Anxiety v. Peace: my life, the court case.
not related, I find it quite predictable that my heart has hardened so completely--to its previous state--that I wonder what vulnerability I'm even capable of. I filter through all those "where is love" thoughts and find myself more comfortable denouncing its feasibility than remembering that I've done it before. that it was easy. that it surprised me and spun me like a top--spun me so graciously that only my warm sides showed. my happy sides, my electric sides. and as soon as I remember how it's encompassed me before, I remember that the pain of its concluding roller coaster will never push me under again. and so... as much as I'd like to believe that my current confidence and peace and security is my triumph over the hurt and any subsequent walls, I know that the next soul to sneak through their cracks will fill them in a way that won't ever release it. I know it takes patience to stumble upon the soul that's prepared to be the water and the glue, but my patience is proportionate to the knowledge that I won't be able to repossess my heart a second time.
welp, enough of that! the wind is on my heels, fellas. I feel like I'm one of those pullback cars. I don't know in which direction freedom will send me, but I bet it's pretty scenic. scenic and warm.
Monday, December 19, 2011
Anxiety v. Peace: my life, the court case.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
I never know what to write anymore. Like it takes courage I don't have, or something.
I like to see my thoughts develop, but not in print.
Sometimes I think I could publish something, but not at this rate
And by the time I've worked up the courage, my thoughts will have sunk back into the mundane, back into the down comforter, back into the sudsy sink.
Sometimes I think I could publish something, but not on this date
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 1:19 PM
Monday, November 28, 2011
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
I thought I saw my turn signal miss a blink. I said, ah! Just like me. Palpitations. Skipping rhythms. Your wiring knows when to blink, beat, blink, and then sometimes it just--sometimes it just--sometimesit--sometimes it just, doesn't.
I sip Christmas Blend from a mug as big as my face, admiring its body, the coffee's, not the mug's, though perhaps the mug's as well, and draw parallels between the way the liquid pans my tongue and the way this year has panned my mind.
Isolation, propagation, irritation, awolnation, speculation, interpretation, communication, ation, ation.
"Happiness is only real when shared." - Christopher McCandless
Well, gang, it's time to start over. No one who knew me knows me still. The difference between depression and isolation is that depression plateaus in a valley while isolation plateaus on a mountain. This is not a universal metaphor, and the geographic images are paradoxical, yes, but still, isolation the way I feel it sets in with the same hardships as do any adjustments to high altitudes. I survey the view and am surprised to recognize that I do so alone. Imagine the peak is the present and grows over time (also paradoxical... peaks can only erode... I really need to think these things through). In observing the decline and my past, I notice that my surprise may be rooted in naivety. I think I climbed for too long without regard to the gaps I'd created between my companions and me. The problem remains--I... don't really know how to get back down.
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 5:40 PM
Saturday, November 19, 2011
"Trying to be a nicer person has made me meaner to myself."
Occasionally I allow myself to care for people indiscriminately. Pros and cons.
I fall in love with friendships all the time. I learned to function inside of those infatuations for so long that I don't know what to do with myself outside of them.
At 19.5 years of age, an age that must differ from person to person (primarily due to varied lacks of awareness that doing so is important), I can officially look back on who I was/how I reacted to things/the courses of action I took and reflect on how I would treat those scenarios differently today. Which is promising, I suppose. My brain chemistry must be fermenting right on schedule.
I look in the mirror and see two people: one girl won't need to be someone's partner ever again, and the other doesn't know how she's gone one short year without existing solely as one. Integrating those identities presents my current internal struggle. I typically settle on the notion that my resolute independence is shaping my future as a whole that functions simultaneously as a half.
Whatever. That's reading as a bunch of heart-on-my-sleeve mumbo jumbo. And if there's one place my heart isn't... you get the picture.
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 9:40 PM
Saturday, November 12, 2011
I'm usually floating along on a writer's spectrum that ranges anywhere from "Why haven't I published a collection of every thought I've ever had?" to "No use adding more thoughts to the world's already overflowing sea of thoughts" to "Why would anyone, given the chance to read already acclaimed works, want to read about what I have to say?"
The other day I was disappointed to realize that a few ideas I wanted to expand disappeared in the relentless Idea Stratosphere because I never wrote them down to remember them. Then I wondered if they were even worth remembering. Then I chastised myself for harboring insecurities regarding something so subjective. Then I chastised myself for encouraging unconditional confidence.
Long story long, I find myself reading so many essays and poems and song lyrics that I identify with. Not only do I identify with them, but I'd like to try my pen at a few. But I get caught up in the dangerous Motive Zone where I wonder for what reason I present such thoughts. If happiness is only real when shared, are thoughts only real if presented for discussion? If I keep something inside, do I benefit from it? If I let everything go, what do I have left?
