doubt.
verb.
doubted, doubting, doubts.
1. to be undecided or skeptical about.
2. to tend to disbelieve; distrust.
3. to regard as unlikely.
4. to suspect; fear.


a more perfect word could not be chosen when describing my life as of late. i am filled up to the brim with doubt, with uneasiness and skepticism. doubt plagues all of us. some of us for a season, a particular event or situation that has occurred to us. and for others of us, it is the condition under which we become its slave. i fall somewhere in between the two extremes. i am neither master nor slave, neither chained up nor free. i am in limbo, one might say.

as a writer, i doubt if the work i produce is worthy of being published. i write and rewrite every single sentence, every single word ten times then i scratch it out, rip up the paper and inevitably start the process again. as a woman, i doubt if i am up to the strength i should be. i constantly criticize my outfit, my body and my outlook. i challenge myself to be more than i am, better than i am, pursuing perfection at any cost. as a daughter, i doubt that i am living up to the standards my parents set forth and i am constantly wondering if i'm the daughter they hoped for, or if i am just the one they settle for. as an atheist, i doubt the presence of a higher power, but sometimes i feel something stronger pulling at my insides and so i doubt myself. i doubt the validity of christianity, the authenticity and humanity of catholicism and the ability to achieve buddha's idea of nirvana. as a survivor of an eating disorder, i doubt my strength to fight the war that is constantly raging inside my mind. as a person involved in relationships, romantic or otherwise, i doubt the ability to give of myself fully or my ability to receive someone else fully. i doubt the presence of love. i doubt in my ability to trust and be trusted in. and as little old me, free of any labels, i doubt everything and anything. i doubt myself. i doubt the world. i doubt everyone in the world.

sure, it's natural and normal for everyone to doubt the things around them, but where is the line between doubt being a fleeting thought and being the condition? have i moved into a place of being completely and utterly stagnant as a result of my constant doubt?

now i can only speak for myself, and although right now i find myself in a season filled with nothing but doubt, the one thing i know for certain: life sucks. it's hard and it's a constant battle, but i am willing to continue on. as robert frost once said, "there are three words that sum up everything i have learned about life: it goes on." and amidst all of the uncertainty, i continue to put myself out there, unsure as i may be. i am willing to submit my writing to publishers though i may only face rejection letters. i ask out a cute boy even though he may not even want me. i put on makeup and get ready in the morning even though i may just be covered in steamed milk by the end of the day. i fight the waves even though the possibility of being thrown back toward the shore is an ever-constant fear and reality.

because in the end, that's what life is about: fighting the good fight, sticking around and holding your head high, believing in yourself even when the chips are stacked against you.

and as always, love, t.

"i can feel this lightness inside of me
growing fast into a bolt of lightning
i know one spark will shock the world
so i pray for a favor like esther
i need your strength to handle the pressure
i know there will be sacrifice,
but that's the price.

it's never easy to be chosen, never easy to be called
standing on the frontline when the bombs start to call
i can see the heavens but i still hear the flames calling out my name
i can see the writing on the wall, i can't ignore this war
at the end of it all, who am i living for?"
who am i living for by katy perry.


*note: i have thus realized that this blogspot was started in hopes of spreading my love and adoration of music and i keep forgetting to post the song that correlates to each post. (absentminded!) so from here on out, expect the musical selection as well as the post. hope you enjoy and keep on reading! ;)

empowerment
verb; empowered, empowering, empowers
1. to equip or supply with an ability; enable.


I'm sitting in the airport, waiting for my flight off to Oakland, California. And then from there, to connect to Chicago, Illinois. Home, for the holidays. Preparing myself for a long wait through security, I came here a whole two hours too early. Thankfully, after being yelled at by a security guard for having my laptop in my carry-on (psh!) I have had the last hour and a half to people watch, to chat with friends and keep myself otherwise entertained.

People watching is one of my favorite activities. It's entertaining to me, the things people do when they feel they are not being watched. They let their guards down. Sing out songs. Pick their noses. The things that everyone does that everyone tries to hide. This got me thinking about the three people I think reside in all of us. There's the (1) person we want people to see, the (2) person we think we want to be and then (3) the person we truly are. There are so many versions of ourselves, I find it difficult to keep it all under control. We are so afraid to show the real us. Just think. There are so many businesses devoted solely to how we carry ourselves. To hide the things we do not want seen. To bring into the limelight our strenghts, hide our weaknesses. Diet pills to make us super model thin, facial creams to smooth out the wrinkles, hair dye to hide the grays, you name it, we've invented it. It's like we want to stop time, freeze ourselves in a perfect moment.

But the truth is: no one is perfect. People have flaws, get wrinkles, incur cellulite and make mistakes. Time does not stop no matter how much money you have or don't have. I chose the word empowerment for this particular blog, because after a long period of contemplation and self-exploration, I myself have felt just so. I am beginning to find my own voice, accept my flaws and embrace the real me - instead of the me I feel I have to be. Sure I'll still use diet foods to help keep a lean figure, but this time around, it isn't because I feel the need to be stick-thin - it's because I want to keep a healthy figure; a strong figure. A body that will still feel good when I'm sixty plus. And sure, I still might use a face cream, but it won't be to prevent wrinkles, it will be to protect my skin. It's all a bit narcissistic, isn't it? We're so afraid to get old. Afraid to become a weaker version of ourselves. But the truth is, age is a gift. Getting old is earned. You get wrinkles because you sat in on countless sunny days on the beach. Your knees start aching because you danced at your favorite night club with your best friends every Friday and Saturday night. These are the things to remember when you're staring in the mirror. Embracing them, instead of trying to hide them. Do yourself a favor and empower yourself instead of trying to belittle yourself.

believe me,
it feels pretty fantastic once you do.
; )

and as always, love, t.

peace. 

[pees] noun.

1. cessation of or freedom from any strife or dissension.

2. freedom of the mind from annoyance, distraction, anxiety, an obsession, etc.

3. a state of tranquility; serenity.

4. silence, stillness.

verb. 

