songs of solitude;: February 2006

Tuesday, February 28, 2006

poo

poo on being sad and depressed and mopey.

today is a new day!

so i am at the bottom of the barrel. but i've been here before. Look! Here's the orange rinds i left from the last time.

i need to stand up. again. and start climbing out. there are things to be done, and it is up to me to do them. no more time for being sad. that time has passed.

~np

Monday, February 27, 2006

thank you

Thank you for saying what I needed to hear--
the truth, sparing nothing for my expense.
I'm trying to stand, although I am weak
and tired, as my battered self clings to this fence;

a fence that i built for myself long ago
to keep everything in, and let little out.
No one can see what I feel on my face;
I will quietly speak though I secretly shout:

YOU FOOLISH GIRL! Are you that naive?
Did honestly, truly, sincerely believe
that you might find anything different than before?
(as you walk around moping, your heart on the floor)
Wake up! This is no fairy tale setting!
You're too different-- so how do you keep forgetting?
You know you were never meant to find
that, after which you hopelessly pine.

SLAP!

Put your armour back on and harden your heart
It is such notions that make you weak.
Be guarded; never vulnerable.
Be sensible; never sensitive.
Be strong; never weak.

Go on! Have a happy heart!
You do not need to feel pain if you deny the existence
of love.

~np

failure.

heavy heart today.

one blow after another leaving me face down in the dirt. skinned knees and abraisioned palms. i'm not sure i know where to go from here. wipe off the dirt? dry the tears?

my birthday is in two days. i don't care. i feel like a deflating balloon. what happened to me?

failure. i'm drowning in my own failure. i don't want to be an A student. i just want to get by. but i can't even seem to do that for myself. i know this is a test, but truthfully i grow weary of the testing. i just want to be for a while. just living.

i sound depressed. perhaps i am. i hate that school does this to me. i hate that you helped do this to me. i hate that i am doing this to me.

i need to get out of here. i can't breath.

~np

Friday, February 24, 2006

the spawn of a pause

It's interesting how things are said--
how words can crush you;
how you can be obliterated
by ill-perceived sentiments,
aimed indirectly
at your bleeding heart.

I'm not sure about recovery
(I don't forsee it anytime soon)
but that isn't surprising,
as my life is virtually a pussing wound
of rejection
and disappointment.

Cue the violin music to the tragic story
of the woeful little handicapped girl
who speaks soft truths and melancholly
with words that drip with disdain
and resentment--
but never anger.

Because pain is all i know;
it is the constant variable in my experiment
of a life.
Tease me no more with these faint notions of love--
I'll have none of it.
Be gone.

~np

la semana pasado

reading week has come and gone and i am left wondering where the time went. try as i might, not nearly enough school work was accomplished. productivity has yet to become a part of my daily routine. i think i spend too much time thinking.

sometimes there's just too much to think about, really. i got accepted into my university's year abroad program in Ecuador. from september to april i will be living somewhere near Quito, hoping that it will provide me with some much needed enlightenment. sure, i am there to study and volunteer. but mainly i hope to learn - if only more about myself.

In all this future planning the summer seems only seconds away. i have joined WWOOF - World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms. the membership lasts for a year and allows me to visit any number of farms across Canada (i only signed up for the Canadian membership) and learn about sustainable living. I would love to venture north to the great territories of this country, but in order to save up for my south american travels, i may only venture out east, to Nova Scotia and Cape Breton. the guide book they mailed me has over 30 pages of hosts listed, each with a bio so enticing that it seems impossible to decide. but Nova Scotia seems to have many sustainable housing projects on the go - in addition to organic farming - which fascinates me.

the majority of my reading break has been devoted to thinking about these things, but mainly in sourcing out the possibility of Esmeralda being seen by Sick Kids hospital in Toronto. after repeatedly emailing since my return from Peru, to no avail, I went downtown first thing Monday to see if i could find anyone who could give me answers. the 7th floor of the Elm wing provided just that. the secretary of the international patients department informed me that such a program does exist (known as the Herbie Fund) for children without medical insurance. she has since sent me the application form (which hopefuly won't take Angela's family too long to complete). she estimated that upon submitting the application it will take the committee 2-3 months to review it, and then after being accepted, it will take 2-3 for the surgery to happen.

when i think of the whole Esmeralda situation i can't help but get anxious. i feel like i'm trying to run through water - it doesn't seem to matter how badly i want to move faster, i just can't. it breaks my heart to know that little Esmy is trying desperately to starting crawling and walking. each attempt is met only with frustation as her limitations keep her even more imobile than my futile attempts at helping her.

time...is just racing after us all.

