I'm packing it all up

I don't mind the rain. I'm sad to see it go so soon. Classes started. Here we go another 16 weeks. I have a sick churning knot in my stomach. It's not going away.

I know your name and what you represent, but I hardly know you. We've come all this way, and I have yet to know what you like. All I know is that you want to be an author someday. This makes me incredibly sad, and distant. Although our relationship is something that can't be separated. We hang on through sporadic phone calls and murky memories. I want you to be a part of my life forever. Please be there.

Our Hopes and Expectations

I get anxious a lot. It probably comes from over thinking. I woke up anxious, wanting to be unconscious again.

Lately, I seem to be having third person's perspective. When I'm conversing or with others, I have almost an out-of-body experience. It's a feeling of disconnect. I know what I'm saying and I'm paying attention, but I'm not there.

People know you, but they don't. They know how much you want them to know and at maximum they know what you know. I don't know much.

I want you to know. I want you to know everything. I wish I could explain to you who I am and where I'm at, but I can't. I can't form the words and when I open my mouth, it's merely to take a breath. I want to show you. I want to be comfortable around you to show you. I wish we didn't feel pressured to talk, but know enough of each other to understand our silence. I want to be real. I'm bored of using the same line. I wish we could talk about the elephant. I wish we didn't waste our time. I wish I knew you. I want you to see me.

Sitting here, missing a lung

I have magical powers.

Tricked

First impressions are pretty significant. How one presents him/herself sets the tone for how the other party perceives you. Humans are tricky. We can have a great first impression and the more someone learns about you, they realize how that initial contact might have been skewed.

I've learned to not have expectations for people. It's a calling for disappoint and failure. It's better to just take things as they are and to not figure someone out.

In the end, I can only blame myself.

It's all so tricky. I can't live without and I can't live with.

Happy new years. A friend brought a good point. New years is just another day. It's another date and it's really nothing special. New years happen all the time: birthdays, anniversaries, back to schools. It's simply another year to count. It's not like you wake up on New years and your problems are gone nor do you start off with a new slate. Another year means, another year gone, another one starting. It means time is running out. It means crap I'm this old. It means shoot what have I done so far. It means crap I don't know what to do next year.

A year is a blur, and at the end of it you only remember 'important' occasions: graduation, trip to vegas, when you broke your arm, when your aunt got diagnosed with cancer, and maybe you're GPA for the last quarter. Another year past means those memories become consolidated and stored in the 2009 filing cabinet. Another year gone means it's time to move forward.