For the Mr. Kites

Hi all, I've decided to blame all feelings from this past week to PMS. I know, just an excuse, and maybe that's not really it, but I don't want to hear about it. I've also decided to remedy this by trying to keep myself busy, blasting electronica at dangerously high volumes (into my earphones though, as it is finals week), and writing about it here :)

I'm starting to really like college. And really like, as in I don't want to leave for a month. Really like, as in I don't lie sleepless in my bed every night wishing I could go home. What is home, really? What's at home waiting for me? Thanksgiving was a good dose of home. I didn't want to leave by the end, but being back in Boston for only two weeks is too short. I don't miss home yet. I miss my dog, I miss certain eating places, maybe i miss some people, but not really. Or maybe, the reason I like college is because I don't want to go home.

I don't want to go back to my old life. As fun as that was, it's too up and down, it's too complicated. There are too many things that affect me in ways I'm not pleased with, due to too-complicated relations with too many people. I don't want to have to remember the bad times, because frankly I haven't really had any here at Boston College. College really can be the fresh start everybody wants. The only factor that decides everything, is you and how you go about things. College is the fresh start that I want. I'm getting the chance to start some sort of new chapter in my life with all the things that I wish I knew before, and I'm making damn sure that I'm not fucking things up.

But instead, being home and getting closer to home, there comes an anxious feeling instead. My stomach feels uncomfortable and my salivary glands go into overdrive; not quite the drooling or sickly sweet taste right before throwing up you'd imagine, but somewhere in between. I feel lethargic and slothy, my limbs get slightly tingly and I get unimaginably nervous. Over nothing. I think I know why, and it's a stupid reason. A stupid reason that probably doesn't even exist outside of my overactive out-of-control mind. I don't want to think anymore, so I pull out my trusty headphones and let trippy catchy beats overtake my mind. I can't get over this, and just when I thought I was free I realized I was still in the same stupid confines of my own head.

I want to say that life is too hard as an idealist. I want to believe that it would just be easier to be cynical and therefore never surprised when life disappoints me, but I don't want to give up what happiness I do have for anything. All in all, I want to keep hoping that all of my dreams of pretty things will come true one day, and that life doesn't suck as much as everybody else tells me it does. I want people to pleasantly surprise me when they finally change for the better, I want to be confident that my friends and acquaintances won't screw me over, and I want life as we know it to keep feeding me bits of happiness. Which makes it even harder to be down in the dumps, knowing that this is my choice not to be some unfeeling/depressed robot (Yes, an oxymoron, but go away). But I'm not going to lie, I can't wait until I am happy with everything again.



So until then (or whenever my chemicals decide to balance themselves), I will continue to hide in my Crystal Castles.