letters never sent

... I have tried to read Letters Never Sent by Ruth Van Reken, am still in the process of it. ... and I can't bear it. I'm literally scared of what that book will show me. Scared of it in a way I've never been scared of or hurt by a book before. I'm don't want to open it. ...but then I do. Healing? Hurtful? I don't know yet...
E.O.

for all papers...

all papers ever written, anytime, anywhere, for all students who were ever frustrated in the process:

AAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Why.

grrr.

and that, friends, is my story.
I have been squeezing my synapses, trying to make them drip ideas out onto the screen... with little luck.

Now my eyes are falling shut of their own volition, my cognitive functions are going down the tubes, and i know that anything i write now will be scheisse.
But i must soldier on.
One more scream, for the road...

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!

secret... shh

i need somewhere to write something secret.
this is not it.
so i won't write it here.
ta-ta, blog-o-sphere (always thought that was such a weird word)
over 'n out.
E.O.

oh, and p.s.: I AM NOT A WRITER!!! World, Life, STOP TELLING ME I'M A WRITER. I am most assuredly NOT. So either give me something dire to say or stop being so verflucht PUSHY.

body's in rebellion

my brain is about to do that thing where it tells me, it doesn't care how much work i have left to do, or how behind i am, or how little time i will have tomorrow- it's shutting down for all tasks requiring minimal concentration; after all, my nose is running and hopping (aka, oozing and sneezing) away- why not just turn it into an elopment?

but i have to review my psych notes from friday, finish the translation for old english, and (hopefully) start on some paper ideas for romanticism (or at least re-read the passage that I'm gonna write about). then shower. then bed.
my brain is not allowed to shut down until the shower part. you got that, left brain? right brain, how about you? yes? yes? good. now.
have at you, schoolwork!

why is writing this post easier to do than getting on with my translation already?
sigh. (re-rout to the enthusiasm of that last exclamation point and continue.)
Wish me luck!
over 'n out.
E.O.

p.s.: ...it didn't work. in the end, my brain and I had to reach a compromise: it would finish OE and most of psych if I got it in bed by 11 o'clock. :P

Share the love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control...

alternate title: The Wedding.

This weekend, my dearly beloved friend and mentor, A-P, got married. This weekend has been so much. A reunion with loved ones (mk's, you know who you are); a hundred thousand new people to meet; a big crowd event where i could feel small and out of place but like i belonged too (which was weirdly comforting and familiar, i haven't had that feeling in a very long time); a renewal of and challenge to faith, virtue and love; a finding out that I CAN meet new people and talk to them quite happily (not so abysmally shy as i once was); an exuberantly joyous occasion; a time to dress up, wear earrings and make-up, a dress and fancy shoes...
It's funny about weddings. The actual marrying part of it gets kind of lost in the scads and scores of things that have to be done to get it to happen. Yes, it was a weekend about these two dear people vowing in front of a whole church of witnesses to love and honor one another for the rest of their days. But there is so much STUFF involved in making those public vows possible. It's kind of mind-boggling.
That said, what I would like to do this blog post is apologize. I have a tendency to be... well, very negative. Skeptical, melancholy, even brooding at times. This weekend I have been very encouraged and challenged by those around me. My friend of years past, and a new friend I only met the day before yesterday both have such joy and compassion and faith and love... they truly show the fruits of the spirit, and it was beautiful to see.
Sigh. In case you can't tell, my mind is still whirling from the whole experience.
but in a good way.
I'll have to finish thinking about this, and then edit this post later. =)
~ E.O.

Handstand

As I sit in the laundry room, my clean clothes piled & folded next to me, listening to poetic music, time and wind swish past me, outside these walls.
My life is pretty solid right now... but with the solidity of a person doing a hand stand- their balance is good for the moment, and they can move about, but the moment something shifts they perceive the tenuousness of their situation (legs in the air, the mind making them reach for the heights up in the air, while gravity asks that they kindly return to their accustomed position).
Is this how life always feels?
One more thing I will say, namely that this tenuously solid position is teaching me a lot of things- about me, about the world, about people.
sigh. I leave you with a picture (not me or anyone I know, fyi):

I have an issue with that song about Hailey's Comet that's been on the radio forever and a day (aka, all summer).
The line "sometimes goodbye is a second chance" has been running around my head. While I understand that the phrase includes the word "sometimes" and that he is referring to a particular circumstance, I wish to say this:
Goodbye is not a second chance. Goodbye is a terribly wrenching rent in the fabric of your existence. And no matter how much time passes, no matter how well you think you've rewoven... you're never quite fixed.