I am doing an Instagram one-a-day countdown for the semester/until I'm done with undergrad and I am not ashamed to say how much I love it. It's something so small, but I like the feeling of intentionally seeking something in my day (no matter how random or plan or ugly or not picturesque) that I can write a small caption for and post on my account.
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- post-gym protein shake and music and singing
- Free Comic Book Day (spongebob pin) + almond pastry - Ike dinner -- made fun of me for eating dessert first -- eye contact - helping Angelo teach me how to board - lazy weekends in Allison's room - winter retreat 2016 (even though I was trying to convince myself I didn't like like you) - Quad Day 2015 w/ Mitch and Dre (I didn't think you were a freshman and you signed up for like every other booth we passed) - Ghosts vs. Ghostbusters w/ IV - Your first sandwhich - We'd thumb wrestle and you wouldn't let me win - "Hey you" - PB in eye - I liked you just the way you were -- flaws and everything -- there was nothing wrong with you - I was pretending to sleep and you put a blanket on me - "we're completely fucked" --> and we didn't know how it would come true, but I wasn't scared to go through that because it would be with you - No shoes on my rug - No regret --> new happiness and familiar safety - Helping you with your laundry on the Shelden side lol - having so much trouble with my bra lololol - how you are forever perturbed by me chucking that banana against the wall - I am right handed, you idiot - packing at end of the year - ^^ you picked up the wrong pizza (Dominos) - That time you laughed so hard you cried because I clicked on the one tab out of like 12 that wasn't related to schoolwork and you had been trying to tell me that you were being productive - You making fun of how I flap my arms when I'm longboarding - when you, me, and elijah were longboarding and you were behind me and you had your phone up (taking picture? video?) while smiling - You were such an aggressive cover-stealer when you slept with Elijah, but then when you slept with me you kept waking up cold/falling off the futon because I'd steal the covers and/or move around too much and push you off - laying on the futon in my room: "we could literally not be any closer" - bumping into me and catching me when I tipped over Such a wholesome word. Which I guess makes sense, given what tradition literally is and I don't have the correct description for why 'tradition' and 'wholesome' are pretty much synonyms, but let's not get too focused on that. You all know what I'm talking about.
But when tradition is racist and wholesome fun involves violence and the past suddenly takes on a much darker tint than we would like to admit our contributions to, is this still a way of life that we want to cocoon ourselves in? Yes, it may be tradition to curl up by the fire with a fleece blanket after Christmas dinner and listen to Grandpa Pete talk about the days of yore and all that's changed compared to the traditions of his memory and laugh with everyone and generally feel snuggled and cozy and warm and, essentially, imbued with the wholesomeness of tradition. I don't know if distance truly does make the heart grow fonder, but I do know that high school is a terrible, agonizingly compulsory fact of American adolescence. Truly, if I was told I had to start over with my four years of high school next week (can someone give me a situation in which that would be necessary???) I would just flee the country instead. Although I wholeheartedly believe high school would be magnitudes better the second time around (just because I am a much more reasonable person), it would also be magnitudes worse because it fucking starts at 7:45 a.m. So if these two effects cancel each other out... what I'm left with is the realization that high school gave me the chance to be part of ripe sky and it gave ripe sky a chance to be a part of me and that's all that matters.
Chocolate coated. Coat coated human. Sugar-coated truths. These are the first three things that coats remind me of and I wonder if there's a correlation for the three items and their decreasing relative levels of sweetness. Chocolate coated strawberries or marshmallows or cakes are, literally, sweet. A human being, bundled up against the cold in a lush parka, may or may not have a sweet demeanor. I mean, hopefully being warm would raise their spirits considerably if the alternative would be lacking the parka and, therefore, freezing in the cold? But sugar as a disguise for something altogether bitter and much too complicated to be made tolerable by a dusting of white powder? I should think that the deceptive nature of this sugar would render any of its physical sweetness a toxic impostor.
Indeed, we often like to think that we can cover up the tastes, the sights, the memories, the mistakes, the lies, the past with sprinkling of something more palatable; but in reality, it is this additional compound, this attempt to alter what is, that may be the greater poison. |
Authormy mind is full of gibberish and this space will keep me sane. we have a love-hate relationship. Archives
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