a-walk-in-the-park-on-a-rai-blog

[a-walk-in-the-park-on-a-rai-blog]

Rock + Roll - Eden

Does it get easier?

No... yes, it gets easier.

Oh yeah?

/

Sex, drugs, and rock and roll - that's all I want.

What's under the words you know - that's all I want.

Something more than superficial is all I want.

Sex, drugs, and rock and roll - that's all I want.

//

The more you know who you are and what you want... ...the less you let things upset you.

///

I just don't know who I'm supposed to be... I tried being a writer but I hate what I write. And I tried taking pictures but they were so mediocre. You know, and every girl goes through a photography phase... You know, like horses, and taking dumb pictures of your feet...

////

You'll figure that out - I'm not worried about you.

/////

[a-walk-in-the-park-on-a-rai-blog]

A Flower Path and An Overwhelming Fear of Being Stuck //

When I was walking down the flower path, I'm pretty sure that the little girl's mother thought I was a hooker. I'm not trying to offend anybody. I'm just saying.

The little girl was small, wearing a pink jacket-you know, the kind that is suffocating and makes you feel like you've been stuffed inside a marshmallow-and the mother hadn't started holding her child's hand until she looked at me. Her eyes went wide like two full moons. Her mouth slightly dropped. Then she dragged her daughter to the other side of her, and essentially shielded her with her body as if I were going to make weeds grow inside her daughter's garden mind.

I don't think I look like a hooker. Maybe I'm exaggerating. I think I look exactly as I am: a tired, cranky college girl. But-in everyone's defense who looked at me like I was doing something abnormal-I was wearing a bright yellow, low-cut crop top at an early hour in the morning; my face was done up with eyeliner and lipstick. My eyes looked kind of hollow as I passed by. I was feeling a little unsteady that day.

My oversized, black jacket was unzipped because I got warm while I was walking. My right shoulder was exposed as the clothing slipped down my side. I didn't particularly mean to offend anyone with my body. I didn't mean to expose the little girl to what she'd someday replace her bright, puffy, pink jacket with in the far but not really far future.

Let's be honest.

I was only dressed like this because I had to work at the bar after my walk. Or else-trust me-I'd probably be in sweatpants. And don't get me wrong; I don't need to dress any specific way for my job. You're probably wondering why I even bothering dressing this way for a day shift. It's just easier for me to play a part when I'm there. To socialize with others and be this fun loving, beautiful shell that people can admire and adore. Until they really get to know me. Well, then they'll think I'm kind of weird.

Anyway. This isn't about the clothes. This is about what the clothes caused. I was mad that the mother shielded her daughter from me as if I were some type of a threat; I was mad that as cars passed by, they'd slow down and the drivers would say "hello" to me. Or, to be honest, things that are a lot more degrading than "hello", but I'd rather not write exactly what they said here because then they'll always hold some type of meaning.

All I wanted was to go for a walk and look at some flowers.

I've always liked the smell of flowers, especially in the spring. In my opinion, that is when the flowers smell the strongest. There's something to be said for the beauty of new life; for the awakening and blooming of plants and people alike after a long winter. I was born in April, so this time of the year is really peaceful for me; it's a time I can root my feet to the Earth, feel my most comfortable, and grow.

I want to grow. Not literally, but metaphorically. Actually, maybe literally too. But sometimes I feel stuck in a state, and being surrounding by blossoming flowers makes me realize how tortured I really am in a standstill position. I'll never agree with still water or quiet places; I need an ocean someday. I need absolute chaos to keep re-forgetting how I'm actually feeling.

I wished I could enjoy this walk without feeling self-conscious. I wished these people weren't looking at me. And though it is both my biggest fear and biggest dream, I wished I was completely alone. I wished I was the only girl in the world, and I could slip out of my serving shoes and run through the mud and feel like I was six years old again. I wished I was back at my neighborhood in the country, my hands covered in colorful chalk with dirt caked underneath my finger nails.

I wished I wasn't wearing this stupid crop top.

[a-walk-in-the-park-on-a-rai-blog]

Hello Tree //

Hello Tree, How'd you learn to love yourself? How'd you learn to stand tall despite your bumps and broken branches your bare body and bushed bark it's like it doesn't matter the way people look at you like you're different you're not complaining.

Hello Tree, I like to think you're happy now after years of hesitance and hating yourself it's hard to live a hundred years unhappy.

Hello Tree, I hope your smile isn't fake Your friendliness isn't a front Your forgiveness isn't a fault I hope you're actually a genuine creature, like you seem gentle to touch, grinning not glaring you bring alive the self awareness in alike imperfect people.

Take care.  

[a-walk-in-the-park-on-a-rai-blog]

Kick Stand // 

I've visited this park more than once before; not recently, but plenty of times last semester- The people here make me feel unsafe not because of their actions but more because of the sense of aloneness and steadiness between me and the other person like we're the only people in the world anything can happen if nobody is watching do you know how quiet it is when you can hear the other person breathing?

