2005-07-27
with love
Something tumultuous happened last night.
It was an earthquake. Come around ten o�clock last evening, the earth shook, perhaps as always. But this time I felt it. This is notable. ...Hence the noting.
If life were to take a form, it would likely take on the consistency similar to that of the goop based out of Dr. Seuss novel (novel? sure.) which one can create with cornstarch, H2O, and a secret ingredient. People can use the phrase, �Well, that�s life,�... yes, and so is this. and that. and that. I am not certain of where I was going with this. But life is an incredible, vast, difficult thing; it�s this and that comprised and combined into a vibrantly vivid (well, duh) blend of existence.
When I leave, I shall be gone.
The smell will be different, the tastes and sights and sounds.. but most noticibly and enriching for me will be the feel.
My dad is letting me drive the car to work today. He was really nice about it. That made me feel better.
Anyway(s), (I think making it plural makes in improper, not that it matters) yes, the feel. Every place has its own abstract feel that we assign to it- friends� houses, school, work, church and such.. wherever. The train, Chicago, Michigan.. they are no different. My mind recognizes them as very different places than I am used to, and it tries to absorb the atmosphere (as dumb as that sounds) and enjoy the new and different feelings.
the upward spiral continues.(fourth paragraph here.)
if you have listened to the song �3 AM� by Matchbox 20, you may have noticed that the lyrics are about a girl who wants him to come home because it�s 3 AM. If you listen closer, you can notice that one of the lines say �the clock has been stuck at three for days.� I think that makes all the difference. I like it, though. That song vaguely reminds me of myself.
I am trying to think of things that have happened that I have too lazy to recount. I might as well just blurb it out as best as I can.
rising moon. his eyes in the sun. her hanging up. our nourishing innertube conversation- he held on to mine so we didn�t get separated. an apathetic email. leaning on his shoulder to walk on the rocks. her eyes- olive green? scrumptous meal, by best in a long time. adam�s tree drawing. shiny leg in the hot tub. her marked chest. she had been looking forward to that the most, do you konw how much that means?!? ben humming buddhist chants to me. the kind look in his eyes of understanding. knowing better. the unexpected phone call. lisa�s iris photograph. hippopotanonymous whiteboard drawing at work. top of the list. johnspeak and lizzspeak. jonspeak. sunbathing alone- frontier psychiatrist. julian frappes. her warm love in a smile, innocent at receiving gifts. new august summer plans. i love it.
Today I went to the optometrist�s. My eyes have gotten worse, as always. Yes, I have bad eyes. I am easily legally blind without my contacts, and it is getting hard to have a selection of those to choose from, especially with my astigmatism. My optometrist, Nick, has perfect eyesight and no astigmatism. Ironic? No, not really. I�m an eight or nine in one eye, and about a five in the other. Lasik awaits me. He had me use the machine again, like he did the last time I came in. (whoa, that�s a while ago.)
I asked him if the colour of eyes has any evolutionary or scientific purpose. The best that he could come up with (this sounds like a mean phrase but that is not how it is intended, if you think about it) is that perhaps it could be involved in determining a mate. You know the fibers that span out from the eye? (I have seen some that look like clouds) They are the muscles, the aperture that dialates and, uh, un-dialates the pupils. And we all have different pupil sizes.
I tried to make out with him (huh huh, funny sentence if you ended it right there) the point that people say to others, �oh your eyes are so pretty,� but everyone has pretty eyes if you just look at them! He countered with, �well, yes, but some people have prettier eyes than others.� I know this response and rationale seems obvious, but it never really occured to me. Yes, some do have prettier eyes. �pretty� is probably the wrong way to describe them, anyway. Wonderful. Exquisite. Simply incredible. to see your eyes is a gift for me in itself. I love you.
gone soon. leaving. retract your arms, hands, fingers; the ones grabbing and reaching for something more, scraping the surface of the desired content beyond and trying in more ways than one to GET A GRIP. they are sore. they need a rest. let go, let go of the current grasp. let go and rest. it will be there when you get back. the excursion awaits.
enough of that. But it need to be expressed.
There are so many good possibilities. I love it when she says it like that.
I've been told by four people I love in my life that they will miss me. That means more than anything else they could say upon the situation. I'll miss you, too.
My grandmother's house has a cool, dark basement. I used to be afraid of it when I was younger. There is a piano down there, and lots of old toys. grace (this was last year) will be much older yet still incredibly lovable.
There is a deep sense of anticipation. There always is the night before. I am thriving. It will be so wonderful.
Did you know that when witnessing the sunset from a flat plain region, the sun simply drops below the flat horizon? It is not trying to sneak away, it lets you know that it is leaving. I appreciate it. (talking this way can be so dumb yet rather fun. sooorry, i get self-conscious, even in my own journal, hah- but not always! I remember a few not-self-conscious moments, they were pretty darn fun. yup, i'm good)
follow me if you want to.
This singular event is just a reminder to me of all the opportunities that there are. Chances to be bright, doors slamming open (MAB! ...opposite of �bam,� yay that made my cheeks really lift up), all around us. Embrace the sky. I sung to it tonight! Thanks for being so beautiful and inspiring, I want to give it back, give it up. The journey is ready for me, and I for it. With Love, Lisa.
leesah-likes at 12:24 a.m.