

sometimes i find remnants of old times and it hurts so bad, the same wrenching heart feeling, i literally notice the way my face probably grows soo unhappy. this time is was a note pad with familiar scribble on it. afterwards i go through a series of questions in my head, which really never lead me to any conclusion. eventually my mind just turns to other thoughts and it passes.

sometimes it's so hard to be patient. sometimes i want to stamp my foot and scream "pay attention to me". but that's not who i can be anymore, that is not a good person to want to be, that is a child.

a lot of days i think about what i can do, meaning what i can try, and most of the time i get discouraged from doing it because i think i'll get laughed at, or questioned. i never had that worry before.

i keep having really awful dreams. they aren't scary, they just make uncomfortable, or sad, or they make me feel so god awful lonely. the last one i had, i found myself convincing people that they should like me, and stop judging me just because i am the old one. unclear i know, but i don't feel like explaining. i woke up feeling so left out, so sad, even in my dreams i do not like being un-liked, or upset with.

even though i am coping a lot better with things, it is so freaking hard to participate in a long distance relationship, it really is.

Read more...

I had forgotten it could be so beautiful
This is why I love....this is how I love...this is what I love...this is who I love...this is where I love...I had forgotten.

Read more...

I got kind of worried today that I would be alone for the rest of my life. Meaning everyone I meet would not want to compromise or not let me compromise to their needs and eventually no matter how much you care about that person you’re torn away from them anyways. It makes me nervous. I don’t want to get hurt like that, be pulled back from that. I don’t know, maybe I want someone to just whisk me away and say okay we’re together on everything, and we’re going to do it together and I’ll do what you want and will you please do what I want, and we’ll do it for each other always. I don’t know really what I’m writing.

Sometimes I just want everyone else to go away. Sometimes I want to be the last of two people left on earth.

Sometimes I feel like my very veins are quivering with psychosis.

I’m not taking off my peace band.

I want to be home for ages, which is unusual, and I don’t think it’s entirely related to what you might think.

Read more...

I miss extremely green eyes sleepy under funny long lashes.
Finally I look at a picture and am longing so much for who is in it, in a giddy way.
I want to freeze how I felt Saturday night, the last night, and press play when I come back in three weeks.
I realize a lot now, that I didn’t see before, that all my psychosis had blocked, that AIM didn’t convey.
It feels hard to breathe only because I miss home in a different less panicked way then before.
I want to see what happens in a months worth of time, if all that happened in one weeks worth of time.
Everyday I put more confidence into proper things, and everyday I realize the less I control the more it will just happen. If I just give myself over, instead of being so damn defensive… If I just zone into the real stuff, the stuff that is hidden only because they do it differently, then I can really find some jewels.

But I am on thin ice here. Any negative pressure from outside sources, any doubts that rise up from my pool of weirdness will crack it. I'm holding onto a whisper. Help me to keep that whisper...help me to sing it at the top of my lungs...

Read more...

This is a picture from my afternoon at Camel Rock...

Read more...

The way I am able to sit down and think things through has been a little less then stable over the past few weeks. But it seems to be settling a little bit more. In the time after being cut off, when I went to Camel Rock, I thought about all the things I wanted to show and share, and never got to. That hurt me a lot, almost more then the cutting off. Being cut off, I thought was wrong on their part, so it didn’t hurt me at the time. It’s strange how certain things said mean a lot more, or hurt a lot more then just flat out saying other things. Sometimes when I think about making things all better, I get confused with who I put in that situation, and that still bothers me. But I think I only place them in my imagination cause I have only felt like that with them. But there were other things left out back there, other things I was not getting. And those things that are added now, that I’m not appreciating should be the ones I’m focusing on. I know that I don’t want to be drunk at parties, meeting random people and hooking up with them. After that I felt gross, not only because it was just too much all at once not my style, but because my turn around rate was nasty, and always is nasty, and because I was being touched by someone I wasn’t even attracted to in the first place. The guilt tore through my chest that night, and I lay there, half conscious of any of the stuff happening to me, or being sad to me. Everything that he offered, were the things I wanted to be offered to me, and I didn’t want any of it. It was lighting me up less, then the slow process I was going through on the other side. Now I wanted to do it the other way, but now I couldn’t. When I got the email, I realized then, and only then, not from the stupid text message earlier in the week, how much I actually was needed. I realized how much I meant to them. They admitted they were wrong. That said a lot. That meant a lot. Of course after that I threw up, literally. I sat down wrote about my nights shenanigans, and sat anxiously for three hours waiting a response. When I got it, I was so relieved, and my body let go literally and it felt so good. Everything I said was in my defense, but also more of an offering. I answered all the questions as truthfully as I could and as honest to my heart as I could. But there were no more promises made. Just a burning feeling in my heart that I needed to find out what I wanted, and he agreed, yet I know now he needs me, and that cannot do it with out telling him all, and sharing it with him, and maybe through that I can get over this depression. The past few nights hearing his voice, the way I got to know him in the first place, completely reminded me of a few months ago, when I was sublimely happy with my situation, and reminded me of the path I was on that was leading me towards the place I wanted to be. But now, with all that has happened. I don’t really know what will happen. I just know the things I don’t want, not really the things I do. I know what I would love to see happen, that I always imagine doing with a really important significant other, travel. But I do not know if what I want in the meantime will get me there.

Read more...

This is a letter from a short story in The Sun called Me Me Me by April Wilder.
It doesn't really matter the context in the story, but Gilda is writing to herself, as part of therapy for compartmentalizing disorder. She writes and sends letters to herself.

Dear Gilda,
Thanks for writing. Your letter came as quite a surprise! I have just gotten off the phone with your sister, who's (big shocker) got a you-know-what up her you-know-who hole. Why are still wearing that hat? Stuart is out of town, and, as always, you miss him more than you expected to. Sometimes you miss him when you're with him. What does that mean? The night before he left, you watched him sleeping. He was on his back, his hands behind his head and one leg propped up, a smile on his sleeping face, ad you thought, as you had umpteen times before, that besides you was a man complete in himself, ultimately inaccessible to you. To love a man who's whole, this is the loneliest thing.

Read more...

I am a envious, selfish, anxious, disgusting, jealous, demanding, sad, confused, weak, impatient, lonely, depressed, muddled, irrational, fragile, cracked, insecure, frightened, hopeless, worried, panicked, pathetic, ugly, worthless, cold, shaken, startled, person, self-pitying, and I deserve it all.

Read more...

Leave me alone life.

I’m too weak.

I’ve turned into a babbling fool.

I’m lost.

I’ve lost sight of what had grown in me. Rhiannon, Cerridwen, Deirdre, Brihgid, Eriu and all those other versions of her. I need someone else. I can’t skip through the woods alone anymore. I need help with my wings. Where is my hearts secret Alder, I cannot find it’s roots.

My lack of anchoring frightens me. It gets worse everyday, like I have floated out farther and farther to sea. Away from what I used to know as security. Why did I ever give it up, will I ever get it again? This will be my last ditch effort. Afterwards, I know I should just let life go on it’s own, without forcing it. Without wanting to force it. Without being inadvertently controlled or controlling in. I just want to be held forever, kissed all over. My hand in someone’s. Everyday over and over… who the fuck am I?

Read more...

It was me who had to learn never you.

I promise you will be fine, just you wait and see.

Patience.

Never let go, I can never say again.

Solitary traffic.

I don’t remember anymore.

There is no anchor, there is only distancing myself from all around me.

What will it be like?

Familiar stone.

Intense horizon.

Burning chest, wrenching ventricles.

Steady on there, are you okay?

Shuddering bones.

Numb fingers.

Make me warm, I am proud, I don't see my lamp holder.

Invading thoughts, seeping through the shadows, you my dear are unfair.

Read more...

I never really believed that you felt mental pain in the physical sense. But my anguish has been expressed in a lot of physical ways. I feel like someone has reached their hands right in between my breasts to slowly bruise my soul there. The inside of my mouth is cut up, which could possibly mean that during sleep last night I chewed them up. My breath is short and shallow. I panic easily. Someone drove by and screamed “damn” at me out the window, I nearly screamed, but my body froze and I just stood there in shock. I don’t want to eat. I don’t want to see people because I will lie when they ask me “how are you?” My anchor is thousands of miles away on a distant coast, and I wish so badly to be with her so that we could hold each other up properly.

