Thanks Gavin DeGraw...

Oh, this is the start of something good
Don't you agree?
I haven't felt like this in so many moons
You know what I mean?
And we can build through this destruction
As we are standing on our feet
So, since you want to be with me
You'll have to follow through
With every word you say
And I, all I really want is you
You to stick around
I'll see you everyday
But you have to follow through
You have to follow through
These reeling emotions they just keep me alive
They keep me in tune
Oh, look what I'm holding here in my fire
This is for you
Am I too obvious to preach it?
You're so hypnotic on my heart
So, since you want to be with me
You'll have to follow through
With every word you say
And I, all I really want is you
You to stick around
I'll see you everyday
But you have to follow through
You have to follow through
The words you say to me are unlike anything
That's ever been said
And what you do to me is unlike anything
That's ever been
Am I too obvious to preach it?
You're so hypnotic on my heart
So, since you want to be with me
You'll have to follow through
With every word you say
And I, all I really want is you
(For) you to stick around
I'll see you everyday
But you'll have to follow through
With every word you say
An I, all I really want is you (For) you to stick around
I'll see everyday
But you have to follow through
You have to follow through
You're gonna have to follow
Oh, this is the start of something good
Don't you agree?
[ Follow Through Lyrics ]

Five for Fighting brings out the sad part of me

It's nothing I planned and not that I can, but you should me mine across that line

If I traded it all, if I gave it ALL away for ONE thing....

If I sorted it out, if I knew all about this one thing

Wouldn't that be something?

Even though I know I don't wanna know, yeah I guess I know, I just hate how it sounds...

I am so tired of trying to make it work, to make you see that I need to be more for me. I need you to TRY to dream, to want to do ANYTHING. Any single thing at all. But there is no motivation, no passion. Not even for me. And then what? Am I supposed to live like this, to wait and see what happens? It is so unlike me to sit around. I am proactive while you want to sit still. Well, if you're going to watch your life go by, I am sorry but I am NOT.

You told me once that you were afraid of my "prowess" and that I would leave you behind. I said "I'd never do that". But "if you run with me" was an implied part.

I was free, so alive... you were wrong, you were right. I was sharp. I was wrong. I was right.

This can't be a suicide romance. I know where I am going, yet you don't. How can you get there, anywhere with me?

I am afraid this is the beginning of the end. Our end. I promised to love you forever. To be there for you. And I want to. SO much. But you don't. You're not making the effort. The least. It's not easy to fight alone for the both of us. Not easy...

I'm tired of the silly guilt games and the tears shed. I can't take it much longer.

I feel my inspiration seeping away from my soul. I don't feel like singing, dancing, dressing up! I don't feel like doing anything ME when we're together. It's not easy. I am in over my head. I want to get OUT and BREATHE!

I don't want to be 99 and dying for more time to accomplish the things I couldn't because you held me back.

New Year's Resolutions

Hey, it is my 22nd bday, and I have officially decided I can do whatever the hell I want so, I hereby declare that I will no longer make resolutions with everyone else at the end of the year, instead I will make them when I complete another year of my life, meaning, my birthday is my new year's day! At least it is a little more personalized!

So, my new year's resolutions as of now are:

1. Stop putting myself down, and believe in myself

2. Never ever ever ever EVER ask if I look fat. I don't want to know.

3. Don't ask "you think I shouldn't have eaten that?"

4. Do ChiKung every morning as soon as I wake up (unless of course it is thundering outside or if Auntie Flo is visiting)

5. Do kung fu basics every morning (following chikung when it fits, or by itself when chikung is not an option) and practice the forms at lease every other day. and stretch.

6. Find 30 minutes a day at least to go out for a walk or run (or in case it is raining skip some rope inside)

7. Join a Gym to learn new things and keep myself busy in case it is snowing 8(

8. Practice more of my singing (every other day to keep my vocal chords healthy)

9. Go back into drawing occasionally. It does me a lot of good.

10. Eat healthier. Dessert and red meat only once a week.

11. Get my degree in personal training. And USE it.

12. Audition, audition, audition. "Never retreat, never surrender"

13. Make Tim happy.

Thirteen is a lucky number, so I will keep it at that. Some of these things I have tried, but couldn't quite keep true to in the past. Maybe all I needed was a new beginning. And I am tired of thinking that my life is coming to an end. It is only the beginning. So I will face every single day as a challenge, a dare, and I will not fear failure for it is inevitable, Instead I shall embrace it as a gift that simply shows me that I have to try again.

