document kerry blather is a record of my adolescence. i was constantly in love, always thinking, about fearing time and how it passes and hoping i could find some way to slow it down. i was always doing something and everything was new, everything was either beautiful or hideous, everyone was either authentic or totally full of shit, and i miss those eyes that were exploring the world around me. i was ravenous, and now i have to remind myself to eat. is it just the pain of growing up or is it something bigger? i think probably more the former, less the latter. some things are the same–the constant longing to be elsewhere, the feeling that i may be crazy and not know it, ambivalence about purpose and fate versus happenstance. carrie said not to be worried that there’s still a core, that it is possible to be that person again, that i’m only half living in the world and i need to be living more, and i laughed and said “i guess i do have one foot in this world and the other–i don’t know, maybe i only have one foot?” 211209 ... epitome of incomprehensibility I reread notebooks I wrote in when I was seventeen or eighteen, and I'm envious of the energy, the curiosity to learn, even if I cringe at some of the cluelessness. I_want_to_learn amplified, extended in various directions. I was better at drawing then. I'm better at writing now. I don't have enough time. I have too much time on my hands. 211210 ... e_o_i All that to say that this paragraph resonated: :i was always doing something and everything was new, everything was either beautiful or hideous, everyone was either authentic or totally full of shit, and i miss those eyes that were exploring the world around me." Not an exact echo. Sometimes I had a youthful "meh"-ness, thinking it cooler not to gush or rant, plus a habit of looking for middle ground when confronted with opposing ideas. But a resonance? Yes yes and yes. 211210 ... e_o_i questions a punctuato (how are colons punctuation marks? gah.) 211210 what's it to you? who go blather from