i've always wanted to be one of those people who can go outside and point at any tree/bird/bug/etc and know exactly what species they are. this has been one of my main goals over the past few years. i could never be bothered to learn about the flora and fauna of other places though. i was always somewhat interested, but i just never cared as much... you could show me the coolest bird in the world and i would still rather watch the turkey vultures circling around south quad.

i've realized that the main thing keeping me in the midwest is the native flora and fauna. i see the land as a person and i am so deeply in love with her! a few weeks ago one of my horticulture professors was talking to me about how she when moved down here from chicago for grad school she was shocked to see sweetgum trees for the first time. northern illinois is too cold for a sweetgum. i keep saying that people can come and go as they please, but the cold hardiness of a tree will never change.

i've been reading a lot of aldo leopold lately. freshman year i read the land ethic for an intro to environmental science class and it changed my life. i finally got around to reading the rest of a sand county almanac. he talks a lot about how we need to see the land as part of our community. we are so intertwined with nature whether we choose to be aware of it or not. i've decided to be aware of it.

a few days later, i was rewatching me and you and everyone we know (2005) and i noticed that so many people were wearing stripes. i feel like people don’t wear stripes anymore! so, my second new year’s resolution is to wear more stripes. i have made no progress towards this goal yet but that’s fine.

over winter break i spent… i don’t even know how many hours… sewing an absurd amount of buttons onto a bag i knit. i did nothing but sew buttons onto that bag for days. i barely left my room and i definitely didn’t leave my house. honestly i think it’s what i needed. i always talk about how i need more tangible activities in my life, and while i do think i have an abundance of tangible hobbies, it’s easy to get distracted by the idea of the end result and forget to appreciate the process.

this bag might just be my favorite thing i’ve ever made. it’s kind of an eternal work in progress, but then again so am i. it was a lot of work and took forever to create, just like all of the most important things in my life. i don’t really know if i’ll ever use it, but this was more of an art project than an accessory anyways.

while sewing, i spent a lot of time thinking about jane brocket and how she can measure her life in sewing machines. i remember the first time i read this post. it was probably a year or two ago. i come back to it every few months. the comment section is full of women talking about their sewing machines and whether or not they think their current machines will see them out. all of these women were only on their first or second sewing machines by the time they were my age. there is so much life ahead of me!

a few weeks ago my little cousin asked me what kind of music i listen to. i said i don’t know how to answer that. she said “that’s fair… everything but country?” and i said no, i like country. she said “oh… like old country?” and i said yes but not just old country. she said oh. she reminds me a lot of my younger self. she asked me what my favorite movies were and i said ohh that’s a tough question… (unfortunately with the intent to gatekeep, sorry! i’m working on it but, just like everyone else, i am a hypocrite at my core) what are yours? quite frankly i don’t remember what she said next. i told her she wouldn’t like any movie i have to recommend because i love slow paced movies where nothing happens. she said oh… you’re right i wouldn’t like that. i got up and left to help my mom with something. i didn’t really realize how much i’ve changed until recently. all of my feelings used to be so… big. it was never quiet. i was always drowning out the noise with more noise. at some point over the past few years i learned to love silence. my mind grew quiet. growing up i guess?

i think that a lot of things really do not need explanations and, in fact, are much better without explanations. words are so limiting. everything is connected in ways you can’t even begin to comprehend until you look at the bigger picture and the words get too small to read. i’ve been thinking a lot about the concept of an internal monologue for the past few weeks. i don’t think i have one. i think in vague concepts and diagrams, not words. sometimes i get stuck on a single word or sentence or phrase, but then that word or sentence or phrase turns into a vague concept. the most recent example of this is grebes. i don’t have the words to elaborate on this further. sometimes things are too big for words.

for the past few months i haven’t been able to fall asleep, so of course i started counting. unfortunately i got too good at counting backwards by threes many years ago. so i started counting in italian instead, which also didn’t help very much (although i am a lot better at numbers in italian now which is kinda cool). i think i’m just not meant to sleep well.

