Dreamstate

Don’t be upset, you are loved! The world means nothing, it never really has, and I doubt it ever really will. If we live in a dream state, shall we not dream of those we love? The only nightmare comes from within- we create it, water it and nurture it. Nightmares are so much easier to care for. So easy, so promising, so utterly caustic. Surrounding us with down pillows and a warm cup of tea, they whisper promises that they never intend to keep. A warm bed, success, financial security but never love. Have you ever seen someone you loved happy in a nightmare? Neither have I. Many die horrid deaths, eaten by terrible monsters or ripped apart by a storm.

Funny how man lives his own nightmare. It’s so comfortable at first, but never in the end. If none of this truly matters then, why not dream a happy dream?

No, they do not promise riches in gold or silver- something far more beautiful than that. The warm smile of a passerby, or a hug from a long lost relative. The joy of a family gathering, boisterous laughter. The happiest ever afters never focus on the castle, or the barrels of gold but always a life shared together. Always the unbroken bonds forged by tears, giggles, and sweat. The best dreams may not always be the easiest, but they always end the best. Someday we will all wake up, I just hope I dreamt the right dream.

Raymond Folstad speaks

I guess, well, I guess I don’t know. I’m really exhausted, and pretty numb. I have so much to say but I don’t have the oomph to speak aloud. Writing works. It always has. Thank goodness for my blog, and thank goodness I can write whatever I feel like. So tonight, lady, whoever you are, thank you for making me cry. You are so mean. Please find a different job that doesn’t require compassion or patience. Thank you.

Anyway, Wedding planning is going so-so. I am the epitome of budget bride and I am incredibly grateful that family and friends have been so willing to donate stuff and help. Bonus when you are broke.

I finally decided to go back to plan A. Married in a church, reception in a coffee shop. Works for me. In all honesty, weddings don’t really excite me that much. Maybe it’s the drugs speaking here, I don’t know, but I just can’t seem to get my act together. I’ve got sooooo much to do, none of which I actually want to, and only a month to do it. Can I do it? Ya. Do I want to? Absolutely not.

I don’t feel much like myself at all. Sadly, I want nothing to do with the people I care about the most. I feel like somebody pressed the uptight, no affection button. I keep putting off the vibe that I just want to be left alone, but in reality, I rarely ever want to be left alone. I wish somebody understood that. And the funny thing is, I keep telling myself that maybe it’s true, maybe I, and everyone else, would be better off if I just disappeared one day. Oh well.

Stuck in a hat box

You ever have one of those days where you are completely uninterested in everything? One of those days when Skynet hacks your brain and you do menial tasks over and over for hours and hours without really thinking about what you are actually doing? Yep, I’m having one of those days. I don’t feel so much as depressed, just, well, caged. I desperately want to fly free, but there is a Siamese, a Tabby, and a Calico all looking right at me.  Circumstance, Fate, and Prozac make for shoddy companions if you ask me.

I want so desperately to be liberated- from what, I’m not quite sure. I had someone tell me that on the outside, my life is pretty perfect. I agree, it is. But I wonder how much of it is just a product of caution. I’m so careful, I follow the rules, I do my homework, I say please and thank you, and I smile at people who make me pissy. (Le gasp, I swore!) I just want to do something completely unordinary, something so out of my comfort zone, something that will make me grow. Granted, this whole depression/loneliness experience has made me grow, but now I feel like I’m stagnating. I want to have an adventure! I’m not talking driving down 95 with half of my torso out the sunroof, pleasantly telling everyone they are number one while I navigate with my feet. No. I’m talking about getting lost in a forest for a couple of hours, or going to a town I’ve never been to and looking for oddball stores. I want to paint! I want to draw! I want to liberate myself from where I am.

I’m so worn out from college. I’m almost ashamed to say it, but I am so done with it right now. I’ve been in it for three? four? years now? INCLUDING summer. Gag. I’m tired of being pressed by deadlines, walking to and from class in a cloud of cigarette smoke- ugh, I’m just trashed from so much school. Don’t get me wrong, I love learning. I LOVE IT! But, I almost feel ashamed to say, at this moment, it’s not what I want. (Le Gasp again).

