Aching for a Command

My failures, at an instant, are signals of defeat.
Today, I’m tired of waving that white banner indicating a retreat.
because what’s retreat if you’re maintaining your very same position,
riding out the tidal waves, bearing no new acquisition?
My stagnant soul tires and screams, “Where is it I should go?”
While restless hands assist my sleepless eyes with the promise not to close.
Every gaze from your eyes reminds me of mistake,
reminds me of intermittent effort,
the trust I always seemed to break.
But I promise to fall slave to making these recurring  amends,
all the while losing sight as our love slowly descends.
I pray nightly for lacking lost cause, I hope only for ascension,
a passion powerful and true to hold us in suspension.
Give me something undeniable, words that speak truth
otherwise pull me from this frozen state;
!basta ya!, genug ist genug.

Brand New

I woke up to the sun caressing my arms and face,
It’s soft voice spoke out “These are careless days!”
“I will melt away the snow carrying your faults and defeat,
these rays will cleanse and rebuild replacing gray with green.”
For months my sheets held captive this body needing repair,
now the medicine is in the earth, the sun, the trees, the sky, the air.
I’ll skip my morning rituals so I can get to you in haste,
run weightless through the crowded streets not a second more, I’ll waste.
Your door stands lacking emotion, you bring life to the entryway,
I brought for you the sun, puddles left by winter hell, and a new day.
As I grab your wrist you smile ready for the spring to bind us closer,
we’ll run as we years before, forgetting to grow older.
The east holds nothing for us, so we’ll only travel west
inviting the sun to light the path of something more adventurous.
Your eyes reflect forgiveness that’s bleeding for me to accept
that there is no chance of regretfulness, only love lacking contempt.

Funny? How Migraine?!

Yesterday was my very first day at Rapid Response.  My nerves are always really shotty in those circumstances, so with the help of the amazing weather on Sunday, I took Casey to Ann Arbor for some window shopping, Bubble Tea, and a strut through the  Nichols Arboretum. This, of course wore me out by the time I got home causing me to carelessly throw my purse and it’s contents on the floor next to the front door, run upstairs to my disgustingly humid room, and pass out on my bed without lifting the sheets.  Anyhow, I woke up in the middle of the night from a dream about a wolf standing outside of my window in the storm, snarling at me in preparation for an impossible leap to my window.  It was ridiculous, so ridiculous in fact that upon waking up, I puked in my hands as a result of an immediate migraine.
Anyways, fast forwarding to the morning of my first day.  I took my medication for my broken head without food, because that would birth the start of incessant vomiting.  My medication has recently started having more of a dulling effect on my migraines, and less of a diminishing effect so I had to suck it up and be a body without a brain in orientation. Of course there are only 3 other people there, so my ops director is instructing less than 2 feet away from us and involving me in every conversation and asking me every question humanly possible.  Like I said, during this entire thing, I was a body without a brain.
My migraines start out as some sort of strange neurological malfunction. I lose my peripheral vision entirely, the left side of my body starts to numb, and it becomes very difficult for me to form sentences like an educated adult.  After the actual headache starts, it seems as though my left frontal lobe taps into my subconscious and strange “later thoughts” and “before thoughts” start spewing from my mouth without filter. Actually, I’ll just say really anything.
So here I am, participating in conversations with the most ridiculous comments… somehow relating zombie apocalypses to the DriveCam, and announcing that “I have to pee” to a group of strangers. At one point in time, I believe that I grabbed my purse and left the room.  When my Ops Director told me I could not leave, I shook my fist at him.
Towards the end of the day, I tried again to take my medication with the addition of Excedrin. I almost immediately returned to earth giving me the opportunity to explain my flighty self to this guy who probably thinks I’m a crazed lunatic.  Luckily for me, I was a hit and riot at Orientation and was apparently loved by Ops, and my fellow soon-to-be co workers.
“Make sure you take your psycho meds before coming in on Thursday.” -Justin, Ops.

Round 2: Thursday.  Hopefully I can be my normal self without a migraine inhibiting my flakiness.

Dunmurry, Northern Ireland

  In 65 days, I will begin my "see the world" adventure with a two week stay in Dunmurry, Northern Ireland.  This vacation could not have been planned for a better time. 

  I recently broke off a four year relationship with a man whom I had anticipated to be my husband.  Even though this is supposed to be a blog, and I'm supposed to organize my most intense feelings at this particular moment in time, I just don't really feel like getting into hairy details.  I just feel like resuming this zombie-numb state of being for as long as possible. I'm sure a few days down the road, that post will be a sloppy mess of girly emotions.  I may be some sort of train wreck, but until then... I'll just set up camp in the Twilight Zone. 

  So being that I am anticipating a major breakdown and loss of direction, I of course need something to hold me together.  That something is Dunmurry and Brittany Robinson.  The thought of touching down on the Emerald Isle and being greeted by my dear friend whom I haven't seen in almost a year is almost euphoric. 

