More words.

Today, my head swelled to the size of beach ball. And, believe it or not, it wasn't because of all the kind, thoughtful and encouraging comments all of you guys left me. Earlier this afternoon, a burning pressure began to build behind my eyes and then exploded into my brain, which left me so delirious, that by 4:00 someone dared to call me "Jessie" and I actually responded. Note to the universe: I HATE the name Jessie (unless I'm in 3rd grade-hi Mezz!)

I got home from work and immediately tried to go back to sleep. But, this funny thing always happens when I try to get some rest, MTV swoops in and decides to air some re-runs of "The Real World" or "America's Next Top Model" and I sit, mesmerized in front of the TV with blood-shot eyes and and a brain full of helium. Today, it was "Legally Blonde-The search for the next Elle Woods" that sucked me in. And the funny thing was, I didn't. Even. Like it.

So here I am, back at my computer. The same place I spent the last 9 mind-numbing hours. If I'm still alive by tomorrow, we will chalk it up to the 4 Ibuprofen & decongestants G lovingly fed me. That's right, people, you heard correctly. It takes 4 Ibuprofen (and sometimes an Excedrin Migraine). My Dad gave me his insomnia and my Mom gave me her migraines. Not a good combination, if I do say so myself. I forgive them, though, because they are the kind of people who will willingly spend their evening helping me plant flowers in the rain.

First of all, the comments. Let's talk about the comments, shall we? All I can say is thank you, thank you and THANK YOU for all of the encouragement and support all of you give me on a daily basis. Writing is something that eases my worries, feeds my soul and lifts my spirits. To know that someone, anyone, is actually ENJOYING what I am writing (especially when I choose to write pointless anecdotes) is heart-warming, to say the least. Thank you for reading and thank you for giving me a platform to ramble from. Up to this point, mostly everything I have written has been sarcastic, but I whole heartily look forward to the day when I can post something from a poetry journal and not immediately want to bury myself alive afterwards. I hope that someday I have the courage to do so.

Anyone who knows me, knows I am a lyric junkie. I memorize the lyrics to a song almost instantly and I repeat them back to myself often. One of my favorite songs, "Breathe" by Anna Nalick, says the following:

2 AM and I'm still awake, writing a song
If I get it all down on paper, its no longer
inside of me, threatening the life it belongs to

That song perfectly captures how I feel about writing.

Words, happy or sad; sarcastic or serious, sit like boulders in my gut. I pile them in one by one until my entire body aches with the load of them. Eventually, I have no choice but to open my mouth wide and spit them out, simply because I can't bear to carry the load any longer.

I love being able to spit them out here. Words connect us to each other in a way that nothing else can and I love that I can read your words and be reminded of my own. I love that I am not the only one who feels ridiculous sometimes, or boring and insignificant. I love that I am not the only one who feels lucky, or undeserving, or hopeful for the future. And I love that I am not the only one who feels the delirious overtaking of love, the aching pain of loss or the tingling joy of tomorrow.

So, thank you. Because your words mean something to me, too.


PS. The tree is named Petey.