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To love, or not to love?

I want to pour myself into something. Just, wholeheartedly dump who I am into something and bury myself in it. I thought I could do that with art, with singing, with acting--but I can't. There's nothing I'm confident in. Not confident enough to pour myself into it without worrying about repercussions.

God, what I wouldn't do to be able to pour myself into love, but I don't even know how to do that properly. My kind of love turns out haphazard, hesitant and in the end, broken. By me. Because I don't know what the hell I'm doing. When you kiss someone, aren't you supposed to lose yourself in them? Aren't you supposed to think of the amazing feelings you're having rather than the fact that their nose is too close, that you're breathing the same air, that the second before your lips met you saw their face twist into some sort of grotesque demon's mask? When your lover reaches for your hand aren't you supposed to feel giddy with the feeling? Not dreading the closeness that it'll cause. PALM to PALM. That's close, you know. That's REALLY opening yourself up.

So if I just push those awkward feelings aside, do you think that it'll make it any better? Make me more capable of loving someone? I'm 23 years old and without a proper relationship or even anyone I'm interested in--and you know the funny part? I've never been interested in someone who was interested in me first. Why? Because I know the feelings are reciprocated then? Then I'll HAVE to do those things I've been avoiding. Much safer to have a long distance relationship where you don't have to worry about that kinda thing, or a relationship that's one-sided. Easier to admire from afar and not worry about them wanting to drag you back to the bedroom for equally awkward moments.

For once, though, it'd be nice to have what I want. A love, a wholehearted love that just grabs on and doesn't let go.


No, maybe not. HA.

Maybe it's my love that needs to be wholehearted. Screw the guy, he doesn't need to be wholehearted. I can't stand puppydogs or people who attach themselves like glue.

So really, what is it that I want?

Probably the ability to love, because, right now I'm not capable of it. And maybe that's the part that confuses and hurts. To not be able to love or be loved--not because there is something wrong with me, but because I won't allow it.

I refuse to allow it.

Because this thing I want is weakness.

Time For a Change...

So it's been a while, hasn't it? Since I've seen fit to spill my life onto this little journal. There's a few things that you've all missed!

I got back from Sicily! Oh, wait, you know that.

I'm making arancini at Devon's house tonight. Sushi rice is perfect. :D It's wonderful and STICKY. =~= Expensive though...

I have a rat! :] He's cute, and his name is Lucky. Cos he didn't get eaten by the snake.

I'm getting my own apartment! Time to see if I can live on my own!

I have a crush on someone far far away. :3 That's alright. It's safer that way, y'know?

Uh... a new Scooby Do is on. XD IT's got the new and old gang. It's kinda hilarious. But Devon is gonna be home soon... so off I go!


So I'm back. Back from the wonderful land of Sicily, from Ortigia where I could look out my window and see the sea. Mare. My beautiful blue mare and the expanse of Syracusa spread out on the mainland. Now I look out my window and see a straggly pine tree, another cookie-cutter house, and snow drifting softly to the ground. Green and brown mottled grass covered in red pine needles. Gray sky. Clear, cold air.


I got back yesterday, barely had the time to see everyone before I was gone and running off with my ride. Very happy that I had people there, but it's weird. I haven't really thought about the fact that I left Sicily. If I close my eyes I can pretend I'm still there.

The oddest thing right now is how big and wide everything is. And... dreary. Sicily is filled with color, even if it's just brown and green. When the lights go on at night it's like everything is lit with honey gold, and the green plants that survive their rainy winter make the city more lively during the day... anyway.

I think one of the strangest things about being back here is the fact that everything is so... distanced. Things in Sicily are so close and everything is squashed right up against everything else. You have virtually no privacy (I heard the downstairs neighbors having sex at LEAST four times), and your neighbors watch you as if you were something strange until they're used to you. Even sometimes after that they'll still look at you strange. It was interesting to get the other side of the card though... you know how people in America tend to have the mentality 'You're in AMERICA. Speak ENGLISH."? Well, I spoke English in Italy, and sometimes we got the look that said, 'Speak ITALIAN'. But I don't know enough Italian to get by, so I can't. I tried, but I spoke too hesitantly, too uncertainly, and they got confused. Then I get confused. Then we're both confused until I resort to just pointing, face flushed and embarrassed. Guess I won't be doing that again.

--two weeks later---

Another thing about America... there is a total and complete lack of community in the same aspect as it is in Sicily. Like, Ortigia, there are people who know EVERYONE. Not only that, but there are people who care about everyone. You shop at their store more than twice? You're like family. Here? People hardly look at you twice. I feel like in the three weeks I've been back I've regressed. The only way to get anywhere is by driving. There is no more close quarters. No more stores on every block. The houses are crammed together, and the stores are crammed together. Everything is so separated. America is supposed to be the 'melting pot' but really, I feel like it's so much worse than that. The way things are set up, you don't want to go outside and explore. In Sicily I bet I could wander in and out of other people's yards and territories and whatnot and they'd just shrug and say 'there go those exploring kids, don't they ever get tired of it?' but here, you step on the wrong lawn and you're just as likely to get yelled at as you are shot. :P

Houses are so squat. And flat. And wide. I mean, really, why do we need all this space? We DON'T. I worked fine in a kitchen half the size of the one I've got right now. I was comfortable in my tiny room with a beautiful ocean view. I saw the sun more. There were more windows. More community things going on, more festivals, people walked up and down the streets yelling and shouting and playing the squeeze box or sax (badly) or guitar and they'll talk to you if you talk to them. The vendors shout at you and the people push past and... I don't know.

It's so quiet here.

So quiet and controlled and neat. I miss the falling apart haphazardness of Sicily. I miss my buildings 6 stories high with churches on one side and stores on the other. I miss my balconies filled with green plants and cacti and palm trees, I miss the roofs that we could stand on. I miss the sun.