 I shut my eyes and just imagine: My sixteen hour plan ride is nearing its destination.  I feel my right butt cheek going numb from leaning my body against the window.  As I open my eyes from the longest nap of my life, all I see is green.  I can already feel my heart beating to jump out of my chest to get a look for itself, so I cross my arms to hold it in place.  Finally the airplane stops and I jump out of my seat unsteadily.  My legs haven't recovered from such a long rest so they struggle to hold my body's weight.  I am however determined.  I grab my carry-on backpack and shove the garbage from my snacks in my pockets and impatiently stand behind the short lady who isn't paying attention as the line advances out of the plane. She is still standing, reading a magazine. Finally she realizes the clear exit and looks at me apologetically. I return the expression with a smile and we scurry out of the exit.  
   Outside, the fresh air steals away my breath with an evergreen kiss and I feel a strange sense of comfort.  I see Brittany's face, and I feel at home.  My second home away from Michigan.

Until my travel,
B.Thompson

22 For the First Time

  Not too long ago (about an hour and a half ago to be exact) I awoke with incredible cotton mouth and a freezing right leg.  I noticed upon opening my eyes 2 things;  a huge almost full moon staring at me through a large 3 panel window, and the strange notion that this 3 panel window is not a characteristic of my bedroom.  Obviously panic-stricken, I sober up from sleep just enough to conclude that I am not home and have no idea where I am.  At this point, I can't really think rationally due to the stinging of my bladder and pressure on my lower abdomen.  I have to pee for 4 days.  Again panicked, I cannot just get up and go because I don't know where I am, so what is stopping me from thinking that there aren't dozens of mousetraps lined up on the floor next to the couch for me to step in? Or maybe the floor isn't finished at all, that the carpet hasn't been laid and maybe the nails are exposed and ready to impale innocent feet? These are very rational fears at this point.  My next plan of action is to grab my phone to shed some light on the room.  I sigh at the relief of recognizing familiar furniture and breathing Apple products sporting mustaches.  For some reason, I am more than a little bit disappointed with myself, as I thought that waking up in an unfamiliar apartment was going to be an adventure.  I pictured myself crawling around (as to prevent squeaky floorboards from protesting the stranger) looking for clues as to my very own whereabouts and piecing together how I got here.  I guess it's somewhat of a relief to realize I'm just at M&K's, and probably fell asleep watching a movie.  In fact, that's exactly what I did.
  So as you may have gathered from my previous paragraph, I turned 22 today (sarcastically).  I know, there's nothing monumental about a 22nd birthday. But who's to say, that today should go unnoticed? Imagine for a second I hadn't been born at all.  Maybe you wouldn't have suffered being annoyed by an anarchist cheerleader for 4 years, or been dumped for being "like a brother to me." Maybe you would have never've kissed another girl behind your girlfriends back, or played barbies until you were almost in 8th grade.  You may not think of a perfection when you think of me, yet some part of me believes your lives are all a little better or worse for knowing me.  Whichever way it goes, I made an impact. And needless to say, I'm glad I was born.
  I was born into an amazing family, and had the pleasure of knowing so many people that I'd like to call my friends.  I graduated with a class of individualists who I now Facebook stalk and am glad to see them making their own little families,  protesting the government, and getting a 'much needed' college education.
  Anyhow, back to the story.  Remember how I said I pulled out my phone, said "LUMOS" and magically the room lit up (or something like that?) Well, I had remembered it was my birthday secondary to a couple of friendly text messages from people who thought to either refuse to conform to the ways of Facebook, or wanted to be a little bit more personal in their birthday wishes.  Thanks for reminding me at 1, 2, and 3 AM. I sincerely mean that.
  So, back to the story behind the story (if you even decide to read on with my ramblings): For some reason the realization of my 22nd year really threw the desire to meditate on me.  So I laid on the couch once more and decided to think on my goals.  The ones I've had in the past and present... those in which I've failed to accomplish... new ones... that sort of thing.  So to save my rambling, the long and short of everything is this; every goal I have ever set and (decidedly) will set revolves around the idea of becoming a better person for other people.  I always believed that one of my severe downfalls was my selfishness. Becoming an adult scared me because I was afraid that my free will would be exercised by my narcissism.  Currently, this is my largest fear.  That goes without saying that I have faltered at this many times.  I am just as imperfect as the next person, but hey, I'm trying.

I guess the point in all of this, is that if you decide to think of me on my Birthday, maybe pray that I can succeed in this sense.  I understand that this is a perpetual goal, however it is most important to me and I have all of the time in the world anyhow.

and here's a 5 AM toast with my bottle of water to having fun and living life with other people in mind, and not at their expense. To earning wisdom as it's deserved and growing without regression. And for once and for all, easing up and have a stupid good time without worrying.

B. Thompson