i can't believe the new year is here & vacation is over already. wasn't it supposed to feel longer, weren't the idle days supposed to be composed of a million moments that gathered instead of slipped by right before my eyes? even without routine life passes much too quickly. i set up an appointment today to meet a new advisor who my father hopes will inspire me to become practically career minded, to reconcile myself with the idea of a 9-5 that may require me to purchase some suits and pointy shoes and wake up early to do my hair each morning. i know i could do absolutely anything if i wanted to, even if only out of neccessity. but what's the point in earning a living if you wind up procrastinating your life? happiness will always be in the little things, and at best unpredicatable and entirely out of your control. could i find contentment in a job simply facilitating things, enjoyment in a business that represents anything but human relations and reactions and feelings? i feel old when i'm forced to swallow these unbalanced mixtures of childish desire and adult common sense. i don't want to grow up. i dream of pixie dust.

and already i'm tossing around ideas for the summer. do i stay at school when i can't even say i really enjoy myself there for the other three seasons? or do i return home this time with a job and accept redundant weekdays and at best weekends spent in backyards drinking? maybe then i wouldn't have to fight these feelings at least, the insecurity and frustration that comes from only being remembered when you're convenient. it's not even a criticism of the people, more of the difference between myself and almost every other i meet. is it possible for them just not to think of me and how easily i break? i wish i knew how not to consider others, this past summer itself would have been better if i hadn't had to think of how anyone else felt. and even when i pretend to neglect the feelings of others it's only after careful deliberation and weighing of subsequent options. so i can't accept inconsiderate. i can't accept i just didn't think to call. i can't accept the way life gets handed to you as justification for the fact that you don't reach out your hand to help anyone else. for me, it would be even more reason to extend and share your blessings. i guess sincerity just must be a flaw in modern society.

i guess it's fashionable to say 'you can call me anytime' and then screen your calls as needed. i guess friends can be as little as the people that keep you company, the people that show up daily, because nobody likes to be lonely. but what about the empathy, generosity, consistency? just because it comes naturally doesn't mean it's acceptable to not press for a higher standard. or maybe i'm just run by a different set of priorities. but aren't i enough for you to at least conceed a few idle moments into considering what i would do for you if the situation was reversed? it's true what they say about quality versus quantity, but the extraneous variable is always lonliness. having the best friends in the world is only so much help when you can't see any of them on one of those nights where being alone is a bigger burden than you know how to carry. and you can be at a party where you share a kind word with everyone but still feel unloved. and you can feel sad for no expressable reason, which really means muted disappointment, & crave companionship so acutely that you don't know how people even breathe on their own, the whole notion of having your own spine to support you and your own pair of lungs just seems cruel when everything else only feels functional with two.

small town florida is only as boring as you want it to be. the beach is a day trip and so is the city. meals can be made into affairs and destinations can be arbitrary as long as you have someone enjoyable to share the ride there. i miss laughing the way only his sarcasm could let me, i miss driving aimlessly just because stagnance was a feeling we fought at any cost. i've wasted so much energy the past few years trying to come to terms with being alone and not lonely. wasted only because it's still the one thing that can make me go crazy and being here sometimes feels like a masochistic tendency. i've got my diversions, plenty of hobbies, but in the end it's just ways to pass the time between the moments when i actually feel alive, albeit endorphins & engaging distractions, because of others that reflect all the things i fail to articulate yet can't quite ignore. i don't want to settle for daytime television and nights of monotony. i don't want my days to blur together and i don't want my nights to feel like repeats of the same jaded scene. i want no frills friendship, i want companions that know how to make doing nothing fun. i want personality that prefaces activity and i can't help but wonder if there's some turbulance innate to my personality that discourages most from ever getting that comfortable with me.