I'm pretty sure


I hate my life

“Writing is a form of personal freedom. It frees us from the mass identity we see in the making all around us. In the end, writers will write not to be outlaw heroes of some underculture but mainly to save themselves, to survive as individuals.” - Don Delillo


Part I:

The air was crisp and cool in central park. A slight breeze caressed the tops of trees, and the moon beams danced eerily across the pillars and stairs. The fountain across the walkway let out a gentle drone, lulling any day roamers to sleep. It was the perfect night. A wonderful mix of nostalgia and mystery. Her brown hair fell neatly over her shoulders, in a cascade of wavy, once-was curls. Her big green eyes glistened in the dark as she scanned her surroundings. Suddenly, footsteps were heard descending the staircase. In one swift move, her tall, limber, body, was planted flat against the back of a giant marble pillar; Drowning her in shadow. Struggling to stay still and quiet, she craned her neck in order to hear what was going on. Almost instantly, everything seemed to change. The breeze had turned into an angry, howling, rage of air, and the moonlight played mind games upon the walls. It was as if these two men, who in ten quick steps, sent the world into a spiral of hate.

In a loud, booming voice, the first man sneered "You don't know what you're doing. If you continue to stick your nose where it doesn't belong, you're going to get into serious trouble."

In a voice that seemed far too high to belong to anyone over the age of 14, the second man replied "You've always taught, seek and you shall find, ask and you shall receive. Why preach what you do not practice?"

Slightly more agitated, the man answered "Do not undermine me! I am your authority and you shall treat me as such. There are dire consequences for rebels like you, dear Kristoph. I'd watch what you do and who you cross."

With that, the two men began to ascend the staircase. When she was absolutely sure they were nowhere near, she slowly retreated from the shadows. She took in a deep breath, and slowly let it out, as if to calm her nerves. As she headed to the staircase, herself, she noticed something glisten on the ground. Kneeling down, she scooped up the little piece of metallic interest. Slowly and carefully, she turned it around and inspected every inch of it. The symbol on the charm were that of something she'd never seen before. After a few moments, she shoved it into her pockets, and began to walk towards the subway station, breaking into a job, then a run.

Sprinting down the stairs, taking them three at a time, Icel came to a halt, just before slamming into two men awaiting the train.]

Man 1: [With a sinister smile, the man sneered at Icel] Well, well. Where are you off too in such a hurry?

Panic stricken and out of breath, she stammers "I...I... The... I'm late. It's past my curfew, I really must be going!" She took off, walking faster and faster as she got further away from the men. Not moments later, she heard the shwooshing of the brakes on the subway train; Filling her ears with the sound of wanted retirement, and wear. The doors slid open, revealing a lonely, decrepit shell of a once-was car. Graffiti scoured the walls in a creative, song of color. Icel plopped down in the closest seat to the door, and let out a sigh. As the subway crept forward, she let herself relax, leaning her head back against the window and closing her eyes. Behind her eyeslids, light flashed by, spiraling her into a mesmeric trance. Thoughts began to flood her mind.

The subway car screeched in elderly pain, as it pulled into the dark subway station. The few lights cast an eerie yellow glow around the terminal, leaving Icel with chills as she stepped out of her car. After a few glances around, she began to swiftly and quickly head towards the stairs. She emerged from the dungeons of modern day transportation, into the bustling streets of East Village. Artists, actors, dreamers, and broken hearts, wandered the streets; Oblivious to the dark secrets that the city really held. The crisp spring night air caught her by surprise, and she shoved her hands deep into her pockets. A moment later, she felt a pang. Her hand flew out of her pocket and straight for mouth. The blood danced on her lips, leaving behind a cool, metallic taste. Remembering the charm in her pocket, she disregarded the wound and pulled it out for further inspection. Standing there, beneath streetlights and neon signs, she carefully handled the item. Light played off each symbol, casting odd shapes upon the ground. The wonder, the mystery, it had taken her away from reality. *BAM* In an instant, Icel was on the ground, a grouchy homeless lady yelling obscenities at her. As the homeless woman hobbled away, she grabbed the charm off the pavement, clasped it tightly in her fist, and pushed her way home. Once she reached her building, she didn't hesitate to go inside. *Click* She locked her door, threw her hoodie over the arm chair, and set off for her room. She rooted around for a few moments, until she found what she'd been looking for. A green velvety box, lay in her palm. She open it, and laid the charm inside. After snapping it shut, she returned it to its original place and covered it with a handkerchief. Thoughts ran circles in her mind as she dressed for bed, and fell deep into a dreamless slumber.

