Navigate Me

Hey Out There,

I am a firm believer in starting over. In laying it all out on the table. In breaking your own heart for the sake of true disclosure. It's the darkest just before the dawn, at rock bottom there's no place but up, we have nothing to fear but fear itself, all that jazz.

It's the truth though. All of the fearful, jealous, insecure pieces of you, and all of the amazing, talented, entertaining pieces, these make up YOU. You are nothing to run away from. You are more than you could possibly ever be. You are a thousand unrealized reactions, a hundred unrealized dreams. You EMBODY possibility. And that's what it means to start over.

Starting over is sometimes a misnomer for the process. It is not a burning in effigy of a past self. It is not a burial of all you were. It's just a space. It's the part between where you broke into twelve zillion pieces and where you made a plan. It's that single breath where you decided to realize one of those reactions, try out a new dream, to take a chance on the possibility of who you COULD be.

It's the single most delicate moment in human existence. It's fleeting and terrifying and completely worth it. You're looking for something to believe in? Start with yourself.

Quote of the day: "I have not failed. I have just found 10,000 ways that won't work."

---Thomas Edison

Poem of the day:

There's a burning, changing light

I keep it within me;

As I go.

It dances in the darkness

Fearless; Unafraid

It's my very own secret smile;

Laughing with a child's wonderment

Winking with a woman's knowing.

It's Faith

In self possession-

In being a gift to myself.

Because it still burns on my darkest days

Warms the depths of my soul

When the world has gone cold

And unfeeling.

It's Hope that

Though my eyes are dark and mourning

I'll shine brighter than before

And give the world what I've seen.

I was born of sin and sainthood.

I see in incongruity-

A patchwork soul of colored flame.

It's all wrapped around within me:

Twisted circles; bathing in Dreams,

Endless stores of kerosene.

I've seen it all laid before me

In that shining little light-

My Next Day.

TAFNF,

Elena Grace

Bed Rock

Hey Out There,

We'd all be lying if we said we weren't out to save the world. I know. You've (probably) never worn your underwear purposefully outside of your pants, your idea of casualwear (probably) isn't a spandex bodysuit, and the only cape you've ever worn was that dishtowel you wouldn't take off when you were six.

You are not the evangelist screaming in his multimillion dollar church about living modestly, and you are not that hobo guy on the street with his cardboard sign lecturing about the END TIMES.

But this isn't really about that. This is about the thousand ways people die every day, though none of them actually involve purple flags and a motorcade.

This is about how maybe you recycle religiously, or how maybe you had exact change, or how maybe you made small talk in an elevator, or how maybe you were patient in traffic, or how maybe you meant it when you said "Have a Nice Day". This is about waving to your mailman. This is about throwing out that plastic bag on the ground. This is just.....about you.

Don't be a liar. Go save the world.

Quote of the day: "There is no such thing as small change."

Poem of the day:

Let's make a mark-

Lovely, imperfect,

Bleed life into black ink.

They might be only words, but we find

Permanence in transience, because

contradictions are the only logical things.

Anyhow, there's patches of flame on the

Sidewalk, where the rain runs clean.

But they remain unmuted, and

It's not harmony, but it's close enough.

Let's take it all for granted.

Drip sunlight onto white pages.

It might only be illumination, but

we find hope in arbitrary inspiration

and though it might be a train,

we're still walking, aren't we?

TAFNF,

Elena Grace

Which to Bury, Us or the Hatchet?

Hey Out There,

I'm new to this whole blogging thing. I feel a little like Tom Hanks in Castaway right now, with my computer as my metaphorical volleyball, but I'm tired of random thoughts banging impressions into my skull. There's nothing that reverberates more than the echo of silence in your own head.

Let's see. I'm quirky. Sometimes goofy, sometimes profound, and optimistically honest. I'm a regular guest at the Heartbreak Hotel, an adrenaline junkie, and a poet. I believe in small changes, balanced politics, and big dreams. I've got brains in my head and feet in my shoes, and I'm not quite sure yet which direction I'll choose.

I love words. I love putting them together and then pulling them apart. I love Scrabble. I love music. I know that our heartbeat is the backbeat to the words we say and that's why we feel so awkward sometimes, because we rush ahead and forget the beat behind us. And that's why sometimes, just like an instrumental, it's better to just not say anything, because that's when you say the most.

Poem for today:

Backwards light and sidestepped mornings

A place where "anonymous" is your name.

Where you slide through shadows and sidewalks

and both are of equal weight.

Is there ever a point to reverie?

If it's not something you'd want others

to read, and who am I to say, if that's

Wonderful, or selfish - to abdicate from the world.

To relieve others of your presence or

deny petty empathy her theories of self-worth.

I mean, if they were never yours in the first place,

Pay homage in the currency it is due.

For language is generative, but-

Ideas are cyclical, and-

What we were at the beginning

is what we will be at the end,

Only upside down,

and backwards.

Quote for today: "When you are who you ought to be, you set the world on fire."

-- St. Catherine of Siena

TAFNF,

Elena