Friday, September 01, 2006

Let It Go

I really like the way desklamp light shines through pulp-free (the way God intended it to be) orange juice. No, no, hear me out on this...okay, I got nothin'. It's amazing what trails my mind will wander on; it's why you shouldn't be disappointed if you ask me what I'm thinking, and I don't tell you. YOU PROBABLY DON'T REALLY WANT TO KNOW, ANYWAY. And if you do? Please leave your telephone number in the comments, because I would very much like to marry you. Except I'm not quite sure I believe you exist (and with my current state of affairs being buried up to my neck in metaphysical texts, I'm not quite sure you want to engage me in that debate right now).

Also: I figured out what the heck I'm doing here. It all started when Jaela bounded into my room and told me I was her vitamin (seriously, that's definitely a way to charm me), and we got to talking. About boys and life and forgiveness and boys who need forgiveness or they will very shortly lose their lives (haha, kidding, but clever nonetheless, no?) and how we never, ever, ever expect anyone to like us, and when it happens it very much catches us off guard. And somewhere in there I realized that I have a lot of issues that I've developed in the last few years, and I need to solve them. When did I become the kind of person who hated herself? When did I lose the ability to jump into everything wholeheartedly, devilmaycareifIcrashanddieandithurtsohsomuch? And that's really just the beginning. There's a whole lot of stuff floating around the old noggin' that I'd never admit to the internet, or even mostly to myself, and Virginia is finally giving me the ability to get in there and slough it all out. It's also giving me rain that doesn't leave brown muddy sweatstains all over my car and the best philosophy professor the government's money on temporary loan could buy and a certain peace that I never have quite felt away from this coast. And the ocean - it has given me back the ocean, which I'm going to visit in a few days. One of the most achingly beautiful sounds is the gull's cry echoing over marshland. Go hear it sometime.

Go heal somewhere.


Blogger Baltazar said...


7:22 AM  
Blogger Mooney said...

I've always wondered what you're really thinking... Does that mean you want to marry me?

10:29 PM  
Blogger juxtaposer said...

It's very possible. But aren't you in love with some Boston girl who's infinitely cooler than I could ever be?

9:50 AM  
Blogger Mooney said...

Barely cooler, and that's over I guess.

1:18 PM  

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