Summer

I guess I've stopped writing.

I don't know what it is, but my mind and words don't mix as well as they used to. I can no longer communicate anything, really. I feel like nothing in my life is tangible; there is nothing to back things up, nothing really exists. I live like an animal, off of feelings. I'm happy, I'm angry, I'm sad--for no reason at all. My feelings and my environment don't seem like they connect. I've become so detached from reality since I graduated from high school. I don't do anything anymore. I spend six hours wasting away, watching other people live their lives. Theresa got new bubbiez. Celina chose Jason over her parents' choice meat, because she and Jason were meant to be. And while they go on with their lives, I sit there. Waiting for something new to happen, waiting for something to write about.

Downfall

I used to look at you: books in hand, poised walk, and a smile that kills.
You seemed the essence of Perfection.

But when I look at you now: books covering face, unbalanced walk, and a smile of anxiety.

That's when I realized it. Perfection comes with a price.
And by God, you've paid that price- and I can tell you It wasn't worth it.
You're miserable.

The Aunt

I was so frustrated at Nonna. Why does she have to be so freaking officious?



But it isn't like I could escape. And today I stand here at this white-stucco house with dark blue trim covered in ivy. I stand in a place I haven't stood for ten years.

I never thought I would come back here. I dreamed about it, but it was a place in the past-the eight wonder of the world. And as Nonna rings the doorbell, I realize everything the same. I hear the sing-song tune entering the house. I see the coarse, beige carpet with its furniture resembling some library of the Russian nobility. Nothings changed excluding the new flat screen TV and a Guitar Hero console in the den.

But even as I stand in 1998, I can't bring myself to a level of comfort. I stand at the edge of the hall that connects to the family room. And judging by Her glances, I can tell I am not truly welcome here. I was so angry. Sure, this was my parents' fight. But still: how dare I come here and steal their guests? how do I have the audacity to enter this house like nothing happened?

I have to. And I stand by my mom's green Acura MDX. Displaying a smile, ear-to-ear, like I am OK with everything. But as soon as everyone gets settled in the car, I'm stepping on the accelerator and heading back to 2008.

I have so much.



Friends, grades, EIC, PC. I am so fortunate.
God! Very fortunate!


Right now, life is Great. Almost ridiculously Great.

Self-help Book Great.

I accept the impossible, I see the glass half full.

Later, life can be miserable. Rejections, fights, stress.
But that shouldn't faze me. Today is Great.

What do you think will happen next?

The pressure has overtaken me.

I fall to the bed, give a heavy sigh.

"What do you think will happen next?" you said.

"I don't know."

We pause.  Not ready to think, not ready to move on.  It's the only moment of hope we've got; we'll make it last.