"With our love-- we could save the world

if only they knew.

Try to realize its all within yourself no-one else

can make you change

And to see you're really only very small

and life flows on within you and without you."

WITHIN YOU WITHOUT YOU. THE BEATLES

About five minutes ago, my whole family was piled into my parent's room, which happens to be the only place with air conditioning. This air conditioner belonged to my grandparents who both smoked excessively, and it expells a stench of cigarettes. But it is cold, rather than oppressive and sultry. And by my whole family, I am including the dogs to make this statement actually carry weight. Three dogs certainly can be overwhelming. One of them just threw up and I had to clean it. Anyways-

While lying at my mom's feet, I thought about growing old (these thoughts prompted by my emotional viewing of Benjamin Button) and I began to sing

will you still need me, will you still feed me, when i'm sixty four? and I sang loudly until I exhausted my knowledge of words from this song. There was silence for a second, before I heard faintly (my dad had his head stuffed under a pillow)a muffled humming to a new tune, which was now lovely Rita! Meter maid! Where would I be without you?

And we just kept singing. And when I touch you, I feel.. happy. Completely off-key, and so whiny sounding that the dogs began to howl and trill. Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song, and Ill try not to sing out of key. But we laughed and laughed and I think this moment symbolized the clean step onto a new level of relationship with my parents. Recently, I confessed to my mom that I didnt just love her anymore, for simply being my mother. I actually like her. And for the first time, I want to grow up and be like them. We haven't fought since. I'm blessed to have parents so humane, strong enough to be vulnerable, and at heart still children. For well you know that its a fool who plays it cool by making his world a little colder.

I went to Boston today, and I am tirelessly, insatiably, hoplessly entrenched in the most immense feeling of omnipotent awe at.. (surprise! surprise!) people. And the enormity of everything. These vast, towering buildings that reside over thousands of diverse, scurrying beings who rush around interacting quickly and then moving on. Like a shared smile in the subway. Like the photographer whos attention we got. Like man whom we gave money. Like the people who laughed at us modeling in windows. Bustle bustle bustle. life Life LIFE

Erin and I wrote the quote at the beginning of this post on the dulled maroon seats of the train. I hope it affects someone, someday.

But then they danced down the streets like dingledodies,

and I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after

people who interest me, becuase the only people for me

are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to

talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same

time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace

thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman

candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the

middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes

"Awww!"

I'm not sure if I've wanted anything more in my life! Both to be, or to follow

"He took a step, but then felt tired

He said, "I'll rest a little while"

But when he tried to walk again

All the people hurried fast, real fast

And no one ever smiled

Blue lips, blue veins, blue

The color of our planet from far far away"

BLUE LIPS. REGINA SPEKTOR

In order to get a long with a group of girls, I've realized the best strategy for me is to be very adaptable. Its not that I am being false, or phony, but there are many sides and shades to me that are all truly genuine. I had come to the conclusion that I was a chameleon, when one girl described my other friend as a chameleon, and was saying it in an annoyed way. I know saying someone is a chameleon isn’t always a positive thing, but I thought about it and I decided I feel like it'd be an okay thing for someone to be. Like, what does it matter the color; the real point is what you are, which so happens for this person to be a chameleon. Some people can’t actually see you when you’re a certain color, but close friends would see and accept all the colors because they recognize you not for the color, but for the being. A chameleon. You can change color all the time because you have the capacity to be many different shades and still be genuine. You can change color all you want but that’s a surface thing, and doesn’t change what you really are. (I'd say "a chameleon" again but I'm getting a bit redundant) And who is only one color all the time anyways? (That thought process made a lot more sense in my own head. But the goal of this blog was working on my communication skills, so maybe I've reached someeeebody. Ideally a fellow chameleon)

