Hearts.

Let me tell you how my heart is exploding, with more joy and ache than most days.

There aren't many people in the world you get to experience such excitement for. At least, not for me.

But when you do get excited, when your inner most being is stirred by simply hearing someone's name it is something that is hard to pass up. It is hard to let go of, to be ok with, to move on from. It's hard to believe it'll come again, something in such rare form, and you don't know if lightning can strike twice and who are you to be so arrogant to believe that you deserve such luck?

At least, this is how I think.

I get absolutely terrified of letting people go. Especially those who were important to me. It is half of me being scared that relationships like that will never come again, and half of me really appreciating that those people, in all of their uniqueness and rarity, came into my life to begin with.

But tonight, I was reminded once again of how important it is to move on. I don't know that I can yet, but I know it's something I'll try to do. And something I'll try more often to understand as a natural part of life, not a failure, but an experience, and a necessity.

In any case, these feelings are not all bad. It's good to be reminded now and then that you can in fact still feel them. I feel like the Civil Wars have been matching my mood tonight, so I figured I'd share this with you.

"Poison and Wine"

Therapy.

As I said in my last post, I've gotten on this YouTube kick. I really like TedTalks, but they spend so much of my time. They're about 20 minute talks on any interesting subject by an outstanding person in whatever field. (you might say, I'm deliberately trying to be as vague as possible)

Anyway, one of my favorites is the talk given by spoken word poet Sarah Kay. She delivers two poems she wrote, one at the beginning of the talk and one at the end and speaks about the benefits of poetry. One of the greatest parts is when she talks about how she writes and sometimes she writes it turns out to be about a problem she didn't even realize she had and by the end of the poem she realizes a solution she would never have encountered.

Until last night, I didn't really realize how this applied to me.

While I've been at Augie, I really haven't written a song. In my 2 years here, I've written about two songs. Usually, I write a song, or at least learn a new song every month. It didn't really worry me until I realized how much time had passed, and how much I am replaying old material.

But tonight, I realized what may be the problem. I often would write and never really show anyone my songs. It wasn't until late in my high school career that I ever dared to show them, or play them in front of a crowd. Now, whenever I'm trying to come up with a new chord progression or lyrics, I automatically think of how it may be received. Songwriting, essentially, has no longer been something I do for me, but something I try to do to please others.

Which is fine, if it works for you, but it hasn't for me.

Songs used to be the way I communicated how I really felt, without having to explain every detail. It used to be a way that I worked through problems I never even really recognized before and found new solutions I otherwise never would have encountered. And maybe the reason I haven't been able to write is because I've lost this sense. I can't write about what pleases others or what's more relatable to other people because I'm not them, and frankly I have no motivation to do that.

So, hopefully, with this realization I'll remember how to write again. Or at least, pop out one more song before I leave Augie.

Will you hear me, now?

I've gotten on this new kick lately.

I kind of am in a love/hate relationship with YouTube. I mean, not only does it lead to so many stupid videos but it has this ridiculous capacity for good, for hope, for connection. And hell, a whole lot of stupid animal videos for people to laugh at.

I've been watching a lot of Hannah Hart (My Drunk Kitchen) or Jenna Marbles, but specifically, I've really gotten into this guy called zefrank. He has a show, legitimately called ashow. And it's about all of those things. Connection, laughter, hope, community and anything that someone desperately searching for might need to hear in the middle of the night.

And all I can think about lately is how I want to do that. I just want to be able to be a beacon in the middle of the night, a lighthouse for people to recognize that they're not alone. I don't want to be held down to school but instead be running around the world like a chicken with its head cut off trying to experience all of the human experiences possible.

But then there's fear. And there's doubt, and theres no belief in my own ability. Which is my own problem, and maybe I'll get over it but I'm terrified of not being able to jump over myself. I really want to.

And I don't want the answer to be my own start to a youtube channel because I honestly don't know how to make cool videos or edit them and I don't believe I know how to just talk and make a point in front of a camera. But I know I want to make a connection.

I want to listen and be heard.

And every day I am more inspired to do that, to reach out to more than just the kids around me.

But that's a big bit to try and chew.

Then again, though, what else am I doing?

Tomorrow.

Well, it's almost been a year.

I'm not entirely sure that I'm sorry for that, I don't really know who reads this/would read this and I'm not sure my writing style is all that interesting enough for someone to miss it...

But, if it was missed, I am sorry.

Anyway, we could possibly do a whole recap post of the last year, because, boy, has a lot happened BUT!
That's not today's post.

Today's post is just something I felt like writing to motivate myself. And maybe it won't work but it's worth a shot. And that's kind of the point of what I'm going to write anyway. Because I'm going to write about trying.