Today, the people I passed by were not that awkward or awry but I convinced myself that anyone I passed was an enemy; maybe it's my anxiety taking over my entire mind or everything my parents told me before I went away to college and so although one hand would sway by my side the other was more than attentive to the pepper spray in my jacket pocket, a sense of security don't try to come near me.

A young man got off his bike, hit the kick stand, stood still, and watched me and I watched him back at first to show I felt no intimidation but his eyes were laser beams and mine were empty and I looked away first, feeling unsteady he didn't seem much older than me, but also not completely there and he was aware of the way I was feeling I could tell because he never stopped looking.

So as I walked away I tried to focus on the sound of my footsteps the sound they made as they crunched against the gravel the sound they made as I walked over wet grass, soaked by last night's rain fall mud doesn't bother me, it reminds me of home I focus on the fog settling ahead of me I find myself drifting to a place I cannot reach... My hands are already trembling so I stuff them back in my pocket Relax, nothing is actually happening.  

[a-walk-in-the-park-on-a-rai-blog]

The Tears // 

When I wanted to be a famous photographer I thought that art in its purest form had to be flower petals with rain drops sitting on top I had a million pictures of these types of things.

When I wanted to be a famous poet I thought that art in its purest form had to be Rainy days and grey skies because they made people feel something Until I started walking through the rain and felt more numb than anything.

When I wanted to be a famous filmmaker I thought that art in its purest form had to be Slow motion and black and white As if reality isn't that powerful at all; As if I'd only ever seen through a lens of day dreams my entire life.

[a-walk-in-the-park-on-a-rai-blog]

The Playground Before This // 

The playground before today was better than this. Unlike the dreary drawback of colors drowned out by gloominess, the playground before today was simply pretty. It was bright and bold and children accompanied it; mothers and fathers alike surrounding it, watching happiness in its most memorable form.

I stare at it. The small, muddy footprints that belonged to tiny legs, leaving muddy tracks like water paint across the structure. The fingerprints, the size of pennies, like polka dots. The whole thing would be photogenic if the sun were out. If the snow would melt. It'd look like it was smiling, even.

I take a step back. Breathe in. Yeah, I can picture it. Good old Dad in his oversized flannel, standing with his circular framed glasses falling down the bridge of his nose while his arms remain crossed over his chest. Sally and Samantha are taking turns going down the slide. There's a lot of laughter, hinted with a sense of competition-I bet I can go down the slide faster than you, Samantha-and Dad shaking his head as if he can't remember a lifetime as simplistic as this.

I squint my eyes. This place is a vessel of something that used to hold happiness in it. I'm kind of scared of it.

I breathe in more earthy air, more fresh rainfall and baby flowers. As I walk backwards, my eyes focusing further in on the playground as I depart, I imagine ghosts. They devour the laughter of children, the cheeriness of recess-they absorb the entire structure in their misery. I turn away.

This part feels right.

[a-walk-in-the-park-on-a-rai-blog]

At Your Own Risk//

5.30.2016: Two summers ago, when I was a little more adventurous and a lot more single, I had snuck out of my house to meet up with my now-boyfriend for our second date. He'd brought me orange flowers (my favorite), a speaker to play some music, and his guitar. We sat in the back of his truck and talked all night, getting to know one another. The sound of the river was rushing in the background; the quietness of a country night is hypnotic. Falling in love was mesmerizing. 

7.12.2015: When I was seventeen, my coworker set me up on a blind date to get over some other guy I'd been stuck on at the time. I was so nervous, I asked my best friend's mother who's a psychic if I was going to die. She said no. So I went. We got ice cream, and it didn't go that well. He kept suggesting we go somewhere alone, like he couldn’t get to the bottom of his ice cream cone fast enough. Truthfully, I didn't want to go ANYWHERE alone with him. But I brought him to a park anyway. I always liked parks. He ruined that one for me after I told him "no" for the fifth time and the night ended with an awkward hug.

7.15.2017: I didn't mean to drop off the face of the Earth, but I did when I thought my best friend wasn't being fair to me. And after almost three months of not talking to her, I finally decided that I had to stop avoiding things. I like to think I can cut toxic people out of my life, but she was never toxic and I was ready to forgive. I told her let's meet up at the park. We haven't had an argument since.

8.23.2016: A couple of weeks before I left for college, I remember sitting at the park with my boyfriend and watching the water as the river flowed by. There was this thick tension and awkward silence because at the time I was, essentially, a time bomb. I'd be leaving to go away to school soon, and my boyfriend and I had no idea what was going to happen. We'd only been together for three months, which when you think about it, is hardly enough time to comprehend whether or not you're in love. And as we sat there, the river going and going and going, I leaned my head on his shoulder and told him we'd be fine. We still are fine. 

5.20.2014: I remember sitting on the swings next to him. While we were talking, I kept staring at my feet. Some people have that effect on me. I don’t want to mess up or feel stupid or say the wrong thing; I swung back and forth with my vision focused on the tops of my shoes--Converse with lyrics written on the toes. When I finally looked over, he was smiling at me. His eyes looked golden in the sunset.