Weird how my last post was on ash wednesday…

Since thsi one is coming a day after it. I went this time. I have a lot I would like to update maybe I will began using this more since I reset my password which i did to attempt to comment on a friends blog. Uh, yeah. But I have class soon and I need to ya know, do that whole grooming thing, but I will be back

Ash Wednesday and Floodgates

I am catholic. Today I should be mass and receiving ashes. Instead I will be working. I feel guilty about it, but mostly because I’m relieved to not have to attend today. I am angry at whatever greater being there is for the pain and loss I’m feeling.

Today is the first day I have dealt with my Grandmothers terminal cancer or my Grandfathers terminal cancer. I’ve spent the last few hours crying and getting sick to my stomach. The old fashion diet of grief. I’m scared to lose them. I’m sad about what they’ll go through, and I’m stricken ill with the images of Grant’s cancer and the potential for two repeats of that experience.

I haven’t talked to my parents or anyone really about how upset this all makes me, I suppose because up until today I’ve been ignoring the issue of this with whatever I could. Shopping, work, school application, scholarships, anything, everything. Tragic events in my life always make me more productive.

I wish I had some sort of wisdom from the last go around of loss, but I don’t. Only partially healed wounds.

I thought about calling in, but the truth is I still have big bills to face, and being home all tonight and tomorrow with my sorrow seems more toxic than beneficial. It would be nice to spend some time with my parents, but I don’t know if I’m strong enough or ready to talk to them about this. I’ve been trying to be strong for them and focus on helping them all while still avoiding my own emotions.

It’s been one year and three months since Kyle died. Every month since then has held a new heartache and everyday a new addition to the mourning process. 

April will mark the year mark for Grant’s death and coming up on the 12 of feb. he would have been 19. It think of what he would’ve been doing. I think of his smile. I think of Kyle every time I think of Grant. I think of Kyle’s Rosy cheeks and how I saw him in my dreams for so long after. How I felt him so close after he’d died. I think of how he’d always whisper how I looked like my mom and act is though it were a big secret.

I think of my Grandmother and how only this September we were at the annual wine fest. How she danced and laughed. How I already miss her. How much this feels like last April.

I think of my Grandfather and how grateful he was I brought him the rubbing of his brothers grave in France.

I think of parents how much pain they will be in when they lose their parents.

I think of losing my parents.

Every day they leave my chest tightens. Will today be another dark tragic day. Will a better tomorrow every really come?

The vomit rises in my throat and my head pounds every time this thought process occurs, and it’s been on solid repeat all day.

I’m scared. I’m sad. I’m weak. I’m sick. I’m sorry.

My floodgates have opened. The process is long and exhausting, and nothing, not even my writing, eases the feeling.

I’ve been away. whoops.

If this post sounds bitter- it is.

Oh goodness. So my heart and I have reunited, and tonight I began writing some new rough poems to get some of the emotions out and start dealing, and I forgot how exhausting it all is. I’ve got the old stuff still brooding around inside and the new stuff filing in like there’s just in abundance of room for pain in my soul. I assure you there is not. It’s pushing around, my emotional insides are like a mosh pit. I thought when my heart came back it’d be more of a little mermaid moment. When she reunites with her voice and gets her prince. I suppose all those damn movies were toxic in that way. Giving me a sense of magic and hope. They should really set out a line of truth friendly Disney movies. Bambi was close.

Maybe like a sleeping average looking lady who never wakes up.

A hopeless Cinderella who sneaks drinks of vodka to deal with the unfair demands placed on her by the bitches she serves.

Or a snow white with a prince, but without the charming – a highly flatulent prince perhaps with an verbally abusive nature.

Beauty and the unplanned pregnancy.

Fox and terminal hound.

Nothing in childhood sets us up for the pain that awaits us in adulthood. I suppose I did run straight into my out of the gate, a bit before actually. I mean that sweet hope got be through the first few onslaughts, but now it’s long gone and my cynical angry sad wit has taken it’s place. And while I don’t turn to drugs or alcohol, and have stopped overeating/emotional eating. I have found myself turning into a compulsive shopper. I need a healthy habit. Like an obsessive exerciser, without going to that anerexcoriser.

