Harbinger, Tell Me

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every day
breeds a new day
closer to the void
to the storm

Harbinger,
what did you bring?

everyone says to me
“everything will be alright”
how would you know?
how would I know?
that it’ll all sweep away?

Harbinger,
what do you say?

The Brevity of Spring [gallery]

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It went quickly. It’s now late May and the foliage looks full, leafy and summery. It’s amazing to think that by six months, all will be bare again. But for a few weeks…

Reminders of autumn, with the falling petals
Reminders of winter, with the still bare trees.
Reminders of spring, with the blossoms and tiny young leaves.
Reminders of summer, with some trees beginning to fill out in full leaf.

It lasted just for a few weeks when suddenly everything was full and green. Like summer.

But for about two weeks in April, it was like this:

Lounging on a Horse

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Why lunge the horse, if you could just lounge on the horse? (Although if you’re doing both…do the former first!)

Horse Lounging
Me almost lying on Czar. Photo: September 2012. Taken by my mom. Edited by me

The photo is old (Sept 2012)  but I just edited the photo recently. I don’t have recent photos at this time (kind of hard to take photos of yourself on a horse!). Me lounging/cuddling on Czar, a 25-year old (at that time) Quarter horse that I’ve been riding for the past couple of years.

Okay, so it’s not quite lounging as I didn’t quite spry my legs across his back. But I’m not that brave  and it’s a bit of a way down! (About 16hh down…).  I also don’t really want to explain falling off from a standstill doing something stupid or did I want to fall off in front of my mom!

I have to say, I think I’m better at lounging on horses then lunging/longeing them! Ha! It was actually quite comfortable in the September sun. Any sports that involve using the horse as some sort of furniture?

I don’t do this bareback very often but I kind of like it better since you get to be so much closer to the horse.  I like the feeling of horsehair. It’s a bit slippery but it’s soo smooth.  I don’t ride bareback very often…and I’m not quite fit enough to do it, riding only weekly but if I rode more I might like to do more… you can really feel the movement.  And I’m so into feeling the horse beneath me.

(Okay, so I would probably be lounging in the dirt if he went kooky but he was chill. Or maybe I’ll just sit up and scoop my reins up. Or maybe I’ll have another crotch incident*….depends I guess.)

*once I was trotting another horse (named Red) bareback, I leaned forward, bounced and my crotch landed on his withers. That is so not recommended (and probably why cowboys don’t trot bareback that often).

I like the horse couch. I’m not the greatest rider or horse person but I’m good at lounging ON the horse. Ha!

Photo edited in Photoshop with a pen tablet.

Patterns and Rhythms

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There’s patterns everywhere,  in everything, I’m sure but I don’t actively seek them….they seem to come to me. Literature is full of patterns. Life is full of patterns. That’s how I usually write my essays – to find a pattern and then find meaning and symbolism within it.

I’m somehow comforted by patterns – to know that they exist, repeating themselves over and over. It gives predictability to unpredictability, it’s rhythm smoothing.

I detest the chaotic.  I don’t like not knowing about what is happening next. I don’t like not having the option of plotting the day, week or even month.  I don’t like randomness, even though I sort of think randomly (or maybe that’s just me and bizarre connections to things).

It’s true that I’m messy. But when someone tidies it up, it disorientates me, as if it disrupted a pattern that even I don’t really know ever existed. Some sort of pattern that only my intuition knows. That is not to say I find things easily – I don’t really, but I sure don’t with people move my stuff!

Despite my affinity with patterns, I hate math and cannot see the patterns in it. Apparently they’re there – people say there are. But I can’t see it or quantify it. I can’t make sense of the numbers in relation to the figures. They dissipate, empty of their supposed qualities.

I like rhythm, as a form of pattern. I do listen to music (mostly pretty relaxing stuff) contrary to popular belief. But I really like physical rhythms. It’s steady motion calms me. I especially like the motion of rhythm, leaning into the steady vibrating feel of the vehicle (buses, trains, cars). I learnt as a child to ignore my head banging into window as I slept on the school bus and now I find it comforting to feel the motion and the bumps. And somehow in the similar veins of movement, some things can hurt and feel good at the same time.

That is probably why I like riding horses too. I was never really the one to jump – the steady rhythm intercepted with the excitement of the horse, my inability to slow down (and half halt) said horse and the awkward small lurch through the air (in which I half dump my reins…oops).  It’s been a long time since I’ve jumped and I never really went that far in jumping – so I can’t say my recollection is correct. I might jump again with the right horse (after all, I did like jumping the infamously fat and lazy Dory) and if I can get into riding more (I only ride weekly) but I don’t think it’ll ever be my main focus. I like flatwork. Walk (okay, so we don’t actually work a lot in walk but it’s still good). Trot. Canter.  There is less unknown (of course with horses there is always an element of the unknown like invisible aliens in the ring corner that exist in a dimension only seen by your horse). There is less threat of being disconnected, although that does not mean the horse cannot pummel you through the air. At any rate, I never got far enough in jumping to really make an informed comment.

