i met up with one of my close friends from high school, and somehow the question came up of whether we have changed. my friend responded that i’ve become more compassionate. or at least overtly so— apparently, donating bone marrow and volunteering for things is a get-out-of-“mean”-free card. score. (not that i was ever considered mean before, probably overly sarcastic if anything. oh, sarcasm.)

but like many things, this question became a rather slippery slope descending into the pits of looking back at things  i have written in previous years and sticky sticky rumination. these things happen when you have an abundance of time. i have reached the conclusion that somewhere over the course of resolution making, continually forming relations with other people, and just plain old good intentions, i have changed. for the better, most probably

i used to absolutely hate sharing feelings with other people.  i.e., i was pretty uncomfortable letting my friends know that i actually liked them. you know. because you start talking and then there are endless puddles of mush and gush that you slip on while trying to get places. it’s a mess.  i don’t remember what exactly changed, but maybe that there was one classmate whose presence sorta niggled at my thoughts and i realized that it was because of how open he was about everything. and it was refreshing, and i wanted it too

so there you go. sometimes i wonder if i have fallen out of the pit and into the fire. i can barely lie at standard how-are-you’s if i am feeling particularly crappy, but… at least my friends know that they are very well liked. the best part about being open is that i tend to not do things that i would be ashamed to be open about. in retrospect, this may also be the worst part.

i lost my point somewhere up there. anyways. i’d definitely feel weird sharing anything i wrote before, but i am absolutely A-OK with that now because i think there is a certain freedom in being really happy with the sort of person you are and, in turn, all the issues that come with your person. here’s hoping this stays, along with always trying to be better. (although this may also be a problem.)

ok. i am done.

there is always something about being in transit that makes me more self-reflective. buses, trains, airplanes, cars, seeing everything around you in motion while you can only sit still and wait to get unstuck from the in-between.
i’m sitting in the airport at dc right now. i cried on the taxi leaving brown to the airplane and then on the airplane some more, i get much too sentimental and seeing everybody continually leave is really difficult. the first few minutes of the flights made me realize just how scattered everyone will be— every support that i currently have and will make in college. it’s…well, it’s not okay, per se. i’m trying to figure out what exactly it is. saddening for sure. how much work does it take to get something transient fossilized? maybe not even possible

• get fit (i.e. make it through ‘insanity’ program with friends)
• read (at least 3 novels, and definitely this psych one)
• cook (will be off meal plan next year. at least 3 dishes well)
• learn to play guitar (goal of 2 songs)
• watch chinese tv shows (need to work on conversational mandarin)
• keep in touch with brownies (1 long message to close friends once/twice over the course of summer)
• hang out with my friends at home
• go to a concert 
• have adventures, take pictures 

ok, let’s go

i have my last final of the year in uh… 3 hours. and guess what, i am (currently) not studying. 

i haven’t been stressing out this finals period as much as i have generally. perhaps it’s because of how spaced out my finals are, or perhaps it’s some strange manifestation of sophomore slump. it’s not that i don’t care— giving your all (or at least most of your all) to things is something that is really important to me. but somehow… i’m definitely okay if i don’t do the BEST ever

this semester has been, by far, the most trying time of my life. my grandmother passed away and i couldn’t attend her funeral. i donated bone marrow and it was really frustrating not being able to walk or stay awake for the longest time. my dad had some pretty serious health issues. my aunt has some pretty serious health issues. my mom is the eternal translator and, for the first time, told me that she was just sorta okay in response to the how are you. i realized that when i return to the bay, my family will not be the single entity living underneath one roof. additionally, my friends were going through incredibly difficult times themselves. and then there was, as always, life.

but— (you always have to wait for the ‘but’) i realized something important. something really important. i, you, and most importantly, we, have the agency to direct the course of life. sometimes we find this independently. sometimes we find this in others. sometimes we find this together. maybe this realization hides sometimes, but with a little careful searching it is always present. the best thing that i could have done for myself in college is already done. 

not to say that i am done with college. (hah.) however, there is a fundamental security that i find in myself to not just get past events, but to learn and thrive from them. and… in the face of all that… well. finals? 

bring it on. i dare you

yesterday, somebody in my fiction class asked if i could send him this piece of writing i read out for our last fiction class (see “for my friends” post). he was intrigued about the concept of writing for somebody else, and has a family member who’s going through a rough time. he thought it might help if he sent the piece, or read it aloud.

this is why i like writing, and will try my hardest to continue. seriously one of the best feelings that i’ve had, especially within this finals period that doesn’t really feel like finals period— aka i am not studying as hard as i should be. 

to this sharing of a happy moment, i also will tag on another thought: did you know that we tend to remember things in a way that is congruent with our current personality/demeanor? so if you are such and such way, you remember everything that highlights being that way. i’d like to think of this as our way of perpetually creating a story: there is a running theme and we tweak what memories we have to fit within that. therefore, we are all story-holders (with the potential of being a story-teller)

oddly, the feeling of being deprived of sleep gets to be a tad addicting. my recent sleeping schedule is the most wonky it has ever been, and as much as i’d like to say it is because of such and such exterior factors… it’s me.

i believe the first time i ever encountered the possibility that the feeling you get when you are in want of sleep is pretty alright— a little floaty, complacently okay with everything— is when my sister and i made a secret society as kids: the glow in the dark club. (good times.) we marched around in the dark with things that glowed in the dark, and hid under blankets with flashlights for secret club business. more importantly, as the night went on and we got increasingly tired, we would crawl to the edge of the bed and lie on our backs with our heads dangling over the edge and blood rushing there.

it was a good feeling. and in light of my other fact (that not sleeping for ___ hours can be considered the equivalent of drinking ___ wine), maybe i can just call it getting drunk off life.

i really ought to get some more sleep, though. before it’s not much of an option

Did you know that your heart is about the size of your fist? So when you reach to clasp somebody’s hands for a first meeting of sorts, you’re really delighting in the comparison made: one a little more clumsy than the other in the fumble of fingertips. Awkward smiles and invitations to connect the intersections of our identities litter the floor when we shake hands and release, the promise of friendship.

Did you know that the brain generates about ten watts of electricity? Which is a crappy lightbulb, but just enough to illuminate the way in which to crawl on rooftops, play hide and seek in the park with darkness by our sides, and stand at the shores of all that is fluid. The only difference between light and happiness is that the source of one isn’t ninety-three million miles away: fair-weather friends become whether-you-like-it-or-not friends when the thunderstorm rolls right over us as we run screaming. If the sun went out, it would take us eight minutes before the last bit of light stopped streaming in and we realized that it is time to find a new game.

Did you know that not sleeping for seventeen hours is the equivalent of drinking two glasses of red wine? So maybe we’re all a little bit perpetually tipsy. When we have late night talks everything is tinged with haziness and wonder at this foggy filter and what manages to float through. There is the puff of good humor, nebula of strange ponderings and cotton cloud of transient hope which enthralls us all. Sometimes we take out every battery out of every clock just to make time stand still, only to realize that it is unnecessary and perhaps all you need is the right company. The birds chirp regardless.

Did you know that hummingbirds are the only birds that can fly backwards? Occasionally we pause to wind through the paths weaved, carefully trailing backwards and backwards until we arrive together overlooking the history of first handshakes and what now feels like just seconds passed.