They say the darkest part of the night comes before dawn... or something. I'm too lazy to look it up. But anyway, the point is, sometimes things get darker right before they get light, and messier and worse and harder right before they get better.

It's hard to disentangle the ball of bad feelings I had rolling around my chest this semester. I don't ( Read more... )

Sometimes college feels like we're creating our own dead ends.

That's all I have to say, but to leave an entry at one sentence might look like I'm trying to make some bold, important statement. So here are three sentences.

There's something to be said for intense sadness.

There must be something to be said for intense sadness ( Read more... )

I'm an escape artist. I escaped to Africa, and on weekends I escape to Boulder, to Denver, to my sister's Denver loft, to my parents' house, anywhere but there. And when I can't escape from Fort Collins, I escape in Fort Collins. I escape through tilted glasses and berry concoctions until my world is blurry enough that things don't matter. It doesn ( Read more... )

It's official!

I'm going.

I am (99%) taking this semester off to volunteer in Africa. I have all of the program information, my parents' approval and Noah's encouragement; I have a doctor's slip for the proper vaccinations; I have a restless heart and a deep curiosity for what lies beyond my often drunk, increasingly sad, ever materialistic bubble ( Read more... )

At what point in a person's life is it okay to take a life-altering route, a risk that may lead to a free fall and may also lead to something beautiful? It's a quagmire, really, because when you're content with the way things are you are unlikely to take such a risk. There's too much to lose. But when you're down and out, desperate for change and ( Read more... )

I feel like I'm dying. Like the last wisps of my existence are disappearing into the atmosphere. They leave little trace. Those who knew and loved me once are too far away to bear testament to my being, and my acquaintances, though numerous, cannot have much more to say than "She was good on paper."

Or maybe not.

I drew a little diagram in my journal yesterday, a quick cartoon version of myself, and shaded in the percentage of myself that was given to Abbie and the percentage of myself that was given to Andrew (figuratively speaking, obviously) and then I redrew myself with what was left. One shred, right down the middle, with only part of a mouth, neither ( Read more... )

I reached another conclusion about my life tonight ( Read more... )