While I visited my grandparents I had the pleasure of going to many, many, buffets. Understand that I don’t like eating out. I find it wasteful, expensive, and impersonal. Yes, I can crack open a can of garbanzo beans for about 50 cents and get the same pleasure, except I can eat them right out of the can. More fun. Anyway, I watched countless people, almost all old, sitting with plates piled high in complete silence. Now, I could be completely wrong when I say this (for all I know they could simply be contemplating the molecular structure of the brown stuff that ladled on their plate a minute ago) but none of them looked happy. In truth, many looked really unhealthy, and with a morose look on their faces, I quietly wondered if they were looking back on their best years, regretting everything they didn’t do because they were too busy, tired, or caught up in life.  It brought me back to the eternal question, “Why do we do the things we do?”

It seems like we as humans have become automated, simply existing, not living. We do what we are told, we are programmed to adore the material and do everything to achieve it. It’s the same song and dance that people have been preaching for ages. You see, I am horribly ashamed right now and I ought not to be. More than anything, I want to be an artist and a baker, freelance of course. I want to work from home, hold down the fort and make sure my future husband has a warm meal to come home to. I want to hold countless get togethers with friends, go to Church on Sunday mornings, walk along the coast and taste the tangy ocean currents in the air.  I want to explore the deepest recesses of forests in the morning, and scour thrift and antique stores for hours. I want to be in a continual state of peace that Philippians always talks about. Maybe I’m just fantasizing. Go ahead; tell me life isn’t like that. But why? Why isn’t it? Why can’t it be? The things I want most in life don’t cost hardly a penny, and yet I feel guilty for wanting them.

I always felt like I HAD to go get a bachelors, I HAD to find a good nine to five career, I HAD to have a good salary, I HAD. HAVE. BUT I DON’T want these things. I want nothing to do with them. The very thing I hate is the very thing that enslaves me. Material gain- why must I feel the need to strive for it? I’m so sick of it. The life that everyone else is leading is not for me. My journey is different. I think it’s long time coming I accepted this fact. Right now, I just feel like I am tied to Coeur d’ Alene. I want to finally get my chance to blossom.

This picture pretty much sums it up. I don't care if it's idealistic, this is what I aspire to be.

cheap or practical

At this point, I seriously just want to elope. I mean really. I am so overwhelmed by all of this wedding hoopla business that I just want to *scream* I am on the verge of developing a Spongebob sailor mouth. In all honesty, wouldn’t it be romantic to steal away to a small church and only have a few family members witness the joining of lives? Then run off to a local coffee shop and have a coffee reception? It’s just that people spend SO MUCH MONEY on ONE DAY. It doesn’t matter. You can spend 100 or 100,000 dollars, but at the end of the day, you’re still married.

            Everyone keeps telling me “It’s all up to you Briana!” *Cries* I hate pressure. I’m such a people pleaser and I can’t make up my mind. Will I regret it if I don’t go to the White House? Everything is so uncertain that I’m not even sure how many people can come. Is renting the White House justifiable? I mean, really, is it? Beautiful, yes. Predecorated, yes. Affordable? My mom says it is, but when she panics about something she gets this unavoidable look in her eyes. They widen a little bit. Nice try mom.

            And I really am going at this alone. HBM is not helping, and I don’t expect him to, but a little input would be nice. I miss him not being here. I guess wedding planning is supposed to be a bonding time. It’s a stress out time for me. Secretly, I still want to rent out Calypso’s. HBM and I spent so much time there together and it means so much to the both of us. It would be perfect, it really would be. I don’t think a lot of people will be able to make my wedding due to the uncertainty, I HATE BIG UNECESSARY EXPENSES, and I really just want something intimate. It’s an artsy eclectic place, the coffee is wonderful, and it’s conducive to warm chatter, strummed guitars, and cozy laughter. I think I just sold myself. J