Today I went to the beach in the cold wind and sporadic rain. The best way to describe the atmosphere of the beach I feel was grey. But it was a pleasant grey, a friendly enveloping grey, not like the grey of steel or similar opaque, rigid things but the grey of mist, or earl grey tea. (which I know is not actually grey). Because sometimes I like the clarifying pain of being chilled to the bone. And the wild abrupt impulse to rip off my layers and dive into the brisk toss of waves. The reaching tendrils of frothy white was the thickest foam I’ve seen in water before, and I think white is so beautiful in natural settings because the purity takes me by surprise. Our hands turned blue, and Joeys were an impressive rainbow. I just finished reading Perks of Being a Wallflower and the phrase “I feel infinite” cycled through my mind all day. Not because of any particular moment. But an accumulation of things, like running as fast as I could, like a collective urge to walk far far forever, like how vinyl record or book stores make me feel. Like cities and meeting new people and learning and questions and good music make me feel. Like comfortable silences, or good talks, or thinking about the future, or thinking about the past and realizing I’ve come to terms with it. I’ve definitely trailed off subject here, but basically society had made me believe “beach days” are sunny. False. Spontaneity is a brilliant thing.

"Look at that sky, life's begun

Nights are warm and the days are young

I'll stick with you baby for a thousand years

Nothing's gonna touch you in these golden years"

GOLDEN YEARS. DAVID BOWIE

I'm not sure what the sky is doing today. I stared at the sun for too long and everything up was an opaque white. The corners of my sight faded and colors ran at the edges. Its hazy and the sun is out but you cant always see it and its warm and I am swathed in a blamy embrace of mediums. Nothing is sharp or extreme. As is my mood

I'm not sure how I am percieved by others who have only recently known me, but the one who keeps calling needs to know that if I shed all my layers I am ultimately a shy, intimidated, impressionable person.

"and people make you nervous,

you think the world is ending and everybody's features have

somehow started blending

and everything is plastic

and everyone's sarcastic

and all your food is frozen, it needs to be defrosted"

GHOST OF CORPORATE FUTURE. REGINA SPEKTOR

today i went into worcester to a petite mediterranean market place that reminded me of trader joes except smaller and more personal; the young man who worked there was beautiful and wore wonderfully goofy glasses and i was intimidated because he seemed like someone i wanted to be like, or at least friends with, but it turns out he is warm and openly friendly. i wandered among rows of questionable things like squid in a jar (real ink inside!) and humorous things like jerk seasoning ("now i know what you put on your breakfast!") or brandname BITCH wine, and a multitude of tea (in this isle i was so overwhelmed by the brilliant choices that i became paralyzed, and bought nothing) and yum yum yummy baklava so rich and sweet and i think you should go to this market.

i went to kohls to buy emergency work clothes and the checkout girl was bored and chatty. and i cant tell if she was confused on who she was or merely did not care how she was perceived, but either way-- she wore a bright pink belly shirt and lots of girlish makeup and talked in a high, giggly voice. she also had a large tattoo, shaggy inky-dyed hair, and lots of piercings. she asked me if id been to the beach lately, and needed only a "yes! I--" before launching into a long tale, surprising me with the depth of what she was saying (describing going to the beach at night, swallowed in the abundance of newly visible stars, sneaky in barefeet to feel the raw grittiness of the sand and surf) and also with the way she was saying it (depositing like, a "like" like every other word, like seriously like im not like even joking like every word) and the way she ended it (and YEAH like its totally like illegal but the cops are way too, like, distracted by all the like drunk guys to like notice). she seemed crushed when we finally had to go, and it was slightly depressing to watch the animation drain out of her face as she started with the next "hi, welcome to kohls..."

then i had my first day at work bussing tables and i will never be able to eat at a restaurant again the same way, now that i know the mechanics of the place. you see waitresses smiling patiently with their customers, then swearing about them once in the kitchen. the atmosphere in the back boiled and steamed, but outside waitresses were cool and collected, smiling jovially. i ran from shouts, clangs, smashes and banging doors into a world of sleek and slender wine glasses clinking, the dim flicker of candles and muted conversation. i cleared off some table's beers before they were finished. the drunk guys were akward, but it was harmless and silly and made me laugh inside. the girl i worked with was truly a gift to me on my first day, and (despite the fact that id never met her) spilled a lot about her life to me, and a lot of it was intimate and not very happy. i enjoy listening though. she told me she wished i was in her grade because then wed probably be really good friends. actually, her crave to tell almost-strangers how much hatred she contained for certain people made me wonder if she naturally sought out drama, which would mean we probably wouldnt be very good friends. but for the situation, i really like her as a work buddy, and id love her to surprise me by being above petty highschool dramas. she made work fun fun fun

i guess the point of these three narative were the rest of the song..

