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happiness and Hope

Posted by james on April 7, 2002

<span style="color:gray"><a href="../music/playlist-dashboard_hands_down.m3u">Hands Down</a>, Dashboard Confessional. And I almost believe she did mean it.</span>

My friends are my sanity. They really are what has kept me sane, relatively emotional stable, and still alive. Recently I've started to examine my life for the past couple of years, and I've realized a few things. First is that I have been depressed. I usually think of myself as a pretty stable person. But I know that for all intents and purposes, I've spent large parts of the past couple of years depressed and alone. My friends really have been the saving grace in my life. I remember isolating myself, making sure that I didn't have to come into contact with too many people. I remember making the decision to allow myself to venture out, actually hang out with people and try to smile sometimes and not let sadness creep back into my mind and heart. I remember talking with friends who asked me what they could do; I told them simply to keep trying with me, keep trying to bring me out. And eventually it worked. Little by little, I could spend more time around people, more time happy and less time letting small gray clouds follow me wherever I walked. I look at where I am now, and it's not too bad. I spend a lot of time alone, a lot of time thinking and searching for something (I have yet to really figure that out). But I also spend a lot of time thinking about things apart from myself, and hanging out with my friends, and trying to figure out what the next step of my life entails.

I remember in desperation asking God to send me friends. I knew that at the least, I needed that. And they arrived... some under my nose that I'd just not seen before and others that simply started to arrive out of nowhere. But they really are my sanity.

Now I can look at my life, and be grateful for what I have. Not just grateful for my breaths every morning, my darkened eyes after I've slept for only 3 hours, or the hours I spend alone every night thinking about lonely things. But also I'm grateful for all the things that I've been given as gifts. I have so many things that I enjoy, and more importantly things that make me happy. My house and the community it has fostered, my friends and the things we do together, the things in my life that I'm finally starting to get better at, my hobbies, the people that I've come to care about to the point where I don't know what I'm going to do when I no longer see them every day. I've also found hope, and it keeps me going from day to day.

My friends... for better or for worse, I always seem to have this near-paternal feeling towards some friends. It's not that I think I'm more grownup; not even close. But for some reason I feel like a big brother somtimes. It's just a feeling I get. But it's strange to think about moving away and feel my heart cringe at the thought of not seeing them grow up. What a strange feeling! But I know I really will miss my friends.

So many things have come into my life, such simple things. I looked at my alarm clock the other day, and it made me smile. I have the clock my mother gave me long ago, but it wasn't all that I needed. So one day I went out and bought another one, exactly what I wanted and what I needed. And it's been part of the reason why I've been to so many classes this semester (that, and Abe's help). It it was a small sign that I've been growing up, becoming more responsible. Certain people in my life have been waiting years for any sort of sign in that direction from me. It's spring, which makes me happy. My house is always full, always alive with people of all different sorts, and there's constantly more people finding out how they can be served by us and by what we provide. The romantic side of my heart has also gotten some excercise, even if it was perhaps all in vain.

So many gifts for me that make me happy. Not that anyone else could understand this secret code that is meant for me alone to understand. These gifts are for me, but also this message is mine alone. I've heard it, and can do nothing be feel grateful.

The best thing happened this morning... I was asleep late in my bed, as a result of staying up late last night. And I was waken up in the best possible way; people ran into my room and jumped on my bed, and wanted me to get up and play. I can't remember how many nights I've lain in bed, falling asleep, wishing that I knew someone would be there to wake me up in the morning, bursting with energy to start a new day. It almost makes falling asleep worthwhile.


Posted by james on April 1, 2002

The words just wont come. There's so many thoughts and ideas floating around, but whenever I sit here they dissapear.

whispers and feelings

Posted by james on Feb. 19, 2002

<span style="color:gray;">Just another <a href="../music/playlist-coldplay-yellow.m3u">song...</a></span>

When I was young, I used to stay awake in bed every night. I simply couldn't fall asleep as fast as my sisters or my parents; there were too many things swimming in my head. I would dream about flying, about being a hero, about finding a perfect girl. And there used to be this feeling I would get in that moment when I'm day dreaming (night dreaming?) that was indescribable. I know, because I tried many times to find words to fit it. It was some kind of longing, it was sad and a little lonely, very silent and sacred. It was as if both kinds of dreams, the ones that are your hopes and the ones that you dream at night, were mixed together and found their way into the waking world to touch my mind.

I used to get this feeling when I thought about past situations that I missed. I would remember a field trip or some time I hung out with friends long ago and it would seep into me as if it were something so sweet as to be painful. Other times I would think about the future, knowing I'll have to leave my friends and knowing that much of what we had and shared would dissapear, buried under the sands of time, and again the longing would hit me.

Just now I heard a song that reminded me of a wonderful time. A time that didn't even really seem that important at first... just a road trip to some random place, to hang out with friends; no goal in mind and nothing really to do. But it became a memory so potent that to think about it and be reminded of what it was is to feel my heart start to call out for something unknown.

These feelings arise when there is some kind of loss. Whether it's a loss of something I used to have, or simply knowing that I will lose something, I feel the longing to have that moment back, or to hold onto it forever. Maybe it is my ephemeral heart trying to live in the same world as my immortal soul, and the two of them never quite being able to reconcile leaves me with a feeling that can only be whispered, and never described.

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