Meh. I need to purify the process. Expand the process. Never again have to answer the question, "Are you still writing?" with "I don't know. Sort of."
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 11:33 PM
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Interesting: loneliness is attached to both people and places.
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 2:04 AM
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Fresh sunlight paints the recently woken East and extends to greet the West. I take advantage of my window seat and grow eager to take inventory of where a new day meets old night. As the nose of my aircraft fights for its space in the atmosphere, I imagine my newborn nose poking sky for the first time as the animal kingdom celebrates the arrival of an heir to the throne. A few years from now, Mufasa whispers to me, “Everything the sun touches will one day be yours.”
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 11:12 AM
Friday, October 21, 2011
So I was thinking,
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 11:14 AM
Sunday, October 16, 2011
I remember exactly what I wrote one year ago today. That year has been the most dynamic in my life.
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 1:16 AM
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 8:50 PM
Sunday, October 2, 2011
I woke up more than once yesterday. The sister's alarm told her to go to work right before the brother's, and I was next. I could feel the chill coming in through the curtains, and it nipped at my toes as they peeked out from under the comforter to welcome a brand new day. I chose long pants and a dress code jacket. I found pumpkin muffins and a flannel-coated father when I reached the top of the stairs and felt, for the first time this year, that overwhelming Fall.
I wonder if it's the animalistic part of humanity that sends our psyches into seasonal habits, but I'd like to explore with you the transition of one of my own.
The fall of....let's see. 2006. The fall of 2006 began my crush on a boy. Crushes are exhausting. Mentally, emotionally, and physically as a result. I spent that fall wishing and dreaming and wondering and scheming, and it spilled over into winter without me realizing or keeping count. He started dating my best friend the following spring, and so I returned to the independent, self-confident, unaffected version of me. They broke up that summer, and in the fall of 2007, my more dependent, emotional, romantic side started to surface once more. I was doing whatever I thought it would take to secure him, and I did. The resulting winter and spring were somewhat blissful, if I remember correctly, in a high-school-honeymoon sort of way. And then for whatever reasons, the summer slid down into a fall that left me feeling insecure and grasping for effortless mutual interest once more.
This past year and a half has revealed more to me about mental habits than I ever knew existed. If I had entertained the idea that my cycles of overanalysis depend on, well, the fact that they are cycles, I think I would have remained more aware about reigning them in. But I didn't, and as a result, whenever the first chill of fall hits--the first college football game, the debut of pumpkin ingredients in grocery stores, the final sale of all short-sleeved items--I begin to notice my mental...decline, for lack of a better word, into the half of me that functions best as a worried and infatuated half of a whole. When spring rolls around and wakes me from my hibernation of insecurity, prompting my confident green leaves to burst forth, they do, and all pangs of fall inferiority are forgotten.
Noticing this strange pattern has fascinated me for the past four years, but this year presents a curveball. The cycle has reversed. I will spend this fall more content than I've ever been in a fall that I can remember. And the way timing and friendships go, I anticipate (though don't look forward to) possible emotional attachment by the time spring rolls around. What I'm left to wonder is if this year will feel entirely like a skip in a record track, or if it will feel like a brand new precedent.
I've never explained this sensation to anybody and been met with understanding, and that fascinates me even more. Is it overthinking itself that produces these hypotheses? I'm not sure. All I know is that wool socks and peppermint mochas are appearing like film editing discrepancies; it's been so long since they stopped by while I felt this happy and excited for my future that I suspect their misplacement.
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 4:35 PM
Saturday, September 24, 2011
soo I left my family to come home for work's sake and alone time's sake and a warm bed's sake and my tortoise's sake, but I am sad. I go through phases of weathering loneliness and dreading loneliness, and I dread it tonight. I wish I weren't alone in this house, and it reminds me that on any day that I think living alone would be a good idea, I am simply moving through a phase of weathering the loneliness. my four happy roommates are away until tomorrow, and I think I'll sleep on the couch tonight. something about grouping unordinary circumstances always feels more ordinary. alone in my bed: strange. alone on a couch: normal. and as much as I love my tortoise, he isn't much of a cuddle bug.
it's a weighty feeling that I'll do my best never to give myself over completely to a relationship without anticipating that it will last for...well, for forever, because in that vein, I anticipate it will be quite some time before that happens. I've given pieces of myself away, but the good news is that I like myself enough to hold on to the rest. it will be something of a triumph for whoever wrestles it from me, actually. or is it whomever? no matter.
my heart is skipping beats. ba-dum. ba-dum. badumbadum. ba---dum. ba-dum. ba-dum. ba-dum. badumba. dum. sigh.
