an outdated map

Sorrow drips into your heart through a pinhole
Just like a faucet that leaks and there is comfort in the sound
But while you debate half empty or half full
It slowly rises, your love is gonna drown…
[Death Cab for Cutie] 

And I am counting down the days by the leaves on the green green grass. There is a lawn that I always pass when I am walking back to my apartment. A big old tree stands with branches so high you cant see them touch the sky and a trunk so wide, your hands cant fully wrap around it. And the sun sets, spreading its curious rays right over the tree and the patch of this green thick grass. And these rays. These rays make the yellow leaves on the ground look like gold. And I am always so mesmerized by its simple beauty. And each day, the grass becomes more golden.

My heart is dressed in melancholy. For what occasion? Oh. Just cause.
 
I spent the weekend with my family for Rosh Hoshana [Jewish New Year]. Delicious food covered the table from end to end. I bought my mom a cd of yidish songs and the ancient words danced all around the room. The words spoke of memories. Memories with Grandpa. I sighed. This was his favorite holiday. We would always argue over which prayers to say and when. He was old fashioned and I was modern. The rest of the family would look up at us with big eyes of confusion. And somehow we would conform and agree and in one big hoar, he and I would lean over the edge of the big table with big shiny Kiddush cups full of wine. “Baruch Adonai…”
 
Around the Jewish Holidays, I especially miss grandpa. Moy dedushka.
 
This year, the clock rang 11pm and my dad told stories quietly with his story-telling voice. My relatives listened carefully. And my brother and I were curled up on the couch. Sleeping. Sometimes my brother would dream something and moved his leg and it woke me up. “You slept like a dog,” I told him later. He gave out a laugh as if it was the funniest thing.
 
I have been listening heavily to Death Cab for Cutie. It is in preparation. I am going to see them in November. (!!!!)
 
My parents gave me a whole basket of plums. Fresh squishy purple juicy plums. The sweetness runs amok all over my taste buds. I keep the basket by my desk. In protection. Marina adores fruits. Before I can even blink, she can probably eat a dozen apples. When Im tired of words and numbers and homework, I wash a few of these plums and secretly run into my room and savor the goodness.
 
Sometimes when I walk by a male, the smell of his pheromones hits my nose so hard, I almost stop in my tracks. It is strong and biological. And it is a smell of cologne mixed in with sweat. And it makes my heart pitter-patter as if I am just an animal on a reproductive hunt. It is so instinctual. And it reminds me how much my life lacks males. Today Eitan, the Community Advisor, waved and said hi to me. And I waved back with a smile. And he probably waves to a million people in a day because he is just one of those really nice guys and he wont remember the moment of the eye connection and mutual smiling. But I will. I will remember. Because it is one of those small things that can make your day.
 
Lately the sky has been so blue. Infinite and ethereal. I want to pour the color into a little charm and hang it around my neck. And when people say, “Oh whats that?” Id smile and say it’s the color of my soul. Blue skies.
 
I wore new shoes today. I got two big shiny red blisters on my toes. The size of planets! I remember when I bought them at the store, they were comfortable. All worn in from all the million people trying them on. So now my mission is to wear them in. Maybe that is life. New shoes. Hmm.
 
We have really loud crickets surrounding the apartment. They are singing when the moon shines and even when the sun shines. At first, they were pretty neat. But now. I just want to eat my cereal in peace without their whispering. What are they whispering about, anyways?
 
I keep getting this flash. A memory flash. And I don’t even know why. It is like a song I cant get out of my head. It is this image of me sitting in the car with Alex. It was the morning after we had kissed. It was the morning after we spent the night together, curled up in our arms and legs and hearts. It was the morning I was going home. And we sat inside his car. And stared out at the parking lot. And I remember my heart was on a pulley. Being pulled heavily towards my toes and it played with the strings of my sadness. I was holding back oceans of tears. And I felt this urge to say something neat and perfect. And I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. We turned to one another. And he put my small hands in his, and he looked me in the eyes, the way only he knew how to do, and he said “You are beautiful.” And in that moment. He was gripping my hands and my soul, trying to convince me that I am beautiful. I was lost. I remember I tried to hide in his chest. Just so he would stop convincing me.
 
These days, I feel like a blurry face. These days, I want to erase my face. Just be a sphere of one color. Orange, yellow, blue, black etc etc etc. Can I erase my face?
 
I don’t like it when people tell me that I can do everything that I want to do. Because it makes me feel useless. Because I feel like I am doing nothing. If I can do everything, then how come I am not doing it?
 
I am in love with shadows. They haunt me with their uniqueness. And. I wonder. Does anyone notice how the shadows fall? They form shapes and figures that stories are made up of.
 
Lately Ive been worried that I am off rhythm. That my friends are on this one rhythm. And I am on a completely different one. And we keep missing each other.
 
Is it possible to completely incomplete?
 
Sometimes. Words are like tornadoes in my mind. And I never have enough pens and pencils and papers to sustain it all.