(no subject)
hmm...
today was a trash day..just one of those weird days when strange things make it into the garbage along with my used tissues and that half-eaten bag of almonds that i found in the bottom of my Chloe: my govt teacher's phone number, my close friend's pregnancy test, my heart. this year has been one the most unsettling and strangest years ever and i suppose the things i discard along the way are a testament to that strangeness. im facing my final months in highschool, about to leave my friends, my family, and the closest semblance of normal, steady life i've ever had in my youth. its ironic that the place that i've become the most attached to, the people that i've become the most attached to, and the home that i've become the most attached to are all the ones that i have to willingly give up. its no question of involuntary moving with the family anymore...its just me, on my own terms. i don't know where i'll be in a year, or what i'll be doing, but i know that i'll be there as a changed person. no matter how much i long to go back to the easy days of 3rd grade, there's no denying that i've grown up, i'm not daddy's little girl any longer: the other things i've thrown away are evidence to this. the starbucks cup, venti: a guilty reminder of my blossoming coffee addiction, the shredded envelope from wescom that held the PIN to my checking account, the stack of notes from my political systems class detailing the most inner workings of our nations government. there's no denying it, i'm not a little girl any more. i wonder what these things say about me ?
could a stranger know brittany by what she so carelessly throws away ? and not just literal trash, but the metaphorical: the friendships and the boys and the relationships i've lost as well... [god knows i've thrown away many of those this year.] would a pattern emerge, lending me some strange predictability that i haven't had in my life thus far ? or would i remain the me that i know...inconsistent and unpredictable, a mess of thoughts, emotions, and actions ? or maybe living this year and actually surviving is is what has lent me this predictability and i just haven't seen it yet. everyday there's another starbucks cup, more tissues, and even the first draft of this letter, as i rewrite these pages with a clearer mind...and always, always some other startling object lying at the bottom of my trash can. the makings of a pattern ? or just the cast away items of a very mixed up eighteen year old girl ?
today was a trash day..just one of those weird days when strange things make it into the garbage along with my used tissues and that half-eaten bag of almonds that i found in the bottom of my Chloe: my govt teacher's phone number, my close friend's pregnancy test, my heart. this year has been one the most unsettling and strangest years ever and i suppose the things i discard along the way are a testament to that strangeness. im facing my final months in highschool, about to leave my friends, my family, and the closest semblance of normal, steady life i've ever had in my youth. its ironic that the place that i've become the most attached to, the people that i've become the most attached to, and the home that i've become the most attached to are all the ones that i have to willingly give up. its no question of involuntary moving with the family anymore...its just me, on my own terms. i don't know where i'll be in a year, or what i'll be doing, but i know that i'll be there as a changed person. no matter how much i long to go back to the easy days of 3rd grade, there's no denying that i've grown up, i'm not daddy's little girl any longer: the other things i've thrown away are evidence to this. the starbucks cup, venti: a guilty reminder of my blossoming coffee addiction, the shredded envelope from wescom that held the PIN to my checking account, the stack of notes from my political systems class detailing the most inner workings of our nations government. there's no denying it, i'm not a little girl any more. i wonder what these things say about me ?
could a stranger know brittany by what she so carelessly throws away ? and not just literal trash, but the metaphorical: the friendships and the boys and the relationships i've lost as well... [god knows i've thrown away many of those this year.] would a pattern emerge, lending me some strange predictability that i haven't had in my life thus far ? or would i remain the me that i know...inconsistent and unpredictable, a mess of thoughts, emotions, and actions ? or maybe living this year and actually surviving is is what has lent me this predictability and i just haven't seen it yet. everyday there's another starbucks cup, more tissues, and even the first draft of this letter, as i rewrite these pages with a clearer mind...and always, always some other startling object lying at the bottom of my trash can. the makings of a pattern ? or just the cast away items of a very mixed up eighteen year old girl ?