I absolutely hate anticipation.
I've been fighting, trying to find a grad school, trying to scramble and be ready for my journey, and figure out where I want my life to go.
And I'm anticipating it all collapsing while I'm still trying to figure a way to hold it all up.
I am excited. Deep down. But on the surface, and perhaps a bit deeper, I am puzzled by feelings of regret, anxiety, and resentment.
I think it's a combination of all things life and spiritual. But I've been so disheartened lately that I question my own longevity to experience the meat of my life. People say it's gone by; I say it hasn't begun.
Tomorrow marks the beginning of the end of an era. Tomorrow, I begin to understand. Tomorrow, I begin to grow in presence, in strength, in understanding. Tomorrow, I begin to find the answer - if I am woman, if I am man, if I am androgyny personified, if I am human, if I am spirit, if I am goddess, if I am child.
Tomorrow I begin to see the world.
No longer will I be caged. I will taste freedom, and I will covet it, cherish it, and hate it, because it will have ruined my senses for this dimension I have escaped, for this path I have walked, for this air I have cycled. I will hate it and love it and become one with it and part from it - all at once. Once after once after once. Once will turn into a moment, and the moment will last forever. I will be in limbo with my existence, and it will swallow me and spit me, and I will welcome and despise it.
To a land of past, present, and future I travel. Where I find myself I cannot wait to discover.
My, it's been so long! Look at the date difference between these two posts. Even though my last blog entry doesn't say too much that's important, I can still tell I've grown since that time not so long ago. When I posted that, I was fresh into college, 18-years-old, and expecting something special out of the world. Now, I'm officially a "veteran," I'm 20, and I don't expect much out of the world except for what I put into it.
This coming Friday, I am leaving for Florence, Italy, for four weeks - May 25 - June 25. This will be my center of gravity for a while - where I'll post my reflections and, possibly, pictures. It will be my connection to whomever will read this, as well as to a piece of myself that I can read and understand when I'm in a foreign land of foreign words and babbling tongues.
I'm excited, no doubt. But I'm also so afraid that I'm paralyzed. I'm afraid I'm going to walk onto that plane and have forgotten my suitcase, or get to Italy and realize I have no money - or worse, no underwear. But of course, things will go well, I'll have the time of my life, and I'll look back at all of my apprehension and call myself a fool. At least, I hope so.
This will become my critical thinking blog, my Xanga will become my insignificant day-to-day blog, and my Wordpress will become my extremely specialized blog - cultural criticism.
I'm probably spreading myself too thin again, but I don't think I know how to live without doing that. When I was in high school, I took three jobs during my senior year and two during that summer, working anywhere between 40 and 70 hours a week. During my freshman year at college, I jumped into five different organizations. This past semester I took 20 hours, became the coordinating editor of a magazine, associate editor of a campus-wide magazine, joined a new organization, worked at an internship, and balanced friends, family, and a significant other.
So three blogs, a million RSS feeds, eight blogs bookmarked on my browser, a constantly updated forum, and an six-hour a day job in the capitol (which I live an hour away from) is nothing special, nothing new, nothing extraordinary.
Welcome to another world of mine. Hope you enjoy.
