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When i met you, i stopped writing. i also stopped waking up to a face full of post it notes saying things like its bad luck to see the woman before the driving test, or my house smells like apple cider and bluebottles have eyes, or i've got static in my arms. i stopped feeling sorry and i stopped falling down the stairs. i noticed the stars at night could have a story and you could have taken the ocean and put it in your eyes. i also stopped writing. when i met you, i stopped trying to be a nice person and just was. when i met you, i discovered post it notes and then i couldn't use them. i realised my house was not just a picture of a house and that your silence is so loud and my loud is so quiet. when i met you, i stopped writing and i cut star shapes into my blanket because i couldn't reach the sky, even with a ladder. when i met you, i traced the map of your bones and filled my hands with yours because i stopped writing. i also stopped walking backwards because i noticed that i could miss the view, and the view was mostly beautiful, and the view was mostly you. i also noticed that some people are like trees and the forest on your face and the paths in your mind are endless, but i have them memorized. the way you are thinking the same thing as me, but ask me what i'm thinking anyway, i noticed. i noticed that your silence means something. when i met you, i stopped writing and i listened. once i started writing again, i became a seedpod with no purpose but to write to you, are arrivals and i am departures and how it was windy that day and our eyes might have met and we might have smiled. i wrote to you that words are never enough and i sighed and i stopped writing. i made a tower of cards and the wind knocked them over and i walked home in the rain because i think i fell in love with that again. when i met you, i saw your eyes and i stopped writing. when i met you, i learned to read the creases in my hand and i stopped writing. when i met you, i did not float in the tub, i did not run to catch the last plane leaving. when i met you, i stopped writing. then i went to your house and i wrote and i wrote and i wrote. when i met you, i stopped writing and then i couldn't stop writing. when i met you, i couldn't stop writing and then i stopped writing. when i met you, words weren't enough anymore and i stopped writing. then i wrote and i wrote and i wrote.

Freedom

So I got in my first car accident this week. I'm totally fine, and Delilah only has a broken turn-signal light on her front left side, but I guess it counts as an accident. Ironically, I wrote the following prose two days before my accident. Life's funny like that, right?

Freedom

I am lumbering forward, onto worn asphalt that is a rural quilt of patches and scrapes. Steam is rising from the ancient road, recovering from an early-summer deluge that preceded my ride by a few hours. I am passing through familiar, bucolic countryside that has since prepared for its nightly slumber. I show no regard to my inky still surroundings, and I disrupt the black night with the two beams of light emanating from the front of my ride. With the windows down, loud and fast music wafts into the night. I know I'm instigating an awakening--albeit a brief one, yet I show no regret, or cause for concern. I am preoccupied with my own dissatisfaction. With a cigarette in my left hand, and my fell phone in my right, I manage to fumble the wheel in the right general direction, using my knees, and the car's intuition to do the rest. No, this is not safe. But that's never been my biggest priority. At this moment, I am deep in thought.

Some people have their designated nook or cranny in the world, where they can go and allow their mind to diffuse, or mull over something. My place just happens to be on wheels. It acts as a place for travel, for recreation, for 'business meetings', and as an occasional cure for boredom.

At this point in time, it is helping me to solve my most recent self-inflicted problem, loneliness. For some reason, I've been stricken by a dampening mood, and no desire to see anyone. Paradoxically, I am sad because of my solidarity. You could call this self-induced discontentment. I would prefer to call it PMS.

I go through the mental motions of restless, nostalgic, self-doubting, and plain gloomy. I feel the best solution would be to drive, with no destination. I have an immediate desire to get lost. Maybe the land of the unfamiliar will cure me of my current funk. Or maybe it will scare me out of my adolescent ho-hummings, and make me thankful to get back to familiar terrirory; counting my blessings as I safely close my front door behind me at the end of my adventure. At this point, either outcome is possible. I'm not planning the now that's unfurling itself before my four wheels. Rather, I'm just auto-piloting through silent territories of countryside, pioneering a trail to my own mind's content. 

Stories, Shotgun

So I have this new summer project. It's more of an intellectual challenge,  but I'm stubborn enough to try it. I've decided this summer I'm keeping a list, "the compendium", of all things that happen to me this summer that make for a good story. I will, every so often, look at the memories from the list, and reflect upon one like a narrative. These things are stories of funny/bizarre things that happen to me, shitty things, and great days. I'm calling it Stories from Summer (a working title). It will be something to look forward to in the future. I have a few of the stories written, theyre fun. This project was inspired by a book I'm reading called 'I Was Told There'd Be Cake' by Sloane Crosley. It's kind of a girl-version of Tucker Max (much less vulgar), and is reminiscent of the writer's voice and setting of a young Carrie Bradshaw. DEFINITELY read this book if you come across it, its hilarious. 

