I made a new & entirely different kind of blog.

Check it out: http://kristineclaghorn.blogspot.com/

Doing this and that, just keeping my mind busy. My mind is numb and my feet are asleep. The beads of sweat are beginning to blend in with the tears racing down my cheeks and my fingers are rubbing shapes underneath my eyes. I'm pinching my arms to wake myself up from this dull dream, but I'm not even asleep. I'm just staring into the distance and all I can feel are hunger pangs, but I feel nothing for anyone and I feel nothing for myself. I keep trying to sing, but my voice keeps trailing off. I long to walk barefoot for miles and miles up the Rio Grande, skipping stones and humming to myself without a care in the world. I felt independent and warm. My days consisted of laughing and learning and never wanting to leave where I was. Every time I return, I feel even more lost in a place whose map I could trace on the back of my hand by memory. I can't wait to scrape up just enough money to leave again, come back, and repeat.

constantly missing, searching, finding, losing, needing, wanting, loving, hurting

it's the strange combinations of images that come to us in dreams
the songs that pull at our heartstrings
that one person that makes our hearts beat with resonance
with both harmony and dissonance
it's knowing that a broken heart is only temporary,
only if you want it to be
it's listening to dead silence
and hearing lively sounds

how delightfully terrifying life can be. it's a series of choices and you have to remind yourself over and over again that life is only going to be as good as you make it. i've been stuck in this rut of pessimism for far too long. i woke up this morning with a feeling of unknowingness, i do not know who i have become. i'm ready not to go back to the way i was before, but to get back on the right track, living and enjoying every ounce of what's around me. i've been spending far too much time thinking about what's just out of grasp, beating myself up because i'm not as smart, or as beautiful, but that's just it, there's no reason for me to compare myself to others when no one person is comparable to another. i woke up and looked at myself in the mirror and smiled. my back has been killing me all day, but i can still walk. i can still sing. i have to be thankful for what i can do instead of what i can't.

i know this is completely different than most of my posts, but this is more or less for my own reasons. it's not meant to be beautiful or poetic. it's just the externalization of my current thoughts.

freckled skin tightly wrapping itself over aching bones to frozen fingers and toes, clenched to unclenched. tired eyes holding back a collection of thoughts, unorganized. lips locked lips, locked silence & talking, talking, talking, but never really talking. i long to feel volumes, happiness in misplaced time.

waking up to a startling alarm, to running late, to running, to heavy breathing, to eating rice for every meal, to empty wallets becoming even barer, to typing, typing, typing tedious papers about lackluster topics. walking with hands intertwined, to a cup of tea (maybe two), to kisses & endless laughter, to music resonating within, to heartbeats as a metronome, to skin stretched over & across bones like some sort of canvas. to thinking, thinking, thinking about nothing in particular, to heavy breathing, to tears, to sleep.