I am afraid that you will leave me. You will find someone better than me, someone smarter, funnier, wiser, prettier. I am afraid that you will leave me for not being successful, for failing. I have failed me, you. I am nothing to be proud of, and yet you are here. When will it end? I am scared to turn the corner and see you gone.

Are my beliefs unfounded? Am I wrong? I am. I am.  I am?

I try so hard, please know that it’s true. I wake up everyday hating what I have become, who I am and what I am not. I wake up everyday wondering how I have let it come to this. I have chosen my own paths and found myself always in the same place. Does this not mean that I am hopeless? I am hopeless, and utterly useless.

So go ahead and leave me. I deserve it.

How does it always end up the same? You are as predictable as you let yourself become.

It was written in the stars? No. You wrote it there yourself and decided to let it happen. That’s what happened. You let yourself fail. You became your own worst enemy, you fell from the top and you hit the bottom just like you should have. Just like you should have.

What can be said for yourself? Do not deny yourself what you deserve. You deserve to experience your own hell, the pain of which you had decided for yourself when you became your devil. My devil? Lazy? Overachieving? Lier? Lier. To yourself, to your friends (?), to your love.

You see, good intentions will not get you there. They perhaps might light the fire, they might even fan the flames when you become renewed in your efforts to succeed, but most often they will become the water that douses the wood. You are the water.

The water, you say? I am the water. I am the reason for failure. I am a failure.

Go ahead, wallow. Drown your water self in the self loathing, and pity that seems to always be the final outcome. You lie to yourself, you pretend to try, and then you wonder what happened. Wonder away you “blind” girl. Pretend you don’t know, it will all be easier the next time you begin your chosen path. You chose your own cycle, so why don’t you stick to it? At least I can claim to be good at that, right?

Don’t pretend. Stop pretending. Stop.

I am the same. Improve yourself, and live the way you intended. Always become a better person, always hope for a little more. When are you satisfied? Never! How dare you suggest that I should stop trying to become someone else, someone that is respected, loved, wanted.

Who am I then? I am not me – the one with the promising voice, the one with the talents to succeed. How then can I become a dream? By dreaming the vision that will take me to the next level. I will only become myself when I beat down the devil in me.

Who then is that? The one that lies, the one that cries in her sleep, the one that wishes and longs for something better but never acts on her words.

Words. Words are words. I hear them and see them in all their glory but never really see how they can become actions; life.  What a life. What a lie. What a dream.

I am now officially in love with the extremely talented Michael Buble. What brought about such a revelation? Along with 12,000 people last night, I had the lucky pleasure of spending 3 wonderful hours with a man I would probably have my children with (if he asked). No, I’m only joking (Michael, I love you!). Yes, that’s right. It only took 3 measly hours to turn me around from one of the most skeptical fans entering that massive arena, whom I must admit was almost willing to scalp the tickets last minute. My excuse was this: I was tired, I had just skipped another day of class (and was feeling as guilty as ever), and my boyfriend tired of driving (we came in from another city, about 1 1/2 hours away), was not looking forward to sitting through a concert that he was being forced into seeing. So, when I entered that arena I was not expecting much, and to my despair I was now being surrounded by a bunch of middle aged women (who were also dragging along their partners). Thankfully I found though, I was not alone. You see I had floor tickets, and from what I could see, the arena was segregated into those sections where those able to afford the closest, look up your nose tickets were the madly in love middle aged women, with the young ones left to their own screaming devices on the cheaper balcony seats. Now, I can’t really account for what happened next, or how I fell so madly in love. It could be that this was my first concert ever, and that I was getting excited, and invigorated by the thousands of people surrounding me. It could have been the flashing lights; the sounds. Whatever it was, I quickly became a sucker for the overpriced Michael Buble merchandise and used up almost $50 just to have Michael’s name splashed across my chest. That’s right folks. I was now becoming one of his newest groupies, and was ripe for the bra throwing. As luck had it, my boyfriend recognized the symptoms and held me back from changing into my groupie tee (and come on, I only had one bra with me, and it was my nicest one; I wasn’t that crazy). I was now ready to make myself into a fool.

