Panic…ended

What do you do when you feel like this. How do you explain it, especially when you have brought it on yourself.

I said it was fine, I said it would be okay. Now, I don’t feel as if it is. I cannot explain the rush of emotions I have, the anxiety, the fear, the hurt…they are sending me into a panic

…and the phone rings…

It’s amazing how much the sound of a voice can bring a soothing rain to quench the fiery burn…

Feeling lost

There are times when you get lost on the road, and most of us have some sort of GPS we can use to get us out of that bind. If not, there’s a cell phone and a friend or relative that knows the area. If that one doesn’t pan out, you can always stop at the nearest gas station.

In life, these options rarely exist.

When you’re lost, you have to find something or someone that helps you gain traction and footing on this fast moving world of ours. Every time I feel as if I have that traction, I slip, and I feel as if I have to wait for the world to come full circle again before I have a chance to land again. So, what does one do in a 24 hour period when there is nothing else to do. You sleep, or you drive yourself mad from thinking too much.

Over the years, I have given so much good advice, steered people on the right track, and helped people advance in life. It seems that now that I need the help, although I have a support system in place, I just cannot seem to get it right. I feel as if I fail at every thing I do.

Lately the thing I fail at the most is not hurting someone, someone with an amazingly huge heart. Compared to her, I am cold and heartless. For a moment I was warm, then something happened and the light went dim again. I’m so lost with this…

I’m able to pick up just about anything that’s broken and fix it. Most of the time, without any help or instructions. When it comes to emotions, I feel like I’m trying to use a paintbrush to take my bike apart…useless.

How do you…

How do you tell someone that you feel you will never be able to treat them right?

How do you tell someone that you want to make sure that it’s not just you missing them that is bringing you back to them?

How do you tell them that you want to make sure that it is in fact your love for them that brings you back or keeps you around?

How do you tell them that you need to make sure you love them?

How do you go on and say that you feel you’re a terrible person that does nothing but make mistakes and cause pain?

How do you right wrongs that cannot be righted?

How do you even begin to explain thoughts that you yourself cannot understand?

How do you learn to speak their language when it does nothing but confuse you?

How do you tell someone that you feel as if all you do is bring them down?

How can you want to be with someone that has hurt you so much?

How do you feel? I feel so cold and numb again.

How do you know what to do?

How do you not feel lost?

How do you have hope?

How do I fix me?

So much in my head…

And it’s all screaming to get out.

I need to get it all out, probably in rambling. Not sure if it will all be here, or to my friends. Yup, I have friends… weird, right?

I just need for my thoughts to line up and stop flying around this cranium of mine long enough to be able to form proper sentences and paragraphs. Once I am able to do that, I am sure I will be writing more.

I hope it’s soon…it’s starting to hurt.

Understanding

What is understanding?

You reading this is you understanding that I am writing in English, but do you understand why I am writing at all?

This weekend is a mystery to me, and will probably remain that way for a very long time. I have no clue where things went wrong, when I thought things were going so good.

To the parties involved, it may seem like lip service, but truly it is not.

People say, “Where there is smoke, there is fire.” You may be one of those people, but it isn’t true. Where there is smoke, there is something creating smoke. True, it’s typically fire, however, it could just be a smoke machine…or you could me mistaking billowing steam as smoke (northerners get that).

My point is that you had an understanding that smoke meant fire, however, your understanding was wrong. That company of fire fighters is now at the party across the street telling them to take it easy on the strawberry scented smoke.

People have different perspectives, and until you see a situation through their eyes, you’ll never grasp what is going on.

I don’t think I’ll ever see through your eyes.

Meanings

Things mean different things to different people. A person can have a favorite rock, and then when you look at that rock, you see it is nothing special and you kick it. This will, of course, hurt the person that has chosen that rock as their favorite rock.

In this case, though, I will use a jar with sand in it. The jar is easily opened, easily emptied and can easily be refilled with the same or other sand.

I chose to empty this jar a short while ago. I thought nothing of it, as I was attempting to move on, I was trying to expunge memories that could be seen through its clear sides. The layers upon layers that had been poured in over time. Each layer represented special moments shared with a miraculous person.

Why would I try to forget these special moments? Because they tormented me. When I emptied the jar, I believed this person disliked me and could no longer care about me. I later found this to be wrong.

My jar was now empty and ugly. Being hasty, I began filling it with dirt and mud. It wasn’t the best filler, and I can see that now. At the time, though, I just didn’t want it to be empty. Unfortunately, the dirt and mud had all kinds of debris, leaves, insects…You get the picture.

Well, this miraculous person was able to allow me some time in their life. They showed me their jar, it was locked up tight, with all the layers of sand still inside. This made me ashamed of my jar, which I had so easily filled with other crap. Upon asking to see my jar, I was hesitant. This scared the miraculous person. I eventually gave in, she saw it, and she was devastated.

These jars, though meaning little to me, meant the world to her. My jar, now tainted, is no longer welcome back to see the miraculous person any more.

I wish my jar meant more to me, I wish I could have held on to the beautiful sand that was inside. I’ll never get it back, nor be able to see the matching one that the miraculous person holds. Its beauty is lost. Its seal is worn. It may never be beautiful again.

I’m sorry Mariah for allowing shit in my jar.

My tweets from the week ending with 2010-10-23

  • When will #Twitter allow users to center their background images? #

My tweets from the week ending with 2010-07-17

  • There are more iPhone app programming books than PHP and Ajax books combined at Barnes and Noble. Odd. #
  • I have a problem, I walked 10 minutes to the bookstore from the VW dealership. It is now pouring. #

My tweets from the week ending with 2010-07-10

  • Has anyone else noticed that "Jenny" (867-5309) is all about a guy finding the number on a public restroom wall? Classy. #

Worked all day.

So, today I kinda worked all day. Just kinda, though, because I only worked on my own personal site. I got the basic idea running, but have yet to complete it. I’m going to have to determine costs for services, and write about myself…wheee.

On the other hand, I have a friend that may be hooking me up with subcontracted work. It looks to be decent money for part time work. I guess I will see how it pans out.