I know it’s still a ways off, but I am truly of the opinion that the whole thing is going to come to a head at homecoming. Am I hoping this is the case? Yeah, more than a little cause that means I get to see my LI all dolled up. Maybe Dan even comes to, that would be awesome!
Si miro al cielo me siento tan cerca de ti, pero no porque estés en el, si no porque el cielo es infinito y tal vez por casualidad lo estés mirando al mismo tiempo que yo, y por alguna razón puedo imaginar que lo haces, y que de alguna manera nuestras miradas se unen en el.
“When it comes to the Super Bowl, I’m a big fan of sitting by the couch and nibbling on a table full of delicious snacks. What are my favorite snacks you ask? Nachos. Sweet potato nachos to be more specific. Layer them with all of your favorite toppings and stack ‘em however you’d like!”
Now, I know what you are thinking; dramatic girl with too much time on her hands, wears too much grey but never black like her coffee likes to make her life seem like more than it is, likes to call for attention in ways that every other girl has before her still in the hopes that someone will see the stoplight out, the darkness at her intersection and stop instead of speeding up, trying not to get hit by all of the supposed monsters lurking- I promise, that is not what this story is.
I have died many times and here is how I know, every night for the past several weeks I have been waking up from a deep sleep never at the same time so I cannot pinpoint a detail for you, sometimes it is 2:01 a.m. other times it is four o’clock in the morning and once it was a single minute before 7 and I caught my alarm in the moments before it went blaring
though I have always had a fixation on time it does not matter in this instance, time is irrelevant because in my dreams minutes feel like years, I am waking up from whole lifetimes lived with my heart beating louder in my ears than a thousand horses hooves on a battlefield, and I can almost tell you what that sounds like as it fades from another dream- I died in a stampede on Wednesday.
It is always different, always unexpected burning in a house that feels like home but looks so unfamiliar to what my waking self knows, sinking to the bottom of a river that feels like an old baptism, stabbed, starved, left behind in the middle of a pastoral pick up where the nomadic society was moving spontaneously and I could not fend for myself in the sea of grass, drifting off to sleep as an old woman and waking up in my skin again.
and I would call it a fixation on death, many of you will, but they feel like memories. like a part of myself trying to reach out to convey something that I don’t yet understand, I keep reaching for an answer and I can only hope that all of these lives, all of these deaths, all of these maybe-memories-maybe-dreams mean: live your life to the fullest and don’t forget the things that make you human.”