crystal_soda's Xanga

I feel reconnected

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 11:06:09 GMT

and I'm glad to be alive.

I'm glad you came into my life again, for a bit, and struck me where it mattered. I feel like I was a bit lost first semester, with the excuse that because I was a first-year, I could explore. I can explore, but that doesn't mean I have to drop everything I was either. Talking with you and other friends and reading old notes made me realize how much I've lost touch with what defined me: a free spirit, someone who held great love for and was aware of the world around her. I've forgotten certain things, certain bird calls and names of trees; they've escaped because I haven't had to use them, because I haven't hiked because I thought I didn't have time. I don't know the current legislation because I've been ignoring my e-mail up-dates for more time for other things.

I, who always believed in the little actions that coalesce into great things, had lost hope. Thank you so much for rooting me back to where I want to be. I think I finally have a right to call you my Good Friend now, and I hope this inspiration doesn't leave me. Thinking of you, of the questions you ask, of knowing that you care just as I care, and that once we cared about each other in more ways than one, gives me comfort, but I realize I can't depend on this safety and must find my own strength, too. I will.

I don't feel a need to tell you what I feel in so many words anymore, but I still felt a need to express this gratitude. Because with you, I feel welcomed. Thank you.

to three

Sun, 05 Aug 2007 19:24:29 GMT

one

i think it's different now. i think anticipation sort of snuffled the reality of things - that really, we are inconvenient for each other, that really, you don't care. but still, i feel safe while lost with you and somehow at peace. i feel the world is pleasant when you laugh in your way that is completely you. i enjoy things more in your presence; i am enthusiastic and silly at times to an extreme. but i think this energy too makes me tired. we are too polite with each other. i wish you would explode at me, that you would be fickle, so i could have memories of your less than tactful times. too many people like you, and you're always distancing yourself improperly; i don't like that. and you are so civil it seems cold sometimes, but still it is admirable, the way you are unafraid, the way you are so darn logical, the way you ask questions with those eyes, the way you have me feel that my prejudices somehow influence yours without at all ceding your own opinions.

i want to tell you my story, and how i think you have the most beautiful shoulders, but i think it's too late now and i'm just too stubborn and you're just too practical.

two

i know you read this. i think you're probably going to check back and read on the possibility that i wrote, that i extended some fiber of my being. am i being incredibly arrogant? probably. i know how you feel. i know also that you don't know that i know how you feel, that you feel like you have to prove something, or have the courage to show me something. you don't. i know and i appreciate it in a way, but please don't dwell. it hurts you more than it hurts me, and i do want you to be happy and find what you are looking for - which probably doesn't live in me. chin up, confidence.

thank you for the unnecessary hand-delivered mail, and for the silliness, and for your time.

three

i love you because i don't know you, and it is beautiful.

"if you will it, it is no dream"

Sun, 22 Jul 2007 23:26:33 GMT

-- motto, Branford College

I love how my residential college pride is settling in.

I am looking forward so much to college, to begin again with so many dreams. I am afraid, too, of being overwhelmed, of being only ordinary, lost amongst the brightness. I feel like there is so much I must catch up on.

Six days; I hope we make Jersey proud.

Monday, May 28, 2007

Mon, 28 May 2007 16:22:44 GMT

The Orange

By Wendy Cope

At lunchtime I bought a huge orange

The size of it made us all laugh.

I peeled it and shared it with Robert and Dave—

They got quarters and I had a half.

And that orange it made me so happy,

As ordinary things often do

Just lately. The shopping. A walk in the park

This is peace and contentment. It's new.

The rest of the day was quite easy.

I did all my jobs on my list

And enjoyed them and had some time over.

I love you. I'm glad I exist.

Friday, April 06, 2007

Fri, 06 Apr 2007 12:28:44 GMT

Potential

Tue, 20 Mar 2007 23:45:02 GMT

When one has disappointed someone one respects, one has lost something of one’s own,

A sense of belonging.

When one doesn’t utter one’s feelings, one has lost expression.

I lose, I lose.

Shy, I say little,

Believing in my soul that

French, that language

Of infinitely-layered croissants, of birds stepping lightly in snow,

Of a country where everything arrives by passion –

Is too beautiful for me.

And my mouth can not wrap around the words which lay light on my tongue,

Which linger unspoken, words that, like impatient people, hurry off before they are ever voiced, leaving me to stutter.

Perhaps these are my excuses.

I, who plant sentences, who sow paragraphs from the pollen of ideas,

Am too negligent of my offspring.

The flowers grow too tall in my garden of steel.

Too close to the sun,

they melt.

At these times I do not say anything.

I watch in silence.

It is beautiful, the destruction of things.

It is sad, thinking of what they could have been.

It is sad how things are lost, how words fly away.

i'm letting go.

Tue, 16 Jan 2007 17:37:55 GMT

and really, it's not as easy as all that, those three words, that dot so final. nothing's ever final, and nothing's as dramatic as it seems to be sometimes.

i think if i want to be a good person (whatever that means - the person i want to be), first, i have to be content with the things i do. i think if i don't let go, i'll just dwell 'til i've sunk so far down i have not enough strength and breath to reach fresh air again. i'll just be surrounded with wants, with aspirations, dreaming but never doing anything to achieve them, trapped by my own wishes. [i am a big vision kind of person; the details get me down always always]

first, i must stop wasting time. but is it inhuman, you say, to want to squeeze kipling's sixty seconds of distance run into a single minute? i think it's not so much perfection i'm striving for, just an intensity of life. i am too comfortable sometimes, closed off in my own world and secure that way.

first, i must be bold. bold enough to do without precedents. i say i am letting go but really, i am just seeing what it will be like to be someone amazing in my own right.

before the new year before the new year before the moon spheres

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Tue, 12 Dec 2006 22:50:02 GMT

"If you put fleas in a shallow container, they will rapidly jump out. But if you put a lid on the container for a short time, the fleas will hit the lid, learn to jump only so high, and give up the quest for freedom. After the lid is removed, the fleas will remain imprisoned by their own self-imposed limitations. So it is with life - most people let their own fears, or the impositions of others, imprison them in a world of low expectations."

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

Wed, 06 Dec 2006 21:10:48 GMT

i should run more.

it feels good. especially at night. before everything freezes and slippery sidewalks usurp the usually friendly (but not if you hit it) cement. especially when people look at you from their cars because you're silly* and you wear jeans and a big coat in lieu of anything more aerodynamic that's still warm.

a lot of christmas lights are up and there's this one house on the next block that must save a lot on their heating bill from all the lux-decora, the inflatable light-up snowmen and jogging lights around the windows and something that vaguely looks like a sleigh between the first and second floor windows. it's a waste of electricity, it's a waste of electricity, I say, and it looks gaudy, maybe even meretricious (meretrix = prostitute; notice how it has the same Latin root as "merit".. ah drabs earning their pay; from Gatsby), but oh-so-dazzling at the same time.

everyone is nicer around holidays time, but i do wish light FM would play something other than christmas i-miss-you/love songs because they make me sad.

* silly in the context of the 11th century meant blissful.. mm

ah postsecret oh postsecret

Sun, 19 Nov 2006 21:34:37 GMT