the mouth of a hollow tree.

People are making dresses, custom made dresses for me and I feel guilty about my success as I look at the long face[s] of people I'm close to.

I need to focus on what I came here to do and not be concerned with affection and have everything be exactly as I want it to be.

The problem is, I am capable of becoming that person again. The kind of person that desperately wants tomato soup when she's sick but doesn't ask for help because she doesn't want to be a bother and doesn't want to be taken care of.

If I were to be truthful, I would say I feel like a fool chasing a fool.

Because I feel my feet moving backwards, stepping into that place, that hollow tree trunk that I use to always be.

wouldn't that be funny if it were true?

my bones have become so cold, and my skin so white that it seems like years ago that I would lay on the concrete during lunch hour tanning my legs. [I suppose because it was years ago]
The weather is making my future plans for me.

I am far too influenced by the color of the sky to have any regard for other perks of living anywhere else.

I can't begin to censor myself again. I'm not that person any more. I've made damn well sure not to be that person.

I can't remember the last time I cried out of happiness. Except this morning.
"you'll always be a little sliver...."
the little things.
the littlest things.

heres to making plans.

My body aches in the way that it knows its being productive.
Already this week has been going on forever. I feel more full of ideas and drive then I ever have before.
especially because I have this goal, a legitimate goal and it feels like it may actually happen.

I've been proud of myself lately.
[But proud? how could I be proud I haven't done anything yet]
Yes, proud.
For reasons I can't even actually pin point.
Going home, seeing what is there, made me like who I am. Here or there.
I've never been self-loathing. [well I suppose maybe in 8th or 9th grade we all go through a self-loathing phase]But right now, for some strange reason I like who I am the most.
I think perhaps its that I am hyper-aware of nearly every aspect of my life. Which could be dangerous? For now, its helpful.
I care more. About everything.
Its almost intimidating how much I care about the things I care about.

Also, I've been sleeping obscenely well.
I think sleep makes you a better person.

lets not count sheep. lets count something else.

"So let me get this straight.... You count memories instead of sheep?"
"That's right. What else can you do when you're old."

I looked at the sunken eyes of my best friend as I helped her out of the hospital bed. Wires and tubes were sticking out her and she looked older than I had ever seen her.

"Bust me out of this place, will ya kid?"

I couldn't of course, not without discharge papers and her medicine, but I wanted nothing more but to steal that wheelchair and run her down the hall, past the nurses station and safely to the elevator. I wanted to be able to make her laugh again because she seemed so weak and so sad.

I use to think growing old was an odd thing. But now I'm convinced its just the being old part. Its like, you have all of this wisdom and all of this knowledge but you can't really do anything because your body won't let you.
I've been trying not to think about all the things shes not going to see. I just try to focus on all the things she has seen.

the sky looks like Ethan Frome.

We walked to Safeway in the rain. The more that came flying out of my mouth the faster we walked. I realized how close we were. Especially because I can say anything to her and I know she won't think its dumb. Especially when she said I was one of her best friends.

This weekend. It happened three times. People who I feel so close to called me their best friends and I wanted to turn to them and squeeze them and say, "YOU MEAN IT?! YOU REALLY MEAN IT?!!!" [well I suppose I did that to one of them]

Then later I sat on a couch with a platonic boy friend who I care about more than words can describe and I looked around at the scene and audibly sighed:
"What is it love?"
"Its just that I was just thinking about my two lives"
"What do you mean?"
"The person I am when I'm here and the person I am when I'm there."
"I can only assume that they are both wonderful people."

bullshitty shit.

I'm going crazy even though I'm almost done with all the bullshit. I have a meeting with my advisor/director/professor tomorrow. He said he needed to discuss things with me and I know what. My grades are JUST BARELY keeping me in. I wish I cared more about the classes that aren't for the major but I don't. I feel like I've heard it all before and that the assignments are just busy-work bullshit I've already done.
I feels like a waste of time.
But what I'm getting here isn't a waste of time.
I'm becoming the person I want to be. I'm realizing things about myself now that I didn't even imagine I would think about for years.

I'm just stressed about the conversation that hasn't happened yet.

TIMES LIKE THIS:

Things are crazy.
I'm the leading lady in a musical.
I didn't think that was ever going to be a thing.
but,
WHAT?????

The past few years I've been saying, "This year is going to be my year" without really believing it.
But this year I believed it and I wanted it bad enough.

I BARELY believe it yet.