it was fun.
"how long does it take you to go to the bathroom, on average?"
(we all write down our answers and pass them in)
"ok. the first one says . . . it's flatulates. fajita day!"
"wait. ben. that says fluctuate."
"oh."
and then, aunt wendy burst into a fit of laughter that lasted for a good ten minutes, causing the rest of us to laugh until we cried because she was still bent over in the corner wiping her eyes after the next turn.
oh my.
anyway. my skin is all post-bath loveliness, i have one of my favorite old crumplysoft t-shirts on and i think it's time i attempted to describe what it feels like to be home. or rather what it feels like to be home at this particular moment, because it depends. but. it is two o'clock in the morning and that is when my best communication happens. also, i slept in the car all day, and therefore am not very tired.
usually car rides are a wonderful time to stop and think about my life and day dream, staring out the window with my music of the day blaring in my ears. i find that i've had a lot of time to think for the past three months, however, and i think i'm tired of thinking. not to say that i'm planning on stopping anytime soon, i just need to think outward, if that makes sense. i need to interact and screw up and then go think on my own. i need my thinking to be an exploration of a response to someone or something, as opposed to an exposition of some dark corner of my soul. not that those two don't go together, in fact, they should go together - the response leads to the dark corner because it is a reflection of it, but i've been so introspective that i've stopped responding to people, sometimes. not to mention that self-examination gets very tiring after a bit, and i've never been good with self-motivation anyway.
i'm just a little stale. it's like writer's block for soul-searching. sometimes you just can't. slash don't want to.
i've spent plenty of quality time with myself and it's time for some outside input. which translates into me being the most ready to go back to school that i've ever been, though i am glad i've had an adjustment period at home before i do - i think that school right after england would have led to a dive into carelessness, to be honest. a daisy-like carelessness, a distraction carelessness. not that i haven't started to fall into that at home anyway, but the level of recklessness would have been greater at school, i think. with recklessness referring to my disregard of conviction. my unwillingness to identify my weaknesses. it's like a blindness to them, really, like i just can't see them - i block them out.
aw. too bad. i guess i'll have to be smug for a little while.
which i hate, honestly honestly i hate it when i get to this part. although being arrogant is quite lovely in its own ego fluffing sort of way. i would be lying if i said i didn't enjoy it just as i hate it.
it's funny, typing about this, because i didn't realize that it was bothering me. apparently it is, depending on one's opinion of the importance of the subconscious. i haven't decided how exactly i feel about it: telling, but fairly easy to overcome, i've found. well, i should say fairly easy to muddle up en route to its expression, which makes it's communication unreliable, and potentially inaccurate.
there's a tangent for you.
i'm tired now.
um, in conclusion, that's what it feels like to be home?
ha. this will be a many-part description. and totally disjointed on first examination. but such is life. and my thought processes on it. it all connects somehow, i promise.
good mornin'.
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