I used to think that Love was love.
But then I grew up.
I grew up, and I realized that Love and love are two very different emotions, with two very different meanings.
Now, I certainly did not come to this realization by my own accord, of course not. This lesson took time, and patience and, above all, experience. Experiences that I wouldn't necessarily classify as happy, despite their grand reward of wisdom.
My best friend Leslie and I, have been best friends since the beginning of grade ten. Although that gives us only two and a half years of best-friend-ship, I'm sure she would agree in that it feels as if we have known one another for a lifetime.
And in that lifetime, we have seen each other through a great deal of hardships, struggles, losses, smiles, tears, gains, and love.
At the age of fifteen, we feel as though we have ruled the world. We have endured fifteen years of experience, and now we are old enough to claim certainty on our feelings. At the age of fifteen, we are all grown up, and ready to experience the rest of what life hands us.
But at the age of fifteen, we are naive, because only with age and experience does wisdom and readiness come.
I believe it was Jordan Schriver, a friend of both mine and Leslie's, who introduced the difference to both of us; The difference between Love and love, I mean. I'm not particularly certain as to the context of his explanation, but essentially, he used capitalization as a visual form of explanation:
As humans, we have the ability to love, and we DO love. We come into this world being loved. We grow (hopefully) near people who love us. We are held with arms of love. When we cried, we were spoken to in loving tones. And as we grow older, we develop friendships and bonds with those closest to us. We learn to love them. We protect them, and are there for them, because they mean something to us. Because we care.
We learn the meaning of love at such a young age that it becomes second nature for us to love. We express this love through word, and we express this love through physical embrace, and eventually, we think nothing of it.
But dear friend, understand that there is a very different type of "love". And the act of confusing or infusing the two together is a very dangerous path. One to which I do not advise you take.
I had my very first crush when I was 5 years old. His name was Benjamin. I know what you're thinking; How can a five year old come to such a declaration of emotion, when they are not capable of recounting the definition of such a feeling. And that is exactly my point. I had a crush on this boy for 7 years. All the way up until grade 6. What did I like about him? Good question. I can't even tell you his last name anymore. I can scarcely remember what he looked like, but the only vivid memories I have in relation to this young boy, is myself giving a piece of paper to Mrs Miller, my teacher, reading " I love ben", before running into the girls' washroom with my good friend Erika.
Why did we hide? I suppose we simply felt it appropriate to run away from my confession of love.
So, it's safe to say that we can associate love with:
-Family
-Friends
-Crushes
-Inanimate Objects (Like my Dino Blanky... Yes, my childhood baby blanket that I carried with me everywhere, and whom still today resides under the covers to my bed)
But Love... Oh, Love, is a very dangerous word.
No, you shouldn't spend countless hours bulking up on muscle in order to defend yourself from this intimidating Capital L. But you SHOULD take the time to feed your heart, because there is no possible way that your biceps and deltoids will be able to defend that precious piece of your soul.
I can guarantee you, that if you ask 10 people around you, right this moment, if they have ever been in love with someone, 7-8 out of those 10 people, will say yes. Which is all fine and dandy, but ask those same 10 people that same 1 question in ten years from now, and I bet they will have fallen in love with a different person.
Love, my dear friend, is the kind of love that reveals your soul to the world. The kind of love that strips you from your clothing, and exploits you, for all the world to see. Love... Love is frustrating. It is never-ending, and ever-enduring. It is passionate, and it is possessive. It is angry, it is sad, it is consuming, overwhelming, and unbearably intense. But it is beautiful. Love happens with one person, at one time, and never again does that same Love come along.
"love" is a state of emotion, and our perception of this feeling changes each and every day. It is a drug. We love our family, and once that love becomes a part of us, we fall immune to it. And then we love our friends, and once again we feel love until it fades into our souls. And then we love our Benjamin's, but soon enough, that love has no effect on us.
And then we Love.
And Love never fades.