lately i’ve been really into the idea of being a shepherd. a while ago i was really into the idea of being a beekeeper. i like the idea of hanging out with a large group of generally chill creatures. and perhaps i believe deep down in my heart that they hold the secrets to the universe. but quite frankly i think i just need more tangible activities in my day-to-day life. winter is kind of terrible for me because it’s such a pain to drop everything and just go for a 5 mile walk. that doesn’t stop me, of course, but it’s definitely more of a situation.

the other week i thrifted a sweater and upon further examination realized it was knit in stockinette, but the stockinette side was on the inside. this doesn’t really seem important but it was kind of everything to me at the time. i never really considered that the “wrong” side could be the right side…

every few weeks i feel the need to move to minnesota and i’m not really sure why.

i really don’t know what any of this means but i’m sure it’s connected because everything is connected i just don’t have time to get into that right now

my goal going into this school year was to be more openly lame.

i don’t particularly miss high school or my high school self but i really do admire how openly lame i was. at some point at the beginning of college i started feeling much more shame about everything all of the time. even if i wasn’t actively embarrassed by certain things, i would still try to keep them under wraps. although i do think some things are sacred and need to be kept close, it’s important that it’s for the right reasons. and i fear that the primary reason for me keeping things under wraps was shame! which is very unfortunate! i’ve realized that i’m not really the pretentious type and constantly judging myself and others so harshly isn’t very fun and it simply makes me more cynical and bitter. at my core i am not a cynical or bitter person. of course i’m not perfect and i can be judgemental and mean kind of often, but i like to think that my default state is one of general contentedness. i am very happy with the life that i live and the people i surround myself with.

anyways, i think i am already somewhat openly lame. i probably have more in common with the average 8 year old boy than i do with most people my age. although… i do think that my hobbies and interests are not really the parts of my life in which i feel the most shame. that may be a goal for next semester though…

hi guys (again). i’m currently in a hotel room in moline. i kinda feel like i’m in an alternate universe. i’ve been sitting on this post for a few days because i feel like i have so much more to say about this topic. like seriously it’s all i’ve been thinking about for weeks. i think i am sick of endlessly sitting on substack posts. i think that this post is sufficient. there is no more information that i care to share. i hope you’re all doing well.

bye guys :)

the planters on the patio are full of weeds because we never bothered to plant anything else. i’ve started eating the horseweed just because i can (it’s edible don’t fret!!). my last crop sciences class made me appreciate weeds so much more than i thought i could appreciate anything so… bothersome. i mean weeds are kinda awesome if you think about it. just look into glyphosate resistance. i started reading the klamath knot again so i’ve been thinking a lot about evolution.

“evolution has no sense of history. it does not abandon past accomplishments to the fossil museum, but continues to play with them as though they’d happened yesterday”

- david rains wallace

the idea of evolution having no sense of history is really interesting. history used to feel like everything to me. one of the things i admire most about nature is its focus on the present. ivy covers abandoned buildings and weeds grow in sidewalk cracks. the ivy doesn’t care what once was and the weeds don’t care that they’ll be stepped on or mowed or pulled out of the ground. they exist purely to exist. kind of awesome if you ask me…

okay. it’s really hot out and my head hurts i’m going to go inside and lay down now. bye guys.

i wanted to see if rebranding would trick my brain into letting me write more (we’ll see if this works… )

i’ve been meaning to rebrand for like six months but i just haven’t been able to come up with a good name. i think i did pretty okay with this one though. in case you don’t know, “the wild kindness” is the title of my favorite silver jews song. i thought it was a cute name + it feels very “me” :)

for the first few weeks of summer i was only really hanging out with old friends. i always walked home with the biggest smile on my face, feeling so very loved. i remember thinking to myself that growing up and moving on is kind of awesome because you know that everyone who bothers to stay in contact really cares about you, even when it gets inconvenient.

up until somewhat recently i had no sense of self. i could barely recognize my reflection at times and always felt like i would only ever be able to know myself on a very superficial level. these days i feel very sure of myself and i think that’s really cool. sometimes i feel like a cartoon character because of how predictable i am. every time i leave my house the first thing i think about is soil moisture levels. seriously. is that not the most stereotypically maahum thing you’ve ever heard?