people are just people, they shouldnt make you nervous

the world is everlasting, its coming and its going

if you dont toss your plastic

the streets wont be so plastic

and if you kiss somebody, then both of you'll get practice

i had a sleepover with my cousins and they began to discuss God and evolution. they were infuriated because they didnt see how the big bang theory made any sense. how did a particle just explode into a universe. who made the animals? who put the particle there in the first place? they said that it was just totally unrealistic, "there are some times when science stops and the only answer you can look to is God". they said. and they thought it was people with no hope that were athiest. "it upsets me so much. where do they think you go when you die?! so hopeless. emmy? emmy are you awake?". even though i was attentive and awake, i grunted and yawned as though i were sleepy, and lay there grinning because i have my own beliefs and they make me feel secure enough that other people arent necessarily hopeless and insane if they dont believe them too. i dont need validation becuase im so content and satisfied with them. and it struck me that maybe i should be upset (they did say some other things that could be taken offensively, though i know that wasnt the intent) but i was just too joyful. science relies heavily on questions, and my questions and wonder at the world are everlasting. i have a great abundance of faith. i havent not found love in anyone ive met. this human race gives me so much hope

the world is everlasting

put dirtballs in your pockets, and take off both your shoes

cause people are just people, people are just people, people are just people like you..

"I'm feeling rough, I'm feeling raw

I'm in the prime of my life

This is our decision, to live fast and die young

We've got a vision, now lets have some fun

Yeah its overwhelming, but what else can we do...

Get jobs in offices and wake up for the morning commute"

TIME TO PRETEND. MGMT

I've been experiencing!

I experienced canoeing on a still-glass lake, gliding through warm water and the slime of clawing lilly pads that we decided felt like hands. Then I had a major photo sesh, jam sesh, drinking white-chocolate-creamiscle smoothie sesh, and looking through good books sesh.

By living vicariously through my godsister, I learned what itd be like to experience complete self awareness, inner peace, or waking up. And when she taught me to meditate I felt like... I was the outer layer of myself. The skin, eyes, and breathing. And there were a thousand tiny screaming children bustling about inside my body but mostly my brain, all shouting to be heard, but not wanting to hear. But I could hear all of them.

I experienced the setting of my mouth on fire with SAAG (green), NAAN (bread?) and TANDOORI (red) which made me realize how bland American food really is. And I really want to taste all ethnical foods of every country, no matter how many hours my mouth burns afterwards. I experienced heavy downpour that (from inside buildings) lulls to sleep, and stealing packet after packet of tea from the hotel lobby. And Amaretto coffee-creamer. Yum. And the illuminating realization in someone else that there is hope in humanity.

I experienced staring down band members and exchanging glowing smiles. Musicians just move so many people.. they radiate this uplifted atmosphere, a mood that swings and dips with their instruments and voices; someday I want to affect a great number of people like they do. But that feeling was general, and when everyone on could see them on stage, I got a smile that was meant just for me. Simple smiles can be the most personal, touching things. I like smiling at everyone I walk by on the street.

I experienced being open and honest. I experienced dancing in the backseat and laughing and long languid lazy lovely days at the beach. I was refreshed by the realization of how much I loved certain people, and how such utter comfort around them is a rare thing that I have in abundance. And I felt very greatful. I experienced a collective joy between us of falling in love with book stores aka Barnes and Noble.

I bought an introduction to philosphy book for only five dollars, and ive fallen in love with it because its everything I wonder on a daily basis.

"I don't care for fancy things
Or to take part in a precious race
And children cry for the one who has
A real big heart and a father's grace"
MY GIRLS. ANIMAL COLLECTIVE


My soccer games have gotten canceled two days in a row and this has produced a varied jumble of emotions in me.. the outcome of this assortment of feelings being that i shout out and dance (or probably looks more like wildly throwing myself)around my hallway, to the confusion of my mother. Huh.

