Wednesday, September 30, 2009

This is where I have been lately. I've been doing so much thinking that I can't get my thoughts straight. I have a head so full of so many things, I'm drowning in a mass of blurry thoughts. It's like I can't see the world around me, it's passing by at such a speed that I can't keep up with everything happening around me, and within me.

When I lay in bed at night, reading a book, listening to classical music on my clock radio (the same clock radio I grew up with; my retainer used to sit on top of that thing) I catch a glimpse of who I really am. At least, I see who I used to be, a girl so lost and far behind, but a girl that is still in my heart somewhere. I just have to slow down, allow the inspiration to seep in, and I can breathe. When I can breathe, I can remember, and I become sad.

I remember a girl, so full of life it brought on her demise. One year of intense happiness. I remember Adam, Kevin, Erin, Kelly, Drew, Wes, Matt... I remember a white leather couch, a basement in a house under construction. The Kids in the Hall and Portishead, I remember being afraid, and fear that made me so happy I trembled. I remember the gas fire, me still in my wool winter coat, tears dripping, wetting my hair, and then wishing it had been worse.

I remember passion; I had so much. Laying on my bed back at home listening to Bjork on repeat with visions of a film I was desperate to make, but always too afraid. I still have my notebook which holds all of those inner ideas. Creating scenes for photographs, black and white, the smoke from an incense stick, burning in front of the old slide projector on my bed, but the smoke never smoked enough, and the bulb eventually burned out, though years later.

Who was I then? These passions which propelled me forward through life, turned into jealousy, craziness, the loss of friends, the desire for pain. I have not been able to escape that since. I have lived off of self doubt for 11 years, and I fear that it's turning into irreparable anger. The lines in my face are not a worry of mine, but for the reason that they are there. Where has my laughter gone? I need to find her again before it's too late. I need to find the lost girl who loved too much, locked in her chamber, with the kindest blue eyes he'd ever seen.

Photos: Elena Kalis

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Here is a question:
http://rhubarbpie.typepad.com/rhubarb/2009/12/someone-wants-our-advice-yay.html

Here is an answer:
http://rhubarbpie.typepad.com/rhubarb/2009/12/no-copying-sherry-you-have-to-write-your-own.html

I read this post of yours a while ago and I think about it sometimes. I've lost friends suddenly and harshly in the past and felt horrible about it for years, too. I hope this person's advice helps a bit.

crispy said...

Thank you so very much for sharing!
xoxo