letters
this is the soundtrack that calms me down. it's the one i need tonight. i really should be sleeping. i slept a lot today though... unintentionally. maybe i'm a closet narcoleptic. i'll be sitting at my desk trying to do work and just get so sleepy... just loll my head to the side and rest on my shoulder for a second or if i'm feeling particularly unwilling to fight it, just lay face down in my arms and drift away. i was about to fall out of my chair this evening so i got down on the floor to do some sit ups to wake myself up. well, i woke up thirty minutes later, did the sit ups, and got back to work. how is it possible for me to fall asleep in the time it takes to do a single sit up? i had the hardest time staying awake in class today, too. the last day of class. kind of sad, but in a happy kind of way. i mean, kind of happy... but in a sad kind of way. i'm conflicted about this time of year, can you tell?
and i'm worried because i think i might have fucked up... big time. there's this one application for transfer credits i never knew about. it was due two weeks ago. basically, i went to the trouble to get registered for two summer school classes and i have no idea if they will actually count for anything. so in the morning i get to go grovel in the registrar's office. after classes have ended. and if that doesn't work... try and back out of summer school? get the money back? it was over $500. i can't really afford to be making these mistakes. i know it's on me but really... maybe i'm just immature. i haven't stopped working since january, though. and i don't mean that in the "i haven't skipped class and laid off doing homework for a while" sense. i mean it in the "there hasn't been a day pass on this campus that i've not been working on shit" sense. nobody tells you how this is supposed to work. i managed to pick classes that were pre-approved. i managed to figure out which ones i needed to take for my major, for my divisionals, for my impending transfer. i managed to get the shit together enough to have it all set up this summer. but i didn't know about the form. nobody told me. like that's an excuse...
i was sitting in the corner of the coffee shop a couple nights ago talking online. a friend of mine sitting near me actually asked me why i was smiling so much. i guess it was noticeable. thank you... for that.
i'd kind of like summer to go on and get here. the notion of having limited time here means i don't want this next week to just fly on by all willy-nilly but it's not like i really feel like dealing with it either. not after this semester. i'll be in college a fairly long time anyway. still, it's strange how i can get so lonely surrounded by so many people i know. maybe they just aren't the right people. i'll see about that next semester. i get so sick of their shit. everyone contributes. summertime is for solitude. for me anyway... seeing as how i've burned most of my high school bridges. well... left them in disrepair. summertime is for reading as many books as i can. for playing guitar as loud as i want when nobody else is in the house and singing at the top of my lungs. for tanning at the beach and generally being boring. for riding my bicycle. i can't believe i'm looking forward to that so much. i've found comfort seats online. little trip computers to tell me how far i've ridden. i'll probably hate it. it's karma.
i get this miniature motorcycle-esque notion, though. i guess it's the two wheels. i can't even really explain it right now. maybe i'll just never get tired. keep on riding on into the next subdivision and all through there. a bunch of people from my middle school live out there. i wonder if they still do. i wonder if they'd recognize me anyway. why do i get so nostalgic? i want to take pictures of this room, just so i'll remember it later. just the way it is right now. all the posters, hanging things, scarf, lights, tickets, books, tv, the view out the window... i can still remember sitting in bed last year and seeing out my window into the johnson lounge where some kids on our hall had set up a tent and were camping out to study for finals. what happened to those times? i would go back in a second to last year... except for the whole roommate thing. i just like not having one. maybe a weekend when he was away, go spend that time. back in 2005... the last half of that year was interesting too. every now and then i'll think back and try and decide if there's anything i'd change about it. anything i'd do differently. i'm training myself to stop thinking those thoughts. it's slowly working.
i've tried to write this a couple times, there's just no good way to get it out. before i started writing tonight, i opened up this other blog i used a couple times and read the contents. i almost didn't. i started and it was so strange and unbelievable and just... physically painful that i had to stop. but i went back and read the whole thing. i'm pretty sure it's private... nothing anyone's ever seen or will find. just a couple letters written to one girl. things i could never tell her. a couple from late 2004 and one from early 2005. even now... i can't believe i'd write those words. i can't believe i'd have felt that way. it was back then, back in high school, when i actually felt emotional conviction about things, about people. it's almost foreign to me now, it happens so rarely. i'll find out, too, what i was thinking. i have to know. for years, i've saved conversations from interesting people. it's on my old computer at home. whatever sparked these letters. it's always the most shocking thing for me to go back and read conversations i had in high school with some of these people.
mostly, it hurts like hell.
i don't know if i was naive or if i am now or if i actually felt these things i thought i did. it's hard to imagine having the same conversations today but it's so damn familiar to read. i can still feel it, the giddiness inside. that was back when i was figuring out how wonderful it was to love and to be loved by the same person. whether or not it was real. i felt it. i felt it enough to write these letters and, beyond that, to say the things i did. i can't imagine there being a situation i'd show them to her. it's beyond ridiculous for right now. but tonight, like a torturous time capsule... i'm forced to relive myself. someday i'll read this and feel the same way.
