(no subject)
and now i remember the end of my first semester at whitman, and how i thought i would never find a home there, how the people weren't my kind of people, how the community formed too quickly arround me without ever making a space for me... and of course i was dead wrong. and today there are whispers of hope, and i feel a trace of sadness that i'll go home before those hopes can raise their voices, as it were. humberto, the large gay boy, smiled his buddha smile and said he wants to come to san francisco. jael asked who she'd create new bizarre worlds with, once i am gone. josue invited me and mandy to his posada (christmas party). romina played 'doodle escalation' with me to take away the pain of mexican lit and asked for my e-mail address. why now? but it is a thaw in my newfrozen beliefs about what can and cannot be home. today my program director gave me back the little pagelong blurb i wrote at the beginning of the semester, and i couldn't help but chuckle. i'd written about how i came without expectations, hoping that way to be delighted by whatever i found. and i am, i think. after all, i don't believe in waste. next time, i'll stay a year. or three. or a week. or two days. the places i go will gently expand to fit me, and i will softly yield to fit them. slowly.
as for now, i have new pen pals!
as for now, i have new pen pals!