crying forever

my bike was stolen and i literally feel empty

really living?

stuck in this really dissonant state of feeling very productive and active and at the same time very lazy. extreme productivity in class and biking 7.5 miles to school & back every day makes me feel amazing, but when i get home, all i find myself wanting to do is curl up on the couch and drift off while watching netflix, half-eaten dinner in hand.

afraid that i'm about to start my period/fighting off a cold, because once i get tired lately, i am deliriously tired and can't get any work done, which is not me. i feel extremely disassociated lately.

hoping to wake up tomorrow not feeling like i do currently

Sometimes my mom can say really hurtful things off the cuff, jokingly.

I have worked really hard to get to where I am, literally on the map and in the sense that I am standing head and shoulders above any level of happiness and stability I've ever experienced.

on emptiness, things that are over, and romanticizing silly things

no but seriously. it's like every time I come to evansville, it's the same old loop and i always write the same thing. aside from select friends who don't piss me off (blake, ivy), I generally feel reinforced in my decision to leave evansville by the time my visit is over, soaking in the few sun-streaked bits of happiness from coffee with blake or campy horror films with ivy & time spent biking or driving alone with music. these introspective moments are what I take from evansville, because there is always so much going on in Chicago that I don't get quiet moments like that in the hustle & bustle.

I hate writing so much about Dylan because when I am in Chicago and am happy, I don't think about him. but being back in evansville puts me in this weird state of being in which I am always on guard that we'll end up next to each other at a stoplight or something, and I just hate it. it makes me really self-aware, and not in a good way. I just feel like the whole breakup was this big childish thing, fuel for a melodramatic novel about the two of us standing five feet from each other behind the desk at Solaris, singing along to the same song in spite of the other. Even almost a year and a half after breaking up, he's still commenting on mutual friends' facebook statuses about how funny he is (literally "what a great comedian I am," wtf), right after I comment on it. it makes me laugh! and I'm just so glad to be over that inbred Midwestern, immature bullshit. I am thankful for the real love that we shared, but I'm done feeling sorry for myself and I'm way past feeling sorry for him. romanticizing that bullshit is over.

anyways! driving home tonight from Dustin's, the Smiths came on (melodramatic sadcore to the max) and I sang along the whole way home like an idiot, drumming on the steering wheel and everything. and I thought about all this, and how I don't want to go to Chicago on Sunday but I also don't want to stay here because I feel static. and Chicago makes me feel not static, my classes push me forward to internships and jobs and bars and relationships and becoming a real human being, not a child in the body of an almost 21-year-old. listening to sadcore music on 41 with the windows down is the only static I always enjoy, and it will probably always make me happy and will therefore get romanticized 9 ways to Sunday on here.

I'm going to paint my room when I get back, and find ways to keep moving forward.


Also, Blake: my blogger was somehow malfunctioning and didnt show your last post until just now. had I known you were feeling empty I would have brought you chai and told you all the reasons why you are my best friend in the world. I hope you are feeling less empty now <3 p="">

pan

for someone who has so intensely loved peter pan her entire life, i'm really surprised that it never occurred to me to read the original j.m. barrie novel until this summer. i knew that my favorite version of the film (with jeremy sumpter as peter) is heavily based on the original text, and have always loved "finding neverland," which delves into barrie's process while writing the original play & novel.

but i am amazed with how dark the novel is for a children's story, and how realistically the children are portrayed. it just fills me with such joy and fulfillment to open the book that i save it for the quiet moments before i sleep, and it has become a very special routine of this summer. i've always dreamed of having a neverland-themed wedding, and with chantel's wedding so close & being so involved in it, romance and weddings have been on my mind a lot lately.

i don't know what it is about peter pan, but it's one of those things that i love so much that it makes me cry if i think too long on it. kind of like leslie and ben, "romeo + juliet," and my interpretation of zelda and f. scott fitzgerald's relationship, it's just one of those things that i think will always make me feel a melancholy type of fulfillment.

sometimes i feel the same way about old happy memories of dylan and i, and when i get messages from my uncle bill or mamaw eileen at church, like when my mom tells me that the way my pinky fingers curve in when my hands are working comes from my dad's mom, who died right after i was born. something that feels right and sad and spiritual and meant to be all at once.