i wonder if my existance will forever be in vain
or will it
inspire symphonies?

Well then

When I love: It's too hard or too far or not to your liking.

I had my first hangover in two years today.

I've been so off and so on at the same time. I scribble to myself so much now because my mood is changing with the seasons.

+ I can't stop writing. I haven't felt like this in so long. I don't know if it is getting better or not, but it's nice. I'm trying not to judge so hard.
+ The spectrum of feelings is welcome. I hate static.

- I don't know how much fun I am to be around during this time though. :/

-INSERT LONG UNNESSESARY DIGRESSION HERE-

Today (well...december 6th. so i guess technically yesterday) would have been my grandma's birthday. I miss her so much. There was a time when I couldn't go a day without thinking about her. Now, it is not so frequent as that . That woman raised me. Now I am so careful of keeping family close, making sure they feel loved and I'm always on edge about their safety and general well-being. It all happened the way that it should have, minus the fact that she isn't here right now. I saw her fading before my very eyes and somehow just knew, i just knew. There was no indication that she was getting any sicker or anything. Yes, she was diabetic, but managing. For a whole year, I had this aching raw feeling in the pit of my stomach because I knew something terrible was going to happen, and every hug I squeezed her tighter and tighter because I knew it was approaching the last. The night of her last birthday with us, I retreated to my room and wept like I never knew I could because I knew! I'll always remember those eyes, those eyes she gave me the last time before she went to the hospital. It was Christmas eve and I was leaving her house. Something was off when I kissed her goodbye: we locked gazes. Something about the way she looked at me then made me want to thank her for everything and tell her all of my secrets. "Are you...you know...okay?" I asked her. She paused for a moment to consider. She knew. "I'm fine. Goodnight, I love you."
What did I want to say? I wanted to ask her more about when she was a little girl, I wanted to tell her how she should hold on, just a little longer because I needed her: Oh dear God, I needed her.
Instead, I settled for: "I love you too, Grandma. I'll see you tommorow"
And then, I didn't.

< / END LONG UNESSESSARY DIGRESSION >

The first snow over here is a big reminder. Whilst walking back to my dorm from the shuttle bus and I looked up at the flurries falling in my face and had to laugh. When I was fifteen, I'd pleaded with her in whatever form she had taken to just let me know she was somewhere out there. Nothing more than free associating, begging into the void:

"Are you out there? LET ME KNOW!"

I'd thought I was being sly with whatever was up there when I added the extra condition: "If you're up there, prove it, make it snow tommorow."

And snow it did.

I still don't know if I believe my clumbsy 10th grade quasi-prayer was really answered. I like to believe everything is a sign. I suppose it doesn't really matter what it was, it served me well as a reminder to always go out on a limb and hope unabashedly.
Dare to make a wish and maybe, just maybe, it will alter your self-fulfilling prophecy- that whole reasoning behind why people tend to EPIC FAIL when they think to themselves beforehand "Wow, I am going to fuck this up, now aren't I?".

Hopes are disapointing sometimes though.

Oftentimes.

Especially these days.

It's been a long time since I've felt such longing as I do. I don't know if I have enough in me right now to hope unabashedly.

I’m so jaded by the niceties; give me something soulful, it’s the only remedy
tried and true:
You?

Let the pessimistic pseudo-existential babble begin

["come out from behind your eyes little girl,
outside isn't all grey skies
the light is meant to rap at your window with stones"
this is what they say, and i beg to disagree
i'll have no part of yours--got my own reality

i'll sleep like i have, while you parade with torches
blazing brighter than the high noon sun
on the sticky day when contempt came to play ]

- 12/04
My writing has gotten so shitty lately, but hey, at least I have felt like writing again.

***

I find it kind of funny how the nights here got warmer, and then colder again.

Now, the energy is just the frenzied, electric anticipation to get this semester over with--if it is cold, i cannot feel it. I spent my first few weeks here feeling like I was walking in a haze, and fell deeper and deeper into it before succumbing completely; I'm glad for this. I think you have to be completely submerged and practically drowning before you can wake up and fully realize the extent to which you're under: and this is merely tepid bathwater. I am resurfacing now, I am falling back into old habits and it's not a bad thing: synthesis is the key.

Finals are coming up. They are inducing lazyness instead of the intended call to attention. I am not overwhelmed or unmotivated: I've handled workloads far greater than this. Maybe that's why I can't focus, oddly enough. I'm always so bent on doing work I care about the right way, but focus evades me and procrastination completely consumes me. I can forsee a few all-nighters the very near future.

I am in such a piss poor mood lately. I've been listening to a lot of old spring awakening workshop stuff, so it probably has to do with my feeling nostalgic. Atop that, I've been rocking out to voxtrot, and bloc party all day.

That is all.