Look Up

there's always time
pass me by
i'll be fine
there's always time

posted by Allison Francis @ 6:01 PM 1 comments

who are you: just one person. just allison. still in the makings, or at least the discoverings.

what are you doing: thinking too much, or maybe too little, about life and the people in it that make it important. also, lying in bed, getting ready to fall asleep and then wake up in three hours.

where are you going: the east coast, to escape and explore and adventure and hope.

recommend (something): telling the truth down to every last detail even stupid or embarrassing things that don't matter. (wow, that sounded cliche... but when you can look a person in the eyes and know you have never lied to them, it's a both liberating and frightening feeling.) also, writing letters. also, the book "extremely loud & incredibly close." there is another one, but i'm editing this for public publishing purposes.

what is your idea of a perfect day: i just don't really believe in perfect, but nowadays, i'd like to wake up next to bestfriends in a big ol' city like new york and prepare to play music together and eat delicious food (there is an empty plate of what used to be pad thai by my bed) and stay up late that night having real conversations.

what's your favorite quote:
i have lots. here are two:
"So, I guess we are who we are for a lot of reasons. And maybe we'll never know most of them. But even if we don't have the power to choose where we come from, we can still choose where we go from there. We can still do things. And we can try to feel okay about them." - from Perks
"When we first were friends you asked me what I believed in. I never answered. I believe in you. I believe in us."
- a text from a friend I got on the plane ride home in October

maybe you should fill this out.

posted by Allison Francis @ 2:44 AM 0 comments

Regardless of how seldom I write in this, I still feel as though an end-of-the-year entry would be nice. If nothing else, to give one giant "fuck you" to 2007. It was easily the worst year of my life, and I know I'm not the only one for whom that is true. I don't really need to say too much about that because everyone close to me knows some of the shit that went down and I don't feel a need to re-cap it.

In vintage Allison Francis form, however, I should recognize that if the worst year of my life also contained meeting people that would change my life, and change me - as well as the opportunity for a fresh start in an incredible city - then I remain blessed.

I can't say I'm feeling incredibly optimistic about 2008, because although 2007 is over, I am still exactly where it left me. We all are. And things still feel heavy. But in times like ours we have to take what we can get; we don't have a choice. So 2008, bring it on. But please take it easy.

"Sad to still be here, but happy to be alive
It seems the more one lives the less one thrives...

I raise my glass just one more time
Try to write another rhyme, a word that rhymes with hopeful...
for the new year"

posted by Allison Francis @ 9:20 PM 1 comments

The friendship anklet Lauren tied onto my ankle two summers ago just came off.

I'd been dreading this for so long.

Missing.

posted by Allison Francis @ 11:06 PM 0 comments

It's been exactly twelve days since October 23rd and exactly six months since May 4th. Those days that feel like the worst days of your life, they're not really, because you've still got further to fall and lower to feel. This isn't optimistic, because I don't feel optimistic. I have a friend who reads this blog and has commented a couple times how she admires my outlook - how, no matter what's going on, I'm able to see the beauty of life and humanity and the like.

But I feel like this Postsecret:


It's just getting difficult. It's not that I've stopped believing in all the good things, and that love is all you need. Frankly I just feel like the world has just stopped proving that I could be right. And I worry that even though love is all that matters, and the only thing that can transcend life and death and everything in between, love might not be enough.

I've been torn between two coasts, two lives. Last Friday my best friend from school put her headphones on my ears and played me a song that made me cry on the spot.

"I could stay here, become someone different.
I could stay here, become someone better.

It's hard to go into the city, because you wanna say 'I love you' to everybody
It's so hard to go into the city, because you wanna say, 'hey, I love you,' to everybody.

When we were teenagers, we wanted to be the sky..."

Sometimes you have to choose. So for now, I'll stay.

posted by Allison Francis @ 6:19 PM 0 comments

My college experience thus far involves the following.