okay that’s all i’ve got. picture time!

ok love u bye <3

why are 54 people getting emails every time i feel the need to share my stupid little thoughts that’s weird…

this has been sitting in my drafts for what feels like forever. every few months i add 2-3 sentences and then i close it and forget about it until the next time i feel bad about how long it’s been since i’ve published one of these.

at the beginning of college i made a pros and cons list of every single day. i just found it in my notes app. it was my way of getting my robot self to journal i guess. i’m trying to read through it but it feels wrong. like i’m reading someone else’s diary. so many things about people i don’t even think about anymore.

words/phrases that i like

• off season

• decomposing

• karmic

• photosynthesizing

• sleepwalk

• dizzy

• trance

• outgrew

• termites

i think my phone is the most sickening terrible disgusting thing ever and i hope it gets run over by a truck.

i don’t really have anything else to say about this one.

not to be corny but why is everything the most beautiful thing in the world… girls will be like wow this is the best thursday ever every single thursday because life is beautiful and they can’t help but feel unfathomable amounts of joy when experiencing the mundane events of their day to day lives

a year ago i was so scared to go home for the summer (for good reason). this year i think i’m ready for it though. truly there is nothing i want to do more than play skyrim and wander around the city i love so dearly. i told my parents i would start a garden for them once i get back and i cannot wait.

i tried to start making a bucket list last week but this is all i could come up with:

there aren’t many new things i want to do. i’m generally very content with my life. i’m not one to agonize over what could have been because everything is already wonderful now. i see no point in spending all my time focusing on what i don’t have.

okay. i’ve run out of things to say again.
bye maggie

i keep finding myself seeking out normie-esque interests and activities because i am so sick of wanting to be interesting. lately i’ve been finding joy in shitty movies and talking to people in my italian class about tom brady and drake. my favorite movie right now is elizabethtown. one of the top letterboxd reviews for it compares it to “reading the embarassing and cripplingly-twee diary of someone you previously thought to be mysterious and charming.” not sure if i’d call myself mysterious and charming but this substack is kind of my embarrassing and cripplingly-twee diary. i used to be really afraid of coming off as corny and annoying but that doesn’t matter to me at all anymore. worrying about the way that others perceive you is a trap anyways.

see you soon.
-maahum

on a plane. too caffeinated to sleep. head hurts too much for screens. the book i was reading fell apart in my hands a few seconds ago (this won’t stop me from reading it. just needed a break after that). i need to buy glue and nail polish as soon as i land. planes make me feel so small. like i’m just a little insect that needs to be carried outside. thank god. lord knows how much i love to feel inconsequential. i’m always shocked when i find a book that isn’t difficult to read. i think i just spent a lot of time trying to read the wrong books. i thought i’d like walden but that clearly was not the case. i love emerson but it feels like such a situation to read his work. takes so much effort. not something i can get through in one sitting. terry tempest williams reminded me of how much i love to read. reading red felt like reading every non-fiction book about nature i could get my hands on when i was 7. i used to make my mom drive me to the library and i would check out so many books. she would only take me once a week so i had to stock up. i remember checking out 27 books one time (to be fair, they were very short non-fiction books meant for children, but still). no matter how many books i checked out, i would finish them all within 2 days. i read my first terry tempest williams book in one sitting. my 7 year old self would’ve been proud. right now, i’m reading the klamath knot by david rains wallace (the book that fell apart in my hands). on the inside cover is a woman’s name, an address, and a year (1984). thank you diane.

currently listening to columbine by townes van zandt, just so you know. the plane is landing now, bye ☆☆☆

i’ve been wanting to girlblog for the past few weeks. i don’t really have an excuse this time. i think i only ever want to write when i have more important things to be working on. but who am i to decide that anything is unimportant? i haven’t been caring enough lately. everything needs to matter more to me, or rather i need to remember why everything matters so much.

most of my profound thoughts stem from yarn. it makes me feel like a cartoon character sometimes. i own 10 brown t-shirts (while i was packing to go home for thanksgiving break i looked at all the clothes that i had laid out and it was just a pile of brown t-shirts) and i wear the same 2 pairs of jeans every day and all i think about is yarn and bugs.

