new anthems to breathe,
��������� �����routines change.the earth feels finally slipped onto a new axis. tonight i am listening to matt nathanson, "amazing again" and humming along.
[so maybe you could come and comfort me / and all the one-hipped full-lipped lovers, they're locked against one another / and i waver / i'm comfortable in my skin]
that lyric ... is perfect.
people are drifting in and out of my life lately. i returned to the quad today with a sort of trepidation - "returned" meaning visited. had a reason to. casey was going on a date with dave - nate's high school friend - and erin was tidying up. jill and rachel were out, and amy was working. the windows were wide and there was an odd feeling of reclamation. it's a night for open windows, stars, a bit of wind, and lampposts. and acoustic guitar.
[i am / held together by clothespins and tension / a wealth of odds and ends]
i feel like this is a hiccup. starting over by recycling the past in a reminiscence-made-flesh. springtimes past rejuvenated in a synchronous moment. sitting out on the lawn with sarah mawn (i rhymed) and tyler and casey. braden brought us crumb cake. the wind was strong, and it was slightly chilly. but i wore a black t-shirt that i love - a simple black XS old navy t-shirt with a pocket - and the sun soaked it greedily. even later. a sort of strange completion, knowing school ends in less than a week now, and i'll be here on campus all summer. need to find a summer job, now. tomorrow no time. friday is the day. during the day, maybe.
a parabola. everything tilts back to the wayitwas. mark seems to be content with kristin's room and that group for now. jason seems to be in the same position, despite newer positions and resolutions, it feels like maybe i never met anyone new from last spring. like all of that was simply a random delusion. this room could be 249, i could be in the same place i was. staring. shaky. divisive.
but i'm not, and things have rotated, i am growing older, and things sometimes drift. tectonically. maybe that's how it should be? only tertiary friendships, more grow, but you have to give it time? some random aphorism to make the grass grow. [i'm comfortable in my skin] or not. where did i take a wrong turn, and how did i suddenly now end up on the right path?
"i'm thirsty as hell," i said randomly.
"there's a coke on my desk," erin said, proffering. and as i took it in, sitting in casey's chair, erin in bed, the rotating fan ... rotating, it felt ... normal. casey talking about her date, erin giving advice, the best-friend, the protagonist, the male best friend who once-had-a-crush but now is a loyal friend no-matter-what ... the dynamic, complete. a workable, happy situation. normality, and the night outside coalescing on each treebranch like a hundred dark cats, tails all idly curling around the wind that passed by.
an inner smile. that threatens to break through [maybe i don't need saving after all] - convinced of some basic faith in myself. mildly worried about the fall. and a new living situation. but i can cope on my own, because i have that basic knowledge now.
sad. how when the obsession is waned, i am further from the person who i am emulating. i like mark. he's a good friend. he's also a very physically aesthetic person. which is a fancy way of saying a) i like him or b) i'm envious - and it's more b than a, right now, which is always the happy side of things.
i'm going to go read some shakespeare for a class now. actually doing homework in this environment. a clear head.