There are plenty of things I want to tell people, a multitude of words that threaten to spill out of my mouth. But who would listen? I feel exhausted, yet I don’t even think I am doing enough.
It’s been a while since I’ve considered putting down my thoughts somewhere. Ever since I’ve started college, time proves to be relentlessly ongoing again and again, and I never seem to have enough time to collect the straying pieces of mind and organize them so they are at least somewhat decipherable to others and, most importantly, myself.
In the span of five months or so, I’ve become friends with people I never thought I would be friends with, I’ve experienced another side of the US that I can’t really ever see back in Massachusetts. I’ve missed the cold weather terribly because seeing glimmers of sunshine every day, every week can be a bit overbearing. It helps to have a few clouds and rainy days every now and then, but I’ve just grown accustomed to the mellowness and tranquility of grey, breezy days.
I realize, truly realize, what it’s like to miss home and have that expectation of seeing family daily shatter. I was so used to seeing my parents in the morning while eating breakfast, or I would spend long afternoons watching dramas and movies with my mother. Even when I wasn’t with my friends, I would have family to keep me company. It’s something that I sorely miss. They are not here for me when I miss them most, and even though they are only a phone call away, hearing them speak to me from miles and miles away can’t substitute for the lack of their presence. From first-hand experience, I can honestly say that the saying, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder” is indeed true. Every bit of it rings true.
This post is incredibly disorganized, but summarizing my college experience up until now is overwhelming. It can’t be condensed to a few paragraphs or even a text post on tumblr. Moving away from home and starting anew at school is simply invigorating. The feeling of establishing a new life somewhere, and recreating and reevaluating yourself is indescribable. It’s something that people need to experience on their own. The reason why I barely go on tumblr anymore is because forming these personal experiences at this point of my life is most important to me. Scrolling through pages of distractions that are both oddly amusing and pointless is something I could easily in high school because, honestly, who wasn’t bored in high school? But now that I actually have the opportunity to see things on my own, to meet new people, to share ideas and learn anything I want to learn, I don’t feel restrained to the internet or limited to the bubble I lived in at home. My time spent at college is easily the happiest period of time for me so far.
I felt like destroying something beautiful.
So I took the delicate china of your voice
And shattered it across the floorboard of my memories
Held the neck of your smile
And choked it with the five-finger noose of my words
Puddled the beams of your laughter
in the palm of this pain and drenched it in my dark.
I felt like destroying something beautiful
So I loved you with the whole of my heart.
When I hear stories about people who have created something of their own and have become successful by their own making, or when I see people on the internet or on television who have strived to reach a position that not many people can occupy, I feel lost, minuscule and insignificant in comparison. These people all had a plan in mind when they put in their best effort to do something, to bring about some sort of beneficial change in their lives. I am envious, of course. One day, I hope I can feel the same sort of satisfaction they feel due to their accomplishments. I want to be proud of something I’ve done. Excess pride may be a deadly sin. Overlooking the work of others—there is nothing humbling about that, but people should feel just enough pride and satisfaction when they finally pass their own finish line, establishing and reaching a milestone in their pond of goals and aspirations.
Recently, I feel like I’ve been aimlessly going through unproductive routines, not clearly thinking of a right path to take. In general, I am a burden to not only people around me, but to myself as well. Why does my life suddenly seem so deprived of goals? Getting accepted by a college, attending that college—these were my long-term goals ever since elementary school; with these goals, there was no room for questions and no flexibility. They were goals my parents expected me to fulfill, and in the end, I did fulfill them. But now, what am I doing exactly? Most of the time my mind drifts in an abundance of fog, distracted by the triviality of every day life, and I am not entirely living with a purpose, not focused in the least bit on a new goal. I admit I don’t even know what my new goal is.
Silent snowfall stirs up nostalgia within me. The feeling of snowflakes dusting eyelashes and cheeks, cold, yet gentle. The sound of boots crunching on freshly fallen snow and the hum of the winter breeze. The numbness that settles into purple-tipped fingers despite wearing thick ski gloves. The winter seasons remind me of childhood; they are childhood, mostly because every other memory I have of my childhood involve cold weather in some way. The snow outside today doesn’t seem as blindingly bright, as spectacular, as frosty as the snow in my mind though.
People don’t just change. They transform, morph into shadows of the people they once were, until the most distinctive features and characteristics become merely details smaller than the tip of a pen. Until they are barely traceable. And perhaps you can still have conversations, still laugh along, but there is a strain there, a flicker of uncertainty that edges its way into your relationships with these people. That hint of doubt quickly blooms and spreads out. One day you’re faced with an ocean of separation, but you don’t quite know how so much space made its way between you and them, between friends, or is it strangers?
When we are teetering on the fine crevices and cracks in the ice, arms and legs spread out—poised, prepared—the entire world stands still and suddenly we are the only ones who exist. The silence is overwhelming, the air is empty space, and here we remain frozen in the same position. Ice blue frost that sinks deep into the marrow of our bones and feels so numbingly cold that it’s hot.
She kissed a set of sweet tempered lips
Until the sun shone, their shoes caked with mud
And there was none but the swallowing of pride
The murdering of gathered hearts.
She penned a world bathed in her own tears,
Breathing in reminiscent love
Out her bay window, the gray surfacing in her hair.
“If only we could love without
The torment of money which would leave us
Ill-tempered and destructive, burying that
Which was at one time, our breath of life.”