Life's Simple Pleasures

So in Idea Development a couple weeks ago, I had to make a list of "activities that give you pleasure," on the basis that too many people feel that they can only write when they're depressed. After we made this list, we had to pick one item and write a story about it, or flesh out the experience or something. It reminded me of this one day I was at the grocery (argh, Monique always says that, I picked it up from her accidentally) with one of my suitemates, and she said how she feels that there are certain things when we're little kids that are really fun, and always just great, but we forget about them as we grow older, and how wonderful they are. I knew exactly what she meant - simple, little things that are just good. So I decided that since I was feeling so down the other night, I should make a list of awesome little things that are just good.


-- Blowing bubbles. (I took pictures of myself blowing bubbles at Island Heights the other day, for my digital photography class. It was the first time I'd done that in a while, and it was amazing.)
-- Staying up all night and watching the sun rise.
-- Milk and cookies, and an afternoon nap.
-- Cookies in general.
-- Naps in general. Planned naps, rather.
-- Coloring in coloring books. Or on place mats in restauarants.
-- Ice pops. Or ice cream from an ice cream truck.
-- Watching a movie you like that you haven't seen in a while.
-- Curling up on a cold day in a blanket with a mug of something steamy and a good book/movie/music.
-- "To dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free."
-- Fruit snacks.
-- Cartoons.
-- Cereal box and Cracker Jack prizes.
-- Dancing in the rain and puddle-stomping.
-- Getting mail.
-- Running through sprinklers.
-- Watching the sun set, letting dusk settle on you, and then watching the moon rise.
-- Driving with the windows down with fun music blasting, singing at the top of your lungs.
-- Swinging on swings. (In the moonlight, if you're Sark!)
-- Blanket forts. (More Sark.)
-- Fireworks.
-- The Sunday "funnies."
-- Hot baths.
-- Good hugs. Not limp ones or too-tight squeezes, but good hugs.
-- Homemade dessert. Really, homemade anything.
-- Throwing your slippers in the dryer for five minutes before putting them on. Ditto bath robe. Ditto anything, really.
-- Christmas morning.
-- Quote books.
-- Pillow fights.
-- Running into or hearing from an old friend you haven't talked to in a while.
-- Giving gifts for no reason.
-- Stickers.
-- Bike rides on nice days.
-- Receiving sincere compliments. Or giving them.
-- Finding loose change.
-- Taking silly pictures.
-- Stuffed animals.
-- Wearing something nice.
-- Driving around with no place to go.
-- Walking around with no place to go.
-- Buying candy at a candy store.
-- Winning a prize. Especially from one of those rigged boardwalk games.
-- Sitting around with friends doing nothing but being silent together.
-- Board games.
-- Teddy Grahams. And Goldfish crackers.
-- Cherry Coke. And Stewart's Orange 'n' Cream soda.
-- Chapstick.
-- Sitting in the middle of cul de sacs.
-- Dancing in the street.
-- Barnes & Noble. And the Book Bin.

That's all I have at the moment. I'm sure I'll think of more. I just don't have time right now. Later I will.

It's later. I thought of more. Haha.

-- Trampolines.
-- Sea glass and sea shells.
-- Stargazing.
-- Picnics.
-- Flowers in bloom. Especially dewy ones.
-- Surprise visits.
-- Cheering someone up.
-- Mix tapes. Well, mix CD's.
-- Hearing a song you like play on the radio.
-- Jumping on beds.
-- Travel sized anything.
-- Secret hidey-holes, niches, gardens.
-- Drinking something with a straw. And using the straw to blow bubbles in whatever you're drinking. Haha.
-- Cheap boardwalk prizes.
-- Skeeball.
-- Stupid dances.

So this is actually pretty funny.

Today I felt overwhelmingly in touch with reality. Meaning, I was stuck in a stupidly pessimistic mood all day.