In lieu of going to soccer, I rode my bicycle to Rebekahs house where we stayed up into the very very early hours eating cookie dough, watching comedies, and listening to her ABC music list, which I am now realizing would have torn my soul apart to eliminate so many songs. Oh and we talked. But I feel like it was less like a conversation and more like me being enlightened in the wake of Beck's brilliant realizations about people, interactions, and LIFE in general. I dont mean that she did most of the talking because i usually have to put a reign on how much I talk, but I could chatter myself in a circle and then she would put things so articulately and realistically and.. yeah youre really open minded and coherent, you bloody wanker.

The next I mean same morning, we cross-town bike rode? rided? rid? to PHOP in the shimmering summer heat wave. Princeton hills are a bitch. Upon not being able to finish our pizza, we got joey to come along and meet us there. Shout out to wonderful, spontaneous interactions! George the pizza place guy told us that the 20 or 30 yr old construction workers had left their number for us with him when they left. He kept a very straight face when telling this story, and promptly turned around and left with a shrug once he was done. What? Lie?

Then we got delicious smoothies at mountain side market and walked up to the gazebo on the center-of-town's lawn. To a slight drizzle of rain. And after about ten minutes there was a large boom, and a large tear was cleaved in the sky for this light misting turned into what felt like a minor monsoon and we dashed to our bikes laying sprawled in the soaked, slippery grass, and we tore down the hill, Joey loping alongside without a bike and Beck way far ahead of me, her bright hair flailing and whipping and pretty soon I couldnt see in this streaky, torrential rain. I got sprayed by passing cars and puddles I swerved through and it was as though the clouds were hurling magnificent glass marbles from the heavens that shattered into thousands of crystalline shards and we were racing and racing and the world was an iridescent blue shimmer, much like the heat wave was but now it was wet wet wet and we pulled into his driveway and scampered into the house soggy and sodden and sopping and my clothes were drenched and heavy but i felt very very light.

Giggling in anticipation, Beck and I decided to ride our bikes back to her house in the rain.
The thunder had gotten harder but the downpour began to lighten up, and the whole way home was downhill so we flew. ("they cant touch me, we break off, run so fast they cant even catch me, touch me ill show you tricks with my zig zag quickly" O..SAYA. SLUMDOG MILL.) And screamed and laughed maniacally and curled and looped and sang and as i zigzagged through puddles and pulsing streaming rivlets of water my tire hurling behind me a fine spray my reflection danced in the puddles, their surfaces seeming to boil under the constant heaves of rain, and the world was green (emerald, rich, and earthy) and I was green (immature, young, naive) and we coalesced, the world and I, Beck and I, and I just felt so...

alive.
Song of yesterday was My Girls, by Animal Collective because its pusling, shimmering beginning remind me not only of heat, but now of rain.

Oh, I'll settle down with some old story
About a boy who's just like me
Thought there was love in everything and everyone
You're so naive!
After a while they always get it, they always reach a sorry end
Still it was worth it as I turned the pages
solemnly, and then
With a winning smile, the boy
With naivety succeeds
At the final moment, I cried
I always cry at endings"
GET ME AWAY FROM HERE I'M DYING. BELLE AND SEBASTIAN

I'm in a strange mood at the present. I woke up and found no one was inside the house, and both cars were gone. And no note as to where my absent parents might be. But my mood has this sluggish viscosity and my brain feels a bit heavy. And my hands are too slow to grasp the infinitesimal darting stream of time that's rushing away, mocking my slothfulness. In other words
I'm... wasting ... time

The past few days have been a headlong rush of activity that i will sum up as fireworks and staying up until 330 while having extremely philosophical conversations and sending wonderfully humorous texts and bike races and sitting on rooftops and dancing in backseats of cars and nature and leeches and twelve solid hours in a row with JO37 (during which I realized i really like sitting on swingsets and his camera) and being with people who complete my life in the way that we fit together seamlessly, balancing the others extremes out and softening eachother edges, all transcended by the automatic love that comes with being family, supplemented by love that comes with true respect for others, and eating much too much (what is with our culture's obsession in overindulgence?) and figuring out i actually am a lot like my mom and long car ride with my dad and realizing bullying and violence make me shaky inside but its nice when someone has my back.