I work. I worry. I watch TV. And I do yoga. That is my life.

College won’t bring be anything new, ya know, other than education, and some attractive distractions.

I’m so friggin tired. It feels good to write though. It’s like quitting a habit you love, like smoking, and that first drag after a long absence. It feels to damn good.

I met a cute boy at work. He goes to . Score. I _________wouldn’t mind cuddling up next to him at school. I think his name his _______. He’s tall. Wavy short brown hair. He talked to me. Maybe my come hither look worked? No piercing or odd colored hair, and yet I find myself incredibly drawn to him sexually and on a friend level. He writes. AWESOME. The scary thing about other writers though is they have a more critical eye of others writing. Not that I really foresee us getting to a point I’d share my writing.

But MAN he is a cutie.

I’ve been buying stuff like crazy. It’s not filling the void. Like crack doesn’t either. Like a bottle of vodka wouldn’t like nothing will. I’ve got to face the facts, but it’s so much nicer simply not.

Bleck. That’s how I feel exhausted and bleck. And also a little aroused? That’s the human condition for ya. We are an odd mix of animal instinct and emotional turmoil.

I haven’t painted or drawn in a very long time. It’s not time. My art comes in waves. It’s building up, and it will come out, passionately, painfully, and fantastically, but you can’t rush it. My painting is best untapped for long periods of time. I suppose that’s why I could never paint for a living. OH that and lack of real talent — or that may be why I could make a fortune at it. COUGH Jason Pollock(spellcheck).

I’m off to reread some old poems and add some new. I will attempt to write more. Actually I probably won’t I just say things I don’t mean because it makes me more likeable for a moment…that I should work on but probably won’t.

P.S. sometimes I lie and I see no purpose to other than to have a reason to talk. Neurotic much?

What’s happening in Chrish’s World?

Currently I am listening to Garbage

I’m filling out fafsa for college next fall.

It looks as though I will be attending a college instate. There’s nothing wrong with that and the school is a good school, but I got into my dream school with a fantastic and limited space writing program in new york, but there’s no way I or my family can swing the trip out, tuition, hell we can’t even swing the meal plan for there. yowza. I’m pleased I got in though. That inspires to move forward with crafting my skill.

I’ve been looking at this website for publishing your writing. we’ll see. I don’t have a whole lot of extra cash at the moment.

yeah I’m out for now. I’m tired and I work early. Just thought I’d pop in to show I’m still kickin.

the truth

since everything that happened last year I haven’t been close to anyone new, or any of the people I was close to.

It’s not that I can’t, in fact I’m more open now than I ever was in the past, but it’s that I have no desire to.

I haven’t met anyone new that seemed like anyone I wanted to get to know. I don’t mean it in a condesending manner, just that I live presently in a small rural town and I encounter a lot of the same people. Next year I’m going to college, and I don’t know how it’ll go. I don’t feel it’ll  be any amazing transformation. I intend to learn and do well in hopes of getting a decent education and career. I don’t party. I don’t want to party. I don’t see any benefit to staying up late for the hell of it.

I have been socially inept…virtually forever, but I have always been at a spot in my life as far as desires and priorities that is roughly five+ years of my age group.

the last man I really connected with had similar views and we clicked very well, but he later revealed when he had said he was in hid mid twenties he meant early 30s. creeper.

It’s strange I thought I would always need to have a close realtionship with someone to be happy, but I’m much more content without them. I’m a very solitary person, and to say that is almost unacceptable. All of a sudden if you say you enjoy being alone you’re weird, creepy, loser.

bleck. just throwing it out there. Nothing of much importance said here. no poems, but new ones are being added to my collection.

until next time

-chrish

damn winter itch and unreliable coworkers

When I say I’ve got winter itch I am not suggesting I’m itching to go outside or be active, oh no, I’m used to crazy cold winters and own more than enough bundlewear to brace even the fierest of winter winds. No, what I mean is the damned dry skin EVERYWHERE. I can’t moisturize enough to keep up, and it drives me nuts! I look gross and dirty constantly scratching at myself, and I know it only irritates my skin more, but good lord it’s annoying. I wish it were spring. Oh what I woudln’t do for some nice nonskindestroyingseasonalair.

