my new baby..

So.. this post is unusually simple and lacking in my typically prominent intellectual ideas..
In fact.. it is completely devoid of any intellectual ideas..
Its entirely about my new kitten, Esme.
I rescued her from the animal shelter here in Abilene for $70... and, though she is currently attacking me, she is absolutely adorable and I love her dearly.
I actually adopted her about a month ago, so she is slightly bigger now than she was then..
but, here we are..

Blogging world, meet Esme:

Esme, meet the blogging world.

More intellectually stimulating posts to come your way soon,
I hope.


Have a glorious day.

Brit

Currently Listening: River Flows Through You - Yiruma.
Current Mood: Optimistic.

Yesterday I entered my bedroom entranced by the smell of fall-inspired candle scents; one of my favorites.
I haven't bothered to make my bed in over a week, there's a small pile of clothes on the back of my chair I've yet to hang back up, and my newly washed clothes lay in a basket at the foot of my bed.
Jewelry lays out on my desk, my purses carefully disregarded on the window ledge and the dresser.
My bedside table is a conglomerate of empty water bottles, aspirin, books, magazines and my laptop.
This sounds like a train wreck, to some people [my mother and sister included] it would be.
Ask me where anything is, I can tell you. I know where each and every minute piece of my daily routine lies amidst of the chaos. Nothing is lost, merely placed aside until it is deemed necessary for my current needs.
My ipod is in the Marc Jacobs bag, two pair of sunglasses are in my Louis, the other pair as well as my reading glasses are in the former.
My current personal interest novel is on my bedside, the ones for class sprawled across my window sill.
Keys; See Marc Jacobs bag.
Planner; see school bag.
Shorts from Saturday night; see clothes basket.
Shoes; see closet/bedside/computer desk.

You say chaos; I say control.
This, is my life.
Up until yesterday I had convinced myself that the chaos was a part of my life I needed to get away from. My life was out of control, and I had no means of stopping it. I hated it. I wanted change. Needed something new to remove me from this uncontrolled emotional turmoil of the everyday.
I wanted help. I couldn't do this on my own. I could no longer control my life. And I hated it.

Yesterday I entered my room entranced by the smell of fall-inspired candles, and chaos.
And I loved it.
Of course I'm not in control of my life. No one is ever in control of their own life. Life is meant to throw us curves we cannot expect or interpret. This is how we grow.
Before yesterday I had stopped growing. I was trying to control the here and now. Not bending to meet the curves head on, but allowing them to wrap me up so tightly I couldn't move.
I lived in the past. Groped for the past. Longing to obtain some lost feeling or experience.
Yesterday, I moved on.
Today, I am growing.
Tomorrow, I'll do the same.

My life is chaos. Fueled by uncertainty and ignorance of the things to come.
But, now, I'm ready for them.
Bring on the pain, the happiness, the heartache, the love.
Bring on the loss, the gain, the beginning of new and ending of old.

I'm ready.

..and i was under the impression that murder was unlawful.

How do I even begin to explain the combination of fury, disbelief and despair i felt upon watching this video? Normally when I feel compelled to write I don't even need to think. My emotions control the keyboard, the flow of words and the meaning behind them. But, right now, I'm in shock. I'm infuriated. I'm incredulous. The desperation is overflowing as I search for some means of reconciliation as to why anyone of sound heart and mind could be so cruel as to murder, with good conscience, a helpless infant.
This video is revolting. It sickens me to my very core. My body cries out in pain as the pressure in my chest increases. My mind is frozen, searching desperately for a reason why such a cruel abomination of God's will is not considered by our government to be unjust.
More disturbing still, how any living person with the consciousness of family- a mother, father, sister, brother, son or daughter, could actually contemplate electing this heartless monster to be ruler of the free world.




