Bottled

You’d think for a 21-year-old still in college, my tolerance would be more impressive than it is. One glass of wine and I feel my head swimming, shoulders relaxing, head nodding off. It’s close to the end of the semester, and it has by no means been easy, but this week hasn’t been as bad as I thought it would be. Maybe I’m staying ahead of my classes, but something is telling me to keep going, that within the next few weeks something unexpected will come up that will require a lot of time and attention, that will stress me out.

But for now I’m just looking forward to Thanksgiving Break. It’s barely a break. Again I am faced with having too many people to see and not enough time to see them, which is more a blessing than a problem. My schedule is already so jam-packed with seeing friends and family that I don’t have time to work! Ryan and I will finally be reunited and have a chance to head to the bars together (milestones!!), Thanksgiving with the Anderson’s is guaranteed to take up all my time and energy Thursday, and Ryan and I are going to see a Caps game that Friday (my first, and I’m so excited that I actually had a dream about it last night!). Saturday will be another family day, and hopefully one much-needed.

Between my own struggles, my mom’s struggles, and my sister’s struggles, I ache to just have those normal moments again. When no one is too sensitive or too tired. When no one is faking it. It’s all felt a bit brittle lately.

I’ve felt guilty for spending so much time with my friends instead of my family, but I’ve started to realize that it’s more so their distractions and positivity. Sometimes I feel the need to talk about it, and on those days I have a select few that I know I can lean on, but most of the time I’m looking for an escape from the negativity that occasionally invades my life. On those days, leaning on my goofiest friends is the best medicine, and I’m very thankful to have people in my life that are so happy being simple-minded (in a good way).

I say that I struggle, and some of my problems are no easy feat, but a lot of them are teeny tiny on this earth. Nothing some chocolate and a good glass of wine can’t fix.

Thank you for enabling my habit (be it writing or wining).

Dani

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Sensory Wisdom

I’m a naive little 21-year-old. Does red wine have artificial coloring? If it does, don’t tell me, or my purple mustache; I’m enjoying it too much.

This week has been less stressful. I’m not sure if I’m coping, if I’m out of the woods, or if I’m just excited. That’s not to say it’s been an easy week; I still find myself deep in thought every day. Missing people I shouldn’t, mostly. Missing things I should. But also appreciating things I have. Some things have certainly changed from when I was 16 or 17. I feel a more positive force in myself.

I really think it has come from this summer. This wasn’t an easy summer between school and work and dramatic situations, but I still stand by it was life-changing. I learned so much about myself from being on my own for the first time in a long time. I had time to myself, to evaluate and feel without thinking. I definitely think too much. I used to catch myself laughing, question what it was that I was enjoying about that moment. Now I’ve made the decision to just let myself feel it and not worry, wonder, or care why I’m enjoying it. I think it’s helped prolong my happiness.

I’m excited to return to the mountains. And I don’t know what to do with myself, and I’m not as afraid of that as I thought I would be. Instead, I’ll hike, I’ll write, and I’ll work. The future is full of possibilities, and I have to take them.

Candles are a godsend. Today in my argumentation and public policy class, we talking about monuments and memorials and their different representational characteristics. We talked about how water is seen as rebirth, a force of life, etc. And I think fire is the same way. Maybe that’s not a new thought, but there’s something so powerful and mesmerizing about fire that it has to be a source of life. Do you think people that go to Hell have to stay there? Do you think the fire just cleanses them for their new life? Hmm. What a theory.

It’s unbelievable how powerful smell is too. It can create peace, it can trigger trauma. People have different pasts. I’m not sure if that’s something I just recently figured out – I used to be bewildered driving on the highway, thinking about how everyone in the cars around me had different lives; they have different pasts, they were on the road for different reasons, they were going through different points in time and life. So I guess it’s not new, but when my roommate says she hasn’t seen some of my favorite, childhood Halloween movies, I guess it just strikes me again.

Sometimes I think I’m just connected to a different emotional version of the world. Sometimes I can disassociate from problems in order to deal with them, and for some reason I consider myself strong during those times, if not a little heartless. But there are other times I just feel connected on a different level, with a different understanding. I can’t explain it, though this is the first time I’ve tried. I’ll try again later.

I remember that time we ran from my car to your house, soaked within the first ten leaps. I asked for clothes, and you gave me the pants I always borrowed and an old t-shirt you wouldn’t miss (though when have I ever not given your clothes back?). I changed and when you walked in, your drunk eyes lit up as I shrunk into your shirt, embarrassed at being ogled by you. I’ll remember that as I try to forget you.

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Rose Wine Declaration

Crimson bliss transfers a scarlet glow
while bodies twine and tangle,
the amber bottle drawn across its watercolor tarp.

A blushing taste,
that wicked, vermilion sin.

The ghoulish glare a Van Gogh starry night,
and sweet, azure songs pressed upon
a marbled, technicolor canvas.

Freckled kisses,
clenched and clasped, smooth electric skin.

Rose wine promises trill and whisper,
infrared flames lick at her lungs
an inferno writhing against his affirmation.

Frail divulgence
and a brush of rare artistry.