that hardly does it justice. the quote up there reminded me of two things i will only briefly mention because my sour mood will probably ruin both ideas.

the first part reminded me of how i had recently come to accept my tried-and -true hypothesis that there actually was love in everything and everyone. but i trust belle and sebastians stance on life more than my own- so im thinking that im way too utterly sheltered and priveleged to realize my hypothesis is false. it also made me question if naive was a bad thing to be, and if its a valid way to be happy. but i think its like the way a blind person can be happy because to them, being blind is merely a state of being that has always been. but to someone who used to have sight and is now blind, they might eternally dwell on the newly gaping hole in their (until recently) rich and complete life, and will consequently always long for eyesight back. being complete is therefore a figment of perspective, i think. as well as being happy

the second part reminded me at how angry i am at the book i just finished, because apparently it doesnt regard me highly enough to leave me with a realistic and true ending. i am content with the fact that life is imperfect and unfair (yet ultimately, beautiful). this means that i am getting a little bored of reading story after story that is tied up with a neat, predictable, perfect ending. its corniness made me cringe. i used to read those petty teen-novels with perfect looking people, trivial dramas, and in the end the good girl always wins. i cant stand them anymore because they male out people, and high school in general, to be so black and white; as though there really are good or bad people, and not a thousand shades of gray behind motives, perspecitives, loyalties, and misconceptions. so i expected that this book, which had been displaying life to me in its faulted, yet true way, would end with a sense of pain, but also a lesson. i read this book not for hope, but for truth. if there is not a perfect world, how may we go on living as righteously as we can in an existance so flawed and bound to hurt others? instead of an answer, i was confronted with the cliche wall of - oh no worries! there are perfect endings!

"Ice has covered up my parents hands

dont have any dreams, dont have any plans

growin up in some strange storm

nobody's cold, nobody's warm"

NEIGHBORHOOD#3. ARCADE FIRE

SHOUT OUT TO THE SUN !

Last night my dad taught me how to ride a road bicycle, since im a horrible bike rider and ive never riden one like the very old, road one he has. I'm still to scared to lift my hands off the handles enough to change gears. I felt like a child again, and screamed into the suffocating, foggy mist as I wobbled and careened into the road. I felt like a kid who couldnt color within the lines. The minute Dad settled onto the bike he was transformed; I saw him as a young, city boy again smiling into the wind and fighting me for turns on the bike. Old age often seems an omnipotent indomitable thing, but i realized it only takes precedence when you acknowledge it. I dont believe Dad had any idea that he was an adult when he set his hands on those handles. And if you believe, and feel something, so utterly and strongly- what makes it false?

The quote on my bag of tea this morning read "Recognize that you are the truth".

I am having trouble swallowing this. For one, Im not sure how strongly I believe in the truth. I cant comprehend how there is only one truth. Especially since we extract different things from every statement; if I tell the truth it will mean a thousand different things to a thousand different people. If I want to get one true meaning across to a thousand different people, Id have to express it a thousand different ways. Would these variations be lies?

And dont we all live how we believe is the truth? I'm not sure anyone I know is living deliberately false. Dont we all strive, or at least automatically follow, what we believe is right? Then I feel like that would make all of us the truth. Maybe the tea bag should have read "Recognize that you are a truth"

Maybe I'm being selfish and this quote's demand wasnt even for me. Quite possibly it wants me to impart this message on others; maybe my job in life is to make others realize the truth in themselves. To empower them- I'd like to empower people. Maybe the quote is about taking a lesson from something, digesting it, and spreading it out to other people instead of holding onto it, like a secret, for our own.

Recognize that you are the truth.

Now, I am demanding :) But if you spread something false (negative), but it gives hope (positive) to others, does this make it a postive or a negative thing?

Math would tell me that a positive x a negative is always a negative. Dumb, pessimistic math; you've already acknowledged that you are the truth.