Mostly what I offered via my letter was insensitively returned in single sentences that were entirely selfish. It was emotion lacking and had a non-present attitude. I completely opened the door to moving from gray to clear, and got nothing of what I wanted to get back. When I sent the email I sat on the floor shuddering, and mostly likely it was because I knew the outcome. I was never going to get what I want, and it’s not because he isn’t the person I want, but he won’t give me what I am looking for. I think I need someone who is going to actually tell me more then once “I miss you, I want you, I want to be there for you”. And he’s not interested, or he can’t or whatever the issue is, its not there, and I don’t think it will ever be there.

Read more...

I don't even know. What is going on... I suppose it was the way I expected it to be, which doesn't really line up with the way I want it to be. But I remember back in the day is said the same thing about the previous times. So really I don't think I can do anything with out complaining about it. Things won't ever be perfect. And after all of that, there really wasn't anything negative, just things I wanted that were missing. On his end, he was the same, or all the things he said he was feeling held true, just those things are not intense, don't create the type of feeling I am looking for in myself. I'll be back next weekend, but I'm still going to feel unsettled in my chest.

Read more...

I’m completely irrational. But last night I did cry, a long time. My post which I hap hazard spell checked once and then posted has a lot of issues besides just the grammatical errors. After my crying I lay still, more still then I have for a long time, my eyes burning but the rest of my body felt lifeless. I missed sober crying, or rather the feeling after it. I fell asleep for a little bit, in which I had a dream that it was morning, and Grant asked “was anyone over last night, I heard a lot of noise”, I just said “I had a rough night”. The dream ended. I woke up and read a little bit of my second Avalon book, searching for the inspiration that had guided me along all this time ago, the strength of the maiden/mother in my life, and it did not come, I only achieved more stillness. I fell asleep and dreamed nothing of my life, and woke up in a surprisingly good mood. Then remembered that morning was always the best time of the day and the late evenings the worst. Either way, I go now to face in person one of my troubles. I figure if I don’t go, I wont ever heal, I wont ever go again. And frankly the way I’m feeling is the least I deserve. I had it coming to me, and I don’t deserve to ask for happiness or love from anyone.

Read more...

I haven’t cried in months. And I am now. A whole toilet paper roll’s worth of tears to dry up. I haven’t felt more stressed and worried in years. I am so depressed, I’m finally facing the real hard truth about why I have all my sleepless nights, why I don’t want to go to school anymore, why I’m freaking grasping at straws. I am simply in a state of depression, that I have been trying to suppress even ignore. It’s hard for me to imagine someone I loved so deeply looking into someone else’s eyes with the same desire and intensity of complete devotion. I don’t even think I’m capable of doing that ever again with anyone. I don’t know if this weekend will change my mind about it either, or just reaffirm my beliefs. I don’t even know if I want to look at anyone else that way again, maybe I could love him or her, but it would never be the same. It’s never going to be the same as before. I feel like I’m not sure if could ever love that passionately again, as if I could ever have the opportunity to even try. I have the strangest feeling I am going to be alone the rest of my life, and that I may have had the chance not to be a hundred times over with a hundred different people or maybe just one, and that I fucking through my life down the drain. I’m so completely desperate at the moment to get some inclination that my life which has been spiraling out of control since my car accident, no since my bloody 21st birthday will ever feel good again for more then a period of one day. I have no joy in anything I do. I don’t have an affirmation; guarantee that I will be a whole person ever again. When I got drunk, I was crying about all the real things I am depressed about, not because of the days events, but when I was saying “don’t leave me alone” I was calling out to my old self, my friends, my old familiar comforting people. I just feel utterly completely alone, and I’m being led farther and farther away from places of complete security. I keep thinking this one weekend will cure everything, that magically he might turn into the perfect person for me, but its so hard to convince myself of that. It’s so hard, and that can only mean that there maybe no hope at all this weekend, that I’ll come back to Humboldt complete worn to my very soul. I’ll fall deeper into a slump of depression eventually leading me to a place I have never been, because I am reaching the threshold of where I have never ever gone past before. I get waves of okay-ness, where things seem to brighten up, either in excitement or company or words spoken, but moments later I doubt all over again, deep within me that everything will be okay. I know that most people end up leading miserable unhappy lonely lives, my sister for example, and I’m prone to end up like her. I’m terrified of everything. Someone just give me a chance to be happy again, to have someone love me again, let me not be stupid enough to ruin it, let me realize that I am lucky to have it, let me give back to them, and let me please please please not be alone.

Read more...

Am I living in an illusion, believing things are a certain way, relaxing and letting my guard down too much. It had been so good living in ignorance. I have a feeling this is really going to hurt.

Read more...

My wings are no longer folded around me. I’m on fire. Like the sun, I can feel the gold filling me up again. I’m longing for it, like my arms are reaching out until they turn into ancient banners, whipped by the wind. It’s so human, behind my ribs.

Read more...

I want more. I want all of it.

Read more...

The storm is coming! The wind blows hot at first. Chunky clouds, swelling with rain rumble over the land , pregnant with rain. My head aches from the weight of the sky. “The Forest House” depresses me, and I wonder when I can see or feel that intensely again. I wonder if it’s happening now. I can feel myself being pulled in by words spoken; yet I have always been the one to say, “We’re never going to make the bus”. I wonder about it, what it’s going to be like when I am dropped from lily pad to lily pad, finally making it to LA. Words spoken now could be glimpses into that time, but also preliminary thoughts of disappointment may lead me to find out otherwise. Sitting here I can almost feel the way I used to be, rivers are flowing again. I just have to get to them. When I hear the music of the water I have to be careful not to rush through the woods to it too quickly, or I loose the sound to my own feet crunching in the under growth. It’s delicate like a snowflake, it could melt away at the slightest change to its environment.

Read more...

I like the idea of having a boy friend tonight.

I saw two dead house cats today, hit and run, placed on the side of the road.

I played with kittens today; their eyes are like tide pools.

I am pining so much for something from someone, and what I imagine I want from this person is something I will never know until I try, I guess that is why I am at where I am. Sometimes I feel like everything I think I have gained in my life, is either an illusion or accompanied with more crazy human habits and issues, which are growing equally fast. A lot of time I have to remind myself that yes I am only human. And a human girl at that, I may believe there are things boys and girls do and feel the same, but there are many things that are meant to be different. And in my case all these human habits and issues I keep talking about are the ones that may be distinctly female and even distinctly Caitlin. They cannot be changed, nor can they be pushed away, stopped, but rather recognized, dealt with only after that.

I bought a book today by Marion Zimmer Bradley, The Forest House. It’s the prequel to her Mists of Avalon. That book stayed with me, and it morphed with other ideas, other books nd pushed forward my sense of being in touch with my girl side. The path in the moonlight and the power I have within myself that I sometimes realize, that my eyes sometimes tap into pulling in the boys around me, and yet I still stand unreachable, only to falter and pull inwards again away, hiding in the undergrowth from winking stars and my guide. When she comes back again, I hope it is not when I am already too far-gone down one path or the other. I ramble, and I know that only I will understand what I mean when I reread these things. On the other hand, usually this strength gets me only a few moments of power, in which I feel her flowing through me like fire, and usually its in the blinding sun when I am least expecting it that people come to me on their own, when she is quiet in me, but there and un-noticeable and stronger then ever. I hope she comes back again, I feel her sometimes, now and then, and when I look at the skylight in my room on a fully moonlit night I know she is waiting outside for me, to take my hand, and take me down to dance around her glowing fires.

Read more...

Remember how I used to talk about my path in the woods, and the stars and the moon, and the lantern holder? I can't even relate to that anymore. Now its more like dark circles and vast stretches of time between seeing anyone who I am allowed to be friends with anymore. I'm down to one now. Thank god for roommates, and for Olga, I would be completely alone, except for Jordan of course. He's not a lantern holder...I am not even sure what he is... just that there are so many positives and negatives that I cannot make any decisions to push or pull regarding him. I feel like I probably couldn't until I saw him again, it wouldn't be fair. There is no way to judge people based on AIM or other silly technological devices, I am almost sure things between would escalate to some level of clarity if we were together, and generally all the things I am paranoid about and he suspicious about, would not be there to worry about. But it's not fair to make any rash decisions, I couldn't risk an experience I have not had yet, in other words I'm not done with this experience, and it needs to keep going. In the meantime, my stable demeanor of life sucks oh well, is faltering, and my shield is dented and I feel like I drag my feet more, getting on my bike or under a 45 pound bar is something I for surely feel is helping me not topple over into pools of misery, just as my friends and Jordan have helped to hold me up to.