Seriously though, all I kept thinking today was, "Wow. Life sucks." And I didn't just mean my life, and I didn't just mean the way things are now. I mean The Way Things Are (Babe, right) in general. Being an adult holds absolutely no appeal to me today. Just being in general doesn't hold much appeal to me today. (No, I'm not suicidal, I swear. Just a little grouchy.) Anyway, I still blame registration.

In 7 hours, I have a class that I feel is a complete waste of my time. Immediately afterwards, I have an appointment with the convener of the Contemporary Arts contract major, which I'm a little nervous about. I was warned that unless I have a very legitimate reason to want to switch from Communications to Contemporary Arts, and none of the other Comm Arts concentrations will give me what I want, and I have a clear, distinct plan for what courses I want to take and what kind of focus I want, I'm not going to be allowed to switch. In which case I'd have to settle for switching to the Writing concentration in Comm Arts. There are fewer courses that I don't want to take in Writing than there are in Media/Cinema Studies. Except it'll stink if I have to do that, still, because then I'll lose the few Media/Cinema Studies courses I want, I still won't be able to take "Children's and Adolescent Literature" or "Photojournalism," and it'll just be lame. Not that it possibly won't be lame either way. But anyway. After that, at 2, I have Idea Development. Then I have to work on and upload my pictures for Digital Photography (self-portraits, all of which I hate) and then work 7-9:30. I have a midterm Wednesday that I need to cram for, too.

All in all, I can't shake the feeling that this all could just be a waste of time and money. I don't know what I want to do. I can't go to the Contemporary Arts convener and tell him that I want these specific classes because they'll help me in the field of work that I wish to enter, because I don't know what damn field that is. Writing for a newspaper? Criticizing for a magazine? Screenwriting? Photographer? Starving author? Museum curator? Librarian? Okay, maybe not a librarian. But really. I may end up doing something where I don't even need a damn degree. I haven't the slightest idea to what I should devote the rest of my life.

And then I thought about how scary that is, that uncertainty. And then I thought about how scary being an adult is, in general. Having a job/career. Having bills to pay, rent/mortgage to pay. Finding a place to live to begin with. Taking a leap of faith and getting married. Heck, forget marriage - finding someone you love enough to marry is huge - there are so many people out there, and the way we're becoming more and more conditioned to isolate ourselves, connecting with people isn't exactly easy. And then once you do get married, having kids and being fully responsible for them as well as yourself, and raising them. Being a good parent. It's all ridiculously, ludicrously frightening. Laughably, really. And why? Why do we toil through all that? It's painful as hell. So why. Why. What's the point.

I never really get like this. I guess I'm feeling morbid today.

I was talking to my suitemate the other day about how, in The View From Saturday, E. L. Konigsberg's various characters basically say that these are the 3 main reasons for the decline of Western civilization: 1) The kids of this generation know how to nit-pick, but not how to write a B&B letter. 2) The ballpoint pen - it's cheap, quick, and completely without character. 3) People don't take time to take tea at four o'clock. At that last one, Kay starts talking about how much more relaxed people are in other countries - the way the some cultures stop all work in the middle of the day for siestas, the way the English always have tea at four, etc. It really made me think of how we're so conditioned, in the United States, to move fast. We rush around, schedule ourselves so tightly that we haven't got any time for ourselves, let alone for a nap or tea every day at the same time. We always have a goal - there's always something better that we're trying to achieve, the grass is always greener - this is impressed upon us deeply from the time we are children. The society in which we live stipulates that we must work hard and push ourselves to the breaking point when we are in high school, in order to get into a "good" college. Once we get there, it's not just fun and games - we have to keep up our academic and athletic and artistic performances so we can get into graduate school; we have to be very "involved" so we can get placed in good internships. And we need to have good connections - in an increasingly competitive job market (since there are more and more people qualified for professional jobs with the increase in college attendance), it's all about who you know, right? The internships and good grades are supposed to help us get good jobs. Once we have said jobs, we are constantly trying to improve our status at work. Get a raise or a promotion. Make more money. All that jazz. You end up barely having enough time to breathe. A career is not your life, it's how you make a living so you can have a life. Except these days, it turns into your life.

