Grief

Well, I just found out that J.D. Salinger passed away yesterday. A mere weeks after finishing The Catcher in the Rye, and now I find out that he's gone. Such a wonderful story, such a beautiful character....so true to real life. Is it possible to feel so much grief for someone you've never met before? Or for the absolute death of your favorite literary character? This marks the death of his story. Holden Caulfield will certainly not be in another Salinger work. I feel so beside myself that I'm almost willing to cry over the devastation, but I'm at odds with the reason for feeling that way. Really, it's just a story afterall.

I still haven't gotten out of my Kings of Leon phase...and I probably won't for quite some time. That's the music on right now and I still haven't really gotten into the grove of one of the albums yet.

Etched on my heart, stained my soul
Moments never fleeting.
Songs from the moment,
Visions burst into sight
Goosebumps over my skin take me back.

The scent in the air, feeling the moment.
Encompassed in its cocoon, comfort in the warmth.
Blood spills from the wound, etched forever strong.


...still working on that one.

Arizona

Ok, so the song "Arizona" by Kings of Leon has stuck enough in my head that I've finally figured out part of the reason why. When I finished The Catcher in the Rye by Salinger a few weeks ago, I LOVED the character of Holden. Holden is such a great character. I love his attitude. I love the ease of his character. I love his openness to say whatever he wants, whenever he wants, to whomever he wants. He's a lot like what I would be like if I didn't have a filter. I battle with my filter, but most of the time, the filter works out for the better. Holden, on the other hand, doesn't much care. Now, I probably should have seen the end of the novel coming, but I was so disturbed...I LOVED his character. I mean, I'm completely enthralled with him...and I read the book weeks ago. Rarely am I so stuck on one character that I can't stop thinking about it. Books, sure, but one character...very rare. I was totally mesmerised by his story. Probably the language in the story that's so true to human life, that many writers don't come close to that sort of reality in a novel...that's what pulled me in. Holden is like the guy friend you want to always have on your side. (Thankfully, I have awesome guy friends who remind me a bit of Holden on occassion.) That's probably another reason I love him as a character.

At any rate, I started this post by talking about Kings of Leon, and that was my intention. This crazy song gets in my head and it isn't the lyrics, but it's the tone of the music that makes me think of Holden Caulfield walking around New York City trying to figure out what he's going to do next. I just feel like the music for the song is a sort of soundtrack to the novel. I suppose the line "too drunk to remember" reminds me of Holden for obvious reasons, and "I kinda think I like her/I kinda think I do" reminds me of his relationship with Jane Gallagher. The lyrics lend themselves to the decision for this to be a soundtrack moment, but there's something to be said for the instrumentals and his astrayed venture.

Be here Waiting...

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm completely consumed by whatever music is running around my head at that particular moment in time, but with lyrics like these, I just have to put them here. (Apparantly I'm on a Kings of Leon obsession...don't worry; it's a healthy obsession.)

Kings of Leon-On Call

She said call me now baby, and I'd come a running.
She said call me now baby, and I'd come a running.
If you'd call me now, baby then I'd come a running.

I'm on call, to be there.
One and all, to be there.
And When I fall, to pieces.
Lord you know, I'll be there waiting.

To be there.
To be there.

I'm on call, to be there.
One and all, to be there.
And When I fall, to pieces.
Lord you know, I'll be there waiting.

I'm gon' brawl, so be there.
One for all, I'll be there.
And when they fall, to pieces.
Lord you know, I'll be there laughing.

I'd come a running.
I'd come a running.
I'd come a running.

To be there.
To be there.

I'm on call, to be there.
I'm on call, to be there.
I'm on call, to be there.
I'm on call, to be there.

----------------------------------------------------
Now, I think this calls for some explanation. I'm one of those people who regards friends as family members. My girlfriends are like my sisters, and my guy friends are like brothers. I love them all dearly, and if anything were to happen to any one of them, I would be there as fast as I could make plans to cover hours at work and have arrangements made for my courses. I'm not sure what I'd do without my "extended family." I'm completely self-less when it comes to taking care of other people, sometimes to my detriment, but I wouldn't change how I feel about taking care of my friends since they've taken great care of me.

The lyrics are simple and straight-forward, but the sentiment is there. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, if it weren't for some of my dearest frinds, I'm not sure I'd be here right now.