2nd rant – I was at work nine hours today due to a call in. I should’ve been able to leave at 3:30 and attend to paperwork I needed to sort at 3:oo when they were suppose to come, but oh no, they called in sick, and while there are people I would believe actually being sick, this little buttface is almost always late and slacks off. Oye.

on a positive note I dyed my hair a darker  brown and I love it.

I’ve also been trying to write poetry, but I’m lacking the inspiration, foul cranked out moods will have that effect, but not just today, for the last few weeks.

here’s a rough start of one I scribbled down during a break recently.

it’s a beautiful dance we engage in, an intricate illusion to be sure
        the most becoming coming of age fairytale,
It’s a stunning tale to behold
                               one of truth, of love, of something better than we held before
the threatening reality pushes us to determinately cling, trying to grip the memory of what was
   watching it slide in a strikingly sarrowful manner down our hands caressing our viens, teasing our life, as the tomorrows cease to be bright and our womb life before living is our finest delight
          it was the once real hope who’s skeleton we now masquerade about attempting to replenish the life it once held, it was progress for something other, someone other than ourselves.

I’m not sure how I feel about it. I think it’s got potenial, and maybe a bit of tinkering or even just some time to not be staring at and scrutinzing it will make it seem more promising to me. In any event I hope your thursday was a more pleasant one than mine.

until the next post signing out,

-chrish

Let’s have breakfast at tiffany’s at paris when it sizzles funny face, and bring sabrina once she gets back from her roman holiday – oh and good books.

Yes indeed I did just incorporate five audrey hepburn movies into the title, because that’s what one of my closest friends got me for birthday/christmas and gave to me last night another good friend gave me a gift certificate for a book store in town. Does anyone know of any  good books? I’m thinking maybe some classics- but I’m not sure so if you read this and  know of any  great ones just throw ‘em on out.

It’s the new year, 2008, and I hope it’s better than last year. that’s about it. I hope to have some positive changes happen, but that’s mostly up to me, and I’m pumped I have today of to lounge around. I’m also glad no one killed myself or  anyone at our get together from drunk driving. I think getting totally trashed, though new  year’s tradition, is completely stupid. How is it a good idea to binge drink so much you will most likely do something stupid, and on top of which have a killer hangover to start off the new year.

I’ve never really been one for drinking since my first experience when I was 15. My friends and I decided it would  a grand idea to get drunk together as none of us had before, in october in minnesota in a pasture. This plan had a lot of bad elements. So we did, and I having never drank, had no idea what would get me drunk so I consumed the better half of a bottle of vodka, and quickly lost the ability to walk or stay concious. I vomitted all over, and had my friends not been there to give me blankets and make me move out of my piles of vomit I suspect I may have died – at any rate I had a two day hangover that discouraged me from ever doing anything so stupid again. I hate to be vunerable due to an intoxication. I’m not sure why I shared that, but there you go.

no poem – but i’m working on writing more because I seriously wanna work on getting them organized and together for loads of editing and possible publishing in the future.

Hope 08 brings you nothing but the best, and if you’re starting off with a hangover I hope after the hangover 08 brings you nothing but the best.

-chrish

religious views part two and poetry buffet

In the last installment I wrote of what I personally think/believe at this point in my life. I would like to add that in terms of people in their own personal beliefs, I do not think any are foolish or stupid. Faith in something is beautiful and can bring beautiful things into this world. I do not think lower of anyone who has different views than myself, because I certaintly do not have the answers. I am incredibly liberal and open minded, and frequently have it held against me. I am currently reading paradise lost and paradise regained – it’s an amazing poem and I reccomend it to everyone.

Wow. that really didn’t end up being nearly as longwinded as orginally intended. Maybe another day and a longer blog it’ll resurface.

