Time is wierd. It's wierd how your very identity changes - how you get used to stuff, and it just IS, and then at another point, later, it just ISN'T. Like how it will be fall, and then all of a sudden it will be winter, and you're not sure when or how it happenned. And how no matter how hard you try to hold on to something - the silence when you lie awake in bed at night, or the way your skin feels on a summer day, or having someone's tounge in your mouth - it ALWAYS goes away. One hundred percent guaranteed. And sometimes you can recreate the feeling in your head, but you can never make it REAL again. No matter how hard you try. "Real" is a wierd concept. Right now, it is 7:11. Someone in another apartment is playing a fast, electronic riff on the guitar. Now the music has stopped, and it is very quiet. It is 7:13. I feel comforable. I have decided to pretend that it's spring and I am dressed accordingly. I am recreating "spring" in my head, and it almost seems real, but it isn't. I can still feel winter somewhere around.
Spring remings me of Ivy's play, which in turn reminds me of the flirting-with-Adam period. I was not exactly happy then, but I was the opposite of how I am when I am depressed. Life was very interesting, and it had a clearly defined purpose. Life isn't like that now, but I am getting a sense of that feeling. It's almost as if that period in my life had a smell, and I am smelling it again, a little. You can't describe smells. They just are what they are. That's what the "spring of freshman year" feeling is like.
Sometimes, I do a pretty good job of capturing moments in time and kind of freeze-drying and packaging them as extremely clear memories. I think that smell and the way your skin feels are the key to this. I can only do it when I'm not concentrating on something else, so a lot of them are when I'm just sort of standing or sitting somewhere, and a lot of them are at night, when I tend to feel calm and pensive. I am sitting on the balcolny of our little hotel by the beach. It is a cool night, and I can feel the breeze coming in from the ocean. I am wearing shorts and a sweater. The beach has a smell, and the air feels pure and healthy. It is dark and I can see lights on the other side of the harbor. Or, I am standing at band practice, waiting to be given my set. My back hurts a little. It is a September night, so the air is cool, but you can tell that it has just been very warm a short time ago. I am somewhat happy, because I am surrounded by people that I know well and I feel that I belong. Natalie, the marimba player, is practicing the second song. Her part is beautiful - almost dreamlike - and changes from minor to major and back again. It is dusk. Lights shine down on the football field.
I am noticing colors right now. I like most colors. It has occoured to me that white is a very nice color. It is complex in its simplicity. Black is too. I think it would be nice if everyone had some training in art, because it makes you really notice things when you look at them. Almost everything is beautiful if you really look at it. Beauty is one of those things that you can't capture. I think, like time, that's what makes it what it is. Still, sometimes it is frustrating. You don't understand it because you can't hold onto it. It just IS. Or, in some cases, it just isn't anymore.
As I get older, everything seems less black and white. A few years ago, I would have said "I don't see things in black and white anymore." But now I see things that way even less, and I'm sure eventually it will change even more. It's a whole different feeling - a whole different way of thinking. Right now my mind feels open, and it's a good feeling.
He is beautiful. I remember the beauty, and I know in my mind that it exists right now. I don't know if anyone I know is as beautiful as he is. But I'm still over him, and I'm sure that I will continue to get more over him as time goes on. I understand that it is over. I truly, completely understand that, through and through. It's complicated. I used to love him, and that was beautiful. But that's gone now. I tried to hold onto it, but I couldn't. You can't. It's a whole different season now. There will be more seasons. I'm okay with that. In fact, it makes me feel good.
I swear I'm not high right now. I just get like this sometimes.
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