When someone sends me a text, I instantaneously respond. If it's an email or message, I take a little more time (assuming I am near a computer), but it's answered. Regardless of the medium and attention it requires, I always respond within a few hours. A correspondence with me will never go unanswered beyond the span of a day. I understand that people have lives outside of the internet or their phones, but aren't the three interconnected? I am beginning to feel like the quickness in my attentiveness throws people off. Forcing them to reassess me as a person.

There is maybe only one person who appears to function under the same stipulations that I do. In a way, it's comforting, but at this point, it's expected and when the responses are less than frequent, I know why. Everyone else takes their time, slowing me down, and feeding me no real response. Not to their absence or to the questions at hand. I am not suggesting that people give me their undivided attention, always (or ever), but it would be nice if I felt understood.

I do not refer to this as being "obsessed with technology" or "having no life", I just see this as the etiquette of existing in the modern world.

I typically find myself daydreaming. Wandering around the flowerly bright land that is my brain. Running in circles and spinning in the opposite direction. Thoughts running rampant, but none going along the path of what is surrounding me. Thinking of pretty dresses, television shows, ten years from now, December, lunch, marriage?, careers, last week, tomorrow, whatever and ever. My consciousness pushes through and once out I feel a bit dizzy, light headed, sick, and confused. I run backwards and back inside my mind. There's an entire world inside, where I pop in for the more than occasional visit. I create my own people, places, and meanings. My world never ever lets me down, unless of course I want it to. The people are beautiful and do beautiful things. Unless of course I don't want them to. It's fall all year round. The trees only die once to keep the spirit of the season alive... On occasion my mind blurs the division between reality and my reality. It's such a fine line. Did this already happen? Do these people exist? Wasn't tomorrow last night? Unanswered question after unanswered question. I cannot ask those around me, for then they'd actually know there's nothing behind these bright blue eyes of mine. This sounds like instability, but really this is just how I've learned to cope.

Tonight I sat in a dimly lit parking lot. My window was cracked, my heat off, the windshield covered in snow like rain, and the Avett Brothers softly played in the background. My seat was pushed as far back as possible, I laid sideways with my black knee high boot covered feet resting on the door. My head was pushed against the stark cold glass of my driver side window. As I sat here waiting, sipping on creme brulee coffee, I read two very contrasting pieces of work. While reading I highlighted things I loved, changed things I hated, and circled repeated ideas/words. In the midst of doing this I realized that editing/writing is what I want to do. I felt at peace, calm, and like I could do this forever. I was made for this.

My parents are on vacation for the week and I've had the BEST WEEK. I'd like to think the two of them are unrelated, but there hasn't been anything particularly special about my week. I think it's the absence of Mary's negativity and hostility. I am picking up great vibes all over the place and minus the day that I passed out half way dressed on the floor and slept through all my classes -- this week has been good. I'm not going to try and pin it down, but I'm thankful. I LOVE EVERYTHING!