I got back and realized what a walking ball of stress everyone is. In America if there is no pain there's no gain, right? So the more you stress the better it is. But... no that's not right. It's not right at all.

I'm tired.

I should go to bed...


Title and icon pretty much explain how I feel about this.
Over the past 10 years if you could identify one defining moment what would that be?

Defining moment... I suppose it would be the turning point in my life. There was a time, about six months of time, where I was the most depressed I've ever been. I was 17 years old. My best friends little sister died and she changed almost completely, so it was like I lost her too, my grandmother died, and my favorite teacher died. Topping on the cake was that a family pet died too. So much death in such a short time put a lot of stress on me, and I ended up having nightmares about some troublesome times in the past. I'd wake up in a dream thinking it was reality, wake up in reality thinking it was a dream. I went months not knowing if I was awake or asleep and being afraid of being asleep because of the nightmares that came with it. But reality wasn't much better either. My mother was stressed. For the first time in my life we got into fights, and they ended up being physical. I ran away from home. I stayed at friends houses. I wandered around the city completely lost and wondered what to do, not seeing any point to leave the place I was in...

The last dream I remember distinctly. I was alone on a dark hill, there was an oak tree behind me. It was in shadow. The leaves shifted and shook with gold outlining them. In the distance there were boiling bruised clouds, thunder, lightning. I was just sitting under the tree and crying when a shadowed man with wings came up to me. He reached out a hand and pulled me into a hug and said, "I will always be here for you." That's it. Nothing else. But it was the most comforting thing to be said to me in a while.

When I woke up I knew I'd been crying, but I felt like I'd been born again. Things were still bad, but they were able to be dealt with. I wasn't dying anymore, I was going to struggle back. It was at that point that my life turned around and I started climbing out of the hole I'd been in.

That was the moment that I knew I could conquer anything. I still have trouble with it. Sometimes I get depressed... but I know that if I can survive that point in time, I can survive anything. That was a time for building strength out of loneliness and patience out of struggle. I believe that's one very big defining moment, and it came in a dream. Funny how those things work, eh?

In Italia~!

It's.. heaven. This is like, my emotional post. XD I have a blog up at www.elisabettacatania.blogspot.com if you wanna check it out. :] That's like, the itinerary, but because it's up on facebook I don't want to write anything too personal...


There is a boy. And by boy I mean a BOY. Abby. He's younger than you. DX I feel like such a cougar. I finally got up the courage to talk to him though. It was weird because every time he was near me someone got between us, over and over and over again, and then finally today I went to speak with Franca (the main office lady person) and he came in the room too~! So I jumped on the opportunity to say something.

"Doyoulikeexploring?? :D" I swear the words tumbled out of my mouth faster than I could actually speak them.

He looked a little surprised, but he was smiling so I take that as a good sign. "Huh? Do I like exploring? Depends on what kind of exploring."

"Ah well, the city, around the city, ruins..." I laughed. "The girls seem mostly concerned with shopping so I've been trying to find someone to explore with... and boys are usually more inclined to explore so I thought I'd ask you. :]" [[Little does he know that I've said the same thing to several of the girls. XD I'll have like, an exploring partner a day if this keeps up.]]

"Well yeah! I've been meaning to explore the area around here."

WIN. WINWINWINWINWIN. We chatted for a minute or two before ending on, "I'll talk to you later about it!"


I'm such a cougar, but there is NOTHING WRONG WITH LOOKING.... right? Right?? ;___; Uwaaaahh... I feel so oooold.

Anyway, that's the emotional, dreaming.... girly... yeah.


I can do this!!

I am not looking for romance. I'm not looking for romance. I'm not looking for romance. I'm not looking for romance. I'm not looking for romance. I'm not looking for romance. I'm not looking for romance. I'm not looking for romance. I'm not looking for romance. I'm not looking for romance. I'm not looking for romance. I'm not looking for romance. I'm not looking for romance. I'm not looking for romance. I'm not looking for romance. I'm not looking for romance. I'm not looking for romance. I'm not looking for romance. I'm not looking for romance.

I think, maybe, if I keep saying it as a mantra I'll go to Italy and forget about looking at boys.

Or at least forget about the chance to hook up with said boys....

Or... at least... resist the urge to maul said boys.........

I'm going to repeat it before bed every night until it gets crushed into my skull. @_@;


This song brought me out of it. I don't know how, but it did.

Writer's Block: Family Is…

What does family mean to you?

How ironic that this is the question that is up today.

Family means... support. Love. Guidance. Shelter. Acceptance.

It means laughing at the things in life that deserve to be laughed at; staying up all night talking about the important things. It means being able to get through anything, being able to defend one another and knock one another upside the head should we need it. It means that no matter what, you have someone there with you. Someone who supports and loves you and wants you to be the very best that you can be; and who encourages you, and helps you get there.

Family means discipline and firm decisions, it means that you're not allowed to get away with everything, but you are given things that you need... and a few that you want. Family means heated arguments and the tears that come after, it means understanding and struggling to understand so that the waters remain smooth. It means not pushing one another's buttons when the timing is wrong, but doing it anyway because it's what we know how to do.

Family means dysfunctionality. Everyone is dysfunctional. Every family is dysfunctional. And if your family isn't dysfunctional, that's seen as being even more dysfunctional. Family is understanding that everyone isn't perfect, and that no one knows what they're doing, and that we're all learning at the same time. It means patience and a solid foundation.

It means love. Love love love. Love despite everything that we say, everything that we do, everything that we've been and everywhere that we've gone. That's family.

Maybe a bit idealistic, but that's family.


Been sick the past couple days.
Just a little stomach thing.
Makes me sad.
That is all.