As for my dreams, I will get there. I will audition and try until I succeed. I will accomplish my goals, follow my dreams and I will wish upon that star. It will only do me more good to believe in myself.

Once I doubted myself and I wound up with sorrow and self pity. Why? If I believe in myself it doesn't mean I am conceited, it just means I am confident. "Some people say that modesty a virtue....but in the theatre modesty can hurt you..."

If you got it, flaunt it. Let the whole world see what you're about!!

World, here I come.

The Naked House

Nothing hurts like a naked, stripped house. A house I spent so many of my summers in, even winters. I remember going for a swim in the freezing swimming pool and daring my sister to jump in first then push her. So many sunsets at the mountain top I took for granted. And somehow, at that moment, I realized it was my last sunset there. I didn't try to fight the tears that started streaming down my cheeks, even though they pinched my skin cold as the wind blew my hair everywhere. His presence was crucial. I would have cried much more had he not have been there by my side in that old rusty swing, holding my hand. And still the emptiness that filled me was hard to obscure. An almost empty house was the one we walked back into, and the dog that would be left behind (or given away?) was there for me to look at with pained eyes as I noticed that I never petted him enough before. "You don't know what you got till it's gone" hurts like a bitch. I wish I could take him with me on my journey away, and as I looked at his puppy face I thought he wished it too. I wish I had sneaked more food for him under the table. I wish I had gone for more walks and trails. I wish I had taken more pictures. I wish I had sunbathed more. I wish so many things that I never knew I had in me that it scared me into thinking I lost a piece of myself in that house, and now that we were leaving I didn't have any more time to look for it. All I knew as I said goodbye, was that I was crying again for a piece of my history that will never be forgotten; those memories from that painting-worthy sunlit day are all I can take with me now. The memories of that now naked house.

Shots, boots and other stories

This moving-and-getting-married thing is tougher than I thought. I've recently learned that I need several shots to be able to be accepted by the government into the country. Out of these I've taken two, with the result of a light fever and a lot of pressure pain in my left arm, which in turn left me lazy to go to kung fu due to the pain it causes me. Bummer. Although I did manage to manipulate my beloved into giving me a pair of shoes for each new hole the doctors manage to poke in me. Ha-ha. I feel better already.

I am a little exasperated, nonetheless, because of all this visa work. I mean, it shouldn't be so hard for two people that love each other to be together, you know?? Are they trying to avoid "racial" mix, by trying to force people to be apart? As in "there is nothing you can't find in america" or "there sure is someone else for you closer to home"? It is not fair, and it is bound to take a while for my visa to be expedited. I am losing patience. If only it wasn't SO worth it.

Love is a Sickness

Love is a sickness beyond all others. It makes us stupid, ashamed and dumb. Makes us remain in poisonous relationships, because we simply refuse to believe the will not fail. But they do. What is the hope that people see in this feeble commitment? It is a sickness and should be treated like so. A sickness of the body, a sickness of the mind, a sickness of the soul. Some reckon shock treatment would be required. And say, if you suffer a shock, even a small one, you know your heart skips a beat and the feelings falter. How many shocks it takes to forget someone is determined solely by the intensity of the feelings the couple "cherishes" more like are imprisoned in. When love is no longer a choice, when a person becomes a need. That is when it's gone too far and should be expelled wholly out of the system, no matter what it takes. It will always result on someone suffering, one more than the other. It is a matter of how strong you are to take the first step toward freedom and pull the evil by the root, where it will have no chance to grow or flourish again. Foolish love, sickening. I am tired, gaunt and ragged by being trapped into this curse for this long, and I don't know how I can be persuaded to pursue it further into this depth of anger and misery fed with feeble lies and excuses. I don't want to find anyone else, but I don't want to be where I am lately. 

I might change my mind about this later since this is a particular angry rant due to the fact I am so livid because my fiancee treats me like scum every time one of his friends is around, and leaves me home to wait for him ALL THE TIME, and also partially due to the fact that I am bleeding from the knuckles of my right hand from severe punching of walls and doors that finally splintered and bruised me with proud cuts that I refuse to tend to. I wish this physical pain could distract me from the pains you are causing me every day.

Choice

God only knows what I'd do if I had no remorse. 

