Just kidding, I just want to make things clear.
I'm not sad, depressed, over-worked, yah-dee-yah-dee-yah.
My blogging voice just sort of has an attitude and is filled with teen angst that wasn't fully utilized in highschool. I'm subjecting you poor few souls who visit me and Denver to these things because words are like wine and need to breathe before being enjoyed.
I don't know crap about wine.
And I appreciate the "Is everything okay?" emails and I love you all for it.
Now for more angst.
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I remember when I was numb.(see, angst.)
I remember when I was motivated.
I remember when I remembered something I forgot, then feeling bad for forgetting it.
I remember Emily and I playing faeries outside in the honeysuckle field. I don't remember what we talked about; what do eight-year-old faeries talk about while eating honeysuckles?
I remember when Charlie and I went to Conscious Land by hiding under a blanket, then lookinng at our reflections through windows.
I remember when I had OCD. When I was obsessive, compulsive, and disordered.
It sucked and it lingered till I was a teenager. Then I started caring too much about what people thought about me and stopped counting the threads on my sheets.
I remember the suicides, and how I found out over a text message.
I remember how the OCD threw up and stained my favorite dress with anxiety and stale beer.
Every time I look at her I'm subconsciously analyzing her to see if she's happy enough or do I need to go buy her a sandwich or something right now.
I remember the first time I did a bad thing. I hated it.
I remember when meatballs was an attempt at a bonding experience.
I told her "no" because that's gross and I don't eat red meat.
I forget so much. I forget that I was supposed to bring a library book back to school today.
I forget what 2010 looked like and I'll never remember because I ripped out all of the pages in my journal about it.
I forget that the Pythagorean Theorem is meant for math and not life.
I forget my best friends' birthdays.
I forget that I'm actually not from Paris.
Italy I guess. Maybe Whales.
But that's just from a piece of paper and I hear he lies about stuff like that sometimes to sound more impressive.
I forget to breathe. I forget what third grade was like. Actually, I don't remember third grade at all. I think that the teacher's name was Ms. Ross.
I forget why I liked Disney Channel so much.
I forget that I'm not really that good of a singer.
I forget that I actually do care about what people think even though I swear to the world that I don't.
I forget to listen and forget to nod my head and say "mmhmm".
I forget to stretch.
I forget words.
I forget names and I forget faces.
I forget that I'm always supposed to smile no matter what.
I forget that I have the ability to be brave.
I forget I may come off stubborn but it's mostly because I just care.
I could have been clingy. I could have been nicer. I could have been more chill.
But I know that the universe is not indifferent to my happiness. And if I stomp my feet and shout loud enough I'll get their attention and then scream. Because I can because I have the right to and because I may never get another chance.
Memories are fickle things that only hang around when they want to. If they get bored they'll ditch you like that boy at the school dance in 8th grade. Other times they'll stick around just like your love handles.
"Eternity is capable of being in love"
See you,
A&D
