It's one of those nights where I can't sleep and have fallen into a contemplative mood I guess. I've had an experience this weekend where I really need to wonder, does the body contain physical memory? I know our brains carry memory but do our bodies as well? Lately I have been wondering.
I went to a Lady Gaga concert with a male friend of mine the other day. The concert was, of course, totally amazing and I really wish I could have totally enjoyed it. But I couldn't. See, he got us VIP tickets so we were on the floor for the concert, first row closest to the stage, against this metal barrier. Which I was totally stoked about when I saw where we were. I mean it was amazing. But then, when the GA people started filing in, it began to get very crowded. My friend was pushed a little behind me, and like any guy, he decided to put his arms around me. And I felt all of his weight against my back and I was pushed up against this metal barrier. Since we're kind of interested in each other, at first it felt really nice. He held my hands and hugged me and we swayed to the music. But then, my body started to shiver and he felt too heavy and it felt as though he wasn't holding my hands but was pinning them purposely so I couldn't move. This of course wasn't the case, but it felt as though he was purposely immobilizing me. I was beginning to panic because I had only been restrained like that once before and that was three years ago. But then I was pinned against a bed with my arms restrained over my head and...but the way he was holding me, with his hands around my wrists, it felt the same way and I was suddenly terrified. I couldn't focus on Lady Gaga because I was so focused on remembering that horrible event. I literally was going to be sick and my poor friend had no idea what was going on.
He literally asked me if everything was okay and what the hell was I going to say to him? No it wasn't...he was reminding me of my ex boyfriend who forcibly restrained me and raped me? I couldn't say that...no one knows what happened three years ago and I wasn't going to tell this guy who I only just started seeing. So I lied to him and told him everything was awesome. That I was having an awesome time, when in reality, all I wanted to do was run as far away from him and his male friend as was humanly possible. And then...Lady Gaga started speaking and she went on this rant about saying "fuck you to all those people who made you feel worthless, said you weren't pretty enough or smart enough or good enough or abused you" and I just started crying because I was feeling all of those things again, just because this guy was holding me, trying to express an interest in me. Thank God he was behind me so he couldn't see me crying because I would have felt like the biggest ass in the world. It was just such a miserable and degrading thing to experience once again all these years later.
Then, this past weekend, this same friend and I were hanging out and we went to his house where he invited me into his room to check out some of his video games on his PS3. I was fine with it until I actually entered his room and sat on his bed. Suddenly, I began to feel trapped--like there was no way out. I was sitting on the edge and he was somewhat behind me, the video game controller in his hand. I was perfectly safe, but I felt terror stricken. His door was shut and his parents were out. We were alone. There was no one to help me. All I kept thinking was "it's going to happen again. It's going to happen again." I literally felt my body start to fold into itself, trying to be as small as possible. My wrists started to itch and my stomach and lower body started to feel hot. It was as though my body was reliving a horrible experience I had gone through three years ago.
It made positively no sense. I was safe. My friend was talking about some video game that he wanted me to check out and my body kept telling me otherwise. I know that if he had put a hand on me in any way--and I'm talking even a friendly gesture--I probably would have screamed bloody murder. It was the most insane experience of my entire life. I literally jumped off the bed and told him I think I should head out before it got too late. I had to get out of there. Away from him and at that moment away from any man. And of course he didn't get it--how could he--he had no idea what was going through my body--and took me to a movie. To see Resident Evil in 3-D. I had seen the first one with my ex when it first came out. It was like I was living a nightmare that just wouldn't end.
And I've been pondering those events tonight. They all started because of a simple touch. So I'm wondering, does they body have memory? Because after all these years my brain isn't focused on my ex. I'm way past him--I've had boyfriends since him. And yet all of a sudden a gesture of affection brought a maelstrom of memories and emotions raining down on me. And they're still there as I type this. My mind is still replaying these haunting moments. It's getting so bad that I won't even return the calls of my male friends. The very thought of talking to a guy right now is positively revolting to me. I don't want to see my boss or my colleagues tomorrow because they are all men. I don't want them to hug or touch me. I just want to be left alone and figure out how to deal with all these feelings. And this is from a straight girl! The brain is a strange organ, and I can understand that, but this is all because of a physical gesture. A touch.