1. to be or become silent.

i chose the word peace for this particular post because lately, my life has felt everything but. let's just say, my life has been a mess of even more questions and seemingly less answers. the more i try to get a hold on things, the more it seems to spin away from me.  these past few months spent in portland have taught me so much, but i am still completely aware of my immaturity, of the things i still have yet to learn. i am still young yet; there is this whole world to explore, a whole me to explore. and yet..

a part of me wonders how different life would be if things went according to the plan i had just a few years back. a finished degree in a career i wouldn't particularly love, a wedding to the man i thought was the love of my life, and possibly be planning for a baby - it all seems so far off; that life i could have had. thankfully (at this age at least) i have grown out of wanting those things, realizing that there are still things i want to do beforehand, but a part of me can still wonder -- and i can't help but notice all of the females around me wondering the exact same thing.

it seems no matter how intelligent the woman is, no matter how bright her future is or how full her life seems - it never seems to be enough unless there is a male present. we've been shown all of our lives that there is a prince charming, that he'll sweep you off your feet, that you'll live happily ever after. never do we hear the stories of women making it completely on their own, of never needing a man. so naturally, we're wired to think the same of ourselves.

so i guess (and believe when i say i'd never thought i'd say this) but i am at peace with the things that have happened to me. i couldn't see it at the time, but the loss of that dream has opened me up to so many more dreams that i didn't even know existed. maybe it's only in the letting go and healing that you can see that sometimes you give up something good to gain something better. i know that's sort of cliche to say, but i believe cliches to pan out to be true almost all of the time. perhaps they're cliche because they're the truths that no one wants to face; the truths we all want to avoid because at the time, it doesn't seem to make much sense. but again, believe me when i tell you, that when you can take a step back and see the whole picture, the small areas you thought were mistakes are what make the final result all the more beautiful.

"each one has to find his peace from within. and for peace to be real, it must be unaffected by outside circumstances." _ mahatma ghandi.

as always, i love you all.
love, t.

truth.

truth.
[trooth] noun.

conformity with fact or reality; verity
a verified or indisputable fact, proposition, principle, or the like
honesty; integrity; truthfulness  

there's this funny thing about silence and time spent alone:
you get to know yourself.
the good, the bad, the ugly and the secret.
and so, being that i am in somewhat of an existential crisis,
the silence and hermit-dom and i are becoming fast friends.

i have had time to uncover who this person is inside my head
and am reaching into the deep crevices of things i long to hide.
(subnote: it's amazing the things you discover about yourself when you're alone.)
and naturally, there are certain inalienable truths i have uncovered.
one of them being that i am very aware of how being german has shaped me.

since my dad is an immigrant (moved here from stuttgart when he was 14)
and my mom's entire family is of germanic descent,
our german heritage has always been apparent.
everyone speaks german, shops at german groceries, 
yells in german, sings in german and as to be assumed, loves beer.
but along with the german laughs, comes the german temper,
the german way of stuffing emotions and the general german passivity.


as a learned behavior from my two biggest role models (mom and dad),
i have aquired the fine art of holding in and swallowing my feelings.
there are things i will never feel comfortable speaking of,
and even darker things i will never be able to confront. 


so in an effort to further evolve and not hold myself back,
i've decided to state some of these truths here.
don't try to figure out if you're a part of this list or not,
just embrace it and realize that by stating it here, 
i am letting it go.


001. dear you, you have played a significant role in shaping me, for the better and for the worst. sometimes i cannot imagine my world without you, sometimes i'm glad you're not a part of it. it's odd to me how our story came and went. we're both such passionate people that i understand where and why it fell apart. i appreciate your ability to walk away; we both knew i never would. i hope you're doing well in your new life. always, t.

002. we spent a lifetime together, shaped our own world, created our own fantasies. we fought through so many battles, i thought our friendship could withstand anything, but looking back on it all, maybe we were not as close as we thought. i'm glad that at those particular times when i needed you most and you needed me most that we had each other - but i also know: we're both better on our own. you left a hole in my heart that i don't think i'll ever be able to fill up again, but it's better off empty anyways. i want to forgive you and i want to forget you. gtgsmbo, tr.


003. the time we spent together was one of the best nights i've had in a long time and i needed that, but in the daylight, i'm realizing i don't have a road map for things like this. it's new and it's scary and exciting. i feel like i could really fall for you, but i'm scared to death that you'll just go and break my heart. so be careful here.


004. you are my best friend. i use that phrase loosely, i know, but right now, there is one thing i know and that is that you are my BEST friend. you are the constant, the person i can always trust in, the person i know will always be on my side, even if i end up looking like a fool. you can call me out, tell me to get my shit together and still go grab coffee and vegan yums. i know you're not very sentimental, but let me just this once say, hammy loves hammy and hopes you move to hammy hillsboro.


005. when i moved to oregon, i felt entirely and completely lost. i didn't know where to get groceries. i didn't know delicious restaurants to eat at. i didn't even know where to get good froyo. and then i met you and you knew all of these things. you gave me answers when i only had questions. you made this state feel less lonely and soon, it will feel like home. i guess i have you to thank for that. : )


006. at one point, we were as thick as thieves. we shared secrets, fought like sisters and bonded through our love of all things reality tv and flavored slushies. we were 400 miles away and you could still call me out on things i was struggling with. i feel like this point in our life should be the most fun, but right now, i feel like we couldn't be farther apart. maybe it's the stress of our schedules or the fact that we missed a step somewhere, but i hope we can steer ourselves back to where we used to be. i miss my friend. 


007. i hate when you speak down to me like i'm twelve. i am a competent, particularly well read, educated woman. i work hard to get things accomplished (and it has NOTHING to do with sleeping my way to the top). kthanks.


008. i know i never became the girl you hoped for. i know i don't things the normal way. i know that it's frustrating to see me set myself up to fail. but that's what your role in my life is all about: allowing me the space to be the person i am, not the person you hope i turn into. that's what love is all about and if you're going to say you love me, you have to love ALL the things about me, not just the things you like.


so there it is. 
out on the table, for everyone to see.
it doesn't seem like it, but this post has been one of the toughest.
confrontation has never been my forte, but i'm getting better at it.
it's all part of the growing process.

 

so here's the thing you need to know about me.
my high school boyfriend committed suicide.
my college boyfriend broke my heart.
and everyone since then has been well, not so nice.
and somewhere along the line, i changed.

i'm no picnic to be with.
i have this tendency to bottle my emotions,
and it's not so cute when it all boils over.
i build up walls and don't trust so easily.
i pretend like i have this big ego,
but most of the time, i'm pretty self-concious.
i hate needing or wanting anything, anyone.
i think i might have depression
and i definitely still battle with an eating disorder.
i'm flighty and have a hard time making up my mind.
i'm a pain in the ass and i don't really know where i fit in.

so in a nutshell, that's me.
i'm still trying to convince myself that there are good people out there.


so don't freak out if i push you away
or aren't ready for anything you offer to me.


i'm just not used to it.

waving or drowning?

it's almost 3am and i have been inside all day.
save for running to the garbage disposal and some laundry.
sometimes, it's nice to spend all day alone, inside, with nothing to do.
and now, i'm sitting on my bed, in the dark,
listening to the rain pound down upon my window.

i've always held such fascination for water.
swimming, lakes, oceans, ponds, rain, thunderstorms.
i'm a february baby, born at the end of the month.
and i'll admit, from time to time, i check my horoscope,
not because i actually believe in astrology,
but for some reason, i identify with being a water sign.
it's all around me; a rudimentary piece of my existence.

