i have been alerted that my links for nori and justin were off so here they are again: nori and justin. sometimes i type too fast.
i have to meet ross in a second to go shopping. yesterday at some point i kicked off my shoes and walked into our blue bathroom in the barn, humming to some music ross had playing, and i was suddenly filled w/ feeling — as tho someone had hooked up an iv — of how happy i was to be oncampus and simultaneously off of it, to be w/ my friends, to be safe. it was rather jumbled and fleeting but enuf to make me leave and spontaneously hug rebecca. i do that often so it didn’t surprise her too much. she hugged back. later in the evening she asked me anxiously if she has long legs and if she’s an evil person for writing a story in which kids, even while coping w/ tragedy, have selfish thoughts pop into their heads like, “is this going to ruin the year?” yes and no, i answered respectively. she seemed relieved after my explanations and thanked me. we all fulfill different functions for each other.
last nite it was joel who made me feel stupid. i sat at the table, quietly furious, until i left for campus. i kept biting back retaliatory remarks; in the end i was glad i did. house harmony, house harmony.
being w/ people is an intricate thing. at any moment, i am — or run the risk of being — a bad girlfriend/student/barnmate/person/friend. what can i do? last nite i dreamt that i was back in high skool conducting an affair w/ a spanish teacher who looked more scandinavian than meditteranean. i literally came up to his bicep. it was absolutely ridiculous. in the dream, we were at a party and dancing and he kept reassuring me everything was okay.
i need fabio to tell me everything’s okay? maybe i’m losing it.
there’s a poem rattling around in my head, something about jesus and oil paintings, or about marc, or about toys — i can’t really tell yet. i haven’t written a poem in over a month. wow. to a degree, the whole writing process is akin to getting my period. it occurs to me at some point that an interval has passed and that’s usually the signal that the cycle’s about to start again. of course, i write poems w/ much greater frequency but it still seems very organic and while it’s occurring, very distracting. i can’t concentrate on much else w/o flashing back to either.
was that too weird? did i just turn off 76% of my readership? do i have a readership, or will i, once blogger takes me off the main page?
when i went home this afternoon i made a collage of some photographs that i hadn’t put up on my walls. it’s adorable. i don’t know why i did it. ross was making carrot cake; i think i felt a need to be functional.
when people say they’re scared of me, or act like it, what do they mean? sometimes i feel like the least intimidating person on the planet.