Read more...

It's sooooooo cold, I examine my eyes as they seem to slide down the sides of my face. Brilliant blazing hair on my arms from a bending lamp head, like gold spider webs. Where do these dark circles come from, I ask looking at the mirror again. Probably the shadows creeping out from the back of my cave, come to paint on my face at night.

AIM
Caitlin
sometimes i wonder what winks mean hehehhe

Jordan
umm
not sure

Caitlin
well they entail a secret lol
i mean traditionally

Jordan
oh

Caitlin
but now if used in a bar to some person it means ur hot
or lets fuck

Jordan
haha

Caitlin
or im drunk and something got in my eye

Jordan
><

Read more...

I have no social life...i foresee many nights of going to bed early simply because I have what like two friends. Lame...
In other news I'm a terrible person, and a jealous one.
Yet more news...I'm angry, depressed and wait thats nothing new..

Read more...

One thing about new people you get involved with is that everything will be different. The way I expect to be treated, or treat them is very different then the last time. I’m not sure how to handle it. To be honest it makes me want to say to them, what the fuck? It’s a weird situation for me, I’m disappointed and sad and frustrated all at the same time.

On the other hand I’ve finally moved into my own room, in my own house. I have four other roommates, Natalie, Grant, Maddy and Simone. Hippies, pot smokers, incense burning typical Humboldt State students. If someone came to stay with me, they would get the real Humboldt college experience. The house itself seems to be leaning to the west, and the water on the floor of the bathroom seeps that direction. My room is the most central room in the house, I have no windows just a skylight. It’s also the biggest room, long and narrow. Wood panels cover half the walls, white paint and mirror closets the other half. The carpet is brown-green shag, and the whole thing freaks me out more then it sounds fun. I turned out the light last night and it was black. I felt awkward lying there in all my junk, alone for the first time in months. I reached out for the nothingness around me, and was handed back an empty jar of cold pitch.

I’ve noticed the dark circles under my eyes growing, or just becoming more and more noticeable. The ache in my muscles is literally the only thing I am happy about. I feel like my body is the only thing doing anything productive, and practicing something to better itself. I feel like I’m walking through molasses, and I’m in that place where I don’t know if what I am doing right now will be regretted later, because I am so oblivious to it, so caught up in it. I know I haven’t been able to feel that simple relaxed feeling since summer. I just can’t let go, and sit there. When I sit and try to just turn off, space out, I can’t do it. I’m so anxious, beyond anxious.

Read more...

Turmoil. I am so unhappy, so completely lost, it's quiet, above all lonely, desperate, I'm grasping for the impossible.

Read more...

First of all, a random rambling of basic rushing thoughts:
Lonesomeness is something I had not really anticipated in coming back to school. I thought I was prepared to be independent wielding a sword of self-confidence in all that I do. Rather I’ve been thrust into some deep unapproachable place. I hide away in the fleece blanket I’ve been loaned watching as Morton tears his hair out in anxiety-ridden dilemmas because of his attachments. I’m not ripping my hair out. I’m pulling away from myself. Every night I fall asleep feeling that heavy weight pressing on my chest, or like my arms are being pulled away into rivers flowing into distant valleys of solitude. Not a happy solitude. Then there’s the whole other issue of how long can I go on like this, and is the thing I’m missing even a thing at all? Will it even be there the way I can’t even imagine it to be? It’s like I’m holding on to something that hasn’t even been whispered yet. What kind of attachment is this? Guh if that one sentence was uttered how would I respond, would it automatically fling me into a pool of melted butterscotch? Everyday waiting for a voice spoken, but never seen. Would it even last?

“Well, bottom line to it all, I want you, I don’t know where/what/how it'll work now and later
But I still want it, I’m and happy to get whatever is given”
Sometimes I have to reread the conversations so I don’t get off my track, so I can maintain what I have without pushing it away so I don’t “miss my chance” either.
The things I like most I think are the honesty of his sole. Even if he’s wrong in mind his belief in it, makes me realize how logical and in tune with himself he is. It’s refreshing, to have a person of security in themselves. It’s a quality I could never have with James due to our lack of experience and years. Of course there’re the physical behavioral attractions, which can draw me in, if that bridge, were crossed (they already do). But this one characteristic I find the most appealing. He does what he wants to do for himself, and defends his heart from things, but does not shut it down either. I think the communication is what makes us click the most, and I know that in anyone I have relations with, if that factor is not there, I cannot maintain any type of relationship with them at all. I also know that I like the constant social connection with people, more then I thought I did. I enjoy hours of the same person, building up something between us. I can go days with them, being around them. We don’t even have to be talking, but experiencing the same comfort, energy and silence is something I find to be at the bottom of a lot of things I’m dealing with right now. It’s like Morton, he is so obsessively attached and he doesn’t even know the reason for it. Unfortunately dogs can’t talk steps back, read important things, and get a grasp on ones life. I being human know that that constant company of people is something I cannot deny any longer, I need it, and I miss this summers social structure that provided me with that. Yet all these discoveries about myself lead me to know conclusion to actively seek out the things I crave. As a result I grow timid and inward, retreating to the shyness I knew once so well. I can’t even reach out to the person I want to. School disinterests me, activities disinterest me. If I could have one wish now, it would be me on a tropical island, eating apples and drinking beer with those close friends and person whom I crave so much.

Oh Morton I wish for you a peace that I know I could achieve if I just put things down and stopped analyzing over and over. Instead just live, just live…things happen, and wherever your life goes is where you are supposed to be.

Read more...

The Shins - Pink Bullets

I was just bony hands as cold as a winter pole
you held a warm stone out new flowing blood to hold
oh what a contrast you were
to the brutes in the halls
my timid young fingers held a decent animal.

Over the ramparts you tossed
the scent of your skin and some foreign flowers
tied to a brick
sweet as a song
the years have been short but the days were long.

Cool of a temperate breeze from dark skies to wet grass
we fell in a field it seems now a thousand summers passed
when our kite lines first crossed
we tied them into knots
and to finally fly apart
we had to cut them off.

Since then it's been a book you read in reverse
you understand less as the pages turn
or a movie so crass
and awkardly cast
that even I could be the star.

I don't look back much as a rule
and all this way before murder was cool
but your memory is here and I'd like it to stay
warm light on a winters day.

Over the ramparts you tossed
the scent of your skin and some foreign flowers
tied to a brick
sweet as a song
the years have seemed short but the days go slowly by
two loose kites falling from the sky
drawn to the ground and an end to flight.

Read more...

When I think about all the stuff that has been happening to me since April, I come to one conclusion, which is, nothing is ever so bad you can’t handle it. Having said that there are amazingly good things that are happening at the same time as awful coincidences and loss in general. Almost ever negative thing has a positive side, a way to grow into something good for the future.

Positive:
Having sex this summer
Getting what I wanted this summer
Experiences
Flirting
Chased by boys
Going with the flow of things
Leaving sex buddy, experienced confident and validated
Never getting overly depressed
Red hair
Playing WoW again
Being in Humboldt
Not stressing
The Humboldt sky
Still able to cope with being around the ex after all the crap

Negative:
Leaving the sex buddy, a good friend, and missing it too much
Losing my favorite glasses and my moms digital camera
Chased by sleezy boys
Bad timing
Totaling my beloved Volvo
No place to live
Kicked off couch surfing couches
Whiplash and bruises
Playing WoW again
Leaving LA
Stuck with ex-boyfriends

I’ve probably missed a bunch, but these are the things whirring around my head.

Read more...

What happened to me in the month of July you may be wondering?

