i'm blowing this popsicle stand

I got into Guelph! For the next two years I will be among hippies in barefeet. And I'll get to take courses that are called things like Animal Rights and Human Wrongs, which is pretty much the best thing ever. I predict that I'll get sentimental about leaving in about 3 minutes, but right now I'm just excited.

P.S. My sister seems to respond to everything I say with "well. that's what happens when you're a brat". For some reason I find this extraordinarily funny and it makes me miss her even more.

P.P.S. I got into Guelph. That's what happens when you're a brat.

someone you used to know

I thought I knew you. (suddenly your words of "we don't know each other yet" are ringing in my ears). HOW could I have been this wrong about you? How could you sit there and tell me those things, those hateful, awful things, that you so easily justify with your philosophy of 'human nature'. I thought you saw through all those things, but as it turns out, any revolutionary thoughts that you have are fragmented and won't get you far because you just DON'T GET IT. There's a disconnection there. A fundamental and dangerous disconnection. And I don't know what it will take or how long it will take for you to connect it and finally catch up to my idea of you. But I can't wait around for this. In our 5 hour conversation, I moved from anger to disbelief to tears. I do hope you get it, and fast, for the sake of everyone you interact with...

but. it. won't. be. around. me.

i ran across the grass to be near you, and i saw lovers hanging from trees

In my mind I try to rewind three weeks...to before I knew you, before you looked at me in that way that makes my heart actually skip (who knew that hearts ACTUALLY did that?), before you became so much a part of me that being without you feels wrong somehow. But I can't. It feels like it's been you forever. It feels like we grew up in next-door houses and played in the sandbox and did school projects on What We Want To Be When We Grow Up. It feels like you were there for every scraped knee and every dance recital and every broken heart.

And every time I think that this isn't real, that the feelings you tell me of with such strength and certainty couldn't possibly be based on who I actually am, you prove me so completely wrong. I don't know quite how this happened...but I wouldn't rewind three weeks for anything.