The Objects Of My Distraction 

Over the past two months or so, I haven’t really written anything…I’ll be honest…I’ve been ‘neglecting’ my love of writing by not really writing much at all. I used to think that inspiration would just hit and I could write something that came to mind just like that, but that’s the problem…Inspiration doesn’t always strike at the right time, and right now is no exception. Yeah, I’m writing but that doesn’t necessarily mean I’m inspired by some force other than myself…No, I’m just determined and motivated to make a change for the better.

I’ll be honest, I miss writing on this little blog of mine. I really do. You’re probably asking why I haven’t been writing and I have the answer…I found myself too busy with work/life/everything in between and unusually unmotivated to write at all…It’s honestly pretty terrifying, going from writing almost all the time, to finding yourself hardly writing at all. I find it kind of upsetting that I put something I adore on the back-burner as such, but I suppose that things you love have to become accustomed to the backseat sometimes.

Now that we’ve established that I’ve neglecting my passion of writing and what not (only to resurrect it back from the flames of its undying glory), let me just say that I’ve kept it in the dark for a good reason…A little thing called Life decided to struck like lightning and insisted on staying longer than expected. Through all the so-called torrents of rain and chaos that come with Life, there are always silver linings and rays of perpetual sunshine. Yes, I know what you’re thinking…Did she really just type that? Truth is, yes I did. It just came to mind and formed into words on this entry you’re reading, but yes it’s the honest-to-something truth.

These past three months sure have been an adventure to say the least. It’s safe to say that I now know what getting seven staples in the back of my head feels like, both put in and taken out…I know that just by that statement right there, the question of ‘What the hell?’ comes to mind, correct? Well, let me make a long, very fuzzy story short…And believe me, it was fuzzy because I don’t really remember it happening. Without sugar-coating any of this story, I fainted at work (how? the world may never know…), thus hitting the back of my head on the cold concrete that makes up the foundation of our lovely stockroom. Needless to say, I was rushed to the emergency room, not far from where I work, and my work day (and week for that matter) was cut short. But the tale will not be complete without adding all the parts that were not so fuzzy, right? Thankfully, I do remember everything after I fell, just not really the actual falling part. Go figure.

The worse part of the whole ordeal was the neck brace and endless waiting at the hospital. Yes, its standard procedure when dealing with head/possible neck injuries that the patient is fitted with a neck brace, which are very uncomfortable I might add. You did hear right…The worst part was the awkward neck brace and all the waiting around, somewhat, if not totally unsure…Not the actual process of finding out that you indeed need staples and that someone is actually going to be stapling the gash in your head closed with said staples. The ambulance ride to the hospital from the store where I work seemed to be somewhat of a blur. I remember being asked multiple times what happened by the EMS gentlemen before and after I entered the ambulance and honestly, I was starting to get frustrated and kind of pissed off…Yes, I indeed know my name, date of birth and all of that. Yes, I know where I work, that I indeed did faint, and that I am bleeding from a gash in my head. All of this I’m fully aware of, just not the full extent of the situation. The very reason why I’m going to the hospital. I can’t say that I blame them though, asking me those questions was just the standard, everyday protocol and I wasn’t really objecting to any of it…Mainly because I couldn’t, thanks to the neck brace and I just wanted to not move at all.

After a series of x-rays and such, I was informed that my head/neck/spine and any other parts of my body that would’ve been affected by the fall were totally fine, and that I could go home once the gash in my head was taken care of. Thanks to the advances in modern medicine, (and the fact that my loving mother and boyfriend were there, making me laugh and being the best distractions…) the only thing I felt was a little bit of pressure from the staples as they were going in. Yes, my mom and boyfriend were both there, keeping me company and listening to me complain about how much the neck brace sucked something awful. 10, maybe 15 minutes give or take some minutes later, I was on my merry little way. In pain nonetheless, with seven staples in my head and careful instructions on how to care for them and that I should be back in about 7 to 10 days to have them removed, but all in all, peachy keen…Peachy keen with a bloodstain on the neck of my pink and black flannel, a promise of whatever I wanted to eat and absolutely no explanation for why I fainted. Yes, you heard right. No explanation. Apparently, my blood work showed no levels of anything out of the ordinary and as far as everyone could see, I was perfectly ‘healthy’. Sitting here now writing this, I still have absolutely no idea what exactly made me faint that Tuesday in November, but it is safe to say that I’m one step closer to getting my health in check and under control, via the reason why ‘healthy’ was written as such.

