Who knew?

I guess I'm a little surprised that I kind of like this.

Thursday

Tears come more frequently lately. I don't write enough anymore. I'm kind of stressed about life, and I don't know how to control anything, or what to do about anything at all.

I'm very tired in several ways... more emotionally than anything? I did not intend to start the semester that way. I don't know what to do.

I wanted to write a poem, but I don't think it will come tonight.

Wilderness

How does one become disciplined to do something every day? I miss writing. I miss having a sense of accomplishment, instead of discouragement and frustration and the constant running and running and running from one thing to the next, living moment by moment with hardly a moment to breathe in between. And yet it seems to be the things I want to do the most that seem the farthest away. The show in the fall: in a city forty-five minutes away when I don't have a way to get there of which I know, and required presence at some other rehearsals later on that I'd have to negotiate. And being at Cedarville: I wasn't supposed to be back this year. I didn't want to be. Why am I still going back?

Maybe I'll write a poem later. But right now, it's all I can do to form words into sentences on here, let alone be creative.

I'm sunburned. It hurts.

Night

Hi, God.
I don't know why I'm still here.
Yeah.
That's all.
Bye.

Movement Studio

Tears
Blood
Breaks
Sweat
Pain

Hugs
Friendship
Love
Laughter
Life.

Jumping

Remember how I decided
I was going to stay here
and make the best of it?
Well,
I question that decision
every single day
and wonder why the hell
I'm staying where I am.

Two plus zero equals
nothing in terms of a future.