It seems that my "deep-writing-feely-lyrical" days are becoming rare. It makes me mad, because I love writing. It is so much easier for my brain to comprehend itself through a keyboard and finger tips. I'm not good with words, I get anxiety and nervous even in the smallest social crowds. Not a lot of people would know that cause I play it off pretty well. I have a wall built up around me, and I hate it.. but at the same time I love it because those whom I let come in or have let in.. mean THAT much more to me. I have a hard time talking about myself, my chest tightens when too many questions are asked and I try all I can to turn the conversation back on them before beads of nervous sweat pop up on my nose.
The minute I get my journal and Mumford & Sons pandora playlist on, I can't stop "talking".
aaand now goes my ramble of nothingness, while I sit on the bus staring at a man covered in face tattoos and a woman in a mumu with some of the cutest gold vintage jewelery, I would buy off of her in a minute, if given the opportunity. The bus makes me nauseous because of a hilarious but awful experience a couple months ago. A man sitting next to me at the stop munching on Easter egg whopper candies, shoo-ing away birds wanting to taste. He goes to put a whopper in his mouth, a bird comes flying at him, he decks it in the face mid-air, feathers and "eggs" flying everywhere. He looks down at his hand to find traces of bird blood, then down at me...a bird myself. I made sure to mean mug him and I got on the bus, vomit rising in my throat but eyes watering from holding in a HUGE burst of laughter. So as I learned it psychology about classic conditioning I am now conditioned to feel sick everytime I get on the bus.
I am so happy in Hawaii. The beach, warm weather, mountains, and everything beautiful attribute to that love but I have developed something else while living here. There was a gap somewhere inside of me that has now been fulfilled, if I could pinpoint it or even explain the satisfaction of it I would but my IPhone keyboard isn't helping me out too much today. I have found some of the best friends I have ever had, friends who understand, whom are hilarious, real, and love me for me. I am so blessed to have been able to build these relationships, otherwise things would get pretty lonely out here.
I am a year clean of any traces of Melanoma. I never forget the episodes, but I have to remind myself on a constant basis that it was me that it happened to. None of it was a dream and I almost have to convince my mind by reviewing each experience, each of which where real. Not just a story, I'm that girl I tell people about?
I need to be a better student. I need to pay attention more often, I daydream more in class than I do lying in bed at night. I pulled straight A's somehow though hollla.
I should probably stop staring at people for long periods of time trying to figure out their names, who they are, when the last time they got some lovin,what they ate for breakfast, how many times they've had their heart broken, who they see when they look in the mirror, what they're struggling with, who they love or where their going. I have no fear in winning a staring contest with a stranger.