~np

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

just when

just when you find yourself stressing over how many assignments you have due; how many midterms to study for; papers to write; appointments to make; meetings to participate in; classes to fall asleep in; seminars to stay mute in, it can dawn on you that in spite of it all, you are so lucky to be busy and at school.

after coming out of my microeconomics midterm - which i feel fairly certain that i gave my best on - i began chatting with a mature student in my class as we waited for the bus. turns out he's a math major and he picked the same 3 (of 4) questions to answer on our test. we talked about perhaps forming a study group for the final, being that its worth a whopping 40% of our mark. i was curious to know what other courses he was taking but surprised to find out that micro was his only course - he's study part time. he eagerly went on to explain to me that this was due to a kidney condition that he has which he needs to receive a treatment for (blood transfusion? dialysis?) almost everyday - making a regular courseload impossible.

wow. i remarked that being fulltime is overrated anyway, and i longed to be able to spend more time on each course to better absorb the material, to which he nodded in agreement. but in my head i was thinking - this dude is incredible! driven by his thirst for knowledge to study one course at a time to finish his degree.

i can empathize to what it is like to be in daily pain, but i still felt a deep sympathy for this man. less sympathy maybe and more... an understanding. an understanding of where he was coming from. such a sweet man. i'm glad somebody in our class enjoys micro.

~np

Saturday, February 11, 2006

of conspiracy and poverty

there was a secret mission tonight.

defacing billboards in the name of poverty. me and my fellow...nameless activists are sick of the pretentious propaganda that is being plastered - particularly on 8ft Trent University promotional billboards; "The world belongs to those who understand it."

What does that even mean?!

It's infuriating. If only we could all be so lucky as to attend Trent. But at almost a wopping 5 K a year for tution alone, education is sadly not something that many can afford. Does that mean that world does not belong to these people? Just because post-secondary education is not economically plausable?

I go to university. I'm learned. And what I've learned is that in this very intricate capitalist system, there are those that work hard - so hard - for very little, all their lives. And then there are those who work off the backs of these people. The elite could not exist without the proletariat. We could not enjoy our comfortable, middle class lifestyles in suburban North America, studying at our quaint little universities, without the cheap imports we receive from China and the like.

We don't even recognize poverty in our own communities, let alone entire nations in our "global community". The world certainly must belong to those who can understand it, because learned as I am, and try as I might, I fail to.

Screw the university. Screw profitable gain off education. What does a degree really say about me anyway? That I am institutionally deemed competitant? Or is this just a widespread conspiracy - a system whereby employers only hire university grads because they are paid off by the schools themselves, who we in turn pay in order to enter the work force? I don't doubt it.

It's a big joke, if you ask me. I really hope this anticipated doomsday of the oil peak comes soon. I want to watch all the diplomats scramble as their source of power is ripped out from under them. Then who will be laughing? The farmers. The poor. The proletariat. The people.

But until that day comes, those billboards still stand. A propositioned, smiling Trent University student, bearing the arrogence of the administration. A minority student, of course - to show that Trent is a diverse atmosphere. It is where everyone should want to be.
If only they could get there;

The world belongs to those...who can afford it

~np

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

alive

after realizing that my last two entries might be perceived as somewhat pessimistic (although they were very soothing to get off my chest) i am determined to do the exact opposite with this entry.

i may not have a lot, but i have all that i need. i forget to quickly how much i am blessed with - and not simply possessions, family, and friends, but circumstances too. monumental events in my life that have led to the development of my character into what it is right now.

i am thankful for today. one more day that i am alive.
i am thankful for my health. it ain't perfect, but it could always be worse.
i am thankful for my parents. they may have needed to abandon their marriage but they have never abandoned me. without their love, i would not be the same.
i am thankful for my brothers. they may fart in my face, but they're always there when i need them. and no one makes me laugh more.
i am thankful for my friends. they remind me of all the things worth living for, like dancing, making insane noises, laughing, and just enjoying good company.
i am thankful for my God, who has blessed me with all of the above and more.

i love dancing wherever i want to. in my bedroom with the stereo blasting, or on my way to the bus stop. dancing as if no one was watching. and singing; in my un-shy voice...hindered only by my lack of breath as i run down the street. leaping in bounds as i sing just because i feel alive.

today is another day that i'm alive.

