concept > reality.

I often like the idea of a thing more than the thing itself. I fall in and out of love with concepts every day.

no breathing.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx.
This is how long I held my breath while pushing the x key.
Gotta work on that lung capacity.

broken bones.

Do you remember when you broke your collar bone? We gathered our things and went to the hospital at the most normal pace. Unhurried. We drove the speed limit the whole way. Maddening. In the seat next to me, you were so small. The veins in your neck fed blue pallor into the rest of your skin. Your lips were the lightest possible shade of pink. You said you were cold. But I watched the sweat roll down your forehead, follow the line of your brow, and drip into your eyes; collecting in the thick clumps of your lashes. You were as still as I’d ever seen you. I talked. I joked. I tried to be gentle when I poured water into your mouth. We hit a pot hole in the same moment and I spilled it over your face. Sweat and water mixed and gave you the shakes. I couldn’t stop looking at you. Do you remember how small you were? I worried the sharp bone would poke through the skin at your neck, making a deadly incision. Blood and sweat and water mixed. But the bone remained rooted in place. Your skin stayed clean, intact. Blue and purple blotches formed around the swelling beneath that smooth skin. And you sat so calm with that broken bone. And I was so frantic with my broken heart to match.

don't make this inappropriate, people.

I love closeness. I love being pressed against another person. Granted, I retract that statement when I’m on a bus or a subway and someone is taking up my breathing room. But, as a general rule, I like being touched. Let’s not get dirty, here. Likewise, I want to touch everything. I like textures and the different feel of things. I like physical contact. If you look like you have nice, touchable hair or elbows or eyelashes, even, I’m gonna want to go for it. I won't, though. I try to respect personal space boundaries. But if I could, I would touch everyone. So when we’re squished together in the backseat of your car or you flop down beside me on the couch, I really don't mind.

maybe I'm anemic.

I've been exhausted all week. Why, you ask? I have no freaking idea. Really. I haven't done anything out of the ordinary. I haven't really done any strenuous exercise. So why, why, why am I so tired?? My mom suggested I might be anemic. So, naturally, I'm going with that. Now I don't know the first thing about anemia or if my symptoms match up, but humans generally like to have excuses so anemia will be mine this time around. Really, I'd much rather have a disease than be accurately diagnosed as a sloth- wouldn't you?
Moving on.
Spring is coming. I can feel it. And I am excited.
Next thing you know it'll be summer and I'll never ever be inside except for when I need to take a stroll down those refrigerated aisles of Smith's to get away from the hot hot Utah heat. But I ain't afraid. Do your worst, Utah. I just want to be warm for good.

KEEP CALM.

Patience is not a virtue of mine. I have a habit of making very sudden, very irrational decisions at a moment's notice. There is never any warning, either. I just think about something, get an idea into my head, and have to do it. I have to. If I don't follow through with these ideas, I'll go insane. It's ridiculous. I am ridiculous. I just need to learn to take a time out. Keep calm and carry on.

I get carried away.

I want to always be outside. I hate being shut up in my apartment for hours on end. Restless Bekah Syndrome is in full swing. So is Disenchanted Syndrome. Come on, baby, play me something like "Here Comes The Sun." This has been a disjointed post.