My Italian Teacher

scared the shit out of me.

Old Tomes

Just found some stuff in this spiral I used to love. I wanted it to be that special spiral. But unfortunately I picked one of the normal school ones that only last about four months before they start to rip apart. It's pretty much dying now.
But sometimes coming back to things, it's like seeing them newly. And I forget what I was like. Am I still like that?
Well something that sounded nice:

"listening to the sweet somber blue of the song picking the dust off my stale memories
I want to wrap the cool wind around me like a feather down comforter, I can feel the depth in the ruffling calm and I feel safe to my bones, which stop rattling in the dry brittle air"

My door is open.
...oooohhh it smells like fall.

Walk Through I Walk Do I Walk

Yesterday I took a walk for what felt like the first time in years. It sounds stupid and cliche, but I didn't realize how long it had been. Or more like I had forgotten that I used to take walks, all the time actually. I used to take off my shoes and walk barefoot, up our driveway, across the street (it hurt a little after it was repaved) and down the sidewalk. I remember the part of the sidewalk that was cracked and had some sort of weird sludge dried on it from the drainage leaking out of someone's lawn. And how sometimes I would step on pieces of the asphalt from the street, but it only really hurt when it was on your heel. I remember the place where the sidewalk stops abruptly, at the top of the hill, I guess because there's a fire hydrant or something. And the limestone. Like a tiny cliff. Remembering how this place didn't used to be enormous houses and manicured lawns you can't even roll in because of all the chemicals they use to make them green.

But my point here isn't making some environmental statement.

I took a walk and just let myself think, and I touched some plants, saw a cat and petted it. It's funny how you can just do that, walk up to a cat and pet it, and it just purrs and closes its eyes into little slits. It accepts the love of anyone who comes by, lets them give what they want to give and then lets them go.

I kept walking and ended up at a park, this one specific park I used to go to all the time last year especially when I was upset. I haven't really been there in a while. There were people with their kids running around and playing. Of course, because it's a park. I went on the swings. I love swings. And there's something so comforting about them. Maybe, I think, it's because they remind you of that feeling of rocking, your mom holding you in a rocking chair and holding you tight. How when you're little, and your mom is holding you, everything is still, silent, good, safe.
But I go on the swings a lot. Any time I can. It's strange too, that even though they are comforting, they still have this edge of danger, like when I close my eyes and suddenly feel like I'll never stop falling. It happens sometimes even when my eyes are open, when I look behind me. Maybe I have a general fear of things rushing away from me. The ground, the sky, people.

So I sat on the swings and went back and forth. For a long time. I think it helps thinking. I thought about all the different times I had been to this park, and how this place really didn't mean anything at all. You being there makes it mean something. One of the first times I was in the park was with my sister, just laying in the grass, in the sun. Silent, still, safe. The air was a little cold. When you stand up, you have grass on your back and in your hair.
A lot of times I came there and sat on the swings and thought and cried. I thought my way through my life and my existence and the present and I felt better.

I started thinking about things that had happened. And realized, who's to say these things happened? They're just in my head. there's nothing holding onto them except me. If I forgot, they wouldn't exist. But should I always remember? Is it okay for things to fade? It leaves questions. Holes. Then you have to fill them in later again. I don't want to be just constantly re-realizing. I want to build upon myself and my time, climb and build. Construct. But not plan. Just sketches. I guess for now I can use what I still have to remember. Re-member. To member again. Am I membering now? And then later add re-?

But I wonder. Am I still the same person? Is everyone? If only I could remember.

Voyeurism

I feel like there might be an episode of Gilmore Girls unfolding at the table next to me. Brings back memories.

"I just want to smell you."

Have you ever caught yourself enjoying the smell of something that really, you shouldn't like at all? But for some reason you can't stop smelling it? I've definitely heard some people say that they like the smell of skunks. It's like that. But it can happen with anything. I guess it's different for different people. It's so secret, though. I bet that some people never tell anyone about their secret love for the smell of fresh urine. I bet most people don't even tell themselves that.
Something to think about.
Anyway, it seems that smell has become a prominent subject in my life at present. Strangely enough, smell-related incidents and comments have been flying left and right these past few weeks. Like a monthly catchphrase. But it's a sense.
Smelling is actually very nice. I remember reading in a psychology magazine that smell is the most powerful sense, and can have a very real impact on your psychological state. It sucks that as humans our sense of smell isn't so great. Sometimes I envy blind people, who, they say, have a heightened sense of smell to compensate for the loss of vision.
But just imagine dogs. They must perceive the world so differently. Maybe to the point that instead of "seeing" the world, they smell it. And they use that "smell image" to navigate through space and time. Smell-ship.
I mean, I don't mind vision so much. I love colors. And light. Light can change everything. I think my favorite is yellow light. Natural yellow, though, like the light in the park that comes through the leaves of trees. Yeah, sight is pretty awesome. I remember reading an article that was about people who were blind from birth who got surgery to give them sight. These people couldn't navigate the world, because they couldn't distinguish depth from all the blobs of color they saw.
I wonder what that's like. Deconstructing vision, taking away interpretation, until it's just a flat plane of color and shape. Brains are funny things.