I used correct punctuation and capitalization in this blog for the first time, and I'm not sure why

"And I could say oo oo oo
As if everybody knows
What I'm talking about
As if everybody would know
Exactly what I was talking about
Talking about diamonds on the soles of her shoes"
DIAMONDS ON THE SOLES OF HER SHOES. PAUL SIMON

sorry for using paul simon two days out of the last three, but i like those lyrics to sum up last night :)
since i feel like they knew exactly what i was talking about. and i could talk about deodorant that smells like an icy blast of the potato famine as if everybody knew what i was talking about. and bryan told us to look at that tree across the pond that was veiled by beads of mist, specifically the draping right side of it, and everybody there knew exactly what he was talking about.
i like when connection transcends any need to talk.
i like walking and watermelon and fog so heavy you can hardly see, and i like how people cling to eachother in the dark out of mutual, vulnerable need and i like not having a plan.

im so busybusybusy maybe ill write more laterzzz.
no picture with this post, just look @ joeys, who has an abundance of potd's

"Power to the people

(We don't want it, we want pleasure)

And the T.V.s try to rape us

And I guess that they're succeeding

And we're going to these meetings

But we're not doin' any meetin'

And we're trying to be faithful

but we're cheatin', cheatin', cheatin'"

HERO. REGINA SPEKTOR

last night i fell asleep to THUNDER and lightning and rain and rain and rain and rain and rain and rain and thousands of pattering feet on my roof that whispered melancholy water afterthoughts to me, lullabies and drops that caressed my window screen and i heard the resonant guttural husky train bellow, its crisp concise warning whistle and then the world held its breath and i fell asleep in a smooth, cashmere silence wrapped closer than my bed sheets.

and i woke up to the musky, brisk petrichor.

shout outzzz to my godsister, to whom i owe that word :)

"This is the story of how we begin to remember

This is the powerful pulsing of love in the vein

After the dream of falling and calling your name out

These are the roots of rhythm

And the roots of rhythm remain"

UNDER AFRICAN SKIES. PAUL SIMON

today, i sat on the floor of my hallway and talked to my dad

i like how he treats me as though i might possibly have something of importance to say

i like how patient and composed he is, as contrasted to my whimsical, capricious firing of questions and musings

self possesion vs. impulse; it makes for compelling conversation

i found out that he was sick during high school, and missed an entire year of school. but he lived in new york city, and since everyone else was in school he spent his days wandering the city, meandering into museums and art galleries, shows and cafes, and everything else a city has to offer. missing a year of school for illness seems less than desirable-- but a year of free time in new york? sounds golden

then we got up and carried outside his old sleek road-bicycle. it took about 10 Lysol cleansing towel-things to clean it. its a rich red color, once you wipe off the years, and its light and lithe and swift and i want to go for a bike ride

what makes certain people amazing? i feel like part of this must be the fact that there are average people to compare them too. but then i meet more "average" people, and i think they are amazing too. i want to meet every remarkable, fascinating person in the world. but i dont want to find out that our common, universal amazing-ness is what makes us all average.

this is my mental conundrum of the day :)

"Ramblin' where to begin,

I taste the summer on your peppery skin"

SUMMERSONG. THE DECEMBERISTS

Hurrah! it is finally the summer that i have not been looking forward to at all!

i dont mean this like im not going to enjoy my summer. i mainly mean this to mean that school represented 6 hours a day of effortless experience. like, it was inevitable that i would at least learn something new/some new side of someone/meet someone new. but summer requires me to actually try. like theres 8 weeks of possibility stretched out before me, and its neither reaching to me or running away. i have to take the initiative to do something with it

summer life has been an endless cycle of my moms old CDs

since my only computer with working speakers has broken. at

first i considered that a tragedy, until my love for paul simon,

david bowie, the clash, and billy bragg& wilco was completely

rekindled. i am sad to say that i listened to my old backstreet

boys CD as well, when i had exhausted the supply of my

moms. im sad to say that i still greatly enjoyed it!

im not going to list all the infinite details of the past couple

days that i have been unfaithful to this blog because that

would be boring to everyone but me, and possibly the people

involved. but in summery: (haha i just spelled summary

wrong, but i like the irony so im going to keep that)