i think that's part of the appeal with portland.
it's a city constantly surrounded by the looming idea of water.
tons of rainfall, the willamette river, the nearby coast.
and as i'm in my growing phase out here,
i can't help but wonder if the rain has been
the catalyst or the healer.

many of my memories have been defined by the presence of water.
it has been a source of peace and the greatest sense of turmoil.
it's a cleansing and a beating down all in one element.
but i can't help but wonder, by holding onto these things,
am i waving or am i in fact, drowning?

so, here's the thing.
people keep trying to "figure" me out,
trying to shove me into neat little ordered boxes
because let's face it,
if you're a little bit weird,
if you're a little bit out of the norm,
you have to be studied.
you have to be analyzed.
you have to be "figured out"

truth is, i'm happy.
for what feels like the first time in my life.
i'm happy on my own.
i'm happy working at starbucks.
i'm happy not answering to anyone.

i don't need a man.
i don't need a high-paying job.
i don't need a god.
i don't need anything but myself.

so just back the fuck off, kthanks.

out of place.

i have always felt like an outsider. the world seems to be just a few more steps in front of me and i am the one surreptitiously attached to some sort of "struggle bus" designed to catapult me into the realization that i might never be "in the right place". this is probably why i am somewhat of a nomad as of late; i find solace in the emptiness and continuity of the silence.

my own awkwardness was pointed out by a fellow coworker today. "you listen to cello concertos, you use big words and think too much about things that don't really matter." all of these things are true. my father imbedded in me a love of all things instrumental, especially when it comes to stringed instruments. (see also, yo-yo ma) as is he responsible for cultivating an expanse vernacular, a passion for language and the pursuit of knowledge. so really? blame my dad for me being such an odd kid. but i have become suspect that i might have found these oddities all on my own.

i am becoming further aware of my love of all things hauntingly beautiful; this is why i am drawn to the parisian lifestyle and classical music. most of it is positively depressing in the most emotionally-wrought way. take a look at my bookshelf and you'll see some of the most depressing reads. the stories of heartbreak have always beckoned to me. books allow me to delve into levels of my subconcious that otherwise i would have not been able to tap into. i am a lover of languages; the simple beauty of communication is not lost on me.

but like i said, i often find myself feeling somewhat alone. ironic, isn't it? a love of languages and communications so developed that it forces one into isolation, a state where at which communication is essentially meaningless. alright, maybe not ironic, but humorous nonetheless. although i am beginning to learn that maybe communication with the self is of the utmost importance.

further still, i think maybe i embrace the loneliness; a part of me feels more alive and in the "right place" in the feelings of desperation, in the pining and in the darkness. i find this to be one of the most honest and truthful facts about myself, probably because destruction came into me at such an early age and i have yet to give it up. i am bound to the feeling of sadness in an irrevocable way. there is a hole in my heart, a gap which remains to be filled up - and in a completely naked moment, i find myself never wanting that hole to be filled. sometimes a man is stranded on an island.

and rarer still, sometimes the man remains on the island of his own free will.

unspeakable.

when i have reconnected with several of my friends from illinois over the past few days, most of them are confused as to why i've relocated to portland, oregon. you see, most chicagoans have a hard time understanding that there is an entire world outside of our lovely, windy city. however, my decision had nothing to do with a falling out with chicago as some were lead to believe; i still am absolutely in love with the city and will at some point, most likely return to it. chicago will always be my home.

but for me, the decision to move to portland was more than just the natural progression to finish college. i was in part, running away from things i couldn't escape from in chicago. there were lessons i needed to learn that i didn't feel i could do while still immersed in my comfort zone. portland was an abberation, a letting go of an old skin and way of life; to state further, it is an eye-opening, or rather, soul-opening experience.

there are certain events that have happened to me, changed me, shaped me and molded me in irrevocable ways. some of them good, some of them bad and some of them downright painful and horrendous. some of them i have shared, but most of them i have not. there are still things i am trying to heal from, still things i am carrying and even, in some instances, find myself being completely burdened down by. these things are unspeakable and portland is going to be that step to take toward letting them out.

slowly but surely, i am getting there: i am finding my own voice and embracing the chances to grow. it's a long and lengthy process, but if nothing else, i believe myself to be a fighter. so one day hopefully not too far off, i'll find the courage to toss these things aside because i will no longer see the benefit of holding onto them. portland is just that place for me; a place to dream up possibilities and then achieve them. a place to rid myself of the fear and grow into a new skin of courage and gusto.

so the next time you ask when i'm here, i'll continue to say:
i'm here to begin again.

"lions make you brave,
giants give you faith,
death is a charade.
you don't have to feel safe to feel unafraid."
lions! by lights.

what you think you know about me.

you say i'm too tough for my own good. 
you say i push people away,
that i'll scare off anyone trying to get close.
you say i'm too harsh.
you say that i ignore you,
that i come off like i don't care.


if only you took the time,
if only you looked with more than just your eyes.
you'd see much more than the surface.
you might even see who i really am.


if only you took the time,
if only you made more of an effort.
you'd see the things i'm trying to show you.
you might even understand why.


---


i wrote this on one of my ten minute breaks.
inspired by a coworker who's first impression of me
was, what i would call, distorted.


it surprises me, sort of.
the things people think they see of me
versus the things i know to be true.
i'm a mess of contradictions, this i know.

i crave companionship, 
but i run the hell away from intimate settings.
i long for honesty and trust, 
but most times feel like those things don't exist anymore.
i love being free and not having a plan,
but i'm still a total control freak.
i come off like a huge egomaniac,
but most times, i'm just trying to keep the insecurities at bay.


i'm confusing, i get that.
but sometimes, it frustrates me that some people assume the worst.
they look before they leap and sometimes they don't even leap at all.

so here's the thing.
i believed in love and its power.
i was optimistic about everything and left smiles in my midst.
then i met you and everything changed.
love wasn't just something i wrote about,
it was something i lived.

then you left and i was the mess you left in your wake.
i hit rock bottom and cried for days in and out.
i spend weeks wearing my bed, eating chocolate.

and after some time and great friends,
i learned to let myself out.
i recreated my world.
i learned how to laugh.
i painted myself anew.
and remember one very important fact:

 ..maybe not in the same purist way i used to,
but, i still believe in love.
i still believe that a happy ending is ahead.
and maybe, right now, i believe in loving myself.
i believe that i am the strongest, fiercest, truest friendship i have.

i'm not there yet, but i know that one day,
someone will come along and sweep me off my feet.
and i'll fall madly, inconveniently and passionately in love.

i believe that relationships end, seasons change and books end.
but, i also believe in love and hope and faith and the ability to grow.
so i guess the real point is,
even though i never thought this day would come, it has.
i loved you, i don't anymore.
i needed you, i don't anymore.

