I Will Regret This In The Morning

I Will Regret This In The Morning - Danielle Shorr

I will regret this in the morning
But I will do it anyway
My impulsivity often overpowers my conscience
Yet I am almost always fully aware
Of the decisions I make
And their consequences
I am not exactly mentally stable
But I am sane enough
To know right from wrong
Yesterday from Today
Love from lust
Although sometimes I mix them up
I have a tendency to lunge at any pair of arms that open for me
My mind and body often disagree
My body saying yes to eager hands
My mind saying no
Constantly looking towards my heart
Thinking how stupid one must be
To fall repeatedly
Get hurt every single time
And still manage to do the same
Over
And over
Again
I wonder
How many times I will have to hit the ground
In order to learn to stop falling face first
I often say things
That should be left unsaid
I often do things
That should not be done
Sleep in beds unfamiliar
Make believe love to strangers
Get to know people who will not remember be tomorrow
I am gone as quickly as the hangover
I can be washed off the tongue
Just as quickly as the liquor
I often believe I am capable of inciting change
I kiss temporary lips with permanence
Hoping that I can train them to stay
I love temporary people with permanence
Hoping that I can train them not to leave
And when they do
I claim to have seen it coming
I am incapable of forgetting
A scrapbook memory of skin and heartbeat
Of touch and moments
I know not to look directly into the eyes
For they can be blinding
And I still
Do it anyway
I know of the risks that shouldn't be taken
Well aware of their consequences
And I still
Take them anyway
You could say
It is my own fault
For the way that things continue to turn out
But I can make no promises of apology
Instead
I will live momentarily
Fuck up intentionally
Love recklessly
Fall unguarded
Break enough times to learn how to put myself back together
Crash into concrete enough times to learn how to shift a crooked smile
Into something worth seeing
I have been told that a life lived in fear
Is hardly a life lived at all
So I intend to live every second
Like it is the last one I will have
I will write each night as it happens
Narrate my own stories
And hope they turn out okay
I will regret this in the morning
But I will do it anyway.

How To Leave When You're Not Ready

1) Pick the harshest time in Ithaca to leave: winter.

2) Pick a time period where no one is around and you couldn't say goodbye to a lot of people before said time period because everyone is stressed and freaking out about assignments and exams: finals week and winter break.

3) Leave packing to the last minute.

4) Cry unstoppably while you pack at the last minute.

5) Cry about having left packing to the last minute because you have so much to pack or throw out.

6) Cry about how much shit you've amassed and how it happened without you even realizing it.

7) Take periodic breaks to watch all 10 seasons of Friends.

8) Put off looking for flights for two months.

9) Book your flight just over a week before it leaves.

10) Cry while you book your one-way plane ticket.

11) Continue crying as you pack three and a half years of your life into two suitcases, a duffle bag and two boxes.

12) Cry as you eat your weight in Ben & Jerry's while "taking a break" from packing.

13) Fantasize about staying in Ithaca. Get excited.

14) Fantasize about leaving Ithaca. Get excited.

15) Cry again because you realize you have no idea what you're doing with your life.

16) Leave making arrangements to the last minute because you refuse to think too much about leaving.

17) Write a blog post about it.

Basically if there are a lot of tears involved, you should be all set.

Teach Me About Life

Ernest Hemingway said, "there is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed." Well lately I've been feeling like there's no blood in my veins at all. No heart beat to start the blood pumping, to pour out into words and punctuation.

The need to write is calling, but the inspiration to is not. And it's leaving me feeling pretty helpless. I feel the need to express but I'm not exactly sure how and in what form. I miss writing, but lately it hasn't been the form of expression that my mind seems to want to utilize. I'm not sure if my mind wants to utilize any form at all. My thoughts have been very personal and turbulent lately, not really things I feel comfortable sharing on this platform. Not that I think any one really reads this now unless I publicize it, but there's always that off-chance...

I suppose this was just a check in. An attempt at maybe sparking some thing in my head. It's Thanksgiving tomorrow and usually I have some form of thought that I feel I need to share. But not this time, not yet at least. My thoughts have been preoccupied with many anxieties and uncertainties and I wish it would just take a second to breathe and see that it's not as bad as it seems to be. But you know, that's always easier said than done.

So teach me about life, and not constantly worrying about external events. Teach me about living and breathing and bleeding. Maybe then the writing will come.

I never thought Talib Kweli would be the one to remind me what I was doing with my life.