One of the only things I liked about the movie The Last Kiss was something Rachel Bilson said, which is strange because I hated her character most of all:

Kim: Having a crisis are we?
Michael: Do I look like I'm having a crisis?
Kim: Everyone I know is having a crisis. I know you're not supposed to get them until midlife but I think something's happening to our metabolism
Michael: Our metabolism?
Kim: [nods] Yeah, I mean the world is moving so fast now, we are all chasing something so fast that we start freaking out long before our parents did. Feel my heart.
[puts his hand in her chest]
Kim: Feel how fast it is?
Michael:...that's a fast heart.
Kim: ‘Cause we don't ever stop to breathe anymore...
[takes his hand off her chest]
Kim: You gotta remember to breathe or you'll die.

I can't imagine life post-college. I really can't imagine being done with school. Okay, so if I go to grad school, then it'll still be a while. But I can't picture what my life will be like when I'm done with school. I think some people become teachers just because they don't want to have to know what their lives would be like outside of school. Ugh. I don't want to teach. In theory it sounds great - helping people learn, enlightening them, being a part of their lives for a while - in practice, not so much. Unless it's either a private school or a good college or university or something. Even then, not so great these days.

Bleh. I better snap out of this soon. I really have to get my act together and start focusing on my classes more. I need motivation again. I keep losing it. Bleh.


"We don't have much room...
We all need a little more room to live."


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Listening to: Something Corporate - Konstantine

"I Will Show You Love"

Just some pretty lyrics.

I will show you love
Like you’ve never loved before.
I will go the distance
And back for more
If you just say the word.

You will come alive again
And call the trying times your friend.
The pain that you have suffered through
Will never get the best of you.
You will hope in something real
That won’t depend on how you feel.
When you call my name,
Then I will answer, answer.

I am on your side,
Though the wind and waves
Beat against your faith.
You were on my mind
When the world was made.
Trust in me my child,
Trust in me my child.

Walk out on the water
Where you have no control -
So scared to death of failure
You sacrifice your soul.
Please let that go.

You have climbed an uphill road;
You have worn a heavy load.
You have cried through endless nights
And nearly given up the fight,
Watched your dreams like falling stars.
The heartaches made you who you are.
Now looking back you see
That I have always been there.

Where you gonna hide?
Where you gonna hide from Me?
Where you gonna go?
Where you gonna go that I can’t see?

I have heard you cry,
And it breaks my heart
For I love you so.
I would never lie.
This is not the end.
There is still a hope.

I am on your side,
Though the wind and waves
Beat against your faith.
You were on my mind
When the world was made.
Trust in me my child,
Trust in me my child.

Kendall Payne

"Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around."
- Leo Buscaglia

I had something to say about this, but I don't recall what it was.

I'll have to get back to it later. Too busy now.


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Listening to: Bruce Springsteen - Livin' In The Future

I found a poem.

I can't get the spacing to look properly for all of it, so pretend.

Well here we go again

Forward, backwards, stuck in neutral

Feelings, indifference, apathy

Is a heartless beast

Of burden weighing heavily

Are possibilities, promises

To keep and be broken

Dreams of the future

Forays into idealism, hopefully

Bringing opportunity, chance

To begin to live life,

To stop merely existing,

To find passion

Balance

Walking across the beam of in between

Unsure, indecisive, reaching, jumping

F

A

L

L

I

N

G

Head first into God knows what

Have I gotten myself into now

Nothing is the same

Interest is dead

Mutated into careless, undriven work

Passion has fled

Jumped into the winds of days gone by

And where does that leave me?