i'm just fine on my own.

new tattoo idea? quite probable.

you're the one that left me. you packed your bags and left behind the junk you no longer needed, which on that night, included me. you built a new jerusalem in a day, without a second thought or even the slightest hesitation. you didn't even care. i understand why, but i don't understand why. i just held my breath and explained that you did what you needed to do. no regrets. i know everything you did, because you did it to me. you burned the hell out of those bridges. it was like you were trying to remind me that you were never coming back, that you didn't need me or even want me. salt in the wound would have been less painful. so i tried to put you in the past. i got rid of your stuff, your ugly old gym shorts, the bottles of shampoo and conditioner you left behind, the pictures of us smiling. all of it in five black garbage bags. i make no apologies for how i went about rewriting my story. remember, you left me. i thought that meant you didn't care either. i did what i wanted and i didn't ask for advice on how to re-re-begin. i changed my hair and the rest of the tiny details. i recreated a whole new life in which you play no part, so i find it funny that just when i've decided i maybe could go on, that maybe i could move on and put it all in the past -- that you pick tonight to show up and ruin all my hardwork.

to start: it's been a hell of a couple years. several intimate relationships have ended. i have been officially termed as "anorexia nervosa, recovered. bulimia nervosa, recovered. depression, manageable." friendships i thought would last forever have seamlessly slipped through my fingertips. family members have been buried and now i am living in a completely different state, completely out of my comfort zone. this is the stage of the story no one ever records on. there's generally a beginning and sometimes an ending but no one ever reports on what happens in the pesky middle part.
for me, it's been a series of learning, accepting, crying, screaming, laughing and laying in my bed, feeling bogged down by complete and utter confusion. sometimes i forget what day it is or how to spell my name. sometimes i lose track of what i want or who i am. sometimes i just want to stay in bed and forget the world. but most of the time, i just take a deep breath and remember that life is pretty great, once you get passed all of the bs out there. and if you ever forget, there are really great friends out there to remind you.

;)

"it doesn't matter what i do or what i choose. i'm what's wrong. there's nothing i can do about it. if i'm not hurting myself, i'm hurting everyone around me. there's nothing i can do about it. i am, i am broken."

the above was a monologue from dexter by the character of deborah morgan. throughout my entanglement with this particular series, i have always loved her character, probably because i see pieces of myself in her. she's a hard-ass, independent, stubborn, strong woman; someone who generally puts her career first but knows when she's over-stepped her bounds, she knows herself and in this particular scene, she's been broken down after a chain of events that have serially spun out of her tightly wound control.

and today, today was one of my breaking points. the pot has been steaming for awhile now and it finally boiled over. i have been swimming in all of my uncertainties, in all of the things i should be, in all of the things i'm not. there are so many unanswered questions, so many faults i've left in my wake. and after all of these failed relationships, friendships or otherwise, they all end with broken ties. and this scene, i realized the same that deb realized. i am the common denominator. for so long i wondered why all of these relationships went sour and now i see, it's not what other people do that is wrong.

the problem is me.
and i don't know what to do to fix it.
or where to go from here.

the past is the past.

so while katie was here visiting me, she ended up talking me into getting a new tattoo (not that it was that difficult to do so, hah.) i have been yearning for a forearm tattoo for the longest time now and figured that now would be the best time to do so. it has been a crazy couple of months and i have learned and grown in ways i could have never imagined. and so to commemorate the breaking free and the breaking down, i knew birds had to be incorporated somehow. i also knew that i wanted to express my shedding of an old life, of things i no longer need and so a feather was also another strong choice.

i remember the exact moment that i found the image that inspired this tattoo. it was right after an intense breakup. on this particular night full of way too much alcohol, tears and bad decisions, i was wrapping up a phone conversation with a close guy friend and went online to get my mind off of my current life situation. naturally i went to one of my favorite blogs (a girl by the name of rachel) and i found the image posted. i immediately saved it, filled with feelings of hope and strength, which at the time, seemed so far off.

and now here i am: tear-free, boyfriend-less, eating disorder recovered, depression managed, cutting recovered. it has been a long journey from point a to point b, but here i am. i've finally made it. i've finally learned to trust in myself, believe in myself and most of all, love myself.

i let myself out.

just a little something from one of my favorite movies.


"at times the world can seem an unfriendly and sinister place,
but believe us when we say that there is much more good in it than bad,
all you have to do is look hard enough.
and what might seem to be a series of unfortunate events
may in fact be the first steps of a journey."

i was standing at the drive-thru window this morning, fully exhausted due to the three hours of sleep i had the previous night and a severe depravation of caffeine. under normal circumstances, this would have been the perfect recipe for angry, short-tempered tiffany, but instead, i found myself with a surge of happiness, of feeling like everything is right in the world. i've been so focused on not having a relationship to depend on that i completely missed out on the wonderful people i have in my life already.

katie, for instance. even though she's still living back home in illinois, we can be apart for weeks at a time, but pick up right where we left off everytime. i can tell her almost anything and i always know she'll be there for me, no matter what the cost. she is one of my absolute best friends and i can't imagine what life will be like if she ends up moving to portland. (here's hoping!)

one of the newest additions is mikel. we became friends through dailybooth and once he came to visit, our friendship was solidified. we have so much in common, but still butt heads from time to time. even when i feel lost, i can call or text him at any hour and find myself laughing within seconds. it's an unexpected friendship that i can't wait to bring new memories to.

and then there's my starbucks. i've only been there for a little less than two months and already, we're family. we're there when someone needs us, we hold back the drama and we joke and take things with a grain of salt. judah, courtney, jenise - you're my loves. i can't imagine surviving that place without you.

so, even though parts of my life are still empty,  there are some parts that are overflowing. life is a journey and here in portland, i feel like the best chapters are spilling out before me. and to be honest? i can't even begin to explain the excitement i feel in my bones. i finally know that right now, in this moment, i feel like i have found my home.

portland, ily.

a little bit sad tonight.

so i've noticed recently, 

i have this stupid thing in my body.

it's called a heart

and it really bugs the crap out of me.

for whatever reason, i keep being reminded of the past,

of why i shut down, of why i am generally apathetic when it comes to love.

i try to pretend that i am an optimist, but with the history that is my life,

people come and go too frequently.

so i push people away,

i walk away into empty spaces, trying to understand,

make sense of why i am constantly being the one left behind.

truth is: i am afraid.

i want someone i can lean on, trust in and believe in.

i just want some fucking consistency.

currently playing:

"saviour (acoustic)" by lights.

good enough never is.

