"all changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another." Anatole France

It's Tuesday but feels like a Wednesday. When it's Wednesday, I think from the mindset of a Thursday. And when it's Thursday, well by then it's Friday anyway. Who needs a calendar when your mind is already racing to the next day and the next and the next? Why can't I just sit and be still? I just want to sit and be Very still. But No, because then ( Read more... )

I don't really have a personal connection with this poem (as in this is no reflection of my current state of being), but I think it's really great nonetheless. I can feel it..
- - - Chance Meeting ( Read more... )

17th year of schooling. There's a reason they stop couting at "12" and let you feel like you are starting all over by referring to yourself as a freshman in undergrad. Seventeenth. Shit.

Keeping Things Whole
by Mark Strand

In a field
I am the absence
of field.
This is
always the case.
Wherever I am
I am what is missing.

When I walk
I part the air
and always
the air moves in
to fill the spaces
where my body's been.

We all have reasons
for moving.
I move
to keep things whole.

I am tired and my mind is wandering. I need to stay focused and study, but I am tired and my mind is wandering and this caffeine isn't kicking in fast enough, and I can never spell caffeine correctly on the first try, and my mind is wandering. Or maybe it is kicking in because I am a bit jittery, but that could also be nervousness.

I keep vivid, disconnected memories. Like the time i was waiting with my mom in our car in the Target parking lot for my brother to get off work after ten o clock. Or driving home from Fatima's house really late, and Seether's "Driven Under" came on the radio as the breeze was gushing in from the windows and the night felt really quiet. Do you know ( Read more... )

I am too in love with my dreams, I don't even want to be awake. I think I exist for the sole purpose of uttering “Bless You” when someone sneezes (I usually sound like an automated machine) and attempting to keep doors open for the person scurrying behind me (I fail with the heavy ones). Otherwise, I am usually caught up in space, detached from the ( Read more... )

I'm tired of all the days feeling like the day before.

Sometimes we grow into our reasons.