It was weird to be back. Whilst there, one of my old mentors made me realize why I've been not feeling Swat as much as it was assumed I would, simply by asking me if I was taking any English classes. Bam instant clickage, nope. A wise decision to get the necessary things out of the way, yes, but my soul aches for a class that let's me discuss metaphorical meaning behind the simple act of a woman leaving the threshold of her home and simultaneously berating all who attempt to find depth hidden behind every preposition.
Yechen's playing rockband with Jenna right now and it's rather epic.
I played for a song, decided that I would like to start a rockband, stopped playing so that I could plan it out, and then instantly lost the rock band desire. Holding a toy guitar must instill something in me. Magic.
Anyways, break is nice. I spent the first two days of it thinking about not thinking about all the things I don't feel like thinking about but can't seem to help thinking about, but I awoke this morning in the Purple Room to thoughts of bacon--crisp--and pancakes--fluffy. Thinking about eyes opening in the morning.
That's something everyone should think about at least once. Eyes opening in the morning. When you're still in the midst of the dreamscape it's like the world is a black and white graphite sketch that slowly saturates with the morning glow of sunrise as reality asserts itself. But in that graphite moment the sound of your alarm clock exists in the same world as your ability to fly. If only it were all the time.
Indulged and bought yet another journal at barnes and noble yesterday, bringing the newest tally to twelve. Ten of which have mere thoughts and suggestions scribed down between taking notes in class and having boring conversations, one moleskine that's blank, and a large sketchbook that contains most of my mind from senior year, playlists for on human potential, and a spiderweb diagram of life that i've only recently begun to add more to.
Yechen and Jenna are basically family. My Asian and Half Asian brother and sister. This house with its color coded rooms, cat named Stella, and bouquets of Mums is a third home and will hopefully remain so as long as it's here.
I'm making the conscious effort to keep some of the past as my present and it's working quite well. Some of the past is much too important to leave behind.
In other news, am making a movie.
I don't know of what
Or when
Or how
With who
I only know the why. I went back to Peddie on Friday and walked the halls of Swig only to be greeted with a profound sense of being home.
I miss making things. Putting something back into the world besides recycled ideas from textbooks.
I don't know of what
Or when
Or how
With who
I only know the why. I went back to Peddie on Friday and walked the halls of Swig only to be greeted with a profound sense of being home.
I miss making things. Putting something back into the world besides recycled ideas from textbooks.
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