the title of this particular blogpost came from my ap senior english teacher. it was the first day of class and she was explaining the syllabus and the expectations she held for us during that year. she explained that she was sick of receiving papers that in her opinion "were half-assed" -- when you sit back in your chair, throw your hands up and say, "good enough" to her, that sounded like giving up. good enough never is. little did she know, this phrase would be what launched me into my deepest, darkest moments.

i had always had self-confidence issues. whether it was comparing my dancing to other girls i took ballet with, over-studying for my pre-calculus test or working two different jobs when i was in high school - it never seemed good enough. i never seemed good enough. i was constantly try to fill shoes that were too big for me. when i got to college, it got even worse. i was flown into an entirely new, exciting world where the stakes were even higher. it was all too much for me to handle and in an effort to feel stronger, i started restricting my eating habits. it started off small; skipping a meal here or there. but then it got bigger; going days without eating. then it became full out obsession; food was everything i talked about, thought about and cared about: calories, fat intake, workout schedules, protein absorption, diet pills, whatever i could get my hands on.

after multiple hospital stays, three stomach ulcers, countless therapy sessions and calorie plans, here i am, five years later and my docket reads: anorexia nervosa, recovered; bulimia nervosa, recovered.

but what does the even really mean? i'm still me, a mess of insecurities, compulsions and fears. i still count every single calorie in my head and i still know how long it will take me to burn off those calories. i still criticize myself every time i buy a pair or jeans or anytime i feel like i've eaten "just a little too much". there's the constant fear that i'll suddenly lose my way, slip up and give up everything again. going back to anorexia would feel like going home again and i'd be lying if there wasn't a huge part of me that is addicted to the way it makes me feel.

but the absolute truth? the only thing that's keeping me hanging on? the ability to live. anorexia steals that from you in an almost undetectable way -- it's the ultimate sacrifice, the ultimate irony in life; giving up your rights and your will to live for a feeling that has never made you feel so alive. you're convinced that you're strong and in control, when really, you're bound by the cage, because if you move too many steps in the wrong direction, you're the one who's lost control.

so for me, it is a battle everyday but it's one i am willing to fight.
because really, living in a hospital bed, hooked up to IVs and feeding tubes,
for me, that's no way to live.
and neither is living in a cage.

a hepburn living in a hilton world.

"tiffany, i don't mean to be rude or come off like a jerk-off, but when i first started talking to you, i thought you were a lesbian."

i've given a considerable amount of thought into this blog post and i feel now, more than ever, is the correct time to express my thoughts on this matter. the above quotation was taken from one of our regulars at starbucks, with whom i've had many long conversations with. we discuss everything from fashion, commerce, politics, religion, our worldviews, etc - there is nary a topic we will not debate. we were discussing our love lives as of late and he remarked on his impression of who i was. naturally, i was taken aback; what about me would lead him to this conclusion. and there it came, like a flash of lightning: "you're an intellectual. you read, you boast educated opinions and you're forthcoming with your concepts of an idealistic society. all of these things scream out the term power lesbian in my head."

now, i am not sure if eric is just being a small-minded prick or if maybe, he's on to something here. it wasn't until my latest MAX rides that this theory began plaguing me more and more. the conversations i happen to eavesdrop on generally circle around topics like who's marrying whom in hollywood, who holds the record on survivor, which girl threw up at which party and in what room and the like. it seems like we've gone from a country of audrey hepburn's and jackie kennedy's into ke$ha's and lady gaga's. it's all getting drunk, acting a fool and throwing caution to the wind. when did us girls lose our sense of class, dignity and self-reliance?

it breaks my heart to think that our society has gone from such strong powerful women figures to what i view as a detrimental break in judgment. now headlines read lines about coke deals, battles with bulimia/anorexia, jail breaks and sex tapes - where at one point we were all admiring mother theresa's limitless acts of simple love, audrey hepburn's poise and know-how with the less fortunate and jackie kennedy's political know-how.

i don't know how we got here or where the break occured, but somewhere along the way, women forgot how to cultivate themselves. we settled for getting C's because we wanted the cute boy to tutor us, we flashed our thongs for the homecoming king's attention and wound up losing more than a few IQ points. like i said, heartbreaking stuff here.

so where do i find myself in this mess? don't get me wrong, i appreciate lady gaga's unique new vision and her groundbreaking ways of busting out of the norm. but donning a meat dress? showing the world your cooter? these are not things i think should be held in high regard. cultivating knowledge, inspiring growth - these are things you should think about.

sure, reality television is amusing and trashy magazines are great fodder for a random slumber party, but as a constant way of life? please, i'll pass. hand me a good book, a glass of tea and a stimulating conversation any day.

so girls, before you drink down those twelve consecutive shots of jameson, let's pause for a moment and consider the facts. because, believe me, sometimes, it's best to err on the side of caution.

and as always, love, t.

in pieces?

i had a pretty excellent day. having the day off from work, i was able to sleep in and take things in my own stride. on my way to the library, i came across four different huge piles of leaves, so naturally, i jumped in each and every one of them. no second thoughts, no hesitation. i think i gave the old lady sitting in her car a good laugh. upon entering the library, i noticed that season three of the dexter series was waiting for me, as well as another book i had requested months ago. (finally!) next, i decided to stop into the rite-aid and found that their entire hair dye selection was on sale. 

it was gorgeous, sunshiney and warm - atypical for portland in the fall. so for all intents and purposes, today should have been a fantastic day. but for some reason, a dark cloud loomed over my entire day.

it wasn't until a few moments ago that i realized why. as i reflect on the past, i've noticed that even though i have "moved on" from previous romantic relationships and broken friendships, i'm still hurt from them. i still bear the scars. i still wear the bruises. and sometimes, when you've been hurt to your very core, over and over and over again by people you trusted most - a wall begins to form.

i find myself, an architect. after hurt word, after every punch and every blow, brick by brick, i learned to shut myself off. i cut myself off because sooner or later, everyone would hurt me, so what was the point of letting people in. 

there's a part of me that is still afraid that the people around me will rip everything to shreds.

 now playing:
"here i dreamt i was an architect" by the decemberists. 

hmph. i'm lonely tonight, err, not really lonely, but just, aware of my state of being alone. i just wish i knew someone here. someone i could just call up and cuddle with. someone i could laugh with and just keep it simple with. i don't want a boyfriend. i don't want the drama and the worries about the future. i just want someone to enjoy the moment with.

there are a few people i could call up, but there's always something lacking. i want more than just good conversation, i guess. i want a spark, an excitement, but i'm not about to lower my standards just to fill some void; that's not fair to them or me. i guess i just want a good guy friend - like kyle, jt or erik. i've constantly been surrounded by authentic guy friends and now, i'm all by my little lonesome. it's getting to me a little bit more than i expected. i guess i just want someone i can count on.