I woke up today and wished I had no conscience

no annoying little voice telling me I'm wrong

Then I'd wrench my heart out of your filthy grasp

And mend it on my own

I wished I could do you harm, hurt you more than ever

let you feel the pain inside me, but my heart wonders

How much more I can take before I crack

How much more I can hope before I run away screaming

For freedom, for love, for freedom

To fly once more, to hunt, to live

Outside your greedy hands 

Deceived me, I did

I thought love was the way out

It was the way in to a tight cage of pain and regret

I cannot take the arguing, the anguish

My heart longs to fly again

To be happy at last

The bruises on my knuckles let me not forget

Punching holes in walls once calmed me

now they build up to the amount of pain I wish to cause you

to make you realize, stupid

that ALL I wanted once was to be with you

Grey

Another day, another argument, another struggle, another disappointment, another miserable grey rain. Somehow it seems the more I try to pick myself up the more I fall apart. The more I hold on to some things, the more they squirm out of my grasp. I would give up, and yesterday I nearly did give up on us. We worked out through it, but today I had the feeling I needed to feel like I did yesterday again. Why you treat me like scum, I might never know. I just wish you would stop trying to impress your friends and pretending that you are too "cool" for me while you leave me behind to strut what you think you have. 

If you can't treat me the same way when we are alone and when we are in company, I guess I don't want you to treat me at all. It is always rather confusing to me the way things work in your head, and I can't seem to get through to you. It is always the same mistakes, and I refuse to get used to being miserable because of you. 

Thanks for another rainy grey day.

Cleaning Day

How is it I feel so good every time I set out a "Cleaning Day"? And this particular day can never be pre scheduled, if so I'd ditch it and find some other thing to do. I have to wake up in the mood for it. Today just happened to be one of those days. I woke up, looked around my messy bedroom and had an itch. I was disgusted at how I had let not only my room, but myself, go to that point. I had a reason, though, I had doctors orders to stay in bed and avoid strain and exercise as much as possible so my wisdom teeth "holes" could heal. Anyhow, I know it is no excuse, so I got up, filled a large bucket with a detergent/antibacterial mix, pulled down the bottles of windex, furniture polish and picked out an assortment of old rags, a broom, a mop and a shovel, and got to it. 

AHA, you would think I merely cleaned. That is where you would be mistaken. Having all the cleaning aids at my service, I barricaded myself in my room by putting stuff in front of the door, and opened the wardrobe. Pulling out all the shirts, I refolded them and put them back. Took everything off the hangers and decided to fold the jeans instead of hanging them, thereby leaving lots more space for all my jackets and dresses. Then I moved on to the dreadful shoe rack, where I piled in a bag in the corner all those shoes I no longer use/need, to give them away to charity, and then re-organized them by style. I proceeded to the bags and only then to all my countless books, sketch books and piles of yarn. Then it was cosmetics, makeup and perfumes. Only after I was done with organizing every inch of my room I started the cleaning. It was nearly 10 am by then.

I removed the bed sheets, put them to wash, put all the decorations on my naked bed, and dusted and polished all the shelves (seven), the drawer, the bookshelf, the desk and the nightstand. Then I swept the floor, vacuumed, moped it, moped it again, cleaned the wall to ceiling mirror, windexed the windows and dusted every single decoration before restoring them where they belonged. Oooh, I febreezed the couch, the mattress, the pillows, the cushions and the curtains as well. I felt so dirty after all this cleaning that I drew myself a hot bath, complete with tangerine and green tea oils, scented bubbles and candles. 

I feel so fresh and renewed now that I believe I can start anything in the morning. It is definitely the perfect day to resume my routine of morning yoga followed by chi kung. 

In the end, I guess everything is better without all the clutter. 

Silence

This day was quite different than the day before. Not in respect to me, but the layout of the day in general. Perhaps because there was a dreadful storm, but after it died down, everything was the utmost quiet. As I laid in bed gazing at the ceiling, all I could hear were the noises from inside the house which, strangely, was quiet as it never were. I could hear people's footsteps in the corridor, the faint distant clanking of dishes in the kitchen, some understandable muttering coming from the television in my brother's room, even the cats opening the doors to sneak in. Outside, every once in a while I could hear a car speeding by. Nothing more. At first I thought there was something wrong with my hearing, so I made an extra effort to recognize where the sounds were coming from. Since they were faint and distant, I figured my hearing was just fine. 