This last year has been terribly hard. So many things have happened and so many relationships have been broken or needed mending or couldn't be mended and hurt and maybe will hurt for a while. And I just keep thinking:

Things have to get better, right?
This will get easier. It will get better and I will be happier.

And the more time that passes and things aren't, I feel like a failure. I feel like the fact that I can't make it better for myself means that I'm stuck in a perpetual state of sucking. And it's hard for me to write about this because to some extent I still think it's true, I still think that maybe if I just didn't suck so many things just wouldn't suck for me and maybe this is just who I am and I should stop hoping or expecting for these feel better feelings or situations to come through because they just won't.

But, maybe it isn't about that.

Maybe, the problem with how I'm feeling or what is happening is not because this is how my life is supposed to be, but because I'm focused on the wrong type of success that I want.
Maybe, the point is not that things are ok. But that I find the success in trying.

Because throughout all of this, I have been trying. I've failed and wanted to give up and wanted to stop but I am relentlessly bent on not being resigned to things perpetually sucking. Which surprises me, even, because I don't give myself that much credit. And it constantly leaves me vulnerable to getting my hopes up and being disappointed.

But, at least I'm trying.

And I'm not one of those people who believes every person deserves an "effort" trophy, but when it comes to life, if that's what you have to hold on to, isn't that something to proud of? That you're still grasping on to it, and breathing in?

The fact is, that I'm still trying to make each day, even each hour, a new start. I'm trying to make it the beginning of an ascent I've been waiting for since the end of October of last year. And maybe each day, each hour, may be a failure of that goal but at least I am going to keep trying.

Hopefully, that's good for something. Anyway, here is to a chance of something new, and something better. Here's to the next hour, and to tomorrow. Basically, here's to the fact that my life will absolutely change, and the comfort and fear that comes along with that.

Fix You.

It's cliche, but I've been really liking this song. I wish I could pull off an acoustic version that was just as beautiful.

Melancholy.

For the first time in a long time, I'm kind of rethinking my take on people in general.

Usually, I believe the best in others.

Usually, I can give others the benefit of the doubt.

Usually, I can love easily, and unconditionally.

Usually, I can just give, and in fact, enjoy giving.

I am afraid I'm getting worn out. And, I'm  not sure why.

Anyway, for some reason I like this song, although the lyrics aren't the easiest to understand. And I guess it fits today.

Back in the day.

Excuse the poorly created title.

But, I realize that sometimes I come off as rude. Or crass, or obnoxious or just too silly to ever be taken seriously. And I've been thinking a lot about this lately.

When I was about 15 I took a French II class. This was probably one of the easiest classes I've ever ever ever taken. The teacher, for the final, basically handed us out a copy to practice with and had TONS of extra credit. How much?

Well, I finished that class with over 200%. So. A lot. 

After the final was taken, and handed back and we were pretty much just wasting days until summer. I had gotten over 100% on both of the finals she had handed out and pretty much was chillaxing. Then, one day, she called me out of her classroom.

I automatically thought I was in deep trouble. I hadn't done anything wrong. Honestly, in high school I was probably one of the cleanest kids you'd ever met. BUT whenever I was called down to the office, or called out of class, or had a teacher who wanted to speak with me, I ALWAYS assumed it was bad. That somehow, they had caught me doing something wrong, even if I hadn't at all. 

So anyway, she called me out and looks at me and says "Sam, you are so smart. But you act SO stupid! Why is that?"

And I did not have an answer for her. I think I told her something like it's just more fun that way or something and she told me something like don't be afraid to show your intelligence or something and sent me on my way.

Usually, about this time in the story, you'd think to hear something like "And then I realized that I didn't have to be funny for everyone to like me, I could be smart too." BUT ACTUALLY, I was pissed. I have set up my life so that I'd be able to have a great time, goofing off, clowning around, and still being able to get good grades and use my intelligence as needed. I was pretty much ok with this, and still am to be honest. I love that I can be silly. I love that I'm weird and approachable and absolutely willing to make a fool of myself. And then, when and if necessary, use whatever intelligence I might have, if any. 

This helps people to know the really important things to me. When I actually start being passionate and serious about something, it means much more. And most times people are pleasantly surprised to see that, and I love surprising people.

But I've also realized that the other 90% of the time, I probably appear very closed off to meaningful conversation, or actual relationships. And maybe this is something I need to change. 

So while I appreciate my goofy demeanor, learned from great characters such as "Bugs Bunny" or ya know... "Goofy", I do realize that it might be time for me to mature a little bit, and see that it's alright to be serious, even when first meeting people, as well. 

Lame? Maybe.

Here's to hoping I'm not just a sell out.