I found out that the true nature of people could sometimes be surprising. Sometimes it’s a wonderful surprise, sometimes its down right shocking. Sometimes they even startle themselves, it’s like looking up and seeing a mirror that you didn’t know was there. Usually I think it’s a learning experience. Many people have past the threshold of what they thought they were capable of this month, including myself. I am engaging in a mutually agreed purely sexual relationship, based on my wishes to experience my life to the fullest. I’m getting all I want from it, and everyday I check in with myself, “are you growing attached Caitlin?” The answer recurs in my mind NO, and then I think well why not? And it seems my thoughts lead me like a string through a narrow corridor to the off button I have recently discovered there. I turned it off it seems in my subconscious, knowing all too well that I have no interest in that type of relationship at the moment in my life. With this person it could only lead to nothing in the end anyways. I realize that the more people I meet the more I understand what I truly want. Also another positive aspect which could sound destructive if taken the wrong way, is the self validation that I am an attractive, likeable young woman, and finally proud and confident enough to say it. I am desired, and I hope to god it doesn’t go to my head, and I can continue to go on oblivious for the most part, but in control of who I can pick and choose from. I also recently attended Comic Con in San Diego and had a freaking blast spending two nights with four boys in a hotel room. The only low point being losing my digital camera. High points included: The Family Guy panel and watching the season premier episode, buying a t-shirt with a Unicorn and a Werewolf about to start a fight, stating “It’s on now!”, pool hopping at another hotel with sex relationship boy, getting drunk at some random ass bar, and being at Comic Con in general. Oh also, impressing four boys with my ability to make tremendous fart noises by forcing air between my hands as I press them over my mouth. It will all be over soon though, heading back north the 13th. I will miss the ability to make a phone call to satisfy my intense sex drive (sorry if that’s an uncomfortable statement, but its true, and I’m proud, and I don’t freaking care what people think), Seeing Anna and Olga, and going to LA bars and night clubs for the first time, Rainbow Acres and all the employees, and so much more.

My one wish for Humboldt is that time will be able to heal the hearts of people, including my own. That my hair will stay red and my tan will last. That I can carry on with my experiences and pursue the people and things I have always wanted there. That I can find a place to live, that I can take with me all the amazing summer memories, good and bad to grow and learn from, so that I can strive to be a better person and help the friends that matter the most to me.

Read more...

Things about the people who I work with at Rainbow Acres Natural Food Store

“Fany, could you tell this customer how much the discount is for baby food, I have no idea.”
“Uh-haa.” She answers. I love the way she says it, not uh-huh, but uh-haa with a beautiful Latin accent.

Michelle is always laughing, I love that laugh, and it’s genuinely cheery and enough to make you feel a little better every time.

Jessica’s deep melancholy voice, sometimes a smile escapes, betraying her past which one can glimpse the details of on her forearms.

Richard went to Humboldt, is there anything more I have to say?

Jamal’s politically incorrect, oh so stereotypical Indian impersonations.

Is it Damien, Damen, pretty to look at but to “emo” to be worth the trouble, according to the girls, although Jessica seems to flounder in spite of herself.

Skinny Esteban always asks me questions, like “Do you like history?” “Do you read books?” broad sweeping statements that if answered with a yes or no would end the conversation, and if answered in too much length would take an hour.

Read more...

I pass the test. I met him with frazzled feelings, which developed within the twenty minutes of warning I had. It was awkward. I found myself retreating for something solid, some nook to park myself, and brace myself and hide myself, the way I do when I am overcome with shyness. I found my bed behind me; sitting cross-legged I wrapped my hand around the circle bars at the end of my bed. I told him random things, things that didn’t matter, things to make sure I didn’t talk about anything I wasn’t ready to say, things I didn’t want to regret later. In this way that fighting impulse to keep me driving towards that un-named reason for doing this all in the fist place emerged and stood there like ghost. Then it was time to leave, I was rushing off to dinner, off to my sisters, the moons that would soon rise above the concrete to show me. We hugged goodbye, and melted in to each other. I fought then, hard with my inner chemicals, which were blooming all over my body. My eyes grew wet anyways. And for fear of being noticed, I strangely rested my head in his chest. I pushed him away, saying, “I’m getting your shirt wet again”. I was feeling sickly about the way his sighing and breathing in my hair felt so familiar, and so good. After that I scrambled to hang out with him, just to see. To see what the heck I was going to do. How easily the feeling of wanting to be with him again, the way we had for two years, not even as friends not even in a relationship, but just next to each other. When we finally did, I went cheerfully, and then realized as I was talking and smiling and feeling genuinely good all of a sudden. I wasn’t really sure what I wanted, but then I found out I was prepared to go on the way I had made it. Not with him. The only strong feeling I had was how much I wanted to be his friend so deeply. He’s not ready I discovered. It was too much for him still; three weeks had not been enough, even though for me it was. Now I know I am ready to go on, ready to handle days on my own, but being around him brings back that wanting feeling again, and hugging him makes it even worse. But I can stagger away still strong with that unnamed conviction. Maybe eventually it will wither away completely. But I was rushing him, and now I am away for an unknown length of time, and who knows. I just know that I am not dying inside the way I was for months, and that I was mourning that whole time. But now I have fond remembrances, sad feelings the way you do when something has come and gone.

Read more...

Dream Of The Language Wheel
By Tom Robbins

Ancient elf bones
stewing in the rain,
Angels the size of fruitflies
circling a buddha turd,
Star maps drawn in lipstick
on the mud of walls of opium towers.

Images like those,
scenes sucha as these-

The red midgets of hell
challenge Suzy’s friends
to a snowball fight
Or
In the cave behind the waterfall
the ant king licks the clitoris
of the sleeping anthropologist.-

existing only on paper
are yet more important
than flags, bibles, gold,
guns and reputations.
So
throw off your armor of acronyms,
your layers of numerical padding
and
come bathe with me,
come slide beside me naked
into the world’s steamy honeycomb
of words.

(From Wild Ducks Flying Backwards The Short Writing of Tom Robbins, published in 2005 by Bantam Books)

Read more...

This post is the previous post re-written, or returned to its original format, if you get my drift. Sometimes I returned to the original writing and put it in there, unclean and revealing, other times I rewrote the issues all together.

I analyze daily. I’m trying to discover explanations for humanity. Perhaps it is only my humanity. Why I may feel the way about this sometimes doesn’t follow through on a similar issue, and so a lot of the time I have to rethink life over again. I find I am continuously finding new factors for things, psychological and socialized factors, that make me think, feel and act the way I do. Sometimes I wonder if I ever loved James the way I thought being in love way like. I loved him, have that I am sure. But it’s strange the longer I go the more I don’t feel like my heart was ever breaking about losing him, it was always more about losing the safety and breaking him. Movies seem to make these scenarios that I have yet to see happen with my own eyes.

There was an intense devotion between Grealy and Patchett, they were able to express themselves to each other because of their talent, and I think it only strengthened their relationship. They knew what they were saying to one another, and there was no need for testament of their devotion, because deep down they knew it was there always. Maybe that’s how I approached James. He was just a friend I used for my own needs, but always down there deep there was devotion and faith about the relationship we had. But it was never more then an exceedingly close friendship. I’m doing it again, analyzing.

Sometimes I feel like I don’t keep my friends close enough. When I get glimpses of what it is like to not be with friends I realize I don’t appreciate or try hard enough with the ones I have. Specifically Olga and Anna. Boys who are friends are an entirely different manner, for the most part. But I feel like that’s boring and I don’t want to write about it. But I always take for granted how entirely lucky we are be here, and that ever moment I let my friends not know that I am lucky to have them I am not thankful enough.

I want to be a person who writes long letters to distant friends about my life, letters about my romantic travels. But that is not me. I realize I want to be this floating wisp of summer dresses and tan skin covering a useful body, walking across lands so faraway. But it’s not me. People don’t have to write back. In fact I have the strangest feeling that I would want them to sit at home and fall in love with me. It may be a good time to say that I am writing this after a numerous amount of terrible beer and have just staggered in from being driven home by a notoriously awful driver who had also been drinking. Perhaps I am just floating above my chair. I want people to wish they were me sometimes. To be beautiful, unobtainable, unstoppable, unchain me.

Read more...

