Hanging out at grandparents!

So after a long time traveling and going crazy listening to my brother insist on riding every elevator he could find my family is now visiting my grandparents. Yay! :D

We haven't been able to visit them for a couple years because of money issues. We moved last year so we couldn't really travel anywhere. It's really kind of sad, but that's just what happens. However, it's wonderful to be here and get to talk with my family about everything. The only down side about this all is that they all get to bed a lot earlier than my family and certainly a lot earlier than I do. o.O

Resolution Time

So I decided to split my this blog into not two, but three blogs. Krystaline Moon is now my sad blog so all rants, ravings, and I HATE MY LIFE AND WANT TO KILL SOMETHING posts will be over there. Krystaline Star will be to talk about dreams and writings. This one, Krystaline Sun, will now be my happy blog. Hopefully it will be a good change. (So the first year, basically, was a trial run of this blog to see what I tend to write. Unfortunately, whoever reads all the posts beforehand will see a very troubled young woman who whines about EVERYTHING. This must change.)

One thing that I want to try to do is that every time I post on Moon, I post on Sun (hopefully I'll post on Sun more often than that...). It's not good to wallow in self-loathing and despair, so finding something that I'm happy about will hopefully help things? Such as my mind that's slowly shattering into pieces?

*sigh*

Well, I've posted once on my sad blog already, so I should post something happy on here, right?

Hmm...

I guess I could talk about the chat I had with Buenolas last night. Even though both of us were upset about different things, we eventually had a fun chat about all sorts of stuff. Defrosting fridges, random fun card games (1000 blank cards of fun! whoo!), and other such things. I've had bad run-ins with him, but lately...it's been nice, I guess. Nice conversations and such.

What? I never said that these happy memories were going to be life changing! Got to take things one step at a time, you know?

Why has this turned into a sad blog?

I'm sorry about this, I really am. I didn't intend on this being a whole "my life sucks" journal. I might have to do what I've seen other friends do and have two blogs: one happy and the other sad/angry.

Since I can't change names of blogs already made, I'll have to try to make this my happy blog. After all, suns are not associated with depression.

So, I'm an emotional idiot

I have rediscovered why I can't go to dances by myself. I end up just wanting to cry.

It's just like high school. You go to a dance hoping to run into people you know and hoping to have a good time. None of your friends come. They don't dance. The only ones there are the popular people (who give you the cold shoulder when you try to talk to them) and the couples (whom a single girl definitely does not want to mess with). So you're left sitting at a table by yourself or leaning against a wall watching the people on the dance floor have a good time. You feel as though you're invisible, because no one will come talk to you, or even acknowlege you for more than a few seconds if you try to talk to them.

Why do I go to these things anyway?

Picking up yet another hobby

So, the list of hobbies and crafts that I either want to learn or already have learned is still growing.

Have learned or am in the process of learning:

1. Origami
2. Macrame
3. Knitting
4. Crocheting
5. Ballroom dancing (including swing and latin)

At least, those are the ones where I've picked up any sort of skill from.

Want to learn/pick up:

1. Jewelry making using knots and beads
2. Jewelry making using wire and beads
3. Sewing
4. Needlepoint
5. Embroidery (is it the same as needlepoint?)
6. Cross-stitching

However, the current thing I'm picking up is drawing. That's right, pure and simple drawing.

Many years ago my mother had bought Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain complete with the workbook for me, since at the time I was interested in drawing and wanting to get better at it. Because it was set up like a text book think I ended up just putting both the book and workbook on my bookshelf, where they remained for many years. When I was home for the weekend I spotted those books on my shelf and thought to myself, "Why not?"

I actually started the little course thing today. The book called for me to do three pre-instruction drawings just so I could have a record of my improvements as I continued through the book: a self-portrait, my hand, and a corner of the room. I was actually suprised at myself, because I often have the feeling that I'm not really good at drawing at all, but for someone who doesn't draw much...the drawings weren't half bad. Apparently the one of my hand was the most life-like, according to Nil.

I'm looking forward to continuing. Hopefully my drawing abilities will increase and then people will become amazed! At the very least, I'd love to actually be able to draw well. The space that I find myself mentally when I'm drawing is...peaceful. I'd like to be able to visit that space more often, and have something that I can be proud of by the end of it.

:D

(Oh, random note: Yay for Nil's shiney new computer!!!)

Update from college

So, many things have happened since I've last typed on this blog. I visited Nil in LA for a week, which was awesome, and the two of have started dating. It is still odd for me to say, "I have a boyfriend." It produces an odd and happy feeling inside. :D

Also, I have moved back into the dorms at ASU, so there's happiness there. It's lovely to have my own space now. My own room where I don't have to hear the tv from the living room and I mostly just have myself to answer to. Of cousre, I still have to listen to my parents, but I have far more freedom out here than at home.

