we are shaking the tree

i seem to be at a loss for words lately.

which is ridiculous, really, because so much happens, so many things occur in the small spaces of time i drift through that my documentation could be through the roof. the past week has been, without a doubt, one of the strangest, most heartbreakingly wonderful [and, at times, godawful] period of time. small snippets seem to stand out.

i'm thinking of the taste of cigarettes on kiersten's veranda after a night of gokarting, ice cream cake, expected revelations, and whiskey out of big paper cups.

i'm remembering the smell of my floor as i sprawled across it- soft, like murphy's wood oil soap. mika blaring, followed by alexisonfire, u2, and etta james, the sun burned a path in oblique angles as i remembered how to exhale.

i'm feeling the arms of my mother, my melissa, my evil stepmother, and especially my james as they descended on my home. i can feel their teeth, hear their hearts as i feel the grass of parliament, the cover of the stormtrooper helmet, the taste of mexican food and sangria.

i'm laughing at the three most important words in a play, said with a russian accent by necessity.

and my thoughts on graduation are, also by necessity, indeliable. that piece of paper is worth more to me than words can say. my absence from the group photo will dig at me forever. and myself- well, this can hardly be about the adventure of a twenty-ish university student anymore, can it?

i'll have to find my words. once i do, everything will be ok.