I’m reading Truth & Beauty by Anne Patchett; the strange thing is I sort of know the story from Autobiography of a Face by Lucy Grealy. You see Grealy’s autobiography was published in 1994, and is the story of her life until that point. Patchett her best friend, later wrote Truth & Beauty about their friendship, and it includes all the events after Grealy’s autobiography leading up until her death in 2002. The point I have so elaborately taken time to explain is that I wish I had the power to write the way these women can. How does someone decide they can start a novel, a memoir? How could they possibly plan it? I think these books are about their lives, but more of a testament about how they write about their lives. In the end they are just people and everyone has just as much of a good life story as anyone else, it’s your ability to convey the stories in a different way then everyone else out there. If I were to write about my life, I would have to continuously take notes of what people said, looked like, what I did, where and when. I think that is a reflection of how much I would be worried about screwing up the details all that would most likely get in the way. My worries about what I was conveying untruthfully, in the end I would have a few sentences beaten to a pulp like chicken breasts about to be marinated. I suppose my lack of eloquence, vocabulary and lack of organization would eventually get in the way too. In fact I believe that I prefer to write short spurts about interesting and important things to me in a public forum, either in letters, emails, Blogs, Instant Messages, profiles and all the other technology driven things we do these days, because I don’t have to go on with it, and if I am missing something it’s excusable because it’s just some short piece. Also I find that I cannot express myself in talking as much as I can in writing, which could be positive and negative in many ways, and something I notice more and more.

I recently read Bill Bryson’s A Short History Of Nearly Everything, which was quite enjoyable, especially if you are into science but not wishing to delve into heavy-duty texts to get the information. He presents it with his usual wit, and brings it to a level that anyone could understand. However I found that most of what I was reading I have learned about in many general education courses at school. It just goes more deeply, talks about the who what where and how of the science and what it actually means. However the main idea is that we are very lucky to be here indeed, and take it for granted because ‘civilization’ and its recorded history has only been written during tranquil times of existence. Sometimes I was left mortified that an asteroid would collide with the earth, or an ice age would descend upon us, but tats the point, we aren’t used to thinking of these ideas.

In other news, all my pain and panic about my situation with James has subsided rather unexpectedly. However I still get that strange panicked disoriented feeling, where I realize I am alone and everyday I lose James more and more and he in turn is losing me, and the though of breaking his heart, and losing something safe still plagues me everyday. But now its sort of like a limp, the collision happened, I went through the pain, and now all that’s left is this limp which occasionally makes my body ache due to over compensation for it. Last night I genuinely had fun for the first time in Los Angeles. Don’t get me wrong I love spending days and days alone with minimal social contact from time to time, but last night I went out with a crowd I hardly see and it was refreshing and different then all the times before. Perhaps it was because I was alone, meaning not with my best girlfriends, I wasn’t going because it was an obligation, and I was single but not interested in anything to be had there. So I genuinely enjoyed myself without worrying about all the shit I generally tend to in my garden of anxious twelve story weeds I am always talking about.
I feel like I have tons more to write about, but this will do for now.

Read more...

I have so many moments interrupted by nauseated pain of disorientation. I expect to see someone sitting on my left, but all that’s there are windows. Olga says you have to mourn the end of relationships. She’s right. But I don’t know if I’m ready to mourn mine yet.

I finally did it, I cancelled WoW tonight, uninstalled it from my computer. And I had to so that I could move on either two paths, which are set before me. I haven’t the slightest clue which way to go, and I am so scared, and my face is so burnt with tears, I just want to forget all of this.

I just need to peer into the future, I need more time, I need to not be selfish, angry, I need to follow what I want for myself too though. I’m so sorry I don’t know, I’m so sorry I am putting you through this, I am so sorry…

Read more...

I flew alone to LA last night, leaving Humboldt County quickly, no slow death for me.

Past few weeks writings from oldest to most recent.

I’m at the Mad River today. The water looks like melted liquid malachite, gorgeous. It’s cold, running from the mountains. (Later I will walk by the mouth of the Mad at the beach, and wonder if the water is the same I swam in this day.) A breeze, not all together warm, sails through the ravine that the river has cut.

Colin drunk means many intriguing interrupted conversations on what me, what I want to do in life. The key here is me, not him. I leave here four days from now. For a while I was frightened, now I have an ache, but it’s old.

I’m reading “A Short History of Nearly Everything” by Bill Bryson.

Tonight was the first time I asked myself if I was still “in love” with James in almost two years. I’ve asked myself in passing, the way one might ask if oneself if they like breathing, the answer of course is yes. But this night the answer was different. The answer was unclear. I do not know if I love him the way a lover or a girlfriend loves someone, meaning I am loving him as a friend, as an ex. Now I find myself selfishly missing the comfort of another body, a male presence in my life. It’s strange how much we’re coded to want that so terribly.

It’s amazing how utterly lovely I actually feel at this moment. It’s entirely new to me, entirely frightening. Soft sounds of Humboldt county float in my window. I am pining. Dreary fall drizzle, tight arms and hundred pound blankets. The next moment I am surely to feel lonesome again. Ah! Here it comes now. I imagine dark woods, the moon covered up, no stars circling. Probably mumblings of anxiety, related to the decisions I have made. Decisions I thought could be altered if it came to it. But it seems the longer I leave them, the deeper the indent, eventually a hole will be gaping there. As I had predicted in my shelter, my shield, my chains only a few months back now, that if I wandered this other path alone, for too long, the distance between James’ and mine would grow too great. It has. In my limited experience I thought that it was impossible to let go of someone to the degree that I have let go of James, I gave myself the time and the parameters to do so, and it is just going on naturally.

“If I wasn’t with you, I would be a flight attendant”, spoken by large breasted, annoying voice of fellow plane passenger.

Good-bye Humboldt, I didn’t cry.

I’m working on my Chaco tan…I’ve turned into a Humboldt Count poser. I drove around LA today and already I am weary of it. At home in my old room I am strangely at ease, maybe I am numb.

Read more...

I’ve been writing a whole lot. In a journal, I bought a Moleskine. Supposedly Hemingway and Vango and other such loonies wrote in Moleskines. There are single thoughts that I feel like I have to write down, or they will be gone. Keeping them in a journal is keeping them safe to a certain degree. When I don’t have a chance to type things up, I can write them in it, save them for later. I’ve tried to make this a habit, and so far it is not breaking, perhaps it is because I bought it unlined, allowing maximum flexibility. I've drawn a lot in it, doodles and sketches. These following pieces would each be found on their own page, signifying beginning and end.

I don’t know if I need a vacation as much as an adventure. A journey where I am un-able to attach myself to things. Things that I do not need, people who do not need me.

Maybe I am trying to hard. Trying to be something I am not. Maybe I should let all myself out. Maybe that is what’s wrong. But in trying to please others, impress them I am being myself and I just don’t know it?

I had not wanted to use pen in this journal, but it was all that there was in my pack today. I’m sitting at College Cove, sheltered from the wind, but blazing with sun just the same. The smell of sunscreen, sweat and ocean wash up my chest. My favorite smells of recent days, Juniper incense in the evening, sunscreen in the day. I had forgotten this place. How I discovered it, spent time in its lap. Sitting here now it seems like some deep memory, some part of me that was always there, before I was even born. The beaches of Northern California can leave someone felling so very isolated. It’s a different sort of feeling, from the Southern California beach stretching on and on. I realize how much my life is intertwined with the Pacific Ocean. It is where the mother’s secrets are kept, her tears and blood well up. I have grown up living close to it; I don’t know how much I could function without knowing it swirled close to me. The clouds play tricks on me today. I see islands on the horizon where there are none. This sand is dark and soft, I can’t find cigarette butts and smoothed out shards of glass like I can on the raped sand of Venice beach.

I have never craved being away from James and the apartment so much as I have these past days. So much anger. It saddens me how much I have grown so full of frustration. Such heated feelings towards dumb things.