I haven't been listening to much music as of late, somehow. I don't feel like it, I guess. Nothing new to my ears, the inspiration from it dies off after such a long time listening to the same tunes. My brand new ipod lays practically new and unused stashed deep inside my bag. And as I lay there listening to nothing, watching the colours of the ceiling change as the sun sets behind a number of grey buildings that hide the horizon, I wish there was something I wanted to listen to. I just lay there, though, dully, not even bothering to get up and turn on the light as my room turns into mere dark shapes. But I do not. I stay put, letting the drowsiness of the silence wash over me. I had forgotten how peaceful the city could be. 

Living, naturally.

I feel slightly stupid every so often for thinking about things that no one cares about, no one else ponders about. Ever. And why do I do that? It is just one of those things that come to you when you are stuck inside for so long. Huh, it is ridiculous after all. I ran out of yarn so I cannot finish the crochet purse I was making, playing blue version pokemon can only entertain one so far and sudoku is getting me cross eyed. S'pose I could be reading, but that is what I have been doing most in this year. Drawing, well, let's just say the inspiration eludes me. Being stuck is a bother. I wish I could've gone training, alas I am still swollen and the skies are painted a wretched shade of purple and gray due to the ongoing storm that has taken up all afternoon so far. The ghastly wails of the wind make me shiver though the windows are shut tight, and watching the cats sleeping lazily nearby only add to the monotony my life has become for a few days.

A little rant

I have often thought that "a new life" was what I needed, but indeed now that I face that very opportunity I dread it. I like the life I live, but perhaps it is necessary that I change a tad. I have been doing pretty much something that I have always wanted to: dedicating my life to training, no school, no work. Yes, when I put it down, it does seem that a change is in place. It is something I love, yet not my dream. In my dream I break the walls of what seems to me to be my plausible reality, creating a new world for me and those around me, not only changing myself. Every change creates a chain of reactions, and so everything changes. 

I guess what I've been trying to say is, why am I dreading the change that I have always wanted to make? To get away from the people that bring me down and don't believe in my potential. I have to focus on my goal, and see this as an opportunity to grow rather that being taken away from the things I love, also because I am going to be with the one that I love the most. I guess I am just afraid, reasonably. 

"Find a happy place" I keep telling myself. I guess I've just been feeling a little "blah" since I am forced to be in bed due to a bad wisdom tooth I removed a couple of days ago... but maybe I can sneak into training tomorrow... hah! Mom would surely find it amusing. I just can't stop counting down the number of days I have left to train! It is driving me mad! And I AM NOT OBSESSED! Damn it. 

Haaaa, feels good to get it all out of my chest like that. Huh. I better go back to what I was doing before I had the urge to spill my anger in words that formed sentences with no specific meaning at all.

Laters!

To my second family...

You got a whole lot left to say now 

You knocked all your wind out 

You just tried too hard and you froze 

I know, I know 

What to say, what to say 

Just take the fall 

You're one of us 

The spotlight is on 

(Ahh ahh) 

Oh the spotlight is on, oh 

You know the one thing you're fighting to hold 

Will be the one thing you've got to let go 

And when you feel the wall cannot be burned 

You're gonna die to try what can't be done 

Gonna stay stay out but you don't care 

Now is there nothing like the inside of you anywhere 

Oh just take the fall 

You're one of us 

The spotlight is on 

(Ahh ahh) 

Oh the spotlight is on, yeah it's on 

Because everyone would rather watch you fall 

And we all are, yeah 

And we all are, yeah 

Just take a fall 

You're one of us 

The spotlight is on 

(Ahh ahh) 

Oh the spotlight is on 

(Just take the fall) 

Now you're one of us 

Now you're, (oh) now you're, (oh) now you're, (oh) now you're one of us 

Now you're, (oh) now you're, (oh) now you're one of us 

Oh the spotlight is on 

(Ahh ahh)

Amazing lyrics, and yet, I fight to grasp the meaning of it, and feel it pounding inside my head at the top volume my ipod goes, close my eyes and just feel it. 

