creative outlets

Release me, release me, set me free.



I'm a rather visual/metaphorical person. I often time visual my emotions. There are pros and cons to this.

The last few weeks have been quite gloomy. I kind of felt like I had a permanent raincloud over my head that never seemed to go away and fail on my part. I had no umbrella or rainboots to prepare for what I was going through.

If it wasn't one thing, it was another.

Given, I wasn't doing my part in the situation. I was sluggishly accepting what was happening to me. I was losing the battle. A once foreign concept to me. I almost always have a little fight in me.

I was lacking in writing. I even had a good friend, well I kind of consider him an older brother, try to subtly tell me, "Hey, this is what you should do."

Non-committal, commitment phobe or layman's terms, "SHE HATES COMMITMENT."

This is something I hear rather frequently, almost jokingly. Until, I stayed at one of my highschool mentor's houses the other night driving through Oakland and I explained to her how I'm being and she replies with "Some things just don't change."

I was taken aback by it. This isn't a funny joke anymore.

Rewind a bit, back the the older brother figure. He simply told me, "It always helps me to write it down, just to get it out."

Now, you know those phrases "When I say this; I really mean this"

Him and I were discussing the day but what we were really getting to was a more understanding of my life.

He was right. Stubborn Sam just continued on though. Not even a crack open in my journal.

As days pass, my slump increased.

Until, this weekend.

I would like to call this a prison retreat.

There were pros and cons. Essentially, from Friday night until Sunday afternoon, I didn't even come close to leaving my apartment.

I hardly got out of bed.

But in the back of my head, I had this image of how I was feeling. What it was doing to me.

It needed to be released.

I was suppressed. 

Friday night, I get home around midnight and I was up until 5 am-- laying the groundworks for a painting/art journal on canvas.

Saturday, I was at it again.

Once, it was released and understood visually.

I felt weight being lifted.

more true than ever

It is a sad truth. 

I remember the first time I heard it. It was the Season finale of Grey's Anatomy. There she is, a lady in a wedding dress, Alone. She's crying. I'm crying. Half the world is crying. In the background, you hear it-- the song.  "All I can do is keep breathing" over and over and over." 

"Who sings this song?" 

Google tells me "Ingrid Michaelson" 

Limewire, back in the day when I pirated all my music. 

I listened to the song over and over and over again. 

I cried to the song over and over again.

It spoke to me, it drove emotion. It seems to always fit.  Not in the way of the wedding dress scene in Grey's Anatomy, but for my daily life.  My constant thought, my constant plea. 

And once again, here I am dwelling with this song. 

The storm is coming, but I don't mind. People are dying, I close my blinds.All that I know is I'm breathing now. I want to change the world, instead I sleep. I want to believe in more than you and me. But all that I know is I'm breathing. All I can do is keep breathing.All we can do is keep breathing now. All that I know is I'm breathing. All I can do is keep breathing.All we can do is keep breathing. All we can do is keep breathing now.