From where it blends.

I'm not sure where I stand anymore between what had happened from September 'til now.

These first months of school sorta blended together in a manner that I can't even recall what day of the week or month it is, or for that matter, the distinction between a week and month.

In some ways, my life never changed, like my life after 2:15pm. I go straight to the choir room, do Cabaret rehearsals......maybe All-State practice.....or sometimes both.....and then have play rehearsals from 6-*8pm (it was 6-9pm last week.....) and then I do homework until I fall asleep. It's always been this way after the first weeks of school, and generically, since sophomore year if you consider the time slot I've stayed at school day after day.

But then, I look at how much everything has changed. The new people I've gotten close to, the responsibilities gained, being surrounded by the same people I've known who are in the midst of some transformation of themselves.....it makes me wonder what's better.....the time when everyone knew too little or how everyone knows too much?

There are times when I just stand where I am and look up.....thinking that all the answers are right above my head. And sometimes this strategy actually works. But for right now, more than ever, I've realized that all my answers aren't from what I think I need to do, but what's been in front of me every single day.

With each day passing.....it's taking so much out of myself to just get a grip. Not that life is too hard for me to handle....but it's controlling an amount of 'you' that longer feels agony to a phase which makes insanity appear normal; normal enough to make days mix in evenly and inseparately together.

What makes it hard to figure out is if this is a 'good' or 'bad' thing. And then I figured it's a 'Ressa' thing. So, is Ressa feeling good? Bad? Well, at the end of the day, I feel unstoppable. It's hard to tell what I do feel during a day. It's unexplained in words, yet shown more with actions from a thoughtless nature inside of me.

I see people blending paint to draw a picture, my father stirring up cream in his coffee before his long day at work, words turning into mumbles from friends conversing at an end of a hallway, and a leaf turning red for fall. It's finished when the drawing is done, when the coffee is slurpped down his throat, when talking is no longer important, and when the leaf falls off a tree.

This heart of mine can't be stopped that easily. It's growing, rather than fading, and it mingles into a gentle soul. It wants to move the earth, hold the sun, and challenge the moon to stop her before day ends. Because although I blend, I live.

And living takes more than breathing...