we went to the land this weekend. all of us, piled into cars with parents and food. out of the city and into the green. i don't know exactly the details, which ones will do justice. how to say lighting and love: sleeping in a shed together. the sound of kissing all night so i made up songs on the ukulele to drown out the noise of bare feet coming out of mud. or something.

tonight and everything about ever

i won a bunch of awards at the senior dinner formalities tonight--stood up and was clapped at--felt elated before sinking back down. got home and cried because my surrogate aunts are all the way across the country and have no idea of how hard i've been working.

it's all a mess, all this feeling, about all the people who i miss loving. the family, the boys, the friends i never made.

and everything is about to change. tonight, i told fran that my parents are moving, and he got all sad, which seemed strange, since, he and i are not that close. the disappearance of people from your daily live can feel strangely tragic if you think about it too much.

after a moment he got all giddy--realizing that he and are forever bonded by being class leaders, bonded by planning the reunions, bonded by bringing us all back to this moment over and over again.

and the act of returning to the past, of remembering, of taking photos, and making the calls to far away friends, and trying, to bring everything that has happened with us into the future, what is all the remembering for?

my dad is packing, putting things into boxes, but what do you take? what old stretched out socks that you'll never wear again come along? what pieces of paper with your name written on it do i take, and which do i recycle?

usually i try to answer my own questions, but tonight there are only questions and quiet heartbreak.

suffice it to say...

i know that i abandoned this blog for a very long time, but suffice it to say that it was a bad winter/early spring and no amount of lyricism could have made this blog anything other than my complaining. but suffice it to say that i am trying to write a lot now, and suffice it to say that i will be updating this blog with astounding frequency, or at least with frequency, in the coming weeks and months.

also: remember the life plans that i used to do on this blog like a million years ago? well now my life, or at least the next four years, or at least the next year is planned out: i'm going to a small very liberal liberal arts school in the hudson valley. i'm really excited even though it was not, at all, ever, something i wanted to do. it was the life plan you write down only because it won't hurt to send your common app online application to another school. it was like that.

the would feels fabulously open. in the still rainy month of may. i wander without an umbrella--ending up at the burger king with the girl who makes youtube videos, watching her eat two veggie burgers and a small order of fries and brag about not getting fat.

that's my life now. that and trying to write a lot.

today

today, my life felt like an episode of skins, and i almost wanted to crawl out of my own skin, to not have a life but not in the sense of being dead. i wanted to slip under your skin to be with you, in the sense of showing you love, in the sense of loving you, so that maybe we'll both feel a little bit less alone.

but let me quantify, today is not singular, today is all the days when suddenly the problems seem over blow and dramatic and unsolvable and complicated. like a book we'd read in lit, only it's real and it's me and it's you.

but let me quantify, the you, is plural, kathryn would say vous.

and vous it is. i love vous. mme colleran would always say that vous was like y'all, so i love, y'all, literally, you-all. i want to take care of you.

i cooked for you today. being a mom, in the kitchen, asking you a million questions, trying to understand. trying to understand and to be with you. trying to slip out of myself and into your skin. to try to love you from the inside out, to try to convince you to love yourself. to try to be with you for a moment so that we might both feel less alone.

at youth group this morning i was jumping onto couches, demanding pass words for entry, and laughing through my nose. and then i came home and left again, this time with all that energy spilling into instead of out of me.

my bed is full of books of poetry, but i am not a happy poet. i will never even make it as a poet, as a person. i feel fated to fail.

february has not been kind to me, to any of us.

when will it be warm again?

tired beyond belief

sleep has been an issue. hope as been an issue. breathing has, thankfully, not been an issue.

i'm at the spot right now, just finished my bagel. i like to salt and pepper by bagels. they taste better that way. anyway. i'm sitting here waiting. bones weighed down with whatever emotional and or physical weight that makes us tired.

i am typing right now. my wrists are sore and i want to watch skins. is it okay to watch skins on my laptop at the coffee shop? or do i need to wait until i get home, is tv somehow a private activity, in someway that typing is not, in some way that speaking is not?

i'm starting to feel like a grown up. the emotional complexity of any given day is incomprehensible.

instead of crying, biting the inside of your check, pushing your tounge to the top of your mouth, like it said on that website. how helpful or unhelpful that is. sitting in math class insisting that you're going to be okay, insisting that you are something that is worth it, something that you love, somethig that will be cared for. or something.