Where is the vindication in his malignancy for an infant's life? How can he justify wanting to save soldiers' lives by surrendering in Iraq, yet so callously cast his vote to allow premature infants to suffer mercilessly for their short lives, only to die in complete anonymity? When a soldier dies I will mourn, death is a tragedy no family should have to bear, but that soldier volunteered himself, his life, consciously acknowledging the possibility of his own death. The Nation will mourn, will protest, will fight, to end the deaths of our soldiers, but tell me who is mourning the deaths of defenseless children? Why are we justifying the murders of the innocents?
The murder of a child, his or her life in the hands of their mother and father, is an abomination of the human race. It sickens me to acknowledge that in our feckless selfishness our people will 'eliminate' a conceived child.
Congratulations, Mr. Obama. You have your "change". You have successfully utilized your political power to unscrupulously tell the world it is perfectly acceptable to murder their children. God's children.
You throw around the number of deaths from war. Blame Bush. Blame the Republican party. Blame ANYONE, as long as it helps your campaign.
Well, here are some numbers for you;
Every day more than 4,000 children are murdered.
Mathematically, that is an average of 1,460,000 deaths every year.
Since January 22, 1973, over 50,000,000 have been killed.
That blood, Mr. Obama, is on YOUR hands.
I truly hope that helps you sleep at night.




*if this video affected you in any way, and I truly hope it did, here is a link to the site of the Pro-Life Day of Silent Solidarity
http://www.silentday.org/
On Tuesday, October 21, 2008, we will be silent. If you would like to join us, get in contact with me via facebook or myspace.

can I please grow up now?

Oh, Abilene, i claim to love you.. and in a sense I do. I love being my own person, making my own decisions, living away from home.. but, wait, what am I really claiming here?
This is my home.. 8 months out of the year.. and how am I living it?
Am I being my own person? Or merely following the path set before me by my peers.
My own decisions? Hardly. More often than not I'm falling subjective to the will of my friends who insist I 'be more social'. More social? Your pathetic idea of being 'social' reeks of the stale smell of beer and liquor.
'You should really try to be social, Brit. Meet new people.'
Sure, I'll meet to people. First, let me down 5 beers and a few shots so I can get past my excruciating social anxiety and converse with people whom will be completely strangers in the morning, while I press ice to my head and regurgitate my liquid courage.
Wait. Stop. What just happened? Where is the independent person I claim to be?
The reflection in the mirror seems exhausted. Eyes, once bright and intriguing, now surrounded by the shadows of the the night before. Skin, once flushed with sunset hues, is pale and sullen, streaks of pale gray fall down from my eyes. The tears are involuntary now, brought on by the shock of my own recognition.
Who am I? I have absolutely no notion of my own self.
I am that one subjected to the desires of her generation.
I am everything everyone wants me to be.
Everyone but myself and my God.
HE wants me to live for HIM. ONLY HIM.
And who am I living for?
THEM.
I'm struggling now. My sense of self has dissipated at a rate I cannot even fathom, so that I no longer know when I actually WAS myself.
How long have I been a puppet to the will of my friends?
Friends.. there is a strange word.. those are the people who care about me, right?
They care about my well-being, my hopes, desires, dreams?
Facebook says I have hundreds of them. Hundreds of people who look at the pictures of the pretty girl with her pretty friends and the hideous glaze of intoxication in her eyes.
Judge me. I'm sure you all do, and you have every right to. Maybe you could come to some conclusions about myself I've yet to understand.
The only conclusion I can come to is that I have absolutely no idea what friends are. Who they are.
So, here's a test for all my 'friends'.
Do you know anything about me, aside from my appearance?
Do you know that I have a desire to change the world?
That I've read more books for pleasure than I could ever actually count?
That I'm intelligent?
That I would MUCH rather talk about politics and religion than the latest episode of "The Hills"?
That I hold myself at such a standard that I experience a complete sense of failure if my grade drops below a B?
That I am MUCH more inclined to sit at home and read a book than go out and pretend that my ability to throw a ball into a plastic cup half-filled with stale beer actually holds some meaning to my life?
Do you have any idea that I have struggled for YEARS losing and gaining weight so that I may fit into the mold of 'beautiful'?
That I have been hurt. Extensively. By a lot of people. Most of whom I gave the title 'best friend'. Some of whom I had given the title 'boyfriend.'
So,
I am sorry if I'm a bit anti-social.
I am sorry if I refuse to accompany you to a five-kegger.
And I am DEEPLY sorry if our 'friendship' suffers because I am ready to grow up and move on.
But I will no longer be held back by boys who would rather think of me naked than think of me fondly, and girls who appreciate my wardrobe more than they appreciate my well-being.

