Perhaps it's the monotony of the school year, and my dire need for spring break. Maybe it's the juice fast, and the high blood sugar levels. Maybe it's none of those things, and maybe it's just the rain, me, or my ever-present desire to graduate. I do things in seasons, you know:
I'm vegan, I'm hipster, I'm a theater girl, now I do opera and stuff. I write and then I don't write at all. I'm over things and then I'm not. I have friends, and then we all move on, move out, and get new friends. I'm a lily growing in a greenhouse [because I maintain the color yellow even when it's raining tar in March.]
I say the things on my mind, and shortly
The trees outside are surely blooming, and despite their interesting scent, I am inclined to say I enjoy the newness of white petals rather than protruding roots. I don't really like roots--they are far too fragile. Anything which connects you to a life-source makes me uneasy. I know it's almost April, but all at once I forgot where March was and wish it were June [never July--I hate July, you know.]
It's possible I finally reached the point while crying during testing [I don't recommend it], where I realized my brain feels too tired and my heart too weak while my legs are still strong. I've never been a good handler of the every day things--though I'm the best around at dealing with catastrophe. The little words and phrases pile up into a tornado that places me away from Kansas and leaves me in an apartment with a cat, the 12th cup of Green Tea, letters you should have discarded long ago, and eager blood-flow to the fingers.
Maybe all these things are just thoughts scattered on a blog after a long few weeks of midterms, at the end of the day I think all this introvert needed was a healthy dose of extroversion--but I'm aware this lily can look barbed wire and some times other flowers love to look and not to play [the gardener is giving 'miracle grow' to remedy this most unfortunate event.]
Time For Bed. The Morning Comes Quickly.
[when your dreams become harder to remember.]