ink_splotch (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ink_splotch) wrote2006-09-12 11:57 pm
ink_splotch) wrote2006-09-12 11:57 pm
Sadness&Euphoria
I'm in an odd mood again. Seeing Freya was good, as always, but the weekend visits are harsh, and this one particularly so. Leaving her was hard. In the airport I had too much time, and so I wondered around without any particular purpose, drinking coffee and reading A Home at the End of the World, while Bruce Springsteen mourned and celebrated the frail, bittersweet and hurtful triviality of life in my ears.
There's an odd air in airports that I've never noticed before yesterday. Perhaps because I was already upset, it struck me. Airports have this quality of suspended life - while we are here, we are non-exsistant. We partially exsist, I suppose, as tickets and numbers and security risks. We exsist as voices in cellphones, a promise of being home in time for dinner or a birthday or to kiss the kids goodnight. But beyond that, we are suspended, waiting. We are neither here nor there; we are in travel limbo, not where we're coming from, not where we're going to.
Though maybe I just feel in general limbo these days. I need my life to begin again, and all though this time is pleasant enough, it feels unreal and the days run into one long stream of conciousness. I want to leave, to do something, to, I don't know, have structure and reality again.I am not cut out for this kind of thing.
However, tonight I had dinner with some girls from my class, which was good. I drove out there, which was soothing as well - something about the alternating melancholy and joy of Simon and Garfunkel while concentrating only on the simple acts of driving does me good. And then seeing the girls was amazing; I sometimes forget how much I like people, and particularly these people, these dorky, weird, quirky people, who actually care about me. Finally I drove them into the city (they were going out), and then I drove home. Or rather, I started to drive home. But I was listening to the Moving Out cast recording, and I knew as I hit the coast road and Summer, Highland Falls came on, that I couldn't go directly home. So I drove around, turned up the music so I couldn't hear myself singing above it and let the CD play out, going thrrough the emotions with it, and finally ending joyfully with the River of Dreams/Keeping the Faith/Only the Good Die Young medley, screaming the lyrics out. It was almost zen like, and now - now I'm happy. Or rather, calm. Content. I haven't felt calm in a while, excepting a few moments during my visit with Freya, so this is good.
All this is really just to say that I am home and I've missed you and that I hope you're all doing well and are happy.
There's an odd air in airports that I've never noticed before yesterday. Perhaps because I was already upset, it struck me. Airports have this quality of suspended life - while we are here, we are non-exsistant. We partially exsist, I suppose, as tickets and numbers and security risks. We exsist as voices in cellphones, a promise of being home in time for dinner or a birthday or to kiss the kids goodnight. But beyond that, we are suspended, waiting. We are neither here nor there; we are in travel limbo, not where we're coming from, not where we're going to.
Though maybe I just feel in general limbo these days. I need my life to begin again, and all though this time is pleasant enough, it feels unreal and the days run into one long stream of conciousness. I want to leave, to do something, to, I don't know, have structure and reality again.I am not cut out for this kind of thing.
However, tonight I had dinner with some girls from my class, which was good. I drove out there, which was soothing as well - something about the alternating melancholy and joy of Simon and Garfunkel while concentrating only on the simple acts of driving does me good. And then seeing the girls was amazing; I sometimes forget how much I like people, and particularly these people, these dorky, weird, quirky people, who actually care about me. Finally I drove them into the city (they were going out), and then I drove home. Or rather, I started to drive home. But I was listening to the Moving Out cast recording, and I knew as I hit the coast road and Summer, Highland Falls came on, that I couldn't go directly home. So I drove around, turned up the music so I couldn't hear myself singing above it and let the CD play out, going thrrough the emotions with it, and finally ending joyfully with the River of Dreams/Keeping the Faith/Only the Good Die Young medley, screaming the lyrics out. It was almost zen like, and now - now I'm happy. Or rather, calm. Content. I haven't felt calm in a while, excepting a few moments during my visit with Freya, so this is good.
All this is really just to say that I am home and I've missed you and that I hope you're all doing well and are happy.