Good Days…
i can strip off my jacket outside; it’s not blaringly sunny, and the sky still retains a bit of its somberness in which i’m immensely enraptured.
i hear from old friends, not the sort who i conducted a casual acquaintance with and could forget in the blink of an eye, but cherished friendships, the sort that, via letters and get-togethers, i could see myself talking to, praying for, and hearing from over the course of a lifetime.
i see people waving and smiling. like blair said on monday, it’s all about the little things that can make a day. i find that when someone says my name, my spirit skyrockets, whether or not i was already in a good mood.
i find more and more quotes in my now-beloved ‘jane eyre.’ i am falling in love with, not the classic mr. rochester, but the idea of st. john. i’m weird, i know. this isn’t the first literary (and thus, unfortunately, fictitious) character i’ve fallen in love with, you know.
i watch how a room changes. i’ve been sitting in hale library since 1:30. it is now almost 4. people come, people go. some sit down, others wander aimlessly. the room is still the same, but the atmosphere, the sounds, even the way the walls breathe, all changes depending on its content.
