the sunday of our discontent

I’ve been thinking a lot about moving very far away. I used to think I could only live in the city because I loved the sophistication, the independence, and the constant activity. The buzz, the commotion, the excitement in a metropolis is almost tangible, it tantalizes every sense. However, I’ve come to realize that it isn’t so much that I need to be in the city and more that I loathe American suburbia with every molecule of my being. The never ending miles of Albertsons, McDonalds, Wal Mart, and strip malls never ceases to give one the feeling of a rock in the gut. I remember being almost physically sick for the entirety of the time I read Fast Food Nation because I was so disgusted with the realization that I lived in this hell hole of festering greed and sameness.

I’d like to move to a bustling city, but I would be equally happy in the middle of nowhere. I’d like to be cut off from all modernization. There is something so Walden-esque, so romantic about being surrounded completely by nature. I love the outdoors, I love those havens that haven’t been exploited and destroyed by the food chains and mini marts. This is why I’ve decided I must move to Ireland, Wales, or some other haunt in the European countryside. I want to be surrounded by sea, trees, and landscape for miles.

I’m not going to lie. Lately, I have been lazy, indulgent, and void of any self discipline. I hate that. I don’t want to hate myself. I need to work through this. There isn’t a painting to jump into or a magical train platform located at 9 ¾. This sounds so silly, I’m almost ashamed to admit it, but in the back of my mind there has always been the small spark of hope that these things actually existed. That there were other worlds waiting, the worlds found in books, for those that believed.

I hope all my longing for leaving my current state doesn’t sound self-centered or whiny. I am thankful for things, even if I don’t show it as best I could. I’m thankful for books, music, history, the sound of waves, sunsets, my sister’s piano playing, and for my own desire for adventure…and so much more. The world is full of beauty, you just have to look for it.

i don't do too much talking these days

i have measured out my life in coffee spoons

I fluctuate between loving and hating my family. Today I mostly love them. When my sister isn’t being stubborn or purposefully irritating, she can actually be quite hilarious. We can quotes movies and do impressions together for hours. I need to work harder at consciously getting along with her. We are each other’s strongest allies when we aren’t busy bickering. Honestly, my mom hates it when we both side against her on something.

Oh, my mother. When will I ever learn to get along with her? Sometimes I wonder if are personalities are too contrasting for it to be possible.

I am feeling so much better today, almost liberated. The sun finally came out, but a faint breeze kept the weather from being utterly unbearable. I love sitting on the deck and reading when that sort of miracle occurs. I finished I Capture the Castle yesterday and it was very different from what I expected but I loved it, nonetheless. Finishing books the day you buy them is such a nasty habit though! I always chastise myself from barreling through them the way I do, but I don’t have enough self control to keep myself away from the beckoning pages. I have a whole theory about this that I was planning to share here, but I do believe I will save it for another day.

It doesn’t take a lot to make me happy. I bought Clueless for the whole sum of five dollars and was positively elated. I’ll most likely watch it tonight with chocolate and two cans of Diet Coke. You can’t watch a movie like that without indulging in at least a few guilty pleasures. I have two new books to read too, and for the first time in weeks it feels like I’m regaining some control and composure back. Maybe all the lists I’m making on my listography (check it out, by the way) are getting me back into the swing of setting goals.

It’s not like all the bad stuff went away, I’m just choosing to ignore it for right now.

did you ever want to be overrun by bandits?

I don’t know how to coherently collect my thoughts anymore. Everything I’m planning to say sounds fine in my head, but the minute it gets written out it becomes disorienting and rather depressing. Can someone get word vertigo? I guess so, because I’m experiencing it at this very moment.

I’m developing some sort of avoidant personality disorder. I’m pretty sure all my friends hate me. I wish I could assure them that once Fall hits, I’ll be normal again. Summer has never treated me like this before.

Everything has been too hectic and loud lately. I went down to Pike Place around a week ago and it was swarming with tourists. I’d never seen it so busy. If I was in my normal state of mind, I probably would have thought the chaos was exciting.

If I was in my normal state of mind…

part of the beauty of falling in love with you is the fear you won't fall

I need school to start. I need this “break” to be over with. This tortuous, never-ending break.

Without a million things to do, my mind starts wandering. I start reliving past summers. I start wishing things would happen that could never possibly happen. Now I remember why I’ve always kept myself so busy.

“I want to know you," he whines.
"What?" "Know you. I want to know you." Pleading.
"What does that mean? Know me?" I ask him. "Know me? No one ever knows anyone. Ever. You will never know me."

I’m sick of myself, and sick of everyone else, and I just need to leave the country for a couple of years. I don’t want to be Felicity, I want to be Sabrina.

I don’t want to ever feel like the odd one out again. Is that even possible?

In the morning through the window shade
When the light pressed up against your shoulder blade
I could see what you were reading

Oh the glory that the lord has made
And the complications you could do without
When I kissed you on the mouth

It’s amazing how a song, a smell, a taste can bring back a whole flood of memories. Images that you had crammed in the smallest compartment of your brain, determined to never remember again. Then it all comes flooding back and suddenly it is like you are there. You feel every sensation just as it happened. And, now matter how much it hurts, you can't stop looking back. It's worth all the pain to relive those days when you were so blissfully...unaware.

I should stop blogging late at night.