Wishing myself far far away

Wishing the next ten years

Were a thing of the past, a memory

Preciously lived and learned and productive

But done, over, moved on to days of black and white and

C | D | L

L | I | I

E | V | N

A | I | E

R | D | S

| E |

| D |

(that we all know don’t exist)

No reading in between,

No fog hanging in my mind,

Clouding my vision

My view of who I am

what I want

where I want to be

what I need to do

W h y a m I h e r e ?

And where do I go from here?

Things can only go up,

P

But what goes U

Must come

D

O

W

N

So here I am again.

Stuck in neutral.

It's from about a year ago. I was in sorry shape then. I'm fine now, but I can feel myself getting more and more frustrated, restless, and weary again. I blame spring course registration and summer internship applications...or rather, the ideas of them and their impeding deadlines. I hate having to choose courses to pursue a degree that might not even help me get where I want to be, anyway; I hate being pressured to choose a career - the whole idea of a single career isn't very appealing to me to begin with; I hate the idea of applying for internships and graduate school - it's like applying for college, having to prove myself all over again; and I hate the idea of spending the rest of my life being judged and critiqued about everything, being forced to submit my work to other people who are "better" than me so they can tell me if it's good enough. Screw this whole being an adult thing. Just let me do what makes me happy as I discover what it really is. That might be a selfish, useless, complete waste of time for some people, but my desire to help others and make them happy and share and enlighten is far too great for me to be in danger of Hedonistically throwing my life away on myself. And if that's what I end up doing, then I'm the only one responsible, I'm the only one who has to live with that, so whatever.

Haha. Watch. 10 years from now I'll have a graduate degree, a cushy hypocritical job that I love (writing for some kind of periodical owned by a mainstream media conglomerate), stable relationships and finances, a house or apartment (complete with mortage!) and a whole life-plan. Either that or I'll have a stupid number of useless degrees, be stuck with an obnoxious job that I hate and could possibly lose at any moment anyway, and I'll be shiftlessly roaming around the country by myself, writing my "great American novel" (which I'll constantly be changing the topic and direction of, and it'll never get finished. Ever.) with barely enough money to get myself drunk with. Hahahahaha. Oh man. Just imagine. I'm going to be crashing on everyone else's couches...you've been warned...so just let me wallow there for a while and then pull a Boy Meets World and make me leave the couch and soggy Cocoa Puffs, grab a newspaper, and go job-hunting in my bathrobe when it's dark out. If I try telling you I'm going to have my own television show as the "Good Lookin' Girl" or something, laugh and kick me out. Thanks, in advance. You're real pals.


----------------
Listening to: Paul Simon - Once Upon A Time There Was An Ocean

So, I found a bit of a conversation I had with a friend a while back, and he said something along the lines of:

"The only people I have emotional ties to are the people who never make me regret that I have emotional ties to them."

Too bad it really doesn't work that way for most people.

Too bad you can only choose to a certain extent who it is you care about.

Really, it's too bad.


----------------
Listening to: Goo Goo Dolls - Without You Here

The problem with escapist stories:

They make us long and strive and hope for something that doesn't exist - an unreachable idealism that we'll never achieve. Yet, we hope nonetheless.

One thing I did actually learn in Media Literacy is this concept called the "magic window." It basically says that children believe that what they see in the media is the real, simple, whole truth - an accurate representation of the real world. Then, as they grow and mature, they learn to distinguish between reality and fantasy. Except, research has shown that in some, this ability doesn't properly develop, and there are people who reach adulthood and are still unable to discern the difference.

As pathetic as that sounds, is it really that ridiculous? It's like the Facebook group says: "Disney Gave Me Unrealistic Expectations About Love." Movies, television, books - they tell us about all these Happily Ever Afters, these perfect situations that almost never happen in real life. As Diane Keaton said in Something's Gotta Give, people need romance, and if people like her don't write it, where else are they going to get it - real life?

