I witnessed first hand the fight in the cafeteria today, and as other's human impulses to relate and tell others the excitement and unexpected-ness (is that a word?) of this recent event, I kind of just sank into myself and felt like crying. It was just the fleshy smack of fist against cheek, the swell of moisture just beneath his eyelid's brim.. the cruel mechanics of it, the way all eyes turned in wonder or some vindictive sense of amusement or I dont even know.

My yogi tea quote disappointed me for the first time, ever. It said "let things come to you". This may be an insightful lesson later on in my life, but at the moment, bubbling with the vivacity of youth and vitality I really feel like running after things myself. My godsister pointed out that maybe it means to accept the things that have been coming to me, and that I can accept. She also taught me some great new words, and made me wonder if someone can have cordate eyes. Probably not

I wonder when there is the point where honesty becomes futile in the face of how much hurt will be caused. I'd like to be more honest with people, and I'd also like them to like me. It is so easy for me to be vulnerable and open and honest, as long as they are first. There are so many things I want to tell everyone, to tell the world, to tell you. My foundation of assurance is so flimsy as of now, and young, and maybe as it matures I will take more risks. Increase my buoyancy. It is an acrid taste of emotions that I need to sort out

Today I had the awkward encounter of entering the girls bathroom at the same time as another freshman. Silence, mirror-looking, silence. A thought popped into my head that I should say something. I looked and the first thing I noticed about her was her hair, mussed and lightweight and floating freely from her face, yet she was putting a lot of grooming time into it. I told her I liked it, and I feel like lies like these are worth it when I passed her in the hallway at the end of the day and she absolutely beamed. LiT UP!