It's also absolutely wonderful to see my friends again. College feels a whole lot more like home than my parent's house does. That's both kind of sad and understandable, but I cannot express how much more at ease I am sitting in my dorm room than I am sitting in my bedroom.

One thing that I'm a little nervous about is that I have to find a job. My parents sat me down and basically terrfied me out of my wits about our financial situation. I'm sort of looking forward to it, but it also scares me. Yet another step into the adult world, I suppose.

Classes start in a few days, so that will be interesting. I'll have to make sure I don't go to bed at an obscene hour Sunday night.

Needing a new hobby....

So...I absolutely love crocheting. ADORE it. But I've been crocheting so much that my wrists are getting incredibly messed up. You know it's bad if within 15 minutes I end up being in pain.

So while I don't intend on completely giving up on crocheting (I have afghans to finish, after all!) I need to find a different hobby to occupy my time until my wrists heal up a bit. I was thinking of getting back into writing...

I used to write many years ago. Had all sorts of stories planned! I just...never finished any of them...so for now, I thought that it would be fun to pick them back up. Try getting back into the half-created worlds scattered in the many notebooks around my room. Don't know how far I'll be able to go, or how good the stories will be, but I thought that it was worth a try.

Wish me luck!

Weirdest phone calls I have ever recieved in my life.

First of all, I'd like to mention that both of these calls were to my cell phone and were very recent. The first call was a few days ago, and the second one just minutes ago.

Phone Call #1:

The guy on the phone asked for a Shelly. I told him there's no one here by that name and that I think he has the wrong number. He didn't seem to believe me.

"Remember, we met at the casino, and we talked about paralegal stuff...I gave you my buisness card..."

I had to stop him. "No, I'm sorry. This is Rachel and there is no Shelly here."

"But this is the number she gave me...she wrote it down on a card and gave it to me."

"I'm sorry but this is not her number. This is my cell number."

The guy kind of stopped for a moment. "Oh, this is your cell number?" He sounded like he was in disbelief, because that meant that the girl gave him the wrong number on purpose.

I was feeling kind of sorry for him by this point, so I listened to him for a bit. Trying to sound understanding and such. After all, this girl dumped him without even giving him a chance. Eventually he appologized for the trouble and he hung up.

Still, even though I felt sorry for him, that was the weirdest call I had ever recieved.

Or so I thought until...

Phone Call #2:

It's late at night and I'm just chatting with a couple of friends on the internet when my phone rings on my nightstand. I look to see who on earth would be calling me at this time, but the number is restricted. I'm tempted to just ignore it, but I decide to answer.

"Hello?"

Some guy whose voice I don't recognize asks, "Hello?"

"Who is this?"

"Michael Jackson!"

I'm in disbelief at this point. "Um...Michael Jackson died a few days ago..."

He pauses and asks, "Have you heard of MTV?"

"Right...who are you and what do you want?" If you can't tell I'm getting somewhat annoyed at this point.

The guy gets all shnazzy. "Just, beat it."

"..."

I'm losing interest and don't pay attention to the next sentence or two the guy babbles. I think I said, "umm..."

And then came what I'm sure all of you were expecting. "We could have sex."

Yeah, the guy offered sex.

My reply, "Umm...ok, I'm going to hang up now. Have a good night."

Seriously, strangest phone calls I've ever recieved in my life. o_o;;

Rant

Background info: Both Lady E and I want to date Nil. We tell Nil that we want him to make a decision by the end of the weekend. Nil talks to Byron, mutual friend of ours, about this. Byron asks me why we want Nil to make a decision. I tell him because Lady E and I do not want to be strung out anymore. Byron replies that we worry too much and suffer from one-itis (there not being more than one option). Basically that tells me he doesn't get it. I tell him I really don't feel like explaining it to him.

He replies, "I understand. You just don't want to be patient and feel like you're entitled to something."

You know what? I am entitled to something. I am entitled to a boyfriend who is not two-timing or cheating on me. I am entitled to my emotions not being toyed with. I am entitled to be seen as valuable and precious and to be loved. I am entitled to no one making me feel less than who I am. And I am entitled to be able to talk about how I feel and what I think without being shot down and made to feel like I'm an idiot.

You know why, Byron?

I am worth it.

Poems I wrote ages ago

Ever Flowing

Time flows as water
A slow stream, a fast river
but ever flowing

My past cannot be
grasped once more in my two hands
just as the water

Slipping through the gap
the water passes me by
Fading memory

Precious fleeting time
Remember my dearest friends
your joys and sorrows

Time flows as water
a slow stream, a fast river
but ever flowing

Free

Darkness closes upon me as tears cloud my eyes
All hope I once had away from me flies
Does no one see my pain?
Does no one hear my cries?

The tombs are filled with friends and family
Some have only emptiness, others hostility
There is no laughter in this cold place
Is there One to whome we can take our pleas?