In no way am I saying that Alycia at the age of 5, did not actually love Benjamin (Insert Last Name Here). I'm just saying that Alycia at the age of 17, realized that love is ever-growing, and that my love at the age of 5 does not nearly compare to the Love I feel for another, at the age of 17.
I'm sure at 100, I still will not have experienced the extent of love's power.
Remember, Love is dangerous, and Love WILL, most definitely, out-live us all.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Embodiment
Written Monday, May 26th, 2008
Embodied
Here I am lying in the snow as it melts into droplets, that absolve into the warmth of the earth.
And I am left here to die.
Swift
I flash past you, and all you feel is a light breeze floating above your fingertips
And then I am gone.
Forever.
Goodbye.
Alycia Dort
Written Monday, May 26th, 2008
Embodied
Here I am lying in the snow as it melts into droplets, that absolve into the warmth of the earth.
And I am left here to die.
Swift
I flash past you, and all you feel is a light breeze floating above your fingertips
And then I am gone.
Forever.
Goodbye.
Alycia Dort
The Simple Truth
The Simple Truth
Written Saturday, August 9th, 2009
So I'm not a fan of blogging. Not very much at all. But I AM a fan of truth, and intellect, and creational thought. I am a strong believer in expression of moral values, and life, and something very serious has begun to cross my mind more severally than that which I would have hoped. My thought process became obscenely important to me, and I tried to justify my own comforts, while realizing that this is the very thing that has ruined the world. Comfort.
We're pained at the thought of change. It terrifies most of us. Now, don't get me wrong, I know some people who enjoy a little misplacement within their lives, and accept it with wide open arms as challenge, and new opportunities, however I, myself, am not one of these people.
I hyperventalate at the thought of changing my life. I become morbidly bitter and incoherent and illogical. Irrational thoughts file in line behind the mislogic, and I find myself utterly screwed.
Watching the world is a bit alarming. The mistakes people make. Of course it is only but human nature, however they seem to have no idea what they are doing to themselves. They busy themselves with inanimate objects simply to take their minds from their problems at hand. They use licquor, and drugs, and lust, and desire to overcome their inner sadness, and inner grief. Simply so that they can live "pleased". Happy, they say. Well... They don't stay happy for long, now do they?
Now let's all take a second to sit down, and breathe. Deep, deep breaths. In, and out... And in... And out.
Breathing. It has become custom to us. Habit, even. So familiar, that we posess mostly no figments of awareness on the act.
It holds no conscious importance in our lives. It's just something we do. Without it, we would die. But do we forget to breathe? No. COULD we forget to breathe? Consciously, yes. But not so otherwise. Because it is a familiarity to us. We are comfortable with it.
Like talking. Talking has taken place of significance in our lives. 90% of us loath the silence, and so we talk. We talk to fill the silence, and to leave ourselves content. Silence drives us the sane, and even the very thought of it is very much appalling in certain scenerios. Such as when we have company. When we are in the presence of people. Our loved ones. Friends. Acquaintances.
Imagine going on a date where noone spoke. The very thought of this predicament leaves me feeling inadequate, unimportant. Wow. Awkward.
Why on earth does silence bother us so? Possibly because it has become such a habit to us; we grew up with the noise of busy life. It was around us our entire lives. As we learned to speak, or when we became sleep deprivated. Was it not with the help of noise that we found comfort? comforting words of support. The soothing whispers of the wind, the crickets, the cars. The sounds of many talking; insignificance looming. Taken by reality and drowning our angers in music.
Funny how in order to escape the stresses of sound, we use sound, don't you think?
It's kinda like replacing a half-filled notebook, with a full one. Why? It gets us nowhere. So what is the point?
What is the point?
WHAT IS THE POINT?
WHAT IS THE POINT?
I can ask myself that very question a million times, and yet I have no answer. There IS no point. We do this because it is familiar and habitual to us. We are used to our lifestyles.
