Word of the Day: Revamp.

Since revamping one's life takes an excruciatingly painful amount of time, not to mention the obvious (wanting to revamp an entire life is borderline depressing), I have decided to take the more subtle approach, and just stick with revamping my blog; a makeover, if you will.
Enjoy. :)

Mis(ery)souri Can't Have My Strength

Hello... back so soon? Why yes, yes I am. See what I mean about living at the mercy of your emotions? I'm a victim.
After a couple days of literally and metaphorically sitting on the floor feeling sorry for myself, not being able to move, I've been overtaken. Sometimes we, as humans become overcome with sadness or frustrations to the point where all that's left is weakness. Weakness isn't such a terrible thing either though. It's painful, for sure, but necessary as well. Without weakness, we couldn't have strength.. and what a terrible thought to think of the world without strength.
Anyway, back to the floor of my closet.. where we last left off. You know that phrase that optimists and pessimists alike everywhere love?.. something like, "You have to hit rock bottom before you can go up". Sometimes I can't quite wrap my head around that. What exactly is rock bottom? Can you be at the bottom more than once? It some ways, it just seems like a dirty trick, in the way that is makes people believe rock bottom is that one time in your life where everything's gone to shit. And you can only have one rock bottom... so choose it wisely.
How ridiculous.
I sat on the floor, and staring back into my tear-filled eyes was strength. Call it a higher power, God, the other version of myself I fight with much too often, or even Mother Nature tending to a lost soul. Call it what you will.. it got me off of the floor.
Sometimes, you have to step outside of yourself in order to get the full view of your reflection. I am a human, a woman, queen to only myself. I make the rules. That being said, I have reserved the right to feel completely and utterly sorry for myself. Sometimes it's necessary to see, feel, even adapt to the weakness that creeps up, and overcomes you when life is far too unfair, and unfit for this queen.
I'm not sure if I've hit rock bottom. It feels more like I give in to my screaming emotions before I touch down. Maybe I float? Bounce? Whatever it is, I certainly don't, and won't let myself sit there for long.
Back to my journey... back to my throne.

From Cradle To Cave

They call people who do their best work late at night, or in my case in the wee hours of the morning, night owls.. but I'm beginning to think frivolous work in the darkness stems from lights being turned on internally. As I sit preparing to unleash the inner torment inside my brain, I'm staring down at my freshly painted fingernails. It's strange to think that just a few hours ago I was curled up on the floor of my closet wallowing in the tears of self pity and pure anger. .. Maybe that has something to do with the black coloring of the polish, or even the Sharpie tattooed smiley face staring back at me that I drew since my best friend isn't here to remind me to turn the corners of my lips up occasionally.
Alright, enough of the pathetic wallowing. Let's move on to something far more beautiful than waterfalls pouring out of angry eyes, and definitely more powerful than a lump of human on the floor. I'm talking about the Rocky Mountains, of course. I left Thursday evening with my trusty suitcase, not bothering to make sure I had every last thing packed... why worry about such minor details when flying to Colorado? I did all the things I normally do in Colorado, which consisted of trying to squeeze as many new adventures in during such a short amount of time. I caught up on my education in a museum, got my culture exploration done strolling the streets of Boulder, and even managed to reunite with the mountains on a hike. After enjoying a night with friends downtown, it was time to drag myself back "home", literally driving away from the most beautiful scenery imaginable.
Now, I know what you're thinking, so I'll go ahead and address the over dramatic tone in my words.
It's hard for me to write or even talk about Colorado in a way that isn't magical. Colorado is my home... if home truly is where the heart is. I can't compare it, or dumb it down in any way to make it sound like some mere vacation to get away from work, school, the mundane lifestyle of humidity and mosquitoes, or what have you. Colorado is my dream, my happiness, my peace. I wear it every day.. not like wearing struggles, or pain on your sleeve; but around my neck right down to my fingers so I can be reminded of the beauty and simplicity of this dream. I write what I feel, and Colorado certainly brings out the most colorful emotions inside me, so I will continue to write, and talk, and feel about Colorado the same way a five year old feels at Disney World.
I was born in Missouri. I was raised in Missouri. But I will never appreciate Missouri, until I leave it. I dream of packing my bags, and leaving for the Rockies every day, but I can't be a dreamer forever. I don't want to be a dreamer forever. I live my life as though I have reality, and I have escape... being my dreams. When I escape, I am always being pulled back into reality, and lately I find myself scratching to stay in my dream.
I once asked a friend, "If you couldn't have something real, would you choose something meaningless over nothing at all?", to which he responded, "If it is meaningless, then it already is nothing". I'm not saying my life is nothing, or my memories here are nothing... I'm simply saying, my situation has become nothing anymore, and I won't live for nothing.
So for now, I'm writing my frustrations so I can wake up in the morning and go to work, to be able to pay off my debts, and hopefully save for my dream.. because I don't know if I can go back to Colorado, and have to leave it again.