Last night I broke his heart.
...
Shattered it, actually. I took what was given to me for safe keeping, and murdered it. I didn't want to. But something inside tells me it was the right thing to do.
Why does it hurt so much? Because I know the damage I did. I've seen the effects of what happens when other people do it. And I hate it. It's one of the cruelest things anyone can do.
I hope to God he'll be ok, eventually. I'm pretty sure he will be. I pray that some other woman will come along and heal him in ways I can't. Because he deserves that. He deserves more than what I can give him right now.
God tells me to love my friends. Am I doing this wrong?
...
So I said no. I said yes before, and that's the kicker. I said yes because i wanted it to be true. Because a tiny part of me could see it being true. But I know, that even if part of me felt that way, I would still feel the way I do for the other one, and that's not fair to him, and that not right. Whoever I love deserves all of me, not part of me.
The voices are silent. They don't know what to say. Or if they do, they don't bother. Silence.
I can't cry. It's all inside.
He forgave me. He said I love you and I forgive you. I still can't quite wrap my mind around it, but I accept it. I'm scared for what's going to come.
...
And now I get to finish my paper on Cruelty and Goodness. Oh God, please help me.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Special Edition: Pointless.
This one isn't going to make it to Facebook.
Happy Easter.
I spent it without my family for the first time. HOw I feel about it? Eh. I went to dinner with Kayla, walking to Emmitsburg and such. Overpriced, have blisters, but it was good. Mass at noon at the grotto. Not bad. the Tenor was a bit much, but I'll blame the sound system
People are dumb.
No, they aren't. I love people.
I'm drained and sick offa too much chocolate.
I want you to open up, I want you to shut up, I want you to be honest, I'm not sure what to do with you, I want to cry on your shoulder, I want you to cry on mine, I want you to start loving, I want you to sober up...
I want to understand I want to stop screwing up I want to be the best person I can be for all of Yous.
I'm stuck in this same mindless drivel. not mindless. just neutral. Known. I'm bored with it.
God, just let me understand.
Or I'll just melt to the rhythms and voices of my Blue October. Feast my eyes on my Rice. Fade into temporary escstacy. Or nothingness. Depending on how you look at it.
I need discipline. But saying it doesn't cut it.
Maybe I miss my old mindset. Nope, I don't. But I do know it worked on some levels, and I get to figure out how to make those levels work with my new mindset.
I tell myself I suck and I don't believe it. Wow. Josh should be proud.
So now that I believe that I"m worth a damn...step two is to motivate myself to do something with it.
Happy Easter.
I spent it without my family for the first time. HOw I feel about it? Eh. I went to dinner with Kayla, walking to Emmitsburg and such. Overpriced, have blisters, but it was good. Mass at noon at the grotto. Not bad. the Tenor was a bit much, but I'll blame the sound system
People are dumb.
No, they aren't. I love people.
I'm drained and sick offa too much chocolate.
I want you to open up, I want you to shut up, I want you to be honest, I'm not sure what to do with you, I want to cry on your shoulder, I want you to cry on mine, I want you to start loving, I want you to sober up...
I want to understand I want to stop screwing up I want to be the best person I can be for all of Yous.
I'm stuck in this same mindless drivel. not mindless. just neutral. Known. I'm bored with it.
God, just let me understand.
Or I'll just melt to the rhythms and voices of my Blue October. Feast my eyes on my Rice. Fade into temporary escstacy. Or nothingness. Depending on how you look at it.
I need discipline. But saying it doesn't cut it.
Maybe I miss my old mindset. Nope, I don't. But I do know it worked on some levels, and I get to figure out how to make those levels work with my new mindset.
I tell myself I suck and I don't believe it. Wow. Josh should be proud.