Mostly I remember his long bedroom, unusually long. It stretched out unlit during an afternoon of gentle Humboldt rain. I know he had an unmade bed, but we were not in it. Some place else. I had a feeling with him I have not yet experienced with anyone yet. Perhaps that is the feeling I have caused all this to happen, perhaps that is what I am looking for. I don’t know who he was; I know he wasn’t built like Bike Guy, tall lanky, or scrawny or spindly like Galen, or like James stiff and muscular. He seemed smaller, but not weak by any means. I had a faint sense of Howl from the dubbed English version of Howl’s Moving Castle, a movie I am surprisingly enchanted with. It’s peculiar I know to be attracted to a fictional cartoon character, but it’s not the way it sounds, at least I don’t think so. It’s more like the delivery of lines, the choice of words, and the movement portrayed, I can’t explain it. I don’t know how to say it without sounding completely creepy. Perhaps it’s the way I feel when I watch that movie, not even Howl the character. But this person was that feeling, when I woke up I was angry I wanted to sleep to go back to him, back to his tall ceilings, rectangular windows and plaid blankets.

Read more...

The previous post is a freewrite. Now that I read it again, I realize there are huge chunks of explanation missing. Ideas, and thoughts flow into each other dangerously. Meaning somethings look related, when they aren't, somethings are made to look too simple, or too complex.

Read more...

I do not like that I am suddenly conscious of my body. Constantly worried about the way it looks. I haven’t felt like this since I was a freshman, since before James.

Finally I am having a better day. I have had a couple weeks of instability. Relapsing. Worries about school kept me busy, but eventually wore me out. My hormones raging, finally gave me some much-needed rest, and I ended my cycle. When James’s birthday came along on Cinco de Mayo, I was beat. I was supposed to go to a Potluck, but suddenly something got the best of me. Something I had not felt in a couple of years. I satisfied needs with James, I suppose it was part of his birthday present. I knew it was a bad idea, I knew it would be and I cried. But it was his birthday. The rest of the week I drove myself insane. My ears grew worse. Eventually I was deaf in both ears, unless someone yelled at me I couldn’t hear a thing. Everything grew very closed in, muggy fog in my head. The pressure was horrible. For a little while I thought I could hear a little man walking up a staircase in my left ear. The echoing foot steps in an empty building. But it was my blood pulsing through my clogged ears. I got them cleaned this morning, after I found myself awake for hours last night. Now I can hear clearly, every tick, every ringing bell, bird chirping. The aching pain in my head, led me to rely on James for a few things. Also I did not have the car at all most of the week, and I found myself walking home ways that I didn’t need to go, past certain places. I went out often, walking those unusual ways often. But I would come home without the desired result. Then I turned to the easy source. I have to stop myself from wanting to hold on to James again, from wanting to kiss him for the comfort, not for the feel good sensation. Simply for the attention.

Everyone I meet who shows the slightest interest in me, I fall in love with. I think it’s part of my insecurity about myself. The attention I get suddenly gives me a natural good feeling. But after I crave it, and wonder why it’s not there. I ask too many questions and stop the moon from guiding me. Why can’t I just have friends?

I think I have an anxiety issue about separating from people. Why can’t I leave a place without freaking out about leaving people behind? I find any time I am going to leave people for an extended about of time, or they are going to leave me, I start to crash. I cry, I think I can’t survive without these people. I question why they are leaving, should I make them stay, or if I am leaving, whether I am making the best decision. But soon after I have finished crying in the loneliness I make for myself, I get over it, and I am better. But the initial break is the hardest part. This has happened with James, my parents, my best friends when I moved to college. These people are all quite different. I suppose people I am the most honest with, people I have depended the most on.

Read more...

This last day April, I look over the posts I have written this past month, and it's amazing how fast things happen, just when you think life goes by so slow. This month has been a turning point...

Read more...

I attended Calypso last night. Remember when I went like three years ago, as a freshman? I had a blast, dancing with hippies etc. This time I went with Aleisha and this time I knew Galen in the band, and this time I had fun too. This time I knew I was going to have fun, so it wasn’t the amazing experience like the first time but, of course, I had so much fun. I love dancing. And Calypso is perfect.

From the HSU music web page…
The Steel Drum, or “Steelpan" as it is called in Trinidad, is a highly developed instrument formed from a 55-gallon oil barrel. The barrel is hammered, measured, scribed, grooved, fired, and then fine-tuned by an expert craftsman. Through the use of single, double, and multiple combinations of barrels of different depths, the full symphonic range is reproduced. The music performed on these instruments has been called both festive and inspirational, and the steelpan drum was, in fact, the only acoustic instrument invented in the 20th century.

The Humboldt State Calypso Band prides itself in maintaining an accurate and authentic connection to the Caribbean roots of the steel band movement and the innovative musicians of Trinidad, the island on which this unique percussion phenomenon was born. Present and former members of the Calypso Band have traveled to the West Indies, where they performed with some of the best steelbands in the world in Trinidad’s National Panorama Competition during Carnival. In turn, Panorama music from Trinidad has greatly influence the band's repertoire and instrumentation.

In other news…
I may be going cross-country. I haven’t left California in three years. I’ve never been to the east coast. And in light of recent events in my life, I need to explore. Being on the other side will be an experience. I’ve discovered that what I really need to do with my situation, is figure out what I want, what I can do, and not have to take care of someone anymore. My friend Amy commented on a post of mine a wee time ago, “I have been an “us” and a “we” for so long”. I feel the same way. I’m worried I have forgotten who I am. I haven’t really gotten to the point of knowing something about me, and what I want, and where I want to go. I need to do stuff on my own, while I am in college, cause here I am still growing. Here I am safe to explore still, to learn still. I cannot let myself fall in to a funk later on in life. What I mean is, if I stayed with James who I do dearly love, I would later on in life most likely regret that I did not try things I may have wanted to. That’s not to say I know what I want to try right now, but as I have said, being in this relationship I am tied to him. My decisions all revolve around “we” and “us”. I have shut myself off from many things because of that. I am only 21. I cannot do that yet. This choice is hard, will be harder later, when the actual separation from James happens. He is with his friends right now, and I miss him. But it’s better then the last time he left, when I wept, and grew weary of my choice to end this. Right now I have gone through weeks of convincing myself I need to do this to grow. Now I know that’s what I want to do. When my stomach turns abruptly I feel the worst, but I breathe in. When I think about the heart that I have broken, I feel the worst, but I exhale and try to move forward.

Read more...

April 4, 2005 This I Believe

By: Isabel Allende

--Here is the website where you can listen to essay read by Isabel Allende
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4568464


I have lived with passion and in a hurry, trying to accomplish too many things. I never had time to think about my beliefs until my 28-year-old daughter Paula fell ill. She was in a coma for a year and I took care of her at home, until she died in my arms in December of 1992.

During that year of agony and the following year of my grieving, everything stopped for me. There was nothing to do -- just cry and remember. However, that year also gave an opportunity to reflect upon my journey and the principles that hold me together. I discovered that there is consistency in my beliefs, my writing and the way I lead my life. I have not changed, I am still the same girl I was fifty years ago, and the same young woman I was in the seventies. I still lust for life, I am still ferociously independent, I still crave justice and I fall madly in love easily.

Paralyzed and silent in her bed, my daughter Paula taught me a lesson that is now my mantra: You only have what you give. It's by spending yourself that you become rich.

Paula led a life of service. She worked as a volunteer helping women and children, eight hours a day, six days a week. She never had any money, but she needed very little. When she died she had nothing and she needed nothing. During her illness I had to let go of everything: her laughter, her voice, her grace, her beauty, her company and finally her spirit. When she died I thought I had lost everything. But then I realized I still had the love I had given her. I don't even know if she was able to receive that love. She could not respond in any way, her eyes were somber pools that reflected no light. But I was full of love and that love keeps growing and multiplying and giving fruit.

The pain of losing my child was a cleansing experience. I had to throw overboard all excess baggage and keep only what is essential. Because of Paula, I don't cling to anything anymore. Now I like to give much more than to receive. I am happier when I love than when I am loved. I adore my husband, my son, my grandchildren, my mother, my dog, and frankly I don't know if they even like me. But who cares? Loving them is my joy.

Give, give, give -- what is the point of having experience, knowledge or talent if I don't give it away? Of having stories if I don't tell them to others? Of having wealth if I don't share it? I don't intend to be cremated with any of it! It is in giving that I connect with others, with the world and with the divine.

It is in giving that I feel the spirit of my daughter inside me, like a soft presence.

Read more...

