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Crossed things off my 2012 To-Do List!

• Played the “left-right” game for a little bit. (Driving)
• Tried a new place to eat: Night & Day Cafe in Coronado
• Watched a Drive In Movie: MIB3
• Star-gazing! (and talking about astrology & the world)
• & a repeat: Finish a disposable camera roll.

And in between all of that:

• Walked along the beach.
• Explored the Hotel Del.
• Ate amazing food.
• Made a failed fort turned clusterfuck of blankets and pillows in a truck bed.
• Listened to good music.

Good day!

— C. Ann

A few lovely things.

• Interesting to think that when I was in an extremely happy mood, I thought to call you. You.
• When you tell me you miss me, and I know that I do as well.
• The way we realize that there are only two options here. We are the grey area.
• How you know me too well.
• To know that someone cares.

You know, in retrospect,
Where was the respect?
It was a simple matter of honesty,
Blatant truth, a cacophony,
Of every word, sound, yell, and whisper that I didn’t want to ask,
but I dare hear.

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What just happened?
Today I wanted to watch a film I created.
But in an instant, the film reel retracted, leaving flashes of post roll. And I watched the screen, wondering how I could be at the end before I even began?

I searched for the source — looked for the problem. Here, I turned off the projector and started over. The reel was fine, intact, and the film wasn’t empty.

Still good, I thought.

The projection was certain, I thought as well.

So I turned on the projector again, and to my relief, I was able to watch the film as I had hoped.
It was a great film at that, rising action, conflict, and emotional roller coasters. I could feel my heart growing with it, a smile mustering as I watched. I grew attached to my creation, as most filmmakers would.

But soon, the reel ended again, and I was left with a white screen and the clicking of the empty spools.

Astonished, I check one more time.
So I took the wheel off its spokes, rewound the negatives and saw that the film was there, cuts, adjustments, and all.
To my surprise however, there was indeed something missing. What it was, I couldn’t figure out, but I knew I had forgotten something. I missed something along the way, and it pulled at my thoughts. My heart sunk a little bit because I realized I must have cut something out by accident. And with film reels, once you cut something, it’s hard to replace with fluidity. Sad.

I still questioned, but I had no one to turn to for an answer however because the only one who edited this film was myself.

Another film for the box, I thought. And so I felt uninspired to create again, after the long days, late nights, and the time I could fit in between. All this time invested, to be tossed aside for another day.
Maybe I’ll revisit that project. Maybe I won’t.

…But its painful to think it would be my own hands that deceived me.

And closure. And good conversation. And understanding.

Exactly what I was missing. I’m free.

Time to move on and forward!

Living Blindly, Pt. 2

I wonder these days what it must be like to live blindly again.

When the whispers would kiss walls and seep through the cracks,
We’d laugh.
We’d laugh, because it seemed like every person that walked by,
Would suspect something was up,
As if every time we would touch or at least almost touch,
Was a move that was explicitly just an excuse to feel that anticipation before we even get close enough to feel any sort of chemistry between us.

But you see, the right one at the wrong time is still the wrong one,
My thoughts bleed temporary, poorly inked, so my feelings run.

It’s like I’m running separate lives,
And like dying, I still felt alone,
But in retrospect, I’m living,
But I’d rather live in the warmth of your heart and always call it home.
Except I don’t know how to get there.
And if I knew where home was,
trust me, I’d take you there.

We planted seeds too closely,
So instead of growing into flowers, they’re weeds.

I’ve spent this time pulling them,
Like pulling on heart strings,
And it stings to feel the burn on my tongue,
From the words that can’t be undone,
I don’t fucking want to do this anymore, I’m done.
Let someone else have me, I’m captive, you’ve got the gun.
And I’m punished with these burns,
Because I too quickly became the indulgent one.

And I won’t deny or dwell in demise to the fact that you opened my eyes,
But honestly? Shut my eyes, I’m tired, and you know, I wonder what it would be like to live blindly again.

(Source: cleanoh)