past lives

i may have missed the myspace trend but i was all about xanga back in college, which resulted in 4 different blogs. after fallouts with various people and feeling overexposed, i turned everything private and stopped writing, spare a few private posts when i just needed to vent somewhere. it's so fascinating to go back sometimes and read things i wrote and remember what happened, or better put, try to decipher my cryptic posts and overuse of pronouns.

some are as recent as last year:

Sunday, September 16, 2007

something more fact than fiction

she wakes to the morning sun. not shining in her window,
but reflecting off the windows across the street. she rolls
over; he's still sleeping. his tan chest, smooth and warm
to the touch, rises and falls almost unnoticeably. she kisses
him gently on his neck, snuggling up against him, stirring
him. goodmorning, she whispers. he responds with something
between a purr and a sigh. his arms find their way;
hands move across her exposed body. legs intertwined,
their lips and bodies meet in the morning heat.
.....

he asks for something to drink though she only has tap water.
it'll have to do. she grabs her shirt from the floor and pads
into the kitchen. he's following her. she pours him a glass
of refrigerated tap water and steps into the bathroom. when
she comes out, the water is gone and he's back in the bedroom,
half dressed. can i smoke on the balcony, he asks politely.

sitting on the floor next to the mattress, in front of the sliding
glass door, knees up to his chest, he lights his cigarette. she
makes her way over and sits on the mattress behind him. with
her legs on either side of him, her head fits perfectly in the
space between his shoulder blades, her arms around him.

they sit and watch the early morning light crawl down the
buildings outside, interrupted by the smoke of his cigarette
and untroubled, unhurried conversation. the left over scent
of his cologne catches on the wind; inhaling deeply, she finds
herself wishing that every morning was like this.

3:27 PM


and others, five years ago:

Tuesday, September 16, 2003

suddenly, i don't know how to get out of bed
how to put on my jeans
or how i always brush my teeth

i vaguely remember what classes i have
and what days they're on
and in what classroom

but my notes are just jumbles
and the discussions swirl around me
and i never hear the words

i see familiar faces as i walk down the path
but wonder if i'd recognize my own
if i looked straight into the glass

somehow i find my bed again
and realize it's where i sleep
but can't remember how to get back in again

2:49 PM


i just realized that both of these posts were on september 16, by total coincidence, a few days from today. so many things have changed and yet they are still so much the same sometimes.

both the changing and staying the same are good things, i think.