Yet even when we know the difference between reality and fantasy, that doesn't stop us from Dusty Springfield-style "wishin' and hopin'" that it'll really happen to us. That our Philip will ride in on a white horse for us, that our Prince Eric will kiss us, that our Beast will turn back into a prince, that our Aladdin will become a prince. Or that our Mr. Darcys will reform themselves, or our McDreamy will choose us over his Catherine Deneuve of a wife, or our Will Huntings will let us in and just let us love them. Sometimes it's not even about the romantic love - who wouldn't want to have friends like Rachel, Monica, Phoebe, Joey, Chandler, and Ross? Who doesn't want to live in a town like Stars Hollow, and who wouldn't want to go to school with Cory, Shawn, and Topanga? We know that the real world doesn't work like that, and that there is almost no chance of any of that happening. But we want it just the same.

Really, it's sad how little romance there is in real life any more. Either that, or we just don't appreciate it. There's so much romance in the little things - writing letters or notes to people, having a special dinner with loved ones, sending someone flowers or a package, showing up at a friend's for a surprise visit - any time you share something beautiful with people you love - that's romance. It's not always the big, showy gestures - though those are certainly wonderful - there's magic in the little things, too, and we can't forget that - cause really, who doesn't need a little magic or romance in their life?


----------------
Listening to: Mandy Moore - Gardenia

"Forgiveness is an act of the will, and the will can function regardless of the temperature of the heart."

Okay. So everything we learn as we grow up tells us the same thing, pretty much: forgiveness is good. Forgive everyone. No matter how you look at it, forgiveness is the right thing to do - it makes you the bigger person, always. Okay. I think this is garbage.

If we don't have the will to forgive someone for something they've done against us, should we forgive them anyway? Or rather, try to forgive them anyway? Does being a good person mean we have make ourselves forgive everyone, whether we want to or not? I guess in theory, it does. In theory, I think we are supposed forgive everyone. In practice...not so much.

What good comes of forgiving someone we don't want to forgive, just because it's the right thing to do? What does that do for us, or for them, for that matter? Just because we say the words, doesn't mean we feel it - it doesn't mean we act like we mean it. Who does that help? Let's say I forgive someone for wronging me, for hurting me, but I don't want to - I'm still angry and hurt. Won't that anger come through in my behavior, still, even if I am the most patient person in the world (which I most certainly am not)? And aren't I lying to both this other person and to myself?

Okay, so what if I want to forgive someone, want to be able to forgive them, but I can't? I can't let go of what's in the past yet - I'm too close to it. Let's say they want to be forgiven, and I tell them I forgive them - will, in trying to act as though I really have forgiven them, I slowly come to feel it myself?

The flip side is finding yourself feeling forgiving towards a person you don't want to forgive. Someone who causes major pain or upset in your life that you don't want to let off the hook. What do you do if you find yourself forgiving them anyway? Should you resist, or just let it be?

Then, love has to be factored in. At what point does the actions of someone you love become unforgivable? How far does forgiveness go if the love is real? Your spouse cheats on you but swears he or she won't again, and wants to stay with you. Is that forgivable?

"You know, I don't think there's anything truly unforgivable. Not where there's love."
- Sylvia, The Jane Austen Book Club
(Yes, I am aware how much I've quoted that, recently.)

I hate these questions. I really do. I've found myself in every single one of these situations, and I can never decide what to do. Generally I go by, "Forgive, don't forget." But sometimes, I think, what I wouldn't give to just be able to forgive, forget, and move on...to just let go.


"We must develop and maintain the capacity to forgive. He who is devoid of the power to forgive is devoid of the power to love. There is some good in the worst of us and some evil in the best of us."
- Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.


----------------
Listening to: Goo Goo Dolls - Can't Let It Go

"The hardest thing to learn in life is which bridge to cross and which to burn."

"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."
- Reinhold Niebuhr


The wisdom's definitely the tricky part. There is so much proverbial advice given about this. We are told to learn to accept things we can't change, to always fight for what we want or believe in, to pick our battles wisely. The problem is, which advice to we take and when?