Also, I'm considering starting another smaller project that documents all the people who have/will ride shotgun in my car this summer. It would be aptly called "Shotgun Summer 09" and I'm thinking of having a log or some kind of documenting of who rides as my co-pilot. I just think at the end of the summer it would be cool to see how  many people I've chilled with in my car, and the variety of people as well. It would also be neat to see who do I actually drive around the most? Who's the most random person, things like that. I thought it would be cool to have a disposable cam over on that side of the car, for entertainment purposes,  but I'll probably nix that idea. Flahsbulbs at night in cars don't make for flattering photos. 

wonderings on the wind down.

"OH instincts are misleading

You shouldn't think what you're feeling

They don't tell you what you know you should want. " -death cab.

Maybe there is a second first time for everything. 

I've been adapting to summer mode for a little over a week now. It's much better than I anticipated. I'm surprisingly charmed with being back in Doylestown, and it seems I'd forgotten a few of my favorite things while away at college; these things include playing/making music (I wiped a thick layer of dust off of my violin upon returning home), driving (delilah is happy to have me back), the gazebo, blasting shitty pop punk music and driving through the countryside, and alone time. I feel like there's a serious loss of alone time at school, but I'm back to only child mode, and I can do pretty well by myself for extended periods of time. It's refreshing. I never realized how much I missed these things. 

     So, what the hell am I doing with my time? This week, I slept until at least 1pm every day. sweeeeet. i've been catching up with some friends, and cruising around with them. Also, I've been cleaning and rearranging the room, unpacking the life I brought home in assorted duffle bags from 80 Boylston, Boston, Ma. Aside from that I've been having some fun, smoking too much, and job searching. Today was my first day at Gerenser's Ice Cream in New Hope. After the first day I can tell it's gonna be a long summer. But a fun summer. It's a cool job, without much responsibility, and all the free ice cream I can manage to eat. It is what it is. And it's a job. Thank goodness. 

        Yesterday was my first day upon returning home to escape suburbia. I took an impromtu trip up to NYC to visit the darling Christopher Hutton (working stiff extrordinaire), and I also got to spend time with Amelia & Michaela (and some guest star friends), who managed to meet me in beautiful May-smitten Manhattan. As soon as I reached street level after exiting Penn Station, I saw three homeless people and countless cigarette smokers. I kind of miss the rough edges of city living. Alas, I'm adapting to slower paces for the time being. I'm predicting in a month's time I'll be in full-on summer mode. This means bronze hippie-ness, curly hair, and more of an interest in...interests, doing stuff I want to do because I like it, not because I'm required to. ex: Reading Voltaire, painting my room, writing a lot.

I hope when you read this you think about your summer self. It's always different than the normal, structured self of the school year. This is the off season. What freedoms do you adapt to? What activities have you started again, that maybe you forgot about?

PS. This happened to me yesterday. It made my day. 

http://www.iwon25bucks.com/

(This big prize patrol interviews you on the street and gives you 25 bucks, just for being you. Cool, thanks!!)

Earth. And Babies. (Earthbabies?)

Life is good. 

It would be better if I didn't have such a procrastination issue.

It's 3:07 am. (Hence the procrastination issue.)

Today is a special day because....

-It is Earth Day.

-It is my brother's 1st birthday (aside from his actual day of birth, I mean.)

-My grandparents have been married for 52 years.

-Lily Borghi comes home from the castle today.

-Lowe's Theater is screening Disney's Earth all day.

In the horizon...

-My first Red Sox game on Sunday night.

-I turn 19 in exactly 2 weeks. 

-I officially survive my first year of college in 2 weeks+1 day.

Things to think about....

-I NEED A JOB. 

-Should I take summer classes this summer at home or next summer at school?

-Should I continue with my self-imposed tradition of getting a piercing on my birthday?

-Or should I just go big and get a tattoo?

Alas, there are more important things to think about. Like passing all of my classes. And pondering how to end world hunger. And how to make people happy when they just want to be sad all the time. 

I will leave you with these....

I cannot believe this was one year ago today. 

Infants & Sunsets. 

Two of the most beautiful things on earth.

SOMETIMES WE FORGET.

(This is a rant with activist undertones. Prepare accordingly.)

Dark room, blinds drawn.

Privleged youth forced to confront face-to -face the excesses that we take for granted.

I sit amongst my peers in a class about international news. For whatever reason, we are watching a documentary about Zambia. 

Granted, American teenagers aren't heavily exposed to the lifestyles of third-world Africans, but I continue to remain shocked at what I learned.

       On the screen before me, I see kids my age working laboriously; carrying enormous bales of second-hand clothing on their backs, with hopes of selling them at open-air markets around the countryside. One man shares his dream to build a tin roof on his family's house with the prophets he gains. The ram-shackle compound, that he is planning on renovating houses himself, and seven other family members.  The video later informs viewers that the roof this boy is working to fund will cost approximately $100. In order for the young laborer to earn this sum, he will have to sell second-hand clothes every month for an entire year, without spending a cent for himself.