I'm sure I've offended more than one person here.. but maybe its about damn time somebody brought you to reality.
I guess we'll see who my friends are after this goes public.

Thanks for reading.

pieces.

she's perfect, isn't she?
everything i couldn't be.

it doesn't help that you're happy.
though, i'm sure it should.

comparatively, she's all.
that.
it.
every
thing.
i wasn't.
i can't.

be.

i won't pretend.

i would have,
for you,
anything.
for
everything.

you.

everything. i'll never have.
and more still,
forever.

i didn't know
couldn't.
wouldn't.
until.

you're gone.
i'll let it go.
let you,
go.

i must.

for..saking sanity
and life.
i let this go.

and for life,
i go.

forever.

Lord, make my life significant.

Here we are. The first week of my third year of college. I can't complain about my classes.. I love them all. I actually have no legitimate complaints right now aside from my complete lack of sentiment regarding anything. Nothing seems to spark an emotional high.. that nothingness only seems to petrify my emotional low. I'm unconscious as to the rationale of my emotional state. I only know that something has to occur, and soon, to remove me from my current emotional neurosis.
I'm scared, I don't know of what.
I'm tired, even though I sleep.
I'm sick.
My mental state is affecting my physical state.
Why?

Maybe I'm afraid of insignificance.
Maybe I'm tired of monotony.
Maybe I'm sick of myself.
Maybe I'm manic, depressed, unbalanced, nonsensical.
insane.
Choose your synonym. I'm sure it applies here.

There is a bottle of Welbutrin XL in my medicine cabinet.
It's almost full.
I've been off anti-depressants for over a year.
I cannot throw them away.
I loathe dependence.
My invisible crutch.
Depression; Yes or No?
Yes and No.
I'm maniacally sane.
I'm integrally broken.
Nothing makes sense.
Maybe it isn't supposed to.

Maybe tomorrow is my savior.
Maybe tomorrow is my breaking point.
Maybe yesterday was.

Maybe.
Maybe everything.
The aggregate of my life is in today.
In tomorrow.
In every day.
And every day is nothing to tomorrow.


I conclude nothing. I never expect to. I only raise more questions.
I do come away with one thing.
This prayer. My prayer.

Lord, make my life significant. Let me fulfill your will. Whatever that may be.


Amen.

..the end of my rope.

Well, being that I am currently in England it is the 24th of July. Home, however, it is still the 23rd for about 6 hours.
I haven't written in a while..
Should I blame the lack of time, lack of interest or lack of inspiration? Perhaps a combination of the three..
To be completely forthright, absolutely nothing of significance, beyond the visiting of aged cathedrals and stone circles, has occurred in my life over the last month. Don't get me wrong, some of the places I have played "tourist" have greatly astounded me, left mental pictures I will never forget. However.. all in all I think I placed entirely too much hope on the idea that changing scenery, significantly at that, would somehow forcibly alter my life.
I have played myself a fool.
The soundtrack to my life is my iTunes on shuffle. Anyone who knows me well knows this is an extremely rare occurance. As far as music is concerened I will ALWAYS know what to listen to based on how I'm feeling.. and at this very moment I'm pressing forward until I land on a song I can actually stand to listen to.
Katy Perry had held my attention over the course of a week.. then, suddenly, I felt childish for listening to her anti-boy, non-conformal anthems.
I immediately reverted back to my default of Anberlin, the only place I can't seem to go wrong.
Music is usually my go to for this certain emotional turmoil I'm currently wracked with.. today it doesn't seem to be working.
Tom Collins [thank you, love] just supplied me with Cold, which I will now proceed to listen to.

Back to my distorted beliefs in England's ability to cure the monotony that is my life. That statement seems to take a stab at England, which I'm not at all meaning to do. The country is beautiful, I absolutely love the natural element that seems to surround everything. It is my own fault for putting too much expectation into this experience.
For anyone who may stumble upon this blog and is unaware of why I'm in England.. I am taking two courses at Oxford; Faith and Literature, as well as Theory and Theology. Only 2 weeks left now.
Prior to my departure I had managed to convince myself that, by some means, this experience was going to ultimately alter my entire life. Currently, I have absolutely no idea how I had expected it to change me, or why I even wanted a change? Maybe I needed a break from the dramatics of life, the persistantly changing relationships and friendships, the lack of significance in each. I have found, though, that I miss those relationships, the friendships and the dramatics involved in each. I feel a sense of fear that maybe I am not as significant to them and as they are to me, and I have never been more terrified. I do not ever recall feeling this way before, and it certainly would be difficult to explain why.
I don't mean to sound so melodramatic, but then I cannot change what I simply am.