So now that I believe that I"m worth a damn...step two is to motivate myself to do something with it.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Friday, March 21, 2008
Restless Soapbox
Image:
Sitting on the balcony outside my Holiday Inn hotel room in Raleigh, North Carolina. Black bars obstruct my view, because I'm sitting on the ground. Robin egg blue sky pureed with white cloud. The sun is shining in this one spot, and it feels nice, even though I can't see my computer screen. A backhoe is pushing clay-ridden dirt around the grounds of a church, which has an apse. Cars crawl by on the road beneath me. In the distance I see southern horizon - some type of deciduous trees sprinkled with lime green and yellowy and orangy dotty leaves, draped with what appears to be a type of spanish moss, stretching out for God knows how long. The underbrush is minimal. Blue October's "Consent to Treatment" album is playing from my speakers. The breeze is on the cold side, and gives me goose bumps, that the sun melts away almost as soon as they form. I've closed the Triscut box and put it out of arm's reach to stop myself from finishing the whole package. Instead I'm sipping a tiny Dasani. I like coke water. In an hour I'm walking a mile over to the Sacred Heart Cathedral for a liturgy. Tap water tastes like soil, the air smells a bit like southern comfort.
Thoughts:
I need to accomplish something. I think that's the antidote to this miserable boredom. Solitary accomplishment. I need a break from people. Not enough blood to feed the leeches.
I like traveling, but I'm not sure I have the whole concept of home mastered in a way that's completely portable just yet. But I think if I keep doing this, I will. It must have something to do with becoming comfortable with yourself, and becoming independent. I like seeing the world. At least America. It helps you see things in a big picture sense, it helps you understand people, if you give it enough time to stew in your brain.
It's a different lifestyle. Avril's "Mobile". It's like Rice's vampires: the whole world is your home. There are benefits and shortcomings to both ends of it.
I like being alone. I like being able to do my own thing. To interact with others on a superficial level, like in a coffee shop, and then go sit and read or people watch. Yes, I get lonely. But more often than not being alone is good.
I'm getting tired of playing the games. Emotional, Social, Collegiate...just let me be! Why can't we just be who we are, why can't people just mind their own shit? If they minded their own, it wouldn't be shit but could be sculpted into something beautiful. Spend time figuring out yourself, stop hurting others. I know it's impossible. But we could all be at a level much higher and closer to that ceiling of possibility. It's petty. It's immature. And yet, is it really immature, because I see so many "Mature" people running around making life more difficult for everyone else, highlighting the wrong things, blurring the reality of what really matters.
People matter. Souls matter. Say I love you when you mean it. Put the meaning back into love. Enjoy life, because you don't know what's going to happen tomorrow or next week or tonight. Handle people with care. Handle life with care. But suck the marrow out of it.
End of preaching.
P.S. I think the bars are painted with lead based paint.
Sitting on the balcony outside my Holiday Inn hotel room in Raleigh, North Carolina. Black bars obstruct my view, because I'm sitting on the ground. Robin egg blue sky pureed with white cloud. The sun is shining in this one spot, and it feels nice, even though I can't see my computer screen. A backhoe is pushing clay-ridden dirt around the grounds of a church, which has an apse. Cars crawl by on the road beneath me. In the distance I see southern horizon - some type of deciduous trees sprinkled with lime green and yellowy and orangy dotty leaves, draped with what appears to be a type of spanish moss, stretching out for God knows how long. The underbrush is minimal. Blue October's "Consent to Treatment" album is playing from my speakers. The breeze is on the cold side, and gives me goose bumps, that the sun melts away almost as soon as they form. I've closed the Triscut box and put it out of arm's reach to stop myself from finishing the whole package. Instead I'm sipping a tiny Dasani. I like coke water. In an hour I'm walking a mile over to the Sacred Heart Cathedral for a liturgy. Tap water tastes like soil, the air smells a bit like southern comfort.
Thoughts:
I need to accomplish something. I think that's the antidote to this miserable boredom. Solitary accomplishment. I need a break from people. Not enough blood to feed the leeches.
I like traveling, but I'm not sure I have the whole concept of home mastered in a way that's completely portable just yet. But I think if I keep doing this, I will. It must have something to do with becoming comfortable with yourself, and becoming independent. I like seeing the world. At least America. It helps you see things in a big picture sense, it helps you understand people, if you give it enough time to stew in your brain.
It's a different lifestyle. Avril's "Mobile". It's like Rice's vampires: the whole world is your home. There are benefits and shortcomings to both ends of it.
I like being alone. I like being able to do my own thing. To interact with others on a superficial level, like in a coffee shop, and then go sit and read or people watch. Yes, I get lonely. But more often than not being alone is good.