I am fighting to hold on to the thing that in a couple of months I will have to let go, but not entirely. I will have to leave behind my family, my friends (well, the few ones that live here) and my second family, the Academia Sino Basileira. To all the people I am leaving behind in the training hall, I will miss you dearly, miss training with you, jumping, kicking, running, fighting till we drop, sweaty, tired and sore, to the cold stone ground we train on. I have the impression it's been long, but not too long since I first walked in there. Sick, tired, skinny and helpless. Thomaz, you taught me a lot, you are the big brother that I never had. Charles, one of my best friends, you taught me so much, not only of kung fu and daoism, but of myself and what it means to be true to what I believe in. I will always cherish the time I spent there, along with these people and other people that did not last too long. Six years, I suppose it is a heck of a long time, almost a third of my life. But now it is time to move on, move away. This is the right choice. I cannot be away from the love of my life, and I will not be away from the Way, from kung fu, or from training. But being away from the place I spent most of these six years is hard. The place i was most comfortable in hands down, the place I learned more about myself, the place I grew up in. Not that I will ever grow up really, but you know what I mean. I will miss the clock whose hands move slower than any other clock in the world, miss the cold stony floor where I laid on broken after "relaxation", miss the weapons on the wall, my bent spear and crooked broadsword. Miss the bench I slept on countless times. Miss the burning hot tea. Everything it encloses, the secrets, the moments, my past. Thank you all for taking me in when no one else believed in me, thanks for teaching me to be myself. Thanks for teaching me to never give up.

ShieShie.

Who I am vs Who I've been

In preschool I was the girl playing soccer with the boys. In elementary, I was the girl doodling idly on her notebook, looking out the window, being told off by the teacher in order to pay attention. In middle school I was the "alien", the foreign student, that struggled to fit in without any success. In high school I found my niche and was the skinny smart bookworm that cried every time I got anything less than an A and lent the homework for my friends to copy. In College I was the ONLY girl. (Games Design... really?) Today I am the girl that goes to the Kung Fu Dojo everyday, sings all the bloody time and I have my nose stuck in either a book or a sudoku puzzle half my free time. Guess I have always been a tad different, in more ways than one. Weird, perhaps. Still, all I ever was I still am and will be in a way, always changing and yet strangely the same. I keep the old dreams close to my heart, you know, the ones every one is pretty much born with, the ones that make you cry if you think about not achieving them. The ones that keep you awake on some lonely Tuesday night, and that you can't shake off. Sure, I may be getting older, but I know that I am never growing up. One good thing about it is that I can be as stubborn as a three year old that wants to follow her dream, and no one can get in my way and tell me I can't. Because I can. I can almost feel the stars clutched in my fists, and I am holding on for dear life. I will follow my dreams. Just watch me.

Cause and Consequence

Just take a fall...

Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Everything we do, we pay for. Even the good. We can't always measure the extent of our actions. Don't even try. Believe me. But sometimes rather than others, we simply forget the cause for something and are left with but the dubious consequences of actions we never remember taking. What to do then? Make amends? How?

Sometimes a letter says more than what it does, with hidden meanings behind the very words that compose them... Words composing life, how ironic. We compose words and their repercussion composes our future. Be very careful with what you say. Don't lie to yourself. Mean it. Every time. Avoid misunderstandings and never assume anything. All is easier said than done.

I think about it sometimes. Not all the time, indeed, but every once in a while. I've tried not thinking about the past. Letting things be. But every once in a while I have the urge to move things around again, replace the lost and throw away the harmful. It is enough to say that I should never think about this. But I did. And now it is spiraling once again. I am sorry. I did not throw it away... yet. Will I ever? Nothing can be done.

Maybe this rant is triggered by my recent moving fit. I have so many old notebooks/diaries/notes/letters... I want to throw all of them away. But some of them, a precious few, I can't bring myself to put in the trash, in the past. Why? It would be all too good, having more space in my luggage for when I move. Clear my head by getting rid of the clutter. I should. Definitely, but why can't I?

Enough of this chatter. I need to get a move on with my life. Move ahead for once, instead of the ever tinier circles I have been drawing around myself. I want to get somewhere for a change. For a chance. For my own good. Here's to the future. *puts old letter in the trash*

Priorities and how I got to think about it

Just a girl trying, once again, too hard to be good at everything I do. I go left, go right, go back, but never ever get anywhere in particular, and nowhere near where I truly wanted to be. But how to get there? How to choose one single thing to follow? How to choose a dream, one of a thousand I'd dream every night.

Today, in this special crappy day, I'd realized something, as I went to one of my favourite places in the world and it crossed my mind "what the f*ck am I doing here?"; and how could I think anything else? Everyone there is so good. It never crossed my mind that it was because that is all they ever do. It is their priority. They gave everything up, well, maybe they didn't give anything up, for it was their dream. Maybe they never had a chance to dream other dreams. Maybe they did. But they made a choice and never looked back. I could never give anything up. Perhaps I should start. 

