Nightowls and Earlybirds.

this is the first blog post that i've made since the school year started.
hell, since summer.
but a colleague (aka. my english professor) told me how "bomb" and "tight" my work was, so I'm trying to get back into it.
and since my mind has been confusing to me lately, i'm writing more for the sake of organizing it.

school has begun.
i've been here for two months and started a new job;
a job that requires my early eyes rather than my more attentive late ones.
and man, the coffee isn't helping my wires run right anymore.
at least, not like they did when the moon was out or when the sun was low.
the electricity that is my body isn't brightening the light bulb,
but dimming it so that it's barely on;
so that my early-bird eyes can see
and my night-owl ones can rest.

i miss my night-owl friends.

i went to the beach on saturday, stuck my toes in the sand,
and just breathed.
i thought of life, staring at the glimmering waters and the clouds rolling in,
and remembered that there's so much to begin.
as well as stick to.
i'm glad for the things i have, i realized, sitting on that soft floor,
wrapped in a blanket, i'm reminded of what i'm searching for.

i realized recently that i've already found it.
however, there's so much work to be done and that something has got to wait.
that's what i've been told before, and that's what i will do again.
i'll wait.

but waiting has it's limits.
and my limits are growing, and unlike someone i know, i can't stretch them out.
but i want to.
i want to make you proud.
i want to make thems proud.
i want to make myself proud.

i'm the person that's used to handling everything, carrying all the weight and still being strong enough to lift more the next day.
for a long time, i've carried other peoples weight, but now that it's my own..
it's so much more to hold than i ever thought possible.

the thing keeping me going is support.
support from Castro Valley,
Dublin,
San Diego,
and L.A.
all the different places, all those different faces,
makes me think that San Francisco is a destination,
not a permanent home.

i don't mind that i have to roam.
because i'm the kind of girl that can fit in anywhere, right?

i'm afraid of breaking down.
of collapsing from the weight and being buried alive.
i want to survive, and there's a hand there, ready to pick me back up.
and man, i hope it's yours.