oh, and I wrote something new, if you'd care to read it. never date a poet of any variety. no matter how it ends, the end will remain an artistic wellspring for the rest of your life. which is an especially long time if you're a tortoise.
you taste like the mugginess of a summer midnight
the air of marked heirlooms—old upholstery perhaps
a taste that smelled like the beach at dawn
a smell I’d know anywhere
a smell that taps me on the shoulder from time to time
and challenges me not to know it.
nothing intrigues me more completely
than the idea that your taste has changed
that your smell has developed
so that, when I stumble upon the likes of either,
I am not remembering you at all
but all that’s left to remember.
a smell that taught me home
a taste that let me go
and a realization that my senses
are making sense
of more than I knew to require of them.
you tasted of permanence
and of transience
the way cigarette smoke disappears as it stains your clothes
but I don’t like everything I used to
or dislike all I’d never touch.
my tongue has grown as my brain has,
contained only by the vessel that holds it.
both have too much to say.
my taste has fine-tuned itself,
adapting to what I need.
your taste has grown as your needs have,
increasing the distance between its realities
and my view of them.
your taste has doubtlessly marbled itself
mixed what I know with what I don’t
all the while leaving what I remember
no choice but to marble as well.
a future collision of our brains
would act somewhat like a software update
or the recognition of external hardware;
reacquainting would require acknowledgement of increased memory.
they are as two poles that will never touch
or a wave that follows another to the shore—
composed of the same material
but never at the same time.
the whites I labeled
Fresh Starts and
Good Parts and
now present themselves differently
no matter how slightly;
for any good designer knows
that a coat of Eggshell
taints a coat of Porcelain.
the eggshells you coated me with have since cracked
leaving the porcelain I now don
to chip under someone else’s wear.
if walls could speak,
if walls could speak,
they would fill their rooms with a foreign future
dotted simply with remnants of their past.
crooked rocking chairs
framed scenes of glossy smiles
hung level on faces that will never again respond
to the stroke of your stranger brush.
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 11:45 PM
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Monday, September 12, 2011
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 2:25 PM
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Sunday, September 4, 2011
"I feel so helpless now
My guitar is not around
And I'm struggling with the xylophone
To make these feelings sound
And I'm remembering you singing
And bringin' you to life
It's raining out the window
And today it looks like night
You haven't written to me in a week
I'm wondering why that is
Are you too nervous to be lovers
Friendship's ruined with just one kiss?
I watched you very closely, I saw you look away
Your eyes are either gray or blue
I'm never close enough to say
But your sweatshirt says it all
With the hood over your face
I can't keep starin' at your mouth
Without wonderin' how it tastes
I'm with another boy
(He's asleep, I'm wide awake )
And he tried to win my heart
But it's taken time
I know the shape of your hands
Because I watch 'em when you talk
And I know the shape of your body
'Cause I watch it when you walk
And I want to know it all
But I'm giving you the lead
So go on, go on and take it
Don't fake it, shake it
Crazy eyes have you
Are they gray or blue?
I won't make the move
You must make the move
If you make the move
I will then approve
If you do not move
We will surely lose...)
Don't second-guess your feelings
You were right from the start
And I notice she's your lover
But she's nowhere near your heart
This city is for strangers
Like the sky is for the stars
But I think it's very dangerous
If we do not take what's ours
And I'm winning you with words
Because I have no other way
I'd love to look into your face
Without your eyes turning away
Last night I watched you sing
Because a person has to try
And I walked home in the rain
Because a person cannot lie..."
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 10:08 PM
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 11:39 PM
Sunday, August 28, 2011
I climbed into my car to drive to work this week and discovered a ladybug on my window. While stopped at the first signal, I looked at him and sent him telepathic sweet nothings to hold fast and hold on until we arrived safely at our destination. As the light turned green, I refocused my eyes and saw the truck next to me. It was a landscaping truck. The paint job read: "The Grass is Always Greener."
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 11:03 PM
Sunday, August 21, 2011
So I'm cruising down the street, listening to The Cars as loud as it takes for other cars' noise to just barely breeze through, watching Molly jam in my passenger seat, windows down, arm hanging out, laughing as hard as I can without closing my eyes cause I'm driving, and I think to myself, at whichever point in my life I thought I was the happiest I would ever be
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 12:38 AM
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
ah. I feel better now.
forget poeticism and poeticalness and crypticism and craftiness.
