Dresses

You know, I'm not the pretty, graceful girl everyone wants. I'm bitter, sarcastic, cynical, obnoxious, and terribly, terribly, flawed.

I'm not feminine or girly nor do I know how to act it. I can't seem to pick out flowing, soft, flowery dresses and skirts and wide-sleeved blouses to match; I happily mold into my plain t-shirts and baggy jeans. My hair is pulled back and unbrushed and I've never quite gotten down the loose, effortlessly beautiful style.

The words that come out of my mouth aren't blooming compliments or airy laughs; they're hard-hitting truths, and more likely than not, written prose.

I grin too wide and laugh too loud.

Leaning on one arm and popping up a leg prettily is more of a challenging task than solving Euler's equations, and flirting is another mythical concept altogether.

I'm sub par. A commodity, a rarity, an unpairity in the gene pool.

The only underwear I own is black cotton and silk is a mystery fabric to me.

My world is seen through clear glasses, precise. What I see, I say.

Glamour and beauty are as foreign as charm and nothing about this will change, not until I make a conscious effort to stop focusing on universal secrets and pay attention to the realities of my own consciousness.
That's what it is.

Noah and the Whale

It's funny -- it's uncanny -- how a measure of notes and lethargic whispering of a song can mean so much in just so many verses.

The timing has to be there, too. The mathematical precision of the moment about to pass, and, enter, first chorus. Perfectly synced with heartbeats and intangential ideas. What is this emotion, and why does a song run, crawl, flow, drift, exist so frustratingly, so perfectly, next to it?
Frustration in perfection. That's where we are.

So, let's see. Number one.

5 Years' Time

Following?

Number two.

The First Days of Spring

And I wish I could detach the associations and the memories and the overarching relativities, but that's what songs do to you. That's what lyrical bars and human experiences are. Just words and guitars.

A Letter to a Friend

I want to make as many people happy as I can. Whether this be through good conversation, small acts of kindness, or just listening to someone, it needs to be done. The world needs more humility. I know it won't change anything overnight, or even in years, but there needs to be a starting point. In Gandhi's famous words I live more and more by, "be the change you want to see in the world." It's so true. No one takes the time to realize that we're all human and we all crave the same basic things... We've lost touch with humanity so much, too preoccupied with the repetitive social cycle and ridiculous standards. Really, where's the human element? The compassion, the love, the simple understanding? Why does no one think?

I see so many problems everywhere, so much hate... Someone got shot in the head, point blank, in a robbery at Walmart yesterday. The guy was 20 and had dreams of attending pilot school. He was earning money for his education, and was shot just for that - money. I still don't believe money is the root of all evil. Money is tangible symbolism. Human nature gone awry is the root of evil, and I believe that can be fixed. We were all born a blank slate and loaded with unique experiences that shape us - good, bad, unfortunate, interesting, dull. How we respond to them is where the defining factor lies, but how we respond also depends on experiences even before that... Where does it start? When does it end?

There's so much mystery in the world, so much uncovered, so much yet not understood. I don't claim to know everything about the world. The more I know - and I consider myself well-educated - the more I really don't know. The more I wonder. The more I think. This might explain why I've been so completely lost these past few years... I know so much, but don't know anything at all. In fact, how can you know anything if it's all relative anyway? It's an unsettling, stomach-tickling-and-turning thought, that nothing we know is real. We do not see what is real; we see what we are.

And all these thoughts and sights and sounds and observations are steadily driving me to the edge. It's lonely here, watching everyone make prom preparations while I contemplate the intricacies and complexities of the universe. Still haven't assumed normalcy. Maybe I should. Maybe that's the key to survival, to happiness. But where will the world be, if one more person who preoccupies herself with starving children in Uganda, our civil rights and liberties, human nature, philosophy, words of the centuries, love, compassion, understanding...were lost? It's an uphill battle we're fighting, Melanie, and it's just as hard to give in as it is to keep going. We're stuck in realization and wavering on action. At least, I am.

There's so much good in the world. So many amazing things, but they're easily overshadowed by media negativity and triviality. People need to learn to see.

Someday, Melanie, someday.