With people, it's even more difficult. When do you give up on a person? What do you accept and what do you refuse to tolerate? And why is it that we accept certain flaws in some people and not in others? Why do we more readily accept fault in our friends but not in strangers? This natural inclination to forgive or excuse our friends and not others makes us so closed-minded.

"We cannot teach people anything; we can only help them discover it within themselves." - Galileo Galilei

The hardest of these questions, I think, is: Is love always enough - Is love enough of a reason to stay with someone who hurts you, or someone with a fault that you despise? Do you stay and fight to make it work, excusing the flaws and the pain the person causes you, or do you walk away because even though you love the person, you deserve better? And if you walk away, what if you never find better? Should you have stayed? And is walking away equivalent to giving up?

I guess it depends on the situation, but still. If ever there existed a gray area where there are no clearly defined answers, it's here.


"The time to give up on people is never."
- Tracy, The Philadelphia Story

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Listening to: Augustana - Hotel Roosevelt

"It's the sense of touch...

...In any real city, you walk, you know? You brush past people, people bump into you. In L.A., nobody touches you. We're always behind this metal and glass. I think we miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other, just so we can feel something."
- Graham, Crash


It's unnecessary though, isn't it? We shouldn't need to crash into each other just to feel something. Like I said before, we are taught to isolate ourselves, but when we do, we're really fighting against our inherent nature. Deep down, we know that we were not designed to exist completely independent of all others, but still, we fight it, and fight it heartily. Once in a while, though, in moments of self-revelation, we can admit to ourselves that it is a lonely business, being alone, and in these lapses between battles, we hunger for that touch - not even for that silent companionship of sympathy or empathy, but just for that tangible feeling. Sometimes we really do just need that physical reminder that we are not alone.

And it gets us in trouble. We mistake that need to be alone no longer for real, true attraction to another. We confuse needing to be with anyone, with, needing to be with a certain someone. We mistake needing that touch with needing love, when that's really not the case at all - we know and feel others' love; we just need that palpable reminder that it exists. Sometimes we do need that disembodied feeling to present itself in a corporeal sensation, but, as practiced deceivers of ourselves, that love needn't really exist in the touch - we can imagine and conjure it well enough. The warmth, the substantialness and acutality of the contact is enough.

We are all aware of this at some point or another, whether we know it or not. We all feel that desire to just reach out and hold someone, or to rest our head on their shoulder. However it presents itself, whether it be in poking or tickling, hitting or sparring, or even throwing someone over your shoulder or sitting on top of them - I think that there are times when this isn't a manifestation of how you feel about the person. It's not an outlet for secreted, pent-up emotion, but a demonstration of a simple, universal need for human contact, for a physical connection - even if it's only for a moment.


"Times came when you needed someone's arms around you. Mostly Jocelyn liked being single, but sometimes she thought about that."
- Karen Joy Fowler, The Jane Austen Book Club

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Listening to: Bruce Springsteen - Human Touch

Creepiness vs. Human Nature

Alright, so I get really annoyed by the fact that often, when people are just being nice, they're perceived as being creepy. Except I'm a total hypocrite because there is a guy who keeps stopping by my place of employment who is, most likely, just being friendly, but he creeps the heck out of me. Though, in my defense, he is rather stalker-ish. Like, stopping by at other times and asking people when I'm going to be working. And he keeps asking about UAA meetings so I think he might have an Asian fetish. Like I said...wicked creepy. But I think I'd rather be hypocritical and suspicious than be open-minded and optimistic and get assaulted at 11:30 at night in a building empty minus one other person, who might not even hear me scream. Yeah.

