bodily interruptions, passionately pensive
Living with 80 people for two weeks is a special kind of hell for introverts: loud voices singing Rebecca Black’s “Friday” every morning in the echoing dorm hallways, buffet food lines that beg for you to over eat, cranky mid-afternoon coffee runs, and late night attempts to save the world through conversation and milkshakes.
I am lying in bed with a book, snuggled in to a oversized sweatshirt, enjoying a rare night of having the house to myself, when I realize that my toes need popping.
Escape Velocity, Part III, Word Shepherd
A few weeks ago my younger brother slept on my couch, a pit stop on his way east for college orientation. He has worked harder and longer than I had to for a chance at the kind of life he wants, and I love watching him break free of the black hole circumstance had dropped him in. I recognize the way he holds his mouth, savoring the tantalizing flavor of hope, corners upturned, remembering how to smile.
fear itself, i write to be rid of things
It was chilly and raining some, the bleak type of fall weather. I was only about 30 minutes into a four or five-hour road trip. I was alone.
hypothetically speaking, nightsbrightdays
Independence is a topic that’s been on my mind frequently in recent months. Two months from now I’m leaving the place I’ve made my home for the past seven years for a big city that I know from a tourist/visitor’s perspective, but have no idea how to live and get around in. My pool of friends and acquaintances is about to shrink like a puddle in July heat.
Independence, The Rebel I
When most people think of independence, they think of one of two things. They think of fireworks, of hotdogs, of flag-waving, rosy-cheeked children, and of George Washington ridding us of the red coattails of tyranny. Or they think, ironically, of themselves, living and thriving alone and ‘not needing’ anyone else. For the longest time I looked at myself when I thought of independence.
I am apart from you. I am part of you. I am a part of you.
a thing is itself, plow and rain
My first thought about the concept of ‘independence’ is that it is a very limited idea. A person, place, or thing can be independent to a certain degree, but I would argue that this is a superficial, or even artificial, classification. Consider these examples: the USA, a person, and a flower.
Truly Local, Karma’s Fool
Five years ago I set out from the only home I’d ever known (college dorms/apartments don’t count) to make my way to North Carolina. I spent all summer readying myself for that move, in addition to sleeping and playing WoW. As I was winnowing down my remaining possessions to a small stack of boxes and clothes, I worried about all the things that would confront me in my new environment: getting and furnishing a new place, making friends, and other general grad school apprehensions.