Now that i’m wandering around a full campus again i have so many little stories to share… strange things i see, observations, things i overhear … and, of course, it overlaps with having the least possible time to blog. Stupid life.
by krisis
thoughts
I don’t ever know what to write here anymore… maybe because my days have become so familiar, or maybe because i’m okay with them. I guess i can’t always be interesting and happy….
There are only a handful of board games that i’ve ever played with more than two players. In fact, of all the games that one might find in your neighborhood toy store, there are a relative few that i played before the age of 18. My mother could only be coaxed into a one on one deathmatch of Monopoly every so often, after all, and there were only so many games a boy could have with only his mother and his GI Joes to play them with.
I don’t know how i feel about other people. I spent so long only having to worry about making myself happy that i am equally torn between continuing the behavior or trying to do the same for everyone else i know. I never learned how to make some of the people happy some of the time, or to be happy with some of the people some of the time. So, now that i have people in my life, people that i see every day when i get to work or every night before bed, i have trouble deciding who comes first: me or them.
Obviously it’s not as black and white as that, and if we were to all follow the golden rule it wouldn’t matter anyway, right? Still, there are some weeks in which i will bend myself in any direction to please someone else, and days like today where i’d rather sleep than talk to anyone in a mile radius.
I’m just not very tired.
September and I have never really been entirely comfortable with each other, with its end of summer, start of school, and an inevitable new birthday on which i am expected to celebrate but typically just ponder. Even worse, for the last three years i have left a home every September: in 1998 from my childhood home to my mother’s current house, in 1999 from that house to the dormitories at Drexel, in 2000 from the dormitories to my first apartment, and last year from that apartment to the one i currently share with Erika, Lindsay, Kate, and Karen. September brings in change and the beginnings of golden leaves and cooler weather, and when it is over i hardly ever know what to make of it.
And, now, in my twenty-first go through the month, somehow it has contrived to change itself. Summer never really existed for me, so it cannot end. School has ceased to be a surprise. My birthday looks as though it might be the first time i celebrate the entire day with people who i’d actually choose to spend it with. And, i am staying in the same room of our apartment for another year.
I feel as though i can dig deeper or say more, but it just comes down to this: Change happens, and sometimes changing is just staying the same. I’m just not sure how i feel about it.
Sometimes that early-morning dew that leaves my room smooth and cool to the touch is really just grease, with the grit and asphalt of the city as its pan, and five hours later we are roasting and still sticking to everything.
The woodchuck on the label of my cider looks quite silly holding a raspberry up to his nose, and i opted for a cup and straw instead, which – i think – makes this day inconceivably more lazy than it was beforehand.