I'm getting tired of playing the games. Emotional, Social, Collegiate...just let me be! Why can't we just be who we are, why can't people just mind their own shit? If they minded their own, it wouldn't be shit but could be sculpted into something beautiful. Spend time figuring out yourself, stop hurting others. I know it's impossible. But we could all be at a level much higher and closer to that ceiling of possibility. It's petty. It's immature. And yet, is it really immature, because I see so many "Mature" people running around making life more difficult for everyone else, highlighting the wrong things, blurring the reality of what really matters.
People matter. Souls matter. Say I love you when you mean it. Put the meaning back into love. Enjoy life, because you don't know what's going to happen tomorrow or next week or tonight. Handle people with care. Handle life with care. But suck the marrow out of it.
End of preaching.
P.S. I think the bars are painted with lead based paint.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
One round of Jose Cuervo...
You know, it bothers me that "Teardrops on my Guitar" is number one. Wait, it's not the original, but the pop version. That's stupid. The country original sounds way better. The pop one sounds fake. It bugs me that people have to change the song into a pop version to embrace it, that apparently there's some sort of prejudice against country music.
All music should be loved, appreciated and embraced, if it is really music. If it comes from the soul. If it has the human element.
Could I get my readers to sound off and let me know how many of you are out there, and who you are? I don't care if you comment regularly or not, I'm just curious as to how many people take a peek at these once in a while. I'm calling out the lurkers especially. If you don't want to comment on this and would rather keep lurking, you can message me if you want. But yeah, I'm just curious.
The post secrets are pretty good this week. Or, at least, a lot of them either hit me hard or just struck me somehow. Go forth and read.
I might get to go to go to Anaheim. yes, Anaheim, CA. I've been there once, my freshman year of high school. It's the west side. It's...it's...damn. I shouldn't feel this connection to it. It's really not anywhere near my hometown. I don't know. I just wish I could go. But I've been there before. I've traveled before.
I'll just keep telling myself that.
I get to do laundry today. Maybe. And sew a button back on my coat. What fun. I get to be a woman today.
...
Oh god. Just shoot me now.
No, don't. I enjoy music too much. It's always been my savior. I enjoy that platonic orgasmic feeling too much to want to give it up for the risk of eternal damnation or nothingness.
I must be defective or something. We want what we can't have. And then we feel guilty for not embracing what we could. We feel guilty for the pain we cause others, feel just that much selfish, and yet despite the pain we cause in ourselves and others we keep on trucking with this stupid...
There must be something to it. Maybe it's just because we long for that ideal. That we know we won't be truly happy with anything else, or at least need to find out if it really has all been worth it, get that closure.
Until then we're just going to run around making ourselves and those who care most about us miserable, until we find happiness in death or before.
So what can we do to ward off the tears?
*turns on stereo*
Party like a Rock, party like a rockstar
Party like a rock, party like a rockstar...
*opens a bottle of amnesia*
Who wants to join me?
All music should be loved, appreciated and embraced, if it is really music. If it comes from the soul. If it has the human element.
Could I get my readers to sound off and let me know how many of you are out there, and who you are? I don't care if you comment regularly or not, I'm just curious as to how many people take a peek at these once in a while. I'm calling out the lurkers especially. If you don't want to comment on this and would rather keep lurking, you can message me if you want. But yeah, I'm just curious.
The post secrets are pretty good this week. Or, at least, a lot of them either hit me hard or just struck me somehow. Go forth and read.
I might get to go to go to Anaheim. yes, Anaheim, CA. I've been there once, my freshman year of high school. It's the west side. It's...it's...damn. I shouldn't feel this connection to it. It's really not anywhere near my hometown. I don't know. I just wish I could go. But I've been there before. I've traveled before.
I'll just keep telling myself that.
I get to do laundry today. Maybe. And sew a button back on my coat. What fun. I get to be a woman today.
...
Oh god. Just shoot me now.
No, don't. I enjoy music too much. It's always been my savior. I enjoy that platonic orgasmic feeling too much to want to give it up for the risk of eternal damnation or nothingness.
