Quarter in Review

The quarter is finally over.

I'm feeling pretty good at this point. This has been my hardest school session so far, but I think I handled it well. Things will just get harder the closer I get to graduation, so I guess I should get used to it. I'm trying not to get too excited yet - I'll let myself relax (or not) when final grades come out.

This quarter has been a lot different from the last one. I feel like I've grown closer to different people, and distanced from some people that I didn't expect to. I've been working harder in classes, I've surprised myself and been thoroughly disappointed a few times too. I think if anything this quarter has been a lesson in expectations. Too often I come up with expectations of what I want to happen or what I think should happen, and about 80 percent of the time these plans don't develop the way I want them too. It's silly, I guess, to get so invested in the way things aren't or the way I want them to be, but I don't really know how not too. I see my life, and I see how beautiful it is, but I can't help but see the things that aren't there at the same time. I almost think that all of my problems would be solved if I could learn to let go of a few things, but I love them too much. I somehow got this weird idea in my head that one day I will wake up and things will be easy, that they'll be fixed. I know this doesn't really happen, but doesn't it? Sometimes I look around and just think, "doesn't it?" . Life hinges in moments, but I guess even the universe isn't that good. But I'm working through things as best as I can. And I really am happy, honest. I'm just trying to take care of some loose ends.

It's in the air.

Nostalgia gives way to potential,

The homey homely to the imagined image -

The things that buzz, drunk on desires,

Granting glances at what may only be guessed at.

They move freely and happily between

What may only be traversed through pain.

These are my fireflies; palm trees by day, neon by night.

You can try and kill them if you like,

But it’s more than them you’ll have to reckon with.

Vision is almost as flimsy as thought

And neither may die, only move, only hope, only cry,

Gilded with the shadow of membrane that curves

around what is hidden by ivory and wine

and what gains passage on the wind.

The paths I’m peddling towards,

Map-less and blind, lie somewhere in between.

So I’ve been told.


*For reals post later this week, hopefully.