Thursday, April 12, 2012

Not my most flattering.

Facebook is rather lonely.  And odd.  And full of questions and assumptions.
I'm currently finding health/fitness/& nutrition really annoying and frustrating.
In addition to finding desire rather annoying and frustrating.

Ok, let me tell you.  I just scrolled down for a good number of minutes so I could see his name and click on his page, but not sink low enough to actually typing in his name anymore and finding him that way.  You know what I mean?  I shouldn't have told you that.  I'll probably regret it.  I'll also probably regret eating something now because I want to not eat in order to feel smooth and clear; to feel, understand, appreciate - MAN!  Commercials, today, are GOOOOD!  Examples: Panera Bread, AT&T, and I'll finish this tangent when another good commercial intrudes on my thoughts - my other senses.  Smell, touch, sensations.  (I ate some fruit).

Oh, and I'm finding the new iPad commercial ridiculous.  First reaction.  And THE BIG BANG THEORY IS FREAKIN HILARIOUS!!!!

Earlier today when I was skipping my work-out, my mind was full of things I wanted to say.  To type.  To write.  This is so the age of short sentences and big spaces.  Isn't it?

I need to write a Personal Statement kind of thing for my application to massage school.  And then I was thinking-what if I don't want to do massage?  I don't feel like massaging anybody right now.  I feel ("felt", because I thought these things awhile ago) like standing in this shower, letting the lovely warm warm water wash over my back, smelling the yummy shampoo and appreciating having "longish" hair to rub it in.  But then I think, this - taking long showers that I don't need - is a rich thing to do.  What about that book I started reading like twenty minutes ago?  The one about the ten-year old girl who is telling her story of her divorce in Yemen?  She wrote that she didn't have plumbing.

What disparity is this?  Are some parts of this life fantasy?  Confusion?  Short and long arms depending on what you can touch to be reality?  Humor, cleverness, thoughts, perspectives-they only go so far until you're, rather I, am just a...jerk, an ant, a little girl whose big, pretty eyes and silliness that pleases the heart are not her own, but belong to whoever gave them to her.  The Creator, A Creator.  It always comes back to this, doesn't it.  Because it should. 

I have to get up early  tomorrow.  Like at least 2:30 am early.  I heard the other guy close his door and probably go to sleep.  Smart young man.  I should very soon.

But I just want to say some more things.  Am I sure I want to go to massage therapy school?  That word is so stale in my mouth: massage.  Or am I just saying that to get out of something else?  To find some "quick-fix" purpose?  Doesn't Alice from Alice in Wonderland say, "I would be a great many-things"?

I desire encouragement, reality, companionship, heartbeats, adrenaline, warmth.  And I desire to be a tool of aid for others to experience these things as well.

I'm finishing reading Ree Drummond's novel on her love story and she is clever and funny and so perhaps my ramblings have become ripe enough to blog about them due to listening to her speak in my mind.  Or it's my environment - the home of another's life where other ramblings have developed into blogs.  But while I'm at it I want to note because I can; I'm still waiting for my fit.  My divine hug and perfect fitting.  My perfect fit either into another's arms, into a set of personalized footprints where my bare skin would plunge nicely in stone, etc...

I think I'm running out of juice.  Too much, too much.  Is massage therapy REALLY what I want, is it REALLY TRUTHFUL AND BRAVE????????  Because I could see my heart fluttering beautifully living in some open naturistic place, in a Western state of America, wearing printing dresses, and wiping food off of a number of kid's cheeks.  And these kids would not be from my womb, though I'm sure, that would be exciting.  No, they would be from many other wombs and there is dark green, vibrant grass in the background and kites and I think I'm sounding like my naturally poetic and beautiful sister, Ayla.  I'll leave the rest of the ramblings of close, but not tangible realities for her, for this night.  I, on the other hand, should sleep for some hours...

Thanks for the opportunity,
Kyla Rae