my History of Feeling

My collection of intangible beautiful things.

[comewhat-comemay-blog]

Today was one of those days that is easy to forget, because nothing spectacular happened, but so so worth remembering. I fall more in love with life and the adults my friends are becoming every day.

[comewhat-comemay-blog]

I may still look like I'm 17, but I'm graduating college and that's pretty exciting.

[aseaofquotes]

Patti Callahan Henry, Between the Tides

[ponderation]

Chiapas is green by Michele Marrucci

[switching-to-glide]

[misswallflower]

[basdos]

[comewhat-comemay-blog]

Today my back lay flat on the floor and my eyes stared at a medium black square in the ceiling of our classroom. There were about 40 of us in the same position. I wonder how many people stared at that square. We were pushing our diaphragms in and out, attempting to bellow out a West African song in response to the drums and the voice of Mo, my teacher. 

My mind wander to the guy who tied his shoes in front of me as I walked to this class. His jeans were a little too big. When he sauntered off, they sagged slightly. Possibly why he was so concerned about the laces.

Thirty minutes previous to that encounter, a girl sat next to me on her laptop as my hip social psych teacher discussed Conformity and Authority Figures. She was on Facebook. I don’t think she was taking it much to heart. 

An hour previous to that, I spent 20 minutes looking up Nikki Sixx’s social media. He was the bassist for Mötley Crüe, an 80s rock band. Mmhmm. I’ve been reading The Heroin Diaries, his documentation 

Here I am, craving interaction. I want to know the average percentage of how many daily human interactions people remember.

[comewhat-comemay-blog]

Life Snippets

Making a gigantic conga line around a piano bar with parents and students alike. Family weekends are cute in college.

Friendships where sex is a common topic. Relationships where faith is the common thread. Connections where my heart is bare every time. Moments where I hide and thrive secretly.

Spontaneous rock climbing, beer at a brewery and pizza at my favorite local place. All with brilliant weather!

A birthday party for the guy with one of the most opposite personalities from my own who still understands me better than most. We did a play together in high school. I was present during his first kiss. Those kitsch memories.

He said fuck again and again. I say damn, he says fuck (when he’s had some alcohol). We hugged finally, like our ridiculous 2-3 hugs per year tradition dictates.

Going to the botanical gardens with my parents and being surrounded by bamboo and butterflies. Smelling fresh rosemary and peppermint. Stumbling upon an arts festival with dozens of booths full of art. Eating all natural smoothies and falafel nachos.

Craving physical intimacy so much that I find myself bumping into people more. Walking to class and having to stop and close my eyes, because my body feels a deficit in touch. It soaks up the sun in efforts to forget how long it’s been since I’ve snuggled.

White top, blue jeans and brown leather shoes every single day. Plus an alcoholic beverage, a cube of dark chocolate and a prayer or two.

[comewhat-comemay-blog]

Sometimes you have a small-to-giant-depending-on-the-day crush on a seemingly perfect hipster-Spanish-literature-loving-coffee-drinking-boy for three-ish years. 

You’ve never actually talked. So senior year, you figure out a way to get him to notice you. You finally talk (like four times). It actually goes well (for those accumulative 10 minutes). 

You impulsively and awkwardly ask him to a date function in person. HE SAYS YES.

For several hours, you freak out, hyperventilate, emotionally respond more than you have in so many years. 

Then you get this weird pit in your stomach. The spell is broken. What if he’s just a pretentious, boring, completely conservative hufflepuff…?

SURPRISE. WE WILL NEVER KNOW. He bails. An hour before the function begins.

Friends....the reality of my night? My loyal, loving barista friend opened my favorite coffeehouse after hours just for me. We drank honey lavender tea, studied into the early morning and went home. No spell, no magic from my "sometimes" crushes. But a lot of consistent conversation and honest questioning and love from my always friends.

[wordsnquotes]

If we’re going to talk, then let’s talk. Forget about what is polite or proper and delve right into what is sincere and honest. Lead me down through the labyrinth of your true, spectacular self. I am not interested in pleasantries. If you want a conversation, then let’s get lost.

Beau Taplin, Real Talk (via thatkindofwoman)

[comewhat-comemay-blog]

Welp. The last week of my life can be summed up in two words: Jesus and tequila. 

[paris2london]

(via Donald Martiny)

[comewhat-comemay-blog]

Of course the weekend I am supposed to be up and helping people stand for 26.2 hours is the weekend I am given crutches and a boot for the first time in my life. 😅 Life.

[comewhat-comemay-blog]

It is so annoying when I am discussing how beautiful a woman is and my friends respond by reassuring me that I am beautiful too. ??? 

I know that. That’s not the point. Commenting on someone else’s beauty does not mean I am diminishing my own... 

[comewhat-comemay-blog]

When did this happen -

This lack of sleep due to scheduling, every hour and minute accounted for. I try to distract myself with stupid and shallow media in order to turn my brain off and let some relief creep into my body. It doesn’t.

This whirlwind of weeks, the semester flying by without giving me the chance to tell my loved ones that they are loved by this mess.

I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I want to say.

I need a hug, please hug me, please hug me, please hug me, I want to say.

I stare out of tired eyes and fight to remain calm in the midst of it all, it’s really not bad, you’ve done this before, you’ll be fine, you’re always fine, stay calm, stay calm. Ask questions, always ask questions so that you don’t have to talk. Discuss shallow things, reference a small antidote, ask another question, you don’t have the energy for this. 

I’ve gotten close to admitting that I’m cracking once. “I didn’t ask for this,” I say as I meagerly reach to turn off the light and leave the room so that my roommate can fall asleep. I have a few more hours of work ahead. It’s close to 1 am.

She stares and softly but firmly says, “Yes, you did ask for this. But you shouldn’t have.”

[uyesurana]

Roses by Nicole Pletts