Lucy the Rock

I’ve decided to name my magical rock Lucy. Lucy the Rock. Not as harmonious as Lucy the Elephant, which I was going to name my elephant object/ toy/ decor if I ever got one. No, Lucy the Rock it is.

After receiving Lucy as a present, I left her behind at her previous owner’s place. I KNOW, RIGHT!?!! I wrote about Lucy (see post below) and how she became an instant inspiration for the first half of my Sunday. I was so caught up in the inspiration that I lost track of time and had to run (well, almost literally) to work. It was only when my supervisor asked how my day was that I remembered I forgot Lucy on the desk. SHIT! How could I have forgotten my magical rock! I felt I was betraying Lucy and for that I’d have to pay the penalty of not having any wishes granted. Or just be denied of them altogether.

But I didn’t forget about thinking of a “legitimate wish” to wish upon Lucy! People say it’s the thought that counts, right? So if I was thinking of a wish while Lucy was waiting for me on my friend’s desk, everything will be okay? The universe is still right, time is passing, and life is happening… but I’m freaking out… a little bit. Then my friend tells me rocks are patient. It’s okay, Lucy the Rock will wait for me!

 

Two Perfect Circles

I’m having a weird morning. Weird in that I’m in my friends’ apartment by myself (they must trust me a lot), and weird that I’m in my friend’s room using her computer when she’s not home. I’m cold. There wasn’t nearly enough cover for my refuge on the pull-out couch last night. I’m wearing my jacket in the house, and my toes are not warming up in my socks. Weird that I’m having junk food for breakfast, and chocolate-covered butter cookies for lunch. A weird but inspired morning. Inspired because I’m in a place I’m not supposed to be (I’m still not used to the idea that my friends are okay with me staying at their place when they’re out -not that I have a problem with it). Inspired so that I’m sitting here and writing. Inspired because I am having a “moment”; one filled with uncertainty, unresolved feelings and all kinds of fleeting thoughts. But mostly inspired because the two people who live here inspire me.

A rock was given to me when I got out of bed this morning… but not before two bear hugs when I was still lazying around under the covers – I LOVE staying at my friends’! It was a rock from Cortes (I think; can’t really remember where she said now), a small island off the coast of Vancouver. This rock not only has a perfect circle, it has two: one inside another. Therefore it is magical. I am to make wishes. When the wishes come true I am to pass this rock along. I listened intently to the instructions and held the rock carefully in my hands. My friend wrapped both her hands around mine as if to bless me at a formal “pass-the-rock” ritual. I looked at her with a quizzical look, found all this a little too comedic and silly. (C’mon, it was early in the morning and I didn’t have my glasses on) She, however, was serious and certain of the magical qualities of this rock that I believed her wishes did come true. So I wrapped my hand around this dull, grey, and full of blemishes object that fits perfectly in my palm. I started thinking about my wishes. Wishes…. I don’t know if I have any wishes that are genuine and that do not only satisfy my personal desires. I dug deep in my chest of bottled thoughts and came up empty. I’m not sure I want to waste this rock with “unrealistic” wishes. Am I over-thinking? I held onto the rock and warmed it with my hands. All I could think about was how special this is. Maybe I don’t want my wishes to come true so I can keep the rock forever; so I remember what it was like to be handed a rock with two perfect circles…

 

“I am here. Wandering.”

Do you ever see your “friends” (aka school friends who you haven’t talked to since you hit puberty) on facebook posting pictures of their fun-filled trips to the Caribbean, Europe, Australia, or somewhere exciting and exotic that you can only dream of travelling to because you have a butt load of student loans? Do you ever wonder where they get the cash to be so luxurious? How did they pay for a undergrad degree and still have money to travel after they graduate? How do they afford those fancy retreats or restaurants?

Do you ever look up in the deep dark blue sky and see a bright, shiny, and seemingly perfect round moon, and then wish that someone you love is also taking this incredible sight in, wherever they are? And if they are, do you wish that they are thinking about you, too? Or do you make a wish for them to wish for you?

Do you ever want to spend time with someone, but then when you do you end up spending that time in silence? Do you wonder what they think about? Do they feel what you feel? Serenity and happiness, or discomfort, awkwardness and wishes to be somewhere else? Are they telling you something with their silence? What are you saying with your silence? What if this silence is doing more damage than good? Or is this silence a bridge for more possibilities and options? Are you satisfied with silence, even when you know time is only threatening to take that someone away?

If you are there wandering, should I whisk you away and show you the way I want us to go?

 

Conflicted

Tonight I’m emo. I’d like to stay up and write, but I’ve been staying up way too late these past few weeks. There has been too many an inspiration. Not that I’m complaining, but my sleeping pattern is all screwed up…

Currently playing is the youtube mix of Skrillex tracks, and on my mind is what I should do when the day arrives… I don’t even know how to write this properly. Maybe sleep will make me feel better.

 

A Love Letter In Disguise

A while ago I asked the general twitting public if anyone would want to proofread a love letter that I was going to attempt to write. There was one eager response, and that was enough to get me going. But one summer, two months and three shows later, I still haven’t written anything. The thing is, how do you go about writing a letter professing your affection without sounding cheesy and “right” in all the wrong ways?

Pondering, thinking, re-thinking, and over-thinking, I crumpled the note I was going to leave on your pillow and threw it in my backpack. I stood by my decision and wondered if I’d really just saved myself from a potential deal-breaker and humiliating situation, or if all I had done was rob myself of a chance to charm and woo you. I dug for the ball of paper, straightened it out, and read the note once again. “Your [blank] would be [blank] if you were [blank] [blank]…” Nothing on that paper sounded right. Without hesitation, I crumpled it again, harder this time, almost with anger at my own stupidity and incompetency at writing something more fathomable or endearing. I made sure it disappeared into a dark corner of my bag so that I could take it home to remind myself of how ridiculous this small gesture seemed. It warranted no second thoughts, and I was glad I had the chance to dispose of the note moments before you came home.

In the event of an unrequited love (which is what, 90% of all crushes?), things are better left unsaid and gestures better left undone. Especially when the other person has already expressed disinterest or been unresponsive to your “keen friendship”. The last thing you’d want to do is push your crush away by coming on too strong. I learned that the hard way… So now I am a little bit paranoid. I’m not sure what, exactly, is the right amount -or if there is standard. What tips the iceberg and what makes it melt?

All I want to express in all my awkwardness, is that I think of you when I wake up to a brand new day. I think of you when I see something beautiful because you are beautiful. I think of you when I see an enjoyable and interesting piece of theatre that I know you would appreciate. I think of you when I make new discoveries that I’d like to share. I also think of you when I get jealous of the well-matched couple on TV, or the couple walking along the beach hand in hand. And when I’m staring at the beautiful dark sky where the shining moon and shimmering stars hang, I wonder if you’re looking at it and thinking and wishing of someone, too. I’m mostly thinking about you when I’m writing this, but also working hard at wording each sentence properly (or am I trying too hard?).

That may sound like a lot of “thinking about you”s, but before you thwart me off, put yourself in my shoes; recall the times when you were thinking about your crush. I’m sure you know what it’s like and how you can beat yourself up for sounding lame and being a stalking creeper. Alas, being mistakenly interpreted is one of the risks you’d have take in writing something like this. I hope you remember that before you judge this post… this is my secret profession of affection. I am not defending feelings, nor am explaining them. I am merely telling you that I have been thinking about you.