Remix

[To the other E v.2]


[image via switchscreens]

(tenderness)

‘i love,’ her friend said,
‘to see ships sailing out toward the horizon on the bay.’
the girl imagined her friend could see
from the intimacy of the ferry building
the tactile tugboats disappearing into sentimental muck,
growing smaller and smaller as they tugged out to sea.
her friend said: ‘it makes me sad to see them sailing back in.
i want to say, you have a boat! go see the world!’

(anxiety)

the girl, being an inlander, didn’t share the sentiment, recalling this: the time she went snorkeling with her family off of Sugar Beach, when she stepped into the boat and was immediately seasick because
the floor was physically solid under her feet, but the boat rolled and dipped and she was pulled in opposite directions, while the life vest, tacky against her bare skin, flapped in the breeze like wings.

when the boat hit the shore
she threw up over the side and decided
an airplane would be a better way to see the world –
at least the cabin would be pressurized and
interior monologue, physical reactions, and obsessive behavior
would be kept to an absolute minimum.

(fondness)

to her friend, the girl said, ‘well they can’t sail forever.’

to which her friend said nothing. to which the girl said nothing.

to which her friend said, ‘i’m wearing my purple boots, you know, the ones i wore the last time we got indian food.’ in the city,
before a concert. it was a book club outing. it may have been the last time the girl wore her purple sneakers. which reminded her that they were living in the moment,
eager to connect with one other; two people, different from everyone around them: they were hell-raisers, punk rockers, pop rock enthusiasts nursing crippling caffeine addictions.

(excitement)

so they took matters into their own hands and,
stirred to. . .activity,
they put themselves in motion.
they drove south with the sunroof cracked open,
and composed a rock musical
and ate fast food
and felt good about their freedom
and felt simultaneously trapped by time constraints.
but it was a moment, and they were
in the real state of being, and

(resignation)

coming home was a good feeling. it was not the greatest feeling. it was neither regret nor sadness. it was unnamable.
they worried they would spend another year looking for the things they’d found on the open road and made plans to live in another moment in the near future.
maybe one day they’ll learn to live with what they’re given, but for now this girl and her friend are playing

the
waiting
game.

(contentment)

i got your card today, the girl said. it made me smile.

Just like the dimes that I gave her, I'm scattered

It's a Steel Train kind of morning.

we've got miles and miles of world to run around;
what we've got is old gold, and that's all right

[image via weheartit]

They'll remember only our smiles, 'cause that's all they've seen

[found via weheartit]
Hi from Escazu:

Miss you all so much! I am very well and having a wonderful time. It is such a treat to spend time with the family here who are as kind and generous and wonderful as ever. Tomorrow is the big party and it looks like its going to be a lot of fun.

The time is speeding by very quickly but I am enjoying every minute. Love you all so much.

See you soon.

To the other E

found via weheartit

'i love,' my friend said, 'to see ships sailing out toward the horizon on the bay.' from the ferry building she could probably see the boats growing smaller and smaller as they were pushed out to sea. she said: 'it makes me sad to see them sailing back in. i want to say, you have a boat! go see the world!'

i, being an inlander, didn't share the sentiment.
i remembered the time i went snorkeling
with my family off of Sugar Beach,
and remembered also that when i stepped into the boat
i was immediately seasick. the floor was solid under my bare feet,
but it rolled and dipped and tugged me in opposite directions,
and when the boat hit the shore i threw up over the side.
man overboard.
an airplane would be a better way to see the world, i decided.
at least the cabin would be pressurized.

to her, i said, 'well they can't sail forever.'

to which she said nothing. to which i said nothing.

to which she said, 'i'm wearing my purple boots, you know, the ones i wore the last time we got indian food.' in the city, before a concert. it was a book club outing. it may have been the last time i wore my purple sneakers. which reminded me that we were living in the moment. we are trying to live in the moment, anyway.

so what we did was this:
last weekend we took a trip south.
it was warmer there, and muggier there,
and the music was just as good as it was up north.
we 'tripped down the 405 with the sunroof cracked open,
and we let our hair down
and composed a rock musical
and ate fast food
and felt good about most things
and felt just all right about others.

coming home was a good feeling. it was not the greatest feeling. afterward we made plans to live in another moment in the near future. maybe one day we will see the world for ourselves on a boat (not likely) or an airplane (more likely) or in a car (please). but for now we're playing

the
waiting
game.

i got your card today, i said. it made me smile.

Or the row of vacant cottages

a million miles away

Well, in the waiting room, while waiting for news of you, I hallucinated I could read your mind

The best time to make a blog post is when you do not, in fact, have time to make a blog post.

I've been spending a lot of my time napping lately, which wouldn't be so tragic if I actually had time to nap. At random points throughout the day, I end up stumbling into my room and falling asleep without any warning (but not before blearily setting the alarm on my phone, because who wants to sleep through dinner?), and then I always wake up not knowing what time it is, or what day it is. I've actually woken up a couple times this week convinced that it's Thursday afternoon and that I have missed my POL 152 final. Putting aside the fact that I am clearly very worried about oversleeping and missing my last final (for reasons unknown), my point is that naps, which are most commonly used as some kind of de-stressing technique, should be completely banned from your life if they are only causing you more stress (read: disorientation, racing heartbeat, NIGHTMARES ABOUT MY SISTER THROWING MY COMPUTER OUT A WINDOW...the list is endless).

I think the problems I'm having with naps probably indicate that I'm just having problems with stress in general, but as long as I stay awake I feel fine. Let's not mention the fact that I haven't actually left my apartment to do anything other than make an impromptu Starbucks run since Saturday. Actually, that's a lie -- I drove to the Commons to get a sandwich from Habit burger yesterday. Could poor diet also be contributing to the frequency of my nap terrors? My dad would say yes, but there isn't a lot I can do about it right now. I've been eating a lot of cereal.

As for the people I know who are going through tough times right now, I have one thing to say:


So you've given me all these things and I don't want you to think that I don't appreciate them -- because I do -- but all I really want from you today is a smile. [via pleasefindthis]