~np

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

self worth

i have been hard on myself for too long.

much of the complex that has ruled me has been a maniacal self-creation. the world beats me down - feeding me lies that perpetuate my disdain: i am not worthy; none could ever love the real me; i need surgery; i need to cover up; i need to falsify the reality to become desirable.

i know in my heart that its all just consumerist garbage. but still i have taken to swallowing the idea like a drug, in hopes that it would one day bring me the equitable peace that i so long for.

but still i am waiting.

my friends have told me that i am beautiful - of and mind and of spirit - and that to someone that will be enough. more than enough; their ideal. but i have been shrugging them off. they are just being nice to me, right? feeding me some sort of propoganda of their own. i'm not a fool; i have eyes - i can see my own reflection. and try as i might...i don't see what they do. i see an ogre. dying to be normal. craving to be physically desirable.

i have not been in any successful relationships to date. and my appearance has been an easy scapegoat. who would want to date me? i am beastly! i don't know why i leave the house!

----------sometimes my hyde gets the better of both of me; the one trying desperately to maintain a level of youthful optimism, and the one that lurks beneath the smile and the stride. but i have on too many occasions succumbed to my hyde. it drains the spirit from my veins. everywhere i look, society validates it. media enforces it. people maintain it. but no more.-------

what if my friends are right? what if I AM worth it? why then am i letting even MYSELF get in the way of my own happiness? aren't i smarter than this?

there is a chance that i may spend my entire life single. there is always that possibility. we aren't the ones that decide the course of our love-lives. but that possibility won't change just because i am hard on myself...critical of my every flaw...pining after normacy. in fact...it steals what i do have...my energy..my vivacious nature...my "i can laugh at anything" sense of humour...my intelligence...my free spirit...my passionate self.

i'm worth it. why do i keep selling myself short? WHY CAN'T I JUST ACCEPT THINGS AS THEY ARE AND GET ON WITH THINGS?

i may never fall in love. i may spend my life single...never knowing intimacy...relationships... sex...passion...but that doesn't mean i will be alone. and that is all i need to know to be happy with who i am.

~np

Friday, February 03, 2006

but sometimes...i feel beautiful

people often comment on my self esteem. some are suprised at how a person with so many (visible) obstacles can be so upbeat and self-assured. admittedly, i am more optimistic at times than most. but my self esteem is not perfect. i am comfortable, at this point in my life, with who i am, who i am becoming, and what things are most important to me.

but in terms of physical self esteem...and confidence in my own appearance...well lets just say i have never been all too comfortable.

i know what i look like. i know that few people (if any) would be able to see past that...in a romantic sense. its a harsh reality, but nonetheless existent. i never really feel beautiful. only on those rare occasions - when you get all gussied up for no reason, or when somebody says or does something that seems so genuine you are left with no choice but to believe it to be truth - do i actually feel...beautiful.

perhaps i am not meant to find love. perhaps there are certain things that others are unable to see past. it does not diminish my self worth, though it can at times make one's heart rather heavy.

but tonight i feel beautiful; for whatever reason. i tied back my hair, i wore my favourite red beads, i put on a skirt and a smile. my roomate told me that i had never looked prettier. and i believed her - not necessarily becuase it was true - but because i feel it. i feel at peace enough with my inner demons to bravely say that i am beautiful tonight.

i'm sure that tonight i will sleep this all away. but i suppose it is important to enjoy the feeling while it lasts; who knows whether it will return again...

~np

Thursday, February 02, 2006

a marvelous night for a moodance...

this song has been haunting me since last thursday. haunting is perhaps too negatively connated a word; following me unexpectedly. its interesting how certain songs can effortlessy encompass our feelings at times. they must be singing this to you.

but Moondance, as fantabulous a song it may be (kudos to good old Vanny Mo), fails its words in me. i am feeling more like Moonlight Sonata than Moondance. i can feel the weight of Beathoven's heart as he lays down each chord; stripping layers and heaving sighs. perhaps there is significance. or even a link between the two. Beethoven's soul must have been as troubled as mine. i wonder if he too wished to "please to the calling, of heartstrings played soft and low".

a song that definitely sings me lyrically is Selah, particularly the first stanza:

Nothing can be done against the truth
No matter how we remain in denial
Wasting time
Replacing time
With each empty excuse
But that'll only work a little while
Coping with despair
Knowing you're not there
Ashamed to just admit
I've been a fool
So I blame it on the Son
Run away from everyone
Hoping to escape this ridicule
Trapped in misery
Wrapped so miserably
And this deception I wear it like a skin

sometimes the skin i wear is so inherently chameleon that i forget i have it on. but no matter how much i remain in denial, there it remains. and i am ashamed to admit to my own wretched foolishness. so i run away...which only ever works for a short while. before i run out of breath.

i'm not even sure where i am going with this. perhaps every writer needs a few entirely unmethodical entries to round them out. or perhaps i'm not really a writer. perhaps i really don't know much at all.

i want to start writing poetry again. not that i was ever much of a poet. but it is a good release; of words; of all the perhaps that plagues me.

~np

songs of solitude;