In other news I saw “I am Legend” last night. Wow. friggin wow. It was exciting, terrifying, and sparked ideas of which I ponder now. The scenerio is set slightly ahead of our time – a few years, and a cure for cancer is found, but the miracle cure ends up becoming this disease similar to rabies, and turns animals and people rabid and they become a zombie like creatures — it was an interesting idea – because in it the concept of our tinkering with natural order, with “God’s handy work” lands us in a hell on earth. It’s a debate I have a lot in my own mind when figuring out what I believe. I believe in work to help others – I would include in that list curing such horrid diseases as cancer or at least legallizing a more respectable way to die, but I have a hard time fighting between progress and crossing that line. When do we go to far and try to master things we have no right in messing with. Does such a line exsist to even be crossed? I was initally distrubed by the concept of cloning – because you can’t clone a soul, would these creatures be soulless and would that mean if we ever cloned people that they would be soulless and lack a moral compass? Or is it like the buddist suggest only in our minds, and that these clones would hold the same religious capacity we do, having duplicated the home of religion, our minds? I fight with myself because I do believe something large is out there, and that we do possess souls, and I can’t imagine that could be duplicated, but then could these clones imitate us well enough to ease our fears, would we notice an absence of soul? Don’t enough people fake happiness and other pleasentries daily, and we willing feed in to the happy lie? I don’t feel this way about it anymore. It doesn’t worry me, and I’m not sure why. I believe we, as people, control what will happen, and if we bring soulless clones or rabid zombies such a being as God won’t intervine. We won’t be saved, but I don’t think we will be damned either… okay so that did end up being more about religion…sorta.

I’m to tired to really devote a bundle of time to it, but I would like to offer more poetry

Midnight

The midnight canvas with it’s beautiful truth paints us a masterpiece and openly I talk to you    The silent night protects us and hides our insecure fears, both of each other and nothing                In the line of tomorrow becoming today and today yesterday the sense of clarity becomes confused    But at midnight it seems to breath, the skeleton of me starts to take shape                                       A calmness filled with an anxious appreciation of fate, to sweet to feel without fear of permanent escape                                                                                                                                   And I ask in the sense of an invisible companion, When does it click or all fall apart?                Why don’t you answer in my enlightened dark?                                                                       And how do I believe, hold faith and still fail to find my voice                                                Then the clock moves, everything’s shifted to the edgeI know it’s approaching, the time the darkened shield’s goneI hold on as long as I can without it being said until through nonverbal communication our openness halts and we drift away to an understanding saddened stateOur midnight’s gone and to speak would only make it breakSo we sleep dreams of the next midnight fate

this poem is about two different experiences that frequently intertwine for me. When you stay up late with someone, friend, lover, stranger, anyone really, and start discussing things you seldom say to anyone there is a beauty in that, and sometimes the late/early hour seems to hold a beautiful place for such experiences, and then trying to find God. Wondering about beliefs and life. Purpose, and hearing nothing giving you the answer I suppose because somewhere we know the answer already, but giving it life gives it wings, and if you let it fly it has the chance to fall.

AngelsBe not frightenedBecause the angels, they have wings                                                                                 Beautiful wings of silver threaded hopeAnd glowing robes of blueBe not afraidBecause the angels, they sing

Notes of crimson hues

And together they dance in a perfect harmony

Be not frightened

Because the angels, they feast

On golden table covered of the finest silk

And this feast they hold, it’s for you

Be not afraid

Because the angels, they stay

Holding together your hand in mine

And in a moment it makes sense

I’ve found my angel and yours in mine

this is an old poem of mine. I think it was written when I was a sophmore in high school. It remains to this day my favorite and most inspired poem. It is in this poem I feel closest to truth. To some sort of larger being. I wrote it in one shot, over a span of about 10 minutes, and it was this poem that made God click for me or religion or whatever label you impose apon something so beyond discribtion, and it helps me deal with my cousins passing.

and I’ll throw out one more, cause I’m a poetry whore!

