she said, "things that go smoosh."
bye.,
originally uploaded by okta'lonli.
10:03 in the a.m. waking up in my own bed never felt so good for some reason. the blankets seemed to conform just perfectly to my body today. i was woken last night by a phone call at 5: 25 a.m. which put a smile on my face. i know i've been distant lately and there has been much on my mind. my brain doesn't seem to have enough room lately for all that it wants to think about. school seems to be a minor factor in it all and the only steady thing that remains as a constant.
i've been trying to purge my room of useless papers. scanning things that i can throw away but would like to have some sort of digital memory of. old cards, portraits of me drawn by others, notes from long ages ago...all these things seem unnecessary baggage when thinking of moving to new york. i feel as though i am throwing away little pieces of my life, the weight and heaviness, freeing myself for a new life ahead. am i finally closing the doors to my past? do i realize that once i leave here, there will be no turning back?
words and hand-written notes are the things which i treasure. they seem to have so much more weight and impact than an email. finding an old file of an instant message doesn't seem to hold the same impression that i feel when i stumbled on the notes i've left my mother, cards from my brother, letters from a past love that say absolutely nothing (in fact, it is just a blank envelope, with a few sheets of blank white papers insde...one of my most treasured items). these gifts of writing and the thought put into them cost so much more than the rising postage stamps on their envelopes. whomever complains that mail is getting expensive doesn't realize the value of the messages and prices of love that are contained within.
last week, maybe the week before, he wrote me the first letter ever. i could imagine the way he hold his pen as he wrote, the look of careful thought as the pen found its way to the page. it is these imaginations that bring a peace to my heart.
i know that i haven't written for a long time. i often tell people, "i write when i am happy." well, i suppose this statement remains to be true. although not sad, i feel apprehension...anxiety...wondering...a tension of sorts inside me that has been growing. i do not know how to explain...maybe it is better if i just work. in that way, time will pass, and the distance will lessen, as it is time that will lessen the distance.
i've been trying to purge my room of useless papers. scanning things that i can throw away but would like to have some sort of digital memory of. old cards, portraits of me drawn by others, notes from long ages ago...all these things seem unnecessary baggage when thinking of moving to new york. i feel as though i am throwing away little pieces of my life, the weight and heaviness, freeing myself for a new life ahead. am i finally closing the doors to my past? do i realize that once i leave here, there will be no turning back?
words and hand-written notes are the things which i treasure. they seem to have so much more weight and impact than an email. finding an old file of an instant message doesn't seem to hold the same impression that i feel when i stumbled on the notes i've left my mother, cards from my brother, letters from a past love that say absolutely nothing (in fact, it is just a blank envelope, with a few sheets of blank white papers insde...one of my most treasured items). these gifts of writing and the thought put into them cost so much more than the rising postage stamps on their envelopes. whomever complains that mail is getting expensive doesn't realize the value of the messages and prices of love that are contained within.
last week, maybe the week before, he wrote me the first letter ever. i could imagine the way he hold his pen as he wrote, the look of careful thought as the pen found its way to the page. it is these imaginations that bring a peace to my heart.
i know that i haven't written for a long time. i often tell people, "i write when i am happy." well, i suppose this statement remains to be true. although not sad, i feel apprehension...anxiety...wondering...a tension of sorts inside me that has been growing. i do not know how to explain...maybe it is better if i just work. in that way, time will pass, and the distance will lessen, as it is time that will lessen the distance.