de·ject·ed

–adjective depressed in spirits; disheartened; low-spirited

Synonyms
downcast
miserable
glum
gloomy
droopy
downhearted

Post-Collegiate Wisdom,

"Even for me, life had its gleams of sunshine."

"...it is madness in all women to let a secret love kindle within them, which, if unreturned and unknown, must devour the life that feeds it."

"I still felt as a wanderer on the face of the earth."

"He made me love him without looking at me."
-Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte)

"Its strange because sometimes, I read a book and I think I am the people in the book."

"We accept the love we think we deserve."

"I feel infinite."

"I don't know if you've ever felt like that. That you wanted to sleep for a thousand years. Or just not exist. Or just not be aware that you exist. Or something like that."
-The Perks of Being a Wallflower (Stephen Chbosky)

I need to rename this blog.

Because today is my second full day as a college graduate.

I no longer have the neon sign I always imagined hung over my head and declared to the world that I was a "student". I no longer have a to-do list that is dozens of items long.

Last night, as I was going to bed I tried to come up with an idea for what I could do today. I knew I was going to watch a lot of things on Hulu, but usually when that's my plan I feel a little bit of guilt for not writing that paper or not doing that research. Even on vacations, there was always something academic I should have been doing.

Not anymore.

I woke up and my father asked me if I was looking for a job today. I said no, because I can do that tomorrow. And its true, I don't have any more deadlines. At this point in my life, the only person who is going to be affected by my procrastination is me.

I feel a lot like a deflated balloon.

There's another image for you.

Soon to be Post Collegiate Thoughts,

Its raining, and I'm probably heading home to my island after graduation. So, Billy speaks to me.


Now I drive my Downeaster "Alexa"
More and more miles from shore every year
Since they tell me I can't sell no stripers
And there's no luck in swordfishing here.

I was a bayman like my father was before
Can't make a living as a bayman anymore
There ain't much future for a man who works the sea
But there ain't no island left for islanders like me

You say goodbye.
I say hello.

Hello, hello.

My Viking Soul is Unsettled

This morning, at 2:22 AM my first thought was that my feet were cold.
Then, I made a mental to do list for the next few weeks.
Then, I briefly considered how much easier my life would be if distances didn't need to be traveled.
Then, I thought about Norway.

I thought about how really Norway shouldn't mean to me what it does. I don't think it is literally possible to love the ocean because my ancestors did. I don't really believe that my lungs could want to breath Norwegian air or that my feet could know the feel of the roads in Farsund any better than the roads in Staten Island.

But somehow, tonight with morning creeping closer and closer I thought about Norway and I cried. Its been too many years since I have slept under a down comforter that smells like the sea. It is the first place I felt my comfort zone stretch, and now I want to go back to feel that way again.

When I'm writing, sometimes images occur to me that make perfect sense but I realize don't seem all that logical. I am fond of saying, for instance, that in the last week of July I feel like a stretched out rubber band. I don't know why that comparison seems to illustrate everything I need to say. I really don't even know what its saying exactly, I just know that its true.

I like when I stumble upon images in songs that seem to resonate so truthfully with me. When I find them, I tend to wish I had written them. In Timequake, Kurt Vonnegut says that he wishes he had written Our Town. I haven't found the book I wish I had written yet, but I do wish I had written the words to this song.

Circle me,
and the needle moves gracefully,
back and forth.
If my heart was a compass you'd be north.
Risk it all,
cause I'll catch you if you fall.
Wherever you go,
if my heart was a house you'd be home.

Its at this point in almost every semester that I begin to take notice of all the work I have left to do. The tasks I need to tackle and the papers I still need to write. The mountain of work seems daunting and unconquerable, especially teetering on the edge of a vacation.

What makes this even more bizarre is that its the last time I will do any of this. It is the last time I will feel the end of semester panic.

And this time, I will take some advice that my mother so lovingly passes on to me:

How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.

Its almost four, come on

I hate not being able to sleep.

More than that, I hate feeling tired, but not being able to sleep.

I also hate knowing that the world (read: this campus) is not going to recognize that I had trouble sleeping and its going to march on. Relentless, with lots and lots of noise.

Tomorrow morning, after I forget to keep trying to fall asleep and jerk awake before chapel and hurry there in what will inevitably be wet weather, I will think, "I should have slept more last night". As if thinking that will somehow improve the little sleep I did receive.

I suppose its okay though,
because the reason I can't sleep is I just can't seem to stop thinking about how happy I've been lately.

The Simple Truths,

After four years here, I am a glutton for laughter.
I expect the greater part of everyday to be spent in the company of excellent people.
Weekends like this one make me smile.
Yelling the loudest means you're right.

And the simplest and greatest truth-
I will never settle when it comes to friendship ever again.