I must be defective or something. We want what we can't have. And then we feel guilty for not embracing what we could. We feel guilty for the pain we cause others, feel just that much selfish, and yet despite the pain we cause in ourselves and others we keep on trucking with this stupid...
There must be something to it. Maybe it's just because we long for that ideal. That we know we won't be truly happy with anything else, or at least need to find out if it really has all been worth it, get that closure.
Until then we're just going to run around making ourselves and those who care most about us miserable, until we find happiness in death or before.
So what can we do to ward off the tears?
*turns on stereo*
Party like a Rock, party like a rockstar
Party like a rock, party like a rockstar...
*opens a bottle of amnesia*
Who wants to join me?
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Warning: This could be blasphemous
So I thought I was totally over the fact that Brett Favre retired from my Packers. I was wrong. Today I got this week's issue of TIME, and of course, the sports article is about him. It brought everything back. Yes, I'm in mourning. Titletown will rise again - we had to lose Bart Starr eventually, and Brett's no different. It's just....*sigh*. It'll never, NEVER EVER be the same. Yes, I'm genuinely sad. Keep that in mind when you mock me.
But on a happier note, TIME's 10 Questions were to none other than...*drumroll*...ANNE RICE!!!!! Nothing I didn't already know...but I thought the picture of her was pretty good. Something struck me when I saw it - to think that the mind and imagination of this little cute old lady with a greying bob haircut gave birth to the most sensual, dark, passionate, luxurious, and philosophical creatures I know. This little old woman, clutching her rosary beads, asked questions and provided few answers, dared to literarily (yes my dear readers, that's a play on 'literary' and 'literally') desecrate Catholicism only decades later to literarily (there it is again) swear off her masterpiece, the world of her Brat Prince Lestat, and consecrate her future writings to Christ. The near 30 year old cult following, composed of the gothically inclined in body, mind or spirit, was orphaned by our Queen of Vampirism. The prophet of the Savage Garden would no longer serve as both herald and scribe of the Gospel According to the Damned. As her devotees mourned the loss, we hesitantly embrace the new Canon that cannot ever be Canon, for it is the story of Christ the Lord told from His eyes.
And yet there is hope on the horizon. A spark that may die in the air before it catches. The promise of one more novel. After the story of Christ is finished. Translation: we must wait at least four years. At the VERY least. Lestat will wrestle with and likely embrace Christianity. Rice vowed never to write her vampires in the same way again. And even so, she may decide to not tell this final part of the story. The great allegory of the desperately struggling soul, searching for truth may never be completed.
But the lips of Canon whisper possibilities, they whisper fetal hope. Will the Madonna of the Vampires conceive and bear a son, a reborn Lestat?
The possibility of playoffs early in the season is unspoken of amongst Cheeseheads - to speak of it may be enough to jinx the whole season. This may be true of the Vampire Chronicles as well.
But on a happier note, TIME's 10 Questions were to none other than...*drumroll*...ANNE RICE!!!!! Nothing I didn't already know...but I thought the picture of her was pretty good. Something struck me when I saw it - to think that the mind and imagination of this little cute old lady with a greying bob haircut gave birth to the most sensual, dark, passionate, luxurious, and philosophical creatures I know. This little old woman, clutching her rosary beads, asked questions and provided few answers, dared to literarily (yes my dear readers, that's a play on 'literary' and 'literally') desecrate Catholicism only decades later to literarily (there it is again) swear off her masterpiece, the world of her Brat Prince Lestat, and consecrate her future writings to Christ. The near 30 year old cult following, composed of the gothically inclined in body, mind or spirit, was orphaned by our Queen of Vampirism. The prophet of the Savage Garden would no longer serve as both herald and scribe of the Gospel According to the Damned. As her devotees mourned the loss, we hesitantly embrace the new Canon that cannot ever be Canon, for it is the story of Christ the Lord told from His eyes.
And yet there is hope on the horizon. A spark that may die in the air before it catches. The promise of one more novel. After the story of Christ is finished. Translation: we must wait at least four years. At the VERY least. Lestat will wrestle with and likely embrace Christianity. Rice vowed never to write her vampires in the same way again. And even so, she may decide to not tell this final part of the story. The great allegory of the desperately struggling soul, searching for truth may never be completed.