I even googled rape and found that memories can surface years after the...what to call it...after the trauma if it wasn't dealt with at the time it happened. I didn't see a need to deal with it, I chose to just forget it. But apparently that was the wrong move. I'll have to talk to my psychologist about this entire situation, but even talking seems degrading to me. Talking about it. What the hell am I supposed to say to her anyway? Hi how's it going? Know what happened to me this past weekend? I decided I hate all men. I thought I was going to be raped by a friend of mine for no reason. It just sounds so ridiculous! But typing helps. Even though no one will probably read this ridiculously long rant. It just helps getting it off my chest. Maybe I'll even sleep tonight. Who knows.
Okay, well I'll close for now. And I'll keep wondering whether my body sparked this happening or my mind. Or maybe both combined. Or maybe, after so many Bipolar breakdowns, my psyche just isn't strong enough to keep these memories contained any longer. Maybe after my last bout of depression, the walls I've built around myself just disintegrated, and now everything is going to flood me all at once. And then I have to wonder, if this is the case, am I strong enough to deal with it? Because right now it doesn't seem like I'm strong enough to deal with anything.
Wow, it's been ages since I've been on here. So much has happened. I must apologize to my concerned friends, I had a bad spell awhile back and managed to get to worked up I threw my laptop across the room. It officially died and I was out of touch for awhile. I've finally managed to get leveled out with medication that I hope will work this time. I seriously don't think I can handle if I go into another tailspin like my last one. I didn't think I was going to come out of it.
But, medication has been changed again and I've purchased a new laptop so I'm back. Once again thank you to med_cat for all her well wishes. Thanks so much for your support and I'm so sorry if I worried you.
It feels good to be back here.
Wow, sure as hell doesn't feel like that. Finally, after a major depressive episode that lead to another brief stint in a hospital, my psychiatrist finally agreed that we need to make a switch. But, I'm actually feeling quite good at the moment.
I saw "Next to Normal" with Mel tonight. AMAZING SHOW! Ah!!!! Alice Ripley was, unfortunately, sick the night we saw the production, but her understudy was quite good. And the show was so awesome...really it was. I think I sobbed through most of it, but it was very cathartic and the music was just so amazing. My friend Jay promised to take me back and see it with Alice Ripley. So I look forward to that.
I'll write a more detailed review tomorrow. I'm too damned tired now.
So, I'm supposed to be competing down in Ashville, North Carolina this weekend for a major ballroom dance competition. My partner is already down there and I had the airline reservations all ready. However, since my dad is coming with us, he decided it would be fun to drive. "After all, we haven't been on a family road trip since Kelley was a kid," he said to my mom before I hit the confirm button on Continental's website. And, my mom readily agreed. I think they were trying to recapture moments from my childhood. Or something.
Here are just a few highlights:
They picked me up from school in NYC at about 1 pm
We sat in traffic at the tunnel
2:00 we finally got on 95
Around the Baltimore we almost got sideswiped by a huge truck. Thank God dad is a professional bus driver...I mean there are moments I want to kill myself but it's not really my intention on a family road trip...although I have the urge and it's not from Bipolar Disorder =p
My iPod dies as we enter DC. I'm stuck listening to the Beatles and mom reminiscing about how we used to drive together to Disney World and the like. I think mom's been retelling me my entire childhood.
Around 10:30 we decide we are hungry. (I think we were in Virginia at this point) and we pull into a gas station with a Subway attached. It has a unisex bathroom. Mom walked in on a state trooper peeing at the same time dad tripped over his own two feet and drops an entire tray of Subway subs on the cleaning lady.
We leave. A couple of miles down the road, said state trooper that my mom walked in on pulled us over for speeding. Even more epic, mom was driving! He was amused at het blush and just gave us a warning
Dad starts driving. We end up in Tennessee. So here's our route: NY, NJ, Del, MD, VA, NC, TN..,we were in North Carolina...the state of our destination and we somehow ended up in TN. Dad and I switch driving before he throws GPS out the window.
We stop to eat and regroup at the Omlette House. Our waitress was named Bertha, not even kidding! Dad resumes driving.
In TN we pass three churches with neon crosses outside them and a huge pepsi top that says: Pepsi is tops in Eastern Tennessee!
It's 2:44 am and we are still in Tennessee.
Ironically enough, I'm having a good time and so are my parents.
Yay for family road trips!!! =]
A whirlpool of thoughts,
A mess of emotion,
Confusion and anguish
Threaten to consume me.
Three long years,
I thought it was gone,
And now it's back,
Mem'ries stronger then before.
I cannot sleep,
I cannot think,
Thoughts drift 'round and 'round
Demanding to be noticed.
Where did this come from?
How did this door open?
I thought I locked it,
Bolted it tightly
And now, I realize
It was never bolted at all.
