Monday, July 30, 2012

Drunk on optimism I remind myself not to be deceived.

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

My Reflection on "The Dead"

Oh Gretta, I know how you feel. It was one of those sunny Italian days. That boy I had been trying to shake off messaged me again. It was one of the worst attempts at poetry I had read in a while. He even got the color of my eyes wrong. One by one we are all becoming shades.
"Ok, wake up Blue Eyes", was my answer across an ocean.

I hopped onto the bus and started day-dreaming about what the festivities of the night would bring. Maybe the prince will be there... Why is that man staring at me from the other side of the bus? Oh no.

"Hello. What is your name?"
"Ciao, mi chiama Julia."
"Ahhh Giulia, I am Romeo."
I laughed my fakest laugh and descended at my stop. Waiting by my apartment door was a man holding a bouquet of flowers.
"Sei Giulia?"
Oh shit. They are from Blue Eyes. Rushing up to my apartment, I grabbed a vase to temporarily toss the flowers into while I floundered around to get ready. In my hurry, beneath my unsteady hands, I dropped the vase. It shattered all over the floor, scattering around like pieces of a puzzle I could never assemble. I did not have time to sweep them up. I threw the flowers on the table. When I got home they were withered.

One year later was our anniversary. I sat across him as we stared into each other's teary eyes. I wonder if even then he did not know their shade. I was convinced he would have stood in a garden outside my window, shivering for me, dying for me.

"What sort of self-awareness does Gabriel acheive after his epiphany?.... Julia, any ideas?"
"Hmm? Oh sorry, I was thinking about sleeping."
"Well then wake up!"

Thursday, July 19, 2012

"The reason death sticks so closely to life isn't biological necessity- it's envy. Life is so beautiful that death has fallen in love with it, a jealous, possessive love that grabs at what it can. But life leaps over oblivion lightly, losing only a thing or two of no importance, and gloom is but the passing shadow of a cloud." -Yann Martel

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

let's throw a frisbee maybe or go canoeing
build a glider and jump off mountains
or tiptoe.
I've been putting too much stock into horoscopes.
The tarot card reader told me I felt alone. I laughed at her. You should look at my bookshelf.
My horoscope has been telling me to look out for love lately. Look out, because it might come speeding towards me, full steam ahead, only to crash into me, and explode me into a thousand un-findable pieces? Years could never re-assemble me back into the same person I used to be, the pieces wouldn't fit. Why does love have to be the goal of everything? The good books are the ones that discredit it. I only think that now. Now that I have been re-assembled. Stuttered words that were meant to be seductive, eyes that were meant to allure, and lips that were meant to entice, all appeared ridiculous to me one thousand times over. Often, I burst out laughing.
Yet, I will probably read my horoscope tomorrow. I will probably continue hoping that someone will drop out of the stars, even though I know men do not come from stars. Everybody knows they come from Venus. 

Friday, July 13, 2012

I want to be so wildly happy and unruly, beating out hearty laughter that usurps all peace. Happiness frightens people because they do not believe in it. 

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

My body may be here but my soul dwells amongst your cobblestone streets yet, oh Italy. 

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Sometimes I think I am a cross between a grandmother and a ten year old. I could not be bothered to be freshly twenty-three. Worshipping the gods of youth by dancing around the fire of my own drunkenness has been wildly deceiving. Jamming out to the lyrics "live fast die young, bad girls do it well", could not be any farther from my present reality. Yet, that does not mean I don't still know how to groove to a steady beat.

We were riding the bus home from the Aquarium. 
"Oh good", I said to my friend, "We are not the only adults here."
Blonde haired and bronzed from sports, a young American recognized her native tongue and pipped up like squirrel. It was her last day and she also preferred to spend it admiring dolphins rather than ancient ruins.

"You must be sad to leave Rome", I said. Mistaking as I so often do, other people's feelings to be similar to my own.
"No", she replied. "Not so much leaving Rome. Mostly just leaving him", nodding with her eyes towards her shaved-headed boyfriend. 
"He lives in Springfield and I live in St. Louis... They are two hours away."

The music blasting from the speaker located directly above me played a popular tune I was un-aquainted with. The sun was shining directly on the American girl as she mouthed each lyric to the song that had something to do with how all good things come to an end. I thought in that moment that perhaps I was 103 years old.

Monday, July 2, 2012

Magic lands, don't make me leave.

I did not mean to have the best two months of my life. They just sort of happened. Paths opened before me that I chose to walk down, and they lead me to a world of wonders. They opened my eyes again to how beautiful and magical life can be. I've learned a lot about myself, and a lot about other people. I think I have remembered what is important in life, which is above all, love and self-giving. Life is beautiful when you are happy, and I think there is only one way to be.

Yet, now it returns. That sinking feeling in my stomach that is telling me my time has come to leave these magic lands. It will be hard to remember this joy without you, Italia mia. You know I will be back as well as I do. Maybe this time it will be a longer wait, but I am coming back for you. I always do.

Thank you for all you have done for me.