I used to consider myself a very home-oriented person. I like having a cozy place to retreat to at the end of the day, and I take comfort in knowing everything will be just as I left it. I've always loved traveling and seeing other places, but actually living there - sleeping in strange beds, drinking strange water - was always a struggle.
I'm not sure if it's a result of living at school or just growing up, but lately I've been drawn to traveling. There is something in me that longs for the movement and the unpredictability. A voice in the back of my mind telling me to just go. To get on a bus or a train, with only a backpack and some cash, and just go.
I think that's what they call wanderlust.
It's not that I don't like where I live now, or my life, my friends. It's not that I need to find anything I am missing. It's that I need to look for things. I need to look for things that make me happy, for things that make me sad. For things that scare me and things that thrill me. I need to seek these things out because who knows if they would come to me, if I just sat here and waited.
I guess some of it is also independence. Not so much that I want more of it, but I need to prove that I can handle it. If I convince myself that I don't need anyone else, that I can handle doing everything alone, then maybe I will let myself be not-alone, sometimes.
Of course there is another part of me that always steps in, brings me back to reality. School. Family. Money. Having a guaranteed roof over my head. All reasons I use to stop myself from taking off and never looking back. I know a day will come when these barriers no longer exist, when the gate is open and nobody is there to close it in my face. I'm waiting for that day, but I'm not quite sure what will happen when it does.
But this feeling is fleeting, and some days I don't even feel like leaving my bed, let alone the city. I know it will never completely disappear, though. I don't think I'd ever want to stop wandering, or dreaming about wandering.
Goodnight, bloglings
Sunday 24 February 2013
Monday 18 February 2013
Week 7: Puppy Kisses and Other Things that Make Everything OK
Hey gang. So after a week that included midterms, a stomach virus, postponed midterms, frozen planes and delayed flights, I am finally on vacation. And just in time too, because I'm pretty sure a few more days of stress like that would have actually triggered some sort of breakdown.
You know how there are certain feelings that you wait for, and know exactly how they will feel, and when they finally happen you just want to sit still for a moment and block out the world? Because even though it has happened before and will happen again, each time seems, for an instant, like the most special thing that will ever happen to you.
These feelings include:
- finally submitting that essay that has been plaguing you for weeks
- standing outside at night, watching the snow fall in big soft flakes from the sky
- the ache in your stomach from laughing until you almost run out of oxygen
-stretching out in bed on a Sunday morning, knowing you don't have to get up anytime soon
-getting slobbery puppy kisses after months of pet-deprivation
-the delay between making eye contact across a room with someone you've been missing, and the moment you finally get to hug them
...among other things.
I sometimes try and freeze these moments in my mind, take an emotion-picture, if you will, so that I can remember them in crisp detail when things aren't going so well. Of course, this never really works. And until science perfects the downloading of our minds into computer chips (or the digital pensieve, as I like to call it), we will just have to be content with knowing. Because knowing that these moments exist is what keeps us going - it's what gets us from the darkest times all the way to the light.
And that means that even though things are often far, far, from ok, as long as we know that ok is out there, we can keep on going.
I hope that anyone else who is not-ok remembers that there are puppy kisses out there - you just have to hang in there.
Goodnight, bloglings
You know how there are certain feelings that you wait for, and know exactly how they will feel, and when they finally happen you just want to sit still for a moment and block out the world? Because even though it has happened before and will happen again, each time seems, for an instant, like the most special thing that will ever happen to you.
These feelings include:
- finally submitting that essay that has been plaguing you for weeks
- standing outside at night, watching the snow fall in big soft flakes from the sky
- the ache in your stomach from laughing until you almost run out of oxygen
-stretching out in bed on a Sunday morning, knowing you don't have to get up anytime soon
-getting slobbery puppy kisses after months of pet-deprivation
-the delay between making eye contact across a room with someone you've been missing, and the moment you finally get to hug them
...among other things.
I sometimes try and freeze these moments in my mind, take an emotion-picture, if you will, so that I can remember them in crisp detail when things aren't going so well. Of course, this never really works. And until science perfects the downloading of our minds into computer chips (or the digital pensieve, as I like to call it), we will just have to be content with knowing. Because knowing that these moments exist is what keeps us going - it's what gets us from the darkest times all the way to the light.
And that means that even though things are often far, far, from ok, as long as we know that ok is out there, we can keep on going.
I hope that anyone else who is not-ok remembers that there are puppy kisses out there - you just have to hang in there.
Goodnight, bloglings
Monday 11 February 2013
Week 6: Midterms and Losing my Sanity
So if you are also of the post-secondary education persuasion, you will be familiar with the special time of year that is now upon us. It's been just long enough to settle back into the routine of school and start to figure out new classes, and KA-BLAM, it's time for a few solid weeks of torture.
The thing about midterms is that it isn't even really a few solid weeks. They started happening the last week of January and can go on until the second week of March. But for me, these next five days before the break are crunch time.
Which is why this week's post is going to be short, just a quick chronicle of my descent into midterm madness.
The last week or so I've been able to feel my body slowly break down because of the stress. Hardly enough sleep due to studying, and half the time I'm kept awake with mini-panic attacks anyways. No time to grocery shop, so I can't remember the last time I saw any fresh fruit. And to top it off, everyone around me is sick, so it's just a matter of time before I succumb to that as well.
