I want it to rain, now that I am 3 stories high inside.
Its a Saturday night, and I always have these feelings on Saturday nights when I have decided to be in the library in the middle of the woods all alone.
The storms are easier to hear. The air that swoops past the windows whistles and calls like animals fighting to get in.

This new year comes with new challenges to my preconceived stereotypes and ideas. Which is hard. Hard, worthwhile, frightening. I was walking across campus in my shoes that sunk into the waterlogged ground, when I thought about my current ambivalence. My motivation problem, my inaction.
If you read fairy tales or just listen to girls who have grown up on Disney, I'm sure its just the same. We love fate, we love to wait. Are we ever strong enough? Where is your self worth?

I've found this world, and the abstract areas in which we live, to be far too large to exclude opportunities and slam doors. In many folk stories there is a common theme. Bluebeard, Grimm's tale of the 13th door of Heaven, et cetera, involve the forbidden door. All are given the means to open it, and are told not to. Well, who says? Keep your women weak, keep your world blind.
So, for all I seek to find, no longer will I fear these doors I open. Bluebeard will not cut off my head and paint the walls with my blood. The virgin Mary will not steal my children. Destiny and fate are fun to think about, but I'm taking responsibility, thanks.

I heard something neat that came from my car stereo. or more directly, from the mouth of Mike Kinsella. "Blame is for God and little kids, so you're deserving of praise or a slap on the wrist"