The cricket monster set out for the day. Her goal? Make it to the flagpole and back--that had been easy for her just one year ago and now she had been working towards this simple task for weeks. She wished that she wouldn't live forever; after all, everything would be so much simpler if she knew that there would some sort of definite ending. But forever stretched before her like a rope made out of gum and she couldn't think any more about this at the moment because she had to get to that damn pole.
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The key isn't telling people that you understand them or that you have similar experience to theirs. Detailing your own abuse It isn't central to understanding your friend's heartbreaking account of rape. Relational equality is not a measure of experiential equality; relational equality is a measure of the support that comes from someone who may or may not have actually experience what you're feeling. There's beauty in allowing a friend's words to fall from their lips, float in the air, and accept them as nothing more and nothing less than what they are. There's beauty in listening, even when you both know that there's nothing that you can (or should) say in response.
One of my not-so-close high school/considerably-closer-and-dear college friends received a full time job offer this week for when she graduates in December. I am so proud of her and she absolutely deserves this job (as well as the many other blessings that I am sure Life has in store for her). She works so hard and is a truly gentle soul who has never asked for much. She deserves happiness and if this job is a step in that direction (or even just an encouraging stepping stone on the way to her actual step in that right direction), I hope it treats her well.
There is freedom waiting for you, After a fitful, barely five-hour night's rest, I opened my eyes to a day that I was prepared to be my last. At around 7:00 this morning, I began my usual morning routine, packed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and restocked my backpack's tissue supply before heading to the pick-up location on Green Street.
I intentionally hadn't told a soul about my plans for today because I didn't want to hear their opinions (naysayers or otherwise) about my endeavor to fulfill one of my wildest personal milestones. And honestly? I thought skydiving was on everyone's bucket list-- but I learned today that it is, in fact, not on my own father's list. I was shocked... but only mildly, because I feel that his years spent scuba diving are more than enough for him to earn his risk-taking achievement award. I mean, scuba diving sounds way scarier to me than does skydiving. But anywho, YES I WENT SKYDIVING TODAY. And it is a day that I truly hope to never forget-- as is the feeling of free fall... and the feeling of floating thousands of feet above the ground... Totally worth waking up at 7:00 a.m. and shelling out $145. Went to grade papers for a couple hours this morning. Realized that the mold in my water bottle straw-entry area is actually quite disgusting and maybe that’s why I am starting to feel sick. I have that scratchy feeling in the back of my throat that I get when some niggling, inconvenient head cold is looming in front of me and I almost (almost) hate the anticipation of the discomfort that is to come more than the actual discomfort.
Or maybe I am getting sick from being stressed. I wonder if this is the most stressful semester of college I will experience. There are 97 days left (I still have to do today’s Instagram post though). I am sitting in the grove and typing and being an old lady while I watch the young’uns play with water balloons. People from LAR, Allen, and Busey are here and I know only half of the people present. There is something strange about the overturning of generations that occurs in college (and high school too, I guess, technically); it’s like… not so much sad as it is bittersweet and not so much disconcerting as it is just lonely. I miss what once was, but I am grateful for where I am. I crave the company of those who are older than me and who have already left, but I am excited to see where life is taking them and where/who we will be in x number of years and what new cafes we can check out together. I wonder if ants on a log know that they are ants on a log? And if, in fact, those ants do not know that about themselves.... what objective truths are humans unable to know about themselves? And is this blindness an incapability (our fault) or is it actually an inability (Universe's decision)? |
Authormy mind is full of gibberish and this space will keep me sane. we have a love-hate relationship. Archives
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