and...

I love her style!!!

intimidada

You can give me any reason to cut me a bit of slack. I'll logic away any of your worries. The same never seems to work for me.

I want this so badly, but I step in front of the people and now I feel unworthy. Embarrassed of myself, almost, as if I need a disclaimer -- this isn't going to be all that exciting, but it will be a challenge for me.

I've never felt that way before. I'd always been eager, despite anyone else's skills, to showcase. Especially last. I will move in a way that you can't.

Except now I'm uncertain. Now I doubt. Now I'm intimidated and not sure if I deserve this, despite how much I've worked for it and continue to work now.

You have to believe me when I say I don't choke under pressure. The adrenaline fires me up. Lately, it's receeded when I needed that final push.

Another chance. To dissemble again?

Tell me why you believe. Maybe I'll believe, too.

transcend

Romantic literature strikes at a time when inspiration and motivation are wanting.

I'd almost forgotten that simple sensation of looking and feeling, without other responsibilities crying at the rim.

Nature provides us, perhaps, with everything - food - resources - inspiration - religion - shelter - simplicity.

I am neither a hippie nor an environmentalist, but I tend to shy away from extravagance. Rarely makeup, some of the same clothes from middle school (hey, they still fit), content with the same technology as long as it functions, always enjoying genuine intellect and wit. I want to like you for what you are, not just for the arts you create.

I would like to walk under the moon on a summer's night in gentle silence, and look up at that with the same name as mine. I want to feel a connection between myth and myself.

Overwhelm me, stars, sky, waves, breezes. Deserts, mesas, oceans, lightning, woods, grass, I have seen you all. But have I lived them?

We could spend the night, watch the earth come up

Without noise, without needless chatter, without need to exist. Just for a night. Just for a moment.

wanderlust

I should spend my free time in writing, really writing. Perhaps tonight! For now, this shall suffice.

I prefer fiction and retrospect. I do not spontaneously react in the wrong way. Ay, girl, haven't you learned from the last time(s)? She's always sorry, even before she's opened her mouth.

I want to roam and run on other lands under this same sun. ((Well, the sun isn't actually out in Cortland at the moment, but one can imagine.)) I need to see another life and live it, for a time. That's what brought me here. That's what bears my mind elsewhere, as much as it frightens me.

Too much, never enough. I enjoy those moments where I feel I am right where I should be, and that neither my words nor dreams shall fly astray. Like with you.

My mind's filled with words right now. Images, interpretations, the significance of a line abruptly ended. Did I solve that riddle? Even if I did, more follow.

I step outside into the brightness, into a world that feels somewhat less satisfying, a little more shallow, before I reassimilate completely.

Words. Real, powerful, heavy, light, and all with meaning. This world makes me forget, sometimes. Silence is not the ending, not at all. This is a feeling.

I don't know if you'd entirely understand.