Wednesday, March 28, 2012

A few things

1. I deleted my facebook.
2. I got in to grad school.
3. I miss this puppy:
photos by Alex
Even though he's just across the street now, it's just not the same. I want to be a puppysitter for life.

I love him I love him I love dancing with him I love him.
Which brings me to:
4. I want/ need a dog.
5. Can I really be here for two more years? Can I really do that?

I am at such an incredibly transient point in my life. It's nice in a way (probably in the same way that leaning over a gaping precipice is nice), but it's also, well, a b*%$#.  This kind of freedom is more horrifying than liberating. I have a few more weeks of college, an extremely single self, an acting gig that expires on June first, a housing contract that expires on June first, and... oh yeah, that's it.
Come June first I am either a new woman/ lone, adventure-seeking shewolf/ freelance writer ninja.... or just. Me. Alone. With nothing to do.
ummmm cool.

...What should I do? 

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

I just want people to be real

whatever that means.
This stupid post-modern education of mine has doomed me to be unable to think in absolutes.
 Reality. pff. There is none. 
So, really, my struggle for authenticity is so futile because I'm trying to be authentic. Which is the opposite of authenticity. But anyway.

My point is, more and more when people are talking to me lately I just want to scratch off all their insecurities and puttings-on and somehow let them know that they can just be with me. What if we all were to just be? Would we end up being anything or would we just... evaporate somehow? I don't know what I'm saying.

But every day when we choose how we're going to be that day... could we at least choose to pretend to be real? Or something like that?
Choose to pretend to act like we're being the idea of "authentic" that we conjure up in our own heads which is merely a self-created reality that probably has very little to do with real reality?
Ugh. Come on, people. Just stop acting like you're too cool. We all matter.

Schelling said, "Most people turn away from what is concealed within themselves just as they turn away from the depths of the great life." 
I'm annoyed because what I want most is to dive right into those great, dark depths, but I'm afraid of being lonely once I get there.

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

good things.

1. good things still happen.



Brookie.




"With rushing winds and gloomy skies
The dark and stubborn Winter dies:
Far off, unseen, Spring faintly cries,
Bidding her earliest child arise;
March!"
Bayard Taylor, "March"
  
  

(We would like to go outside, please.)

2. Good things still happen.
Just when I'd consigned myself to be a shriveled up loser forever, the theatre gods magnanimously cast me in The Secret Garden.
And just when I'd decided to go to bed until graduation (or, more likely, much later) because my brain doesn't work and I'm tired and I've (for lack of a gentler term) screwed up my college education (and everything else), the research paper gods told me I won second place in a prestigious essay contest.
AND DESPITE THAT I still decided that I'm never going to be a writer and no one wants me to be a writer and my life is, for all intents and purposes, over. But then the publication gods said that a Women's Studies journal wants my Mormon feminist rant paper that I wove together with my soul.
I am humbled and so happy about these good things. 
Just a few days ago a dear friend told me that I was "about to turn a beautiful, beautiful corner." I so wanted to believe her. I should have.
And now it's time to turn back and tell everyone I love the same thing-- to help them find their corners. I have been way too sad lately to be anything but selfish, selfish, selfish. 

But there's time to change. Because good things still happen.
Love, light, and singing the most beautiful songs every night at rehearsal/ starting to write words again because I AM a writer, dagnabbit,
Banana


Friday, March 2, 2012

Time flies with strings attached.

Just discovered Duy Huynh
It's just sweeping me away and I'm not sure if I have much control over where I'm going.
Where am I going?

Carry

I want to carry you
and for you to carry me
the way voices are said to carry over water.

Just this morning on the shore,
I could hear two people talking quietly
in a rowboat on the far side of the lake.

They were talking about fishing,
then one changed the subject,
and, I swear, they began talking about you.

Billy Collins

that's all, folks

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