The comforts of clicking keys.

There are just some times when your thoughts become something more than can be satisfied by sharing them via the sporadic facebook update. Times when you just want to start typing and feel as if you could go on forever. What is it about that sort of writing that makes you need it so sometimes? What is it that calls to you and tells you that, to no specific end, your mind ought to be spoken and read by no one in particular? It's not that I have anything very consequential to say really or even that anyone at all will read these thoughts. But there is just something so wonderfully simple about sending anything and everything you might want to say "into the void" as Meg Ryan put it in You've Got Mail. (Which, I have decided, is probably my all time favorite movie)
I can imagine it's much like the equivalent of a runner just wanting to run away and keep running forever as fast as they can. I've never been much of a runner, but I've always been jealous of them in that aspect. I think it's perfectly beautiful that they can just run. That they can make the world go away until it's just them and the wind.
I've always longed to feel that way about something. I think I'm finally beginning to find it.
I'll write until there's nothing wrong with anything and it's just me and the sound of clicking keys. There's no fear of rejection or disagreement. No need to please or impress. What needs to be said, be it frivolous nothings or heartfelt sentiments, can be said without hesitation. And with all the fervor or passivity one feels proper to express themselves with at the moment.
I think expression of thought is a necessary freedom that's too often forgotten (mostly by me). But I don't just mean thoughts or opinions in general. I mean the kind of thoughts you think when you are left alone with enough time for life and all it's messiness to settle in a bit. Thoughts about what things make you feel when you're able to see them from the outside. The sort of ideas that are rare in conversations between most friends.
Those are the sorts of thoughts I'd like to become better acquainted with.
And just the sort that seem to come almost solely with writing....

ugh

Community College makes me feel like "David after dentist" (google it) minus the drugs and oral surgery. I'm beyond ready to be done. ugh.

Call it a belated new years resolution....

I've come to understand the reality that I will never be the best at anything.
Thus I've resolved to be blissfully content in being anyone's favorite something.

rough starts

how is it that one little thing can make your day go so wrong? I'm not talking about just being an easy antagonist or letting a bad hair day get the best of you. I mean those days when something just sets you off into your own world of thought. that last short straw of human cruelty or injustice that brings back each regret hiding in the back of your mind. what is it about those moments that can make you feel so alone?
...It was really nothing. I got rudely cut off in class by a teacher. A few sypathetic "ouch" glances back from fellow students and it was over. It wasn't the incident, but rather what happened after I think that affected me most. I walked out of class expecting to see the same people I see every tuesday/thursday in the very same place. I would subtly vent and they would provide the friendly consolation and validate my hurt feelings.... cause that's how it's supposed to go down right? except there was no one there. no one at all. not a single familiar face. not even an accquantance. so there I was left alone with my thoughts in a crowded courtyard. eventually making my way across to the language lab, to be left alone with my thoughts and blogger. so many conclusions yet to be typed. but I'm going to be late for class.....

I wish

like deja vu in reverse
I wish I could just look back from where I'll be
and this worry would only be a memory
the kind that lets you laugh in the face of what you feared

years

How is it that I can feel so old and yet so young at the same time?

I feel like my life is flying by and I'm only catching snapshots of the blurred footage. I miss being a kid. I subconsciously dodge responsibilities I'm fully capable of handling because in my heart, I'd much rather live like the lost boys in Peter Pan than take my proper place in what they call the "real world".... Yet then it comes time to fill out another online form for something like this and I scroll down to the bar titled date of birth. And there they are. Those four little numbers, 1989. Tucked right where they should be between 1988 and 1990. And that's when it hits me in the face like a bellyflop from a second story rooftop. This thing called perspective. I select my proper year and move on to the next section of the form. But all I can think about is all those numbers listed after mine. Comparatively, my little date of birth was at the top of the list. As I looked I felt like I had my whole life ahead of me. (sure, most people get that feeling when the graduate high school. I get it from filling out a internet forms) Yet as each day goes by I feel them flying ever faster. The feelings really ought to be conflicting. Yet here they both reside in the corners of my mind that sometimes only blogging reaches.

just a thought
-jess