I can't seem to write coherent thoughts about what is going on here. I feel by turns prepared and unprepared. Half the time I feel like I am excelling here, on top, excited, ready. The other half is the overwhelmed half. I miss my fucking friends and there is so much to do. I may be drowning in schoolwork. I can't even talk about the next five years. I don't know what will happen. I have a pretty fair idea, I think, but I only have ideas about which I am ambivalent.
This poem is dated 8/16/06. I wrote it when I first got here right after Jai, Derek, Julie and Anna left: before school started.
These experiences are fresh
But my nature feels used to every bit
"If you cannot learn to live,"
He said, and didn't mean me
Though I felt it: the only part
Of the conversation my memory noted
These floors and walls in the
Heat of summer feel liveed-in
As though I've been here on occasions previous
And I have
I was here yesterday
And will be tomorrow
Glazed wood and new paint
Are mine and I must learn to live,
To own, to decide