I had merely closed the door
And propped a chair beneath
The wobbly handle.
I childishly believed
This device would
Keep these happenings at bay.
But now, in full force,
The pain, the ache
Have all returned
So much stronger
I am at a chasm,
A waterfall roaring
Not far below me,
My mem'ries echo
Out of its watery
Depths. My feet
Are on slippery
Moss and I feel
Myself sliding forward,
My shoes loosing purchase
Against the deadly mud
I scream, so loudly
But it seems as though
I have never even
Made a sound.
The waterfall drowns
Out my voice,
Hides my screams,
Masks my pain.
I long for release,
Sweet bliss which
Would stop this
Seemingly endless slide
To my own destruction.
I need to find a balance
Sooner, rather then later,
Because later may be too late.
I might slip,
Tumble into the icy
Which will drown me,
And give me no moment
Of the peace I seek.
If only there was
Someone standing there,
Anyone near enough
To throw me a rope,
To give me their hand,
To help me pull
Myself up from the
Chasm's deadly grip.
Someone who heard
Over the rushing water
And rushed to my aid.
Someone who I could,
In an instant,
Trust without fear
Of rejection or pain.
Someone who would
And would, instead,
Offer a towel so
I could dry myself
And wipe away my silent tears.
Isn't there anyone,
Anyone at all,
Who is close enough
To help me in some small way?
So my friend Jay and his boyfriend saw the new musical Next to Normal and he was doing nothing but rave about it all day. As a huge theatre buff, I was naturally curious as to what this musical is actually about. When I asked him, he replied: "It's a musical about a woman and her family and she's suffering from Bipolar Disorder."
They want to take me to see it, since I haven't, as a way to celebrate the anniversary of our friendship. And, I'm a little confused. I don't know how I feel about seeing a musical written about Bipolar Disorder. My friends gave me the CD, which I've been listening to it. The music is good, and I've found myself stupidly crying at moments when the music hits very close to home. The music, actually, reminds me a bit of RENT. Don't ask me why, maybe because it's dealing with a real medical problem through song. Maybe because it's something of a rock based musical. Maybe the son character sounds like Roger. Or the whole theme of falling and redemption or the overriding theme of...hope? I don't know. I'm just listening to it and thinking RENT for the 21st century.
I'm glad, in the sense that this show is out there. It's bringing awareness to the issue. It's bringing Bipolar Disorder and the realness of other mental illnesses out in the open. From the music, and from Jay's description, it shows the pain and the destruction of these diseases on family. It shows how much pain both the suffer and the loved ones go through whenever an episode happens. It also illustrates the fact that, when something happens, we realize we're causing pain, but we can't help it. It hurts us as much as it hurts our loved ones. It's good, in a way, that this musical helps show it. It doesn't portray the main character, at least according to Jay-Jay, totally insane, but as a real person. Which is nice, for a change.
However, on the flip side, I don't if I really want to sit through a two hour show that sings about Bipolar Disorder and various kinds of treatment including Electric Shock Therapy and how it screws with your mind and memories. When in an episode, it's hard to realize what's real and what's a memory or a figment of my imagination. So, why do I really want to watch people singing about it when I can just throw out my meds and live through it again? To Jay's credit, he doesn't know I've got Bipolar Disorder, but even still...
And then there's my own morbid curiosity. Part of me really wants to check it out, but part of me wants to just ditch the whole personal train wreck this could turn out to be for me. It would be interesting to see how someone works through and discovers the root of their Bipolar Disorder. I think I've found mine, but I would never admit it to anyone, including my own therapist or my parents. It's too shameful and humiliating. Recently though, the incident is spinning around in my mind constantly, I'm up at night with nightmares about it. It's stupid...it was over three years ago, Junior year of undergrad, when I started to get really bad. 2007. I don't know why it's coming back now. I mean I always had the mood swings, I admit that. They go back before high-school, things were wrong in my mind. But, the whole thing--the moments of psychosis, the black swings, everything just got worse after Valentine's day of that year. But why now? Why is it coming back? Why? Why? Why?
Could a stupid musical provide answers? Could it actually give a moment of catharsis like Poetics claims good theatre should? I'm at a loss, pondering whether or not to see a Tony Award winning musical. Jesus, how far gone am I? I rush to the theatre when I can afford it...I live the theatre, so why the fuck am I pondering seeing this? Am I afraid? Am I afraid of what it might evoke within me? Is that the problem? I need to face that fear, I know that. I'm not stupid. Will I go see it? Should I go? I just don't know.