I keep trying to weave the same lines as I used to, and I start to wonder if there's some metaphorical string that connects my subconscious to my syntax. because no matter how much I want to express myself in an eloquent yet elegant fashion, all the thoughts I think while I cruise down the highway do not make it to this forum in couplet form. not many ever did, but seemingly especially now. see, I'm even using too many adverbs. I'm growing weaker.
but not in every area! most everything else about me is growing up, growing solid, growing like a gold-dipped weed or something. I eat big, hearty, yet again metaphorical meals of life transitions and adapting lessons and goal-forming and music listening.
and now I'm going to tell you all something I have so far censored from this blog. this summer marked the most depressed I have ever been, and not knowing what to attribute it to deepened the depression further. for the first time in my life, I changed the channels when hearing "Are you constantly fatigued and losing touch with friends and failing to see the fun in things that used to make you smile and wanting to furnish the deep hole you're in because you think you'll be there for a while?" those commercials asked questions I didn't want to hear. to those of you who attribute all unhappiness to spiritual famine, this was something somewhat clearly estranged from my spiritual health. for the first time in my life, though for only a few days, I considered exploring medical improvements to my chemical state.
and the reason that valley was so bewildering to me is that it wasn't in stride with my previously broken heart. it wasn't connected at all. I would never fall mentally prey to such transient emotions--not to the point of numbness I experienced. at least when my heart broke, I could feel it, you know? speaking of which, one time I read this PostSecret that said, "I feel most alive when my heart is breaking." and I did. I felt really invigorated and free. sad, but free. you should try it sometime. then that phase passed, and whatever this thing was began. and I didn't know what to call it. I still don't. but I think I'm out of it.
the reason I think I'm out of it is that... well nevermind, I don't have one. I'm just not depressed anymore. so that's good!
and it felt good to write that. huh. maybe that subconscious string is connected to the ankles of the skeletons in my closet. and when they dance... man. it's a party.
and you're all invited!
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 5:40 PM
Sunday, August 7, 2011
I've been staring at this blank space for, oh, thirty minutes. I have a lot to say but I don't know what of it to say.
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 4:04 PM
Monday, August 1, 2011
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 1:40 PM
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
things from Virginian travels!
first, verbatim snippets from last week's late night musings, re-read only now:
[all incomplete. teasers, really.]
she greeted the sun with a forlorn smile,
chin upturned as a sunflower’s might be,
finding the heat and then staying within it,
and it felt like holding onto a hug for too long.
like the sun would let go if it could
like if the sun were not the anchor, but a ship
not the refrigerator, but a magnet
he would meet his maker and then leave her
abandon his roots in the ocean
and say he’ll be back soon
but not mean it.
the blinks they sink like soap in a drink like bubbles that think what they float above is the monster, that what they float above is the answer, that what they float above is the primer before the paint, the "will not" before the "ain’t," the pinks before the faint.
and as you sing along, I sing a different song, a song you won’t know how to sing when I’m gone, won’t know how to take for too long, cause I’m going to the riverbed, going to the river, dead, as Virginia Woolf, the rocks in her pocket and brilliance in her fingers that couldn’t trump the wanderlust in her heart. the wanderlust for another world. and the only other world was one she couldn’t reach in this life, and who knows where the other life is, but it’s not here
how much for that lover in the window
the one with the shaggy blonde hair
it sounds funny I know
but it really is so, oh,
I’m my own...
I’m my own.
and an excerpt from Judith Minty's "Letters to My Daughter." I found a copy at a secondhand store. It's really great.
"This week I received two love letters,
one from a boy still in high school, another
from an older man in his twenties,
a man who whispers about mountains.
Your father doesn't read my mail. He pretends
disinterest in the postmarks, the crimped penmanship,
the shy poems folded inside.
Even when it mattered, he never wrote me. I think he was
embarrassed by misspelled words, stammering lines.
But now he watches me as I watch for the mailman's truck. He notices
how my fingers stain the curtains when I part them,
that I float through snow in my bathrobe to the mailbox.
I hide the letters in dark drawers and pull them out
when I can't remember my name. They smell like wild violets.
Your father? Lately, I find him bent at his desk,
hands knotted over blank papers. I must tell him
those young men are only in love with poetry."
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 6:15 PM
Friday, July 1, 2011
the words in my head are like a swirly tornado. tempestuous and dangerous, but mostly air, but every once in a while, a cow or a VW van, and those hurt, or at least smack you pretty hard, and in the case of the van, they might kill you.
