A wild sleep, A nightmare. Or a dream that doesn't make sense yet.

I want to see you standing there again.
In the morning,
in your kitchen, next to the sink.
The sunlight would glint off the stainless steel
and you would wind your spindly fingers
around the handle of your white coffee mug--
No sugar, just a hint of milk--
and smile like the dawn,
wrapped up in your pink bathrobe,
hair wild as the wildest
sleep.

I feel like you're still here, until I know you aren't. I wish you were still here. I've lost my biggest heart.

When I look at pictures of her, my heart wants to break through the walls
of my chest
and my eyes wet as if
I might clean her absence away.
The pictures
bring to mind
all I have lost
all I have
never given, never will be able to
give.

They speak athousand
yesterdays
and wishes for tomorrows
and stab me,
slow and
deep
as if to remind me;
whisper in my ear...
yell in my face...
slap
awake my desperate,
hopeless,
empty gutters
and nick away at my restless
sleep.
 
I'll always keep your pictures
but looking at them will never feel
like anything less
than death.

It Appears I'm a Tool Bag

I am well en route to the land of calculus knowledge, everyone may be pleased to know.  Also, it seems that everyone in the library hates my guts.  Not, wait, let me amend that.  Everyone in and around the library. 
Yes I am boisterous.  Yes I am loud.  Yes this can amplified when I am "studying" with one of my favorite friends who I never see.
However, that is no excuse, upon my leaving to get a drink, for some random chick who I do not know to plop herself down in my seat, and write on my stuff something about how she hopes my final isn't "too awful," hinting that I obviously would do horrible on it.
I walked back in just in time to catch her in her immature and mean deed, and let's suffice to say that I very nearly got in my first fist fight ever.
Then, I go out into the hall to make a phone call.  I am in perfectly acceptable phone call space, talking to my friend about the incident and having a good chuckle when some other douche bag gets off the elevators and glares at me as if I tried to eat her child.
What did I do!?
I do not feel that I am blameless in the first little squabble--yes I was being kind of loud and kind of obnoxious in the library, and I know that's a crappy thing to do.  But wouldn't it be more mature to say "Excuse me, wouuld you mind keeping it down?"
Plus there's always the option of studying at home or in the room marked "quiet study" at the library, because we all know there's always a big tool bag like me planted at a table just close enough to you to fuck up your day.
But anyhow, that's neither here nor there.
My point (did I have a point?) was just to say that I am loud.  I have a personality that...well, not everyone can take.  But I am fine with that.  No I do not condone being rude, but I also will not feel guilty for being who I am--a happy, happy girl--wherever that happiness may take place, whether it be smack dab in the middle of your study session or not.  If I  had known how much I was bothering that...girl...I would have quieted down.  But I like who I am, squeaky voice and all.  Loudness and overtness.  Over the top-ness as well.

I Have a Theory

My calc 3 final is pressing...pressing down on me.  The weight of how much stuff I still don't know is almost too much to bear, so I must be brief here!

I have this theory.  My disclaimer: this isn't 100% guaranteed, because uh nothing is.

HOWEVER, I am continually wowed by applying this in life because with the right amount of confidence, smiles, and gusto...it just might work for ya, and by just might, I mean probably will.

Okay, enough with the buildup.  I'm gonna lay it out for you--Go For It!  Tadaa!! That's it.  If you want something, something big, something small, whatever it is, sometimes it's literally as simple as just asking for it.

Yep, my recipe for success in life includes one ball, two balls, wam bam you made it!

You want examples? Oh, I have examples.  Where to being, where to begin...aha!

Just the other day, I had something to fax.  I was in an academic building, with the closest official fax machine located multiple blocks away at the ups store.  It was hot, I was busy, and I quite frankly didn't feel like paying two bucks a page to fax something when, with the right attitude, I might just find a better option.

I walked to a tutoring office across the street (saving myself distance, and thus time) and, with a smile and a slight twinge of desperation, kindly asked the lady at the front desk if she might help a student in a pinch.  Her first response? NO.

So I thanked her anyway and started to ask where she would suggest I might go to fax my papers.  No sooner did I say this than she asked me for the fax number, took the papers from me, and faxed them, bada bing bada boom, no sweat.

I thanked her multiple times, and earnestly told her that I really appreciated the favor (which I did) and went about my day, wallet still stacked to the brim (okay, really I had like $8, but that's $4 more than I would have had!).

This is a perfect illustration of what I am talking about.  Did the lady mind taking two seconds to do me a favor? Not a bit.  It just took her a minute to realize the triviality of what I was asking her to do and agree.

You can duplicate this result!

Fax machines not a big concern for you?  Okay, fine.  I'll pull out a doozie.

I am an artist (from time to time) and joined an art club back home where I'm from (Greensburg, Pa).  It ended up being different from what I expected--I was by far the youngest member.  As a matter of fact, I felt like I acquired a lifetime supply of friendly grandparents by joining, artsy ones, at that.

But I stuck around and got to know the president of the club and her husband, and they turned out to be really kind people.

One day I thought to myself--"Wow. It would be really sweet if I could have my very own art show...just my work...solo exhibit...yeah! I'll fill this place with all my art! And invite a bunch of people! And maybe get famous...!"

Okay, that's enough of my thoughts for you.  Anyhow, the moral of that tailspin was that I wanted to have a solo exhibit.

Mind you, I had never done anything of the sort in the past, and I later found out that I knew little to nothing about what it takes to put together an exhibit (which is, by the way, a lot of work and money).

Despite that fact that I didn't really know how it would work, or even IF it would work, if I'd even have a slim chance at convincing this group of serious, professional artists to hand over their space to me, a naive high school senior (at the time) to hang my, I'm sure to them, quite novice artwork.

But though I knew there was a possibility they would laugh in my face when I asked...I asked.

And they didn't laugh.  They were definitely taken very offguard.  They didn't really know what to say.  But they told me they'd consider it, and that sounded great to me!

I think you can probably smell the conclusion of this one...they agreed to the show, and a few months later, I stood in the art club, surrounded by my work and only my work, with people filing through the door to attend the opening of my first-ever solo exhibit.

It was incredible that they said yes, but I will never ever forget the way they said yes.

The president wrote me a letter that said..."after considering your idea, we cannot see why not."

WE CANNOT SEE WHY NOT.

Give asking for what you want a try, and you will not get this response everytime.  But I can almost guarantee that if you go at it with the right attitude, you will get this answer WAY more often than you would ever think.

Broadly speaking, I think I've decided

on my life goal.

>I want people to look at me<

and all the things I've done in my life

and say

"How does she do it all"?