Song lyrics currently stewing around in my head:

Kings of Leon-Arizona


That taste
All I ever needed
All I ever wanted
Too dumb to surrender

She shakes
Like the morning railway
Ch-ch-checking me out
Someone on a shoulder

The lamp
Flickers in the bedroom
She must feel as awkward
Whorehouse Arizona

Now go
Stand up to a giant
Say that I'm a fighter
Too drunk to remember
Too drunk to...

Shake hands
My face is laying on the pavement
Tasting something awful
I hate when that happens

She wades
In and out of sexy
She must be plum crazy
I kinda think I like her
I kinda think I do
---------------------------------------------------
I like the lyrics just fine for this one, but I think it's a mix with the instrumentation that really pulled me in from the beginning. That and something raspy and real about his voice....There's definitely something mind blowing about getting lost in the moment of singing a song and channelling the energy to jump inside that moment.

I think the first two stanzas are probably my favorite. And at the end of the 4th stanza as he says the last "To" Ugh, my heart stops a little in that instant. Love it.

Lately, I've been feeling....

a lot like this:


Let me preface by saying, I think this is the first picture that I've actually posted on this blog of myself that isn't my profile picture. It quite possibly could be the first photo period.

The last few weeks I've been (in a serious way) emotionally charged. Perhaps some of that will go away as time goes on, but for now, I'm so uncertain of so many things that I'm scared, edgy, nervous. All of my worst habits are nervous habits. I used to bite the inside of my lower lip when i got nervous-not sure how this habit got started-but recently I've started biting my actual lip to the point of bleeding. This cannot be good... The worst part of it is that I didn't even notice I was doing it until it was pointed out for me. For some reason the first few times I didn't even taste the blood on my lips.

I need some serious time to sort out the conundrum in my head. I'm going to need to start advocating for the mental health day as PTO for the workplace...

A box to be reopened, though it was never shut

Everyone always says, "This too shall pass" after something horrible has happened to you. I'd love to believe that these things can be dealt with and sealed away in some dark place, where the box will never have to be opened again. I, however, have certain life experiences that I'm nearly certain will be etched into my being for the rest of my life. At some point, I will come up with enough courage, focus, direction to write about those life altering events, but for now, I simply can't talk about it. I've read other people say that they will never get over certain life experiences, and I couldn't agree more. I don't think I'll ever stop thinking about it, or stop being in pain over it. That's probably the reason people see psychiatrists, but I don't believe in being psychoanalyzed. I don't believe in being medicated for something like this. The only way I know to deal with it is to just let the emotion come when it needs to. When I need to break down, then that's what I need to do. When I need some solitary time to get my thoughts sorted, then I need to be alone. I know what sort of space I need for certain things and there are just some topics that I'm not yet ready to put on a shelf in the back of my closet. I don't think it'll ever truly pass.

In all of that is the hardened heart of my past, a heart that will never be the same. I know that to some, my past was not difficult, and that I should be over all of it by now, but I don't believe in closed books. There are some books on my shelf that I've read over and over again, and I would still love them, even if I knew every word by heart. I still cry everytime I read The Notebook and I remember just where I was and what I was listening to the first time that I read it. I know the ending. I know it's coming. But everytime, I need a half a box of Kleenex just to make it to the end. The same thing happens with the film version.

I can always count on one thing, though. My emotions totally rule my existence. You'd think that with my hardened heart I'd be over that by now, but I'm still just as emotional and affected as I always have been. I completely let my emotions take over all rational thought... Now I'm inclined to believe that this isn't a bad thing, especially since emotion makes some of the best writing, however, in a time when you're needing to be rational more times than not, this becomes a problem. With that said, if I could live inside a jar with my bottled up emotions, I absolutely would.

Half of the time I write these and I wonder if I've made any sense at all...because mostly I just write to get it all out of my head and the writing takes a completely different form than what I had intended, but sometimes that's just necessary.

...And in the depths of my sadness, I will alone be. With myself and my thoughts, --forever we will be free.

This part of my life is called "Practice."

Something sparked in me this afternoon. Usually, on my days off I find myself catching up on housework, homework, organizing something, listening to music, running errands....rarely do I stay at home. So, after running some errands and taking a shower, I decided that despite the fact that I don't really have time this week for fun and games-I'm taking my Praxis exam on Saturday-I should get out my violin and test the waters.