My splintered heart struggles to stay intactHang on, hand out, reaching towards the dangling strings of what it’d beenClosed to the public, it’s stone exterior misleads its actually glassSo don’t push that hardBut for Christ’s sake don’t leave it to settle into grief aloneIt’s cold to the touch, but it burns with an extinguished flame of passion, of purpose

Melting and reforming into a monstrous clump of bits and pieces from its former self

Afraid to try again, to venture out, terrified to explore

Confused and bruised it’s left licking its wounds

Exposed and hidden it weeps for the why’s and injustice of the world

It’s resting keep the rest of me awake, alert and waiting for the next big break

I imagine my poems all seem connectedly about death and hearts and angels. The majority of the ones posted thus far have been written over this last year. In the last year, for a bit of background, my cousin cheated on his pregnant wife, whom we had known for 13 or so years, and had come to love as family, another cousin died in a car crash on his way to a fire call, my cousin and best friend from childhood battled cancer, went into remission, and then suffered with the renewed stronger faster cancer that took his life in april. My mother broke her ankle on both sides, my family lost our home, what I had believed to be my closest friends declared their hate for me as I saw my cousin on my deathbed and I ended up without support and heartbroken in so many ways. I am not bitter about it because I am sure I will be stronger for it, but I can’t lie and say i’m alright. I havne’t felt my heart in six months – seven now I think. Occassionally a good movie will cause a flicker of emotion but mostly I forget what it ever felt like to feel. My grandmother and her sister were recently diagnosed with brain cancer, both stage four, my grandfather is off of his chemo due to nerve damage, my uncle is in for a look at a suspicious lump, and my other grandfather is in the early stages of Alziemers. Indeed 07 was not my year, or really the year of anyone I knew, and 08 looks painful at best, but this is where my writing comes from. This is where my emotions go. This, on the paper, is where I find some sense of direction and realization of pain and forgiveness — of growth. This is where, if anyone was wondering, I exsist.

Until next time-chrish
P.s. these poems aren’t shown as I have them written or typed onother documents – many of them are written with spaces and alignments to give better life to the subject, but I’m to lazy to recreate it here. sorry.

I believe if Heaven exsists the clouds are blue cotton candy

They say you should never discuss politics or religion. I think people who aren’t open minded enough and to pigheaded to discuss the huge spectrum of option tied to each shouldn’t talk. To be honest in my conversations with others I don’t discuss my views on either topic. In part because so many people are pigheaded and become very defensive of their views when new ones are introduced, and in larger part because I fear speaking out for my views. I hope to work on that. I do express myself but mostly through silent mediums; art, writing, music. Things that mean what they mean to me but can be inturpreted at will. Long winded intro short this  blog is going to graze my background view on religion, and I will come back to it tonight after having chilled with some friends.

I was born, raised, and confirmed catholic, by the non hardcore catholics. My parents raised me in the idea that being a good person was right, and that religion shouldn’t close you off from others but encourage you to reach out to all people. Despite how that makes them sound they aren’t drugged out hippies. They are just very loving respectful people. I follow after them and have never allowed my personal religious affliation to restrict me from anyone. That being said I do not wholehearted believe in any one religion. I take bits and pieces. I think they all hold some truth. Many a shared truth, and if nothing else a beautiful message of being the best person you can and showing compassion. They encourage personal growth I dig that.

I have friends all over the board on religion; hardcore this or that, athiest, so so, sorta make your own etc. But we never really discuss it. It’s probably safer that way. I tend to question everything, and that frenquently includes the biggest mystery of mankind, it’s maker.

I have determined that I do not believe in creationsim.

I do believe in angels, both on earth and spirtually.

I do not believe in ghosts(due to my definition of one)

I do not believe in demons.

I do believe that heaven and hell reside on earth and internally, and we can choose whichever we desire.

I am uncertain of my believes regaurding heaven and hell after death.

I do believe something out there ties to us.

I do believe that God is largely in our minds, but I do not believe it is only in our minds – it’s to simple

I do not believe in fate or that if there is something more– a God that he doesn’t intervine with us.

I do believe this world we’re in is an illusion and fundamentally empty – thank you philosophy and zen lectures.

I do believe that this fundamentally empty dreamlike illusion we occupy has a very important purpose – although I am not sure what.

I do believe we have souls.

