this is the sound of settling

Sometimes I like to close my eyes and pretend I am standing on the peak of a mountain. Sometimes I like to close my eyes and pretend I am on a beach. Sometimes I just like to pretend.
 
Today I woke on the right side of the bed and I just opened up my eyes and I smiled. Good morning, life. Good morning lamp. Good morning teddy bear. Good morning sun. I am ready.
 
I feel like life is
s
   n
i   
       p
          i
      t
 s
 
Everything is broken up into pieces and we are just picking them up. Oh there lies that piece of happiness. And ooh, I cant believe that piece of naughtiness was hiding under the nook of the couch.
 
I read a poem this evening:
 

Knee Song

Being kissed on the back

of the knee is a moth

at the windowscreen and

yes my darling a dot

on the fathometer is

tinkerbelle with her cough

and twice I will give up my

honor and stars will stick

like tacks in the night

yes oh yes yes yes two

little snails at the back

of the knee building bon-

fires something like eye-

lashes something two zippos

striking yes yes yes small

and me maker.

-Anne Sexton

 
The words felt like raindrops on my tongue and honey on my heart.
 
Everyone asks. Everyone pushes and pulls. Towards the question, “What do you want to do with your life?” And I want to sit them down on a quiet bench. And when they are looking around, and their heads are turned, Id whisper in their ears. Softly. “It is okay. You don’t have to worry. You don’t have to plan your life out. Concentrate on today. On tomorrow. You can always change your mind.”
 
Ive stopped worrying about the future. It is dark. But the only way it will become lighter is when I step closer to it. And that’s all we can do. Step. One foot in front of the other, like a good patient soldier.
 
I tossed and turned last night. I had a dream about Vadim, as if he was right there in front of me. With grinning eyes. With his one quiet dimple on the right side of his smile. I reached out and touched him. And he was real. And he wasn’t a one night stand.
 
Sometimes I feel like my limbs are curved for one night stands. And my heart is left hanging loose.
 
What am I supposed to do with memories? What am I supposed to do with flashes so strong that overtake my body like an earthquake and make my soul tremble.
 
“I wish things could have been different.” I want to email him. What will be the point?
 
On the other side of the planet, in Argentina, a fish died today. A fish that Liz bought with Andres. I remembered my goldfish when I was 14. I named her BB because she had a big tail and if I said “big tail” 20 times fast, then it came out to be BB. I used to sing to her. The bowl would be high up and Id be below, making all sorts of fish faces with my young lips and singing “put your left fin in and then spin it all around…”
 
The best story about BB is when my grandpa was changing the water in her bowl. He had a whole system for it, with big plastic bottles of water and bowls. One day he came running into the living room, while I was watching tv and in a horror stricken voice announced “your fish fell into the garbage disposal.” I squealed and jumped up. And demanded “You must get it out!” so my grandfather, with his big hands reached deep into the dark hole of a garbage disposal and pulled out my orange friend. I remember the feeling of glee when he set her into the water and she wobbled a bit, and then straightened herself out and then made her usual smiling fish face at me. Ever since that day, my grandpa claimed that she gained big bulgy eyes from him squeezing her too much.
 
Sometimes I think you can know a person and then there will always be something that surprises you about them. And that is why humans and friendships are amazing. Every person is an infinite journey all in themselves.
 
I want to hop on a plane and fly through your blue sky heart.
 
Today I met with my Russian professor, and she tried to explain to me the ways of the language and it seemed so intricate. And language always amazes me. How did these things come about? How did someone turn gibberish into a language? And its funny because I speak it and now I am learning the rules of why I am speaking the way I am.
 
Ive realized I am too much. Too too too much. I always try to multi-task. I cant do one thing at one time. I must always be doing several things at once, with my hands and eyes and ears and body in action and thought. It is a display of how I want to do everything. I want to be the doctor, the researcher, the poet, the pilot, the teacher, the mother, the runner, the gardener, the novelist, the painter, the singer, the dancer, the filmmaker, the photographer, the comedian, the traveler, the peacemaker, etc etc etc etc
 
There is a saying in Russian. “You cant go to two weddings at once.”
 
I guess if I was ever to be in a relationship, he’d have to be just as crazy as me. Willing to attempt the impossible.
 
I had really been upset with Marina the other day. And its interesting how we evolve into adults. It is interesting how we handle friendships as we get older. I remember in 3rd grade, you could attain a friend by scribbling “will you be my friend?” in a notebook, ripping the page out, folding it perfectly and giving it to your wannabe friend. They’d smile and say yes of course I’ll be your friend but then recess came and they didnt pick you to be on their kickball team and that was the end of that friendship.
 
But now. I entered the room. Cleared my throat and said “Marina, I really didn’t like what happened last night. It made me really upset.” And she looked me in the eyes and nodded and I sat next to her. And we were both sad, with our heads bent low and she apologized and tried to kiss my arm. And I smiled and said “I accept your apology”. And we were back to being marina and Elina.
 
Confrontation is entirely frightening. But it’s my motto in life. No drama. Im sticking to it, like hot glue. Resolving things is key to a peace of mind.
 
 

"Sometimes i think this cycle never ends
We slide from top to bottom and we turn and climb again
And it seems by the time that i have figured what it’s worth
The squeaking of our skin against the steel has gotten worse."

-Deathcab for Cutie, Expo 86