Let’s face it: I’m not a shining beacon of perfect health. No one is. We all have our fair share of things that are wrong with us and I’m no exception…Now, enough of my droning on and back to what I was saying before…I’m one step closer to getting my health under control because, honestly, if it’s not one thing, it is indeed another. First let me just make a long story very, very short and cut to the chase. I have had asthma for as long as I can remember and I spent the majority of last year being told that I have/don’t have something called Crohn’s Disease, only to find out in November that I indeed do have the illness…

Please, before you continue reading this, don’t feel sorry for me. Please. I honestly hate when people feel sorry for me just because I have health issues. Everyone has health issues. I’m actually beginning to wish that everyone in this world could just be 100% sickness/illness/disease-free, that’s how sick I am of everyone having something wrong with them. People I know that could be used as poster children for perfect health suddenly have some kind of random health issue that you honestly never thought they would have. It’s just scary. The whole world just needs to be healthy already…Yes, I know I’m going on and on and what I’m asking for will probably never happen in this lifetime, but what the hell? It honestly doesn’t hurt to hope every once in a while.

…As I was saying before I went on about my feelings toward health, I have Crohn’s Disease. It’s honestly kind of weird because this around this time last year, I was dealing with it…I just had no idea what it was called and I seriously had my doubts that I even had the said illness. Once again, making a long story short, I had surgery on my stomach last year (one of the main reasons there were practically no entries for the months of May and April) and after that, I thought that I was pretty much cured of any and all stomach issues that had been plaguing me for some time, but of course that wasn’t the case. One minute, I was being told I had Crohn’s Disease and the next, I was being told I didn’t. As it turns out, every doctor looks at things differently because, well, no two doctors are the same. Sure, they practice the same thing, but let’s face it: They all have their own way of looking at things and giving their honest, educated opinions. Why was this such a big deal? My surgeon was completely convinced that I didn’t have the disease because everything came back negative after the surgery, and I honestly agreed with him. I wasn’t really going to second-guess someone who just spent roughly 5 or 6 hours cutting and sewing my stomach back into its correct state of being. My gastroenterologist was still convinced that I had the disease…And sure enough, some odd months later and almost a year after my surgery, I find out that I, do indeed, have Crohn’s Disease…Apparently, I had the intestine-inflaming illness the entire time, the fact that I needed surgery just masked the fact that I had it. Go figure. If it isn’t one thing, it surely is another.

Steering away from all the negativity, it’s safe to say that trying to keep my health in check hasn’t yet stopped me from putting my other passion on the back-burner. Music. Yes, if you’ve had the chance to read one of my many random music posts, you’d know how much I love music and love to write about it. Call it nerdy or whatever you want, but once again, I don’t care. Music and writing are my passions and that is that. These past three months, I’ve found that I’ve definitely broadened my horizons on the music front. I’m always trying to listen to something new whenever I can and now is no exception. There are a lot of bands that I’ve fallen in love with and some that I’m re-discovering, but there are two that I’ve found myself listening to a whole lot lately: The Damned Things and Florence + The Machine. I would go on and on about both musicians and other musicians that I’ve just recently fallen in love with or have been involved with for some time now, but I feel like I need a bigger space to express such findings…Which I fully intend to sooner or later. 🙂

There are more than likely a lot of other things that have been going on in Noelle’s little world of chaos and excitement…I just can’t for the life of me think of anything else that could be of any real importance right now or appropriately fit in with everything I’ve said so far. Granted, I’ve written things of no significance before and probably pieced different topics together hundreds of times, but still. I’m trying to make a change for the better this year, no matter how cheesy it sounds. As I’ve said before, I love writing and I honestly don’t want to see it become charred on the back-burner again. It just wouldn’t be cool, not one bit. Fear not, possible followers of this blog, there will most definitely be more to read. Without a doubt, there will be more to substance on this little piece of sanity I call my blog.