Adrian told me, and he is (or was?) just like me. Had to do everything, and do it perfectly. It is so stressful, he said. And once he chose what he was going to do, it made it all easier. He knew exactly what he had to do to get where he wanted, and it was in one point of focus. Easy. All he had to do is give up everything else. I can do it. Right. 

Moving... to another country. Easy, right? Maybe easier because Tim is going to be there with me, helping me anyway he can, not to be miserable. And I could never be miserable when I am with him. At least I don't think so. Not right now. Not ever.

Maybe all I need is in fact this change... this going away, getting away from all that influences me to make certain choices, certain random things I usually do out of habit. If I get out of my natural habitat, I can no longer be a creature of habit, can I? Of course, I will develop new habits, new hobbies, but it won't be the same, will it? 

Somehow I feel a tinge of hope, a small sliver of something oddly coming true, something new happening. I want to go to college again, audition, follow a dream. My dream. If only money wasn't an issue, if only I won the frikkin lottery. That would be sweet. But that is a dream with, I want to think less chance, but maybe it's the same chance, of coming true. 

And regardless of where I end up, if I aim high, I've got to land high as well, so says Charles. He is one of the people with the best insights on my life, but one that never ever tried to influence me towards something I did not desire to begin with. Even when I chose to take the chance at Wushu, and I know (as everyone else does) that he hates it. Completely. He still said "Well, if that's what you want...". Suddenly it is not what I want. I am getting tired of the injuries and the hits I take on my self esteem every time someone else does something amazing that I am years away from. It somehow was different with Shaolin. I used to fit in, even though I was right in the middle of the age groups. Everyone else that does it is either much younger or much older than me. But they all look my age, the older ones. I guess Kung Fu has that effect on people. It keeps you from aging. 

Thursday was the most amazing training day... Charles, Apu and Jaime were all helping me at the same time, hilarious! Well, I guess you could say Apu was just nodding and watching, but he is a judge, and he will be a judge in the competition April 11th. A competition I will have to forfeit due to my Wisdom Surgery. F*uck, I am scared sh*tless of this. Plus, I never ever wanted to have my face swollen like a basketball again! It was bad enough when I had the mumps last year and was in bed for 20 f*cking days. Enough is 'nough. 

And so, I guess the overall message is that, even if training is my priority now -- I am well aware of the fact that the club where I am moving sucks, so I will have to open my own or something -- it may not be my priority later, neither it should be. But I know that, some way or the other, it will always be a part of my life. It keeps me sane. And if I somehow lose the tiny bit of sanity left in me, I will end up in a padded room. Seriously.

Immortality?

Seems I am rather influenced by things I read. I get aggravated and anxious and hyper. Reading Twilight made me thing a lot about aging and death, obviously because the vampires are immortal. And since it is only a book, there is no point for me to be grasping at the idea. 

SO, as I was laying in my bed, trying desperately to fall asleep, it came to me. How to be immortal, in a way at least, and it came through the form of Audrey Hepburn, who, unfortunately died some years ago, but is forever young and beautiful in Breakfast at Tiffany's. That's it! It hit me so unexpectedly that I almost didn't believe how easy it was, and how convenient. It is already my dream to be in movies, theatre, and such artistic things, this will make my will my strength to succeed even more unshakeable, more fierce. As if I needed more inspiration. Now I will be unstoppable, believe me, I will make it. I have to. There are few things in the world I want as much as this, and I can't wait to get started. I know that for now I am but an amateur, I've never really focused much on being good at one thing, I always tried to do everything and more, but no one can be good at everything. All I've had to do all along is focus. I never knew on what, and I've never considered giving somethings up, but for this, well, I can make some sacrifices.

And it also helps immensely that the love of my life, Tim, believes in me and is willing to go through this with me. Looks to me like since he strolled in my life, everything started falling into place, finally. I was broken, somehow, and deep down I knew it. Making wrong choices was sort of my favourite sport. But now, he is the voice of reason in my head. He is the right choice. I wouldn't have it any other way. Now I can see clearly, I have no reason to be afraid.

And if I cry a little, die a little, at least I'll know I've lived. 

