For the first time
6:10 am
I'm up earlier than everyone in my house. Not by much, really, just 30 or so minutes. But it's still something to rejoice about. I think I went to bed earlier than everyone else did too last night. I was trying to read Cinnamon Girl and went to sleep all over myself. I'm usually the keeper of the night, pondering thoughts that need to only be handled at daybreak and communicating on instant message, which does, shame the profundity of real conversation, but does, indubitably supply fodder, as contact does. I'm not quite sure where I'm going with this. Other than feeling congested, I'm hopeful. I think I'm leaving for Riverside sooner than I was getting used to saying, and it's leaving me a little confused and a little anxious all at once. Though summer will still be going on, I wonder if me arriving in that city will make me feel like it's ended for me. Ever felt caught between wanting to move forward (because ultimately, this is the right thing to do) and wanting to stay where you're at (because you're not ready to commit to the future)? That's where I'm at. Slowly though, silently too, I find myself becoming alright with the idea of planning my future and not letting it twist in the wind and me having to contort with it to act like I'm enjoying the experience rather than admitting that it's a game of endurance. In short, I'm going to try my hand at living on a budget and "earning" rewards rather than arbitrarily buying gifts for myself just because I "want" them. I wish it were easy to fall in love with discipline. Who knew the summer before the 5th year would be such an incubator for decision making and feigned maturity. Or is it feigned? I can't quite tell. I don't know where to go to figure it out. Do I pinch my cheeks, breasts, or hips to figure it out? Do I touch my mind and feel for tenderness or roughness? I'm not sure yet. Maybe that isn't for me to figure out.
I already decided a while ago that 2007 was going to be a good year, so no matter how much it makes me cry and struggle, how much it made me question goodness, luck, and for a couple of seconds, blessings. I've been in a very quiet and insular place as of late. My own little cocoon. I'd like to share some of my findings in the right settings: like over tea, or sitting crosslegged in a nice smelling room, or on a comfy couch, or in the middle of a well broken in conversation on the phone where the words are textured like old corduroy and the laughing feels like purple velvet.
Sometimes I want to be everywhere else, but I don't what I would be doing anywhere else. I think my thoughts are making me travel for free to the most bizarre and blissful places. It provides soundtrack music and free remix.
More thoughts later.
I'm up earlier than everyone in my house. Not by much, really, just 30 or so minutes. But it's still something to rejoice about. I think I went to bed earlier than everyone else did too last night. I was trying to read Cinnamon Girl and went to sleep all over myself. I'm usually the keeper of the night, pondering thoughts that need to only be handled at daybreak and communicating on instant message, which does, shame the profundity of real conversation, but does, indubitably supply fodder, as contact does. I'm not quite sure where I'm going with this. Other than feeling congested, I'm hopeful. I think I'm leaving for Riverside sooner than I was getting used to saying, and it's leaving me a little confused and a little anxious all at once. Though summer will still be going on, I wonder if me arriving in that city will make me feel like it's ended for me. Ever felt caught between wanting to move forward (because ultimately, this is the right thing to do) and wanting to stay where you're at (because you're not ready to commit to the future)? That's where I'm at. Slowly though, silently too, I find myself becoming alright with the idea of planning my future and not letting it twist in the wind and me having to contort with it to act like I'm enjoying the experience rather than admitting that it's a game of endurance. In short, I'm going to try my hand at living on a budget and "earning" rewards rather than arbitrarily buying gifts for myself just because I "want" them. I wish it were easy to fall in love with discipline. Who knew the summer before the 5th year would be such an incubator for decision making and feigned maturity. Or is it feigned? I can't quite tell. I don't know where to go to figure it out. Do I pinch my cheeks, breasts, or hips to figure it out? Do I touch my mind and feel for tenderness or roughness? I'm not sure yet. Maybe that isn't for me to figure out.
I already decided a while ago that 2007 was going to be a good year, so no matter how much it makes me cry and struggle, how much it made me question goodness, luck, and for a couple of seconds, blessings. I've been in a very quiet and insular place as of late. My own little cocoon. I'd like to share some of my findings in the right settings: like over tea, or sitting crosslegged in a nice smelling room, or on a comfy couch, or in the middle of a well broken in conversation on the phone where the words are textured like old corduroy and the laughing feels like purple velvet.
Sometimes I want to be everywhere else, but I don't what I would be doing anywhere else. I think my thoughts are making me travel for free to the most bizarre and blissful places. It provides soundtrack music and free remix.
More thoughts later.