only what you can manage sometimes,
in the hardcore silence
they always whisper
"I thought we still had a bird? don't know that noise, where it comes from maybe."
could you answer
in
shorter
sentences
please.

kept in mind that at least we were always young
maybe we weren't
maybe we were old
maybe hearing the Bible through the wall isn't good enough
he said.
he said while he was sleeping.
he didn't know he said it
because he sleeps so hard for 8 hours
with a mohawk. when did that happen?
pretending a couple times.
we did that

So I woke up and made a cup of coffee and stared at my pictures for a minute. I read Dave Smallen's blog and it made me wish I were out on the road again. He always does that to me. Makes me want to drive across Wyoming at 2 a.m. stopping at creepy gas stations. Drive across Nebraska, mid-afternoon, humming along to Bob Dylan while everyone's asleep.
I took a shower, and cleaned up my room a bit since my grandparents are coming, and I'm the only one with my own room so....
I'll be sleeping on the couch. I don't really mind so much. I'm just thinking it feels good to be in a normal life. To not be sleeping all day on Saturday because I worked a grave, you know? To be doing normal chores and talking to my parents like we used to. To run errands with my windows down.

"Suppose I kept on singing love songs,
just to break my own fall...
just to break my fall."
-Regina Spektor

i'm wide awake its morning

Watched Children of Men with Ben, Eric, and a snoring Niels. It feels nice after pauses to be with who you are good at being with. wthi. whit. Eating marshmallow popcorn and sourpatch anything-in-general. Nice nice nice.

Before that, I walked over to the Nicklecade and played video games and gambled with the RockU boys and Britt and Philip. I put a nickle in the jukebox and got it to play Zombie by the Cranberries and the Saga Begins by Weird Al, and Mr. Jones by Counting Crows. Brittni won the jackpot and we stared at the fake pretzels in the fake box to keep them warm. ???

And its four in the morning again, and I'm awake again. Dangit Gina.
But oh. well.

Listening to "The Animals Were Gone" by Damien Rice makes me want to die. But it's so good. I'm torn.

I'm drinking 32% decent coffee at 3:38 a.m. even though I'm going to sleep in five hours. It's hard to tell when it's going to keep me up or not.

I spent 2 hours before work playing around with pictures on my computer. I try to tell myself that I really do have hobbies. That I really don't spend all my time working or hanging out with friends or scrambling to get my homework done for school. Sometimes I feel like I am counterproductive, so I have this stuff to try to make me feel balanced. To show my parents? Look Mom, I do stuff. Look, Dad, I don't just dissapear into outerspace. But they're not asking, I'm just telling.

Oh, Damien. Why are you making me drink this coffee?

"Sometimes I listen to French music while I'm getting ready and about 5 minutes after leaving my apartment I realize I'm dressed like a French prostitute."
-Alison

Which is funny because I don't think Alison could ever dress immodest at all.

Mmmm. I love new phone batteries.

It was a Friday the night his lung collapsed. I remember because my dad and I were at a Friday Night Live. I had my hair all done up, and I had a scarf on, which is something I usually didn't do, but my hair was pretty long (for me) and I felt like wearing a scarf for some reason.
My aunt came over to my dad, and they were quietly talking, and I had a headache. I also had a hard time standing, and I should have been home in bed. I didn't really know what was supposed to happen after your lung collapses. Does the other one keep working on its own? How long can you live that way?
When I woke up the next morning, I was in so much abdominal pain that I could barely get out of bed. I walked up to the living room to tell my parents I had to go to the doctor, and they were all sitting around staring at the floor.
Then they told me that he died. I don't even remember if I cried. I think the crying was later on. I even went to church that night, because everything was completely surreal. I did powerpoint and maybe that was when I cried.
Then, that Sunday, we took off in an airplane and its a funny thing to look down on the clouds and wonder about God, and where He is. Is He in outerspace?
That week was a blur of hotels and freezing cold, my grandmother crying, absense of music, of me taking pills and crying a lot, and sitting on the couch, expecting him to come through the door at anytime. To tell us it was all just a joke. To just be home from work, or to just come home from the grocery store with ice cream sandwiches.
Because the last time I saw him, he was strong. He was standing at the door with my grandma, waving goodbye, and nothing was that wrong. Drugs can mask anything for a while.

I don't know what's brought on all the memories. Maybe it's this headache.

thoughts as one would pull onto the 500 south on-ramp when they were facing west into the sunset, with the window down slightly at 59 miles per hour:
life is perfect
he smiles slightly when she talks about the revolution, can't stop himself, doesn't catch himself
God is beautiful
life is perfect
need to find an amp
miss coffee with Ashley
the sunset is beautiful and the weather is perfect
its always the little things
pray pray pray
every little thing about his smell and his face
"it's the wrong kind of place"
life is perfect because
God is perfect
iced coffee in the sun and my pants rolled up and no sweater on
"is that alright with you? put my gun away when it's loaded"
righteous by faith
grasping at straws sometimes made
life perfect.
and always, it is beautiful.

"I think I am getting love, Rachel."
"You are falling in love?"
"Yes. I am getting in love."
-Ana (my Brazilian coworker) to me

Ana is the single mother of three children, one of whom is as old as I am. We often eat together, and even though she is twice my age, we get along really well. I'll miss her, if I go.
Huh.

"I could use a really good cup of coffee right about now, Joe."

Twelve hours is a long time to work. A really long time.

Wish I was far away, somewhere really warm, under a tree, and that it was day time, and that I was listening to Rilo Kiley, and that I was wearing a tank top and eating a popsicle and that all my troubles were far behind me. And suddenly there was no such thing as work or school.
Oh man. I am tired, officially.

Another
nightmare.

Do they ever go away, when you're trying. Things.

I felt slightly guilty, upon waking, that it was 11:53 a.m. and I hadn't gotten up with Noah to watch a black and white horror B-movie because he would be scared to watch one alone. I'm pretty sure that kid has seen Lord of the Rings and other graphic, possibly R rated movies, but old black and white Twilight Zone episodes scare him so bad he can't sleep.
I rubbed my eyes and heard the dogs barking really loudly and him yelling at them to be quiet, and I laughed out loud. I pulled the sheets up over my head and realized that I love my life. That life is beautiful even in it's consistent difficulty. Sometimes I think that God likes me just a little more than I deserve, because how else could I get away with so much all the time? Like skipping classes on Thursday for Kelsea's birthday.

Band practice was so much fun today. Learned Kelsea's new song and Steele and Kim came so we could work on our girl band for Women's Conference. Steele sat and ate communion bread and drank coffee while we rocked out with no drums.

Then I went up to Salt Lake to have a fancy dinner made by Chef Ben, and even with no rice wine, it was amazing. :) We watched the end of Mystery Men and all of Bottlerocket with Matt 1 and 2, Niels, Eric, and Phil, then Dan.

It was a good night, even though I had to come to work, and it was an amazing weekend of running around Utah and having a lot of good times with good friends.