I am exhausted in this sort of exhilirated way. This is potentially due to the four espresso shots I've had since 9pm, but psssh. Let's pretend this is my normal state in life.
[I have Beethoven playing, writing on my laptop and a great book within arm's reach and my blankets are more comfortable than... well... that green, green, wide-bladed grass in the summer time]
I didn't read as much as I should have. I'm goign to bed EARLY and am waking up EARLY so that I can shower and be cute for my 11:30 class. So I'll have two and a half hours before class to read my little ass off. I'll just go to Haven Hall and sit in the windows and read before class. It'll be harder to fall asleep there and skip than it would be if I stay here in the house and read.
For the most part, I need to escape my roommates, or else it will never work.
Today was another one of those days. Where the snow was melting and the air felt like the winter's version of [American] Football Saturdays in the fall. To me, they are both worthless and wonderful days. Worthless in the sense that the snow gets uglier faster and then the sidewalks turn into sheets of ice at night; yet they're wonderful in the sense that it reminds you that sunshine still exists and the sky is a beautiful blue more often than not, in the better times of the year.
When the snow falls at night, it's beautiful. But theother day it was more sleet than anything else and simply hurt and hurt badly. Still, it is hard to find anything to rival those nights when the fluffy, perfect snowflakes are falling like bits of cotton from the sky. There's something about looking up at a streetlight and watching them fall--but it has to be really late at night when the world is asleep and you're one of the only people on the street. Then the world feels even more like a place that can ignite your insides and make you passionate without doing anything.
It's like laying down and looking up into the leaves of a tree. You can do that at any time in the spring, summer or fall. The best nights are those that are quiet--when there's a street lamp somewhat near, but maybe not too close. If you lay there long enough, the details become so clear and you can't hear anything but the rustle of the leaves in the breeze. It's even better if it's drizzling out. Summer showers and laying under trees with the droplets slowly sifting their way down and onto your body--can you beat that?
I remember I did that a few times over the summer--and it's something I have to do more often. I don't take walks at night anymore, not like I used to. The campus sometimes feels too big and there aren't enough trees--although the spring and summer are perfect times to take those walks. The Diag transforms into smething beautiful at night in the late spring. We used to go rollar blading all over the Diag because it's one of the only places that's flat and the sidewalks are decent. In the winter, it simply feels uninviting and intimidating.
Can't wait until the spring. Although, I'll be honest, I hope it takes its time.
[I have Beethoven playing, writing on my laptop and a great book within arm's reach and my blankets are more comfortable than... well... that green, green, wide-bladed grass in the summer time]
I didn't read as much as I should have. I'm goign to bed EARLY and am waking up EARLY so that I can shower and be cute for my 11:30 class. So I'll have two and a half hours before class to read my little ass off. I'll just go to Haven Hall and sit in the windows and read before class. It'll be harder to fall asleep there and skip than it would be if I stay here in the house and read.
For the most part, I need to escape my roommates, or else it will never work.
Today was another one of those days. Where the snow was melting and the air felt like the winter's version of [American] Football Saturdays in the fall. To me, they are both worthless and wonderful days. Worthless in the sense that the snow gets uglier faster and then the sidewalks turn into sheets of ice at night; yet they're wonderful in the sense that it reminds you that sunshine still exists and the sky is a beautiful blue more often than not, in the better times of the year.
When the snow falls at night, it's beautiful. But theother day it was more sleet than anything else and simply hurt and hurt badly. Still, it is hard to find anything to rival those nights when the fluffy, perfect snowflakes are falling like bits of cotton from the sky. There's something about looking up at a streetlight and watching them fall--but it has to be really late at night when the world is asleep and you're one of the only people on the street. Then the world feels even more like a place that can ignite your insides and make you passionate without doing anything.
It's like laying down and looking up into the leaves of a tree. You can do that at any time in the spring, summer or fall. The best nights are those that are quiet--when there's a street lamp somewhat near, but maybe not too close. If you lay there long enough, the details become so clear and you can't hear anything but the rustle of the leaves in the breeze. It's even better if it's drizzling out. Summer showers and laying under trees with the droplets slowly sifting their way down and onto your body--can you beat that?
I remember I did that a few times over the summer--and it's something I have to do more often. I don't take walks at night anymore, not like I used to. The campus sometimes feels too big and there aren't enough trees--although the spring and summer are perfect times to take those walks. The Diag transforms into smething beautiful at night in the late spring. We used to go rollar blading all over the Diag because it's one of the only places that's flat and the sidewalks are decent. In the winter, it simply feels uninviting and intimidating.
Can't wait until the spring. Although, I'll be honest, I hope it takes its time.
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