i'm hoping i'll be able to meet some genuine people once i start classes in january. but until then? i don't know. turn the other cheek? november won't be so bad though; katie and alex arrive this weekend and mike will be back hopefully around thanksgiving. so i guess i just need to keep my chin up. focus on work, on writing my book and figuring myself out. who knows, maybe something will catch me by surprise. you know how life can be ;) 

as always, love, t.

currently reading: 

one hundred days of solitude by jane dobisz.

i've grown.

it wasn't until recently that it finally hit me. i was standing in the middle of some stranger's kitchen at a halloween party, dressed up as a lifeguard. i was feeling pretty uncomfortable and body concious in my "one size too small, shows every flaw, skin-tight" bathing suit. then by a trick of fate, some gorgeous girl complimented my hair and makeup. she also told me i had a smile that brightened the entire room. of course she was a lesbian and probably just trying to get into my pants, but regardless, it changed my whole entire attitude that night.

and it happened again tonight, after a chat with one of my girlfriends from back home. she was going on and on about how she'll never measure up, how she'll never be good enough. my heart broke for her, but even more, because i realized that not three years ago, i was in the same boat.

i didn't always used to be, but i'm strong now. i'm independent and know my worth. i can ditch loser boyfriends and friends that are just trying to use me. i can speak my mind without losing my nerve. i can eat and not count every teensy tiny little calorie. i can don five inch high heels because i've strutted down many a'miles in chicago, in the snow, in a mini-skirt. don't get me wrong, i still have my days where i feel the battle is bigger than me. i feel like my jeans will never button and i shouldn't have eaten that last cupcake (or the last three.. i might have an addiction!). sometimes i look at 5'10 women and wish i had their gazelle-like features, with every hair in the right place and not a spot on their clothes.

but the truth is, if you're constantly comparing yourself, you're only ever going to be second best.. and maybe you're a "settling for second place" kind of person - but me? second place is never good enough. i want to be the very best version of me -- a woman that embraces her flaws, accepts her humanity and walks with style and grace; a woman who is independent, knowledgeable, considerate and welcoming; a woman who radiates love, inside and outside.

so like i said, i didn't always used to be,
but somewhere along the line, i realized just how important it is to love myself.
because let's be honest, i'm going to be with myself for a long, long time,
so we might as well be friends, eh?

as always, love, t.
(ps, it is my hope that you will be inspired to tell the women in your life just how wonderful they are, because you never know the impact of a kind word, or loving embrace, or smallest act of love.)

let yourself feel.

for being a writer, it seems silly how much i actually think in numbers; you'd think i was an accountant or something mathematically based. but no, i am a writer. it was never a concious decision i made. i never woke up saying, "alright, today, i'm a writer." when you're a writer, you just are. you are because you have to be. because there is no other way of being. it just came naturally to me and one of the high points specifically was that it had nothing to do with numbers because, truth be told: i hate numbers. they just remind me of things i need to remember.

how much money is in my bank account, how many shots go into a grande americano, how many days i have left until my library books are due, how long i have until i have to catch the MAX line light rail, how many calories are in that apple, how many words need to be in the written copy, how many inches the curtain rod needs to be. numbers, numbers, numbers, numbers and some more numbers.

but more often than not, my thoughts of numbers turn into questions of measurement. how well can i write that paper, how quickly i can make ten beverages, how fast i can bike those seven miles. it all seems to be a cosmic reminder of how good i am not. i stand up to the miraculously large life measuring device and come up short. the problem, i've noticed, is not my failure to check off boxes with my little red pen, but with how i view the world, more succinctly, how i view myself.

as a little girl, i've constantly evaluated and re-evaluated. my room was never clean enough. my clothes were never pretty enough. my books were never straight enough. never enough. never enough. this has carried on into my adult life, but at some point, i just gave up trying. life becomes too arduous when you realize that you have a list of 100 things to do each day and you'll only ever achieve 45 of them. that's not even half, so why even try? it's pointless, really. 

but the problem with not even trying to put up a fight is that, at the end of the day, you'll still feel like a failure. so i guess part of growing up is learning the balance. productivity plus giving yourself some slack. so forget thinking in just numbers. forget thinking in just words. let's begin to think in pictures. in feelings. in memories.

and today? this picture is how i feel.

broken. shattered. torn apart.

but don't necessarily believe that to be a pessimistic viewpoint,

because for me, i need to embrace my brokenness.

i need to learn how to let myself feel.

even if that feeling is pain.

"once more with feeling" 

by get cape. wear cape. fly.

as always, love, t.

sometimes my writing shocks even me.

Something Out Of Nothing.

It all started with the last day of finals in my freshman year at high school. I had just transferred to Bartlett High School into a class of nearly a thousand from a tiny 28-student class at Medinah Christian School. It wasn't until my Choir class that I had finally found my group, my niche. I spent hours and hours in the choir room, tearing open new pieces of music, learning choreography for the musicals and just plain hanging out. Naturally, the first two semesters passed by in a flurry. I hesitantly walked into the Choir room for the impending final at the end of the year. We would be required to sing a solo part and naturally, mine was in Chinese. I struggled to grasp the notes of the last three bars and prepared myself for what I thought would be the defining moment of that day. Unfortunately, I was wrong.  Our teacher greeted the entire class and told us that we would be exempt from taking our final. We all quizzically looked at each other and wondered why. A close friend and fellow student, Nassim, would not show up to the final that day - for the previous night, she had been kidnapped, taken to a nearby forrest, raped, brutally beaten and then killed. The air in the room thickened, as did the air in my throat. I felt the entire world collapse beneath my feet and an ocean of tears come to my eyes.

I wish I could say this was the first time I was confronted with a death throughout my high school career, but unfortunately, life took a different turn. It seemed as though two deaths a year ever since I was 15 seemed to be the standard in my life. Every year would pass and every time I'd grab a black dress, purchase tubes of waterproof mascara and tell a family, a friend or a loved one that my deepest sympathies were being sent their way and that I hoped God would comfort them in their sorrow. Somewhere along the way, I had forgotten to extend the same sympathies to myself. I built up walls and distanced myself from people, because insofar as I knew, they'd be gone in a blink an eye anyway. So what was the point of getting close?

It wasn't until this past summer, when my beloved Oma (grandma in german) passed away in a silent, dignified and pain-free death. It wasn't until she passed, that my family realized Oma was the glue that held us all together. So this loss, among the many others we've experienced as a family, held a dark, stormy cloud over our heads. Naturally, I pegged myself to be the strong, silent one. I would be the one who would hold my head high, swallow the tears and thank everyone at the wake and funeral for their attendance. At the wake, I held myself with the utmost grace, speaking of her unconditional love and how she taught me to have that kind of love in my own life. I spoke of happy times and seemed as if I was at peace with her passing. And it wasn't until the funeral the next day, after hearing the loving speeches from my sister and my aunt, that I finally realized that I could no longer be the stronghold, that I had to embrace the pain of the losses I had experienced and allowed myself to finally break down and admit that I was not okay.