Escape

I am getting so tired, and it certainly is not because I have been barely sleeping. Somehow, I seem like I am frail, weak. Tired is certainly not the worst part, then. I am sick of this. All the arguing, suffering, demand. I truly hate the way my family always seems to be arguing... maybe it's something in the atmosphere? My house, I suppose, always had this gloom about it. It is hard to feel at home here. Very hard. Perhaps it is the very reason I fall asleep better at the gym, on it's cold, hard, stone floors. The cold there seems warmer than most nights in my bed. 

I hear the arguments building up right now. Right next door to my room. I want to mute it, make it go away, but I can't. It seems that I don't really care anymore. It doesn't touch me as it should, as it did the beginning. All the pressure, to be a family. To be close. It is probably the reason why it fails. Instead of waiting for us to be genuine about it, closeness is forced upon us, and it takes the opposite direction. At least I know that I long for my own time, my space.

I didn't sleep yesterday. I couldn't. I was reading. The story seemed more interesting than my life at the moment, a life I would like to live, someday. I have always been a dreamer. I looked up at the alarm clock on the nightstand, counting as the hours passed, wondering when it'd be okay to wake up. I did not feel tired. Not tonight. I furiously flipped through the pages, wanting to know more, and yet afraid of the end. I knew it was approaching with every chapter that I eagerly read through, but I didn't stop myself. I couldn't. Then it was the end. 

It was now nine in the morning, and I still was not tired. I got up, stretched a little. My bed usually makes my back hurt. Headed to the kitchen, then mum and dad where there. I tried to sound gleeful. I thought I'd failed, but they bought it. I was eager to talk to someone about the book, and I took the misstep of telling them what I'd been up to. Bad move. The scolding came, from dad, obviously, as always. He glared and said I was obsessed with that book. That is not true at all. Im obsessed with escaping the boring reality that surrounds me when Tim is away. 

Tim, I knew all to well, would probably laugh it off, but feel kind of like that. Like he did yesterday when he came back from his run, and found I was still awake when I answered his lovely little note in skype with a call. He always worried about me too much. Maybe I gave him reason to. When we are away, I am often not my cheerful, silly, bubbly self. I tend to be glum and depressed, crying easily. Crying a lot. Easy. 

It is amazing to think that only a few days ago, I was sobbing against his chest, shaking and scared. Another departure. Why did I always have to be the one that left, the one that had to get on that stupid plane? I decided, I hate airports. Unless I am on my way to seeing him again. Then they're my favourite place in the world. 

But it is impossible to stalk from memory that before I was sobbing helplessly, trying to get a last glimpse at his lovely face waving me farewell, I was genuinely happy. All those days I've recently spent in Dekalb could not have gone by faster, but it seemes like longer than it actually had been, we were getting so much stuff done. 

Unlike the other times we were together, this time I did not cry everyday weeks before I left with anticipation of the pain that would certainly be in my heart. "I may be getting used at leaving" I told him, one day, my face dry, still. "It's because you know this is the last time you have to leave" he replied to me, tentatively. I gave in to his sweet little smile and pecked him on the lips, as we lay on the couch in my hotel room. It was a moment I did not want to let go of.

Now, I am waiting. Waiting for my real life to begin again. Sure, I love training. More than most things I have ever done, but I don't love it more than I love him. So, seventy three days doesn't seem like long, to most, but it feels like an eternity to me right now. All that I really have to look forward to these couple of months before he gets here is training, training and training. The gym always seems to numb any pain I feel - is it because it saved my live, or because of the people there that know me better than most, I don't know - but I can only stay there so long, and surely enough, as I hear that song, that I stubbornly keep in my ipod  - maybe I am masochistic? - the tears will stream down my face.

But I know, I hope, that when we are finally truly together, forever, things will fall into place. I will feel better, whole. I will fulfill my purpose. In 73 days?

Dammit

My leg is cramped, my foot is getting infected (don't ask how), I've been limping all day and I have a lot of things to do today, OUTSIDE. I had to go pick mom's shoes up, go to the warehouse, hit the yarn shop AND go to kung fu. Dammit dammit dammit. Just because I have to train and am finally getting remotely good at it (training, that is). This kind of stuff always happens when I get overly excited about things. Suppose I'll be packing all day today then, and maybe study somewhat. But sh*t, I really wanted to go to KF... Now that I've started the compulsory. 

On a side note, I've been reading a lot of stuff on gardening and herbs and such housing things and I've learned that I need to learn SO MUCH! It's not going to be easy to have my own place, I guess I have been overlooking it all along. I hope I make a good wife...