PART II

The bright morning sun sent kisses of warmth across Icel's face. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open. The sounds of morning traffic, bus breaks, and incessant chatter filled her ears. She rolled over onto her back and stared at the ceiling, taking note of the way the it yellowed in the corners, the crack that ran along the east wall from too many years of life, the uneven way it rested upon it's four solid friends. After a few moments of getting lost in nothing, she pushed herself up and looked at the alarm clock. 9:13am. 9:14am. 9:15am. Such a lazy day this could. She shuffled herself over to her small kitchen and began to make herself a nice cup of chai. As she sipped at the warm, soothing, elixir, she headed to her desk and dialed an ever so familiar number. After a few droning rings a voice is heard on the other side.

"Seriously, Icel. Before noon? Why?"

"I have a mission for us. Meet me at Bamn in an hour!"

"Icel I'm not even dre-" The phone clicks and silence is heard.

Gracefully, Icel dances around her tiny studio apartment, gliding around furniture in an orbital dance. Singing cheerfully to the tune of nothing, she drifts about, sliding a white noodle strap dress over her slender, tan, body. She then elegantly pulled her cascading waves into a half pony, letting a few loose strands fall into her face. *RING* She came to a halt, pulled her phone out of her pocket, and answered.

"Hello?"

"Icel, where the hell are you? You said an hour!"

"I'm.." She paused for a second to think of an excuse. "..Almost there!"

"I'm sure you are. Get your butt over here."

She hung up, grabbed her messenger bag, and took off out the door, locking it behind her. Swiftly, she ran down the street, nearly running into an elderly lady. When she arrived at Bamn, she found Josh and began explaining the little charm and how she'd come to have it in her possession. She went into detail about the intricate lines and shapes upon it, and the way it could illuminate an entire area with one small flicker of light upon its surface. Josh told Icel about a friend of his who could maybe depict the designs and figure out its origin. In a fit of excitement, Icel kissed Josh on the cheek and skipped home to get it. She opened her door and gazed upon wreckage. Her belongings were strewn carelessly across the small one roomed apartment, leaving no room to walk. She hurdled over furniture and mess to her dresser. She opened the small drawer, shoved her undies to the side and slid up the false bottom. Much to her luck, the green box sat there, unscathed. When she turned around, Josh was standing behind her staring wide eyed. In a panic and worried about Icel's safety, he grabbed her hand and began to run. They ran down the street and through a jungle of concrete and steel. Dodging cars, pedestrians, and misplace foliage along the way. A total of about 14 blocks whizzed by before the duo ducked down into a subway station. They boarded the familiar old system that was the A train, and road to their destination. Forty five minutes, two screaming babies, and a ghetto blaster later, they arrived at their stop. The train pulled in, and they hopped off. They fled lightly out of the station, and pushed way to the surface. Hands still interlocked, they continued to run, almost as if they were flying. Finally, they came to a shady little shop in the heart of china town. *ding* the door creaked open, pushing a little silver clanky bell. From behind a worn old curtain, a man appeared.

"Josh! Well, well! What have you brought me today?" The aging man asked.

"Mr. Tokanaga, we need to know what this is." Josh gently pulled the green box out of his pocket, flipped it open, revealing the small, gleaming, piece of metallic.