I cannot tell you how many times I have seeked the aid of my friends, and not processed even a word of what they had said to me. Because it did not matter what they said. I was selfindulged in comfort. I liked that comfort so much, in fact, that I did not much care about the struggles looming around it. I didn't care. Not until they caught up with me, and it was too late. And then it hits you. You have no way out. No way to get out of the mess you dug yourself into. The only way out of the whole; the life you build yourself around in troubles and comfort, is to build a compleltely new one. And there, you face a bigger predicament; discomfort. Ooh la la, hello new friend. Literally.
We have to give up everything that ties us down to that person.
Our lifestyles.
Our habbits.
Our values.
And many of our friends.
And we do not really know what to do about that, no do we?
And so what do we do? We continue the act out of comfort. And familiarity.
Wasting years of your life, while people around you watch you make mistakes, and keep moving, because they tried to warn you, and you did not listen to them.
Well, I have got some great news for the world. Familarity will only but drag you down, while you cling to comfort for dear life. Have fun. I can only leave you all with this:
I'm not sticking around to watch it happen.
Alycia Dort
Written Saturday, August 9th, 2009
So I'm not a fan of blogging. Not very much at all. But I AM a fan of truth, and intellect, and creational thought. I am a strong believer in expression of moral values, and life, and something very serious has begun to cross my mind more severally than that which I would have hoped. My thought process became obscenely important to me, and I tried to justify my own comforts, while realizing that this is the very thing that has ruined the world. Comfort.
We're pained at the thought of change. It terrifies most of us. Now, don't get me wrong, I know some people who enjoy a little misplacement within their lives, and accept it with wide open arms as challenge, and new opportunities, however I, myself, am not one of these people.
I hyperventalate at the thought of changing my life. I become morbidly bitter and incoherent and illogical. Irrational thoughts file in line behind the mislogic, and I find myself utterly screwed.
Watching the world is a bit alarming. The mistakes people make. Of course it is only but human nature, however they seem to have no idea what they are doing to themselves. They busy themselves with inanimate objects simply to take their minds from their problems at hand. They use licquor, and drugs, and lust, and desire to overcome their inner sadness, and inner grief. Simply so that they can live "pleased". Happy, they say. Well... They don't stay happy for long, now do they?
Now let's all take a second to sit down, and breathe. Deep, deep breaths. In, and out... And in... And out.
Breathing. It has become custom to us. Habit, even. So familiar, that we posess mostly no figments of awareness on the act.
It holds no conscious importance in our lives. It's just something we do. Without it, we would die. But do we forget to breathe? No. COULD we forget to breathe? Consciously, yes. But not so otherwise. Because it is a familiarity to us. We are comfortable with it.
Like talking. Talking has taken place of significance in our lives. 90% of us loath the silence, and so we talk. We talk to fill the silence, and to leave ourselves content. Silence drives us the sane, and even the very thought of it is very much appalling in certain scenerios. Such as when we have company. When we are in the presence of people. Our loved ones. Friends. Acquaintances.
Imagine going on a date where noone spoke. The very thought of this predicament leaves me feeling inadequate, unimportant. Wow. Awkward.
Why on earth does silence bother us so? Possibly because it has become such a habit to us; we grew up with the noise of busy life. It was around us our entire lives. As we learned to speak, or when we became sleep deprivated. Was it not with the help of noise that we found comfort? comforting words of support. The soothing whispers of the wind, the crickets, the cars. The sounds of many talking; insignificance looming. Taken by reality and drowning our angers in music.
Funny how in order to escape the stresses of sound, we use sound, don't you think?
It's kinda like replacing a half-filled notebook, with a full one. Why? It gets us nowhere. So what is the point?
What is the point?
WHAT IS THE POINT?
WHAT IS THE POINT?
I can ask myself that very question a million times, and yet I have no answer. There IS no point. We do this because it is familiar and habitual to us. We are used to our lifestyles.
I cannot tell you how many times I have seeked the aid of my friends, and not processed even a word of what they had said to me. Because it did not matter what they said. I was selfindulged in comfort. I liked that comfort so much, in fact, that I did not much care about the struggles looming around it. I didn't care. Not until they caught up with me, and it was too late. And then it hits you. You have no way out. No way to get out of the mess you dug yourself into. The only way out of the whole; the life you build yourself around in troubles and comfort, is to build a compleltely new one. And there, you face a bigger predicament; discomfort. Ooh la la, hello new friend. Literally.
