This can be more than flashing lights and sounds.

So I've changed layouts again. Back to my original template. I still like this one the best.
I have also changed my blog title and such things. The Artist In The Ambulance is actually a song. It's by a band called Thrice. I don't really know very much about them at all. They came up on my Pandora...I think. Anyway. This song. I love it. I know I say that a lot. But this one kind of epitomizes a lot of things that I come to in this blog. About improving myself and making existence more than it is right now. Trust me. Shall I pull another Grooveshark? Yes, yes I think I will.




See? Isn't that AWESOME??

Okay. So there is kind of a funny connection between that song and my subtitle. I was listening to it...Artist In The Ambulance, and I realized that part of it sounded familiar. I couldn't figure out why. And I didn't really. It was an accident when I did. I was looking for something a friend of mine had said in a post on Facebook. And it was in that post that I found part of the lyrics to the song. That post also ended, "im no hero but dont think i didnt care". Under normal circumstances, the horrible punctuation would have killed me. But it didn't. I love that sentence more then I can express. I didn't tell the guy who wrote it that I used it. He'll find out or he won't, depending on if he reads this.
I feel like I should explain why I love that so much. But I can't really figure out the words for it. I'm trying to. I really am. It's one of those things that just kind of...hit you. And you can't describe it beyond that. If I ever can, I will. But that might take away from it's amazingness.

On to something else that has been happening. I forgot how much I like being touched. EEEWWWW sicko. NOT like that. (So I know that just means I'M the sicko. But whatever). I was holding hands with three different people in the last twenty four hours. I was held in someone's arms. It was nice. I mean, of course my family hugs me, and my brother holds my hand sometimes. But that's different. It isn't the same connection.
I think I have a problem. I've already talked about my constant worry that people only pretend to like me? Well I think this is connected. When someone is willing to hold my hand, or hold me, or hug me, or anything like that, I have some subconsious affirmation that they truly do like me. If you can touch me, if you can show you care enough to do something like that, I know that you are truly someone who is my friend. I will lose that assurance within a week. But still. I felt for a little while.
I think I know why this is. When I was...well. In my worst years, I suppose...I was never touched. Other then my family, of course. Not even accidental brushes. I was and alien, I was diseased, whatever the rumor was that week. There was a bubble around me all the time. The one friend I had--who did not attend the same school--would not, and still doesn't, allow physical contact for more then five or six seconds. I understand how she feels that way. It doesn't bother me anymore. Because she is the one person I can always trust to care about me. Once again, my family is excluded from that.
That experience, though, is the one that caused my desire to be touched. Like Tommy.

"See Me/Feel Me/Touch Me/Heal Me"

I think it was those same years that made me such a hard-heart. I really think they shaped me entirley. But my hard heart has been causing problems recently. I suppose you could say that I wish I didn't have it. I wish I wasn't afraid to care about...well. Someone. I wish I could just care. Like a normal person. Without thinking about how stupid I am. How much I don't need him, how much I am better off alone. Because my defensive instinct tells me that I should stay safe and alone. But that part of me that isn't so afraid tells me otherwise. And my head wants me to relax. My head wants me to care without being careful. Because I do care. More than is particularly healthy. But at the same time? I don't. The soft parts of my heart care, and the hard parts won't let me.
I heard something somewhere once that we don't love with our hearts, but with our brains and our souls.

Oh God. How TEENAGE GIRL!!! I hate that. I hate that SO MUCH.

Ugh. I have to end this now.

Oy.

Do you feel alive??

So I was lying in bed last night, not sleeping. As per usual. I was listening to Angels and Airwaves. If you haven't ever heard them... Well, not that it matters. I am putting one of their songs on this lovely {that lovely was for you Leah} blog post. This is not the one I was listening to, but it is my very favorite. It's called "Secret Crowds", and it's off of AVA's (that's the abbreviation, trust me) second--and possibly last--album. I say possibly last, because Tom DeLong was the lead singer, and he was also the lead singer of blink-182, which has recently had a reunion. Ignore all the commas in that sentence. Anyhow, "Secret Crowds":



Yeah, okay, it gets a bit repetitive at the end...but still.
Now that you have heard one of the songs, I can get back to my point.

I was listening to a song by AVA last night. I don't remember which one. And one of the lyrics went, "And now I feel alive." Pretty cliche line, right? I've never really given much thought to it. But I did last night. And I don't get it. Honestly. You ARE alive, aren't you? It's not like you could feel dead. And, okay, that's very childish of me. But here's the truth: I have never not felt alive. Every second of every day, while my heart beats, while I'm breathing, experiencing, loving, learning, living. I am very much alive. Nothing has ever reminded me of it, or made me truly feel it. It just is.
I suppose one day that might change. I might have some earth-shattering experience, or I'll meet someone so phenomenal that suddenly I will be more alive then I was before. But right at this point in time, I can't see that happening. Because, for better or worse, I am very alive, and very aware of it.


How about you? Do you feel alive?

The End.

I've just finished watching this movie. It was called...um. Wow. Something about hearts. Huh. I feel dumb. Just a second.

tick.
tock.
tick.
tock.

Right! Untamed Hearts. Sound cheesy? Yeah, that's because it was. Trust me. I mean...it was good. It was "different", according to some people. But really. I saw a movie that was practically identical in storyline. Well, not really. But same basic concept. Except Keith--the other movie--had so much more character development, was SO much easier to relate to...and okay, I have to admit. Keith is the best name EVER. Anyway. Keith. Ignore that it stars Jesse McCartney. He was actually very very good in the movie, nothing at all like the way he usually is. It was a delicious film for anyone in the mood for a chick flick/drama. Go watch it.

And now I'm going to get back to my point about Untamed Hearts. It ended with the words THE END. Which is pretty classic, I suppose. Things ending with 'the end'. Plus--listen to me! It ends with the words the end. But it still bugs me. I hate the end. Because nothing is ever the end, is it? Yeah, okay, the movie is over. But if you think like I do, those characters aren't over. They still have their own imaginary lives to live. So it isn't the end.
If you can't see it that way, it still isn't the end. Anything you watch or read has to have some sort of impact on you. You might not notice, and you could very well call it a waste of time. But it still makes you think. It still occupies your time, and your mind. So it didn't end. It's still with you, no matter how endlessly cheesy it was. Or annoying. Or a waste of time.

It's a good thing I'm done, because Malcom in the Middle just came on.

I still love you, dear.

Welcome

This poor blog has been needlessly neglected. I feel just terrible about it.
Okay, really, I do. This, unfortunatley, just goes to prove how utterly braindead I've been since I got home from that epic vacation. Ugh.

But this is a fresh start: thus the fresh layout. I keep changing it. I think I'll keep longer when school starts, but it just doesn't seem to suit me at all these days. I wish I knew more HTML. My knowledge far more limited than it should be.

Actually, that seems to be true in a lot of things these days. I wish I knew more about all sorts of things. The problem, though, is that at this current moment in time, I cannot recall ANY of those things. But I'm sure I've been thinking it to myself a whole lot recently...

Okay. So. In the next week, I have to do some hardcore soul searching. Hardcore. Oh my. I think I'll keep it to myself right now, but when I am done, I shall share it with all you wonderful people.

I feel very tired right now. Exaughsted. My brain is failing me. Oy. I just wanted the world to know that I still exist.

welcometotheuniverse.