| i don't know why i logged into this tonight. to see if it was still there, maybe. to see if i still felt the same way, if i was still the same girl, more likely. to do anything but study for finals, definitely. it feels kind of weird to be writing here again but i thought i'd give it a shot. call me crazy, but it's a hell of a lot more entertaining than analyzing anne tickner's gendering world politics essay. so i'll write i guess. with no one but miles to keep me company, making an honest effort to drown out the pounding base from the apartment beneath me. is it the cold weather? maybe? because it's like i've just been running and running and almost once a week i remind myself to stop and breathe for two minutes before i get back on, never really getting ahead. if it was summer i wouldn't have to, i would breathe and listen and melt into everything around me. i had this amazing daydream the other day to escape the bleak cold rainy view from torgersen bridge that instead, i was in a cottage at the beach. sure, it could still be raining. i would probably still be wearing my favorite worn-in jeans, and i most likely would still be drinking chai tea. maybe i couldn't even see the water from the screened porch i was sitting on, but i'd know it was there. i'd feel it. i'd be sitting not at a table studying, but on a porch; i'd be hearing the rain and smelling the salt on everything and taking polaroids of anything that inspired me-- bikers caught in the rain, trying to get home with a bag of fresh produce; vacationers lugging chairscoolersbucketsumbrellastowelskids back from the beach; or, simply the patterns it all made in the sandy areas. i may pick up my guitar and wonder how the rain carried my voice... but when it really started raining, i mean real hard, i'd leave everything where is was and walk calmly out to the beach, to the ocean, to the clouds and take everything in. i'd sit and let the waves come in, hear my heavy thoughts, catch them and sweep them off to sea like they were never there at all. and when the rain had soaked my hair completely, when i felt new again, i'd walk, floating, back to my cottage, be naked for a while, and make some more tea. just the thought of such a day calms me, makes me check on myself and make sure i still have a grip on the things i love in life. you know, i read today in the paper at work a story about this man who has gone to the same place to get his christmas tree for years, and how the trees are all perfectly groomed, cut, bushy and christmas-y scotch pines. he knows they always are and always will be, every christmas. when he compares these to the less-than-traditional trees he and his dad would cut down on their farm every year as a child, even using apple trees at times for a christmas tree, he realizes these picture-perfect trees really just make him sad. he ends with a quote, saying "why do we seem to need everything in our lives to be perfect when it's the imperfect things that we truly love so much". if you're reading this, take that at least with you. don't strive for perfection- strive to love and be loved. and hold on tight. |