We have to give up everything that ties us down to that person.
Our lifestyles.
Our habbits.
Our values.
And many of our friends.
And we do not really know what to do about that, no do we?
And so what do we do? We continue the act out of comfort. And familiarity.
Wasting years of your life, while people around you watch you make mistakes, and keep moving, because they tried to warn you, and you did not listen to them.
Well, I have got some great news for the world. Familarity will only but drag you down, while you cling to comfort for dear life. Have fun. I can only leave you all with this:
I'm not sticking around to watch it happen.
Alycia Dort
Time
Time
Written Saturday, November 21st, 2009
Take my hand and lead me, to a place where there's no pain,
Where footsteps never fade beneath the snow,
Where there's no one you wished you didn't know.
Take my hand, and I will follow, as long as you are here,
But promise me, that you will never go,
You mean more to me than you could ever know.
I'm trying to fall without breaking in two
I'm trying to stay in this strength.
I'm feeling I'm flying but inside I'm dying away
I don't belong in this place.
Hold me tightly, help me to discover happiness,
A smile that I can plaster on my face,
A knowledge that I've found a better place.
Touch me gently, softly, and push the tears away,
Even though I'm failing the race,
Time, can be such a disgrace.
I feel so locked up in this world,
That I can't stand to be apart,
From the ones who've shaped my soul,
And the ones who've shaped my heart
Throwing caution to the wind,
When I'm running back from all things real.
Is this pain I feel?
I'm trying to fall without breaking in two
I'm trying to stay in this strength.
But I keep on fighting for the rest of my life,
I'll never find that better place,
If I keep trying to find strength,
I'll never see that smiling face,
Time, can be such a disgrace.
Alycia Dort
Written Saturday, November 21st, 2009
Take my hand and lead me, to a place where there's no pain,
Where footsteps never fade beneath the snow,
Where there's no one you wished you didn't know.
Take my hand, and I will follow, as long as you are here,
But promise me, that you will never go,
You mean more to me than you could ever know.
I'm trying to fall without breaking in two
I'm trying to stay in this strength.
I'm feeling I'm flying but inside I'm dying away
I don't belong in this place.
Hold me tightly, help me to discover happiness,
A smile that I can plaster on my face,
A knowledge that I've found a better place.
Touch me gently, softly, and push the tears away,
Even though I'm failing the race,
Time, can be such a disgrace.
I feel so locked up in this world,
That I can't stand to be apart,
From the ones who've shaped my soul,
And the ones who've shaped my heart
Throwing caution to the wind,
When I'm running back from all things real.
Is this pain I feel?
I'm trying to fall without breaking in two
I'm trying to stay in this strength.
But I keep on fighting for the rest of my life,
I'll never find that better place,
If I keep trying to find strength,
I'll never see that smiling face,
Time, can be such a disgrace.
Alycia Dort
False Reality
Written December 4th, 2007.
It's been a while since I have sat down to write what's on my mind. Maybe I have just been too busy in my knowing infatuation, or maybe it's that I am so scared of knowing truth. Of knowing reality. These words flow from the pointed top of my freshly sharpened pencil quite freely, though at the same time, I feel quite hesitant to allow these palms to carry truth accross the smooth surface of these dusty sheets I have abandoned. I've lost the feeling of knowing reality can lie upon these pages, bound together, only for myself to see. I've forgotten. And now I begin my journey in searching for that same refuge I once knew. Perhaps this pencil, carrying a world of possibility, and dreams can replace this void within me.