Fear and doubt take my sight
So that I cannot walk in this night
Bound tightly by my chains, I am trapped
Without one to free me from my plight

A voice of beauty calls to me as I give up my fight
Who is this One clothed in holy light?
He says, "Come to me all who are weary,
My yolk is easy and My burden light."

My heart quails. I long to flee
As cold as darkness is, it hides my iniquity.
I sob, "Lord, I've done so much wrong!"
"My child," He says as He releases me,

"I died so that you can be free."


-untitled-

How long do we bear our wounds
never letting others see our pains?
We bury them, hide them, ignore them
hoping that no one sees our weakness.

Days, weeks, months, even years pass,
and we think the pain is over and gone.
A cutting word, a passing joke, a cruel prank
and the pain crushes us once more

even darker than before

We think that it's better to disguise our fear
from the gaze of others' eyes,
But deep in our souls we desperately need
a friend to help bear the ever-growing burden

The wounds deepen
leaving scars on our souls
Never healing, only growing
Until we break and fall apart

yet no one knows

Except for the One
who knows our every pain,
every scar, every sorrow
and cries along with us.

He longs for us to reach out to Him
to comfort us, give us strength
To take the heavy burden from our shoulders

And place it on His own.

Strange Strange Dream

So last night I dreamed that I was riding in a bus across the countryside with a bunch of other people. I had the feeling that we were on the run from someone. We stopped overnight on a hill, and when we woke up in the morning and looked over the hill, and spotted a sort of food shop (in the middle of nowhere. Yeah.) So the whole group of us walked down there to eat and stock up on food for the continued journey.

Then the dream shifted into a castle. All of us were...slaves to powerful rich people. I don't know if this was taking place before running away on a bus or if we had been captured. Two giant muscle-bound men dragged me into one room and attempted to chain me to a table on the orders of my master (you can guess what for), but I somehow managed to escape them.

I was running through the hallways and staircases, gathering the other slaves and getting them to escape. The ones who called themselves our masters were gathered in a stadium for some major event, so we only had to avoid their lackeys in our dash for freedom.

I know this was a short dream, but it was unique.

Yet another strange dream.

So, this dream is almost set up like a strategy game campain. There are two countries very close to each other with a small mountain between them. On one side, there is a warrior clan, living in simple huts on the dry earth. They are a fierce people, well versed in the arts of combat with all sorts of weapons, and more than willing to use them. Their most impressive weapon is what looks like a giant rolling log covered in spikes, but it fires arrows at the enemy and in close range can also act as a flame-thrower.

On the other side of the mountain, the other country has their castle set up on an island in the middle of a wide lake. A land bridge connects the island to the shore. (I guess that makes it not an island, but I don't know how to describe it.) These are passive people, spending much of their time mastering the arts of magic and sorcery and learning how to control fantastic magical beasts. Their ultimate defense sleeps in a cave deep beneath the waters of the lake, a montrous water serpent.

In this dream, two battles were fought between these two peoples. Both times, the warrior clan attacked the castle, the first time nearly conquering the sorcerors with their ferocity. I was in the middle of this battle, fighting alongside the magic-users. By the skin of our teeth we pushed the warriors back through the mountain tunnel to their homeland. The second time the warriors made their appearance, we were ready.

Most of us stationed ourselves in the castle, high above the battle below, casting bolts of lightning and fireballs down onto the warriors. Others were hidden around the attacking army harassing the warriors. Then the warriors brought out their rolling arrow-shooting, flame-throwing machine.

After some struggle, we managed to get their rolling monstrosity off of the land bridge and into the lake water. Then I called, "Summon the Water Demon!"

The Serpent awoke from it's slumber, broke the surface of the lake, and slaughtered the enemy left and right. The warriors ran back through the tunnel to their kingdom, but we gave chase, summoning terrifying skeleton soldiers and slinging more lighting and fire at the enemy.

From there, I assume we won the battle, but about that time I woke up.

AAAAAAAGH!!!!!

I am getting a new job. I just can't stand working for my friend anymore. I feel used, led on, and at times worried for my safety. I've only been called to work twice, and the reason for this is because I need rides from my friend to get to the job site. He knew I didn't have a car when he hired me.

So right now, I'm angry, frustrated, upset, and wanting to exact my wrath on my employer/friend. Perhaps we can remain friends, but I certainly cannot work for him.

Back to the Crazy Dreams. This one was kind of frightening

Had another strange dream last night.

I dreamed that I went back to Indiana for medical reasons and I could only get the treatment I needed back there. I went into my high school (except it was huge, and like a mall), and saw my old classmate Jason dash by. (I had a serious crush on him for two years.) He saw me, backpedaled, gave me a hug, and asked how I was doing. Then he said that he couldn't stay long because there was a burglary in progress. I guess he was acting as security? Then I ran with him down some stairs, getting his phone number along the way so that I could keep in touch with him after I left Indiana.