My nine year old cousin is visiting with me and my family this weekend. And, after ice skating (my body is still protesting teaching her how to skate), we drove back to my house and were playing around on the computer. She was excited to show me how good she is on facebook and all the games she plays. So, after playing farmville until I wanted to scream with a new Disney movie playing in the background, she told me about the quizzes she and her friends take and she asked me if we could take them. Glad not to be watching yet another High School Musical DVD, I readily agreed.
Now, I've seen many odd quizzes from finding your soulmate to your previous life character to when and where you are going to die, so I shouldn't have been surprised there was a quiz called: "What Mental Illness Are You?" But, I was surprised by it's roaring popularity. Katie, my cousin, told me it's a favorite of theirs to see who is crazier, but none of them really know what each thing means, so it's hard to tell and, would I please help her figure it out. Now, my curiosity was peaked so I agreed to take the test. She went first to "show me" how to do it.
The questions were some of the most bizarre ones I've ever read. There was a question that said: "What are you doing now?" And some answers were: "I forget." Or "Both of us are disagreeing" Or "a million things." Or "I can't decide." Well, after going through about three minutes worth of questions like that, you had to pass the test onto all of your friends (along with your result) and then your result was given. Well, my cousin was giggling uncontrollably when she came up as Schizophrenic, which was described as being: "the craziest of the crazies and there is no help for you...or for the voices in your head."
My amusement sobered at the cruel description of such a serious mental illness. Now, I understand these things are meant to be taken as a joke and I'm not so militant that I won't crack jokes about my own illness, but these things are aimed at the uneducated audience of pre-teens, meaning they will believe the stigmas about said disorders without a question. After all, this audience, like my cousin, have no other point of reference to which to check how factual these descriptions are, nor do they have the desire. So, as far as they are concerned, all Schizophrenics are totally crazy, have no hope of help and all hear voices in their heads.
My cousin asked me why I was suddenly frowning and I told her how unfair the test results were being to people suffering from Schizophrenia. And she said: "But it's true right?" (Her answer proved my point entirely). So I calmly explained to her that Schizophrenia was a severe mental illness and that, unlike what the game said, it can be helped, there aren't always voices and these people are more dangerous to themselves then to me or to you. She was interested to hear and then wanted to know why the game lied. I told her they bought into stigmas about the mental illness, making it very difficult for someone suffering from it to admit to it. "So, if a person suffering from any kind of mental illness admits as much to you, you should never judge them on it and you need to understand they are being very brave because games like this make it very hard for them," I said to her. (My own inner voice was calling me every kind of coward under the sun, but I chose to ignore it).
She asked me if I was mad at her for the test and I told her no, I knew it was just in good fun. But the main thing is that she understood it was all a joke, especially the descriptions of the illnesses. When I was certain she did, I started the test over and answered the questions. Well, when I got my results, (I skipped the whole share with friends thing), I must've had a horrified expression on my face because my cousin grabbed my sleeve and said: "Oh my God Kelley! What's wrong?" I couldn't believe that the stupidest of facebook quizzes, the one that was meant to randomly throw an illness at you, threw Bipolar Disorder at me. Before I could even respond to her fearful question, the irony of the situation struck me and I cracked up laughing, especially once I had gotten past the big "Bipolar" word and actually read the description, which I had to copy and paste just so I could save it. (It's in bold below).
Not only can you be majorly depressed at times, you also tend to be quite moody maybe even irritable. You can switch back in forth without giving any one any notice. Way to go you crazy person. You are too much for any one person to handle, including yourself. Why don’t you just pick a mood and go with it.
I think the last line of the description is what started my fit of laugher, or perhaps the stress of Billy's death finally got to me and I had a mini meltdown while stable. I honestly don't know the reason, but I just couldn't stop laughing. That was probably the first time that has happened to me since I was a kid. Well, my laughter was apparently contagious because my cousin joined in, but keep looking at me, completely confused. When she caught her breath she said to me: "what's so funny?" And I responded, still laughing: "I wish I could just pick a mood and go with it."
"What do you mean?" She asked, when I finally caught my breath and stopped giggling.
Well, I had successfully laughed myself into a bind. I had no way of getting out of this one, except with the truth. I figured I might as well be brave, like all of those people who came out about their mental illnesses and whom I admire greatly for doing so, "Well Kates," I said, all trace of the giggles gone, "when you have Bipolar Disorder you can't just pick a mood like the test says. I wish I could, it would make my life a lot easier."
