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[faeriestear]

i'm in an interesting place right now, and i'm not really sure how to absorb it. i've started to realize for the first time in my life that i'm not meant to just internalize things, and in fact, i do get angry, jealous, frustrated, and i do need to express these emotions. maybe it's being among all these incredibly healthy people at wilson that's

Comments

[radio_for_two]

i recall a wintry season, just about a year ago, when I felt like Wilson was closing in around me-- that the cheery, tipsy faces of post-sixties hippies and cherrybark-tough farm boys had all turned from jovial to jeering, and that everyone was full of hot air, moonshine, and too much of a bad thing. I felt like I was suffocating, trying to please them, smile at them, use the slick shiny porcelain of my toothy grin to blind them, make them less terrifying, somehow vulnerable.

I remember pulling my skinny-jeans roommate out of her pulpy red haven of bedsheets and cracker crumbs to help me rifle through the recycling in the back corridor of Vining A. We found drained bottles of King Cobra and POM juice containers and anything else that looked glassy and breakable and loud. We loaded our arms up with sticky, shatter-worthy offerings, picked our way down to the concrete wall of Vining B, and hurled our fury (along with the glass) toward it.

I don't imagine that we were too smart, smashing things with incredible volume at 2 in the morning, right below the sleepy, drunken heads of fellow classmates, but I still suggest it as a (really) cathartic exercise for you. Find bottles. Find a wall. Break said bottles against said wall. Bring your broom and dustpan and clean up after youself (of course), but I think you'll find that after the first six or seven cups/jugs/mugs are sent careening toward cinderblocks, you won't mind the mess. In fact, you might feel like sitting right down in the middle of it.
Just be careful not to nick yourself on the shards.