apologia

i'm tired of guys saying girls are crazy, and i'm tired of saying boys are assholes. or that they suck. or the whole "girls is conniving bitches" spiel. we should stop with the generalizations. yes, girls and boys do sometimes possess their... particular and distinctive traits.

the truth of the matter is, we are all responsible for each other. most of us will be children till the day we die. so how are we to expect kids to know how to treat something infinitely precious?

this is not to say we don't feel capacity for love, which is one of many things that redeems us.

mostly though, it's that we just suck at taking care of each other. or we're selfish, and things like 'sparing their feelings' or 'not wanting them to get hurt' spawn lies that down the road hurt even more.

so anyone can choose to be bitter and say that girls will just hurt you in the end. that they're smart. or that boys are assholes who will always be assessing other girls.

but each person is a diamond being. and we may be masochistic idiots, but when you venture to fall in love, that real love*, it's only with one person.

and you could not possibly generalize them.







* j has no idea what this is, and has only ever come close. but it exists, which is good enough for the purpose at hand

.0827

the more i talk to boys about their girl problems, the more i realize:

BOYS

ARE

IDIOTS

:@

boundaries of language

accept that you are not going to be able to go everywhere you want to go. that tempus fugit, and there is never enough of it. so even though you're on some island off the coast of spain that has the most beautiful beaches you've seen on paper, even if you're about 20 miles away, maybe it's just not feasible at the time. maybe there are constraints.

that's fine. that back alleyway in montevideo or the thermal pool in pantelleria will have to be left for some other person's eyes. we can't mourn the places in the world we'll never be able to go, because it's trying to count grains of sand and hold them all in your hand. we get one handful. maybe two, if we're lucky.

we'll just let them pass through our fingers, and let the tide move us where it does. 

make a sound

yeah no.... those were not...that day was not..  spent... sober....

also! growing my hair out! until this again.

i would cut it off dramatically, claiming a NEW CHANGE in which i am a strong, competent woman! deep and powerful and able to move on, and needing no man to quantify my worth! ha HA!

but, i was already all of that.

so, long it grows. 

retrospection again

This is a long ass entry. Ahhhh the end of the school year. This was actually one for the books, I'd say. Don't think I ever would have seen it coming. So much heartbreak. MY MOM THREW AWAY MY FAVORITE PAIR OF PJ PANTS. God that still kills me. okay but really, I stepped foot off that 20 hour flight and a few hours later, started working at under the couch next to a newly introduced mike. (I hate that I can actually remember the day we met, because it was the first day of school, and, that makes it like, god damn my memory)  (aug. 23rd)  I was so 'homesick' that week I could barely sleep for the dreams where you'd wake up with your hand in the air, someone's name on your lips, because you'd dreamed them here, not oceans apart. You dreamed them whole, and able to watch you grow old. And then two weeks later, a misguided confession in the grass that I couldn't stop shaking to, whereupon everything afterwards quietly stung like a papercut because of this color and these bovine eyes.

Then school really started, and I swear the only thing that kept me sane was utc and the few smears of people left that hadn't moved on with their lives already. Sang and Jef were givens. Ben was new. Dev is, I think, so close to being my sister sometimes I think I believe it. And then it was being overwhelmed to the point of tears a lot of days, because of the coursework.

Then a bunch of mn people decided to go to rocky mountain one day, and I found the mid soc. God, I fucking love you guys to death. Many a beer was drunk over conversation of oh shit, I think I like hirthy for real, enough to completely risk it (never happened before) all the way to its end of oh, shit, mike doesn't like me enough to treat me with a modicum of decency (never happened before).

In the end, it was eli's quiet conversations tinged with overprotectiveness, and evan's constant reassurance that I was someone worth loving that just-- they just, I mean I don't even-- where would I be without them? Where would I even be without them?

But don't get me wrong. I don't regret mike, most of the time. Some days, I do believe that some of it was genuine. He was the first I actually really liked, and I took a chance, and that's fine. That's what you're supposed to do, because was the risk so great that it was better to live without him? And on the days of indifference, and being treated like shit, the risk was still worth it. We (I, really) gave it the old college try. And I'm still glad I was more a fool than a coward. Up until I ended it, he genuinely made me happy because of who he was, and sad because of the sheer amount of power and affection I placed in his clumsy hands. I suppose now, I'm waiting until I can meet his eyes again. Or smile for real. Or just get over him so we can be decent friends. (for the kids who are grubbing for gossip, don't say I never did you any favors)

In any case, the year's done. I know not a lot of people care, or even think about it. But I have attachment problems, and I linger, and I remember everything. From the first midsoc pitcher of sweetwater happy ending to the pattern of ben's sweater as I hugged him for the last time. The shape of the table Dev and I studied at, in an abandoned IC, Yohan's thursday dinners. The taste of cheap sangria in a slightly sandy cup in south walton, where people walk out of their houses to food stands strung with christmas lights. and hirthy's bright blue basketball shorts when we met for student center training. That sounds creepy, doesn't it? I just-- it's just detail. Everything in life is startling with its vivid intricacy. Those three soft kisses that one cloudy morning, my favorite thing of it all. The thing I would keep if I were allowed to remember one minute of our entire 'togetherness'.

I clinked glasses enough times at sweetwater, so here's a proverbial cheers. It was one of the most meaningful years so far, in my limited and tender time, and I never want to repeat it again.

TL;DR MY MOM DIDN'T EVEN ASK ME BEFORE SHE THREW AWAY MY PJ PANTS

dino boy's got a dirty mouth. i like it.