But it’s the rhythm that draws me. The steady beat of each gait (well, if you’re doing it right). Of the breath. Of everyone’s heartbeat, drumming the primeval drum. Every step pulsating, the rhythm steady, yet variable.  And then if  the world is still too empty, I can stop, lean down and let me arms embrace a sturdy neck (I ride English and this is also easy to do bareback – probably less comfy western though…).

The funniest thing about patterns though is that I suck at remembering them short term and I don’t necessarily remember all their details in my head when I try to.  Like I said, I don’t go actively looking for them. They come to me. Sometimes I’ll be thinking and then I think of the pattern of something in the literature and decide to use that for my essay. Sometimes I’ll just be deep and thought and then suddenly, I’ll notice patterns – of ideas, thoughts, visuals. When I close my eyes, it’s what I literally see, that is if I’m not thinking about something else…

Whatever the case. whether I’m looking for it or not – patterns and rhythms are everywhere.  Including how I’m unpopular I am. Hmmphh. (Well, people either like me or they really hate me or I simply don’t exist with the later being the most common and the first point being very, very, very rare…).

We need more unpopular, loner characters who are also good at nothing. I’m tired of characters having best close friends or loners finding love or being really, really, really good at something they love. But that’s another rant for another time.

On the Edge of the Unknown

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I couldn’t find an appropriate photo for this post (and don’t have enough inspiration to take one at the moment).

But yeah, I may have been more annoying than usual. I will admit that.

Lately, I’ve been edgy, impatient, more anxious then usual. I have a desire for instantaneous answers. As if I’m trying to secure some sort of certainty, trying desperately to tie peices of what I know to the trees with the prospecting hurricane of change.

This is me on the edge of the unknown. Filled with uncertainty, it feels like the end, even though people may assure me it’s a new beginning (although they actually haven’t thus far). I’m not sure. I don’t like change and someone has unleashed a hurricane on me. Oh I knew it was coming but didn’t think it’ll come this fast. I’m not longer quite sure who I am or what I’m good at or what I want. Everything feels impossible and so far away. As for me, I feel incapable and unwanted.

I feel so out of touch with everything and everyone. Most of my family seem to be on a planet far from my own. They don’t understand me or what I do or what I want to do. I feel so disconnected to them yet reliant. It’s not a good combo. I don’t really have friends. I have made zero friends in high school (maybe some loose acquaintances through) and I have certainly made zero friends in post secondary. While people talk about  the great social lives of high school and college/university, it can also be extremely isolating for someone with little to no social skills. I had more of a social life in elementary school.  By high school, my social life had died.  Now, I’m used to it being dead as I can’t imagine it any other way. If it’s activities where you make friends – well, I failed at that too (although I guess I made some loose acquaintances). Keep in mind that my loose acquaintance is very, very, very loose. It’s someone that I’ll know and the person will know me and I may exchange a few words (possibly a conversation but not required) but that it is. It is very, very, very loose, superficial but it’s at least a step up from pure alienation (I don’t know you and you don’t know me and we’ll all just ignore each other) which pretty much sums up my undergrad career.

I’m not sure about the horse thing, having attempting a sport that is way out of my league and class although maybe I just need to get a different side of it. It’s certainly not about the ribbons (I way prefer to ride more than show right now). There has been many disappointments in the realm, but I still love the feel of the horse underneath me (not on top, though I’ve been there too – avoid if possible) and the reaction when I find the “funny button” like a scratchy spot on the wither or wiggle of the muzzle (I’m not describing that well but it was so much fun) and the furry muzzles under my fingers (and on my face…yes, some bite…yes I generally know when they are going to bite). I’ve mostly given up big fantasies of showing, at least so I’ve gotten a little closer to earth in that way. I know I’ll never be an amazing rider or horse whisperer and my delusions of doing seem so mind-bogglingly naive .

I’m not naive anymore. I don’t want dreams to come crashing down again  or the flicker to gently peter out to the point that I shouldn’t care anymore (it doesn’t mean I don’t though). I had enough of that. The world is now a cynic’s world. The idealism of the future  – not just for me but the world as well has now faded.

But I don’t know how much longer it would be before everything will begin to unravel. When it would be clear that some things are dreams for another lifetime just like my family have hinted.  When everything falls apart, collapsing into a rubble of unfulfillable dreams.

Everything is spinning around, each piece of the wheel is threatening to break.

