Ten days

I will not let myself drive myself insane again.

…

Why do I always wind up leaping like this?

—

In the faces of young adults, twentysomethings, working professionals, graduates, I now see my peers and friends. I first see the grown men and women who once seemed to be in a division one cut above mine, but now, I also see those who I know well. Those I grew with.

It intrigues me, because this means that perhaps in another few years, I will look like that adult as well.

Perhaps.

It frightens me as well.

Star undefined

Today, I trekked down to the nation’s luuurvely capital for a one-day shadowing internship at an environmental advocacy group.

…this was interesting.

4:00 AM

Roll out of bed to sound of roommate’s alarm, which I have set across the room. Being desensitized to my own alarm clock, I wake up to hers. Am bleary-eyed.

But but but

But it would be so easy! And it’s not THAT bad! And– okay, that’s not fair to either of us.

I love the city, and I love crashing in a very bohemian apartment with three fellow artists, and having a fantastically cracked recording session followed by DDR and “Ratatouille”. I love getting to act like myself (because I’m off-campus!) and having every part of me accepted. I love people with open minds and open arms. I love getting on the wrong subway train and, upon realizing it, getting off in a flurry of laughter with a friend. (In time.) I love the quiet whispers, leaning on shoulders, smiling at everything, delight in every glance, knowing that I must leave but when I return, the happiness will.

I’ll return soon.

I really will.

Now three

It is time for me to shut it all out. It is time for me to not raise a facade but to construct a fortress. it is time to change, and shed this real self in favor of something more durable.

It is time to hide everything except that which is useful.

[my mother said so]

The child is gone; the dreamer must go; the third must reign.

And since there is no one who would coax this transition into a more gradual process, I will do this now.

—

dreams of rain in sheets, dreams of ice and wings.
so delicate, these things

Hanging by

Since I’m on the brink of academic collapse, disappointing myself and knowing I’m going to disappoint my parents, half-despairing and half-given up, surrounded by ‘friends’ who offer frank disapproval and little comfort, receiving empty words of reassurance from people who know me less, knowing that even if I work my ass off next semester it will mean nothing if I get below a 2.0 this semester, I decided to take a walk.

And wound up at my favorite tiny shop in the world.

I am not the sort of girl that does comfort shopping. As a matter of fact, I don’t much like shopping, period. But when confronted by a tiny whitewashed shop with a door that doesn’t close by itself and clean shelves full of the nature-y things I love so and– a window full of glass ornaments marked “30% off all ornaments” because the winter holidays are over?

…Yes.

More words of wisdom

from fanfiction. Yep. Deal with it.

“Right. Well, that’s still accurate, even with the benefit of hindsight. Daniel had some trouble finding an anchor in life. For a while, I think I kept him focused, and in return, he treated me like a queen. But eventually I realized that I was actually trying to shape him, and even if it might have been for the better, it was exhausting to me and ultimately unfair to him. And for his part, he realized that he couldn’t build everything around trying to please me.” She offered a self-conscious smile. “The age-old tale, isn’t it? Women trying to change men.”

“Well, sometimes we need changing,” he observed jokingly.

Her gaze turned pensive. “No,” she said. “A person can’t forcibly change another person, at least not without incurring some trauma along the way. The only way it works is when the person wants to change. Wanting to be better for someone is one of the nobler pursuits, but it has to be genuine. If you don’t sincerely like someone the way they are, it’s all built on quicksand.”

Quoted for truth.

Stupid-female pondering ahead; turn back now.

Drain of thought

There’s a flood in my mind, incoherent, desperate to be heard, unvoiced because I flinch from the exchange of glances signifying that I’ve marred the illusion of normalcy they would maintain, unvoiced because I cannot express discontent when others do not feel it, unvoiced because I would not weigh down the atmosphere around those I care about, those I guard from afar, those who I give for without receiving in return, slowly settling, then I pull a

[plug]

Dancer, pt. 2

Walking up-campus, wondering sardonically why the cold couldn’t just be worth it and snow–

and as if in response, tiny white flakes wafting down from the sky, not dancing, just falling–

Part of snow’s beauty is in its silence. Rain is a force making itself known to be reckoned with, announcing its presence to everyone, any open surface its percussion set.

Snow is the rain of the wind. The tiniest breeze sets it sideways, stinging into cheeks and necks, snapping eyes open and burrowing into sleeves.

(…Snow is pretty badass.)

Should have been a dancer

I need only to look outside at the snowflakes spinning dizzily and without abandon in the wind, typing this with one hand and a pinky finger because its four peers are holding an apple, to remember how much I love nature.

I look over again and the heavy, thick snowfall is gone with nary a trace on the ground to recall its passing. But I sometimes I wish I was that delicate, fragile but still lovely snowflake, short-lived but blissfully oblivious to its falling.

On the subject of weed

Oh, bloody hell. I’m unlocking the rant box.