and then it means something different.

I feel, sporty right now. It could be because of the sports bra I have on. too much information? possibly.

They always remind me of what I'm going to miss.

That all got me really thinking about reality. and my reality. I wonder sometimes if the glances that I take to mean as something particular mean nothing at all.
I wonder further of the lack of ground I have. One thing is said when in fact that is not the complete truth. is it even really truth to begin with?
little pockets of what will eventually come to be. they are sharper now.

I like the repetition. I like when things begin to mean something else. I have spent most of my time resisting falling into patterns. they are inevitable. completely.

I do repetition with my self now. I say the same sentence over and over in my head. and then it means something different. and then it means something different. and then it means something different. and then it means something different. and then it means something different. and then it means something different. and then it means something different.

What made you pick brown?

its weird that I miss Eve?
she was sometimes easier to be...

letters again.

[I did this awhile back. wrote letters to the people who significantly effect me. been thinking about this a lot. I have things to say but never have the opportunity to say them so, hear it goes.....]

one: I do not know everything, by any means. However, I do feel as though at some point you will look back on all of this and wish you had spent this part of your life differently. All I can see in you now is mockery and a different person. Its awful. It makes me far more sad then I let on.

two: I want you to be able to tell me things as frank as I can tell you things. After all this time sometimes I still feel like you are guarded. At the same time, I only feel like this sometimes. What will I do without you?

three: Its beyond wonderful to have you back in my life. Am I a jerk for saying that? I'm totally a jerk for saying that. But its true. The words that you choose everyday: beautiful.

four: You could do better. I see a lot of me in you. Circa sophomore year. But, you've been there for while. I'm worried how you'll feel when you grow up.

five: Its because you're peter pan. that's why I enjoy you. Regardless, I'm planning on being friends with you for awhile and I have a sneaking suspicion that you'll be there.

six: Enjoy yourself. Be happy on your own. Your co-dependence makes my skin crawl and my stomach churn. Goddammit. What the fuck happened?

seven: remember me? I'm here at your convenience. Its your choice though. I've decided. Since I'm second string to you, you've become second string to me.

eight: Its so strange. There are moments when I feel like it could be something more. But you're a sheep. I don't know how to depend on a sheep.

nine: I have nothing to say to you because you are the only person I can say everything to. You're the only person I like holding hands with.

ask me...again.

there is something impressive about a genuine moment. I do believe I've only had a few. some of them are for my pleasure only because its me, for me. some of them I am speaking someone else's words.
two of these moments have happened within a week of each other.

the first was in the car.
the second, in a chair.

the one in the car was rooted in the kind of magnetism you just can't make up. Eye contact mainly. Its weird looking someone in the eye and being able to feel exactly what they are feeling. its also rare. it reminds me of the Whingdingdilly I always wanted to have but couldn't find.

[I need to read The Whingdingdilly again. we should all read Whingdingdilly]

the one in the chair was real, genuine laughter that I found as someone else. something as genuine as that lives somewhere deep. for me, I'm convinced it lives in the knots in my jaw. My jaw, which inhibits me on the occasion from laughing like that, suddenly loosened when I was her. it was because I focused on the moment.

I forgot what that felt like.

I like what I do.

You roll the number and I’ll buy the lumber

someone must have hit the replay button.
but only if this replay button makes things all different and at the same time completely the same.
Maybe it was that I forgot, and then was reminded of it. It entertains be when people fight against what is innately there. It entertains me more when I am one of those people. Its just so comfortable. how is that fair? how are things allowed to be that comfortable?
they just are.
i seem to have a thing for honest fakers.
especially when all the music sounds the same. trust me. its a good thing. everything else is probably a substitute. though I disagree with perfection, and actively try to fight against it, [yesterday I made sure the my skirt was not ironed] it just...

Can one desire too much of a good thing?

"And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe,
And then from hour to hour, we rot and rot:
And thereby hangs a tale."

I'm starting with As You Like It. for my graduation my close old friend wrote me a letter, and gave me three classics. I've been an impostor in the theatre world. I read far less then I should. In the letter she told me that I remind her of Rosalind. I'm putting it to the test.

Things have caught my curiosity lately. things have surfaced. I stayed in bed all day. not really because I wanted to. Because i needed to. I physically could not bring myself to getting up. Yesterday reminded me what always seems to happen. I say I want one thing and then once its true, once its there I don't know what to do with it.

I move in less than ninety days.
okay.

thoughts today...patriotic? no.

the one thing that always lurks in the back of my mind no matter what:

"Wouldn't it be funny if that were true?"