stumbling now

of who i want to be in theory and who i want to be in actuality. the discrepancy is unpleasant but i feel like the word unpleasant is too contained to match of the feeling of being ripped between two worlds or maybe more.

maybe it could have worked if we could live in one place, if we could lay in bed until we were ready to get up and didn't spend our time thinking about the places we ought to go but the places we want to go.

of what it is in theory to be young and what it means to live with the years yet to come weighing down instead of standing on the years already lived proud or ashamed i'm not sure that it matters. the expectation is crushing, carrying something heavy or something light, walking through the night.

sometimes i am sure of something. some moment where i am sure or not so sure that everything is not the same. when i feel like i know things in my gut instead of in my head i feel like my gut is falling out. like the gut is too heavy for the body and is dragging on the ground, the redness of my imagined gut getting dirty, like an open wound or something.

like to know is to be open to the world, to be ready to get dirty and infected, to be ready to die or to be ready to live. mumbling now.

of course there is a more important word document open. of course i am wasting time. of course ke$ha almost makes me cry when she comes up on my pandora, of course i cried in the bathroom, kneeling on the floor. of course it all reminds me of you. if course i'm not sure. of course you don't read my blog. of course i am a girl incapable of making choices or not being tired. of course i write long rambling stories about forgiveness. of course i want to try again. of course i want to stop trying and start laying in bed. of course i'd rather that we not go anywhere and that our lives be contained in a snow globe. of course we would blow up the snow globe, of course there is no choice in any of this. of course i love you.

I am in Iowa City

Tonight was something that I could care about. Or something. It was the way that I want things to be forever, except for the interrupting phone call that made me feel sick and the possibility that forever is too long for things to be fun. As though or as if a moment catching fireflies (a shockingly easy task) could get boring after a life time. Could a moment be a lifetime and/or in what ways is a lifetime a moment? The walks home in the dark. The ones where voices are flying and your feet are flying and the air is perfect. Could your life be a walk home in the dark and/or is your life walking home in the dark? Although that implies a final resting place, a bed, and a lamp, and the ability to make cheesy pasta while listening to the radio—I don’t believe in Heaven but walking towards a hole in the ground is not fun at all, as though or as if having the goal of home actually changes the air on your skin and your feet on the warm cement, and the sound of your friend’s voice.

i feel asleep in a wet shirt today. today i have no motivation. today my whole school smelled like shit from the poorly ventilated chemistry lab. i don't know what to tell you. i want to know everything. or nothing at all. i feel like a big kid but don't feel like telling the internet all my secrets. i don't give a shit what you know about me. today while i was riding my bike i thought about how i have no sense of privacy. it's the internet, or something. today i don't care. i feel asleep in a wet shirt today.