(no subject)
started cleaning out boxes today, full of old journals and pictures, notes and birthday cards, empty cd cases, warranties and license agreements to every electronic device i have ever owned, ticket stubs, sheet music, poems. basically boxes full of my life for the past six years that had been stuffed into drawers waiting to be dealt with someday. well. someday came, and most of everything went into a giant bag of trash, because i have no use for those scraps of paper. no use for my seventh-grade sentiments scrawled in purple ink with heart-dotted i's and inside jokes that i no longer remember. a little sad. a little liberating.
but my house though is thrilling, ikea-laden, and big. there is a pond with red fish in the backyard surrounded by yuccas that look like pineapples. basically, i wish i were living here.
friends are trickling back slowly, but it is exciting seeing them all again. in a sense, no one has changed, but in a sense, everyone has. you know how it is. c'est la vie. i am not sure whether i fall back into the same niche, however, because in spirit i am still somewhat in that abbrev-talking, argyle-wearing, dock-shot-obsessed world, feeling like my equilibrium is a little bit off.
though it is, of course, so nice to be home. it's also sixty-five degrees. christmas indeed.
but my house though is thrilling, ikea-laden, and big. there is a pond with red fish in the backyard surrounded by yuccas that look like pineapples. basically, i wish i were living here.
friends are trickling back slowly, but it is exciting seeing them all again. in a sense, no one has changed, but in a sense, everyone has. you know how it is. c'est la vie. i am not sure whether i fall back into the same niche, however, because in spirit i am still somewhat in that abbrev-talking, argyle-wearing, dock-shot-obsessed world, feeling like my equilibrium is a little bit off.
though it is, of course, so nice to be home. it's also sixty-five degrees. christmas indeed.