But the lips of Canon whisper possibilities, they whisper fetal hope. Will the Madonna of the Vampires conceive and bear a son, a reborn Lestat?
The possibility of playoffs early in the season is unspoken of amongst Cheeseheads - to speak of it may be enough to jinx the whole season. This may be true of the Vampire Chronicles as well.
Sunday, March 9, 2008
take this wine, and drink with me, let's forget our misery
I feel note-y.
I'm glad Dr. Kalas is going to be all right. Chemo sucks. Just ask my dad.
This past week has been one of the most insane ever. So intense, just, so intense. And yet I'm not even done with all the stuff I have to do.
See, it's kinda weird. It takes forever for the weeks to go by, because so much happens, so, so much. And then you blink and look around, and it's all gone, and you're staring at the end of the year, at forecasting courses for next semester. It's not even next year. They're calling it next semester, like there's no break.
I'm down with that.
I know I"m gonna blink and it'll be all over. So, I've decided. I'm diving head first into this new life. No more safety nets, no more hand holds. The only way I can find out if I'm built to fly is if I jump, free fall until the wind catches me.
"I cannot grow old in Salem's lot
So here I go is my shot.
Feet fail me not this may be the only opportunity that I got..."
I can't believe I'm not overwhelmed. I'm so happy, so so SO happy here. How is the even possible?
Screw what's supposed to happen, or knowing why. Live it. Woot.
Because the sun is shining.
Man, I'm never gonna get my work done. People keep wanting to talk to me. lol I guess that's the price of having friends. I'm more than happy to pay that. It'll just come at the price of sleep. And sleep is for the weak and the dead.
"save tonight, and fight the break of dawn, come tomorrow, tomorrow I'll be gone..."
Eh...God I'm happy.
I'm glad Dr. Kalas is going to be all right. Chemo sucks. Just ask my dad.
This past week has been one of the most insane ever. So intense, just, so intense. And yet I'm not even done with all the stuff I have to do.
See, it's kinda weird. It takes forever for the weeks to go by, because so much happens, so, so much. And then you blink and look around, and it's all gone, and you're staring at the end of the year, at forecasting courses for next semester. It's not even next year. They're calling it next semester, like there's no break.
I'm down with that.
I know I"m gonna blink and it'll be all over. So, I've decided. I'm diving head first into this new life. No more safety nets, no more hand holds. The only way I can find out if I'm built to fly is if I jump, free fall until the wind catches me.
"I cannot grow old in Salem's lot
So here I go is my shot.
Feet fail me not this may be the only opportunity that I got..."
I can't believe I'm not overwhelmed. I'm so happy, so so SO happy here. How is the even possible?
Screw what's supposed to happen, or knowing why. Live it. Woot.
Because the sun is shining.
Man, I'm never gonna get my work done. People keep wanting to talk to me. lol I guess that's the price of having friends. I'm more than happy to pay that. It'll just come at the price of sleep. And sleep is for the weak and the dead.
"save tonight, and fight the break of dawn, come tomorrow, tomorrow I'll be gone..."
Eh...God I'm happy.
Thursday, March 6, 2008
I'm your hostage.
Announcement: The management would like to officially welcome Kayla as potentially the first human reader of this blog. Now I can't hide anything from you. Love you dear.
~*~
So, last night, staying up until 4am again of course, Derek showed me this quote from one of his friend's facebooks.
It's by Neil Gaiman. He wrote Corraline, a book that I thought was actually really good and I finished in one night. Not Rice, but good stuff.
I would like to add, though, that rather than hating love, I love to hate love. Just think about the irony in that statement. JUST PONDER IT. Makes your brain explode, eh? Schweet.
Now that this is linked on my facebook, I should probably be a little more tactful with what I put on here.
Nah.
I'll just put up a thin veil of defense against people I'm pretty sure would stalk this. Ha, I should probably put up a disclaimer. Yeah, why not. :D
It's cold, but the sun shines now. I'm so excited for it. Camas probably isn't my favorite place. I'm just used to it. It's the people here I love. It's the independence. It's the...Mount. Really, it is. I think a lot of us were drawn here for a reason. A lot of my friends seemed to have fallen into coming here, somewhat like me. It kinda makes me wonder if there really is something...holy...here, something that draws people together for reasons that we can only know in hindsight.
