Chapters

Everyone has a chapter of their life that they would rather not be read out loud. 

I have been struggling lately not to judge people. I have a endless loop of The Rock in Southland Tales (the movie) constantly telling me "Only God can judge me". This also keeping-my-opinion-to-myself and trying not to explode. 

Where is the median? Where do we decide what we can say out loud and what is callous and rude? 

I believe this is how I know who are my true close friends and who are not. 

Shallow grave

So you know how men buy women drinks in bars? I wish they would do the same with books in bookstores. 

I'm also pretty sure when I die you'll have to dig my body from underneath a pile of books I've meant to read.

Also, I wish the Ministry of Magic hadn't rendered the Time Turners useless.

Then I would have enough time. 

Cheese

I have this reoccurring dream 

where my so-called best friend is taking a photo of me.

I keep saying "don't get on the plane"

And she replys

"Say cheese" 

Flowers

This town is beginning to become a black hole. 

I wonder, if I discover that his music was really just a recording and the love story was stolen from a badly translated Spanish love poem...

Will I care?

Would he even put flowers on my grave? 

I'm beginning to think that I missed my chance.

Life

"I went out in the rain suddenly everything changed, they're spreading blankets on the beach"

We go through life pretending to be real. We are told from every angle we are to be a "solid citizen" a good person. But who is to decide how good is good? 

We become relieved that no one seems to notice that we hardly exist along with 7 billion people on the planet. We are only a thought, here and there. Some feeling floating around, a wave on the train, an "excuse me", a nod, a bewilderment of opposing desires and beliefs. I try to become what I can imagine a solid good person to be, while taking pointers and tips from other actors on this stage. 

Recently I was told that I have a "thing" going for me. It really struck me because I'm constantly struggling to be "myself" whatever that means. 

Everyone else seems so much more real to me than I do myself. 

Worm Dreams

Anyone ever wanted to be inside of my head? Here's my dream from last night:

In the future: I was at a school basketball tournament with hundreds of little kids teams. There was a news paper headline that said the emperor of the moon was exiled and it was being taken over by rebel aliens.

A rebel alien soldier was sent to the school basketball gym as a sacrifice. This tiny little worms virus, he ate them. They multiply inside of you, millions and millions. The worms got bigger and bigger until his body exploded in front of everyone.

And everyone screamed and ran away but they had this now airborne worm virus inside of their bodies without knowing it.

In my dream I was carrying a loaf of bread and my Ginger Kitty. I was at this scientist's house and we were trying to find an antivirus. The slugs were growing inside of us and we were picking them off of our skin cause they were growing and getting big enough we could see them. 

The residents of the moon wouldn't help us because they were the ones attacking us. Then I woke up. 

I wasn't scared I just wanted to find a cure to the virus. 

The Letter

I wrote this letter to a friend last June. I was told she was in a rehab facility in California for an eating disorder. I wrote this letter in an attempt to help her with her disease. The letter was returned to me in July of 2013 and I never opened it. I learned soon after that she was still here in Nebraska, in county jail for drug possession. I know from first hand experience that addiction is a disease no matter what form. I spilled out my heart in this letter, but somehow the letter came back to me. This is the letter, I have only changed the names of the people, for their protection.

*FRIEND*

I am not intending to turn this letter into anything sappy - crappy - snappy, but if it happens, I am sorry in advance.

First off I would like to say that I am sorry that stuff like that happened to you. Even the strongest tree gets bent in a hurricane.

I battled with depression and bulimia which turned into anorexia and back and forth for two years. It's hard being the one who always has a smile on her face and always helps people with their problems.

To this day my parents do not know.

I wish I could say it was simple, but pills don't cure everything.

It was ultimately me changing my friends and moving and trying not to be what everyone else wanted me to be.

I had stopped writing and reading (I have a degree in English Writing and Literature) and I began to go back and read novels I read when I was most happiest.

Not only the stories themselves but the places where I had originally read the books: At a pool, beneath a tree, at summer camp.

I began to realize a trend, that I needed to stop being so materialistic and settle down - back down to nature.

Even now, when I visit my parents in the tiny Nebraskan town I am from, I can't believe how dark it gets there, how bright the stars are, and how beautiful nature in it's simplicity is.

Looking at a flower up close is such a beautiful and living and wild experience at the same time and I don't believe in the Christian God, no offense if you do, but I know there is someone - something- somewhere fitting everything together, making everything match, I believe there was a reason why I checked my Facebook early in the morning and the first thing I saw was your post.

EVERYTHING HAPPENS FOR A REASON

There is an idea I wish to share with you. Something I really believe in. They call it "The Butterfly Effect"

Everything you do, whether it be in the physical work, in the internet world, in your mental world, EVERYWHERE, has a cause and effect (an action and a re-action if that makes more sense). You can do stuff or you can't but that CHOICE can start a whole cycle up - an idea - anything - you can be a Linchpin in any situation. Your choice of doing - or not doing - makes all the difference, but no one can tell you how to deal with your life - its up to you.

I guess I can use this letter as an example.

I could have entirely missed your Facebook post.

*YOUR FRIEND* could have decided not to give me your address, or the wrong one.
This letter could have been dropped between the cracks of two tables in any mail room from here to there, the mail man could deliver it to the wrong place.
I could have not written it at all.

Maybe I won't even send it.

But everything that happens and everything effects everyone else.

You are not alone.

I am not alone.

Maybe, I am YOUR Linchpin.

The world is about Women being beautiful
The world is about people just being people.

Everything happens for a REASON,
I hope this letter makes it there OK.
I love you, FRIEND, don't ever forget it

Paige

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I sent this letter, it was sent back to me. I never opened it until this day, today. I had kept it for awhile, then stuck it in a drawer, but today, I wanted to read it. And i feel the need to share it with you.

And I have no idea why.


(A "Linchpin" is a fastener used to prevent a wheel or other part from sliding off the axle upon which it is riding)