last night

there was something intoxicating in the air last night.. it left my dreaming about laying in the grass/ankles crossed/gazing at the stars. i felt something i had been missing: excitement for being alive. not excitement for fast cars/fast boys/fast parties, but just enjoying the conversation, the music and the feeling of the pavement on the palms of my hands (and picking the gravel out when i stand up.)

i want to keep breathing the moment/the crisp air/the contentment and never exhale.

i'm going to see 'pedro the lion' tonite at sokol.

i've had two caramel machiattos today.

i've been listening to soul coughing religiously.

i just finished 'the virgin suicides' by jeffrey eugenides.

here's an excerpt:

we knew what it felt like to see a boy with his shirt off, and why it made lux write the name kevin in purple magic marker all over her three-ring binder and even on her bras and panties, and we understood her rage cming home one day to find that mrs. lisbon had soaked her things in clorox bleaching all the "kevins" out. we knew the pain of winter wind rushing up your skirt, and the ache of keeping your knees together in class, and how drab and infuriating it was to jump rope while the boys played baseball. we could never understand why the girls cared so much about being mature, or why they felt compelled to compliment eachother, but sometimes after one of us had read a large portion of the diary out loud, we had to fight the urge to tell eachother how pretty we were. we felt the imprisonment of being a girl, the way it made your mind active and dreamy, and how you ended up knowing which colors went together. we knew, finally, that the girls were really women in disguise, that they understood love and even death, and that our job was merely to create the noise that seemed to fascinate them.

inability to love is the central problem because that inability masks a certain terror, and that terror is the terror of being touched. if you can't be touched, you can't be changed. if you can't be changed, you can't be alive. - james baldwin

i spent most of my week in iowa city planning the next four years of my life.

i'm ready.

there's a world out there.. i swear.. i've seen a glimpse of the world outside of glenwood.. i've seen/breathed/eaten inspiration..

i want to get my hair cut short/sleep under the stars/dance in the rain/paint my nails the rainbow/photograph every corner of your eyes/take more walks with my brother.

i woke up late. read. ate waffles with strawberries and syrup. rode my bike. bought a caramel machiatto. sorted my clothes. laid out at the pool with meg.

my grandma just called and wanted to know if austin's younger brother was going out with david's friend because they were sitting together at church. i hate small towns.

today i bought:
one scoop of peppermint stick icecream on a children's cone
modest mouse: this is a long drive for someone with nothing to think about
/ishamel/ by daniel quinn
a photograph of john lennon in a new york city tee shirt
/stones from the river/ by ursula hegi
a sampler including onelinedrawing, pedro the lion, jets to brazil, the promise ring
/the power of myth/ by joseph campbell

i spent $30.

the old market just rocks my socks sometimes.

new york, new york

---> broadway, iced caramel machiatos, urban outfitters, an old woman in a yellow lace dress and huge white sunglasses sitting on a bench kicking her feet, h + m, a lovely candle shop, beautiful men, jack kerouac, canal street, thai, elise, headphones on the subway, natural curl, shirley temples, the boy in front of me at cabaret, grenwich, platform shoes on cobblestone streets, realizing how insignificant my problems are (but how much i matter), schizophrenics i enjoy listening to, lace skirts, mix cds from ry, i-d, dean + deluca (where's felicity)..

i found my heaven. i hope you know yours. <3>

p.s. i'll be "home" on saturday.

it's coming to an end

i have one day left of high school. the book is about to close on this chapter of my life and eventhough it's time i just can't believe it.

i remember walking down the halls staring at the ground my freshman year.. finally finding the darkroom, and a boy who changed my perspectives (and widened my universe).. discovering emerson and thoreau.. crying over boys, fights and other trivial matters.. getting ready to go out dancing or to parties.. having a crush.. being the homecoming queen.. going to concerts.. dating the rock boys..

looking back on it now, it was great. it was the way high school was suppossed to be for me. i didn't slow down, and i didn't mold into anyone's ideals..

now i have a summer to look forward to.. a summer of being in between and searching farther and deeper.

i can take long runs, take exciting vacations, read anaïs nin and pablo neruda, and just enjoy..

and i will.

never look back unless you intend to go that way.

frazzled

i'm feeling frazzled. there was no flow today.. just a lot of burnt ends and tired sarcastic comments.

a table fell on me when i was getting bread out of the backroom. while being trapped to the floor the used mopping water fell over me.

now it's time for my photography class.

good god.