..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.