Silence.

I talk a mile a minute. I am never at a loss for words.
I stumble on my words as they fall out of my mouth faster than my brain can process them.
But at the end of the day, I say what has to be said.
I have no fear of saying what's on my mind.
I never lack in the capability to articulate.

But you know that look that people give you when there's something you're supposed to say?
The one that says, please say that thing I've been waiting for you to hear?
Yeah, I got that look.
For the first time ever, I was speechless.
My ability to articulate was no longer existent.
My thoughts flew at the speed of sound into a black hole.
No words could convey my infinite thoughts as I processed the situation.

If you looked in my eyes you'd see that I have so many things to say, just no way to articulate it.
If you let the silence speak, it said it all.

Why do I need to articulate it?
Why do we rely on finite amounts of words?
Do those words ever fully explain the things we mean?
Are there enough words in the finite system to allow for the explanation of infinite emotions?
Why do we rely on these finite words for everything?

Maybe the cliche of silence is golden is really true.
Maybe the absence of an articulation conveys more than finite arrangements of letters with arbitrary meanings.
Maybe it's what between the lines that counts.

Imply in the silence the words you want to hear.
Let your eyes show the infinite emotions.
Contemplate which finite word appears appropriate.
Juxtapose it all, and you'll realize that words matter, but the silence says more.

I have infinite thoughts, but no way to say them that says what it needs to.
As long as the silence says it all....

Red.

For those of you that are not religious, do not be put off that the inspiration of this post comes from a church sermon. Just hear me out....

At church today, we discussed the Christmas colors, but we focused on the color red. The pastor focused on this analogy of the red card in soccer. The red card means game over, you're out. As it is the holiday season, there's always going to be that one person you want to red card and kick out. Beyond the holidays, there's always that one person that you want to red card due to a horrible past experience.

But what about this idea - You have heard it said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.

What if the red card was no longer a way to kick people out, but rather a card you pull to show them unconditional love? What if every time you wanted to red card someone, you loved them instead? There's always going to be that one person you want to punch in the face. There's always going to be that person that broke your heart. There's always going to be a list of exceptions that will make you want to hate that person. This hate drives you toward anger and vengeance that ruins everything else about your life.

Let me clarify, I'm not writing this as a way to condescend others for their anger and emotions based on other people's past actions. Rather, I'm writing this in a state of personal reflection and epiphany. I have that one person just like everyone else where often all I feel toward them is anger and a desire to pull the red card. But today after pondering this I realized something more about myself.

You can hurt me all you want, but at the core of me, I will always be that person that who will be there to help you in your time of need. I will never red card you, no matter how angry or hurt I may be. This has been a long process for me to accept this truth about who I am. It's a difficult way to be, as I can often care too much and it backfires. It's also not easy to care. The majority of the time, it is way easier to not care. It's also way easier to be angry. But after a while it becomes an exhausting experience to be angry and to not care.

You can stay angry and not care, but I tend to wonder... What if everyone could let go and drop their red card? What if everyone spent more time loving their enemies than their neighbors? By no means is this an easy task. I speak from personal experience when I say it is far more difficult to care than to not care. I also firmly believe, religious or not, that everyone should drop their red card and love.

This isn't just a holiday thing. This is forever. No one ever deserves to be walked out on. No one deserves a red card. Let the time and effort you spend on loving your neighbors be only a portion of the love you show to those who have wronged you. Let the moments when you want to pull the red card be the moments you show the most love.

Red.

On Self-Exploration....

People always say that college is the time to explore and find yourself. A lot of times, this concept takes place in the form of self destruction. Excessive alcohol, drugs and partying. Destructive friendships and relationships. Poor academic performance. You name it, you destruct it, it's all apart of the process. As I sit and reflect on my first semester, I realized I may have found myself, but not in the way I wanted to. I have not gone through the typical self destructive behavior, but through all of the massive changes and exploration, I have found myself. I just don't know I like the state I found myself in...

See, I had this conversation tonight. Someone I care for basically said to me, I want to know your story, but I will never make you tell me. If you know me at all, you know I'm a horribly guarded person. I build my walls and I do not take them down unless necessary. With that said, if you know my story, you know I have good reason for my walls being built.

Let me get this straight, I don't like the walls I've built. I spend many a days wishing I could tear them down simply with a little poke where the walls fall and disintegrate into nothing. Rather, for me to take down my walls, it's like going at tons and tons of masonry with a toothpick. Tonight, I managed to poke all the way through the masonry to allow someone to see a peephole into my life. It's a peephole, but to me, it feels like a gaping hole in the ozone layer.

I admitted things I don't think I could regularly admit. Ask me? I'll never admit to anything. I will never admit I have a fear of commitment, that I am unable to trust people, that I am cynical (and for good reason), that I question that my drive will get in the way of my relationships, that I fully believe my dreams will leave me forever alone, and a multitude of other things that make me a mess of contradictions and doubt.

And tonight, I admitted to the intricacies that make me who I am. I don't know that I want to be as intricately layered as I am. I don't know that I want to be this complex and cynical. I'm not as depressed as this blog post makes me sound, but I want things to be different. For some reason, admitting to my life story out loud made me feel like I had found me. I had found the answers I had been looking for, and I had admitted life to myself. I just found me in a place where the earth is no longer below my feet. With that being said, after saying my life story, I expected a push back. A denial and negation. A departure. That the story is too much for any one person. Instead the answer was, I accept you, I understand you, and it's okay.

And that's the truth of the matter. It is okay. It is okay to explore and to be you in whatever broken and beautiful state you're in. Your intricacies are unique to you. It's not about who you become in the end. It's about the journey you take to get there. It's about the things you learn, and how you use them to help others. As for me? I've been exploring, but the abyss is dense and dark. I'll float into a new phase of my life where the walls fall away as the earth returns below my feet.

On to float through the abyss..

Finals....

With the doom of finals looming, life seems to be a black pit of despair. Finals are death. Cramming all of your knowledge into one week where you are forced to get up at arbitrary and early times based on University standards. All of this makes life seem like it's a lost cause in the last two weeks of the semester. With this being said, I can't help but contemplate the ridiculous amounts of change that are occurring as my first semester of college comes to a close.

I moved to Iowa City to go to school on August 16. It is almost four months later, and the ways that my life has changed are endless. In four months, I've packed up all my possessions to go to a university of 30,000 people where I knew only a handful upon my arrival. I said goodbye to all of my close friends who are attending various colleges across the country. I am attending the number two party school in the nation, despite my straight edge and conservative up bringing that leaves me clueless about everything. I left my life of music and theatre to study something I love (art history), while knowing that my education will be infinite for abysmal amounts of money. In order to try to earn more money, I decided to take a chance and earn two additional degrees in fields I have no experience in (studio arts and museum studies). I currently live in a 12x12 room with my favorite two-year old schizophrenic roommate. That's an adventure and a change in and of itself. Basically, my life in Iowa City has little relation to my life in Naperville.

With all of this said, I feel like in the last four months my life has become so much different, that my head is still spinning. I've dedicated to spend my life in an art library (which I love). I have a completely different group of friends in Iowa, whom I love dearly. And in a short matter of months, I will pack up my life and move to Iowa City permanently. And after that? I'll pick up and move to New York.

Wow. Four months. Change hits you like a flying rabid squirrel that jumped off a cliff and lands directly on your face. And all I can think is, I could not possibly be happier with the changes in my life. Sure, finals make me want to cry and cuddle with burritos. But if all I have to do is suffer through one week of finals in order to continue on this path of change where I pursue what I love?

I'll take it.

Iowa City/New York City, here I come.