I remember, at one point in my life- seeming to be quite distant- I had turned a shaking hand to a series of pages consisting of a cursive hand, bearing my true self. Though now i have filled my world with lies and false reality much so that I cannot even remember when, and why I had laid down my pencil, and exchanged it for a fictional life. Although surely my reasoning could not have been worth this dreaded darkness I had walked myself into, within all contiousness. I lost track of the light guiding me through that journey- giving in to small temptations at each arm posessing oppertunity. A bleek sadness could have crossed my face though I would not have noticed, for I had become blind. A sort of blind that brought me to see a life of fiction, and worry, trouble, and tears. A blindness that you would read about in books. Though, of course it should be- For that is what became my refuge I came to need and "thrive" upon. A fictional story that I, alone, could create within my own desires, and mind, and mix within the reality that bore me, until there became no difference.
I traded in pieces of me, for pieces of that character I had felt compelled in creating. That girl who lie upon a sheet of parchment within the bounds of a book. A book I could lose myself easily to, and fall into a state of absense from this world. It was not the girl who shall stare back at me each time I dare to look upon my reflection. THAT girl was trapped. Trapped inside of that book that had once been my life. The book that I traded in, to become a fictional. I guess nothing had been good enough for me, for greed and selfishness washed over me like a sea of water, and I began to need more. More of the darkness that became my new truth.
Many oppertunities to burn these pages filled of fictional truth came to me, though I resisted the offer of light. Such an offer should have been immediately accepted by my open arms, though somehow my darkness overcame my own light. The two would clash, as they shared no similiarity, though I guess I had become head over heels with this world I created- It became my infatuation. It was a book of my very own. A staged performance. And not only was I every single actor, but also the chorus, and director, the producer, the choreographer- And the world around me, the world of reality, well, they were my audience.
Nothing else mattered, did it?
Every story has an ending. I believe that in fiction, and I believe that in truth. And this is the only truth that has made its own way through the darkened path which i have chosen to travel by. I hold onto it quite tightly, hoping that it will help me find the world of reality I had once known. For that will be my ending. My happy ending. Until that day comes, let this ending remain unwritten.
Alycia Dort
Written December 4th, 2007.
It's been a while since I have sat down to write what's on my mind. Maybe I have just been too busy in my knowing infatuation, or maybe it's that I am so scared of knowing truth. Of knowing reality. These words flow from the pointed top of my freshly sharpened pencil quite freely, though at the same time, I feel quite hesitant to allow these palms to carry truth accross the smooth surface of these dusty sheets I have abandoned. I've lost the feeling of knowing reality can lie upon these pages, bound together, only for myself to see. I've forgotten. And now I begin my journey in searching for that same refuge I once knew. Perhaps this pencil, carrying a world of possibility, and dreams can replace this void within me.
I remember, at one point in my life- seeming to be quite distant- I had turned a shaking hand to a series of pages consisting of a cursive hand, bearing my true self. Though now i have filled my world with lies and false reality much so that I cannot even remember when, and why I had laid down my pencil, and exchanged it for a fictional life. Although surely my reasoning could not have been worth this dreaded darkness I had walked myself into, within all contiousness. I lost track of the light guiding me through that journey- giving in to small temptations at each arm posessing oppertunity. A bleek sadness could have crossed my face though I would not have noticed, for I had become blind. A sort of blind that brought me to see a life of fiction, and worry, trouble, and tears. A blindness that you would read about in books. Though, of course it should be- For that is what became my refuge I came to need and "thrive" upon. A fictional story that I, alone, could create within my own desires, and mind, and mix within the reality that bore me, until there became no difference.
I traded in pieces of me, for pieces of that character I had felt compelled in creating. That girl who lie upon a sheet of parchment within the bounds of a book. A book I could lose myself easily to, and fall into a state of absense from this world. It was not the girl who shall stare back at me each time I dare to look upon my reflection. THAT girl was trapped. Trapped inside of that book that had once been my life. The book that I traded in, to become a fictional. I guess nothing had been good enough for me, for greed and selfishness washed over me like a sea of water, and I began to need more. More of the darkness that became my new truth.
