(no subject)
Lauren's song "Telescopes" wraps me up and holds me. I don't think I talked to her once at Camp, but her music is incredible. It makes me emotional - or brings out the emotion I'm already feeling.
This morning I felt my heart breaking in the big way that it does sometimes: for the world, my generation, my species, the people sitting next to me on the bus. I stared into the eyes of this little girl across from me and wanted to cry and say, "What are we doing, honey, what are we doing to ourselves?"
I saw the best minds of my generation...
So maybe it's not all that surprising that tonight I'm feeling my rib cage expand and try to swallow the world whole. My palms want to hold something important and pivotal in them, my eyes want to love so many people, my arms want to be long enough to reach around us all. I wrote some tonight with sharpies on big, brown paper. It felt good, though I was so detached from it that I wasn't too impressed with myself - even though I've been trying to get myself to write for days/weeks.
I need to be careful with me in this state of mind, though. I can start loving people too much. I can get too attached.
Which, speaking of: I'm going to be lonely when * is gone. I wonder if I'd be jealous if she lived here, in Portland, and not across the country. I think I would. There is definitely part of this that involves holding my breath and not thinking things entirely through. But I do that now and then and usually it works out just find for me, thank you.
I tell myself that I don't use my LJs to communicate with people in an aroundabout way, but sometimes I do. I want to tell people things, but don't know how. * keeps reminding me I can say things, but I'm still afraid to. I'd rather turn my head and say the words to the wall then look you in the eyes. I need to be inside myself, with walls between me and you, to be that vulnerable - and sometimes all that being that vulnerable entrails is saying, "You are an amazing person. The more time I spend with you, the more I realize how deep you are. I want to know you."
I hate myself for being this erradic emotionally, but I also love these quiet peaceful times.
This morning I felt my heart breaking in the big way that it does sometimes: for the world, my generation, my species, the people sitting next to me on the bus. I stared into the eyes of this little girl across from me and wanted to cry and say, "What are we doing, honey, what are we doing to ourselves?"
I saw the best minds of my generation...
So maybe it's not all that surprising that tonight I'm feeling my rib cage expand and try to swallow the world whole. My palms want to hold something important and pivotal in them, my eyes want to love so many people, my arms want to be long enough to reach around us all. I wrote some tonight with sharpies on big, brown paper. It felt good, though I was so detached from it that I wasn't too impressed with myself - even though I've been trying to get myself to write for days/weeks.
I need to be careful with me in this state of mind, though. I can start loving people too much. I can get too attached.
Which, speaking of: I'm going to be lonely when * is gone. I wonder if I'd be jealous if she lived here, in Portland, and not across the country. I think I would. There is definitely part of this that involves holding my breath and not thinking things entirely through. But I do that now and then and usually it works out just find for me, thank you.
I tell myself that I don't use my LJs to communicate with people in an aroundabout way, but sometimes I do. I want to tell people things, but don't know how. * keeps reminding me I can say things, but I'm still afraid to. I'd rather turn my head and say the words to the wall then look you in the eyes. I need to be inside myself, with walls between me and you, to be that vulnerable - and sometimes all that being that vulnerable entrails is saying, "You are an amazing person. The more time I spend with you, the more I realize how deep you are. I want to know you."
I hate myself for being this erradic emotionally, but I also love these quiet peaceful times.