Falling Short..

Blagh, do you ever feel like despite your best efforts you always fall a little short... or maybe a lot short. I seem to be capable of dreaming big things, beautiful stories, awe inspiring images but when I attempt to bring them to fruition, I fall so, so short. I don't know that I find much else, more infuriating. On a daily basis I can't quite put what I'm meaning to say into words, but on a slightly less regular basis, I attempt projects that just fall short of what I was hoping for. Now, I realize this sounds very pitiful and a little like I'm whining, but it really does bother me on a pretty deep level. I do wonder though, if most of the time, the reason things don't look like they should, or when they don't on the first try, I give up out of laziness, and really, with a bit more patience I could make something half decent out of what I've started. But I also feel a little bit trapped by my lack of skill, I'd give anything to be really good at one thing, maybe drawing, painting, or even writing, to get across the things I'm thinking, not because I think they are earth shattering-ly profound, but because maybe it could help someone else understand what's going on in their mind, or help them understand what it is that's been eating at them.
One way I might convey the frustration, is I dream really vivid dreams, sometimes which play out like movies, and I wonder if they might have something to them that could make for a good story. But then when I try to write down what happened, or worse, try to tell someone, it just comes out lacking. Some movies have touched on fancy futuristic technologies that go into your mind and either link you to someone else, so they can move about in your memories. Or like in Start Trek with holograms, God I would give anything to have at my fingertips, some kind of program that I could slowly piece together ideas, talking it out, and it would lay them out in real form, and bit by bit, I could mold them into what it is I saw.
 Sometimes when I write like this it helps, but I still know, that all my life, I could write just fine, but my endings were always terrible. Even if the ending didn't matter, even if it was a summations of points already made... I could never get it flow just right... Maybe I don't want the discussion to end, maybe I want to leave it open-ended, or is it simply I just don't have the patience to bother.

A change of pace

Working really hard to not let this break my heart. Had to take the dogs on their first separate walks today. Ralph is just slowing down so much that it’s too hard to juggle them on leash and off leash he tends to get left behind. Instead of crying or fighting it, I’m reminding myself to enjoy the different paces. Lexi will help me burn calories and get invigorated by nature, while my walks with Ralph will remind me to slow down and smell the roses… or every smell ever in his case. This way too, neither will feel rushed or tied down, and get some one on one time with mom.

 I still find it so incredibly hard to imagine that my sweet handsome Ralphie, the same rascal who would leave us in his dust on walks on the marsh, where we would have to squint into the distance to make him out between the tufts of hay. Or who would run away from the yard as soon as you turned your head and then keep himself just out of reach as you awkwardly followed him through all the neighbours backyards. I suppose I don’t miss the frustration and anxiety of those times but seeing him so slow is hard. But his nose still works and he has an incredible joie de vivre that I envy!

Written Aug 2014 -

People always insist on calling me crazy or insane, so why can't i right now, do exactly what insanity is and keep repeating the same thing over and over and keep faith that i might very well get a different result.

Very rarely am I willing to sacrifice anything that might lead to my feeling uncomfortable, but for some reason when it comes to love/ relationships, or mainly I think, the feelings of others, I let myself be compromised. Even when I knew for some time, things just really weren't going to change no matter how many times we discussed it, no matter how many times i cried, it was just never going to be what i wanted or needed.. Honestly too, maybe i didn't let it be enough, maybe i just wanted to get away from it, not even let myself compromise even thought i knew that was the nicest thing to do. i think i just know myself far too fucking well to try to play tricks on my self and let myself believe everything is ok and i'm happy. I've written this before but maybe i'm not meant to be part of a duo, maybe sadly (in society's eyes), i'm just supposed to be me, rescuing pets, focusing on them, their upkeep, their health, focusing on my job, my house, my family, and not seek the same things everyone else says we are supposed to. I've always, always dreamt of being happy like my mom and dad, but maybe my happy is different, i mean, some people love little poodles, i like big huge, snuffly, drooly dogs. That doesn't mean my love, my happy is any less right, or that theirs is any less valuable. Damn! societal strongholds constantly confusing me, making me think i want the same things. I don't, at least it really doesn't seem like i'm meant to enjoy them. Now Dan was pretty awesome, with flaws no doubt, but i didn't want to move past the flaws to see the loyalty and potential of a decent forever, I want to strive for the right thing for me, the right happy. God I sound so fucking cliche but I mean it. I guess it has to do with my fighting depression, not wanting to let sad rule me but knowing i have to always be mindful of it and keep working at happy. maybe that's why i don't let ok work for me, why i just have to have it my way. And oh my god i know I must sound selfish but sometimes, I mean really, who fucking cares , I can care about all the starving babies but if I end up walking off a cliff or driving off the road because i'm so caught up in the sad that is around me and ignoring my own... what good am I to any cause at all.