Then later in my dream, I was in a hospital bed, sleeping with my back to the open door. There was a mirror in front of me, so I could see a circle of desks outside and the people sitting and working at them. I was starting to wake up, and I was watching the people in the mirror, and the guy at the desk facing me was...staring at me. The look in his eyes and the creepy smile on his face gave me chills. I think he could tell I was watching his reflection, because he started drawing pictures on a clear glass panel standing upright on his desk. Pictures...basically of him raping me.

I was terrified, but after a little bit, I got up and went outisde to the desks to confront him or find his superiors, something to get him to stop. He had disappeared, but the pictures remained, so I asked the other people working at the desks who sat there. They just looked at me with wide frightened eyes and didn't say anything, so I told them to report him, because I certainly was terrified of whoever that man was.

The dream shifted again to me back in the hospital bed, and lots of people were gathered around me. I felt so weak, and couldn't move much at all. Then my vision became fuzzy, and I woke up in reality.

Return of the depressing posts...

The short version of how I have felt for the past 24 hours: worthless, useless, and helpless, and I hate myself.

Here's the longer version. I just feel so worthless, like I'm here to be used by other people to feel better about themselves, and then I can be tossed aside and trampled on when something better comes along. All I am is something to be drained. Who I am is not enough. No one cares. No one sees me as valuable enough to pursue, nor worthy enough to stay with.

I'm useless, because I can't do anything right. What I can do isn't enough.

I'm helpless because I can't help the people I care about. I sense their need and hear the pain in their voices, but I can't do anything to help them. If anything I make things worse.

Why am I here? What is the point?

Soooo tired....

Taking a break from the dream theme, I felt that it was necessary to talk about the past couple days.

To start out with, I have a summer job, painting houses. It's fun, and I like getting out of the house and actually doing something. Also, my boss is one of my friends, which may or may not be a good thing, I'm not sure yet. At any rate, I'm happy to be out doing something productive, and actually feel like I'm appreciated and needed. It's also nice to be doing physical work instead of all the mental work that comes with school and nearly everything else I do.

I have some difficulties with the job, but I'm trying to overcome them. One, I'm a woman and can't keep up with the men when it comes to speed because my muscles wear out faster than theirs do (also I'm out of shape...). I try to make up for it by making sure my work is done well. Like detail work and spotting places that need to be touched up. I'm told that I'm rather good at that, which makes me happy. Two, I'm working in the hot desert sun for most of the day. I'm trying to drink more water, but I don't seem to be drinking quiiiiite enough. Keep feeling like I'm going to collapse. Not good. I'm going to see if I can work something out to somehow get more water out to the job site. Three, I'm terrified of heights. Since painting houses requires much work high off the ground, this is problematic. Basically I just have to get past that, and be extra careful on ladders and such. I reeeeally hope my boss doesn't send me on the roof anytime soon.

Anyway, I was called out to work on both Monday and Tuesday of this week. I was fine with this, really. In fact, I was happy to be called out to work. (yay!) Just...didn't drink enough water on Monday (started shaking really badly and was just extremely exhausted), and even though I drank more on Tuesday, it still wasn't enough (worn out, unsteady on my feet). Mainly I just need to drink WAY more water than I have been.

*sigh*

Today I'm worried about three of my friends, and I can't help any of them. Only one of them is close enough that I can talk to face to face, possibly, but he's busy all the time. The other two are way far away, and...neither of them really want to talk to me right now. Understandably, I suppose...but...I'm worried.

I need a nap...

My first Story-Dream

Alrighty, remember I told you all about story dreams a couple posts back? Well, here's the earliest one I can remember having. I was probably in jr. high at the time.

I dreamed that I and a young boy around my age were wandering down a forest path and came upon a stretch of tall crumbling rock wall. Curious, we followed it until we found an ivy covered iron-gate. Somehow we were able to force the ancient gate open and entered a courtyard. Fallen columns and dried-up fountains were scattered about, and nature had long ago began to take back the area, but the boy and I passed all of these and headed for the old stone building at one end of the courtyard.

We explored the structure, examining the different rooms until we made our way up to the top floor, where we found several items scattered around the space. The two of us were drawn to two small statues, one of a man, the other a woman. We touched the statues, and suddenly blinding light burst forth from them! When we could see again, two small figures stood in front of us, the same as the two statues that were there just a moment ago. They introduced themselves and thanked us for releasing them from the spell that trapped them in statue form.

These two figures were spirits that served the people who used to live in the building, but apparently something terrible happened in the past. Everyone who used to live there was dead or gone, and the two spirits were imprisoned, doomed to wait until their masters could return and free them. They had waited many, many years...

