I wish I could make everyone see how good we are and how we eat with our keys in the dark in the woods on a rock a gazillion feet over the nearest ground when it's misty-raining and we're happy and smoosh our faces together and sleep and joke at inappropriate moments and look at clouds making art in the sky and talk about the future and talk about now and talk about the past and talk about EVERYTHING and talk about how great it is that we talk about everything and talk about each other and us and love each other every day with no breaks and no fading AND I wish everyone could know how I am not an idiot and I trust my own mind BECAUSE no one ever seems to realize I'm not just flying on whims and "being naive" all the time and all that meaningless psychobabble bullshit I get fed every day by every person except him, no one knows what they're talking about, no one has lived any life before this so how can you tell anyone how they feel or what to do in any situation that is not yours? -- BUT at the same time is not for them to know, thank GOD, he is for me, we are for each other (thenlaughleaningbackinmyarmsforlife'sno
And if I look back on this and think I was an idiot, well, at least I was an idiot. At least I was alive, and I experienced being an idiot. I was a lucky girl for just that. Thank god I could be alive and be an idiot.
It is fall. The weather is perfect. My absolute favorite kind.
I have new glasses.
Wearing them, I can see every leaf on every tree. Bright green and some yellows and oranges starting to arrive. Really fucking gorgeous against the blue blue sky.
I am in love.
Someone is in love with me back.
My friends are the smartest, wittiest, most independent, creative bitches I could have ever hoped to find in this town.
Music makes my heart explode. I find new things. I still love old things. Ben Folds and Regina Spektor can still make me cry, laugh, never get old, and even if they do, will be new again in a couple days. WOXY.com refuses to die.
Dancing feels better, physically and mentally. I enjoy it again. My achilles doesn't hurt so much. I have reasons to do it.
I can teach an hour-long class of adorable three year olds who would be content skipping in a circle and playing patty-cake for all they care, and make money just smiling and encouraging them to twirl and leap.
With my teaching money, I can get a cute haircut. Fuck yeah.
My high school football team is kicking ass and taking names. It actually makes me happy for them. For my idiot school to have some success. School spirit is creeping up on me.
There's enough confusion and fear and chaos and negative-positive push-pull drama and bullshit to make me feel alive. If everything was good, how would I know how to appreciate it?
And now, something has come along, and I wasn't even trying, in fact I was trying NOT to, and I don't know what on earth is going on, and I know I'm being vague as hell but it's partially because I can't even begin to describe how I feel about what's happening right now. It's just...it's good. It's just very good.
It's confusing to everyone except me. I'm pretty sure everyone is like, "What the hell?" And I understand. I'd be that way if I were them. But I am not confused. I am delightedly bewildered, but not confused.
I know that people probably think of me as fairly silly and immature, maybe even incapable of making good decisions about this kind of thing. I'm just being realistic--they do. I've given them reason to think that way. So I wish I could convince them that this time, I know what I'm doing.
You are confused. I am absolutely not.
My favorite kind of people are the people that, when you meet them, they are instantly your friend. Not in a fake over-doing-the-friendly-thing way, just in the way that you know they're cool with you and you don't have to worry about impressing them. You are their friend until proven otherwise, not the other way around. I hope I'm that kind of person.
Seeing seniors leave is such a unique kind of sad. This year I've become friends with the nicest boy I've ever met, the nicest girl I've ever met, my most favorite Venezuelan of all time, and a various few other INSANELY cool and unique personalities. I'm going to miss them so much. I don't know how I'm going to be handling things this time next year. I'll be crying all day that Friday, I'm sure of it. Which is just great. Crying at school sucks big ones.
I remember when things weren't a soap opera. That was nice. That was so nice.
Me: That should give me some nice karma.
Me: Wishing for the well-being of the careers of others.
Me: ...Maybe that wouldn't help his career.
Sagen: I feel like nobody can make 50 albums.
Me: I feel like that too. I feel like he should do Georgia, and then be like, you guys thought I was serious?
Me: He can have songs about...MLK...and...peaches...and courtroom shootings...and apartment fires...and cows.
Sagen: Oh! Ray Charles.
Me: Sherman's March.
Sagen: And us.
Me: Sagen. Ray Charles. Haley.
Sagen: But it will have a long, Sufjan-esque title?
Me: The song about us and Ray Charles?
Me: We could think of some.
Me: Canton, or, Round Of Applause for Haley and Sagen!
Me: Let's Hear Jump On It Again, Because I Don't Think They Heard It All the Way Out in Cumming.
Sagen: I really like these.
Me: It Is Mrs. Barth!! She Is Our Teacher!! She Has Come Back From The Dead!! Ahhhhh!
How is it possible that I feel more stressed out right now than I did earlier in the year when I was actually busy?
Will people get mad at me if I just start turning around and walking away from conversations on a regular basis?
Will they still be mad if I explain that it is for health reasons?
What if I get a note signed by my doctor?
What if I get a special bracelet that says "If this patient has been exposed to drama for more than 5 minutes and is convulsing or unconscious, please call this number and administer her medication?"
What would that medication BE? Ecstacy? Blood pressure medication? I don't even know. This metaphor should stop now.
My family actually does have a history of high blood pressure. I think that's a valid enough excuse to use for anything that is stressing me out. "PLEASE HUSH, YOU ARE CONTRIBUTING TO MY FUTURE HEART PROBLEMS, THANK YOU."