haha no, not creepy! :)

and no, i wasn’t there this week; i was there two summers ago. last summer, my area’s young life went to rockbridge (and i went), and they’re going to rockbridge this year, but i have to work. :( saranac was sooooo much fun, though… i miss it!

Awwww, thanks so much! That’s so great to hear, considering I want to be a writer and all. :) Dream job: travel writer.

(written July 2, 2011)

There were thoughts that could have been there. Thoughts about starting a new summer job. Thoughts about leaving her most treasured friends behind in short while, thoughts that future acquaintances would not have even half the charm and magnetism of past ones. Thoughts of undone laundry and the difficulties of cooking attempts and making expenses meet wages in the future. Yet she thought to herself, if it were not that I was thinking about not thinking of these thoughts, they would not be present. She knew that this did not make sense, but neither did most of the scrambled eggs that comprised her mind, floating around like amorphous water droplets in zero gravity. But the point was - in a world where “point” is a relative term, for they are often misguided and not very sharp - while these thoughts visited, they were weightless and held no significance. For truly, her thoughts were pure. They were the immersion of dirty feet into cool water. They were wind chimes in the early July morning. They were silk gently grazing one’s face. They were every soul that has ever greeted the breeze with a friendly hello. It was as simple or as complication as one dared make it. For she knew of the bench underneath her thighs and the fountain trickling emeralds and the contrast of blue and green, and that while she could not hear it, music was playing somewhere. Somewhere not very far. She didn’t ask how. She needn’t not even know exactly where. All that was important was that these places existed in the spatial realm. She could not prove this with any mathematical certainty unless she could disprove her insanity, but sanity and insanity were fading hues on a rhetorical and certainly indefinite spectrum. And in another spectrum, she dared for simplicity; tomorrow was for complexity. Tomorrow was for to-do lists and being clean and knowing the month’s date. But today was for being.

I’m feeling rather lonely right now. It’s not a feeling I have often, as I’m normally quite happy, so I’m not worried. But still, it’s just kind of that sinking feeling of…well, I don’t really know what. But it’s that kind of loneliness that being with other people can’t cure, because their interactions all seem like a blur, or like they’re moving in a separate universe to mine. Or like we’re on the same platform waiting for two different trains.

Sorry, I’m sounding rather emo. I promise that’s not me. Though if you were to pull a Jennifer Lopez (J-Lo), with my name, I would be E-mo.

But what I was saying kind of reminds me of a satirical take on this sort of moodiness on the Simpsons; when Millhouse believes his parents have died, he becomes very emotional and says to Lisa something along the lines of, “I’ve wanted you for so long, but now that you’re in my arms, it feels like you’re wearing a parka and I’m wearing mittens.” If it were not coming from a yellow-skinned cartoon character in a humorous sort of manner, it would have been pretty deep and serious-sounding.

But not quite.

Anyway.

That’s something I say a lot: anyway. Because I’m always getting off my original topic or point, or perhaps I didn’t have a topic or point to begin with. I like to ramble when I talk. And sometimes when I write. Only sometimes; it depends on the situation. When my brain is trying to absorb too many thoughts, faster than I can write, faster than I can type, I just write in a very stream-of-consciousness matter, whatever it is that pops into my head. Other times I find it better to plan, to organize, to have a logical flow and edit.

But not now.

Anyway. If you’re reading this, that’s cool and all, but I guess I’m just writing for the personal satisfaction right now. I wrote a few things in Europe (once sitting on a bench in the Villa Borghese in Rome, and I felt so peaceful and blissful and serene) and once after watching “Limitless” on the plane ride home… perhaps I shall upload both later. But as you can see, it has been awhile since I’ve written anything on Tumblr, so I thought, why not?

I’m listening to Mumford & Sons right now.

And wondering about things. When I say “things,” I mean that quite literally, or rather, I’m not purposefully trying to be vague, because to be honest, I’M not even sure what I’m wondering about. Just life, I guess, as is often the case. Love. Friendship. The passage of time. Philosophy. And Harry Potter. Surprised at that last one? Well, I like the occasional shock value, you know, things that seem out of place. :)

Well, I have established nothing of significance or resolved anything, but that was therapeutic nonetheless. :)

Maybe I’ll go upload the one writing from Rome… or maybe not. We’ll see how I’m feeling in the next few minutes haha.

juicyberthon:

i might do this one day. if she says yes shes a keeper for sure.

Imst, Austria

Peterhof, St. Petersburg, Russia

Peterhof, Russia