:: now I only know I am, that's all ::

poetry has just fit my mood lately. this past year has been challenging in so many ways: important deadlines, relationship issues, growth in grace, cloudy ideas about the future. I end up awake late, staring out the window feeling a little nostalgic (I get wistful when it's midnight), wishing life could slow down so that I could work through this stuff without feeling rushed, and wistfulness lends itself spectacularly to many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, soooo... of course my answer to this is to stay up later. especially with work in the morning.
   but read I do, and then beautiful lines echo in my head all day. lines I can't quote, because they won't fit, they sound pretentious, and no one else would get them. "in the spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love... I'm sorry, what were you saying?" that sort of compounds my feelings, which prompts up-late-staying the next night; and so it goes.
   
   I want a break from My Life As Of Now. I want to enjoy the holidays without any responsibility; without the knowledge of a february deadline for a portfolio that I technically haven't started yet and dread compiling, without the scholarship needs when I don't know what to do and am not sure even how to go about doing it. 

there you go. my stress in a nutshell. time holds me green and dying.

poetry has just been a good escape; death and loss and broken hearts are just soothing to my wounded soul, I suppose. "april again in avrillé, and the brown lark in air; and you and I a world apart who walked together there..."  
   I know, it all sounds petty and pathetic when I write it out. I need to hit myself upside the head and think through this clearly. honestly, what's the worst that would happen if I didn't get this portfolio submitted? well, february 15th is the priority deadline. my stuff would still get looked at, at some point. let's say I suck; and they write me a mean letter telling me to flush my artwork and materials down the toilet because I'm obviously cut out for a toothpaste-capping job at some podunk factory.
   that would mean I either go somewhere else, less selective, for a BFA, or I drop the idea of being an artist. I'm sure I have other... talents... somewhere around here.... I mean, I at least have other interests, and I'm sure I could find something to do in college. really, really super-worst comes to worst, I take another year off figuring out what I want to do (but ugh, that sounds so awful. I don't think it could ever come to that). 
   
things really aren't that bad. I have a fantastic job, long-term plans and dreams, a great family, and a new 1d album to enjoy. not to mention plans to eat waffles (!!!) and watch fiddler on the roof next day off (did I mention I have today off? I do. it's been great). 
   sorry for the sorting-out complainy-fest. a year from now I'll look back and laugh at myself for being so worried about nothing.
   ...and then probably go back to stressing out about the finals I have coming up, or something. isn't life just like that.