These are the objects of my distraction…Plently more where those came from, and finding more and more everyday.

Oh, That Shining Realization 

A couple of months ago, well sometime last year (if you want to be critically technical and correct) I wrote about how there was the unbreakable camaraderie that my friends and I shared some long time ago. I now realize that maybe it’s better that bond decided to break.

I honestly think that if I was still friends with the majority of the individuals I was some now 6 or 7 years ago, I would amount to nothing. Yeah, that sounds a bit harsh but, that’s just the way I see it. I think that if we’d all kept in touch, it would either be the greatest thing in the world or the greatest personal tragedy. As much as I used to love them all, I think it would have been a complete downfall.

You’re probably wondering why I’m talking about people I used to love so dear and care about almost with my life so bitterly, and I have the perfect answer. I’ve seen the kind of people they’ve become. I know they say everyone changes and indeed everyone does, but it seems to be so different now. Looking back at who we all used to, and who we are now, it’s safe to say that I’m relieved to know that we’ve lost our hold on each other. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.

I think I’ve finally come to the conclusion that I don’t need them. I don’t need certain people around me just to get through my every day, just to breathe. Sure, there are sometimes when it could hurt, the fact that they’re not here mainly, or where I miss them, but I then I wonder…Do they feel the same? If I had to take a good, educated guess, I would have to say no. I often wonder what it would be like, if we all remained friends, if nothing changed at all, but then I realize that I don’t think I would have it any other way.

It’s better that they’re not in my life anymore. It’s better that they’re just fleeting memories. It’s not like we would talk like we did back then, when things seemed endless, almost untouchable. Some 2 years ago, when we were in a sense ‘reunited’, there was this feeling of emptiness in the worse kind of way between us all. Granted, the circumstances weren’t exactly pleasing, but still. It was the greatest shock of my natural life so far that day, to be struck with the news that impaired me to feel and to be among the ones I once felt about so dear.

After all the useless calculating and grinding of memories and thoughts in my head, it all comes down to the one solid fact: I’m so glad I don’t associate with the people I used to. I think that if I did, then I wouldn’t be the type of person I am today. I think I would more than likely become the type of person I don’t really like, someone who I honestly couldn’t see myself being. For what might be better and at the same time possibly worse, I’m who I am and no so-called friend can change any of that. I’m just happy I realized that before I started to actually care too much.

Oh, that shining realization…Better late then never.

Newsflash From “Heaven”: I’ve Descended Into “Hell”

There’s something that makes every one of us on this Earth question things that we don’t understand, can’t understand or just simply refuse to…Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think that it’s safe to say that the concept of religion has always been something that’s second-guessed or questioned.

And if I question that, then what kind of person does that make me?

I honestly never used to question religion. It just wasn’t something that was questioned. You just go with it, and think that it’s something you personally believe. After awhile, it’s all you’re willing to believe. No one can change your mind; your heart is set on that way of life. It can turn you into something you’re truly not, while on the other hand can bring a whole new perspective on things. Which ever you may choose, there’s always questions that will arise that are going to make some wonder and others won’t even pay attention to.

I first started to question religion, being the foundation for my day-in, day-out education at school. I’d been at a Catholic school from Kindergarten to the first half of the 6th grade, and being at a Catholic school, I’d have to go to church every Friday with the rest of my class. There wasn’t an option of not going, and I honestly didn’t mind. We would be rewarded if we were good, anyway. I remember in Kindergarten, I literally thought the priest at my school’s church was a cannibal. I literally thought that when he said the “body and blood”, he really did mean the body and blood of someone. How crazy is that? Really?

What kind of person does that make me?

I began to ask questions about the religion that I’d learned about five days a week and sometimes on Sundays. Whether the questions made sense or not, I have no idea. They probably made absolutely no sense, the reason why no one could give me a straight answer. The questions made all the sense to me though. If Jesus died for everyone’s sins, why do people still sin? I distinctly remember that was one of the questions I’d asked. Yeah, a pretty stupid question. All my teachers probably thought it was, or maybe they thought I was crazy or something. I look back on that now, and think that it was a pretty foolish, but it also makes me realize that any other outrageous question I had would be let right in with all the eagerness, only to be shot down for being utterly stupid.

