I can always hear the song about you and where you're meant to be

Thanks for all the comments! I'm waist-deep in exam-mania, but just to reassure you- I will return in a few weeks. In the meanwhile, I discovered one distraction that I thought I would share- here is a really silly mish-mosh of songs that have been keeping me company as I traumatize myself with learning the logistics of the normal delivery of parasites babies. If I had such power that I could start a meme, I would ask each of you to make your own muxtape and link to it in the comments, so we could have an endless listening party.

with everything changing, how am I to know

Here's the deal. I'm going to skip out on blogging for a bit, in case that was not already abundantly clear. I'll return in a few short weeks, when I get a temporary respite from classes, to see if there is anything I really have to say.

See, I don't want to putter away at it anymore. One of the reasons I am so bad at keeping in touch with close friends (B, I know I owe you a minimum of two lengthy emails!) is that I do not like doing things half-a$$ed, despite a world of evidence to the contrary. I find I have to immerse myself in something or someone to determine whether I really want it. That can be hard when you're on the receiving end, as it appears as though I am running hot and then cold.

And then there are the things that follow out of convenience and habit, and those are the things I fear. I've bucked some friendships over the past year, and am currently excising myself from a few developing friendships because I see why they've evolved, and they're not the right reasons. They were a product of living in a hot neighborhood that people frequented or coveted, or of sharing the same coworkers, or (nowadays) of sharing the same classmates or class schedule. Some of that is inevitable. But the process of sussing out the gems (because there are some) from the cubic zirconium (of which there are far more) is not simple, especially when time is in short supply and spent pondering much less introspective matters.

It's been like that with all sorts of other things too- baking, cooking, knitting, blogging, staying healthy. It sounds awfully stupid when written down like that, but there are a finite number of things one can put their effort into while in this sort of educational process. Everyone makes choices, exchanges out some things for others. I'm lucky in that I came into school with certain sources of peace, because school is not the place to cultivate such hobbies. But nevertheless, the adage holds true- you can't have it all.

And then there is also the small, inconsequential matter of honesty, of authenticity. Except that it's not so small, not so inconsequential.

But I don't want to answer any of these questions right now, not when I feel like figuring it out is a luxury. And so, this is what I'm hoping to do. When I return, I will write as frequently as I can, as regularly as I can, because I will have the time for it. If nothing of any interest comes out, if I still feel I'm writing a bunch of cryptic nonsense, then at least I'll know a natural end has been reached. Regardless, for any of you who have been reading, I have appreciated your patience, not to mention all the kindness you have showered over me in the past years.

please don't break the swing of my favorite rocking chair

Do you know it's National Poetry Month? It turns out, I may have needed it. I have been thinking a lot about writing, and why I haven't been able to say much lately. Instead of boring everyone to tears with that, let me reference this:

Language
by W.S. Merwin

Certain words now in our knowledge we will not use again, and we will never forget them. We need them. Like the back of the picture. Like our marrow, and the color in our veins. We shine the lantern of our sleep on them, to make sure, and there they are, trembling already for the day of witness. They will be buried with us, and rise with the rest.

Sometimes I feel this way about everything. But if you feel this way about everything, then what is left?

A lot more is left. But so much of what I feel these days is strange to articulate. Who can explain the satisfaction of supermarkets stocking tangelos? Who can explain the arresting sight of the rolling green hills of the East Bay- how can it still squeeze the heart when it's been seen so many times, and so much else in the world has been seen that supersedes it? How to write- I discovered I do not care for arugula today? How to say I feel a sense of peace that can only come from setting aside hours for no one else but me?