-- take every chance you can to meet a new person.

meeting just one, single other person opens up another world to you, just as huge and all-encompassing and complicated and interesting and pained and beautiful as it feels like your own life is. if i could just meet at least one new person each day.. id be so worldly :) despite my lack of traveling

--take the risk to be the vulnerable one to someone. because everyone is human, and (this is just my belief, i could be completely wrong) everyone just wants to love and be loved in return. the more love you give out, gets returned to you with extra, and then you have more to give, and get, and give ... its a cycle. i am cringing at my corny-ness right now, but thats how i feel

my dad told me yesterday "you fall in love with something new everyday". i hope i never ever ever ever stop!

"tenuous at best
was all he had to say, when pressed about
the rest of it
(the world that is)"
TENUOUSNESS. ANDREW BIRD




finals today were an endless cycle of telling myself "your entire life rests on this grade" and "screw this!". neither extreme is a productive attitude, and resulted in my mind basically going blank, with the continual the resounding hiss of stresssssssssssssssssssssss in the back of my head, somewhere behind my eyes..

if i could advise you one thing, itd be to take a nap! today i wrapped myself up in twenty thousand billowing blue blankets and fell into one of the most gratifying rests i've ever had. words cannot express the new affection i have found for my bed. i awoke in a panicked state of delirium when my mom went running through the house, slamming doors and shouting "emily?! emily?!" believing me to be missing. her worry was touching, and i hadnt heard such a raw note of fear in her voice for a while. usually my mom has trouble admitting when she is scared of me (me growing up, or my opinion of her, etc) because that means vulnerability, but today she embraced it, as she ripped off my covers and flung her arms around me. "ive found you!"

its nice to be needed, but it was actually scary for me to be the need-ee, rather than the needer. i am now bigger than my mom. our new fit is unfamiliar to me still.

im currently contemplating whether or not i do better when i have a clear mind and give educated guesses to questions (also known as, getting a good nights sleep tonight) versus having studied really thoroughly, but having a pounding headache throughout the exam that dulls my clarity and results in long periods of time where i sit there, static, staring blindly at the questions. (which would describe last night and today quite explicitly)

ill probably end up staying up late again, because im too chicken to leave anything to chance, and id feel less guilty if i put in an honest effort and failed, than if i slept well and failed. both are the same result, but its hard for me to do something without trying.

"cigarettes and lies, I am a child

its too soon"

HOTEL SONG. REGINA SPEKTOR

i used the above lyrics on my art final today.

"as if you could kill time without injuring eternity"

ive been trying to live more deliberately. i believe all of us have somewhat injured eternity before... but i wonder if its resilient enough to heal.

resilient would be a nice thing to be

i just wanted to say this quickly;

it was spending yesterday in boston that made my feelings tangible, and so clearly obvious that love for one anothers' true selves transcends any human weakness, or fear of vulnerability.

in about an hour i am going to joeys house with my family. family friendships are wonderful, wholesome things, especially since his family amazes me. and then im going to walk from my house and meet Beck in the middle. as the sun is setting, we will wander the railroad tracks and hopefully dip our feet in the pond until its dark.

" and how, how i wish i, i had talked to them,

and i wish they fit into the plan

and we were tired of being mild

we were so tired of being mild

and we were tired..."

TABLES AND CHAIRS. ANDREW BIRD

Yasou! Now you know how to greet people in Greek! (thanks for that flickr... your language of the day makes me feel a tad bit more cultural)

just as a pre-cursor to this entry, id like to say that i am tirelessly in awe of the world. insatiably so. i could eat it up and never be full. ever!