With the smallest of glances, Mr. Tokanaga's eyes widen. Where did you get that?" He gasped.

"Icel found it. In Central Park. What is it?"

He looked around the dark, dank, and dusty shop, then leaned in very close and began to speak in almost a whisper. "It is a symbol of strength and power. A relic passed down from one generation to the next. Not much is known about those who hold the relic. Only that they are evil in every sense, and hold the power to destroy an entire city, should you cross them wrong. It's a secret organization composed of power hungry men and women. They call themselves the order." A look of fear sweeps its way over the shop keepers face. "You should leave."

Catering to Mr. Tokanaga's wishes, Josh and Icel slide out of the shop and onto the city streets. The sun had set, and hazy lights illuminated the still moving streets of China Town.

“There are seeds of self-destruction in all of us that will bear only unhappiness if allowed to grow.” -Dorothea Brande

As always, I've managed to break another promise. Shame and guilt have made way through my veins and into my heart. But despite these feelings, I can't help but push away the desire to change. I thought that I could change who I was. Well, a piece of who I was, rather, and I'm quickly learning that that is just not possible. What exactly is a person to do when mirrors play tricks and food taunts? When clothes strangle and strangers silently laugh? It is not a game; Not a cry for attention; But a beast. A beast that resides inside me. And when I'm most vulnerable... BAM! He strikes. Slowly stripping away flesh, piece by piece, skipped meal by skipped meal. Leaving a walking, breathing, talking, skeletal shell. A hollow impression of a woman that once saw daylight, but has been banished to darkness. A dark, lonely, road of self destruction. For what? Nothing. Nothing but an empty plate and a struggle.

“Contemplation often makes life miserable. We should act more, think less, and stop watching ourselves live.” - Chamfort

Sitting in silence for the past two hours, has done nothing but allow my mind to wander the deepest depths of my heart. Releasing emotions, feelings, memories, hopes, dreams, wishes, fears, despairs, and realities. To most, deep contemplation is a welcomed state; but for me, it's dreaded.

Over the past year, my life has taken a whirlwind move into chaos. I met someone who means the world to me, I embarked on a journey that I'd never imagined I'd make, I gave birth to the most amazing little boy, and I got the job of my dreams. Yet, it's all so minuscule. In retrospect, none of it changes how I feel. When looking at it on a small scale, without dissecting each event, it's all so perfect. But once it's cut into; when you're staring into the gaping hole of life, it's a complete mess.

Growing up, I knew that I didn't want to spend my life here. Forever trapped in rural Northern Colorado, among the ignorant and greedy. No. I was born to be free. Living among artists and dreamers, surrounded by diversity, in a world that is so fast paced, you only realize how quickly you're moving, when you lie your head down at night and try to recap your life. Tonight, stuck in a place I thought I'd never want to look back on, I realized why I so desperately wanted to let this part of my life go. Leave it here for the old and the heartless. When i chose to move back here and leave a place I loved, I thought I was making a rational, informed decision. When in actuality, it was a decision based upon fear and lack of self drive.

Last summer, I moved away. Three hundred miles of new life. It was amazing, to say the least. I had new friends, a new job, a new environment. Nothing was holding me back from what I wanted and where I wanted to be, like the restraints of home had held me back in the past, for so many years. I spent three wonderful months in bliss. Enjoying the life I'd finally found. The life, though not quite what I'd imagined, I knew that I wanted.

In mid-July, everything came to a screeching halt when two little lines appeared on the stick of doom. At that instant, my whole world came crashing down. Everything was ruined in one split second. I managed to avoid telling anybody, except one very special person, about my new found ailment. Both him and I knew that telling everyone would only lead to heartache and disappointment. We discussed options, and decided that we would take care of it before anybody found out our little [very big] secret. By the end of August, my body had already decided to try and give everything away. Our lives became a game of cat and mouse. I was in hiding from everyone; My family, his family, my best friends. Things were not going to be the same.