On a side note related to my ever increasing desire to want to marry Michael Buble (or just have my way with him). My boyfriend brought up this interesting thought. Why is it, that women can just throw themselves at celebrities, hoping, wishing, longing madly for a one night stand with that celebrity, and if men were to do it they would be considered scum? He pointed out, that men were willing to sleep with any women not just those that were famous, and that women were idealists. He asked me, if Michael Buble came up to you and wanted to have his way with you, would you let him. And I said, “Only if I was single” (yes, that’s right). And he said, “But if some stranger came up to you and tried to do that very same thing, what would you do?”. “I would tell him to go to hell, and possibly slap him depending on how bold of a statement it had appeared”. Yes, I am aware of the absurdity of this, but there is absolutely no way that I can explain how this works. I was reinforced by the other thousands of screaming women surrounding us. It was amazing. If for some reason I didn’t enjoy the show, I would have enjoyed the night just for witnessing the front row women throwing themselves shamelessly at Michael Buble.

This was a night I will never forget. It was romantic, it was beautiful, and very intimate (as Michael said it would be from the very beginning). Not only did he sound better live than on a recording, but he was also very charismatic, witty, and charming. I stood there almost the entire time with a grin slapped across my face; I felt like I was in heaven. To add to this, my boyfriend came to appreciate Michael. You see, he is a big fan of the good old torchlight songs; and there was a brilliant mix of both Michael’s own collection, with many classics that appealed to the older generation (and a few saps like me). What more could I have asked for? I can’t speak for my boyfriend, but I can add with some certainty that he enjoyed himself thoroughly, and that we fell in love with the moment, and with each other just a little bit more (if that is even possible). I know it sounds utterly corny, but who am I kidding to pretend that it was anything less than that to me.

It was a show for the romantics out there, and for all of those single girls looking for a bit of fantasy in their lives. I fully recommend dishing out for Michael Buble tickets, it guarantees to be an unforgettable night. And if you want to experience a little more of the excitement that comes from being in the first row surrounded by screaming women, pay the extra money. I know I will next time.

I have a problem: I am a procrastinator. I wonder why I get this way sometimes. It happens randomly, and when it happens I am totally kicked to the ground; disabled until I finally recognize the symptoms. I am a product of my own making, however, and I recognize that it is all because of my actions. I sit and I wait. I do nothing until the last moment. Then I am overtaken with fear. Shouldn’t it all be different? Shouldn’t I have been able to make it this time? Well, no. Nothing can ever change if action is not taken. You are defeated before you even begin. The problem is, you promise yourself that you will be different but you actually never change.  You never change. You are all talk. You lie to yourself and to others, and then you wonder why you fail.

It sounds like such an arbitrary thing what I am talking about, but I feel that I am not achieving my full potential. Is it a lack of motivation, laziness, or is it just a continuous stream of self sabotage that I carry out every cycle? I am not quite sure. All I know, is that I have done it again. I have skipped 3 days worth of lectures, I completed none of the material from last week, and worst of all (and this is always my wake up call), I have skipped a lab. I have another lab on Thursday, which I have not prepared for yet. Lets hope I do something about it. That’s my problem, isn’t it? I’m hoping I will do something about it. If that’s not a cop out for blame, then I really don’t know what is. I mean, I’m going on as if there is no explanation for my own failure, as if I had no hand in it; it was all up to fate. I feel ridiculous that those words were ever written. How dumb can I be?

Note to self: Just do it now. Don’t wait. Whatever you were planning to carry out tomorrow, do it today.

I stumbled on an image that absolutely took my breath away. I wonder how life can afford such beautiful encounters, such wonders that may be explained but hardly believed. The image comes from the photography of Michael Klensch, of the Aurora Borealis over the Klondike highway which connects Alaska to Dawson City, in the Yukon. It reaffirms the connection and intrusion that humans may afford over nature and its beauty.

Here you have a breathtaking view of the Rocky Mountains and Aurora lights, disrupted by the human touch brought on by the paved highway. It not only disrupts the life of the species that inhabit the area, but also the nature which is now in a precarious position of being destroyed at the whim of humans who may or may not choose to take it over. This to me symbolizes the struggle between humans and nature. Or it could not. Perhaps I am over thinking it. Whatever this image is, it is at the very least wonderfully beautiful.

To all of those interested in more from this photographer, check out his portfolio at: http://photo.net/photodb/member-photos?user_id=2217284

Ok. I do not promise that I am an insightful, smart, or amazing person, looking to open the world up to my eager eyes. I am merely using this as a forum for the random going ons of my world (and how I interpret them). I invite all to comment, and to teach me through your eyes what I may or may not be lacking in the wisdom department. I also invite any and all into my life, though I will not claim to be a very exciting person. Enjoy.