i’ve been coming to terms with how similar i am to my father. there’s a really good terry tempest williams quote about this (as always) but i can’t be bothered to find it.

i miss being outside. well, i’ve been outside. but only out of necessity. i desperately need to walk for what feels like hours until there’s no one in sight and sit in the grass and listen to birds chirp and nearly forget that i’m a person. but it’s cold. and it gets dark so early. and i have so much to do. i would say i need to appreciate being outside more when i can, but i don’t know if that’s possible.

i’m a big fan of messiness. i’m sure you can all tell. i never weave in ends when i crochet and nothing i write ever makes sense and that being said,

here’s a disorganized draft from nov 24th (what else can you expect from me?)

cannot fathom the idea of social interaction right now

a lot of people really hate their phones and actively feel worse when they use their phones a lot but the only times i ever really feel any sort of dread from my phone is when i feel obligated to interact with people and lately i’ve just been viewing texts as something that i can view more passively rather than some sort of demand. my phone has been on do not disturb since my birthday.

i’m 19 now. i just remembered that. i feel mostly the same but there’s this weird sense of guilt i feel about aging and there’s really nothing i can do about it because time will pass me by forever and ever and ever and generally i don’t really mind the passage of time, it brings me comfort a lot of the time. if i don’t know anything about anything at least i know that tomorrow the sun will rise and set and the seconds will tick away and i will go to sleep and i will wake up and everything will repeat until everything is okay again.

surviving on the steadiness of passing time

on my birthday i went to see my grandma and she hugged me and started talking about how she’s been praying that i’ll get married soon so she can live to see my wedding.

i managed to buy my little brother’s love today. my cousins and i wanted to spend a day wandering around the city. we were planning on leaving my brother at home. he obviously did not like this idea. my mom made him promise to be on his best behavior and she dropped him off at the coffee shop we were at (i’m sure you can guess which one). i wasn’t very happy about this. and then i felt immensely guilty for not being very happy about that so i was extra nice to him. we went to a bookstore. i bought him two books. at night i bought him ice cream and a pikachu hat (he really liked the hat). in the car on the way home he whispered that i was his favorite family member. my mom asked him what he said. “what? oh i said baba is my favorite… okay i lied it’s maahum.“ he gave me the biggest hug when we got home.

okay. that’s all i’ve got.
bye maggie

my mom got married 9 days before her 19th birthday.
my 19th birthday is in 13 days. hm.
you know better than anyone how this has been affecting me, so i’ll just leave it at that.

i feel like i’ve changed so much in the past few years. in a few years i’ll look back on my current self and see her as a completely different person. but have i even changed at all? i’m still the 5 year old girl who wears fuck ass sunglasses every day and spends all her time thinking about dinosaurs and i’m still the 9 year old girl who stays up all night watching nature documentaries and thinking about her own mortality and i’m still the 15 year old girl who refuses to think about the consequences of her actions and insists on making her own birthday cake. nothing is permanent but everything is so permanent. it’s kind of comforting.

journal entry from 10/24/23

“i keep finding myself genuinely upset because i’m not a leaf. like truly, genuinely upset. i feel like i was meant to be some sort of inconsequential being. i don’t care to make sense of my thoughts or emotions anymore”

i remember wandering aimlessly around campus, on the verge of tears, because everything i did felt so important. it was dark and far too cold for me to be outside without a purpose. i couldn’t bring myself to go home or go back to the library so i sat on a bench and tried to write about how i was feeling. clearly it didn’t work very well.

i don’t entirely feel that way anymore, but i think about it every day.

i feel like these little girlblogs are getting less and less organized as time goes on.

i feel like my thoughts have been getting less and less organized as time goes on.

i’ve kind of been forgetting how to speak to people.

i’ve been listening to a lot of porridge radio lately.

i’ve been falling asleep on the floor too often.

okay. i can’t write more.
bye maggie

i’ve been wanting to keep my thoughts to myself recently.