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 2:05 PM
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
and all your fluids couldn't tolerate the force of my thirst
I love the place, where we shared our tiny grace
But just because it's real don't mean it's going to work
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 2:01 AM
Friday, June 17, 2011
[this isn't the lost notebook poem. I just sat down to write and this sprung out. in fact....] Sprung
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 9:09 AM
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Sunday, June 5, 2011
- get a degree or two
- travel tons. to the accessible places first
- buy my first car
- remember to forgive people as often as they forgive me. (I mean because that's a lot, not that I'll forgive them conditionally)
- memorize more poems to slam with
- write more poems to memorize
- babysit more babies. babies at all, really
- get back to reading books at a productive pace
- fall in like a few times
- let someone love me if the opportunity arises
- establish mix CD making as an official love language
- do crosswords
- learn how to play bass guitar
- find an excuse to play trombone regularly
- remember that worry is futile
- underoveranalyze. so.. plain analyze
- exercise often enough for it to be a habit
- row crew pleeeeeease
- line up future tattoos with future ventures
- figure out what I have to do to cash in on this God-given memo that He brought me home to be on firmer ground when he wrecks me somehow, whatever that means. I keep telling Him I'm not ready.... but I think I am. and if I am, He knows so. here goes nothing? here goes everything?
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 2:38 PM
Thursday, June 2, 2011
a post twofer! as in PM thoughts followed by AM thoughts. as in perplexity followed by coherency.
I haven't seriously sat down to write in...long enough to recognize it in my heart rate. And I realize that sounds dramatic to those who don't process thoughts through words, but whenever I separate myself from writing down what I think about, I grow soundlessly closer to a panic attack. I don't speak much, and I don't make much eye contact. And you want to know what's wrong, and it's not what I'm feeling--it's that I don't know how to convey what I'm feeling.
Partly, I'm this weird fusion of the same person and a new person, and that fusion feels as though it's at a starting line. The same person, because my sense of humor is still hit and miss, and because I still deliberate over eeeverything, and because I still do little things... facial expressions, useless humming, make playful quips, talk too much. The same things show up in my current relationships. Noticing this helped define me, because I worried that I'd lost myself in trying to maintain what I had, but I don't think I ever did. I was never going to be the one to lose myself. In some weird paradoxical fashion, however, I became reacquainted with the person I was beforehand. The person I was this time four years ago. It was completely liberating, and it set a new foundation for all the growth I've been doing. Somehow I took everything--what was good about it, what was bad about it, what I expected, what I learned not to expect--and boiled it down into some sort of crash course for the future. And this is just how life chapters work, not some sort of breakthrough, but I'm thankful that this life chapter followed the life chapter pattern. I can build on what I've done.
Two things I'm thankful for: that heartbreak happened so early in my life. It's like I got my future back. So many goals arose (future post), and so much freedom blossomed. If I had stayed anchored for years longer... well, I just don't see why knowledge should be delayed at all. I may have been forced to gain it, but I did it before polishing off my second decade, and that makes me feel young and wild. In a respectable fashion, of course.
The second thing is the opportunity to go to New York this past year. I've wondered a little bit about how dynamic a freshman year in college is without first heartbreak. I'm pretty sure it's a poignant experience regardless. Additionally, living in New York in a poignant experience regardless. But to layer these things with a healing process is unreal. I spent the majority of the time reveling in realizations about other people as well as me. And I know we all know how wholeheartedly I thrive on realizations. If you could set me back in August of 2010 and tell me that I could only spend one year in New York out of my entire life, looking back, I wouldn't have placed it anywhere else.
I feel a little bit repetitive. This isn't new information to any of you, really. Especially if you've been reading. But as summer begins, back in Georgia, I feel like we can move on to the second installment of my life's film saga. You'll laugh, you'll cry, and hopefully you'll join me in anticipation of what's to come. I'll overpedal occasionally, maybe spin out of control... but that's more interesting than watching someone with training wheels.
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 3:25 PM
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 12:37 AM
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Man, I should have posted sooner after the festival. I wanted to post every night, but pretty much collapsed every time I got back to the room. Definitely collapsed the third night as a result of the sun poisoning I got from being a sunscreen-less LOSER. At least the human body reacts poorly to harm. Learned my lesson. (though you'd think I would have from an earlier sunburn? yeah. same here.)
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 1:50 AM
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 2:29 AM
Monday, May 16, 2011
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 3:52 AM
Friday, May 6, 2011
- the friends that are willing to make the effort are the ones I'm investing in right now
- sometimes I fall in love with friendships. sometimes those friends don't know how to handle it and create distance
- I need to rely on God more than I rely on humans and their error
- I'm still not 100% sure I'm making the right decision
- I'm still a control freak
- I've reminded myself that I like to read
- I make a pretty good third wheel
- perhaps I only think I'm confrontational when in reality, I'm passive aggressive
- my tattoo is b-o-s-s
- I love my job
- I don't want to dye my hair back to blonde yet
- I need to find a spoken word venue in Atlanta
- I'm STOKED for my travel opportunities this summer
- man cannot live on two hours of sleep alone
- to be continued
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 9:21 PM
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 12:54 PM
Insecurity is as potent as sadness. It took me three years to believe the love I was shown, and six months for the possibility of its flukeness to creep back into my head.
