No band aid for the heart

Please divine mother, if you can hear me help me. I'm scared and tired of have to fight for myself. Why do you make my dad so cruel to me? I wish he would just punch me so I could have some physical proof of how different he is behind closed doors. I hurt. I hurt. I hurt. And there is no band aid for the heart.

Find a good place soon....

After getting the great news that I got a place I wanted the other day, I decided to be responsible and phone back all the other people who's places I had seen to tell I had found my place, but thanks anyways. I packed. I planned. I played bob marley and bounced all through packing my life away. Then this morning a text. A gruff "Jess called" from my father. Jess was going to be my new roommate.
"What does she want?"
"Check you're email, you'll find out."
"Why don't you just tell me what she said?"
"Just read the damn mail"

Slams the door.

Type in email fast. Hit enter a hundred time even as it's still loading. There's something about the way my dad is avoiding my questions that makes me fear it's bad news. There it is. A email from *********@gmail.com

Hey Christina, I have some bad news. It doesn't look like my current roomate is going to get that place he wanted, it's being renovated. So he's going to stay. I hope you find a good place soon. 
-Jess


That's it? I packed, I phoned all those people to say no, I have only a week now to find a place, and you send me a 3 sentance email to tell me?

I cannot believe this. Only yesturday I was happy to start my future. I was thanking the angels for bringing me a break. And I thought I was finally given something good. I had something good for less than 24 hours.

Why? Why? WHY?

Maybe God can call me a taxi

I want things to happen for me that are good. That are kind. That restore me. That make me feel safe again. That allow me to trust even if I am walking blind. I want assurance. I want insurance. I want to stop making choices that are bad for me becuase they are easier. I want the best even if it means working harder. I want things to work out even if "working out" means something good happened but not the way I had planned. Mostly I want to feel like I'm not at the bottom of a steep hill looking up. Maybe God can call me a taxi. But I don't have his number.

All those enough's

I don't support others enough
I don't clean the house often enough
I don't smile enough
I don't meditate enough
I don't chase guys enough
I don't study enough
I don't work enough
I don't focus enough
I don't love God enough
I don't hang out with people enough
I don't open my heart enough

These are the things people tell me everyday. And I wonder why I never feel good about myself. I wish I knew somebody, anybody who felt like I was enough without having to do all those enough's.

Desperation is no longer quiet

I have to find a place to live. A school to go to. A career to choose. A job to sustain myself. And yet all I want to do smoke some weed on my bed and listen to sad songs on repeat. Fuck I wish God had given me talent. Then these responsibilities and mundane "supposed to do" things that everyone has to do, I would say fuck off to. I'd let my music, my passion, my undeniable talent take me across the world.

 But maybe to test me, maybe to punish me the universe gave me a brain. Not a smart one either. Or at least not where it counts. I can memorize more bullshit than the offspring of a calculator and encylcopedia fuck. I can tell you George Washington's birthday, and the process of photosynthesis, and the rulers of the Supreme Court and other "enlightening" facts that high school shoved in my brain. But if you asked me how to fix a broken wire, or cook a meal, or find a address, I'm bloody clueless. I didn't  learn any life skills from school, or from my family, or just naturally on my own. So now I a perfect hybrid of this twisted society. A brain full of facts, but none of them include survival knowledge. Thousands of options open, yet I have no clue or direction to follow one. Most of the time I just think I should end my life. That why I wouldn't have to see how much I wish I could have, wish I could be.

Henry David Thoreau said most men live lives of "quiet desperation." Only my desperation is no longer quiet. It screams.

The Hell I call vacation

I have vomited, peed, cried, bawled, shivered, sweated, and generally died in these past 10 days in what I loving refer to as the hell I call vacation.

Sorry, getting ahead of myself. Remember how I said I was going to convocation? Well I did, or rather I didn't really.

