Sunday, February 05, 2006
For a while, i was losing interest in writing...well maybe not in writing, but in the process of it i guess. the fluidity of thought. I used to be so visceral with my writing, and then it became dry--or that is maybe my life? I used to get all of these philosophical thoughts through out the day...and then they stopped; and that's when one stops pondering the "why" of life and gets wrapped up in the "because". But they are coming back, and i think i'm coming back to a place where i can write about the internal, rather than simply the external.mhhmm
Where rambling is perfectly viable.
So i saw the guy who was in my life my freshman year. It's been almost a year since seeing him. And it was interesting seeing him through the prism of an outsider. My friend had picked me up and we were driving to Emory Village, driving past the fraternity houses. And naturally, his fraternity had something going on already...at 5pm. People were sitting on the front porch, playing on the lawn, etc. Among those people was he; Yet, he oddly stood out. Sitting on the edge of the porch, looking downward, he looked slightly forlorn and bored. Wanting to be a part of the festivities, yet at the same time wishing he were else where. Grateful for the acceptance, yet understanding that the communality fell short of fulfilling his needs. It was a momentary glimpse, and then we drove further away. It was strange to see someone after a year and externally nothing had changed, but internally it was all so different.
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As much as i like my suite mate, it seems like she has the Indian Club going on in her room nightly. They are just so loud sometimes, it wakes me up--and i know this is college, etc., but i have 8:30 classes, and i just wish she were more sensitive to that.
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I hope it snows tomorrow.
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Life is too short to waste time being mad, upset, arguing. To put that away, and just focus on listening and loving. To forgive easily, and move on quickly. I remember the time when my aunt called once, and my mom asked if i wanted to talk to her, and i told her no because i just wasn't "in the mood". I wish i could've had that one last talk.
Emory's Cable has the Russian TV channel; when i watch it brings back memories and makes me wish i were in Russia. I am transported to my grandmother's living room, with me sitting on her couch, watching a Russian soap opera. I wish I could see her more often, or talk to her more. I hope God gives her more time.
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Tomorrow starts a whole new week...10:51 PM 3 Falling Stars
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