Procrastination

Just taking some time off cleaning my room... listening to the brilliant Jason Mraz, and thinking about life as I know it and how it is most likely to change a lot during the course of this year... getting married, moving out of the country, having my own apartment, getting another job, changing dojos, my oh my, sometimes it seems overwhelming for a girl to handle alone. Thankfully I wont be alone... and the plans I've been making, I almost feel greedy for wanting it all, but as they say, "you're only as big as your dreams". And since I seem to make lists in my sleep, I have it all figured out in my head, this and next year. But I know that life is what happens to us when we are busy making other plans, so I will keep them as more of a guideline instead of a schedule. But I will keep in mind that we create our future in the present, with the past as proof and school. Damn, I'm out-of-my-head excited! 

Well, better get back to cleaning before I lose my hours and have to go to Kung Fu...

Toodle-oo

A cry of relief!!!

Damn, man, holy, aaaahhhhh... It is so good to be finally able to breathe in again. After almost a week grieving over the loss of this precious baby (my beloved blog) I finally got it back!! And I feel rather stupid for having forgot about it, oh, well, it is not like people read this anyways. I just am so glad to have it back that I even might start posting again, soon, like, now is a good time. 

So many thing have been going on in my life, so many plans... and yesterday, as I saw the Oscars, I cried, I laughed. I thought Hugh Jackman is the BEST HOST EVER! He truly is, I don't care if people disliked his musical singing and dancing fits, I thought it all very handsomely done and adorable in it's own sexy way. What can I say, I love musicals. On to fashion, Jolie was incredible, sleek, simple and sexy. The emerald earrings she was wearing were to die for, and brought out her handsome features even more. Kate Winslet will forever be my favourite actress of all time, partially because she is one of the few under a certain age that don't appear to have a weight problem. She is still gorgeous, I don't care what the critics (ahem, anorexics) say. Natalie Portman was stunning in that bold pinkish violet colour. For a woman that can be bald and still look beautiful, I vote she can pull off anything. Miley Cirus.... uh, it's not like I have a grudge, but her dress was... well... 

In another note, I felt sort of bad for Meryl Streep... she is brilliant, and the fact that she has 15 nominations proves it. Maybe someone has a grudge. And, Oh. My. God. I gave a shriek of relief when Heath Ledger won his best supporting Actor. I knew it. But it is always different when it actually happens. 

And all the glamour, glitter, gold... the Academy Awards most certainly are a fairy tale, a dream come true, as you may. Meanwhile, I'll be content with a shampoo bottle, I guess. Hey, no one said I couldn't dream. 

<3

The happiest day of my life?

Such a happy occasion should not bring me an equal amount of stress and despair, yet it seems inevitable. I should of course be looking forward detailing this most joyous of all events, yet I put out any mention of the event it self, for it seems to frustrate me irrationally instead of pleasing me and enticing me to do more than what I am currently. Yet, planning such event at such a distance, having to look through pages and pages of sites dedicated to it, seeing with my very eyes the tastelessness some people, if I dare not say own, I should say endure, is creeping me out of having such disappointments on my own. About to become dizzy with all the glitter, flowers, photographers, venues, receptions, caterers, I should faint this instant. Yet the love I feel for the one to whom I am getting married, makes me struggle to go on and to at least, look again, once or twice or a million more times, in order to find something accessible, tasteful, elegant and sophisticated, alas I cannot win. The anguish is in such depth I dread the mention of the subject, to a point where I can be barely civil towards who made the remarks, and seeing myself bound to apologize once I have recollected my composure. Why does this most happy of occasions have to have such complications involved? Furthermore, I feel I should settle for what is prompt and rejoice on the single fact that I am getting married to my best friend, and that it is a mere rite of passage which will, under the view of society, allow us to properly start a life together. I must now admit that he is a patient one, surely, for since this planning took place I am in constant frustration and rather desperate mood swings, yet he takes it all with all the tenderness he always has. He wants me to be happy on what is to be the happiest day of my life, and make it exactly what I have always picture, though I have told him it is unlikely because of what I have always dreamed of seems much simpler than all this is becoming, and it is interesting that it is the hardest thing to do where he lives. I just didn't want to settle for something much less than perfect for the most perfect day I should life to date. Scared, disappointed and confused as I am this moment, I shall say no more, and let it be what will.