Come to find out, my companion and I must've been decended from these poor spirits' masters, because the only way they could have been freed was by one of power. So they took it upon themselves to train us in the use of our powers.

The last thing I remember is the boy and I in the courtyard. White feathery wings sprouted from both of our backs, and we were working on controlling fire and water, conjuring them from thin air, so to speak.

I know, not that exciting, but since this was my first story-dream, I thought it deserved a place here.

Terror and Rescue

Since the theme of this blog lately has been dreams, I've decided to put in a dream I had many years ago. It affected me quite a bit, so I couldn't help but remember it. I actually haven't told many people this dream before...but I think that perhaps that would be good to put it into writing and let people see it now.

It started with me in a church, outside of the sanctuary doors. (For those of you who haven't been in a church, the sanctuary is where the congregation sits and listens to the preachings.) My heart wasn't really into entering that room, so I decided to explore the church building. I found a set of stairs leading downward into darkness. My curiosity led me down those steps.

When I reached the bottom, all I could see was a red path suspended in darkness. In the distance I could make out more paths, but I was separated from them by the pitch-black dark. So, I wandered down the path in front of me. Eventually I lost sight of the stair. After a while, I realized that I had been wandering around for a while so I tried to turn around and find my way back to the staircase, but even though I could swear this was the same path I had been on the entire time I never found those steps. I began to panic and broke out into a run, dashing along the red walkway. With every step I took, the path became narrower and narrower, until finally it was like a rope or a cord.

I fell into the blackness and was snared by hundreds of these red cords. I struggled to free myself, but every move I made caused more and more of the cords to wrap tighter and tighter around me until I could not move at all.

I screamed into the darkness for help, for anyone to come, but no one did. I don't remember how long I cried for someone to come rescue me, but I finally gave up. I was trapped, helpless, alone, terrified, and sobbing in the darkness.

Then a figure of light appeared before me: a man dressed in robes, brilliant white light radiating from him. I looked up at him pathetically, tears still streaming down my face, but as his eyes, brimming over with compassion, met mine, he just reached down to me. With a touch, the cords released me. I collapsed on the ground at his feet, but he picked me up, wiped the tears away, and carried me out of the darkness. I remember he spoke to me, but the words have since faded from my memory. What has remained is the feeling of safety and love that enveloped me as I was in his arms.

The cords of the grave coiled around me; the snares of death confronted me. In my distress, I called to the LORD...He reached down from on high and took hold of me...He rescued me because He delighted in me.

~Psalm 18:5-6, 16, 19

I am such a Band Geek!

I had another dream last night, this time about marching band. Unlike my awesome story dreams, this one was just plain weird and a little nerve-wracking.

I was with my high school marching band getting ready for a contest. I'm not quite sure why I was there...something about allowing past graduates to come? I don't know. Anyway I was there. Where is "there"? Some strange kind of carnival type place. o.O

Anyway, as I'm starting to get ready, I realize that I don't have my band shoes. Slightly panicked, I decide that nothing can be done for it, and I'll just have to march in my tennis shoes. Then I realize that my clarinet is at home! EEK! Now that I'm freaking out, I go to Mr. Bartlett (the band director) and let him know what's going on. He tells me that I'm going to have to march anyway, even without my shoes and instrument. So...as the rest of the band is ready and lining up to head to the field, I run into the trailer where the uniforms are kept. I find the garment bag with my name on it, but when I open it to get my uniform...you guessed it. No uniform. Instead there was a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Looking again at the garment bag, I saw an underclassman's name on it, and I realized that there had not been a uniform for me.

I tell Mr. Bartlett, who then says that I should just go watch the show, since nothing else could be done. I grab my sister and we start heading to the stands. However the route to the stands was something freaky. We had to go to a playground inside one building and traverse the obstacle course, sliding down a slide to get into a different building. This second building was made of marble, which was pretty cool. Anyway, my sister and I raced up and down the marble staircases, cross a room with a spinning floor, and reach the docks, because obviously the only way to go into the stands is across the river in a boat. (Everybody knows that, right?)

The tickets cost a dollar each, and I happened to have cash on me, so as I'm reaching into my wallet to hand her the dollar bills, the teller looks at me and asks for my debit card. Confused, I give it to her. She swipes the card, gives me a cold, hard stare, and says, "Trying to steal from us, are you?"

I get a look at the card, and somehow I had aquired some blond woman's debit card, and this is what I handed to the teller. (I have no idea how I got that.) I finally convince the teller that no, I was not trying to steal anything, she can keep the card and help get it back to its original owner, and I have the cash on me to pay for the blasted tickets! I throw the two dollars at her, grab the tickets, and Nicole and I race down to the dock where the boat started leaving without us. We leaped into the small boat from the dock...

And then I woke up.

Seriously, who dreams about marching band when they haven't even played their instrument in over a year?