“You have to have hope for the future to be an artist.” – Talib Kweli

I took this winter class over my break, Watching Race in US Media (by Dr Paula Ioanide) and it had a very big impact on me. The winter class was a truncated version of Dr Paula's full semester course, but even in those two short weeks, I learned a lot. It unlocked another way of thinking and an ability to analyze that I had never really put much effort or thought into previously, but more than that it taught me a lot about things I hadn’t really thought about in depth before. Our class was focused on race in US media but through that it exposed me more to the social injustice that’s happened and still continues to happen in this country. And being a minority in this country, it definitely was applicable to me.

My mind, my eyes and my knowledge had been broadened and I questioned what I was doing with my life. We don’t really have gen eds at Murdoch University the same way we do here so I kind of jumped straight into my theatre degree, and as I’ve progressed through it, things inevitably got more and more specific to what we’re studying. Taking Dr Paula’s class made me think and feel like I had missed out on learning so much and made me question my decision to study performing arts. I guess one of my biggest goals in life is to help people and when I thought about why I was doing theatre and how it related to helping people, it didn’t quite match up in my head. I was doing dance and theatre because I loved it. It provided this outlet of expression with the things I had troubling saying; it made me feel less alone; and it brought me into this world where I didn’t really care what other people thought of me. Maybe I'm not the best dancer and maybe after, I do care about what people think of me, but in that exact moment when I’m dancing, when my body, the music, and my heart take over, I could not care less what anyone else thought of me. Even three days ago, I had this idea in my head of leaving school to take dance classes and auditions in LA or New York City. I’m not sorry that sounds so cliché. There is absolutely nothing wrong with those reasons, but I was very concerned that it seemed selfish and I wasn’t exactly sure what that said as a reflection of me or how it aligned with my goal of helping people.

I remember feeling really lost after our final Watching Race in US Media class and almost being in tears because I was feeling so conflicted.

But after participating in the staged reading of Dream Acts* and attending the Talib Kweli event tonight, I know that dance and theatre is definitely what I want to do. We'd had one rehearsal for our staged reading of Dream Acts and already at that level, it was impacting and the questions and discussions that followed after our performance was proof of that. People were learning things and asking questions – conversations were happening, knowledge was being gained and awareness was being raised. I sat at the Talib Kweli event tonight and I looked at all of these kids, students and community members that were there. A group of bros sat behind me and before the event started, all they were talking about was things like, “Yo, I wonder if he’ll rap for us”. I wasn’t sure if they really knew what he had come to Ithaca for. I wasn’t even exactly clear on what he was going to talk about, what he stood for. And I didn’t know how many other people in that room did. But one thing was really clear – they were all there to see Talib Kweli because they admired him. Maybe they didn't really know what he was there for, maybe they did; but they came and they listened, and they asked questions. As Macklemore raps in his song Otherside:  “Us as rappers underestimate the power and the effects that we have on these kids”. And it's true.

I guess I got lost for a moment, but once again, I’m seeing theatre, music, dance – performing arts – impacting and educating people, spreading knowledge, raising awareness, being voices for people who can’t speak up, beacons of hope for those who don’t know what to do.

This is what we’re here for. To start conversations, to enlighten and to make people ask questions. To be the voice to the voiceless, and the hope for the hopeless.

I feel very privileged to have been a part of Dream Acts and to have sat in the same room as Talib Kweli and listened to him speak about social justice and activism.

I never thought it’d be a rapper that would indirectly remind and reassure me that art, in its myriad of forms, is indeed what I want to do with my life and the medium through which I can help people.

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Dream Acts is fictional play about five DREAM (Development, Relief and Education for Alien Minors) act eligible youths and the challenges they face trying to live ordinary lives while being undocumented. This bill has been in review in Congress since 2009. As of the end of 2012, 8 states have implemented their own versions of the DREAM act. Find out more information here and here.

Welcome to Midnight

Photo courtesy of To Write Love On Her Arms

10

The countdown begins. From months to weeks to days to hours to minutes and, finally, to seconds.

9

2012 was a year. Big decisions were made; lives were relocated, new members of the family were welcomed; multiple goodbyes to multiple people were said; many laughs were shared; a lot more tears were shed; growing up and wising up was done.

8

I never really understood the need for all of the celebrations and fireworks, but then again I’ve never been a New Year’s person; never really celebrated it much. To me, it was just another day. The clock striking midnight has never been a moment of significance or change for me. It was just the transition from another day that I had lasted through into another day that I would hopefully survive.

7

I never make resolutions because I know I’ll never keep them. I’m never able to hold the promises that I make to myself.

6

New Year’s has always come with a sense of poignancy and nostalgia for me. Midnight comes with remembrance for everything that has happened in the year just passed, and relief with the fact that I’ve survived it once more. Midnight comes with the uncertainty of what the next year will bring, and a vague sense of hope that maybe it will be better, if only just a little bit.