I held my breath as I watched my cousin's face to see if she got the meaning of my words. Well, the kid didn't disappoint and she looked at me. "How would it make--woah, wait a second! Just hang on. You have that?" She pointed to the screen. I nodded. She looked back at me, a bit fearful this time. Up until now, I guess mental illness was something she had never been exposed to except for said facebook test. Suddenly, she was being exposed to it live, in person, by someone whom she loves and trusts. I think I would have been a little scared too. "But your not crazy, you're normal!"
"Just because I have a mental illness, doesn't mean I'm not 'normal.'"
"My mom says we're the same. Does that mean I have it too?"
I shook my head, finding myself both appalled and amused by her fears. "No, you don't have it."
"Is it contagious?"
"Are you sure?"
"How do you know?"
"Ask my mom and dad it they have it."
And so my nine year old cousin ran out of my bedroom yelling at the top of her lungs: "Aunt Glor, Uncle Rick, do you have Bipolar Disorder and can I catch it from hanging out with Kelley?"
All I heard was my mom saying "What?" And then she and my cousin reappeared in my room. "Kelley, what the hell are you doing?" My mom asked hotly. "And why is this child yelling about catching BP?"
I told her about the facebook test, my result and my laughing fit. Then, once my mom understood the situation, she helped me explain to my cousin just what Bipolar Disorder is as best we could in the simplest way possible. Eventually, after many questions, my cousin decided, for whatever reason, that it was kind of cool knowing someone with a mental illness. She also decided, because I'm not "crazy" like the test accused me of being, then the test was a liar and therefore wasn't something she wanted to play with her friends anymore. "And," she said, her voice filled with nine year old indignation, "when they ask me why, I'm going to say it's mean. And when they want to know why it's mean, I'm going to tell them that my cousin is Bipolar, I love her and she's not crazy. And I don't care what they say, I'm not making fun of these things any more."
After a rather Hallmark Special group hug, my cousin then decided it would be fun to take the "Mental Illness Test," get all different results and google each disorder so she could understand what they really were. Needless to say, that after googling mental illness and then watching High School Musical Three, I felt as though I had gone crazy! lol!
But, all in all, while I didn't know whether or not to be morbidly amused by the situation or appalled by it, I guess one good thing came of it. At least one nine year old has a better understanding of mental illnesses and will be more compassionate towards people who suffer from them.
I just wanted to take a moment to thank everyone for supporting me through this extremely difficult time, especially med_cat and wirral_bagpuss. Your friendship is more appreciated then I think you'll ever realize. *many hugs*
Wow, I just...I don't even know what to say, or how to react. My thoughts are jumbled, a running mess of crap mostly. I've come out of my depression, as I've stated earlier, and I called my friend Billy to tell him I've finally done it. I leveled out, like he said I would. He always said if he could become stable, it was possible for anyone. So I called him a couple of times and, it was weird, his phone kept going right to voicemail. He's a dog trainer, his phone is his source of employment, you know? And I thought it was weird...the whole voicemail thing. So I called his office, same deal, rang until it went to voicemail. "Olesky Four-Paws. We can't get to the phone right now, so leave a message. I'll call you back. Remember, don't blame 'em, train 'em." So, I left a message and then called his house.
Have you ever gotten a feeling of trepidation? You know, that cold, slippery snake of a feeling that suddenly takes place in your gut? The cold dread that you can't explain on a logical level, but you body processes...all the hairs on your body stand at attention and you're like why the fuck are they doing this? There's no rational explination for such an action. Well, that's what happened to me when I called his house and his fiancée answered. "Hey Denise, it's Kelley. How are you?"
And she went silent, totally silent on me. "Denise? You there?" I thought we had gotten disconnected or something. After all, I was on my cellphone. "Denise?"
And then I heard this whimper, you know, this faint sound that you make in the back of your throat. I started to get concerned. "Denise, is everything ok? Do you need me to come over?" They lived a town away from me and I was no stranger to their house. I spent many an enjoyable evening in their company.
"No, sweetheart, you don't need to come over."
"You sure? What's wrong?"
"I didn't want to call you because of everything going on with you and now I feel--"
"Didn't want to call me about what?"
Then she started crying. "Billy's dead sweetheart. Billy's dead."
I don't remember my actions, everything was so foggy. I must've asked her how or something like that because her next words chilled me to the bone and caused me to be physically sick. "He took his own life."
