the Species.
I'm sorry that this is the only thing that has prompted me to write in over three weeks, but here you have it. I was just reading the endangered species list for California and wanted to cry. It's only second to Hawaii's, and if you have any idea about what has happened to Hawaii and all of it's native plants and animals, then you probably understand. I have to wonder whether it is just natural for everything to die out and change, or whether it's really something that should be stopped? And whether the only difference now is that we keep track of it, so we know how it's dying and changing, even though it has been happening for longer than we've even existed. What if Dinosaurs had been saved? I know, the ice age, but I just think about how we are creatures of pattern and happen, and in a second are ready to put up defenses against change.
Sometimes I hate how easily I see any two sides of an argument. It makes me a very indecisive person. I'm thinking about finishing school, and how it's further away than it seems (next May, technically) and how one more year of school sounds so impossibly unbearable. But nobody wants to do their last year of school, right? That isn't a reason to quit. It's just that school for me is what I get out of it, and I feel like I've gotten all I'm going to get for it. I feel like I'm going backwards. Like I am unlearning all of the things I've worked so hard to learn and value. I keep thinking about Clare in Six Feet Under, which I realize is silly, and art school and how she has to draw a perfect circle. I feel like that, only like I have to learn how to write the perfect song, which I will never do. Songs are not exercises, they are art, no matter how pretentious it sounds.
But I've been enjoying summer. Getting up before the sun rises some days to go to work and serve coffee to impatient customers, riding by bike to back bay and home, cooking dinner when I have time, talking to Adam on the phone all the time, trying to be better and learn and change, but keep the good parts. Trips to the beach when I can, my first big city fireworks and fresh lemonade, a carnival by the ocean, funnel cake, the ferris wheel, collecting pretty rocks quietly off the sand, breaking my pinky toe, holding Brad's kitten Bowser, wiping the blood from Alex's nose when Bowser scratched him, my friends' band's debut show, meeting friends of old friends from California, the new Jolie Holland record, my roof, an inordinate amount of Trader Joe's sorbet, a new roommate in one month, a record that's almost finished, long nights in Leominster and trips on the commuter rail, getting dizzy from all the scenery going by, trying my best to write new songs, having a crush, being in love, and waiting patiently for Greta's return from Germany.
I know it is a long list and very crammed. Even though sometimes summer and I feel empty together, that's just how things are looking now I guess.
Sometimes I hate how easily I see any two sides of an argument. It makes me a very indecisive person. I'm thinking about finishing school, and how it's further away than it seems (next May, technically) and how one more year of school sounds so impossibly unbearable. But nobody wants to do their last year of school, right? That isn't a reason to quit. It's just that school for me is what I get out of it, and I feel like I've gotten all I'm going to get for it. I feel like I'm going backwards. Like I am unlearning all of the things I've worked so hard to learn and value. I keep thinking about Clare in Six Feet Under, which I realize is silly, and art school and how she has to draw a perfect circle. I feel like that, only like I have to learn how to write the perfect song, which I will never do. Songs are not exercises, they are art, no matter how pretentious it sounds.
But I've been enjoying summer. Getting up before the sun rises some days to go to work and serve coffee to impatient customers, riding by bike to back bay and home, cooking dinner when I have time, talking to Adam on the phone all the time, trying to be better and learn and change, but keep the good parts. Trips to the beach when I can, my first big city fireworks and fresh lemonade, a carnival by the ocean, funnel cake, the ferris wheel, collecting pretty rocks quietly off the sand, breaking my pinky toe, holding Brad's kitten Bowser, wiping the blood from Alex's nose when Bowser scratched him, my friends' band's debut show, meeting friends of old friends from California, the new Jolie Holland record, my roof, an inordinate amount of Trader Joe's sorbet, a new roommate in one month, a record that's almost finished, long nights in Leominster and trips on the commuter rail, getting dizzy from all the scenery going by, trying my best to write new songs, having a crush, being in love, and waiting patiently for Greta's return from Germany.
I know it is a long list and very crammed. Even though sometimes summer and I feel empty together, that's just how things are looking now I guess.