It's so odd, though, how what we construe as "creepy" or "awkward" or "weird" is often not that unusual or creepy at all. I mean, when it's some stranger you don't know from Adam...well, then I can understand the misunderstanding - how are you supposed to know what he's really like, what the real intentions and personality are? But when it's someone you've met, or know through a friend...well, odds are, the person is just being friendly. Say you've just met a friend of your best friend that you've never met. Any relatively friendly person is going to try to get to know him - try to talk to the person, ask questions, and just get acquainted with him in general. How annoying is it when the unknown friend is completely unresponsive and doesn't even make an attempt to talk to you? It's not weird for you to try to talk to the person, but they act as if it is.

I was talking to someone online one night who I haven't known very long, and he was giving me "his take" on my sister and why she behaves the way she does. Out of curiosity, I jokingly asked for his "take" on me, and he asked why I wanted to know. I said I was just curious, and he informed me, he almost never tells people what he thinks of them, to them, because it's just kind of awkward. I said that I don't just randomly say to people, "Hey, this is what I think of you," but if they ask, then why shouldn't I just be honest? If they ask, they can handle whatever I'm going to say, and it's not like I'm going to point out all the horrible truths about them - besides, if they're talking to me to begin with, I probably don't have anything terrible to say. And if I do, I'm going to at least be tactful about it. Jeez.

My point is, though, even if we say we don't care what other people think of us, we care what the people we like think of us - the people who are important to us. Often times, it's hard to read them - hard to discern if they care about you. So wouldn't it be easier just to ask about it? I mean, sure, it may be awkward at the time, but it's not like thereafter it'll always be awkward. Odds are, both parties involved will forget about it almost right away. So why is it that we have such a hard time just being frank about what we think and how we feel when other people are involved? Silly.

Then there's the stuff that really kind of is creepy, but isn't meant in a creepy way. Facebook stalking is a perfect example. It's the kind of thing that everyone does, but no one talks about. Checking out someone's Facebook that you're interested in, whether as a friend or otherwise, a dozen times a day, to the point that you feel kind of weird, knowing so much about them, but really aren't very close with the person. Then when you do talk to them in person, it's like, "Um, I totally know this already...but I don't want to admit that I stalked your Facebook." You don't mean to be creepy, and you have no intention of using this information in a weird way, but if the person knew, they'd think you were crazy. Spring Awakening puts it best:

In the midst of this nothing, this mess of a life,
Still there's this wanting just to see you go by.
It's almost like lovin', sad as that is,
May not be cool, but it's so where I live.
It's like I'm your lover, or more like your ghost,
I spend the day wonderin' what you do, where you go.
I try and just kick it, but then what can I do?
We've all got our junk, and my junk is you...

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Listening to: Spring Awakening - My Junk

"Might be a quarter-life crisis, or just the stirring in my soul..."

So I was chatting with a friend the other day about college, post-college, and life in general, and it was kind of depressing. He's completely independent, working, going to college full time, and it's sad that he doesn't have much time to just be young still, any more.

It's so strange. I feel like I've grown a lot in the past year. Not even. In the past 6 months. At the same time, I feel so young still. Like now is my time to just have fun and not worry too much about the future. And I hate wondering if I don't do things for myself now (traveling, etc.) if I'll ever get the chance to later in life, and if I do, will it mean as much as it would now? I dunno. It's such an odd paradox - feeling so old, and so young at the same time. Those little contradictions fascinate me.

That old crew feels so far away - like it was so long ago, so much more than a few months. And I feel like I'm the one that left, moved forward - like they're still back there, in their same old routines and issues. That sounds supremely arrogant, and I know it's foolish and condescending to think for even a second that I've grown and changed and they haven't. It just seems like I've developed a way, over the years, of being ready to move forward before the majority is. I was ready to leave elementary, intermediate, and high schools before my last years at each. I left the elementary/intermediate group, and now I've left my high school/post-graduation group. The second group changed me so much, and helped me get past the first - they meant so much to me, and it wasn't so long ago that I couldn't imagine life without them. And now there are new people who are helping me get over those I thought I couldn't live without - new people who, mostly, have no idea how much they helped me this summer, how much they now mean to me. I haven't really told them, either. If there's anything good out of it all, it's that the good ones stick around - I've got a few friends that go back to elementary/intermediate, a few from high school, and a couple from just after, that I know will always be there in some form or another. And those, I know, are way too good to lose - really.