I've had many lessons in my life, but this, the embracing of the pain and allowing it to wash over me was an experience I wasn't quite prepared for, but needed to have. For so long, I had held it all in, pretended like it didn't matter and quietly suffered because I never wanted to inconvenience anyone. But as we all know, at some point, enough is enough. We need to allow ourselves the room to breathe, to cry and to just be. It took a long time to get here, but now I've finally realized the beauty in the breakdown.

as always, love, t.

cultivation.

so as most of you know know, mike from dailybooth came and visited me. i couldn't have imagined a better get together. we spent our time eating, going to concerts and laughing the entire time. we formed an instant friendship that i am so incredibly blessed by. this weekend was just what i needed.

i've been feeling lonely and extremely lost in portland, not really knowing anyone or where i'm at ninety percent of the time, but things are getting easier, slowly but surely. sometimes i get so lonely i forget how to function and other times i couldn't be happier to be out on my own. it's a weird mix of feelings, but i sort of like it. my heart has been uneasy though. i see all of these couples and it makes me long for a sort of intimacy. i love being single, but there are definite times where it'd be nice to have someone to go along with. i talk to scott pretty often, but there seems to be some disconnect between us. i love him, but i feel for right now, it's just a best friend type of love. he's my confidant, my friend, but we still need to figure our own things out.

maybe i'm bitter about the possibility of love or maybe i just haven't found the "right person" yet. even still, maybe it's a matter of getting my ducks in a row first, like mike said: school first, love later - but i wonder if maybe that's just another excuse. a part of me desperately wants to be known intimately again, and not just sexually but i want to feel a level of intrigue, of excitement, of seduction, of feeling true connectivity. maybe i just need someone to fill a void, the emptiness i feel because i don't really feel connected to portland yet. so maybe it's a good thing i'm still on my own; yet another brick in the wall, another sign that there's still more i need to figure out for myself. there are still questions that are left unanswered. but right now? i'm still lonely and i still feel lost ninety percent of the time.

but that's where people like mike and sarah come in: a friend, a link, a connection to keep me here in portland; to guide me, to help me feel grounded. so instead of finding love, maybe i should focus on cultivating friendships, finding myself and exploring this new city.

one day at a time.

as always, love, t.

waving, not drowning.

today is one of those perfect portland days.

whilst we wait for the clouds to sneak up and 

for the rain to appear, reminding us of typical autumn weather,

the sun shining is down upon us, catching us off guard,

reminding us that surprises are always at hand, always around the corner.

if i think back, i can remember one particular day, just like this.

i was still living in grand rapids, michigan and a friend from chicago 

had come up to visit me. "let's go to the beach," she begged.

and so it was at holland state park we found ourselves,

bathing in the sunshine, immersed in the jovial voices around us.

our favorite activity was throwing ourselves into the water,

giving our complete selves into the waves. 

there was no time for holding back, no time for hesitation.

but there was the occasional moment that i'd misjudge the wave,

lose my footing and find myself being tossed in all directions,

without control and without a place to regain my balance.

it felt as though each wave was specifically timed to make sure 

i'd never reached the surface again,

but then the tide would turn and to the surface i'd return.

as i remember the strength i felt that day each time i regained my balance,

i can only notice the similarities with which the waves relate to the changes in my life as of late.

with the passing of my grandma, friendships that have ended and my move to portland,

everything keeps happening to me, one wave right after another, 

and i find myself, at times, losing my footing, being sucked under, 

facing the raging and unrelenting waves alone.

i question my levels of patience, my endurance with regards to the challenges ahead,

often turning to self-doubt, wondering if i'll ever again make it to the surface.

but then, i catch myself and remember that if i can just keep kicking my legs,

if i can just keep fighting, keep believing, keep hoping, then i will make it back to the surface.

it is too easy to forget that these changes are part of life, a part of growing up;

because without these challenges, i'd never know the strength i hold in my grasp.

it is a long and hearty process, this growing up thing.

but, i believe that with each step, i am cultivating the kind of woman i want to be.

each day is but a stepping stone and the journey is just beginning,

but jump on in, the water is perfect.

in conjunction with: soak it in.

(a letter i wrote to a friend of mine.)

tiff's tips for optimism:
_surround yourself with friends that love you unconditionally.
_immerse yourself in tea, coffee and whatever makes you happy.
_soak up as much of the vitamin d from the sun as you can.
_spend time with a really good book.

and for when you're at your lowest?
look up, look around.. find the smallest things and hold tight to them. remember that bad things are a part of this life, as are good things. life is hard and tough and you've got to fight for it, so you take your happy wherever you can find it, even if it's in something small, or something that seems silly or corny at the time.

and if things are ever really really really bad?
message call text me because sometimes you just need to:
scream, rant, talk, cry, be silent with someone else.

soak it up.

ode to lrc, band of horses.

i don't know where it has come from,
but lately, i've felt a surge of happiness.
of contentment, of hope.
of feeling like things are in their rightful places.

maybe it's the beginnings of a new chapter.
maybe it's the growth and self-development.
maybe it's the letting go and moving on.
i do not know, but for the first time in a long time,
i feel like myself again.

of course, there are all sorts of things i don't know.
all sorts of plans i have yet to figure out.
but sometimes there's loveliness in the not knowing,
in the unexpected, in the unfamiliar.

"the world is such a wonderful place."

customers and colleagues at starbucks continually ask,
"tiff, where does your energy come from? your spark?"
if only people would notice the little things.
those are what get me through the day.
the world is our's for the soaking it and appreciating.

you just have to let it in.

somewhere only we know, keane.

"i walked across an empty land
i knew the pathway like the back of my hand
i felt the earth beneath my feet,
sat by the river and it made me feel complete."

having been in portland for two months now,
my breath is constantly being taken from me.
the mountains, the expanse of trees, the willamette river,
the sight and hope that mt. hood gives me.
i love it, i feel comforted by it.

and yet, there's still something missing.
something i have yet to put my finger on.
i stand in downtown portland nearly everyday,
longing for the loud sirens, the hum of busy life,
the chaotic, minute-by-minute stresses of a busy urban area.

i find myself torn.
city. nature. city. nature.
i know i cannot have them both.
i do love portland, but i think chicago might be
where i end up.
where i settle down.

don't get me wrong,
i love pieces of portland.
it's a beautiful city with a good balance of nature
and the beginnings of a beautiful city
and right now, for me, trying to figure out who i am,
portland is a great place to do just that,


but chicago will always be home.

in conjunction with: breaking up is hard to do.

we might as well be strangers, keane.