Well, it is 1 a.m. here in lovely Oxford, England.. and I have class at 8 a.m.

Hopefully it wont be months before I return to update.

Cheers;

Brittany

This Song is About Love;

Finally, Inspiration has struck again.
My first poem in months. Hopefully I haven't lost my touch.

This Song is About Love;

Don’t offer those words
Empty promises you’ll never fulfill
I believe you
I believe that you want to
I know that you never
Will.

Can’t you hear me?
Let me scream your name.
As loud as it fucking takes.
While my unwilling heart
Breaks.

I don’t want the lies
I can’t compromise
I won’t be hypnotized
In a trance from your beautiful
Empty

Eyes. So serene, now.
Yet, I know there is fire
To be seen.
When I was willing
You’re eyes were filling
With emotion? NO.
Need.

Focus on this, now.
Can you tell me, how,
You brushed it away?
Or do your feelings stay?
No.
What didn’t exist
Certainly doesn’t remain.

So, these eloquent words
Are all in vain.
And I am empty
Except for the pain.

liefde.amour.liebe.αγάπη.amore.amor.love.

There are so many ways to say it. Countless definitions and connotations, and yet, in every form, it eludes me. I've come to several conclusions about this subject, the first being that I'm not entirely convinced it exists.
This first conclusions stems from an idea which Tom Collins brought up months ago. "Love is just a chemical reaction." At first glance the statement itself seems like a poorly written song lyric, but upon thinking more about this statement I've decided that I understand what he meant by it.
Twice the statement "I love you", in the romantic sense, has passed through my lips. Both times I believed I meant it. When the statement was returned, I believed it to be true. In both instances I was in a position in which hormones were in complete control of my senses, and, clearly, in control of the senses of the man to return the statement. Upon regaining my "senses", and thinking deeper into the subject, I was NOT in love, nor were they with me. My brain convinced me I was feeling something new and exciting. All I was feeling were my hormones in tumultuous discord. Needless to say, my latest idea concerning the subject seems to make sense giving these situations.
So I have to ask, if doctors can prescribe medication to cure the chemical imbalances that cause depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder or other neurological disorders, then why haven't they created a pill that could keep your brain from convincing you you're in love? I am honestly convinced that there could potentially be a pill created to restore the balance that creates the feeling of being "in love".
Once a person's hormones return to normal, you'll see that, love is just an overly embellished word we use to describe temporary insanity.
I'm not writing this to sound negative or pessimistic, I'm really not at all. I'm completely content with the idea of not ever falling in love or ever experiencing it. Of course I'm only speaking about romantic love. I love my family and my friends with as much as I can love anyone. How much that is, I couldn't tell you. But that's just fine with me.

Love is just a chemical creation.

i've been having an affaire. with my journal.

So I've been cheating on my blog. Hence the lack of posts in the month of December. I started keeping a journal. All of my thoughts on paper and hidden away. I simply felt that my emotions were too deep to publicly display them.
Anyway, onto my newest post.
Ironically, my last entry was about the lake.. and I'm currently packing to go again. I need this. Probably more than I needed it before. I need to free my mind from life and it's troubles. I need my friends to bring me out of this melancholy funk I'm in.
I'm actually having a pretty amazing day considering the circumstances, which I'll keep to myself. Maybe I just haven't quite realized the absurdity of the entire situation. Maybe it hasn't hit me. OR, maybe I just really don't give a fuck. Let's go with the last one, it makes me sound cool and unaffected. The worst part of this all? The shit interrupted something important. Well, not necessarily important, but fun.. and it was interrupted none-the-less. Okay, enough talking about last night.
Seriously.. this post just sounds like me venting. It's on the same level as the majority of my myspace posts. I thought I created this blog so I could write more eloquently. Apparently not today. I'm out of it.
I may come back and write more.. but for now, that's it.
My water is out. Glad I already took a shower.
I'm off to get dressed and pick up Aaron from work.