Sometime in late October, shortly after my birthday, I hit a breaking point. With nothing to look forward too but misery, I left work, packed up my car, and bid a special someone goodbye. As I drove out of town, I watched my life fade away into the horizon. A horizon of fading dreams, false hope, and broken lives. Tears rolled down my cheeks the entire ride home, as the reality of things finally set in.

When I got "home", I realized that I had nothing to come back too. My friends had moved on, my family was fantastic without me, and I had no place of my own to stay. I rented a tiny apartment for Quinn and I, and waited. Alone.

Partway through November, a bus brought an amazing person to me. He moved in, and though things were sketchy, it was perfect in my eyes. However, once Christmas time rolled around, I watched him board a plane and fly off into my horizon of broken dreams, without me. Days turned into weeks, and the pain of being alone continued to bear down on me. Finally, one very cold December morning, I hopped in my car and started driving West. Pushing on through a heavy, blinding blizzard, I made way towards him. When we were together again, it was bliss. Even my beautiful little mini me had the time of her life. But of course, like most good things, it eventually had to end, and I had to return home.

A few weeks passed, and January had delivered a lonely four days of winter. I anxiously drudged down to my car, filled with joy over getting him from the airport. I opened my car door, slipped in, and started up the car. That's when I noticed my stereo faceplate, broken and missing, and the contents of my glove box strewn across the seats and floor. I HATE GREELEY. With one big slam on my steering wheel, I drove to the airport. The day was amazing. It was 12 hours of happiness.

Months trudged by and days slipped away. Life became one endless set of hours. It was the same thing over and over for us. We both spent weeks on end searching for jobs. Hoping that something worthwhile would turn up. But, to no avail.

In March, an amazing phone call turned our outlook on the future around. A job offer! Of course it wasn't for me, but a job offer none the less! Following that offer, a second off came in. He took the first offer, as it paid a dollar more, and had far more desirable hours.We celebrated together.

Shortly before his new job were to start, we were crushed again when the car died. Weeks went by without a sign of hope in fixing the vehicle.

Early March hit hard. With him at his new job, and myself at home, I was lonely. Bored and lonely. It was only a matter of weeks, though, that he would be working from home. The first few shifts were difficult, as the car was still not working. Desperate to get it fixed, we ended up taking drastic measures, and letting a friend pay to get it fixed.

Somewhere in the midst of getting the car fixed, his new job, and incessant money issues, our son was born. I thought for sure, that his birth would make me a little bit happier. Boy, was I wrong.

Ever since the moment I laid eyes on my little boy, things have been downhill emotionally for me. Spiraling downward, a little darker with each passing day. I love my son. There's no question about that. But with every whimper, whine, and cry, I find myself wishing things that should never even cross my mind.

Finally, a few weeks after his birth, I managed to pick up the job of my dreams. Assistant Director of Aiming Highest Performing Arts Centre. I was more than excited. For a month, I worked my butt off, preparing her center for summer classes. But, as always, disappointment set in. A month and a half passed, and I'd yet to be paid. To this day, I'm still lacking in a pay check. It's nothing but excuse after pathetic excuse.

Ontop of that, money and emotions are causing a great deal of stress on my relationship. Motivation is hard to come by these days, and my opinion of myself is forever diminishing.

After rolling the events of the last twelve months around in my head for three solid hours, I've come to realize that my life is a continual descent downwards; Only made worse by my poor choices and poor planning. When compared to the events currently in my life, I can honestly say that things are not improving. In fact, they're getting worse. As soon as something promising leaps out at me, it removes its mask and pushes me down.

If it wasn't for a bold step west, I'd have never have had the experiences that lie on my shoulders now. While I admit that they may not be the greatest steps I've taken, I've made leaps and bounds to make them work; to succeed, and move on. If only half of those leaps and bounds left footprints. Then, maybe then, I'd be able to be happy.