its people, perhaps, that amaze me the most. the infinitivity (im using my artistic liscense and creating a word here) of them, and we all have so much to offer to this world. i wonder why i think so much about my life, when i learn so much more when i listen to others talk about their own lives. and being in boston surrounded by thousands other souls, each as complex and intricate as i believe myself to be.. i think im going to live in a city when im older, or ill go crazy. cities are where it becomes most clear to me; i realize my life as this line that ive been following, a straight one it seems since im looking straight down on it. but then sourounded by so many others, i realized they are each doing exactly the same thing, and there are billions of other lines of lives in this world, and in that city i was surrounded by a great diversity of them. it hit me that my line is not straight at all, its curved and twisted and has its peaks and hollows, that all run parallel, perpendicular, or touches lightly the crisscrossed lines of a thousand other lives, all brought together for this one random two-hour event one night. i need to look up more, i then thought, because im missing out on seeing the pattern of so many other lines than cross mine without even me noticing... and im sure these lines of our worlds come together into a stunning masterpiece of our entire universe, yet i wouldnt know for sure. i havent completely looked up yet. (but im beginning to peek, i hope thats a start.)

and then i thought that i owe it all to andrew bird for bringing these thousands lively, light and thriving lives into my consciousness, and how amazing he must feel to be able to bring together so many with the power of his unifying music. and he was up there talking about eating a brain, becoming an animal and described a transluscent pulsating jellyfish-- and when he sang he unharnessed this passion that his own lyrics awake in him, and he thrashed around on the stage, his personal form of dancing, to the striking notes of his lilting, distinctive whistle. ive never wanted to be able to whistle more in my life. and i worshipped him for a majority of the concert, before wondering if maybe he was a normal, faulted human just like everyone i was surrounded by.

but ive decided thats not possible, and hes an exception to the universal law of human-averageness.

wow i probably make no sense. ill blame it on the fact that its very very late. or very early depending on how you look at it. i might delete this post once i get some sleep, re-read it, and find out im slightly mentally insane.

maybe.

"I should not talk so much about myself if there were any body else whom i knew as well. Unfortunately, I am confined to this theme by the narrowness of my experience.... Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look through each other's eyes for an instant?"

-- WALDEN. THOREAU

"but restlessness is causeless and i cannot hide so much of my soul that spills outside"

SUMMERTIME CLOTHES. ANIMAL COLLECTIVE

helloo :)
ive read somewhere this quote that said "happiness is only real when shared" and at first i hated it, because there are a lot of things that i enjoy that i keep to myself. i interpreted it to mean that there couldnt be any joy in solitude, which would mean there was no self-fufillment. and that meant that all the little things i delight in on my own was only a false sense of happiness, and if that was correct, id be a much different person than i had formerly held myself to be.

but now im thinking that maybe this quote is just about how happiness is something that shouldnt be kept to oneself, its something that grows exponentially the more you give out; something that needs to be communicated. and reason #1 for my starting of this blog is that i want to learn to communicate better.

what i think/write, what i do, and what i say seem to be three entirely different entities sometimes. i do not mean to say i am two-faced or fake, i mean that i have different mindsets when im with people or when im alone. when im thinking or when im talking. id like to connect these three pieces of me, and possibly this will bring me further to becoming one complete person. because im far from complete at the moment. as most people are
i dont believe practice makes perfect, but i have no other way i can think of (at the moment) of becoming better at communicating. im going to start with explaining something that makes me happy.

i have gone for a run every day for the past week and taken a right turn out of my driveway instead of a left. its so refreshing to change things often. by some beautiful coincidence, my run has been right as the sun is setting every night. as i conquer the first hill, random rays strike from behind the tangled tree limbs and blind me. i run by this very large lake everyday too, and it looks on fire when the sun sets, radiant and its reflections are scintillating and i have the deepest urging just to jump in. i swear i would have if i hadnt been alone. this experience would not be complete without listening to neighborhood #1 by arcade fire though, which i think is the most inspiring and amazing song there is, especially in the beginning even when there is no singing. i feel like im running straight through the neighborhood that the lyrics describe, and then the next song to come on is neighborhood #3 and immediately the power goes out (please listen to the song if you dont understand that reference) which goes along perfectly since usually the sun has set by now and it actually is dark. (dont have any dreams dont have any plans)

currently, i am drinking tahitian vanilla hazelnut tea which is urging me to finish my homework. tomorrow i am going to boston to see andrew bird. i promise my blogs will get more interesting as keep going (starting is always the thing that im worst at). i have the weirdest sensation of talking to myself, since im not sure anyone actually reads this. i might go to bed before midnight for the first time this week.

maybe.