(no subject)
well, here i am. brand new town, brand new job, brand new apartment, brand new hour's worth of Shakespeare to memorize in three weeks.
i am going through withdrawal, i think it's safe to say my heart was opening up, and my roots were starting to settle in to JC, but now I've been ripped up -- of my own volition, granted -- but it still hurts.
i had found my niche -- its easy to do in a small town, and now i'm setting back out into the big ol world again, unknown, unwept, unsung --
fuckit, fuckit. its a mystery, this life, and its a mystery to me where i'll end up -- what's known is that i will propell myself there, and i will find it, i swear.
this life is too short. i can love anywhere. i miss you all. i would scoop you into my arms for the largest hug ever, friends everywhere, on LJ, not on LJ, friends dead, friends living.
i must be brave, so as not to let my heart atrophy, but to keep it raw and bared. i could slip back into aloofness -- certainly i've not shaken it off completely, but i was working on it. and life's too short, too short to live closed up and silent.
this shakespeare, he knew, that when you speak, when you form will into words, you change your reality; that words themselves are our reality -- that we define our meaning against the maelstrom of meaninglessness, keep it at bay while we can.
so let me say (as a dear friend said to me over a toast of whiskey): here's to everything.
vague, perhaps, but it covers it all.
i am going through withdrawal, i think it's safe to say my heart was opening up, and my roots were starting to settle in to JC, but now I've been ripped up -- of my own volition, granted -- but it still hurts.
i had found my niche -- its easy to do in a small town, and now i'm setting back out into the big ol world again, unknown, unwept, unsung --
fuckit, fuckit. its a mystery, this life, and its a mystery to me where i'll end up -- what's known is that i will propell myself there, and i will find it, i swear.
this life is too short. i can love anywhere. i miss you all. i would scoop you into my arms for the largest hug ever, friends everywhere, on LJ, not on LJ, friends dead, friends living.
i must be brave, so as not to let my heart atrophy, but to keep it raw and bared. i could slip back into aloofness -- certainly i've not shaken it off completely, but i was working on it. and life's too short, too short to live closed up and silent.
this shakespeare, he knew, that when you speak, when you form will into words, you change your reality; that words themselves are our reality -- that we define our meaning against the maelstrom of meaninglessness, keep it at bay while we can.
so let me say (as a dear friend said to me over a toast of whiskey): here's to everything.
vague, perhaps, but it covers it all.