I do not believe any soul is saved or damned.

I do believe that many religious experiences are only manifestations of the intense fear people hold of their own demise.

I do also believe some religious experiences are sincere, and are rarely spoken of.

I do believe in communication with those not in this world.

and above all I do frequently change my mind on many of these things while I continue to unweave the thought process that brings me to new ideas.

I will close this blog with a poem after addressing my own commenter coldfire – do you blog? I would be very interested in hearing/reading what you think and above all discussing many of these issues. Any way to contact you via internet source? IM, blog, other etc.  let me know. I really enjoy your comments.

Where’d the time go?It ran away with the idealistic innocence of faith

Where’d his heart go?

Out the window, down the street to infidelity road just past the point of no return

Why’d he die?

A question no one can answer but the mind wonders and twists.

Why do we fly when we’re doomed to break

Crash and burn, the odds of life

And still we stand waiting for our shot to defy the odds and soar

But nothing comes priceless

You break among millions or you fly alone

Hearts heal, scared and scarred

Afraid to live, afraid to die

Absolutely no where to go

Run or stay the minds demons keep promises to never go away.

That was written this last year about a lot of various heartaches that were happening in my life. I like it, but beacause it’s my own I am partial, and highly critical, it’s like an internal odd couple.

Until tonight

-chrish

6 am blog

I work in an 1 and 1/2 hours. It takes me about 15 minutes to get ready so I have a sufficent amount of time to write a mini blog.

I have been writing since I was about 7 or so. Looking back at the numerous journals I have had and filled they look stupid and often touch on such key issues as what boy was dreamy in 4th grade, the 5th grade popularity, and middle school drama, but it’s helped me to find my voice, and limit the amount of airy meaningless topics I allow into my writing now.

I have been writing poetry slightly shorter amount of time – probably for five years – last year or so fairly seriously.

                             Thoughts sit soft on the skin         As two hearts begin the lovers tango,          Delicately tangle, delightfully intertwined          Passion slips smoothly from the lips

Bodies feel blurred and serene, love acting as the intoxicating fiend

                           Hold my hand and we’ll stumble through it together

Welcome to love’s first dance

Despite what this poem suggests I have never been in love. I thought I was once, but the truth was there was a boy once who despite his issues loved me, and I loved that he loved me. In the end he got hurt, and I was fine. I hope to never make such a costly mistake again. It was my first experience with love in the form of a realtionship, but not of being in love. I hold an unfortantly cynical view of love and realtionships, and oddly enough I harbor no bitterness about the matter. I grew up in a home where my parents loved each other very much, and to this day love each other. I’m not sure where my views on love and realtionships come from exactly. I suppose from observing. So many people of all ages – teenagers, twenty-somethings, thrity-something, forties, upwards and onwards. They all project what they want from love, that movie magic love, that real love, that quirky love; love. I feel the desire to not be alone is so strong people project whatever kind of love they desire onto anyone who’s willing to fill that role of “boyfriend, girlfriend, partner” etc.  I think that soulmate meant for you idea is complete and total crap. For that reason I don’t put much stock in realtionships, weddings, vows any of it really, because in a world where the majority of people who enter marriage leave it. He wasn’t this, she wasn’t that, he wanted to much etc.

Now, don’t mistake me, I do actually believe there is a thing such as the love described above that I have mocked and discredited. I just think that love is much harder to see and get to. I do not believe in soulmates, but I do believe that some people have great chemisty, and if you meet such a person and say to them, “look I know we may not be the perfect pair, that I am not your one great true love, because neither of us have anyway of knowing that. I know I bring my fair share of faults and you bring yours, but I want you to be the one I commit to, no matter who or what comes along I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” I believe that if you commit in an honest way to a realtionship/marriage you become interlinked. Forever in time you two have made an imprint on eachother to be connected for eternity.

I believe love is puriest when it’s given for people who never meet. Charities a lot of times, hold the most beautiful love, because it expects nothing back.

I say a lot of things that I truely mean now, just give me a view decades I imagine life and her experiences may have me singing another tune.

Until the next time,

-Chrish