Now what does all this grade-school reminiscing have to do with my feelings toward religion now? It proves that there are questions that either can’t be answered or are being pushed under the rug. Let’s face it, who wants to believe in something that can’t be answered or proven? I don’t mean to judge anyone here. What the next person believes may not be what I believe, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna jump down their throats about it. That would just be ignorant, and I absolutely hate ignorance. People are more than entitled to have their own beliefs and opinions, despite what other individuals think or say. I firmly believe in that, and truly have the utmost respect for that fact.

I would be much more comfortable knowing that what I’m believing in is, well, worth believing in. Sometimes, I believed that there possibly could be a God, but there are things that come in the way me truly accepting that fact. There are facts and reasonings that are so hypocritical and no way near logical. Say one thing and it doesn’t add up to what’s being said next…Yeah, that makes a hell of a lot of sense…I myself have a hard time agreeing and believing everything I hear because it all just doesn’t sit right with me as a whole. I suppose somethings could be plausible, but that still leaves others unaccounted for and to me, that isn’t good enough.

What kind of person does that make me?

I’ve been asking that question all though this post…What kind of person does that make me? Honestly, it makes me a goddamn human being. Most would say that questions and questioning isn’t the way to go because it will either get you nowhere or everywhere you don’t want to be, but I don’t find that the case. People don’t know if there is indeed a ‘Heaven’ or ‘Hell’ because no one has ever been there. Some are so fixated on something they’ve been feed throughout the years or what have you, and can’t comprehend that maybe there isn’t anything after you die. Maybe there is just nothingness, a creeping sense of darkness that’s just out of our reach with every passing second. Maybe not. ..Does death scare me? Damn right it does. Do I believe in something after death? I’m not sure. There could be something amazing beyond anything we’ve ever seen above and something else amazing in quite another sense of the word way down below, but who am I to know? Exactly. I have absolutely no idea and I think it’s best that way.

If people really (and I mean really truly) knew what happens when you die, they wouldn’t take any risks. If people knew what happened when you die, they wouldn’t be living. The entire point of living is taking risks and taking whatever comes at you, not matter the speeds or intensities. I think that knowing where you’re going to go when you die, totally dictates one’s risk-taking and therefore the entire concept of Life. Some people live that way already out of faith or whatever you choose, and that is entirely their choice. I have absolutely nothing against people with healthy convictions in what they believe in. I think it’s the best thing in the world, please just don’t try to press it on me. While some completely discreet and totally polite about brandishing their beliefs, not pressuring others at all, there are other people that think they know everything that the afterlife has to offer (or religion in general for that matter), down to every detail and I personally don’t believe any of it. Yeah, that probably sounds pretty bad, but notice the things I’ve said so far. My brutal, honest opinion.

I honestly don’t believe what people have to say about what it will be like when you die because they don’t know, they’ve never been there. No one knows, no ones ever been there. Unless of course with the exception of a near-death experience, that’s the closest thing to the afterlife you can get without feeling death unfortunately pull you out of this natural life permanently. Other than that exception, I don’t believe.

I love how the subject goes from the disbelief concerning religion to the disbelief an afterlife. They’re two different subjects that sometimes (maybe more often than none) become intertwined and discussed on the same playing field. I suppose that this is no exception to the conversations on the subjects that came before it. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. I honestly don’t know.

When all is said and done, I just don’t believe…Yeah, it might sound like I’m just another teenager (technically I’m not really a teenager anymore, but whatever) who listens to death metal and is ‘brainwashed’ by the ‘Satanic’ lyrics, but I’m here to clarify. While I do listen to my fair shares of black/death/heavy metal, my musical preferences in no way impact my views on religion or the afterlife, as which was mentioned earlier…Or rather there isn’t anything good enough for me to believe in. That probably sounds pretty arrogant and whether arrogance plays a part at all or not, it’s true. I don’t think it’s that there’s nothing good enough for me to believe but actually nothing I feel comfortable really believing in. Hopefully there will come a time when I find something that I indeed feel comfortable enough with to believe in without questioning or second-guessing. Until then, only time will tell.

