why do the ones who have nothing to say. . .

always speak the loudest?!?!?!

having grown up in the south, i've heard a lot of crazy sayings that most people in the rest of the world would not know what they meant- but i've never been one to misuse it. i work with this lady who, when she speaks sometimes, it's like a competition to confuse the rest of us with her 'southern' jargon. in reality, it makes no sense, and i'm convinced she makes it up as she goes. but above everything else, i think what aggravates me most is the fact that in one second flat she can go from a light southern drawl to back-woods louisiana southern talk. she does it on the phone, when defending herself, in conversation. . .really, it's just not necessary.
yes, i do admit, my accent does come out sometimes, mostly when i'm embarassed or tired, but never do i flaunt it. a true southern accent is something that is rare and beautiful. it's a lilt of music, a pleasure to hear, something that draws you in and then this blowhard comes in and the wonderful music of an accent is drowned out by clashing cymbals and seagull cries.

i just don't know. . .

is it the romantic in me or the idealist that enables me to fall in love with ideas? i've been all over the board. . .in love with people, cities, friends, occupations. . .and then all of a sudden it's over with. not necessarily because of any trauma or obstacle, it's just gone. sometimes i have to wonder if it's better to be oblivious than it is to be over-aware.
i dream big and my heart and mind race to see it through- that's generally when reality comes in with a big swipe of the hand and knocks me off my feet and onto my keester. the reality of it is, he's not acting if he were interested- which in my case and for my senses, i need to say that he's not interested. that stops my heart/mind before it gets off the ground. it's kinda hard to get swept off your feet if they're off the ground all the time. . .

. . .

i hate it when there is a block. regardless if it's self-imposed by not processing or if it's legitimately unable to be articulated, i hate it. it's been too long since i last wrote, so much life has passed by, so many ideas simultaneously slamming into the forefront of my mind that i can't get a sentence in edgewise.
too many people talking, too many thoughts converging. . .
i sit among the empty thoughts and am pummeled by the ones that don't have the audacity to stand up and present themselves.
it's chaos at its apex, it's maddening at times. . .
i'm exhausted by the interminable questions, the unquieted fears, the unimaginable pain. . .the roar of my mind is deafening.
i laugh at who i think i've become, so quick to judge others, to ridicule myself. . .
another cycle begins. . .another question surfaces. . .once more the noise crescendos, drowning out all reason and once again solitude eludes me.