This is the correlation between salvation and love.

It always intrigues me when people say that they found themselves in college; that there, they realized their 'true potential' and found their passion in life. They call it the best years of their life, the golden era where your only concerns are where the party's at this weekend and not bombing your classes. Experimentation, realization, desperation. You name it, these people claim college has it. I'd like to think it does too. I'd like to imagine that college is the closet door to the Narnia of my life. That beyond those heavy wooden doors lies a magical kingdom where life makes sense and happiness comes as much as the free air.

But I can't seem to find the passageway. I can't seem to find my way through the cloak of moth balls and heavy fur coats to emerge in the sunshine of paradise. I stepped into college and instead of finding my way out, I've gotten locked inside. I'm suffocating in my own carbon dioxide. Or is it monoxide? Either way, I'm dying. Slowly but surely. And for some reason, instead of fighting for my life I feel like giving up... And it's scaring the shit out of me.

I don't know what I want, who I want, where I want to be. My wants have gone on without me, leaving me to fight of the what's by myself.

What if I fail out of school?
What if I don't find my passion?
What if I do die alone?

What if, what if. That little phrase is the villain in this soap, with no hero in sight. My Superman hasn't shown up, and I still haven't figured out exactly why I continue to wait on the bag of shit. He is a boy after all.

I'm stuck, locked in my own theoretical closet. Not the kind that keeps the gay boys in, but the closet of indecision. The ever lurking question floats above my head in the cobwebs, breathing its repetition in my ear as it blows by. "What to do?" it says, tickling the back of my ear as it swirls around, freed by it's own laziness to not care where it ends up. It's job is to follow me forever, and haunt my thoughts like my mother. (But I love my mother, not this thing)

Is it me? Am I one of those few that are destined to fail, to be one of the statistics? I look around this house of girls and wonder, is it me? Am I the one destined to fall, to open the doors for the others? Am I the one to actually move to Canada, recording my thoughts privately in deep essays, only to be discovered upon my death at 38 of a fatal heart attack? Am I the one destined to give up what others dream about, to make a path that has never been taken before? To be alone, but achieve more then anyone could have ever dreamed for me? Or am I the one to become the 'dream', married with five kids, a picket fence, two dogs and nothing to call my own as an accomplishment?

I'm being taken down alive, unwilling but nowhere else to go. I want to be in Narnia, but how am I supposed to do it when everything's a mess? How do I decide what the choice is, the chance to make? I'd follow my gut but it's let me down lately.

I want to find myself, but it sure has found a damn good hiding spot.

I am what I am, and I do what I say. I believe what I believe, and I love because its right. Sometimes, life doesn't work out the way you want but all you can do is listen to your gut and do what feels right...because in the end, the only person you're going to be with forever is yourself and if you don't understand them, no one will.

Never give up on something you can't go a day without thinking about.

Ever just have those days, where no matter how hard you try, all you want to to is curl up in your room and cry? Eat a whole bag of chips, read crappy books and pretend that you life is where you want it to be? That it doesn't matter he won't call or text  you back, or that your now living in a cell block with a girl you don't know who your afraid hates you. That even though you haven't seen your best friends in weeks, they might still love you. That in the end everything happens for a reason.

I believe in the idea that things happen for a reason. That a snowstorm isn't just due to a pack of in-climate weather, and that the reason why your hair looks so terrible is because it just has another motive. But sometimes, I can't help but wish that these things came with a disclaimer. Be careful, heartbreaks just around the corner. I mean, they wouldn't even have to be legitimate disclaimers. Gosh, you could even give them to me in fortune cookie form. Anything would be appreciated at this point.

All I know is, I love that my life has some sort of path that its going on, but it sure doesn't help my sad mentality to have everything go up in smoke at once.

Never more to be alone

I've decided...I'm taking it back. I'm taking back my right to make my own choices, and my right to decide how my life is going to go. I'm taking  back what I used to have, the self confidence and the idea that I'm something worth while. I used to walk around like I owned the place, and you know what? I'm going to start again. Because god damn it, the dudes at Super One seemed to think I did, so why can't I think so too?

I'm done letting other people decide. It's my life too. Why do I need to wait around and let everyone figure out my life? Sometimes you just have to jump, headfirst. I haven't done that in awhile and I'm suffering for it. I've passed plenty of doors because I've been waiting for the one to unlock itself. But I can't do that forever. I can't wiggle it and pound on it to be let in because I can't break down steel. I can only tap gently and hope that maybe whoever or whatever behind it wants to let me in. I'm not going to sit back and lose the chance to make something out of my life.

I'm taking back this hallway, and these doors. I'm going to open the ones I want to and I'm going to pass by the ones I don't. I'm tired of waiting for people to unlock them for me. I have the keys to all the ones I want to because I work hard and make the choices that need to be made.

And as crappy as this one is, I'm making it. I'm taking back my keys and putting on my sweet kicks; kicking ass and taking names once again. I wrote a post awhile back, with my paper for EN 211 in it.

            "I still hated who I had become. I hated that the self confident, defiant girl I had been in high school had somehow disappeared, leaving behind someone unsure of the next step. I was afraid to make a wrong move and plunge down into the canyon of failure that I had been warned about multiple times, afraid of not being able to handle the real world."


I'm taking her back. I'm resurrecting what once was and putting her with what now is.

Because it's my life. And I'm making my decisions again, now and forever.


Sorry Dorothy, its a rant again. But I guess I needed it.