At least I don't feel like I am dead, actually I kinda feel like what I always dreaded when I was a little kid. Grown up. None of this happens to you when you're little. At first I took it hard, I stuck my feet in the sand and let the waves come. I didn't back down. I cried, I broke down... Now I am getting to the point of strange limbo, I care, but I don't too. I make sense, but I don't either. I can't explain, but I know I have been in his shoes, you can't always explain why you are breaking someone. To be honest with you, I don't know what is going to happen now. I don't know if I will break down, and drown again in the easiness that is this relationship. I don't know if I'm even looking for something. I don't really know what I am doing, but the fact that I'm still not toppling over yet, may say something about why this is happening.

Then I think back over the past six months of this two year time. And I remember the doubts I had, what I wasn't happy with but ignored. These things are all around me now, reminding me that if I went back I would be tied up again. No not tied up, but I would shield myself from the outside. I know that I hardly made the effort to do anything because other stuff might mess up what this was. I mean I had this constant fear that if I was not with him 24/7 I would grow apart. That I would find something better. Deep down I knew, that if I found something/someone better I would probably pursue it, and drift apart. So I closed myself off from doing anything real, in fact WOW only contributed. It sheltered me from reality like a drug abuser. There are other things too, obvious little nuisances. Being the mother, no intellectual stimulation etc. That I think about going back to, and I don't want to.

But I'm scared of the alone. I am scared of having to build all that up again, even though at the moment I don't want to have anything to do with it. I'm scared of my sudden physical consciousness. I am scared of never having that communication, and comfort level. I really am, the ease of slipping back into the shelter makes this a really hard decision to make. However in spite of all those things, I feel like I have to do this, or I'll never know the other stuff...see the thing here is I'm choosing between two regrets. The regret of never knowing other things, and the regret of loosing the only thing I had. It's the risk I have to take. I feel like if we went back to the way things were, I would be lying to myself, to him too. I feel like if I went back I would come to this cross road again. It would haunt me forever...

But still all those reason don't make the breaking of someone easier to deal with. I feel like a terrible person because I am one.

Read more...

Sometimes I cannot tell if things are getting easier or harder. It seems old memories and habits pop up, reminding me of the good old times, but it's easier to say no to the present ones. I cant really ask if this is the right or wrong thing to do. It's not a matter of right or wrong this time. My will to resist and actions to maintain my descisions, show me that there is something going on in me. This thing in me must be important, I grow to find that this must be done, and for both our sakes too.
I still cry, I fight a lot with my eyes, my voice, my arms...

Read more...

There are so many things I could write about, but I dont want to this time. SO I am going to write indirectly. Dreams are dangerous things, and I dont know where I am going, where they are leading me. Its a dark path in the woods that I wander now. The light is gone completely, the lamp failed. Can it be re-lit? What about the new lamps, this time more veiled and confusing. They lead me off the path and I get confused by their signals. The only thing keeping me grounded to earth is the moon swining over head, my true sister. I wonder about the dreams I have of sun drenched grass fields...how dreams have such a profound affect on life. Even if they dont come true in the way you expect, somehow that subconscious world mingles with the real one. Dreams are dangerous things, the path in the woods is dark...

Read more...

Timing is everything.

Finally something worthy to feel so much about. I have an excuse to feel like shit for once.

Sometimes I just want every person involved to just be erased from my mind for a week, sit on some bench in something beautiful and not remember anything.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Read more...

Well as you can see, from my last post I’m 21 now. Since spring break a couple weeks ago my whole “self” has been…well let’s just say I’m not “right”, whatever that means. Aleisha took me bar hopping, and Galen came to. I had about four shots, I think, a couple of beers too. We ended up just sitting in Toby and Jack’s talking for about two hours, deep in to the night. I found I had to yell to be understood, but I don’t know if that’s why I was feeling so empowered to talk or the alcohol or just me. Probably a combination. But we told Galen everything about our past, including wild birthdays from freshman year. It was just a great thing for me to talk about, because it was, as close to telling the real person the real shit I should have said back in the day. But that’s really a closed subject I realized. After we talked I still didn’t feel too inclined to care anymore.

The week went on, and my hormones and I now I am stressed when I break out in disgusting cold sores send me in to wild frenzies of frustrated words. Last night and this morning seemed to be the culmination of everything. However it wasn’t a break down, it was a dream. I want to think it meant something as much as I want to forget it because it’s only a dream. It was simple. Not much to say that would make any sense written. I was in a cemetery, and these other guys I was hanging out with-ones of which I maybe met once in my life were there. They wanted to take me to the Window Room. But as soon as I saw I had to crawl down a tunnel to get there, I couldn’t handle it. I said, “guys I cant do this, it’s my claustrophobia. I walked down the hill of the cemetery to a shady place close to the road. Across the street houses that reminded me of southern California bordered the road. I saw across the street familiar people crossing the road; people that resembled people in my geography department. For the purposes of the next part I am going to call this person Bob, I don’t know any Bobs so that works. But Bob came out the crowd, “Caitlin!” he said and ran over to me. We embraced the way we do when we see each other, always tight. “What are you doing here?” I asked, apparently realizing we were in Venice California. What happens next is kind of blurry, but the clearest thing I remember next is sitting on the grass, leaning back on our hands, our legs stretched out before us. Bob generally likes to stand or sit close to people, seems to be in his nature. The closeness was an obvious tension between us, and I looked up knowing that we were going to kiss. And of course we did, and I was enjoying it, more then just a typical “sex dream”, but rather more like my entire ‘self” was except for one thing. I kept feeling my eyes tighten, as I knew I should pull away. I thought about James. But for some reason in my dream I wanted this more then that whole thing. Strange how easy and willing people are to give up their entire life for something so small? It seemed to go on for a long time, me grabbing his arm indecisively pulling him towards me and pushing him away. I cannot remember if that is all, but I know the next thing was waking up blurry and delirious. I thought it could have been real, so many of dreams sometimes feel like that. But I was still in the messy smelly bedroom with James already clicking away at his Mactintosh.

Believe it or not I told James, a true testament to the communication in our relationship. (Of course this never crossed my mind when I was caught up in my dream). I didn’t tell him the identity of Bob, but I told him how I wanted it to happen in the dream, and everything I have written thus far. We have never spoken of “cheating” amongst the hundreds of other issues we deal with. However it was always known that James would be upset, and I would decide my feelings upon understanding the situation. To be honest I always say he should get more “girl” experience. But of course couldn’t happen, even though I always say it with the slightest bit of truth. However it wasn’t till this day that we had this conversation that I learned what James means by “upset”. To him it’s “I am with this person, there is no one else”. To him this relationship is so sacred that there is no questioning it farther then dreams or thoughts one has about other people. However in an “open relationship” it would be different. Seems he is all in to the labels, the morality. For anyone else they can do whatever they want, but for him this is how it is. Which means of course I have to fit in. If I were to some how come in to the situation of kissing Bob or anyone else, and I did not make a concerted effort to stop, James would be over it, there would be no leeway or forgiveness, he says he would be utterly devastated. He’s entitled to feel this way, and by all means should feel this way.

But suddenly I grew very weary of our relationship. I grew sad, and distant. I started to think about Bob. I started to think about the fact that if that ever happened it would never be forgiven. Now I know I am choosing. If that moment ever came about I would have to consider all the facts that I had not before. Then I took a step back and realized that I was seriously considering my whole relationship and throwing it to the wind. That everything about a new apartment plans and crap for the future, suddenly they didn’t mean anything all because of the feeling I had in that dream. That feeling that suddenly emerged in that dream, that has always been digging deep in me since we met. It’s connected to that whole issue of “will this be the last person I ever kiss? Being here I risk never getting the full dating experience”.

I sat a while depressed in the messiness of our lives. I had to take James to work and finish up a bunch of research in the Cartography lab so I wasn’t able to really think much about crap anymore. Now it’s just this weak idea, that feels so good and so awful at the same time.

And I look at myself and say, “how selfish and goddamn evil I am, I am so evil”.

Read more...

I'mdrunk...im 21 and im sure i'll reagret this post later...

Read more...

So I said I would make a post about my Geography and Tourism class...