After I wrote that bit on love the other day, there was one person I wanted to read it - the first I thought of, and at first, the only one I wanted to send it to. I didn't. I can't. Not any more. It depressed me. I sent it to 3 others instead, and that in itself is quite a feat, for me. Haha. It's not quite the same, though...

One of his phrases always sticks out in my mind, from a letter he wrote me last fall trying to help me through my rough time. I finally finished my poem using it, that I wrote about 5 lines of months ago and never completed. It's eh.

“Jaded is death”
Of your soul, spirit, dreams
Float coolly away, severing all connections
Between beauty and everything else
Is secondary, meaningless
Petty fights, behaving like children
Grow old, but never really grow up
To realize your potential
Genius, talents, wonders
What we’ve become
Blind, self-absorbed, rusted
Cogs in a broken machine
Endlessly spinning on and on
The brink of tolerance you teeter
Off the edge into pools of frustration
Coursing through your body like water flows
Aggravated disappointment
To yourself most of all
You can do is fight
The complacency, dark and growing
Apathy, distorting your vision with disinterest
Spreads like a viral disease
Taints you, mind and soul
Shines out beneath the muck
Rinses away
Falls the cynicism, the bitterness
Tastes almost sweet
Is the sound of the rain relenting
Life returning
Now you see
Beauty
Worth
You.

It reminds me of him. I feel like I've actually regressed the past couple weeks. It sounds so cliche to say someone haunts your dreams, but in this case, it's true...a couple someones, actually. It's really not cool. Otherwise, I'm so more than satisfied with life right now...not in a complacent way, but in an accepting way. And yes, there is a difference.

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Listening to: John Mayer - Why Georgia

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Listening to: Rob Thomas - Ever the Same

"I wonder what will make you happy, I wonder what you'll do with it all..."

There was a letter pushed under Sylvia's door, picked up by Allegra and left on the dining room table. "I want to come home," the letter said.

"I made the most terrible mistake and you should never forgive me, but you should also know that I want to come home.

"I've always felt that making everyone happy was my job, and then like a failure if you or the kids couldn't produce that happiness for me. I didn't figure this out for myself. I'm seeing a counselor.

"So I was stupid enough to blame you for not being happier. Now I think, if I could come home again, I'd let you have your own moods, your lovely, loving alarms.

"Last week I knew I never wanted to be with a woman I couldn't bring to my child's hospital room. i had this dream while we were in those awful chairs. In my dream there was a forest. (Remember how we took the kids to the Snoqualmie National Park and Diego said, 'You said we were going to a forest. There's nothing here but trees'?) I couldn't find you. I got more and more panicked, and then I woke up and you were right across the room from me. It was such a relief I can't even say. You asked me how Pam was. I haven't seen Pam for two months. She wasn't the woman for me after all.

"I've been unjust, weak, resentful, and inconstant. But in my heart it's always been you."

Sylvia sat folding and unfolding the letter, trying to see how she felt about it. It made her happy. It made her angry. It made her that Daniel was no prize. He was coming home, because no one else turned out to want him.

She didn't show the letter to Allegra. She didn't even tell Jocelyn. Jocelyn would respond however Sylvia wished, but Sylvia didn't know yet what response that would be. It was too important a moment to ask Jocelyn to go through it unguided. Sylvia wanted things simple, but they refused to simplify. She carried the letter about, rereading and rereading, watching her feelings rearrange about it, sentence by sentence, like a kaleidoscope.

- Karen Joy Fowler, The Jane Austen Book Club


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Listening to: Mandy Moore - Latest Mistake