Close your eyes

Imagine for a second:

It's a summer evening. You find yourself in a forest clearing. The air is still, warm, and heavy with humidity. Thick clouds cover the sky, and if you stand still enough, you might notice a raindrop on your face.

Close your eyes. The last hint of sunset has disappeared from the sky. It's dark in the shadow of the trees, but here there will be enough light to see for a while longer.

You step into the wet grass, and it sticks to your feet. You reach for a green leaf laden with water droplets that roll down onto your hand when you touch it.

You breathe in the smell of the rain, listen to the rhythm it makes on the leaves. No other sound interrupts it. The world is quiet.

Now stay there. Drink rainwater from your cupped hands; sleep in the grass until the sun rises. Don't open your eyes again, because when you do, you'll remember that reality is never so peaceful.

Part 2

I am awake

Written 2/23

I don't want to get up tomorrow. A new day is a fearsome thing, too long and too uncertain. So I will stay stubbornly open-eyed in the dark, refusing sleep and refusing to admit that today is over. The clock on my nightstand blinks neon green and assures me that the future is approaching. I cannot fight that. But while I watch the hours creep closer to dawn, at least I can pretend.

Maybe I've solved why I like night hours so much.

A conclusion, but not really

Is it appropriate to conduct an experiment and present your conclusions in metaphor?

Written 5/7/20

Some songs.

○ Something New - girl in red
○ Never Quite Free - The Mountain Goats
○ Good News (Ya Ya Song) - MUNA
○ Not the Same - Malinda
○ Bless the Child - Nightwish
○ Cheap Queen - King Princess
○ Borne on the FM Waves of the Heart - Against Me!
○ Caution - The Killers

Pick a song and tell me what you think.

Wordless

Written 3/17

I am tired of being talked over.

I'm a person, and as such I have a right to express myself. I have as many thoughts and feelings as you do. I recite them in my head, prune and perfect, until I have something to say. It's an important something. I raise it to my lips and wait for the moment to send it into being.

But my moment never arrives. There is no half-second of silence for me to speak in. I am too polite to cut someone off, because what if they spent the time I did creating what they had to say, and I interrupt them saying it? My words wait. They try to hide their disappointment.

Sometimes someone notices and saves me. I am grateful for those times.

But on the other hand, I want to speak without feeling like the whole world hinges on what I have to say. I don't like the stares and focus and silence after I've finally managed to get everyone else to shut up. I search for what I had to say, and the perfection slips through my fingers. What makes it into the world is a slim shadow of my ideas. I had my chance, and then it ended, and I am left wordless.

Pioneer Nights

Written 3/31/20

It's two a.m., and I can't sleep, so I'm going to talk about Welcome To Night Vale. I want to share some quotes from episode 143, Pioneer Days, which I listened to on Sunday.

"Habits are comforting; rituals are important. It’s what keeps us grounded. It’s what prevents us from shouting uncontrollably and clutching at our eyes."

And later in the episode, "But now that I think of it, we do spend a lot of our days distracting ourselves from physical reality. Maybe we really can use this time to experience life more solidly in the physical world, the way our ancestors did. Who needs modern conveniences when we have each other, right? Hold your loved ones close tonight. After all, you have nothing better to do."

I paused the episode before the end credits and proverb because there was a good bit to think about. Pioneer Days is one of my favorite episodes now, up there with Old Oak Doors, Toast, and Brought to You By Kellogg's.

Taken on their own, the lines I shared could offer some inspiration for the situation we face right now. In context, they're about an arbitrary holiday on which every citizen is forcefully immersed into pioneer life by having all of their utilities shut off. I think this episode can be fully enjoyed even if you haven't heard all the preceding episodes. I encourage you to listen to it, partly for the plot and partly for the odd nuggets of wisdom.

I Need A Minute

Written 2/8/20

Sometimes I listen to songs. Sometimes, instead, the music ensnares me until I memorize the feeling it leaves in my chest and the guitar sound and the lyrics. Sometimes when I take out one earbud, it leaves a song-shaped hole in me.

For some reason, I decided to listen to old favorite songs today. I played my favorites from when I thought everything besides Imagine Dragons was trash music (with a few exceptions), from before I discovered My Chemical Romance and my life was changed forever. As cliché as that might be, I'm not exaggerating.

Today, the song that leaves a hole in me is I Need A Minute by Imagine Dragons. I loved this song in middle school because it sounds cool. I managed to learn every word without understanding what the song meant.

Now that I understand the meaning, this song has landed right back in my list of favorites. It's a song about facing adulthood and not knowing what to do with yourself. "All the glasses in the world say come with me" because you don't know which version of yourself you want to become. It's a song about being young and needing to both change and not change at the same time.

Change is a weird thing. It's big and murky and looming, more like walking into a fog than stopping at a crossroads. I'm close enough to it now to see and anticipate it, but not close enough to step into the fog yet. I'd rather look back instead of ahead and let it take me by surprise, because that's how I am.

My expanding music taste was a good change, of course. Sometimes I wonder if the girl I used to be would recognize me as I am now.

I want to write a satisfying, determined ending to this, but I don't want to make promises while I'm still uncertain. I am here, but I am still thinking.