in the valley

By christa 12 October, 2006 best of loafe, vol 1, random

When is it safe to let go and when should you stay and fight? The eternal battle. Holding on. I do it too much.

I’m very good at it. I’m an expert. I’m not a packrat, I’m a memory keeper. I have boxes of nostalgia, everywhere in my life. everywhere in my head.

I stand between two peaks, both calling to me, whispering their secrets.

One is history. Somewhere to belong. Connection. Home is here.

The other–living in the moment, unencumbered, unburdened. Home is everywhere.

What’s worth keeping and what’s worth throwing away?

Burn everything. Once it’s gone, you can’t get it back. I need this lesson. I need this understanding to dawn. I am too tangled. dusty cobwebs. Burn the letters, the pictures, the stories, the past. Burn it or bury yourself. It’s a choice.

The struggle though. What is going too far and what is not far enough?

Everything. Nothing. Either. Or. The in between is killing me.

Burn the bad. Burn the good. What’s the difference?

Him = good.

Them = bad.

my childhood = good.

my childhood = bad.

love here.
love gone.

holding on
letting go

history.
now.

see? you can’t distinguish.

It’s all fleeting. A flash. A wink. A breeze.

I just want to feel secure. It’s all I know. It’s me. It’s made me me. Even the bad–it’s me. the sun needs his moon. the moon needs her ocean. the ocean needs its sky.

If I burn it now, I can’t find it again someday, when I’m 300 years old. I won’t be able to find it and smile and remember. oh that memory. The greatest sadness ever there was.

torn between two lovers feeling like a fool.

There is no Now without History.

Forget. Remember.

It’s a choice.

I’ve been making the wrong one?

Save Ry’s history.

Burn mine?

I’ll stand in this valley and never make a choice, because I’ll never get it right.

time to make dinner, eh?

sleeping is giving in.

By christa 3 October, 2006 random

awww shucks, aren’t you just loving the nobel prize winners for physics? aren’t you, aren’t you? I feel very patriotic about it all. speaking of patriotic…I hate america as much as the next guy, but enough already, jeez. Not everything and everyone in the US sucks. Besides, hating us is so 2004.

in sadder news, chococat, aka the fake fargo, was put to sleep yesterday in Tucson. he was very ill. poor poor kitty.

for those of you not in the know, I’ll give a quick recap of how fake fargo came to be. once upon a time, I had a black cat named fargo. I went away on vacation and left my roommate in charge of fargo. she managed to lose fargo. I returned from vacation early and searched desperately until I found fargo. despite his odd, very unfargo like behavior, I was positive it was fargo.

About two months after all this, I found another black cat sitting on my sidewalk. He was very kind and sweet and friendly. When opened my front door, he ran inside and up the stairs, planting himself directly in front of my closed bedroom door. I realized that this new black cat was in fact the original, tried-and-true fargo and the other black cat I found two months ago was an imposter fargo, some stray I pulled off the streets and forced to be mine. How I mixed up the two is a question for the ages, they are both black cats, but outside of that they look nothing alike. So, that’s how I ended up with two cats, one real fargo one fake fargo. Now there’s just real fargo.

That doesn’t sound like a quick recap, but believe me, it was.

It seems stupid to feel bad when pets die, but what can you do. I’m glad it wasn’t fargo though. chococat was a bit of a bastard as far as cats go.

anyway. anyway.

anyway, she said.

leaving loafe?

By christa 3 October, 2006 random

lately I haven’t been all that invested in this site. duh. There is no real reason why, and it isn’t like I have been dedicating all my writing to my super secret site, because I haven’t. No private handwritten journal either. I guess I just don’t have much to share these days. I’m pretty wrapped up in boring house nonsense, taking care of Ryland and just trying to get stuff done.

I’m always coming up with great ideas to write about, but I’m usually not at home, or about to fall asleep, or just too lazy to find my way to a pen or a keyboard, and then I eventually forget. Maybe I should try one of those digital recorders. But I can’t imagine I’d be any more inclined to pull that out and talk into and then later on listen to it and figure out just what the hell I’m trying to say and put it down on paper/computer. Mostly I wish I had something linked into my brain, something wireless obviously, that would record my thoughts, and upload it to the computer and then when I have time I could sit down and read it over and go from there. Maybe someday.

Ryland is totally not taking his nap right now, just banging around in his bed and singing. He better go to sleep or I’m going to punish him severely.

please. I’m kidding. ryland has complete and total control of this household, the rotten bastard.