We Ourselves Flash and Yearn

The family is pro-Sandburg, Carl Sandburg for the kitten. Everyone cried yesterday. I walked home from the river down the wrong street, and the drunks all waved and catcalled. It must have been the shoes. Life, friends, is [not] boring.

I wish

I wish I wish I wish.

I have so much so much so much to be grateful for, but in bed I think of the lives of other nineteen year olds. How other nineteen year olds are partying at that moment, or sleeping to prepare for their Good Summer Jobs that Will Get Them Somewhere In Life (in the adult world), or studying, or worrying about real problems.

And then there is me.

I have a mini-part time job, and another mini-part time job that starts at the end of June. I want to volunteer desperately, but every place I volunteer to volunteer with wants me to be a full-time volunteer! Excuse me, but I need to eat too. I don't want to party all the time, and I somehow missed out on my chance for a Good Summer Job that Will Get Me Somewhere In Life, especially because I want to be a social worker and not a lawyer or something strange like that. I can't study because I don't have class because I can't afford it in the summer (too many loans), and ahhhhh! I'm worrying and I don't even have a brain tumor or an eviction notice. I'm going to die early because of all this unnecessary worrying!

Everyone reminisces about when they were young and carefree and how great their lives were. What am I doing wrong? Am I sleeping too much? My manager seems to think every teenager's problems stem from sleeping too much. He said he'll sleep when he's dead. Oh, world, I would love to always be awake, if only my life was as great as every middle=aged person's memories.

Of course, deep down, I think their memories are wrong.

Beautiful

I was riding my bike down the street, music was playing outside of a restaurant, and I thought, "I am going to write a blog post about this!" Of course, I have no idea what THIS is, and I feel kind of disgusting that I thought this, but more so I feel very sad that my memory has failed me once again. However, life is good because I have attractive pictures of my sisters on my computer.

Stuck in the Mud

I have been following the same pattern for years. I have always worked at Za's. I have always lived in Das Krankenhaus with my friends. I have spent every week of my life waiting for Alex, every Friday with him, and every Saturday saying goodbye to him. I have always gone crazy on Thursday evenings. I have a vague distant memory of my time in college, but nothing before that exists. I have never lived at home with my family, though I have dreams of what it would have been like.

NOW, THE TRUTH:

I have worked at Za's for two months. I have lived in Das Krankenhaus for one month. I have spent two Fridays with Alex this summer, and therefore two Saturdays saying goodbye. I went crazy last Thursday.

I have been in college for two years and lived with my family for almost eighteen years. HOW CAN I FORGET SO EASILY?????

This Is The Problem

“O lovers! Be careful in those dangerous first days! Once you’ve brought breakfast in bed you’ll have to bring it forever, unless you want to be accused of lovelessness and betrayal.” -Milan Kundera

Therefore, I have never brought anyone breakfast in bed. I have, however, corrected essays and been overall a crazy nut during the first days.

Oh how I regret being a crazy nut.

Late at night I write

Sometimes a night is just a night. This will change your life. Everything changes your life, silly. Every night we move. Even standing still our hearts beat, the world rotates, we move. Every night.

When he wrapped me in his warm sweatshirt and his warm body and calmed my shaking body, I felt loved. I told him, months later, that I knew everything that night--that something remarkable had happened to me. He said, “Sometimes a night is just a night.” I could feel my cheeks flush. I walked out of my dorm, down through the diag, read a banner for a sorority, “This will change your life!” I wanted to scream. Oh, but that sorority can change your life. I see how it is.

I don’t want to scream now, a year later. All I know is that nights flow into a life, and our lives move. A night is just a night. This will change your life.

A little incoherent much?!

I just want y'all to know one fact about me.

I've grooved so much something something is gone.

And Clinker1 is so crazy David our neighbor.