My mind is getting flabby

I want to feel like I’m being educated. Like I’m actually learning something on a regular basis. I see new things and I try new things but it’s always just another version of the same, or something I don’t get to completely understand, just treat, or assist. I don’t have teachers and I don’t have a real classroom. 10 years ago I went for the social aspect, and because that’s what my family did, I didn’t hate it but god it didn’t feel natural. And now I find myself wanting to be the thoughtful and wise person my dad always asked me to be and I’m surrounded by unused minds.

I almost don’t bother wanting to join a group or seek an outlet because I worry I’ll only be disappointed at the depth… I would love to be in a choir but I don’t want to be stuck singing Christian rock with a group of people trying to prove how groovy and into God they are by singing some hymn with a beat. And I don’t want to be singing with a bunch of old ladies who don’t really bother… I would love to find some young people who just have talent, and have drive to learn something new, to experiment with their voices and make something beautiful, or awkward and different.

I don’t know that I can really say when I last had this kind of conversation, not since I’ve been in NF. Who can I have those conversations with, certain people I might try to  show off, or impose too much, I just want that feeling of sitting on a balcony on a hot summer night as the sun has set and the neighbourhood is hushing, and you toke a joint or sip your beer and in the first hour of meeting you discuss religion and abortion, but you haven’t offended anyone, you haven’t harped on personal experience you’re just talking about stuff. You’re discussing the world and what’s going on without belittling it with your life, your crap.

Thoughts about thoughts

I want so badly to find that person who can think at the same speed as me, stay on the same thoughts path as me, as random as it might be. Not to be told im so crazy or woah where did that come from. Someone like Emma was back in the day who knew where I was coming from how I got to a certain point and found the same random shit funny. Its not random babble its philisophical thinking its expanding its not being afraid of being wrong but challenging myself to get it right whether I come about it by the same conventional methods as others or if its by messing up rambling on and maybe sounding like im lost, all the while stumbling to an answer. An answer that suits me, that expresses my thought, my opinion, my feeling.
I miss not caring how much time ISpent on thinking but thinking because I loved the feeling.of challenging myself, of getting that exhilarating feeling of finally expressing what it is I was thinking whether it be to anyone or just the tree I was sitting under. I didnt care I found the satifaction in just having the thought and making it conrete.
I hated sometimes that when I finally went to write it down I'd lose it again, sometimes my grasp was only   fleeting, and maybe that was only because the thought only had that long to be and by the time I got the paper and pen I wanted to expand it again, think deeper about it or further about it.

Brave face

I think to deal with heart break my instinct after initial outward sorrow is to work at constructing a positive outlook and image. Tell everyone you are ok. Tell them you dont regret it, that its for th best. You dwell on everything that wasnt working. But once time has really passed you get to a point where you let yourself acknoledge the loss you felt and that part of you still misses it. That a part of you wants to go back. Im ok alone but obviously for quite some time I was happy with someone else. I guess its when you feel you are strong enough to grieve it without making yourself want to try again. This time comes now... Over a year later... I dont even remember the details I loved because Ive spent these past months forgetting it,ignoring the feelings. But my heart I guess stil aches a little... Misses the state of mind of being loved. And being a part of something.

return of the ramblin blogger

havent blogged in a while, suppose I was enjoying things too much to complain... or maybe too busy to reflect. eitherway Im back. Been struggljng lately with the realization that some people. Not even mid twenties are already ready to be lazy and set in their ways. that if they know theyre going to get that pay cheque no matter how little they do...  I want to work hard because I love feeling as tho Ive accomplished something at the end of EVERY day. But I also work hard because I feel guilty if I think something is being half assed or left undone. Another reason I do my job well is because I like it. i like getting dirty and scratched and exhaustdd. i like the do the actual handson physical labour required when working with dogs. i also adore the company of these canines. they have good days and bad but theyre never snarky or lazy. they never pass up the opportunity for fun, theyre curious they try new things, new experiemces new challenges. There have really been countless times where Ive wished everyone could be more like our animals, and more like me so that they could understand my drives and we could synch up. but instead im isolated and get spread thin by the extra effort required to do the job the way i think it should be done.