• Drinking tea (de-caffinated at night, Oregon Chai when I'm feeling self-indulgent)
• Finding ways to avoid paying for public transportation. And food. Actually, anything, really.
• Lamenting the superiority of the west coast.
• A garbage truck that comes by my window every morning at 3 a.m.
• Letters to and from all over the place.
• Exercising spontanaeity whenever possible. The academic results of this are yet to be determined.
• Sharing books, poems, and music - while avoiding conversations with people who are snobbish about these.
• Power-walking down Commonwealth Avenue for Tuesday and Thursday classes.
• Vegan ice cream, cantelope, and grilled sandwiches from the West Campus Dining Hall.
• Distracting Liz Pelly from doing work.
• Making eye contact with strangers/wearing sunglasses like it's always bright out, depending on my mood.
• Finding myself in absurd situations with Amanda James.
• Facebooking during Sociology lectures - even more so after I found out it was a 242-level class. Oops?
• Being the token girl with the camera at parties.
• Convincing people to come visit Portland next summer (Lee Falls plans in the works).
• Acquiring a taste for fashion, namely novelties such as hats, glasses, and other accessories.
• Complaining about how broke I am while standing in line at the register.
• Being more motivated to go to the FitRec Center than to take a shower.
• Composing killer riffs in my group beginner piano class (using the headphones, since I'm not working on arpeggios).
• Looking for inspiration for new tattoos.
• Debating which concerts to go to.
• Nagging Colin to come visit.
• Watching the Office three hours earlier than everyone at home.
• Wishing I wasn't asleep when Alli has time to talk.
• Thinking about how Lauren would like everything I'm doing and the people I'm loving.
• Living.

"When there's nothing left to burn,
you have to set yourself on fire."

posted by Allison Francis @ 8:43 AM 0 comments

A life is time, they teach us growing up
The seconds ticking killed us all
a million years before the fall

I stepped outside to see the last moments of the eclipsed moon, but the trees blocked my view. My summer song drifted from inside and I looked up at the stars, wondering whether satellites or life moved faster.

From the corner of my eye, I saw the moon, nestled between hidden branches like a secret in the palm of a hand. Clouded and golden, it was beautiful. I looked up, my hands in my pockets, a cold tear on my cheek.

I miss you. I said it without words.

In this quiet night, the trees began to sway. The wind moaned softly and I listened, trusting. She told me I was going to be alright. I felt it everywhere. Just as gracefully, she drifted away, and the night was still.

I believe her.

posted by Allison Francis @ 3:46 AM 0 comments

A little while ago I was looking through old letters I'd written Lauren and I found one from last year (2006) saying something along the lines of, fuck. I'm going to lose you and I can't stand it and I want to be set free from it. So I'll just say goodbye now so we can go on living. Goodbye.

Well, I'm leaving for Boston in three weeks and I'm not ready but I won't be able to stop it, so, fuck. I don't even know if I want to go but I'm going and that's that. So I might as well stop worrying about not having enough time because that's always how it's been. I'm leaving, but I've got three weeks, so I'm going to live right here and now and see how that goes before I face anything else.

This summer has been so much different from all the other summers I've seen. After a bitter breaking-away from my high school life I'm left with decisions about where I want to be. Quite honestly it's been a time of struggling to get through all the missing and the sadness and the frustration to find (and more importantly, to hold onto) the warmth in my life. Because there's a lot of it, but being the inherently flawed human that I am... it's like I close my eyes to take a break from all this, and when I open them, I see myself pushing away from people and things that matter.

I'm just really trying to keep my eyes open.

posted by Allison Francis @ 2:02 PM 0 comments

Waiting for the Max underground a deep wind begins to build and chill us all, remniscent of the eerieness of dementors. The train shoots through the dark tunnel and I'm riding backwards, seeing what I've missed. Take me to the riot. Let a stranger transform. Let me stay.

I've said Portland would always be home. The sidewalks and the sky, even the pidgeons and burrito stands hold some sense of familiarity. Will I ever wake up in this town and feel there's nothing else for me here? Since you've been gone I am less interested in places I pass and people I see. I'm not sure why exactly that is.

Could I ever feel home again? Honestly?

The strangers who used to feel like soulmates are now just smiles looking past me. I see a ladder leaned against a bare ceiling and feel as if I've climbed it. People are just people, they shouldn't make you nervous. Has this city changed or have I? I see a boy soaring down the street in a wheelchair less than two blocks away from where I met him and didn't like him, at least six months ago.