Frankly I wouldn't be surprised.
~*~
So, last night, staying up until 4am again of course, Derek showed me this quote from one of his friend's facebooks.
“Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.”
It's by Neil Gaiman. He wrote Corraline, a book that I thought was actually really good and I finished in one night. Not Rice, but good stuff.
I would like to add, though, that rather than hating love, I love to hate love. Just think about the irony in that statement. JUST PONDER IT. Makes your brain explode, eh? Schweet.
Now that this is linked on my facebook, I should probably be a little more tactful with what I put on here.
Nah.
I'll just put up a thin veil of defense against people I'm pretty sure would stalk this. Ha, I should probably put up a disclaimer. Yeah, why not. :D
It's cold, but the sun shines now. I'm so excited for it. Camas probably isn't my favorite place. I'm just used to it. It's the people here I love. It's the independence. It's the...Mount. Really, it is. I think a lot of us were drawn here for a reason. A lot of my friends seemed to have fallen into coming here, somewhat like me. It kinda makes me wonder if there really is something...holy...here, something that draws people together for reasons that we can only know in hindsight.
Frankly I wouldn't be surprised.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Finding my way back to sanity
The last 24 hours have been a reminder of some of the reasons why this is entitled "The Other Side of Sanity."
I want to cry. My life is filled with happiness and confusion and revulsion and I praise God for all of it.
People have been opening up and pouring out their souls before my eyes. I think it started on the Thursday morning before break, with Derek, and then after break Lauren and Andy. You have the full spectrum with the three. I asked Derek, I didn't ask Lauren but now I welcome her with open arms, and Andy I didn't ask and I'm not sure if I want it.
I know I'm blessed. I know I have it good, and I thank God for it every day. I can't imagine the suffering my friends have gone through. I see myself as a personification of Catherine from Austen's Northanger Abbey. I have a relatively perfect up bringing. Ok, I shouldn't say perfect. It has been good. My parents are together, they have money, I have no real tragedies in my life. I have been spared. But WHY?? I want to know. And now the question grows, with people opening their souls to me. I ask why? WHY ME? I see nothing special. Is it because I am a whole person, or close to it? My life hasn't been broken by tragedy?
I honestly don't know what people see in me. Do they see that I won't break what they give me, that I'll try to keep it safe and the pieces whole? Could that be so special?
Today I didn't have class so I slept. I woke up and went and got afternoon food (they really need a term for Lunch/dinner) with Lauren and Rena. On the way back I was overcome with this feeling of intense happiness. Of Joy. It's crazy, but it almost brought me to the edge. Another mental snapshot to add to the stash of memories that will never dim. Another was on the way to BWI. I'm not entirely certain why.
I want to cry. My life is filled with happiness and confusion and revulsion and I praise God for all of it.
People have been opening up and pouring out their souls before my eyes. I think it started on the Thursday morning before break, with Derek, and then after break Lauren and Andy. You have the full spectrum with the three. I asked Derek, I didn't ask Lauren but now I welcome her with open arms, and Andy I didn't ask and I'm not sure if I want it.
I know I'm blessed. I know I have it good, and I thank God for it every day. I can't imagine the suffering my friends have gone through. I see myself as a personification of Catherine from Austen's Northanger Abbey. I have a relatively perfect up bringing. Ok, I shouldn't say perfect. It has been good. My parents are together, they have money, I have no real tragedies in my life. I have been spared. But WHY?? I want to know. And now the question grows, with people opening their souls to me. I ask why? WHY ME? I see nothing special. Is it because I am a whole person, or close to it? My life hasn't been broken by tragedy?
I honestly don't know what people see in me. Do they see that I won't break what they give me, that I'll try to keep it safe and the pieces whole? Could that be so special?
Today I didn't have class so I slept. I woke up and went and got afternoon food (they really need a term for Lunch/dinner) with Lauren and Rena. On the way back I was overcome with this feeling of intense happiness. Of Joy. It's crazy, but it almost brought me to the edge. Another mental snapshot to add to the stash of memories that will never dim. Another was on the way to BWI. I'm not entirely certain why.
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