The truth...

sitting under the covers, I realize how much i adore listening to Jeff Buckley. No modern voice can make audible my inner murmurs better than he. There are some days that I dispise myself for not writing more....perhaps if I wrote I would not have so much to think about everyday..... perhaps if I wrote, it would almost be as if the person I needed to tell was hearing it from my lips...and then it would be ok. I write alot in my written journal.... things I would never post on here, things that would be irrelevant and silly, things a bit to heavy and droll...but my heart longs to be creative....and vocal. Venting is good....neccessary even. I don't ever want to bottle up everything I think about and never get it out...because then it still comes out, but all at once and usually ends BAAAAAD hahaha. Hence this blog, work....here...frustration...here...almost everything gets vented on here when it needs to be... some stuff other people don't need to read though HA

I challenge myself to express it through my photography...and I wonder if anyone sees it? I want my photos to evoke the frustration and isolation that I sometimes feel. And joy, wait, yes, I DO do the joyful thing sometimes too... I used to use the moniker Preoccupy...as I felt that was all I seemed to be doing with myself...and I feel that way lately...working myself into the ground to keep my hands busy and my mind alert... I spend too much time preocculying myself...wasting time... I feel like I need something, yet am too stubborn to admit it. Focus, Carrie... on something important.

You know what else works well? Push-ups. FOR REAL! hahahah Must be the blood rush to the brain...(i say this after 10 )

Sometimes I think that I think too much...

Fuck it, I am going on vacation somewhere tropical very soon....
and learning to sail...