      I continue to watch this film, but now chose to observe the reactions of my classmates. The majority remain rather unfazed. Some watch with intrigue and mild interest, others find this as an opportunity to catch up on some recreational shut eye. One girl in front of me has chosen to completely disregard the content of the film, instead spending her time on a relaxing game of Solitaire on her iPhone. 

     Despite my best interest, I feel my amateur political-activist fervor spark up, thus providing me with the motivation to write this rant. (Bare with me?)

Sometimes we forget how lucky we are.

As privileged youth enrolled in higher educational institutions, the most we will probably ever be exposed to an impoverished lifestyle (like that of 3rd world Africa, or otherwise), may be the eye opening documentaries we are exposed to one class, or another. 

         These images will upset us. We may feel guilty. People comfortable within the loving arms of mother America may scoff these off, or resent forced exposure to lifestyles such as these. & thus, they may react negatively. 

Why?? Because what we don't know won't hurt us? Because ignorance is bliss? We dislike having to be exposed to such lifestyles of misfortune and misery because they will make us feel guilty? God forbid we toss some empathy their way.

Upon the start of this documentary, my mind is packed to maximum capacity with mental to-do lists, obligations, and virtual post-its, full of reminders that I hold to heavy importance. My biggest problem, at this moment, is that I am currently without a cell phone, and have been for a few days. I am stressed out thinking of how I'll have to replace all the numbers in my contact list, and I continue the mental debate I've been having about whether or not I should just screw my plan all together, and upgrade to a Blackberry. Granted, it would be a little pricy (with all said and done, it would cost me $179 after a rebate). But, I try rationalizing it to myself by saying that I have wanted one for a while, and lots of my friends have this phone. (Bandwagon tendency? I digress...) I also concluded that if I lobbied hard enough to my family, I could probably persuade them to chip in for a portion of the cost.

          This was the immediate problem that was occupying my mind when I sat down to watch the documentary. And to be perfectly honest, I initially resented the distraction of what seemed like a superfluous film.

Sometimes we forget how lucky we are.

While I continue to call our good fortune 'luck', I personally prefer to look at them a series of blessings. I take a moment of self-reflection after remembering this. I think of materialism & how I've fallen guilty to indulgence. My biggest problem at the moment is whether or not I can dish our $179 on a cell phone when my universal contemporaries are halfway around the world laboring for what would be roughly two years to acquire close to that sum of money. These people had never seen cell phones, and remained amused by picking through new bundles of clothing imported from the first world. Clothes that  could have sat in my closet making a habit of their misuse, until I found time (in my busy, youthful existence), to toss them in a trash bag on the front step. For charitable purposes, only. 

        I kind of took this experience as a wake up call. So thanks God. For putting things into perspective for me, and helping me to acknowledge the blessings that I have received. I'm taking images from this film & tucking them in the back of my mind, for whenever I may be feeling self-indulgent., 

    

Happiness is a state of mind.

Humans have the amazing and innate ability to make their own happiness--regardless of physical location. I can achieve it without the aid of a new Blackberry. I can distinguish it without looking through a new pair of RayBans. & I can take it with me without carrying it in the $100 tote bag I've had my eye on for Summer. 

      With that being said, I'm not implying that I, or anyone reading this, should play the role of a sacrificing martyr, to compensate for those my age who do without. I'm just promoting awareness. 

Open your eyes!

Expose yourself to those who do without. Yes, it will hurt & you might feel guilt. But don't wallow in pity or remorse. Rather, acknowledge your blessings & use them to the best of your abilities. & maybe, if it upsets you that much, do something about it.

   

    

(I have more than 3.75 frequent readers. Elise Comber and Amelia Viner are loyal readers. They are also very pretty and smart. Thanks for reading =) )

A Double-Shot of Zen

I recently got this advice from a friend/acquaintance. It's been helping me out the past few days. Figured I'd share with my 3.75 loyal readers. This includes Mark McCune, Jake Sorgen, and Mary Pat Rourke (hi mom...) Enjoy....

Wisdom of the 14th Dalai Lama,

Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible.

Open your arms to change, but don't let go of your values.

Sleep is the best meditation.

Spend some time alone every day.

W can never obtain peace in the outer world until we make peace with ourselves. 

Remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a wonderful stroke of luck.

We can live without religion and meditation, but we cannot survive without human affection.

Happiness is not something ready made. It comes from your own actions.

If you can, help others; if you cannot do that, at least do not harm them.

The ultimate authority must always rest with the individual's own reason and critical analysis.

 

The Esplanade/Charles River, Boston, Mass. March 2009.