It doesn't feel like home anymore.

Places I've been are vaguely familiar amongst change and new doorsteps. What has everyone been doing while I've been gone?

A nice girl in Backspace says she likes my shirt and doesn't judge me when I tell her it's just from Urban. Could we be friends beyond admiring each other's styes? Not that I'm planning on it. I'm just considering the possibilities. Anyway, I respect that she probably has reasons for her tattoos, but I don't understand them as of now.

How did I become so detached? Realization exhausts me a little.

Lauren, where did you go? I expect to see you in these places you'd like and feel comfortable in. Are you re-reading Harry Potter again? Come outside with me. I need to feel you.

Remembering her smile, and the nuclear bomb, and the reasons I loved her. I'm walking through Central Park; I'm in a foreign country, and I'm waiting for a sign. It's a hot summer day and I have goosebumps because I'm listening to "Begin" and looking up at the sky. Is that you? There's a girl sitting in the bench diagonally across from me. Is she wearing heavy boots? God, I used to be so in love with the world. How could the abscence of one person make me feel so alone and disillusioned?

A homeless lady passes in front of me, looks at the ground, and rolls right along. The girl has left. "The city's changing, because we are changing. We are all in this together." Don't forget. Can everyone see how I need them? I need their eyes locked to mine, our shoulders brushing, our worlds colliding.

When I leave, will I come back here; will everything be as I left it?

I saw you crying; I started crying
because we're all in this together.

I want to believe.

But I read with every broken heart we should become more adventurous. If I knew where I was supposed to be, I would go there. I would sacrifice money and heaven for love. But I would rather it found me.

I feel a faint sense of comfort when I am taking a picture of the graffitied wall across the street and a taxi driver slows down so as to avoid getting in the way. For the first time today I look directly into someone's eyes. Even the slightest comfort can be dire in moods like the one I am in. Sitting in a park of bricks, I get a paper cut, and everyone around me seems to be on drugs. I could be standing outside a broken telephone booth with money in my hand.

Walk from Chinatown to the Pearl District to downtown Portland. Where have I gone?

On the train home a woman is reading a book called something like "The Terrible Things Men Do." Did someone hurt her or is she afraid or is it something else? The Max is filled with tired-looking people and I wonder if I've got anything to give but questions which, quite honestly, I do not know if I want the answers to.

If anyone has tried to talk to me, I haven't noticed. I've been trying to stop listening to music that makes me sad, but every song is about love and I can't help but feel melancholy.

What now, kid?
Which way, love?

posted by Allison Francis @ 6:15 PM 1 comments

I'm reading this book, "Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close." I'll be honest; although the language of the book is not notably advanced, I don't always know what's going on, but it brings me near tears every other page. Granted, that's not really hard to do, with me. It's just, I live for those books whose words touch you so intimately, so honestly. Books that articulate truths that maybe you understand, but have never been able to explain, or books that expose universal truths that are difficult to acknowledge, especially to yourself.

"She wants to know if I love her, that’s all anyone wants from anyone else, not love itself but the knowledge that love is there, like new batteries in the flashlight in the emergency kit in the hall closet."

Is that true? Is reassurance, not love, all we need? I don't know that it's all that pretty a truth, but I think I believe it. I think logically most of us understand that we are loved. But if that were all that mattered, it wouldn't hurt, it wouldn't scare us, when someone could not or would not say "I love you," back to us, or otherwise. I guess it only becomes scary when you already love the person. "To protect yourself from sadness, you also must protect yourself from happiness."

I don't really feel like this is going anywhere. Since I've been reading this book my writing only feels more inadequate. Journalism major? Really? I feel like I need to cue the "Hercules" theme music or something ("I would go most anywhere to feeeel, like I belonggg!"), and I feel like I am just like every other college freshman... ever. Which is fine, I guess, since that's what I am. Ha, even though it feels like a lie or a joke to say.

"I thought, it’s a shame we have to live, but it’s a tragedy that we get to live only one life, because if I’d had two lives, I would have spent one of them with her."

Ask yourself what you are protecting in the parts of your heart that you don't allow even yourself to see.

posted by Allison Francis @ 10:32 AM 0 comments