Short post before going to sleep

I love hanging out with my sister because more likely than not we get into deep conversations about all kinds of things. This occured yesterday when my sister, one of her friends, and I were waiting on Mom to pick us up from the dance studio. We ended up talking about love and such. During the course of the conversation I said something along the lines of, "In my opinion, love is made up of three things: Commitment, Physical Feeling, and Intimacy."

Apparently what I said was rather profound, because my sister's friend suddenly pulled out a pen and wrote down what I said so that she could quote me later.

Then my sister told me that one of her friends at school had actually quoted her when he/she (I can't remember which friend this was) was debating something with another friend.

I was unaware that my sister and I were so inspirational.

o_O

I had an interesting dream last night...

(GASP!!! NOT A DEPRESSING BLOG ENTRY!!!)

Once in a while I have what I call "story dreams". They're dreams that are so vivid and follow a sort of continuous story line that I get ideas of a plot and possibly maybe a story if I ever sat down to flesh it out.

Last night's was rather interesting. Lately I've been getting quite a few dreams where I have telekinetic powers (I know, kind of weird) and in each dream these powers get stronger and I have more control over them.

In this particular dream the world was dealing with almost zombie-like beings. These beings were violent, almost along the lines of the reavers from Firefly, though I didn't get the sense of terror from then as one gets from the reavers. (Probably a good thing, otherwise this dream would have been horribly terrifying.) These beings came out from hiding at twilight to hunt in the darkness, and either killed their prey or they somehow sort of...infected them to slowly turn the prey into one of them. As far as it was known, there was no way to reverse this process, so if a friend or loved one was attacked by them and lived, they were as good as dead.

The only protection that the humans had against the beings during the night hours were Sacred Stones, stones that held a great deal of healing protective energy. Depending on how powerful the Stone was, the area around the Stone that was protected increased or decreased. The beings could not cross the area of influence around the Stones, so powerful mages erected these Sacred Stones in the towns and along the roadways. Pretty nifty, really. Only problem was that some of the Stones were weakening, and the attacks from the beings increased as the area of influence shrank.

When the dream started I was just outside the gates to a small town. It was twilight, and I was surrounded by the beings. The only reason I was able to defend myself was because I possessed telekinetic abilities, so basically I was just chucking rocks, boulders, broken arrowheads, anything that was within reach of my powers at the beings, knocking them away until I could get within those gates. I was able to make it in untouched by the beings.

Slowly I became part of the townspeople, and over time, I lost a few friends to the beings (they were infected). Eventually one of the leaders met me and discovered I had telekinetic powers and that I even had a small amount of control over fire. Later I would discover that these were not my only powers.

One night, the Sacred Stone failed. It had been weakening for some time, but then it just gave out. The beings swarmed into the town, attacking everyone in sight. Panic, screams, fire everywhere. I ran to the Sacred Stone and laid my hand on it, and suddenly I felt power leave me and rush into the Stone. Light and glowing symbols danced in front of my eyes as the Stone's power became whole again. The beings, suddenly caught within the Stone's area of influence, screamed in pain. I shouted into the night sky, "BE HEALED!!!" Then everything went white.

That was pretty much the end of my dream, but I had some sense that the beings were suddenly completely human again. Truly it was a fascinating dream, and I would love to be able to work on it to see where it goes.

Hmm...I should post some more of my story dreams. It'd be nice to see what others think of them.

What is going on in my head?!

Yeah...so lately I've just felt like I've been slowly falling apart. Most of my friends could probably tell something's off about me, but I've only really talked to three people. I was chatting with one of them tonight, and...now I wonder, am I constantly talking to these three people for selfish reasons? I struggle with the same problems over and over, and I try to reach out to my friends for help. I want to know that they care. That they think I'm not going insane. That I make some sense. I want somewhere safe to empty myself and arms wrapped around me to hold me before I collapse.

I suppose I ask too much of my friends. I don't know what to do now. Do I stop reaching out and try to bury everything again? I don't know...

It's gotten to the point that all I can do is cry. Is this what heartbreak is like? Despair? Hopelessness?

Realizations

In a conversation with one of my guy friends, the subject came up about people's natures and whether or not they should try to be different from their natures, try to "rise above them" and such. One could talk about wanting to be a better person, wanting to be kinder to others, things like that. However, my thoughts took me down a different path, thinking about how people often try to be things that they're not, and when they try to do that...it's painful.

I was kinda speaking from experience there. To just take a small example, I've basically for the past many years have tried to act and be like a man and not like a woman. Most of my role models were male, and because I admired them so much, I wanted to be like them. So I tried to adopt characteristics that I thought were part of what it was to be male (or at least what culture has said). I tried to be strong, not just for myself but to be strong for the people around me, to be independent, completely so that I wouldn't have to lean on anyone, invulnerable so that no one would have to carry me. Oh, and never ever cry. If I had to, I'd go cry silently into my pillow in my room with the door locked so that no one knew about it.