Mostly I am torn between things. I want to travel, but how do I do it sustainably, responsibly, etc. The commoditization of culture is truely a frightening concept. We pay to see "Primitives" being primitive, even though the ceremony or craft that they can most of the time be completely phony! When is too much just too much! I really want people to travel, because it gives them a broader sense of existence. That other languages, customs and everything can be and usually is completely different then it is here in the US. People might actually realize how ignorant they really are and think globally. It seems tourism if carried out in a responsible fashion, taking in to account the local communities needs, wants, and privacy could actually be sustainable if done the right way, and be educational and beneficial to all sides participating. But unfortuneately it is a utopian ideal to believe that major companies would come in to a under-developed area and actually consider what the locals want, what the 1000 new toilets will do to that ecosystem will do, and whether the tourists themselves actually walk away with an organic real idea of what they have just experienced. Money as usual seems to drives most tourism these days.

I guess that I could go really far in to the detail about the pros and cons of different types of tourism, but I feel like I dont know what to say. Sometimes talking to someone else about things is easier then writing. I was supposed to write a response to a video and class discussion we had, but I just sat there. I coudlnt think of anything that hadn't been said. I nearly went bananas. In the end I printed a measely two pages worth of shit. I feel like if my teacher (who I really like) invited me to her office, I could just tell her all the things I know and feel about the video and class discussion, that writing it really didnt feel like the best communication to prove I know something.

Anyways now I am hyper sensitive to where I travel. Who will benefit and who will suffer by my coming to this country. Am I really getting an organic experience?

(Notice: I have painfully tried not to use the word authentic in this wee passage. I feel it is flawed in many ways when applying it to culture. As far as I am concerned culture is always changing, nothing is static and what was authentic in that time, may not be any longer. You cant expect under-developed places to escape globalization. Times changes, customs come and go. One doesnt go to Las Vegas to see the real Eifel tower, you go for the Las Vegas extraveganza! We can't expect things to stay the same. However this comes full circle, would it stay the same if explorers, reseachers, tourists stayed away? Again this is another reason I have a hard time in this class, it's all up in the air. But yea be careful with the word authentic, in my opinion)

Read more...

I've been doing a lot recently, in a good way.

Last weekend I saw Rob Crowe (from Pinback) live in the KBR room on campus. The show was pretty lame, he should just stick with Pinback as far as I am concerned. However the KBR is like the worst venue on campus!!!! We really need a forum for rock outfits. The crowd was miserable and the bands leading up to him sucked. Howevewr the highlights included spending the night hanging out with Aleisha, and then later we ran in to Galen... So over all I had a good night out.

The next morning Galen invited us to go birding, but aleisha was too hung over to go. So Galen and his friend Larry picked me up at like 730, and we went to get their friend Megan. It was ass cold! I mean cold, we were out on the Eureka water front and it was freaking blowing up crazy wind, and storms and rainbows. But the birding tour went on...I have some pictures I will post on my Flickr page. I could go on and on about the state of the Eureka water front, but I think I could sum it up in one sentence, "neglected, trashed, polluted, but still a habitat for local and migrating birds", some of which we did see.

This past weekend, friday actually, Galen and I went up to Orick. It's about 30 minutes North of here. I swear to god things get prettier and wilder the farther north in the Pacific North West one goes. Anyways I am doing a research project on the Orick area for my Geographic Research and Writing class, and I needed to get my first glimpces and impressions of Orick, in other words a landscape analysis done. We ate at the Palm Cafe, which is next to a bight green motel, with palm trees and exotic dthings painted all over (now what is that doin in NorCal I dont know). Either way we had homemade black berry pie, and Galen told me of his Morroccon adventures over the new year. We hiked up at Lady Bird Johnson grove, somehow talked our way in to getting in to a closed down movie theater, bought 1$ beer from the local store (gotta spend in the local economy) and were shooed out of a biker bar filled with locals, smoke and dark corners. Either way the whole place was either kichy or broken down. Orick used to be a logging town, now its just a rest stop and happens to be where they built a state parks office building. So we shall see how this research paper turns out.

It's been crazy storms in and out of the area, dumping hail and rain, and generally freezing. Snow on the hills. James and I went to the local Finnish Bath house. It's my new favorite thing. You pay like $8 to sit in a private wooden tub for half and hour outside. The water is hot and the trees sway over you and protect you from the rain. They have a cafe and in the summer you can sit around the pond. It's so lovely, however I'm sure its nothing like a finnish bathing experience, Finland sounds like a cool place to visit.

I hate this type of blog post, where I just list off the crap I have been doing. It's nothing really insightful, but maybe one day i will look back and be able to remember for my own reference, screw everyone else.

Read more...

Caledonia

Caledonia, originally uploaded by skinnymalinkee.

I drew this while playing Dungeons and Dragons for the first time this past xmas....its a half-elf druid. Sigh I cant stop the nerdiness now, cept I dont think DND is for me-might have been a one time thing.

Read more...

I'm reading the autobiography of Benjamin Franklin for my history class. I was dreading it, however its not as awful as i thought it was going to be. It's actually interesting look into what life was like back then. I enjoy the writing because it is so much prettier then ours and rich. He actaully was a really neat guy, socially "advanced" on account of his time in Philidelphia with those quaking Quakers, and all the reading he did. If someone was writing our constitution and publishing pamphlets back then, I am glad it was Ben. Just thought I would say that if you have to read this, its really not that bad...so do it.

Read more...

On tuesday I was charged with posting 50 flyers all over campus. It took about an hour and half, but it was sooo satifying. Electric air pushed in storm clouds, with huge gusts of warm stormy wind. The depth of the sky seemed more grand then I had ever seen it. My favorite kind of weather...

Read more...

Dear blog readers!
I am here to apologize for not moderating my damn post comments. Especially Chad, if you ever read this! You made a bunch of comments on my New Zealand post (0ct 26, 06) which I never knew existed! I quite appreciate your comments, because you are from a totally outside point of view and that really unique compared to friends that I have who know more about me. So the comments are really important to me. I think thats why I love blogger so much, is when you post, it's usually about something important enough for you to sit down and say something, so the comments you get are on actual things that you care about, and are from people who you wouldnt expect, and are generally very very meaning full-does that make any sense?
love caitlin

Moving on, I cannot blame blogger-ignorance on the fact that I have completey ignored posting in a long period of time. Anyways I am back at school, nothing really new to report. I am taking 3 geogpraphy classes. Geography of Tourism, Computer Cartography, and Geographic Research and Writing. The Tourism class may be the subject of posts to come, since I am really into that topic. But I shall save it for anyother day, so that I can actually have more then one post!!!! World Of Warcrafts Buring Crusade came out recently, and so my life has been filled with meaningless hours spent leveling my Night Elf druid from 60-70. I think a little part of me, and perhaps those who are reading this faith within me, just died after I said that. Anyways I will make a post about the tourism class.

Read more...

She lived. And so it was that she came to understand things.
She placed her hands in the ground, like trees.
And there they stayed, rooted to the earth for eternity.
Opening her eyes flooded the plains, and she knew the water of her mother’s veins.
The moon guided her, churned her insides.
Sounds, words and music, brought order to chaos.
Sometimes freed her, taught her, allowed her to complete the circuits.
But not always.
Sometimes the chaos coursed up through the earth, through her hands, in to her very soul. Before long her eyes burst open wide.
All the light and all the darkness blasted outwards in to being.
Wild, simple, completely natural.

Read more...

List of things...
1) So I am digging this new stuff they did to Blogger.
2) My mum's internet is down, so lack of visits to my blog is excusable!
3) LA is freaking hot as hell.
4) Will be returning to Humboldt this weekend.
5) I do have a poem to post, but I am at my Dad's house, and it is on my laptop at my mum's internet-less house.
6) I am a bad friend person, I don't call anyone.
7) In spending time with my parents, I have come realize where many things I do not like about myself came from.
8) Seeing my family get old, including my dog, is, well, frightening.
9) I am entirely unfit, even though I have lost weight, I feel seized and my joints hurt after walking too far.
10) I bought running shoes, god knows why, I must make use of them, get in to shape.
11) I dont think we will be going anywhere exotic this summer, most likely we'll get an apartment, like we originally planned.
12) I got no less then B's fall semester, wtf is that, not that I am complaining.
13) James can hardly get a moments peace from me, with out a struggle, I blame this on myself entirely.
14) I can't wait to get back to the wilderness.

Read more...