Many oppertunities to burn these pages filled of fictional truth came to me, though I resisted the offer of light. Such an offer should have been immediately accepted by my open arms, though somehow my darkness overcame my own light. The two would clash, as they shared no similiarity, though I guess I had become head over heels with this world I created- It became my infatuation. It was a book of my very own. A staged performance. And not only was I every single actor, but also the chorus, and director, the producer, the choreographer- And the world around me, the world of reality, well, they were my audience.
Nothing else mattered, did it?
Every story has an ending. I believe that in fiction, and I believe that in truth. And this is the only truth that has made its own way through the darkened path which i have chosen to travel by. I hold onto it quite tightly, hoping that it will help me find the world of reality I had once known. For that will be my ending. My happy ending. Until that day comes, let this ending remain unwritten.
Alycia Dort
Saturday, April 17, 2010
58lbs!!!
Hey guys!
For a while now, I have been working VERY hard to reach a very important goal of mine: Weightloss.
Health and fitness is something that hits home with me, because I've spent next to my entire life being chubby, and then overweight, and then morbidly obese. I cannot remember a time that I have been physically fit, or even happy with my body, and last August (2009), I decided I'd had enough of it.
As cliche as this may sound, I had been watching The Biggest Loser tv series online, and Tara Costa (Season 7) had opened up in one of her many video diaries. I totally understood where she was coming from, and by the end of her speal, I had tears rolling down my face!! :P
That's what drove me to get my butt to a gym, heehee!
I joined one of my local gyms, Nubody's, which is now owned by Good Life Fitness centers, with locations all across Canada. (I think they're planning to place some GoodLife clubs in the United States, too!!)
I was given a personal trainer, Josh, and 8 months later (today), I have lost a total of 58LBS!!! I am soooo happy, and super proud of myself!!
I am still categorized as being "Overweight" according to BMI charts, however I am as fit as I have ever been. I am running a 10k in May, and then a 15k in October, and a half Marathon next February!
I was inspired to write another blog today, because I wanted to reach out to everyone- Not only those who are "overweight" or "obese" but every single person out there who isn't happy with their lives. Change is gradual, but gradual change has staying power!
At the end of the day, nobody can save you but yourself. It is the first step that's the hardest, but once you're over that bump, it's a long, rewarding experience ahead of you, I promise!!
Let yourself be happy!
What have you done today to make yourself proud?
205lbs
190lbs
185lbs
160lbs
155lbs
150lbs
147lbs!
Always smile!
And remember... You CAN do it!
-Alycia :) xoxox
For a while now, I have been working VERY hard to reach a very important goal of mine: Weightloss.
Health and fitness is something that hits home with me, because I've spent next to my entire life being chubby, and then overweight, and then morbidly obese. I cannot remember a time that I have been physically fit, or even happy with my body, and last August (2009), I decided I'd had enough of it.
As cliche as this may sound, I had been watching The Biggest Loser tv series online, and Tara Costa (Season 7) had opened up in one of her many video diaries. I totally understood where she was coming from, and by the end of her speal, I had tears rolling down my face!! :P
That's what drove me to get my butt to a gym, heehee!
I joined one of my local gyms, Nubody's, which is now owned by Good Life Fitness centers, with locations all across Canada. (I think they're planning to place some GoodLife clubs in the United States, too!!)
I was given a personal trainer, Josh, and 8 months later (today), I have lost a total of 58LBS!!! I am soooo happy, and super proud of myself!!
I am still categorized as being "Overweight" according to BMI charts, however I am as fit as I have ever been. I am running a 10k in May, and then a 15k in October, and a half Marathon next February!
I was inspired to write another blog today, because I wanted to reach out to everyone- Not only those who are "overweight" or "obese" but every single person out there who isn't happy with their lives. Change is gradual, but gradual change has staying power!
At the end of the day, nobody can save you but yourself. It is the first step that's the hardest, but once you're over that bump, it's a long, rewarding experience ahead of you, I promise!!
Let yourself be happy!
What have you done today to make yourself proud?
205lbs
185lbs
160lbs
155lbs
150lbs
147lbs!
Always smile!
And remember... You CAN do it!
-Alycia :) xoxox
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