Let's just say that, given the satisfaction my current relationships are yielding, I've begun to entertain the idea that I'm shooting for something I'll never find.
I hope that relinquishing the idea of a forever with someone magically releases the idea to someone else's life. That's the only way I make peace with it. I'd rather handle loneliness and learn from it than cause someone else to. Now, that's not the way life has ever worked or will ever work--the transfer of happiness skipping like neutrons between atoms of hope.
But it's true that I've prayed before for God to strip my faith from me that anyone else might have it, free and clear and forever.
There are too many holes in that scenario to count, but I wished it so hard....
I think the imagination behind it all is in the same vein as my gratefulness for the learning experience loneliness offers. As people find their places around me, I get to learn from them as well. There is no bitterness involved because I don't resent the chance to learn more about the world.
That said, it will be interesting to see if/when I find my place. I have the capacity to throw myself into numerous places, as my improving judgment allows, and I used to think I had the strength to do it over and over and over again.
I don't think I do anymore. Partly, the taste of disappointment is officially stale. Partly, I'd like to curb the rate of my growing disillusionment.
That cynicism fades as I walk alone to the park, an apple in my hand and a smile on my face.... but it bubbles up within me as I receive the text that those who invited me to meet them there have decided to leave. They say they'll see me later.
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 2:09 AM
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
I am supposed to be doing my math homework, but how can I at a time like this? You know. Like this. When my thoughts are churning.
It was really nice to meet you, goodbye
It's high time I quit wondering why
'Cause I have lost all that I can from my side
And when you think of me again, no
I tried, I tried, goodbye
Forgive me while I lay here
But I have nowhere else to be
I figure when I leave this time, it's for keeps
And when I say, 'Good Morning' next
I'll lie, I'll lie, this is goodbye
I'll only lay the day I can't remember you at all
And it's not easy to say that day
Is already come and gone
And all that remains is a place
Where you no longer are
One day I won't regret this
Oh, how I want to believe that's true
Once I pick up my parts I broke on you
I'll get used to the idea
It's not you, not you, goodbye
--Greg Laswell, "Goodbye"
I have been talking about grief with the people I care about. I think it's interesting how deeply individual grief can be while maintaining a...revelation pattern, if you will, that unites all that have experienced it. A revelation pattern that teaches people about themselves. A revelation pattern that seems to determine identity from that day onward. An identity that tries to shake itself of the grief to find peace, but begins to find peace only once it recognizes the role the grief plays.
I think a universal aspect of grief is the wrenching notion that in times of happiness, the grief hides its face juuust long enough to be forgotten. When the happy moment passes, the grief doesn't just reappear, but reappears as if for the first time. It's as though you say Hello Again with an I Thought I'd Lost You that pairs itself with a Where Did You Come From? and then an Oh Yeah.
What I think I've already experienced but didn't conceptualize until yesterday is how potent sadness is. Imagine a paint palette. Colors get lighter when mixed with white and darker when mixed with black. Have you ever noticed how much white it takes to lighten a color? No matter how much you add, you could always stand to be a little lighter. And every time a person or song or lyric or scent or situation adds just one drop of black to your rainbow, entire strokes of white are erased. The world gets a little bit darker much more freely than it gets lighter. There's never enough white to whiten the black.
The hardest part has been accepting that believing in people with everything I have isn't enough. I keep swearing that I'll get just a little bit more, a little bit more, a little bit more to believe in you all with, but what would that solve?
There's lots to believe in. That you will be disappointed is on the list. That you will be disappointed because you're used to your belief being enough is on the list. That learning how and who to believe is one of the greatest lessons you'll learn is on the list.
When the willingness to have faith in someone forever is unwanted... well. Willingness is difficult to recycle. And faith is hard to throw away.
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 10:49 PM
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Man, does life speed by.
High school was this era of welcome stagnance. It got stuffy sometimes and sometimes I wanted to take a spring day and use it to run away, but I was probably going to come home for dinner. I was in love for the majority of it, so my skin glowed differently. And I was hopeful for most of it, so my words rang differently.
I'm not in love anymore, but my words still ring a little differently. And when they tell you high school is "the glory days," put a mental "some of" in front of it. They are the days during which you learn how to fill your days with glory. They are the days in which you learn how to brush yourself off after a particularly gloryless day. The days when your friends are the best and your grades are the worst. Then college comes around, and you wait for better friends and worse grades....
but I'm still not entirely sure that's part of the deal. The years you use to most form yourself will always seem an anchor in a better time. And the days that have you saying, "Wow. I might belong here." should not be overlooked. Because while you don't belong there, wherever it is you do will have taken a hint from then.
