You're my favorite bird and when you sing
Sometimes I fear that I have lost my ability to write based on the fact that my pre-college live-journal updates were frequent, and now they've petered down to an abysmally slow pace. I used to think things during the day, wonderful prose that would make it's way here at the end of the day-- and now it seems to have just found an end at sleep and is gone by the next sloppily slept-in morning.
The other day was a day of small victories: opening at work, walking up the same way I walk when I back to the dorms in the winter, only noticing the difference in the seasons- the buildings where I see flakes perch in winter were totally sunbaked & windblown. Usually when I go to pee at work, I find the bathroom quite disheveled, and the toilet paper always needs to be changed. For the first time the other day there was a fresh roll of toilet paper. I smiled quite widely at this.
Sometimes I feel very alone even though I know I shouldn't. I live a wonderful life, I have glorious friends & a burning desire to do something. Sometimes stupid things get me into this funk-- people around me being down, the failure of a sewing project, the fact that it's two in the morning and I can't call anyone to cry on and simply say I'm upset and I don't know why, so God damn-it, and what else?
I have the remnants of a sinus infection still in my head. I'm blowing out snot that's about as green as my Human Centered Design class and the entire population of Northern California. (and CA was incredible, btw. (Michelle: I'm so sorry I never contacted you! I was so swamped with travel plans before hand & our hosts had LOTS of stuff planned for us! Matti and I are going to head back out that way when we're 21-- so beware northerners in your part of the country in 2010! :) ))
Other times I feel as though I've learned nothing from myself. That the mistakes I've made are passing & irrelevant things, and by re-doing them only slightly differently I've spared myself a similar fate as a previous version of me. Smart! I'd like a lot of things to be as they were last summer, which is always the situation with life. Everything in the past is bigger & better & more simple with better times and fresher emotions-- when really, it's just ignorance & lack of communication & worse music & younger age. I wish a lot of things would go back to how they were-- but at the same time I'm begging for a change of scenery and things to do. I want change and yet I hate when it happens. Ugh. We humans are fickle and incisive beings.
I would like more than anything to go back to a summer night in Ellen's living room, sitting on the floor, all of us, together watching movies, getting rides, and not-so grown-up with two jobs apiece and active military service & MIPs. Perhaps I'm still unresolved with my impending guilt of college drama or inability to rescue my friends from the 'single' barren wasteland. I want to write freely and badly and I want something just beyond my reach so badly it hurts.
I swear, next time I'll write when something fantastic happens.
The other day was a day of small victories: opening at work, walking up the same way I walk when I back to the dorms in the winter, only noticing the difference in the seasons- the buildings where I see flakes perch in winter were totally sunbaked & windblown. Usually when I go to pee at work, I find the bathroom quite disheveled, and the toilet paper always needs to be changed. For the first time the other day there was a fresh roll of toilet paper. I smiled quite widely at this.
Sometimes I feel very alone even though I know I shouldn't. I live a wonderful life, I have glorious friends & a burning desire to do something. Sometimes stupid things get me into this funk-- people around me being down, the failure of a sewing project, the fact that it's two in the morning and I can't call anyone to cry on and simply say I'm upset and I don't know why, so God damn-it, and what else?
I have the remnants of a sinus infection still in my head. I'm blowing out snot that's about as green as my Human Centered Design class and the entire population of Northern California. (and CA was incredible, btw. (Michelle: I'm so sorry I never contacted you! I was so swamped with travel plans before hand & our hosts had LOTS of stuff planned for us! Matti and I are going to head back out that way when we're 21-- so beware northerners in your part of the country in 2010! :) ))
Other times I feel as though I've learned nothing from myself. That the mistakes I've made are passing & irrelevant things, and by re-doing them only slightly differently I've spared myself a similar fate as a previous version of me. Smart! I'd like a lot of things to be as they were last summer, which is always the situation with life. Everything in the past is bigger & better & more simple with better times and fresher emotions-- when really, it's just ignorance & lack of communication & worse music & younger age. I wish a lot of things would go back to how they were-- but at the same time I'm begging for a change of scenery and things to do. I want change and yet I hate when it happens. Ugh. We humans are fickle and incisive beings.
I would like more than anything to go back to a summer night in Ellen's living room, sitting on the floor, all of us, together watching movies, getting rides, and not-so grown-up with two jobs apiece and active military service & MIPs. Perhaps I'm still unresolved with my impending guilt of college drama or inability to rescue my friends from the 'single' barren wasteland. I want to write freely and badly and I want something just beyond my reach so badly it hurts.
I swear, next time I'll write when something fantastic happens.