I believe in the power of Sky -- not the vodka, you college students, you -- walking back from SAC this afternoon, I found myself staring up and watching the striated clouds jog by, with a quick clip to their pace. The big bunch of them, these strings of suspended moisture, seemed very purposed, very driven; yet, my scientific mind kept reminding me that they were driven, in a sense. The wind was pushing them forward (or backwards?) to some unknown destination where the air will be so saturated, the temperature right, the pressure primed, and the clouds will fall away. Some days later, they'll gather together again as old droplet friends, share stories of the rocks they met and the streams they traveled, the fish they brushed up against, and the sprigs of green they covered as dew; until one day, when their circle of condensate-life intersects with my human one, and I'll gently brush a drop off my cheek. Maybe this time, though, I'll think for a few seconds about my chance encounter with the same molecules that may also have touched a crying mother, a wandering child, my ancestors...or perhaps they once fell upon the wagging tale of my dog Sandi. Inevitably, though, I'll brush away the droplet with my fingertips and let it fall to the ground to be reabsorbed into its circle, while some part of it absorbed into mine through my permeable skin. And this is how the weave of my life is quilted, from rain and sun and wind.

I had such a great time tonight. Thanks, guys, for "dragging" me out :) This whole "college" thing is pretty cool, afterall, huh?

The human capacity for compassion and for dealing with tragedy and sadness is incredible. Our minds, souls, and bodies seem capable of transcending most experiences and coming through better on the other end.

A foray into me, thinking....

Friendship. It's been the one constant on my mind for the past 24 hours. That, and I think I'm going crazy.

Tonight was really tough. There are times when I feel like I'm a twelve-year-old living in this growing adult's body; I have the emotional capacity of a prepubescent teeny-bopper who has yet to have her first kiss. I try to express myself to the people I care about, try to explain my frustrations and in return am told that, essentially, it's my fault because I failed at securing a network of true friends early on. Which makes me angry, sad, fume, because that's a direct blow at the efforts of four years to disassemble a personality built on rocks, stones, and opaque windows; that's a blow to the genuinity of Danny and Hanson, of their importance in my life; that's a blow to everything I've given you, everything I did to grow as a better, more human person. And that's what hurts the most.

There's a funny thing about reminiscing about home with someone from the same area as you - it's like suddenly switching to speaking in a foreign world, with foreign words with foreign memories and foreign definitions. It's like being suddenly swept under a tide of the past, drowned in thoughts that seem to blur your vision of the present; once again you're physically surrounded by the landmarks of your previous life. And the words feel different on your tongue, the meanings taking a few minutes to register in a swoozy brain.

In the past twenty-four hours, my senses have been awakened to the world of of people all around me - it's so easy to get consumed by everyday life, without noticing all the thinking, processing, exhanges around you. All of a sudden, notions of having "quality" life discussions with people that usually only happen late at night with friends that already know everything you're going to say, seem silly. With the immediacy of graduation, every conversation I have takes on an air of finality, of indecision, of uncertainty mixed with conclusions. Every conversation has an aspect of Worldliness and the Future.Every conversation is a Thinking conversation.

Goodnight, world. Tonight, I'm praying for forgiveness from the people in my life who might not know it, but who I've neglected when all I wanted more than anything was to be closer to them, who I've ignored unintentionally and been a wimp in rectifying it, who inspire me and give me reasons to look forward to the hopes of the next day without my ever saying thanks. Thank you for caring for this fractured soul anyway.

PS. I miss Kristy.