fresh air

I wrote a poem the other day and never posted it, it was bullshit. Basically stereotypical modernist bull, and I couldn't really deal with it, so I may post it eventually, but for now it sits in my drafts and mocks me everytime I open blogspot. So do all of the notebooks sitting around my room half full, half empty, half laughing at me for not picking up a pen in about two months. I'm blind, I'm taking a full courseload, and I have some aspects of a social life. I also discovered game of thrones, so, well, priorities notebooks, priorities.

I love that I worry about my notebooks judging me, jesus,

I am thrilled to be going home now. I want to get back to my room and make it mine again, I have two weeks (hopefully) before I start work fulltime for me to find a second job (I'm hoping online, do you think Research Assistants will take me?) and to get back into the groove of staying up till three am in a silent house. Three am is a lonely time in a two-story suburb when everyone has school or work the next day... It's lonely the other days too, actually.

I did yoga today, and I think I need to just write it everywhere that it feels good to do. alone, in thoughts or not in thoughts, usually naked but sometimes I'll open the windows and freeze to death if taht happens so I wear a tshirt or something. I'm tired of scheduled readings, and coffee dates, I miss spontanuity. I miss calling my best friends and going to the vegan bar and drinking cider and eating delicious croutons then heading to marble slab half-drunk and bus home to the beds we didn't make that morning. Why is my life not a daytime radio sitcom? Because I don't have the time to write it.

I love stars. The band, and the actual physical things in the sky. Well, I suppose they're physical, as physical as something no one will ever touch/live to touch/and only see can be. I want to just curl up and eat ice cream and watch game of thrones all night, not study. Studying's for chumps! I wish any of the studying I ever did paid off ever, I wish I was good at testing. I wish the things I knew most about and was best at could be tested... Well, they can be tested, just not in this program, in this institution, by any of these people.

Seriously debating Sudbury for finishing programs after I'm done my undergrad, that or London. I wanted to do Quebec but it's just not turning out that way. I had this wonderful picture of me in a fabulous french city drinking white wine on a dusky spring evening, reading a newspaper or something. But that's so silly, I don't have eyes for that.

So anyways, I suppose I should finish my show and get back to studying. I edited my last paper this afternoon and going to edit it once more sunday on a study break before it is to be handed in on monday, and then my final exam is monday afternoon, and then I am spending the evening packing and probably finishing my whiskey alone, and dancing. There is always dancing. And friends the tv show, I torture myself when there is ever endings and always watch the last season the last night of my living anywhere. what is wrong with me?

So much.

i had to say goodbye to becca today, and it hurt my everything to think about it for weeks and now it is over, and it isn't a loss or a goodbye or anything, it's just the same as it always has been, since the beginning of first year from my family from my boyfriend, to residence to my friends, to the end of summer to a boyfriend again and back to leading into summer from good friends:

I'll be seeing you, in all the old familiar places.

Sing it, Billie, I need you.