5

I am not going to make any resolutions or promises of improvement for next year. I already know that it will be challenging in many ways. And why should one day be dedicated to making the decision to change and be healthier, happier, wealthier, better…

4

Maybe it’s in that one moment. A moment of thrill, excitement, adrenaline, anticipation, trepidation… The expectation and hope for something else. Something better. The moment when an old year becomes a new year. When an old you can maybe become a new you. I know it’s not easy. Change is scary and it takes time. Acceptance, healing, recovery, forgiveness… Wounds heal but scars stay and is it all worth it?

3

I am scared – no, terrified – of what 2013 will bring. But right now, if only for a moment, I will welcome midnight.

2

Happy New Year.

1

#welcometomidnight

Walk Away

Here I stand.

With my heart and everything that I am

In my hands.

In front of you,

Bare.

Shadows and scars for you to judge. And I’ll just leave it all

At your feet, all that’s left of me.

A bag of bones and an aching heart,

And I’ll leave that too because what use is it to me now.

And I’ll walk away, walk away.        

With nothing left of me

I’ll walk away, walk away now and I won’t

Look back at what I used to be.

What you have of me.

You have all of me.

I won’t call, won’t ask how you’re doing.

And I hope you won’t too.

Because I already know if you do,

I won’t lie like I used to.

You have all of me now. I won’t ask for it back.

I’ll just pray that you’ll be gentle with it as I walk away.

I'll just pray that you'll know how sorry I am as I walk away.

I’ll walk away, leave you be, and I’ll try not to look back.

Goodbye, Murdoch: An Explanation and Retrospective Walkthrough

This post is probably more for my benefit, but maybe yours too.

It’s hard to start when saying goodbye to someone, and it’s no different when you say goodbye to something. I always forget that the week before the semester starts is O Week (Orientation Week), so as I walked into Murdoch University today for the last time as a Murdoch student, other kids were walking into Murdoch for the first time as a Murdoch student. I thought it was kind of poetic. “Every end is a new beginning”, is that not the proverb? Well, today marked the end of my Murdoch student life and the beginning for someone else’s.

Goodbye, Murdoch :(.

It only occurred to me today when I posted the above picture with that caption on Instagram and Facebook and received some comments that not every one knows what’s going on (I know, arrogant of me to assume that everyone is just waiting on the edges of their seats to find out what’s going on in my life. My apologies). I also have a bad habit of moving countries without telling anyone. I wanted to tell people in person but it was taking too long to meet up with everyone and I was getting tired repeating myself over and over again, so consider this my explanation.

Yes, today I sent in my application of withdrawal to Murdoch University. “Why?” I’m transferring to Ithaca College (please don’t hate me, guys). I had an amazing time and experience there and I learned so much more in one semester than I did in a year and half at Murdoch. And being there was the first time I could say that I was properly happy in a decade. I thought about this decision to transfer for a long time, even after I’d been accepted by Ithaca College. There were a lot of things to consider; money, time, family, friends… But at the end of the day, Ithaca won out.

I was (am) happy in Ithaca. To those who know me well, you know that that means a lot to me, and isn't something I can say and mean often. I was happy with what I was learning, what I was doing, what I could potentially do, where I was in life, what I was experiencing (the good and the bad), I was comfortable with the people I was surrounded by. I was worked harder than I’d ever been worked in my life (even harder than year 12) and stressed beyond belief at times, but I actually felt like I was learning and growing. My sister said she had never seen me work so hard and enjoy it before. But apart from that, studying in IC would give me the education, training, conditioning, credentials and contacts that I would never have gotten at Murdoch or in Perth.

But with saying that, without Murdoch I would never have gone to Ithaca. So thank you for everything, Murdoch. I might not have learnt much, but I did meet some incredibly awesome people.

My last time on Bush Court as a Murdoch student.

What I do remember of Murdoch is lying on Bush Court eating hot chips and drinking coffee (or often sleeping, too), trying to avoid the crows and magpies, eating Chinese (“noodles and honey chicken, please!”), laughs at the Tav, the MASSIVE hike up the stairs from carpark 7, class picnics, and countless moments spent with (and making fun of) friends. I guess I remember going to class too, but honestly, there aren’t that many classes to attend or remember when you only go to uni three days a week, for an average of an hour and a half to two hours each day, like I did in my last semester there.

Good ol' Murdoch Tav.

Walking through Murdoch for the last time as a student there was bittersweet. I’ll miss it but I know bigger things are waiting for me at Ithaca.

This might be a goodbye to Murdoch, but it's not a goodbye to Perth. I didn't realise the friends I had here until I went away and I'm so grateful that they're still around. Don't worry, I'll be back. You can't get rid of me that easily :).