Dudes are frustrating sometimes. Like I was mundo tired today and was kind of counting on not talking but I needed to get on my computer to do my Spanish homework earlier and naturally I sign on to my messengers too. I was not really in the talking mode to be honest. But Ben starts talking to me. So I change it up, get in a better mood for the hellz of it. I do my girly happy thing and I do feel in a better mood and I feel awake and playful and stuff. But I can't get much of a response anyway. Toward the end he asks "Do you not like it that I can't be spontaneous/creative?" And then that kind of sets me off like "What the hell? Where did that come from?" But I can't lie. I can't sugar coat things. Anyone that knows me knows I have like....zero tact and very little filter. It is just who I am. So things kind of rolled from there. I told him I wish he was somewhat more playful but the reward for me is the smile and he thought that was a shame. I even told him I was fine with that. But then it just kind of rolled downward from there and naturally a storm brews in my eyes and whatever happiness I pulled up turns in to an icey stone in my heart.

I just wish he would believe in himself and not ask me questions that make him the victim and knows will tear him down. Like I try to put a positive side in but after a time that gets frustrating. I feel like I already put enough energy in through my spontaneity, through my random declarations of love and surprises, when I try to be positive even though I myself feel like complete and total shit, when I try and stay online for him until my eyes are closing and my body is demanding sleep. For him to imply that I reject who he is because I say "bah" is bullcrap to me. I am trying here. Sometimes I don't know what more he wants from me. If he still has doubts in my affections for him then I honestly don't know what more to do. I wish he would believe in himself and in me but I honestly do not know how to create that.
I don't doubt that he loves me, I have never questioned him there. But I cannot understand this need to seek out one's imperfections and dwell on them. It is there where I feel like I am unsuccessful and it makes me examine my own self for whatever I am doing wrong...But I don't know it is and some things about me I cannot change and for that matter I outright refuse to on some things. I am happy with who I am.

Yeah, he's tired and stressed and things but so am I and being in this negative state does not help anyone.

I am fine with the distance and I am fine with waiting until May until I see him. I am content. For once I have remained mostly doubtless about someone which feels nice.
There are times when I feel scared. I am actually a very fearful human being.
My commitment sits on my left hand in the ring I started wearing from when we first began talking. It is a testament to the past and a companion of the future and has kept me thus far.
But my strength....that is what I need to find.

I'm just so tired. I don't know why I put the energy in to these thoughts. But they eat away at me.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Freestyle/Stream of Consciousnes

Black versus white
A start contrast in my sight
slipping in to the lines and the patterns before my eyes
I flow along the zig zags and the triangles and the right angles.
They keep me in the zen as I listen to the lecture floating in my ears ordering the information in my patterns that have existed in the margins of my notebooks forever. The rythemic flow of my pen as I create the symetry on the pages between the words.
Lost in the patterns of the words
a rythemic flow
of stop and go
of the pausing staccato of my thoughts
that ever constantly spinning and tapping
through the trappings of the woven webs of the mind
I need this rythem to keep me in the zone
to keep my conscious before I fall in to dreams.
I want to be lost to be free for the winds to ride past me and carry me away of the hills and past the water and to some distant place. If I became a bird how far would I go before my feathers fell out and I had to go slow. My wings could not take me far enough, for I would rather be the wind itself ever moving. But even the wind gets stuck in the same old eb and flow
and it all relates back to
patterns.
So I choose to bend and break and play with the same old patterns and the cyclic nature that is life. You live you die. You go through the same old same old. I look through the passages of history and it becomes somewhat plain to me these
patterns.
So I am constantly drawing in my patterns though they are no so rounded and not quite so fluid as the ones of the world. Indeed I need more time, more experimentation before I go beyond the straight lines and sometimes curves, beyond the diagonals and squares.
The patterns of the world boggle my mind.
I thought about the air around me as I sat in the bathroom and it amazed me that around me where these atoms that made of air and that whole they appear to not be there that they are and that they are amazing. I was amazed that they make up the tiles of the floor and the metal of the stall and the porceline of the toilet and the skin I am in and the thoughts that pass through my mind. I was amazed and the fact that just these elements on a period table make all of this up around me just from varying combinations and
patterns.
It was beautiful.
It was amazing.
How do the atoms feel about me being conscious of them? That they make up my mind? That their combinations have created this body. It is almost too much to take. If God is any bigger than the atoms and their beautiful possibilities then it is no wonder that he had to use Gabriel to talk to Muhammad.
I thought this while going to the bathroom and while sitting here now.
Wow.
Patterns....

~~~~~~~~~

I think I will go and do my homework now.
Peace.
~Lo