for the first few weeks of this school year i was trying so hard to keep myself occupied. you should see my gcal from then. i was truly booked and busy. for the past few days i haven’t been doing much though. been spending a lot of time sitting quietly on benches or laying on my floor. lots of time to think. i’ve been depriving myself of that. maybe i didn’t want to share my thoughts because they were so hard to come by. i needed to keep them close so i wouldn’t lose them, whatever that means.

anyways, i think i’ve been staying booked and busy in an attempt to escape the monotony of day-to-day life. i’ve never been the biggest fan of routine. i used to live my whole life on autopilot. i prefer to feel like an individual. but i’ve been finding comfort in monotony lately. i haven’t been on autopilot. i’ve been picking up leaves on my walks home and identifying bugs i see while i’m sitting in the grass. noticing when i’m too cold (i used to have to be told when to put a jacket on because i truly wouldn’t notice that i needed one). paying attention in class (kind of). i’ve been present. it’s nice.

i think a lot of the things i write on here are stupid and meaningless and vaguely embarrassing. i don’t really feel as if i have anything of value to share most of the time. i write regardless. here’s a quote from my favorite book

“i write out of ignorance. i write by accident. i write past the embarrassment of exposure. i keep writing and suddenly, i am overcome by the sheer indulgence, (the madness,) the meaninglessness, the ridiculousness of this list. i trust nothing especially myself and slide head first into the familiar abyss of doubt and humiliation and threaten to push the delete button on my way down, or madly erase each line, pick up the paper and rip it into shreds-and then i realize, it doesn't matter”

- terry tempest williams, red: passion and patience in the desert

i don’t think anything i do is that serious. i think terry tempest williams is so real for this. i think about this book every day.

okay. thats all for now i guess.
bye maggie.

every time i sit down to write i start a new draft instead of finishing an older one.

i’ve given up on so many drafts already. some feel too personal. some feel ingenuine. some feel pretentious. all of them feel wrong.

i really don’t care about putting these out consistently (clearly) so this shouldn’t be affecting me. but it is. perhaps my dissatisfaction with my writing is indicative of a greater issue. or maybe it has no meaning. i don’t really know anything.

i think there’s a sense of peace that comes with being able to clearly articulate how you feel. it’s very human to need to be able to understand everything all of the time.

there’s a long list of things that i need to learn to find peace in. confusion is one of them. i have a long way to go but at least i’ve acknowledged it. baby steps, i guess.

the ending of a drunk journal entry from a few days ago (as a treat)

"the upside down electrical socket across from me is staring me in the eye. it’s judging me. i wish i could be normal"

i really don’t know what i meant by this, but i can’t stop thinking about it.

i should get back to work.
bye maggie

my arms are covered in mosquito bites. my legs ache from walking so much. i have bruises all over from moving assorted heavy objects. one is conveniently located at the same height as the bottom of my tote bag so i can’t forget about it.

something about mild discomfort is so human.

it’s really easy to detach from reality. especially when it’s summer. nothing to bring me back to reality other than myself. i’ve found that mild discomfort is extremely useful for grounding myself. a constant reminder of my existence.

walking until your legs feel like they’re about to fall off is a great way to induce discomfort.

when i was little i used to entertain myself by staring at carpet fibers or examining the lines on my palms. i’ve started doing that again. okay well maybe not exactly. but i’ve been trying to be more present. watching how leaves move in the wind. focusing on my yarn when i’m crocheting instead of zoning out. listening intently to the sounds that fill the silence.

sometimes i feel more like a tree than a person. especially when i’m observing. it’s like i’ve melted into the background.

i have so much more to say, but i think i’m done for now
this wasn’t very organized
messiness brings me peace

bye maggie

i’m writing this from my new room in my new house in my new neighborhood. quite strange.

i’ve discovered that i dislike writing about events that are actively happening in my life. i’ve written two whole girlblogs about moving that will be tucked away in my drafts for the foreseeable future.

this draft is kind of a disaster right now. full of half written sentences and ideas i’ll come back to later (i don’t actually intend to come back to them later). song lyrics that aren’t relevant and words that mean nothing at all. it’s kind of beautiful actually. i’ll admit, i started writing this paragraph because i was overwhelmed by all the shit in this draft and couldn’t make sense of it. but i do love nonsensical ramblings.

