[[i miss challah bread and grape juice already.]]
for me, lately, there has been more past around than is per usual. do you know what i mean? there has been a lot to remind me of who i've been, and what i'd forgotten and what i'd been fixating on for years. also, lots to make me think about the future. it's college there has to be a goal, right? it's an interesting place to be in my head. living in a present that is so new and thinking, primarily, about what was and what will be.
i've been writing more and in a different way. i love new places. and new routines. i feel so very strange. there is an uneasy comfort in striking this strange balance between my two realities. i never knew anything could be this hard or this good for my heart.
my bed is very narrow, and very long. it's not very comfortable and my room is usually stuffy and too hot. i like it though. i haven't been sleeping very well. i woke exhausted this morning and walked around not really doing anything that needed to get done. after lunch i took a nap, and when i woke up i was sweaty and my muscles felt strange. i opened the shade and swung the windows wide open on their hinges. i put on a loose shirt and eyeliner and swept up the broken glass at the end of the bed. the air made me feel a little more real. then i looked out the window for a little too long.
sometimes it's hard when i close my eyes and can only remember pressure, in different ways, pressure. the way i used to lie. and the pressure that i put myself under. the pressure of the past and how the real past is different then what i remember, and what i tell people. the pressure of your body on and in mine and how it's hard when it's the best pressure i've felt. the pressure of time. the pressure of mirrors and crazies. and love.
love is a word that i have mangled over the years. and it's strange. because sometimes vocabulary so terribly limits the ways you can explain yourself and the feelings you have. and you just have to play silent and touch. i love too much, and it's one of my favourite parts about living. but its hard and necessary to explain to some people just how it is for me, and just how it was. because i've said i love you so many times and meant so many different things.
i like here though. the grass and the sky and the air and the ice cream. i won't stay here for four years. but sometimes it's nice to play perspectives. and to see how people can live. not to say i have anymore of an idea of what i am, or what i will be. but i'm hopeful. and getting productive in a way that i have never been.
i might not have talked to you so much in last week, but i will. be sure i am not leaving anything i have loved. i am just learning to live a different way.
also, i am eating a lot of delicious food, which is terrific and also great.
i've been writing more and in a different way. i love new places. and new routines. i feel so very strange. there is an uneasy comfort in striking this strange balance between my two realities. i never knew anything could be this hard or this good for my heart.
my bed is very narrow, and very long. it's not very comfortable and my room is usually stuffy and too hot. i like it though. i haven't been sleeping very well. i woke exhausted this morning and walked around not really doing anything that needed to get done. after lunch i took a nap, and when i woke up i was sweaty and my muscles felt strange. i opened the shade and swung the windows wide open on their hinges. i put on a loose shirt and eyeliner and swept up the broken glass at the end of the bed. the air made me feel a little more real. then i looked out the window for a little too long.
sometimes it's hard when i close my eyes and can only remember pressure, in different ways, pressure. the way i used to lie. and the pressure that i put myself under. the pressure of the past and how the real past is different then what i remember, and what i tell people. the pressure of your body on and in mine and how it's hard when it's the best pressure i've felt. the pressure of time. the pressure of mirrors and crazies. and love.
love is a word that i have mangled over the years. and it's strange. because sometimes vocabulary so terribly limits the ways you can explain yourself and the feelings you have. and you just have to play silent and touch. i love too much, and it's one of my favourite parts about living. but its hard and necessary to explain to some people just how it is for me, and just how it was. because i've said i love you so many times and meant so many different things.
i like here though. the grass and the sky and the air and the ice cream. i won't stay here for four years. but sometimes it's nice to play perspectives. and to see how people can live. not to say i have anymore of an idea of what i am, or what i will be. but i'm hopeful. and getting productive in a way that i have never been.
i might not have talked to you so much in last week, but i will. be sure i am not leaving anything i have loved. i am just learning to live a different way.
also, i am eating a lot of delicious food, which is terrific and also great.