Status Update

Life lately has been disorganized. Sometimes overwhelming, a little more spontaneous than usual, a bit less fulfilling but also a bit more pleasant, much more stressful but more colorful.

I gave blood on the day of my birthday. I heard later on the announcements that each of us donors had probably saved between one and two lives. That was a strange and wonderful feeling.

A couple days before that, I discovered that my last girlfriend, who I once thought I was really in love with, is dating another guy. I haven't talked to her in a while, and I was surprised by how much I didn't care. I didn't feel much of anything. It made me kind of sad, how things change which shouldn't. Some things you think should never change, but they do. I thought one part of me would always be in love with her, but she's out of my thoughts.

I'm reading "Letters to a Young Poet" by Rilke. He asks of his young correspondent essentially, "If you could not write, would you prefer to die?" Only those who answer yes to that question, I think he's suggesting, are truly writers.

I'd like to answer yes, but I'm terrified of death.

My writing has been relatively sporadic and unfulfilling. I write maybe a couple of poems a week, and I do like what I write, but I have yet to become so totally engulfed in my own writing and my own imagination, which is what I've been waiting for for years. Maybe I'm lazy. Or maybe I just don't have it in me.

Also reading Cloud Atlas. It's one of those novels you can get lost in. Read it.

The girl I went to Homecoming with gave me a playlist for my birthday, and it's honestly one of the best gifts I've ever received, because it's so perfect. My favorite song on it is "Young Folks" by Peter, Bjorn, and John. I can't find it today, though, and am freaking out slightly.

I think people are really wonderful--meeting new people and discovering things about them. Or even just getting snapshots of them. I wish I would make an effort to meet more. To have more experiences.

We've been learning about String Theory in physics. It's incredible. I can only begin to understand it on an artistic level, which is a pity because I think it's likely that art, like earth, is very tiny. Physics and mathematics are as large as the Universe and perhaps far larger. Which I guess makes physics the universal poetry. Even if it's emotionless--the Universe is emotionless as well.

I've been sitting out most nights and looking at the stars. I always think I'm going to accomplish something, looking at them, but I never really do, exactly. Except maybe slowing down time, a little. Sometimes I don't think about all the things I remember, but all the things I know I've forgotten. Thinking of all my lost memories. By the time I die, I'll probably have a lifetime of lost memories. Lost moments.

My old piano teacher sent me a packed with Chopin's Nocturnes and Bach's Goldberg Variations. There was a note attached telling me what I meant to him as a student and how much talent he thought I had. I was reading it out to my family and choked up a bit. I've been choking up more often.

actually really sad it's my birthday tomorrow.

ever thought about the fact you'll never be a kid again?

i'm tired of those ancient antics

poesia -en otras lenguas (como gotas de lluvia..)

Todos los dolores ya se van
Y el grafiti dice Peter Pan
Y el zoológico de arcoiris
Arcoirá, arcoirá

En la mañana pienso en mi primo
Y todo lo español que desafino
Que dice cuando el sol sonríe
 Sonreirá, sonreirá

Con tu cara de camello
Toma un bebé tan bello
Cada casa tiene llave
por no saber, por no saber

(All the pains have already gone
And the graffiti says Peter Pan
And the zoo of rainbows
Will rainbow, will rainbow

In the mornings I think about my cousin
And all of the Spanish I get out of tune
That says when the sun smiles
It will smile, it will smile

With your camel face
Take a baby so beautiful
Every house is locked
Because of ignorance, because of ignorance)

-Devendra Banhart

We should look at the stars more often.

Everyone should. As often as they can--lie down on their backs, even if it's on their uncomfortable pavement driveways, and just stare at the sky. And the cold is nipping at your bones and the chilly breeze keeps washing over you, making noises like the ocean. And the lights from house windows are lighting up and then going out silently, like fireflies. Maybe there's even a freight train roaring off in the distance, barely audible.

There's no feeling like there is on that perfect night spent looking up at the stars. When you realize that our planet is just a tiny speck of dust floating around in space. And you're okay with that, for some reason.

There really is nothing like it.

dear god, freeze me in a forever-autumn

with orange leaves forever falling

and ankled feet forever splashing through them

with a tickling breeze forever breezing

and tumbling clouds forever cloudy

and unending eyes forever sparkling with..something

and children’s arms forever reaching

and crinkly faces forever forming crinkly smiles

but not dying

the delicate petals of sky forever stretching

our hearts forever red and salty (secretly)

green forever green, fingers forever fingers,

mountains always and forever mountains

the moon forever implying beautiful promises

the silly sun forever burning

our stars forever twinkling

and not dying

october forever cold, but wonderfully so

and the trees forever whispering whispering

with his or her hands forever skeletal and lovely

eyes forever something with something

please, we insist, a forever autumn

without dying

The productions went so so well. And Homecoming this weekend was actually fun. I ate at a restaurant with valet!! I should despise myself but I don't. It was delicious and classy.

I was Sam. My twin brother was Eric. And a number of people described it as the best high school production they'd ever seen, and that my brother and I made the show. I nearly wet myself with excitement.

It was a bit sad after it was over. My brother and I drove and listened to Andrew Bird and Kimya Dawson and we put the windows down and it was chilly and the leaves are just beginning to turn. Today was sad but wonderful in a bunch of different ways.

Anyway.

Lord of the Flies

The production is tomorrow.

Thespians and movie producers have a talent for butchering literature.

But I'm excited. And nervous.