At that moment, all I remember are my boss's strong arms coming around my torso and pulling me against him. Apparently, in the words of Doctor Watson, "I must have fainted for the first and the last time in my life." The phone was on the floor and my boss was frantically asking what was wrong. When the haze lifted, I grabbed my cellphone only to find Denise frantically saying my name. I assured her I was all right, gave my condolences and asked if there was anything I could do for her. Her answer made me shudder. "I know you two were close, but I am going to ask you a favor."
"Anything," I replied.
"Don't follow in his footsteps, okay? I don't want that and I know he wouldn't have either."
I mumbled something, I don't remember what and hung up with her. After that, my boss drove me home. I still don't know what to think, I haven't processed it. I don't want to process it. I don't even want to think about it. How could someone so stable, so enthusiastic, someone who was a cheerleader against Bipolar Disorder...he was always saying: "I beat it. I beat it." How could this happen? How?
During class today, we had to walk to the Museum of Natural History to spend some time in the gem and mineral display, attempting to connect, on some level, to the beauty found in that room. Well, it was an interesting and profound experience for me. Walking to the museum, I had to opportunity to spend some time with Ellen Goldman, our professor. To her, I was always a wily whelp with a wildly independent streak and my own set of rules that I followed. Mind you, to her that is not a bad thing and she has found my outre sense of what authority actually is as quite charming and amusing.
As we were walking, she had asked me what I thought of the trees we were passing and I remarked that they were trees and I didn't have an opinion about them either way. Well, she was greatly amused by this, accused me of being a wiseass (which I wasn't) and then proceeded to ask me how I came to my brilliant deduction. I told her I simply did. What was I suppose to say about trees? She then said something interesting to me. She had said: "So, are you always this linear in your thinking or do you deviate? Because I know you're creative, I've read your poetry." I shrugged. "I think I'm always this linear." Then she said to me: "Why don't you try living life in it's moments instead of looking at the whole picture. Did you ever have a profound moment in nature that you want to tell me about?"
I thought for a moment, not being the real outdoor type and then a moment from my sophomore year in college pulled itself from the depth of my subconscious. It was a bad rain storm, and I was with my hero, Cheryl. She had just pulled me out of class so that I could walk through the rain with her and observe nature to it's fullest. I remembered how impassioned Cheryl got over watching the trees sway and bow beneath the great gusts. She was also fascinated by the pathway the raindrops took falling off the leaves and onto our upturned faces. At the time, I didn't consider these things, I just considered the fact I was standing in the pouring rain in a dance shirt and sweats getting soaking wet while my lunatic professor prattled on about the beauty of the storm. I shared this experience with Ellen today and she smiled at me.
"What did you think about it? How did you feel?"
I told her that I felt wet and cold, but she prompted me further, to reveal the fact I felt a glimmer of pride. After all, Cheryl had dragged me, out of all her students, to study raindrops and wind gusts. Ellen told me, then, to think about that moment as we walked through Central Park.
I did, and it was a gradual thing, but as we crossed the park, for the first time, I started seeing the beauty of the trees. I realized how each individual branch is shaped, the twisting diameters. I felt the warmth of the sun on my skin, which was a sharp contrast to the bitingly cold wind. The snow banks were dazzlingly white and Ellen helped me to find the various shapes within the icy structures. The experience was truly an eyeopening one. And, to my utter joy, as we were walking out of the park, the great bows of the trees danced for me, in much the same way they had danced for me and Cheryl a few years ago. This time, instead of feeling the coldness of the air, I saw the beauty of their dance and I smiled.
After viewing the Agate stone in the Museum of Natural History, this poem came to me.
A nucleus, a center,
To reveal its beauty
You must go deep underground.
Peel back the harsh stone,
Chip it away,
The orange enfolded story
Has much to say.
It's mislabeled as "common"
Which means it's well know,
But I disagree
Because its story it's own.
This gem's much like me,
It's common and not
I'm multifaceted too
But, well, at times it's forgot.
We are quite the same,
Exteriors that are strong and tough
But below our surfaces,
We're anything but rough.
We're smooth and we're different,
With much to say,
If you want to learn secrets
Our outsides, we dare you, to chip away.
And, after looking at geometrical forms, this poem came to me:
A shifting mass,
That feels so strange.
More accessible then ever,
Building blocks of structure,
A break in the chain
Causes this delicate form to rupture.
But it won't break,
It can't be destroyed,
Every new shift
Is a discovery deployed.
A new solid mass,
Stronger then before,
Each more of shape change
Opens the door
To an inner outer flow
Which brings nature so near,
Who would ever have guess geometry
Would be in things we hold so dear?