I don’t exactly know what to make of this week, to be honest. For one, I had my first good experience at Kelly’s literally ever. I went with a couple friends from the paper, but ran into a lot of other friends too, and had a great time. It was actually nice outside too, so we walked home which oddly is a walk I kind of miss since not living on campus.
Wednesday night was the most fun night I’ve had in a long time in general. My friends and I made the more or less impromptu decision to have a spring-kickoff barbecue and it was fantastic. I really enjoy hosting generally, and adding beautiful weather and getting to grill a wide variety of meats to that endeavor was the perfect storm for a great night. The first of two nights this week that ended in a fire, I genuinely do not think there was a single thing I could’ve asked for that would’ve made that night better.
I also got to see some of my oldest friends who I hadn’t seen in a while on Friday. Those guys have been constants in my life for literally the entire time I’ve been conscious, and seeing them always makes me feel at home. We sat around the fire and shot the shit for a few hours, and it was a really nice evening. Love you boys, forever and always.
I went home Thursday, and that’s where things get sort of weird. I think it’s just because I’m ready to move on with my life, and home always feels like a step backwards, but my anxiety spikes whenever I go home. I love my family, and it was really beautiful there with the new spring blooms, but every night I went to sleep over this Easter break it took me HOURS to finally fall asleep. It certainly didn’t help that I forgot melatonin, but usually I can still overcome that. This week though, I just had to try everything until I finally fell asleep.
Writing helped the most, of course. My personal journal is filled with night-time rantings that have helped me sleep. As an aside, I’ve always liked the phrase “an honest man’s pillow is his peace,” except that it makes me somewhat sad. I’ve never found peace in a pillow, only anxiety. I consider myself one of the most honest people I know; I genuinely lack the ability to lie in most situations, unless it’s to protect someone or if I’ve planned it in advance (and in that case, I still don’t lie well). Still, night time is a time for overthinking, delivering impassioned monologues to people who won’t ever hear them, and stressing over events I have no control over. I’ve always had this issue, and writing is the only thing I’ve found that even remotely helps. I guess that’s my form of honesty. I try not to hold anything back when I write, especially in personal journals, which is honesty in its own right I suppose.
This week led me back to poetry for the first time in so long I can’t remember. That felt good, even though it made me a bit sad to get out. I wrote three, one of which I published earlier this week. I hope I can get back into writing poetry, it helps me get a lot out quickly and usually by accident. I might try to go back through my old writing and publish some over the coming weeks. We shall see.
Regardless, I’m back at school now and back into the crunch time of things. Making the most of my time is tiring at times, but I don’t think I’ll regret a bit of sleeplessness and fatigue in the long run. Now that I’m back in my own bed, I’m hoping sleep comes a bit faster.
Song of the Week:
The Line 
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