Missing Words... Sometimes I'm the Wind...

I can't sleep... this is not an unusual occurrence as anyone who knows me can tell you. Often, if I do sleep, there's usually something wrong... like some sickness or virus that no one knows the name of coursing its way through my system forcing me to be... you know, human, and sleep.

So, I haven't written anything on here in awhile, and since I'm not sleeping anyway, I figured why not? I'm not going to do an update from my last post, mostly because I'm not entirely sure anyone is reading this freakin' thing anyway, and if I'm the only one, well then I'll write whatever I want, or neglect to write the things -- forget it, that got really complicated in my head before I even got it out.

“You could hear the wind in the leaves, and on that wind traveled the screams of the kids on the playground in the distance, little kids figuring out how to be alive, how to navigate a world that wasn't made for them by navigating a playground that was.” (TFiOS)

Quotes! Lately, I've  been quoting The Fault in Our Stars a lot, and I'm ashamed to say that I still haven't read it yet. As a writer these are two very large red marks on my score board. I haven't been reading or writing. Shame. Is there such a thing as a quarter-life crisis? If there is, I might be having one. Only I can't buy a shiny new penis shaped sports car to announce it to the world.

Anyway, back to the lovely quote. I love the way John Green words things. Sometimes I think in his books he's always saying the same thing, over and over again, but the words are just so pretty you really don't mind that you've heard them before in a different order. There's something to be said about the playground theory because I really don't think the world was made for any of us... young, old, in between. I think we're all still on that playground trying to figure out how the hell to hold on to the monkey bars because that gravel is just waiting to scrape up some knees.

I never could navigate monkey bars. Several reasons, one being I've never had any upper body strength to speak of. I was always for the slides and swings and the tires that you twisted until you couldn't twist them anymore, and when you let go you just spun forever. Didn't matter how nauseous you got or how raw your hands were from gripping the metal chains... just mattered that the world was one giant blur, and you couldn't tell where one piece started and the other ended. The sky and the ground, hands and metal, everything bled together... like a water painting.

I just wanted to fly... even when I was little. Being older hasn't changed that... I still imagine being a balloon or a kite. Sometimes I'm the wind. Or the ocean. Or roots. Or the moon. Lately, I've just been me...

"...But all the magic I have known, I've had to make myself." (Magic, Shel Silverstein)



Yours, in a claustrophobic Peanut Tin,
Carissa