"When mistrust comes in, love goes out." -Irish Proverbb

Straight answers seem to be something that I haven't been able to find, recently. It was getting to the point where I was losing the little bit of patience I had left; the small thread that was binding me to thoughts of a better future, was the same thread that was pulling me into an abyss of loneliness and driving me to a point of insanity. Tonight, however, I was drawn to my senses, and inclined to finally give my mind a rest, no matter how short that rest may be. The outcome of my choice tonight, filled me with nothing but appreciation for a close friend and the ability to finally say what I have been holding back for so long. I was given the confirmation of my worst fears and my suspicions were laid to rest. The things a person can learn from simply asking is astounding.

Though my answers were found, I'm still stuck in a state of limbo. The lies that I've been handed within the past few months, are almost unbearable. It's one thing to do wrong, but to lie about the wrong doing, is far worse. I'm not perfect, nor have I always made the right choices, but when asked about them, I at least have had the decency to tell the truth. I'm smarter than I was given credit for. I've felt like I've read the plot summary to a play I'm not fond of, and now, I'm being forced to sit through the entire show. I already know what's going on, there's no point in staying for the second act.

On a final note, I've come to realize who my true friends are, these past few months; And, consequently, I'm left feeling more alone than ever. But rest assured, those that are left standing by my side, are more than appreciated, and will forever have me here, no matter the reason I am needed.

“I want to be very close to someone I respect and admire and have somebody who feels the same way about me.” -Richard Bach

This was originally a bulletin I read on myspace, posted by my twelve year old niece. I was very surprised after reading this, just how true most of this list is.

*When she walks away from you mad, follow her.
*When she stares at your lips, Kiss her.
*When she pushes you or hits you, Grab her and don’t let go.
*When she starts cursing at you, Kiss her and tell her you love her.
*When she's quiet, ask her what’s wrong.
*When she ignores you, Give her your attention.
*When she pulls away, pull her back.
*When you see her at her worst, tell her she's beautiful.
*When you see her start crying, just hold her and don’t say a word.
*When you see her walking, sneak up and hug her waist from behind.
*When she's scared, protect her.
*When she lays her head on your shoulder, tilt her head up and kiss her.
*When she steals your favorite hat, let her keep it and sleep with it for a night.
*When she teases you, tease her back and make her laugh.
*When she doesn’t answer for a long time, reassure her that everything is alright.
*When she looks at you with doubt, back yourself up with the TRUTH.
*When she says that she likes you, she means it in a way that goes far beyond anything you could understand.
*When she grabs at your hands, hold hers and play with her fingers.
*When she bumps into you, bump into her back and make her laugh.
*When she tells you a secret, keep it safe and untold.
*When she looks at you in your eyes, don’t look away until she does.
*When she misses you, she's hurting inside.
*When you break her heart, the pain NEVER really goes away.
*When she says its over, she STILL wants you to be hers.
*When she repost this bulletin, she wants you to read it.
*Stay on the phone with her even if she’s not saying anything.
*Don't let her have the last word.
*Never call her hot. Pretty and beautiful are so much better.
*Tell her that you love her more than she could ever love youl
*Argue that she is the best girl ever
*When she's mad hug her tight and don't let go
*When she says she's 'fine' don’t believe it, talk with her.
*Wake her up at 12:00am on her birthday to tell her you love her.
*Kiss her before you sleep and after you wake up.
*Treat her like she's all that matters.
*Tease her and let her tease you back.
*Stay up all night with her when she's sick.
*Watch her favorite movie with her, even if you think it's stupid.
*Give her the world.
*Let her wear your clothes.
*When she's bored, hang out with her
*Let her know she's important
*Kiss her in the pouring rain
*When she runs up to you crying, the first thing you should say is;
"Who's ass am I kicking today baby?"

"Conscience is the inner voice that warns us somebody may be looking.” -Henry Louis Mencken

**GONE GONE GONE**