It's rough, you know. I don't want what I had, but what I had is my anchor in that time. I could never embrace ignorance, and so I'll never be able to go back, but that's my gain. Why aren't all gains peaceful?
Eyes can turn natives into tourists. Time can turn lovers into strangers, and girls into birds.
I'll be aiming for the sun until it's time to aim for the moon. Just call me when dinner's ready.
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 2:19 AM
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
yeah, here's the thing about inspirational, guilt trip-inducing, tumblr-confined mourny pictures reading "you said forever."
people say things they don't mean.
people say things they don't know how to mean.
people will not live up to your expectations of them.
people don't even live up to their expectations of themselves.
I don't think trusting someone is wrong. I just think the above image should have a guilt trip-inducing counterpart for the opposite party.
"you heard forever."
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 12:46 AM
Saturday, April 16, 2011
My answer to "I mean, I don't know what I expected," if I'm being honest, is usually "more." It just isn't always justified. And that's alright. But acceptance of that fact rarely manifests as initial peace with it.
Lord knows I don't impress people with my actions often enough to warrant being impressed more often by people's actions.
I have so much ahead of me that I'm excited for, and I still find myself in these ruts. My friends are upstairs laughing and having a good time, and I don't even want to be there. My heart aches with thanks for their presence in my life, but my heart aches too much to surround myself with all that happiness.
I keep craving being near someone who is as excited to hold my burdens as I am to hold theirs.
And I really am, you know. I'm excited to hold your burdens. I haven't broken under any weight yet, and it's a boundary I'm eager to push--especially for my friends. Lay it on me.
"It's sick that all these battles are what keep me satisfied."
--Love the Way You Lie
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 10:21 PM
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Sunday, April 10, 2011
I just chatted with God in frustration about how often it feels like every relationship I have is as good as it is because of the ferocity with which I go after it.
And I asked, "What is it about my life that has me doing all of the chasing, all of the time?"
And, as you might imagine, I heard in an instant:
"I chase you."
And you know... since we're being honest here...
I really wish that were enough.
But I know He understands. He created me with the need for fellowship, community, companionship... it is Him in me that chases people.
And on a good day, that angle is enough, because on a good day, all I want to do is exhibit Him in me.
But on those bad days, I translate my obedience to Him in me into entitlement to relationships that chase me. And I'm being pretty unforgiving, because Molly and my family chase me more than I deserve. But when it comes to fresh relationships, I start to wonder what my prioritizing them over them prioritizing me says about my life.
All that to say, I trust God completely. I am ecstatic about what's to come, and I've missed this version of myself. I know it is only a matter of time until I partner with someone who actually goes after me for a change, and I'm in no rush to find him.
In fact, I'm in no rush to do anything at all.
Including go to sleep, apparently.
Toodle-oo, darlings. Toodle-oo.
[how the hey do you spell toodle-oo]
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 1:23 AM
Friday, April 8, 2011
Ponder this: The world is God's and, ultimately, as small as He wants it to be.
There are only so many places to go, but there are neverending places to connect. I have so many thoughts about this that I can't put words to them all....
a few instances:
one of my classmates is close family friends with the Henn family. Nate Henn was killed in a terrorist attack while serving as an Invisible Children roadie in Uganda this past summer. that classmate organized an Invisible Children screening at King's.
I almost didn't go to it. My attendance was truly a last minute decision--a decision I'm starting to realize was not mine at all.
Invisible Children's newest film, "Tony," wrecked me. I blamed a lot of this on my hormones, but maybe I shouldn't. My heart's ache at how much security I have when there are children abducted daily from their homes and forced to fight as child soldiers in Africa's longest-running war... it feels sort of like an atomic explosion on an emotional level. I've been struck before by how small I am, but perhaps never quite like this. My speck of existence in the scope of God's world is paradoxed (not a word but should be) by the scope of my potential role in this speck of a world.
I have so. little. time. to do so. much. with. What am I doing? Why do I keep re-orchestrating my list of goals? I am living such a turbulent phase of my life that I look ahead in an attempt to lose as few opportunities as possible. It has become a settling sense of peace to me that God will present his goals for me to me as He wishes. I try to recognize this web to the best of my abilities, but I often lose sleep over my next step. Am I sure I'm following God's path for me? Can I be sure? Why won't He confirm it when I beg Him to?
I worry a lot about my obedience to God. I'm starting to bank on the idea that worrying about that at all is evidence of the right direction.