So I ask you now, as I’ve been asking throughout this entire post…

What kind of person does that make me?

Newsflash from “Heaven”: I’ve surely descended into “Hell”.

My Friend Of Insomnia 

I can’t sleep. It’s almost 2 in the morning and my eyes are wide open. Unfortunately, this isn’t something new. I find myself struggling with the awkward, stubborn Insomnia more than usual. I probably should go to sleep, lay in bed and give into the cliché of counting sheep, or listen to my Ipod or read. Reading always puts me to sleep, but I haven’t been in a reading mood in a while.

I’m just sitting here.

My dark red chair feels comfy at this time in the morning, more comfy than usual. I find myself sitting in it, listening to HIM’s cover of Blue Oyster Cult’s “Don’t Fear The Reaper” and searching for a picture for the next project I have in art class. Coincidentally, I’ve chosen a picture of HIM lead, Ville Valo. I thought I would stand out as far as pictures went, not to mention that the picture is beautiful. But that is for another day…

I feel like my mind is easily wandering this morning, more than any other time it wanders. I’m thinking about an array of different things at once. A doctor’s appointment I have today at 3 o’clock this afternoon and a paper for my Senior Seminar class due tomorrow (Friday). It’s almost finished, and my plans of completing it today just didn’t happen. I should work on it now, but I’m not in the right frame of mind to write something for school. I honestly can’t think of school right now, it’s just not what’s important at this time of the morning. In another 6 hours of course, but not now. What’s important now, is that I’m gently swooning to the ever-changing music on my Dell. Right now being “Mute” by Blaqk Audio, in 3 minutes or more being something else. My inability to listen to one song for too long has set in. It’s now “Warmness On The Soul” by Avenged Sevenfold. Strangely, this song is longer than the last, but it’s definitely more soothing. I think that in the battle of techno-electronica beats and pianos/old-school breakdowns, the latter is always the unlikely champion. Especially at this time of morning.

I’ve listened to the same song 3 times already, trying to convince myself to go to sleep. Give into the skillfully played piano, old-school sounding guitar solo and strange beauty of M. Shadows’s voice in the early days of their career. I’m pretty sure the play count has been upped to about seven or eight by now. Okay, the play count is probably higher, but I’m honestly not counting.

Before I descending into my room (literally), I was watching the shows Man vs. Wild and Monsters Inside Me. The episode of Monsters was a case of déjà vu from the beginning of the school year because it was the exact same episode I’d seen the first time I watched it. I watched it anyway, and it still creeped me out. The thought of a parasite living inside someone is disgustingly stomach-churning. I hadn’t seen the episode of Wild, although I think my dad did. Not too sure. I love how in the beginning of the show it’s Man vs. Wild with Bear Grylls. Curious to see if Bear was actually his name, I looked it up. No. Bear isn’t his real name. His name is actually Edward. That would’ve been pretty interesting if Bear was indeed his real name.

“Warmness On The Soul” passed by faster than it did all the other times it played, and I’m missing it. I could play it, but I’m too lazy. And tired. I’m feeling myself give into the sleepiness that I didn’t think I had in me, or maybe it’s because HIM is playing again. I find the latter to be the unlikely cause and the tiredness the more likely. It would make sense if I got some sleep. I would be able to focus and my mind wouldn’t be yelling at me every time I try to close my eyes. It would make a lot of sense if I got some sleep.

Right now, at nearly 4 o’clock in the morning on this Thursday, I’m listening to “Razorblade Kiss” by HIM and strongly considering going to bed. I might just let my mind wander, taking in Ville’s amazing voice, thinking too many thoughts.

I’m still sitting in my dark red chair, going on my second listening of “Razorblade Kiss”, regretting that I’m actually on my second listen. I know I’ll regret it a couple hours from now, but at least I can say that it was Ville’s voice that helped put me to sleep.

Insomnia is like chain-smoking. It doesn’t benefit you.