My thought was that I could be there to support others without them having to carry my problems as well. I think the origin of this thought was from when I was in 3rd grade and we discovered my brother had autism. Suddenly my parents couldn't be there for me as much as before because much of their time was spent trying to help him through therapies and the like. So I was often alone. For my sports games my parents couldn't be there in the stands, we eventually stopped going to movies, rarely did we go out to dinner...basically our lives revolved around my little brother. Of course, my parents tried to make sure I didn't stay home and do nothing, so they encouraged (or forced) me into dance lessons, sports teams, things like that. Since Mom and Dad often couldn't be there at the games or stay for the lessons, more often than not I was just dropped off and was left pretty much to myself.

As a response, I withdrew into myself, trying to not draw a lot of attention because my parents had to spend time watching my brother. Thus began the striving towards strength, independence, invulnerability, and dry tear ducts.

At first, I thought this was working. For a little while I was taking care of my little sister, even once in a while watching my brother when my parents went out, and sometimes took care of Mom when her back went out, so my philosophy was working.

Then things started happening in my life. I lost several classmates to car accidents, brain tumors, and suicide, I was often alone, had a very hard time making close friends, just felt lonely. For a while, whenever I felt sad or depressed, I just told myself I was being silly and to just ignore it. But eventually the periods of sadness grew longer and deeper in intensity. Over the past year things have just been breaking apart, and the weight of trying to be what I'm not has been crushing me.

I'm strong, but not so strong that I can suppport my problems by myself. I'm independent enough, but not so that I can't get through life without leaning on the people around me. I'm not invulnerable. In fact I'm quite vulnerable. And I cry.

My friend asked me why I've tried to be so invulnerable if there's people around me who will protect me. I guess I've always felt like I didn't have such people in my life. How do I trust the people closest to me?

Hero

So lately I've been going through a lot of problems and for much of the time felt kind of hopeless and helpless, in need of saving, you know? In one of my earlier posts I mentioned that I wondered if a hero would come and save me if I had been carried away by a dragon or something like that, and just recently, I realized that I do have such a hero in my life already. My dad.

I finally told my mom what's been going on emotionally in my life and how that's been affecting my health and such yesterday, and she called me back later and told me that Dad wanted to rush up to campus to fix everything right away. Apparently he's been fretting about anything and everything he could do to help me feel better, to destroy whatever was making me sad, things along those lines, even though there's not much to be done at the moment. It's totally sweet of him and I love him for it. It's like he's a warrior looking out for his princess.

It's both a happy thing and somewhat frustrating, because there's not really anything that he can do right now. But it means so much to me that Dad wants to fix everything.

I LOVE YOU, DAD!!!

Mornings. Ugh

I realized today that I rarely talk in the morning. At all. At most I say a couple of sentences and then just don't talk until lunch time when I see people. I suppose that's kind of normal, since if I'm not around people there's no reason to be chatting to myself, but even so. I can kind of hear my voice cracking a bit when I get started chatting with others, or sometimes it just plain doesn't want to work.

So, in short, I prefer the afternoons and evenings much more than mornings. Easier to talk then. ;)

Lies (ready thyself for another depressing entry)

It doesn't matter.

At least, that's what I keep telling myself. The schoolwork, the stress, the worries, the feelings of being desperately alone and unworthy of love.

It doesn't matter.

Maybe if I keep telling myself that, I'll eventually believe it, and if I believe it, maybe the pain will go away. That's all I want now. The pain to go away.

*sigh*

I told one of my friends last night that I was not broken and did not need his fixing, but that was a lie as well. I am broken. But he is not the one who can fix me. Really no human being has that ability, including myself. Believe me, I've tried, for many years I've tried. But everything comes apart again, but breaking off even more with it, so the pain becomes greater each time. Do I just ignore it? No, that's something I can't do, no matter how much I lie to myself...but I keep trying...

It doesn't mater...

Wonderings

Alright, this is going to be a bit weird, I know, but lately these thoughts have been sitting inside my brain, so I want to get them out. If people think that I'm crazy, weird, or something of that nature, fine. Whatever. You can skip this blog post and act like it doesn't exist.

It's just lately I've just been wondering what certain things are like.

Like how it feels to be kissed and to kiss someone. (Not like on the cheek, but, you know, kissed.)

What sex is like. (Scandalous! Don't worry, I'm waiting to find out what that's like until I get married.)

How hard it would be for someone (probably a guy) to pin me on the ground so that I couldn't escape. (Hopefully this guy will let me up if I ask nicely. If not, and this guy knows I'm ticklish, there's going to be problems.)

The reactions of my friends if I were to suddenly start crying in front of them.

What it's like to actually be held when I'm sobbing uncontrollably.

