nine nine

i've had a day - i don't know - i've had a week or two.i mean really, i've been a disaster of a person, i think. the good news, and i mean this sincerely, is that my hair is really cute and i've found the perfect shade of nail color. this isn't superficial - this is about the small things.

i don't know what to do about a seventeen year old being more [something] than me. i can't elaborate on this except to say that i have just now - in the past month, even - realized that i am not young. when a 27 year-old says "we're almost 30" i want to laugh and shake my head a little because no, you're not. you're just outside 25, which is a thing in and of itself, to be sure, but you are not almost 30.

i feel like i'm molting. and that statement is not about my age - my age is a vague side issue that means very little if anything, really. i don't know. i feel like [something]. i feel like running -- actually running. moving my legs at a speed they never experience. i feel like jumping up higher so that when i fall, it's farther. i want to open and close all the books. i want to run and run and slam them shut. i want to spin around and see you there. i want to feel bombarded by you.