Reading week really can't come soon enough. But until it does, I have studying, reading, essay-writing, diagram-building, grammar-checking and note-taking to do.
I guess there really isn't anything else I can do but Gryffindor the fuck up, and get through this madness. And hey, if it doesn't kill me, it will make me stronger, right?
To be honest, I think I'd settle for it just not killing me.
Goodnight, bloglings
The thing about midterms is that it isn't even really a few solid weeks. They started happening the last week of January and can go on until the second week of March. But for me, these next five days before the break are crunch time.
Which is why this week's post is going to be short, just a quick chronicle of my descent into midterm madness.
The last week or so I've been able to feel my body slowly break down because of the stress. Hardly enough sleep due to studying, and half the time I'm kept awake with mini-panic attacks anyways. No time to grocery shop, so I can't remember the last time I saw any fresh fruit. And to top it off, everyone around me is sick, so it's just a matter of time before I succumb to that as well.
Reading week really can't come soon enough. But until it does, I have studying, reading, essay-writing, diagram-building, grammar-checking and note-taking to do.
I guess there really isn't anything else I can do but Gryffindor the fuck up, and get through this madness. And hey, if it doesn't kill me, it will make me stronger, right?
To be honest, I think I'd settle for it just not killing me.
Goodnight, bloglings
Sunday 3 February 2013
Week 5: My Best Friend
Just a forewarning: this post is going to get sappy.
My first month of high school, I met someone who changed my life. Over the next four years, we would spent nearly every weekend and all summer holidays together. Through the highs and the lows, the twists and the turns, she was my constant.
She helped me figure out so much about myself. What I was good at, what I was afraid of, and what I needed to do to face those fears. She encouraged me to push myself, but always let me know whenever I took anything too far.
She made me feel strong, and held me up when I was weak. She taught me how important it is to fight for the things you believe in, the things you love.
We are both headstrong, independent and chronically lazy. We've certainly had our fair share of disagreements, but I think what we have is strong enough to weather anything. Sometimes we do stupid things, things we probably shouldn't. People call us crazy, but we sure do have some amazing memories to show for it.
The summer after graduation, I spent as much time with her as possible. It didn't matter if we weren't actually doing anything - just hanging out was enough. Goofing off, pulling silly stunts, and enjoying the sunshine and the seemingly endless days.
When September came, it was time to say goodbye. The sadness was mingled with nerves, an eagerness to see what was over the next rise. This time though, we wouldn't be racing towards it together.
Away at school, new friends and new experiences flooded my mind, but nothing could stop me from missing her. Nothing can, even now. Sometimes it overwhelms me, how much I wish I could see her, spend even a few minutes just being close to her.
It's a cliché, but it really does feel like a part of me is missing. Or at least, a part of my heart. I have this spot, this part of my chest that just feels...empty. An aching empty, one that strains and pulls, trying to make its way back to its missing piece. Of course I get to see her over the holidays, but until then, I remain incomplete. A puzzle missing that last chunk of sky.
The thing is, though, that none of this, none of it, can change the fact that four years ago, I met someone who changed my life. Despite the sadness, the emptiness, the missing-ness, despite all of that - I am so glad I did.
If we had never crossed paths, I don't know who I would be - but I wouldn't be as strong, as brave, as confident, as crazy as I am today.
Goodnight, bloglings
My first month of high school, I met someone who changed my life. Over the next four years, we would spent nearly every weekend and all summer holidays together. Through the highs and the lows, the twists and the turns, she was my constant.
She helped me figure out so much about myself. What I was good at, what I was afraid of, and what I needed to do to face those fears. She encouraged me to push myself, but always let me know whenever I took anything too far.
She made me feel strong, and held me up when I was weak. She taught me how important it is to fight for the things you believe in, the things you love.
We are both headstrong, independent and chronically lazy. We've certainly had our fair share of disagreements, but I think what we have is strong enough to weather anything. Sometimes we do stupid things, things we probably shouldn't. People call us crazy, but we sure do have some amazing memories to show for it.
The summer after graduation, I spent as much time with her as possible. It didn't matter if we weren't actually doing anything - just hanging out was enough. Goofing off, pulling silly stunts, and enjoying the sunshine and the seemingly endless days.
When September came, it was time to say goodbye. The sadness was mingled with nerves, an eagerness to see what was over the next rise. This time though, we wouldn't be racing towards it together.
Away at school, new friends and new experiences flooded my mind, but nothing could stop me from missing her. Nothing can, even now. Sometimes it overwhelms me, how much I wish I could see her, spend even a few minutes just being close to her.
It's a cliché, but it really does feel like a part of me is missing. Or at least, a part of my heart. I have this spot, this part of my chest that just feels...empty. An aching empty, one that strains and pulls, trying to make its way back to its missing piece. Of course I get to see her over the holidays, but until then, I remain incomplete. A puzzle missing that last chunk of sky.
The thing is, though, that none of this, none of it, can change the fact that four years ago, I met someone who changed my life. Despite the sadness, the emptiness, the missing-ness, despite all of that - I am so glad I did.
If we had never crossed paths, I don't know who I would be - but I wouldn't be as strong, as brave, as confident, as crazy as I am today.
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