What it's like to stand on the beach and watch the sun rise or set over the ocean (gotta cover both coastlines).

What it's like to be restrained so as I cannot move. (Yeah...I know that one's kinda weird....)

In a world of knights and dragons, if there would be a hero willing to save me at the risk of his life.

What it's like to truly love with all of my being and be loved in the same way.

So...yeah...kinda a weird post, I know, but there ya go. I'm a weird person, and this is what you get from me at 2 in the morning.

A hating of myself

If there is one thing that I absolutely hate about myself, it's how quickly my emotions can change.

Another thing, I hate crying.

I hate that I hate crying. It doesn't make sense!

The only reasons I can think of are that I feel weak when I start crying, and ashamed, and because those do not make sense, I get angry.

And then the hate grows deeper because I am so angry at myself.

Wonderful, isn't it?

What makes all this even worse is that it's SO hard for me to talk to anyone when I really should. I don't mean just typing it out, like chatting to people online. That's something completely different. They can't see you crying then. I mean talking face to face and actually letting loose with the tears, and letting them hug and hold you when you're shaking from how hard you're sobbing.

I don't know why it's so difficult...I really want for someone to be there. I know I need someone there besides me, myself, and I (especially since all three of us are worthless at comforting each other), but I just...can't...

Frightening

So, for the past couple of days I've been playing beach volleyball with some of my friends around the dorm, and it's been great fun. Tis nice to be able to get out and actually get some exercise, however I keep forgetting I'm in a desert and that it requires I drink A WHOLE LOT MORE WATER than I what I'm used to doing in the Midwest.

The first time we played we were playing in the middle of the afternoon (when the day's at its hottest, I believe...not really a smart time to play...), and I swear we were playing for a few hours. I brought water, and drank many bottles worth of it; however, when we were done I noticed my hands trembling a lot. Far more than I remember seeing for quite some time. (The last time my hands were shaking like that was when I was sick with the flu and kinda overdosed on caffine.) I just took a shower, drank more water, and ate some Ritz crackers thinking that maybe some salt would help. (The tremors ceased within a...half hour, I think.)

Then yesterday our group ended up playing after sunset when it was starting to cool off. (There were overhead lights! Don't worry about that the problem of seeing the ball.) We played a couple games, but I really was not feeling good when we went back inside. I noticed that I wasn't playing as well towards the end of the second game, but I chalked that up to my asthma reacting to all the dust being kicked up from the sand and to my being-out-of-shape-ness. But when the excitement of play wore off and we headed back inside, I felt my hands trembling again, but also weakness in my leg muscles as well, the slightest hint of uncoordination beyond what I normally experience in day to day life, and just a general feeling of slightly ill.

(Some of this stuff may have to do with being out of shape, and that's fine. I can deal with sore muscles, but weakness and tremors are not normal in my experience.)

At any rate, I was slightly frightened, so I changed out of my sweat-soaked clothes and curled up underneath a blanket for the rest of the evening (yay cold chills?), trying to drink as much water as I could without feeling sick and trying to keep my hands from shaking. (Thanks, Nil, for getting water for me. I greatly appreciate it. Hugs for you later.)

It took a few hours before I felt slightly normal again, but really, this was kinda frightening for me. One thing that I'm afraid of is my body just giving out on me and of being so weak that walking up a couple flights of stairs is beyond my capacity. I don't mind other people being stronger than I am, but when my body just fails like that it's scary! When that happens, what am I supposed to do?

I guess it could be a lesson for me to drink water continuously all day (commen sense, yes?), but I think for now it might also be a good idea to stay away from volleyball for a couple days. Knowing me, that probably won't happen, but it might be a good idea.

One Song Glory

I went to see Rent for the first time with some of my friends last night and was reminded why I love musicals. The songs tend to be more powerful in a way that many other songs cannot hope to achieve. Songs in musicals have a backstory behind them, and because of that, more influence.

Specifically, I'm thinking of "One Song Glory" sung by Roger right before he meets Mimi for the first time. That song really speaks to me, and it's one of the reason's I really like Roger's character. As I'm writing this, I've been listening to it over and over, singing along and letting myself rise and fall with the music.

What about this song makes me want to keep listening to it? For that matter, what makes me want to listen to any song more than once? This requires some thought.

What makes a song speak to one person and not to another?

And So It Begins...

So, now I've joined the masses.

I have a blog!

To start things out, I thought it would be a cool thing to look at the importance of....WATER!!! One really doesn't realize just how important it is until either one moves to the desert where an angry sun attempts to melt you to the sidewalk or suffers a week of band camp during the summer on top of scorching pavement.

I know that I'm sounding like those pesky parents or medical officials, but truly, water is one of the most amazing drinks on the planet, and without it, you could die!

Yeah...

Rather pointless post, I know, but I was looking for something to write about and I had a bottle of water next to me. ;)