After playing through some fairly easy stuff that I could just pick up and sight read, I have deciphered the following:

Did it hurt? Yes.
Did my fingers go numb? No.
Was a half hour a reasonable amount of time to play? Not really, but at this point, I'll take it.
I absolutely needed a break after playing for that long, and while that's not enough time for a girl who used to practice 4 hours everyday, a half hour is better than no practice time at all. My shoulder for some reason is hurting, so I'll need to stretch more than before I think.

Perhaps I'm in a good mood, or I'm not really sure....but I didn't break down and cry as I thought I would have. I'll get through this...and find myself somewhere in this mess.

Ring a bell?

Did I write this? No. But right now, it feels like I would have written something very similar. I have a hard time thinking that artists who write their own lyrics haven't gone through these experiences themselves, so I'm hoping that Flyleaf and I can commiserate about how we feel. Enough now.

"This Close" (Flyleaf)

I had a dream that we were dead
But we pretended we still lived
With no regrets, we never bled
And we took everything life could give
And came up broken, empty handed in the end

In the hearts of the blind
Something you'll never find
Is a vision of light
With the voice of the dead, I'm screaming

I dont know who I am anymore
Not once in life have I been real
But I've never felt this close before
I've been looking in your window
I've been dressing in your clothes
I've been walking dead
Watching you
Long enough to know I can't go on

Had a dream that fire fell
From an opening in the sky
And someone warned me of this hell
And I spit in his naive eye
And left him crying for my soul
He said would die

In the hearts of the blind
Something you'll never find
Is a vision of light
With the voice of the dead, I'm screaming

I dont know who I am anymore
Not once in life have I been real
But I've never felt this close before
I've been looking in your window
I've been dressing in your clothes
I've been walking dead
Watching you
Long enough to know I can't go on

In the hearts of the blind
Something you'll never find
Is a vision of light
With the voice of the dead, I'm screaming

I dont know who I am anymore
Not once in life have I been real
But I've never felt this close before
I've been looking in your window
I've been dressing in your clothes
I've been walking dead
Watching you
Long enough to know I can't go on

I've been looking in your window
I've been dressing in your clothes
I've been walking dead
Watching you
Long enough to know I can't go on

The State of being Worried

People often say that I worry too much, or that I think too much. Really, I worry that I worry too much...and that's saying something. Who worries about worrying?!? If I made a penny for every worry I had, I'd be a VERY rich girl. Unfortunately that's not the case. I over prepare for each scenario usually, and anxiety, more than anything else, rules my life. Anyone who knows me well enough really knows that I startle easily and that if there's something that makes me nervous, it'll make me nervous to the point of sickness.

Now, when I mean "to the point of sickness," I mean I literally. I'll get into a "mood" and stew over the issue until I've got an upset stomache that will just not go away or I worry myself into throwing up. This is something I'm going to have to hide. Once I start student teaching...mind you this is a year from now...I can't worry myself into sickness with my students. This definitely worries me. I'm worrying about the fact that something worries me....see a trend? Multi-layered worrying.

J.D. Salinger had a good rant about worrying in The Catcher in the Rye that went a little something like this:

"I was so damn worried, that's why. When I really worry about something, I don't just fool around. I even have to go to the bathroom when I worry about something. Only, I don't go. I'm too worried to go. I don't want to interrupt my worrying to go. If you knew Stradlater, you'd have been worried, too..."(40).

Really, I thought it was funny that I've been working on this blog for quite some time, and while I'm casually reading J.D. Salinger, I come across the perfect description of worrying. I have to say that though the book is filled with vulgar language (not that I much care, mind you), it truly is one of the best things I've read in awhile, and I'm only about half way through. I'm enthralled with the character of Holden. He's the stock character bad boy, but he's still the bad boy that you know in real life and are friends with. There are parts of the book that I find myself completely identifying with, and the things in between keep me searching for more. Reading the book is like talking with one of your friends over a beer about the messed up things in their life. I'm just so interested in what Holden's story has to offer that I keep going back and forth between reading it and trying to do some real work, but the "real work" is far less interesting...

At any rate, my worried state is something to be worked on, and perhaps someday I'll find the answer. I find myself constantly evolving, but sometimes the evolving process goes in directions that I have little control over it seems. This is something to be reconciled....not that I'm saying I need to be in control of it, but rather that I need to assist the evolving process into going a direction I understand...more on that later.