I’m at the edge of the unknown and I want to scream and cry and disappear (perhaps a wormhole will come…). There is too much happening. I want answers. I want a inkling of the known. I am lost and confused. I am also freaking out.

I don’t know where I am. I am wandering the deserted, dead landscape alone. I watch childhood innocence and idealistic dreams begin to smoke, desperately hoping it won’t alight. But the world is dark, cold. Everything is on the horizon. This is the event horizon. There is no going back. The days childhood have long past, even though I still essentially live like a teenager (that doesn’t mean I want to though but I don’t know any other way  and I can’t deal with it now with so many other unknown factors at the moment). But the bubble between youth and adulthood is about to be broken.

Somebody, please find me and take me back to the known. Or at least take me by the hand through the unknown.

I am terrified. (And edgy, anxious and about to freak out sooner than usual).

An Open Letter to Loneliness

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Dear Loneliness,

I know I’ve tried to pretend that you don’t exist. How I tried to pretend the you weren’t there in the shadows as me and Solitude spent increasing time together. I tried to believe that I was invincible to such human desires, as if I had evolved beyond that need.  I tried to believe that you would not be around even as I constantly hang out with your fraternal twin, Solitude.

But you were. I wouldn’t mind it if you occasionally stop by with Solitude every so often, but your lurking presence is grating. I’m not sure what to do with you, or me for that matter.

I’m sorry for ignoring you. It’s just that I thought I evolved past the need for trivial social bonds with a living creature (usually of own species but not necessarily but I haven’t been successful in either fronts).  I guess I haven’t. Not really though I’ve been desensitized to it. If you repeat something enough, it may not be any more true than it was initially but maybe it will seem more true (it probably won’t seem any less true).

So I finally I admit that you are here, hiding in the corners of my walls and in the shadows. I tried to pretend that you weren’t there, tried to pretend that I didn’t see you. But there you are.

Loneliness, I don’t know what I’m going to do with you. But I know that I am not immune to your grasp as much I tried to believe I was. Maybe you’ll have me. Maybe you won’t. I don’t know.

Sincerely, Jen

 

 

Confessions of an (Weirdo) English Major

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That’s right. I’m an English major and I have some confessions

  1. I’m a horrible speller, and I’m not that great with grammar. But I’m a horrible speller. 
  2. I’m not good at writing by hand
  3. I’m not a dictionary. (I remember the “general feel” of the word, the meaning but not the actual word! Very annoying!)
  4. I often skim when reading. I’m not even sure if read, I am skimmer.
  5. I don’t remember little details unless I find them greatly amusing or fascinating

Yet I have a B+ average (I occasionally get A-s too). It’s not great. It’s not bad. I think B+ is roughly 80% at my university in English (History is a bit more lenient in regards to percentages  but I still often get B+s). I’m currently finishing my last few classes. So I’m probably not that crappy in respects to performance….

So I have some explanations for these confessions.

Running into the Void

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Squirrel running into the shadows

There’s not much to say.

Just hightailing it into the void. The darkness. Without doubt. Without fear.

When the dark is once again cool, a sanctuary from the harsh light.

Where everything will be okay once again.

I wish.

Squirrel!

Note: I know it says read more but this all she wrote. I don’t quite have the excerpt thing under control.

An Open Letter to Solitude

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Dear Solitude,

You’re my only true friend.  The only friend who understands me and is always with me. You are the only one that I truly know, that will go wherever I go. The only one that will always be with me.

I know you’ll never leave me, Solitude. That you’ll always be there for me whether it be at noon or in the light of the moon.  That you’ll always embrace me whenever I need you. It doesn’t matter where I am. Whenever I need you, you”ll be there.

People will come and go, only momentarily connecting. They will come. Then they will go. Sometimes in the background. Sometimes in the foreground. Occasionally, they might step into my universe. Perhaps mingle it in for awhile and rarely, well nearly never truly voluntarily. I can’t make real friends. But you Solitude, will always be here with me. I know you will always be my friend.

I’m the most comfortable when I’m with you – whether it be indoors or meandering outside, through the streets and through the woods. I lean into your space. Even if other people are around, I’m still clinging to you. Even though I know you’ll never go, your familiarity is comforting.

We have long conversations together, just you and me – in silence. We spend endless hours together – just you and me.

I know that some people are scared of you. That they get you and you fraternal twin Loneliness missed up even though you two are different. But I don’t mix you two up. I’m not afraid of you. I look forward to walking with you and curling up in bed with just you and me.

Maybe some people think that it’s not good that we hang out so much together. And maybe sometimes, Loneliness goes come and join us. But I’ll always love you and I’ll never leave you. And I know that you’ll always be with me, even if no one else wants to hang around me.  Solitude, you’ll always be my best friend, since no one else will.

Much love,
Jen