Anyway, the small world continues, because after the film screening, I was going to leave and go straight home, but I decided to hang around the merch table for a bit. One of the roadies asked me where I was from, and when I said Georgia, he said, "Me too!! We all are!" Turns out the three roadies around me were all from my glorious home state.
What's even weirder is that when Morgan, the first, asked where in GA I'm from, and I answered with Marietta, the one behind me paused and responded, "So am I. Where did you go to school?"
Lo and behold, I met a member of Walton's '09 graduating class for the first time in New York City. In a school I almost didn't go to. A school whose validity the entire Invisible Children team couldn't help but question. At a screening I almost didn't attend. During a tour he may not have been accepted for. After we got over our minds being blown, we chatted for a while about mutual friends and mutual love for Atlanta. I don't know exactly what role that meeting will play in my life--whether his being the kind of person I want to surround myself with gives me hope for increased friendship with him or hope for friendships with those like him.
Whatever the case may be, I learned more that night than I bargained for. I felt a heart for Invisible Children that I don't want to abandon, but I've already begun to emotionally prepare myself for that course not matching what God wants for me. I guess we'll find out. I also felt a heart for new friendships and my hometown that gave me peace about leaving the city.
peace about leaving the city....
peace that surpasseth all understanding
Shantih shantih shantih
One of the women at the screening was talking to my classmate afterwards, and as I unashamedly "researched" the relationships between the roadies I met and the people I know, I recognized her face on Facebook. I learned of her role in Nate's short life and stumbled upon a blog she writes. As I read about her grief, my heart went out to Molly and hers. I knew they were words Molly could stand to read. Molly and Stephanie connected, and Stephanie's grace and love for Molly confirmed my realization that this huge world is only huge if we look at it through worldy eyes.
God's increased revelations to me present a broader scope that, paradoxically, shrinks the world down to its actual size. Actually, I can grow closer to my brother and sister no matter how far I am from them. Actually, I can meet a girl who also grew up north of Atlanta in New York City before returning with her to Atlanta to continue to grow up together. Actually, I can meet a roadie who went to my high school. Actually, I can recognize a mirror of grief that spans time and states. Actually, I can achieve exactly what I'm supposed to for the world because the world is God's kingdom, and I pray and beg for the same exact role that He has been preparing me for for nineteen years. Whichever it may be.
My heart is an atomic explosion for each and every one of you.
especially for making it to the bottom of this post ;)
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 3:02 PM
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Friday, April 1, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 12:35 PM
Monday, March 28, 2011
"Finally, I can see you crystal clear...
...Don't underestimate the things that I will do.
The scars of your love remind me of us,
They keep me thinking that we almost had it all,
The scars of your love, they leave me breathless,
I can't help feeling,
We could have had it all,
Rolling in the deep
You had my heart inside your hands,
And you played it to the beat."
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 9:48 PM
Saturday, March 26, 2011
sometimes there are those moments, you know
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 1:11 AM
Friday, March 25, 2011
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 3:36 AM
Saturday, March 19, 2011
I am exhausted.
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 5:55 PM
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 9:03 AM
Friday, March 11, 2011
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Monday, March 7, 2011
This is amazing. Captures the age-old dilemma, "are adaptations helpful or harmful?" Considering mash-ups are all the rage, it's easy to wonder if talent is even talented anymore. Is all the new material gone? Are artists too lazy to find it? But I watch this and think, borrowed video or not, this is talent.
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 3:01 PM
Thursday, March 3, 2011
I'm pretty sure I only like the idea of have nothing and no one to weigh me down for years and years because that's the fashionable thing to do. To look forward to the time when I can finally answer to no one, travel endlessly, and return when I'm ready.
What jazzes me is finding people to answer to. Finding people to travel with. Forgoing the need to return because every new place I find is home.
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 11:41 AM
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
"my fingertips are holding onto
the cracks in our foundation
and I know that I should let go
but I can't."
- Kate Nash, "Foundation"
I eat carbs now.
Guess what other rule I broke?
If ever you doubted my will power, you were entirely justified.
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 10:03 PM
Monday, February 28, 2011
Was talking to My BFF Molly last night, and we were discussing relationships of any sort and how the lasting ones are dependent on both members knowing it's worth it to be 100% of the relationship when all the other person can afford is 0%. How long each person can tolerate doing so is a different story entirely, which is why the lasting ones are also made up of two people who wouldn't wish to subject the other to it, but thinking about this got me thinking. [What else is new]
Am I supposed to be giving 100% right now? Am I supposed to have the same final say I'm learning to forgo and swear til I die that I had something that should have lasted?
Pretty sure the answer is no.
Posted by Lucy Doughty at 11:38 AM