thoughts from dartmouth

friday evening, july thirteenth at dartmouth!

UNRAVELING.  ANTICONTEXT.  And the language of possibility.  Simple words, big reliefs.  <sigh>  Seeing things in a new way.---Visiting another world, almost mine?  Plenty of resolutions to last--Trepidation of inadequacies.  Sarah and I drove here to HANOVER, NH to visit wonderful Hannah for the weekend.  Sure I've got my finals next week, but who the hell said that fun was prohibited?  OUTSIDE PROVIDENCE.  A wonderful place to be.  ONLY WONDERFUL THINGS.  Good things, this summer.  So much of myself I'm discovering.  Who is the Christian inside of me?  Do I really know who that is?  The security of knowing that home is never too far away...  That friends are helpful antidotes to the trials of life...  And that wonderfully palpable moments like these are God's subtle ways of saying, "I love you."  Soft kisses.  I wouldn't mind your strong and protective embrace.  Need to know that at least my excitement loves me.  Oh, the claustrophobia of crowded chapels and persistent condemnation...  of Brown and of Rhode Island.  The powerful and liberating language of possibility.  How is it that I am so inspired to write?  Contemplating my future...  Do I really want to study in London for an entire year?  My answer pains to say YES.  Fantastic.  The wonders of travel.  Home is never too far away.  THIS HAS BEEN AN AMAZING SUMMER.  And thank God it's far from over.  More confidence in myself.  More reality with my faith.  More challenge for the better.  Sweet imported biscuits, flaky and delightful and wine-colored peach tea with an appetizer of Smirnoff Ice.  LIFE GRAND.  Losing myself in the distractions of routine and other other mundane and usual.  I think routine is what makes time go by faster than it should.  It's not busyness---I can be busy and yet enjoy every moment---somewhat how this summer is coming.  Seeing the stars for THE FIRST TIME...  again.  And falling asleep to the voice of Jennifer Knapp.  Where are those familiar nights of rich introspection and detailed journalism?  Soon enough they will exist again.  And yet poetry shall ebb from my pen once again. 

Desperately wanting and fighting for a satisfaction forged not by my environment buy by my inner assurance that subtleties like these are dear.  An unobtrusive lunch.  Conversations with one of my most problematic memories from freshman year.  And discoveries of the power inherent in pistachio bean and cowabunga crunch ice cream.  It's acceptable to be ambiguous---Should fear little recourse...  Slumber an enemy and temptations overbearing, victorious.  Threats of an unpalatable and offensive kind---borne of love and muscle.  My dearest remembrances of a year undone.  Sweet times, these are.  The language of possibility my best hope and dear friend---Fearfully I ponder if I neglect too much my ignorance of what is.  RELAXATION.  Code for the moment.  I'm jealous.  I'm sleepy.  Slumber hits.

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