I left Vancouver on the 3rd and went to Encinitas, a small coastal down in southern Cal. It was beyond beautiful. The sun hot, the ocean spectacular, and they energy sweet. Even the air breathed. Spent four days there with a family friend so it was kind of awkward but he left of the second night so I had the whole pad to myself. I thought I'd be scared or lonely but it was just the opposite. I've never had so much peace or so much fun in my life. I slept in, ate with my hands and my feet up, had ridiculously long showers, chilled all day at the beach, walked around town, and did whatever the fuck I wanted. My version of bliss. Plus I met some cool people, a surfie neighbor and his wife, a guy on the beach who lent me a bike and took me around the city. I did smoke alittle pot cuz everyone here kept offering me some so I did break my pot fast.

All in all it was fantastic. And then Covocation happened. And for some reason I already had this sixth sense something wasn't right. I met up with this old freind Sam (who I really had a crush on and he blew me off for some big boobed chick) for a ride up to LA. It was weird and stilted talking at first and I was glad two more girls were getting a ride with us to ease the tension. Driving I tried talking to the girls. But they were tight, close. I guess what I'm trying to say is that they weren't really open to me, like too clicky and all that bullshit to even want to allow me into their group. I was soooo fucking pissed because in my mind thats exactly what I had come to Convocation to get away from, that superficial sunblock people wear now. So I tried to just chill and relax. But then Sam kept yarning away about his hot girlfriend and about looks in general. I was thinking I was overreacting to my dislike to these girls when Bina (the brunette) said with total seriousness said, "Yeah me and Bina are going to be the hottest girls at Convocation."  Yupp I officially hate you.

 Like can you believe that? We're going to spiritual gathering and she has the arrogance and ego to say that? I must of had a very incredulous look on my face because her friend Tasha (the blonde) said, "Well we're just saying...."

I ran out of that car when we got there. I got to my hostel room across the city (which was a cheap shithole to make a long sotry short). Met up with friend Matt (the friend who visited from earlier blog). over the next two days I tried to immerse myself into the spiritual stuff but was having fights with Matt lot and it was making it difficult to concentrate or even feel open.

Then it happened. To go through fast motion I'll just get it all out. One night was walking, got the shivers so bad couldn't walk. Matt carried me back. Had 104 fever. Threw up. Shivers again. Fever. Threw up again. Threw up some more. Spent two days dying then decided to go hosipital. I cried and cried and cried my eyes started getting an infection. More fever. More throw up bags. It was terrifying. I thought I was going to die constantly. They finally diagnosed me with bladder and kidney infections.

I got well enough to leave the hosipital and now here I am. Nevada city Cali with with my sis to recover. I cannot believe my luck, or karma, or whatever the fuck it is that made me this violently ill DURING the spiritual week which I planned paid and prepared for a year ago. Most of the time I try not to hate God or blame the universe for my misfortune, because in truth most of the time I just want to cry. This is one of those moments.

the heaviness of too many longing

Why is it the things you want are the things you can't have? I've been in Encinitas California for the past couple days and even though I'm not leaving yet I'm already dreading and sad to go back home. This place is a paradise. The gorgeous coastline going for miles all the way up the highway 1. The small town with it's little boutiques and cafes lining the street. The beaches with the beautiful waves (and might I say beautiful surfies too). And the people. All these cool yoga-wearing-veggie-eating-beach bum-surfing badass yogis. All these devotees grew up together, go to chapel together, have eachother over for brunch. It's enough to make me yearn deeply for some kind of belonging and family they have with eachother. Bumped into an old friend on the beach today. Heard from him about all the group,weddings I didn't know about, breakups that I was shocked about, and location changes that were happening. It was hard to realise but life was happening for them, whereas I'm still in the same spot as I've always been. No future and no plans. Fuck. I don't think I'm meant to do anything sometimes with my life, and then other times I feel like I'm only here for a certain purpose and everything is extra bullshit. What is it about uncertainty that I can't handle? That makes me terrified of letting go even just a little? I know I always say this shit, but i'm lost. And sometimes I feel like everyone else has a map, and I just got planted in the middle of no where. I want so many things my heart has started to physically hurt from the heaviness of too many longings. I want to live in encinitas. I want God to speak to me in any way. I want family. I want a partner who loves me. I want to stop hurting. I want focus. I want goals and dreams that come true. I want enough finances to acomplish it all. Where's a genie in a bottle when you need one eh?