(a post-post-post-post break up letter.)

it doesn't happen too often anymore,  but there are still times that creep up on me, times where for no reason at all really- i miss you - or rather, i miss how it was: how it began, the parts in the middle
where we lived and breathed in each other, soaking up all that we could, which is probably why it never really worked out. but i have to admit, it was sweet while it lasted. somewhere along the way, we fell madly in love with each other, and that's the part i begin to miss; the love we shared, it was real. it was passionate and exciting and thrilling and totally nerve-wracking and terrifying. it made me lose my breath and my concept of steady ground. i miss that level of intimacy: of seeing nothing else, of knowing nothing else, of having that sense of security, of being so sure that our love would save the day. i had the time of my life and i lost myself in it.

it feels like it's been ages, from there to here, but sometimes for brief lapses in the time-space continuum, it feels like it was just yesterday and after all is said and done, now that i'm on the other side of the heartache, i can say with complete resolution that i'm glad you had the strength to walk away and to end it, even though you knew it would break my heart. you accepted the role of the bad guy and you did it because you loved me enough to let me go. you knew that i needed to go figure myself out, independent of anyone, including you and, i can't thank you enough for what you've given to me by way of what you had to take away from me.

and so here i find myself, all grown up and with the strength to say that:
i love the memory of you enough to let it go.
cut scene.
roll credits.
end.
t.

breaking up is hard to do.

we might as well be strangers, keane.

i've been thinking a lot about breakups lately,
with some of my friends in the throws of the pain it causes.

when you're with someone for a long time,
certain feelings tend to procure, plans tend to be made
and whether or not it's the "real deal" crosses your mind.
for some, the level of intimacy increases with each step
and for others, it drives them apart. relationships end and hearts are broken.
feelings are hurt, harsh words are said and doors are slammed.
they exit each other's lives and that's the end of it.

each person goes down their separate path, not looking back.
but for the rare few of us, we stand there, awe-stricken. confused, broken, lost.
as you can tell, i've found myself in that situation a time or two.

and what really plagues me: where does the love go?
how can you go from spending special moments together,
loving each other, sharing in hopes and dreams
to suddenly becoming strangers.
cut film, roll credits, end.

it seems so.. sudden.
but maybe, for some relationships, that's the only way to heal.
the only way to get out of a bad situation. tear off that band-aid and run.
maybe for others, it's just a business transaction-
swipe the card, relieve me of my debt, i'm out the door.

to me, it all seems very passe. an easy out.
most of us are looking for a goodbye as meaningful as the relationship.
regardless there is one fact we can agree upon:
breaking up is hard to do.
hard to go through. hard to heal from.
there's no way around the pain, no way under it or above it.
just through it. 

my breakup advice?
you just have to keep going, take deep breaths.
and hold tight to the fact that each day gets easier.
surround yourself with people who will listen, bring you chocolate,
listen to you bitch, drink shot for shot with you and let you be sad mad happy crazy.



"we're strangers in an empty space.. it's easier to be apart,
we might as well, we might as well, we might as well be strangers."

wires and waves, rilo kiley.

so another day had come and gone

and i am already feeling the anxiety of not being in school,

and for lack of a better feeling, i feel like a failure.

it's as if i'm being punished for my uncertainty at ages 18, 19 and 20.

i feel completely weighed down by all the things i should be.

all the things i know i am not. all the things i will never be.

but no, i am not any of those things.

i don't even really know how to let people in.

after all these relationships, falling in love, falling out of love -

all of these things feel like wasted time.

with all of the things i've learned, i still feel like i know nothing.

i remember being in high school, feeling like i had all the time in the world.

feeling like things were much simpler, decisions were made 

and i never had to worry because there was always another year of school.

back then, life was all black and white. and now? it's nothing but shades of gray.

filled with tons of unanswered questions and ticking clocks.

life became so complicated so quick. without me even noticing.

i know, i'm only twentythree. i'm still young.

i have lots of time but maybe time is but an illusion.

maybe when you think you have a lot of it, 

you really don't.

time is fleeting.

"and sometimes lonely hearts, 

they just get lonelier."

single and fabulous?

the earthquake of '73, the fruit bats.

i'm sitting in a starbucks in downtown portland, overlooking the square.
it's a surprisingly busy monday, the rain does not stop for anyone.
everyone's got their fall jackets, boots and umbrellas out,
prepared for whatever kind of weather oregon might throw at them.
and here i am, having absent-mindedly left my coat at home,
sticking out like a sore thumb, with my pants soaked to my ankles.

but that's not the only thing i am noticing that separates me from the townfolk;
everyone is paired off. it's like noah's ark and i didn't get the memo.
i've been told that oregon is a place people come to settle down,
but seriously, couples are everywhere i look.
a couple of teenagers making out on the corner 10th and yamhill,
the sweetest gay couple cuddling on the steps of pioneer square,
even a man and wife committing to a life together,
regardless of the rain and doubt that threatens to separate them.

everyone here is so unabashed,
unafraid of the unequivocal love they share.
people love so freely here.
and then there are people like me.

people that build walls and make every excuse to run away.
even when a great thing is staring them straight into the eyes,
even when every promise you could ever imagine being promised,
we still walk away. we still say no. we cling to our singlehood.
maybe we're scared. maybe we're damaged. but our love, it's a fight.

i've wondered if maybe there's someone out there that will fight for it.
or maybe, maybe someday i will have to break down my walls for someone.

all i know, whatever i do, for right now, i have not found that person yet.
and until i do, i will have to walk in these single shoes.
and that is perfectly alright with me.

good enough, will it ever be?

heaven knows i'm miserable now, the smiths.

i fumble my words even though they flow even in my head
and my khaki trousers can never stay perfectly clean.
i have frizzy hair and i've noticed that one leg is shorter than the other.
i constantly find the easiest concepts difficult to grasp,
yet the hardest ones come so naturally.

i keep wondering if there is something wrong with me.
keep thinking that if only i could do a, b, c, 1, 2, 3 - things will be alright.
things will finally feel normal. the way they're supposed to.

if only i could be.
if only i was more.

why is it that i can tell other people how amazing they are;
list off their greatest qualities, all of their strengths.
but when it comes to myself, all i have is a list a mile long
of things i have yet to do, things i want to be, things i will never be.

"i was looking for a job, then i found a job,
but heaven knows i'm miserable now."

i constantly feel as though i am not measuring up.
there is always someone better out there, always someone to beat me.
maybe that's why i'm having such trouble writing lately.
why i have not been published. maybe it's my fear holding me back,
my constant worry of whether or not good enough ever will be.


i am trying to just breathe in and out.
breathe in positivity, breathe out negativity.
but really, i am worried that my work will never be
what i want it to be, what i need it to be.

and such is the curse of being a perfectionist..