who knows love, anyway?
and i'm worried because i think i might have fucked up... big time. there's this one application for transfer credits i never knew about. it was due two weeks ago. basically, i went to the trouble to get registered for two summer school classes and i have no idea if they will actually count for anything. so in the morning i get to go grovel in the registrar's office. after classes have ended. and if that doesn't work... try and back out of summer school? get the money back? it was over $500. i can't really afford to be making these mistakes. i know it's on me but really... maybe i'm just immature. i haven't stopped working since january, though. and i don't mean that in the "i haven't skipped class and laid off doing homework for a while" sense. i mean it in the "there hasn't been a day pass on this campus that i've not been working on shit" sense. nobody tells you how this is supposed to work. i managed to pick classes that were pre-approved. i managed to figure out which ones i needed to take for my major, for my divisionals, for my impending transfer. i managed to get the shit together enough to have it all set up this summer. but i didn't know about the form. nobody told me. like that's an excuse...
i was sitting in the corner of the coffee shop a couple nights ago talking online. a friend of mine sitting near me actually asked me why i was smiling so much. i guess it was noticeable. thank you... for that.
i'd kind of like summer to go on and get here. the notion of having limited time here means i don't want this next week to just fly on by all willy-nilly but it's not like i really feel like dealing with it either. not after this semester. i'll be in college a fairly long time anyway. still, it's strange how i can get so lonely surrounded by so many people i know. maybe they just aren't the right people. i'll see about that next semester. i get so sick of their shit. everyone contributes. summertime is for solitude. for me anyway... seeing as how i've burned most of my high school bridges. well... left them in disrepair. summertime is for reading as many books as i can. for playing guitar as loud as i want when nobody else is in the house and singing at the top of my lungs. for tanning at the beach and generally being boring. for riding my bicycle. i can't believe i'm looking forward to that so much. i've found comfort seats online. little trip computers to tell me how far i've ridden. i'll probably hate it. it's karma.
i get this miniature motorcycle-esque notion, though. i guess it's the two wheels. i can't even really explain it right now. maybe i'll just never get tired. keep on riding on into the next subdivision and all through there. a bunch of people from my middle school live out there. i wonder if they still do. i wonder if they'd recognize me anyway. why do i get so nostalgic? i want to take pictures of this room, just so i'll remember it later. just the way it is right now. all the posters, hanging things, scarf, lights, tickets, books, tv, the view out the window... i can still remember sitting in bed last year and seeing out my window into the johnson lounge where some kids on our hall had set up a tent and were camping out to study for finals. what happened to those times? i would go back in a second to last year... except for the whole roommate thing. i just like not having one. maybe a weekend when he was away, go spend that time. back in 2005... the last half of that year was interesting too. every now and then i'll think back and try and decide if there's anything i'd change about it. anything i'd do differently. i'm training myself to stop thinking those thoughts. it's slowly working.
i've tried to write this a couple times, there's just no good way to get it out. before i started writing tonight, i opened up this other blog i used a couple times and read the contents. i almost didn't. i started and it was so strange and unbelievable and just... physically painful that i had to stop. but i went back and read the whole thing. i'm pretty sure it's private... nothing anyone's ever seen or will find. just a couple letters written to one girl. things i could never tell her. a couple from late 2004 and one from early 2005. even now... i can't believe i'd write those words. i can't believe i'd have felt that way. it was back then, back in high school, when i actually felt emotional conviction about things, about people. it's almost foreign to me now, it happens so rarely. i'll find out, too, what i was thinking. i have to know. for years, i've saved conversations from interesting people. it's on my old computer at home. whatever sparked these letters. it's always the most shocking thing for me to go back and read conversations i had in high school with some of these people.
mostly, it hurts like hell.
i don't know if i was naive or if i am now or if i actually felt these things i thought i did. it's hard to imagine having the same conversations today but it's so damn familiar to read. i can still feel it, the giddiness inside. that was back when i was figuring out how wonderful it was to love and to be loved by the same person. whether or not it was real. i felt it. i felt it enough to write these letters and, beyond that, to say the things i did. i can't imagine there being a situation i'd show them to her. it's beyond ridiculous for right now. but tonight, like a torturous time capsule... i'm forced to relive myself. someday i'll read this and feel the same way.
who knows love, anyway?
posted by sunshine at 2:16 AM
1 Comments:
you're welcome...for that. i write letters i'll never send. poems i'll never read to anyone. thoughts i wouldn't share if you begged me. then i go back and read them and feel all of it all over again. like i'm back there. like i've just written it and it still feels so real. sometimes it feels good and other times i wonder why i torture myself like that. i wonder how i could believe in something so strongly that now seems so...minimal. i think its part of growing up. part of the process. and sometimes you just have to look back to see how far you've come.
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