i feel like i’ve spent so much time trying to make sense of myself. every thought i have, every action i take, every word i say. one of these days i’ll have to come to terms with the fact that i’m not some sort of machine and i can’t possibly expect to fully understand the inner workings of my brain. that day may not be today, but i feel like writing this is bringing me at least a little bit closer.

i’m not entirely sure where my phone is. i used to get so anxious when i didn’t have my phone on me, but these days i feel a sense of relief without it.

some of the aforementioned song lyrics (as a treat)

i'm at the doctors, they're claiming i'm crazy
i tell 'em i'm not, i'm just clinically lazy
none of my clothes are ever my size
i can't stop the lying so i guess they were right in the end

anna bates — oh well

i may have deleted approximately 80% of the things in this draft that were so overwhelming to me earlier, but that’s okay.

it’s 3:43 am now
goodnight

the dark circles under my eyes are really prominent today.

for as long as i can remember they’ve been a permanent fixture on my face. sleep was never more important to me than silence.

when i was 9, during the summer i would stay up all night every night watching nature documentaries in the dark. i’d crack the windows open and listen to the crickets and cicadas and the occasional car drive by (this was back when i lived in the suburbs, there wasn’t much going on outside at night). around 5 i would get into bed until my mom came in to check on me before leaving for work. sometimes i fell asleep. sometimes i laid in silence until the sun rose.

my grandma and aunts would always comment on the circles under my eyes. telling me i needed to go to sleep earlier. i would laugh and agree with them. i never changed my ways though.

i’ve found that i only ever want to partake in my hobbies when i have other, more important things to be doing. i spend my days packing and doing calculus. i’ve been staying up later to make time to write and knit. i keep falling asleep, yarn in hand, airpods in, lights on. tomorrow is my calc 2 final. on friday, i’m moving. after that, i’ll have no urgent matters to attend to until school starts. perhaps the dark circles under my eyes will fade then. or maybe they won’t. either way, i don’t mind.

i should probably be off to bed. my final exam is in 8 hours and 7 minutes.
goodnight

i used to be afraid of bugs. it wasn’t a phobia or anything. it was a normal amount of fear. i could deal with them if i had to, but i preferred it if they weren’t anywhere near me. i absolutely could not kill them. part of it was fear. most of it was guilt. i like bugs now.

every second is forever and everything will be exactly the same for eternity.

i could get abducted by an alien right now and i wouldn’t be surprised. why was i so afraid of aliens for so long? why did i forget about it until now? why am i still afraid of zombies?

it’s a little too cold in my room

i feel like i’m the most neutral being in the world. i’ve been thinking this for months. i don’t really know what it means. well that’s a lie. i know exactly what it means. i don’t know how to explain it though. but that’s also a lie. but maybe this is something you should figure out on your own.

buying a tiny journal was one of the best ideas i’ve had in a long time.

sometimes i forget that i’m a person. that other people are aware of me. that i’m not a ghost or a fly on the wall.

every day i fight the urge to crop all my t-shirts

yesterday i accidentally fell asleep really early. i thought that would fix my sleep schedule, but here we are.

i only write when it’s a little too late at night. i always fear that i’ll wake up feeling rational and reread what i’ve written and feel humiliated. that hasn’t really happened yet but one day i’m sure it will. i guess i could just wait until morning to publish these, but where’s the fun in that?

sometimes i wish i was a tree. most of the time, actually.

a year or so ago i decided to start taking more pictures of things that made me happy. i think that was one of the better decisions i made.

i used to always feel like i was running out of time. then i ran out of time. and everything was fine.

i always think i’m a completely different person from who i was 6 months ago, but when i look back at pictures from when i was 4 i remember that i bought a nearly identical pair of pants last month and i still wear big obnoxious sunglasses and my favorite shoes are still mary janes and my hair is the same length and i still love nature documentaries and i realize that nothing really changed.

i’m so glad i’ve never been a perfectionist

goodnight <3

right now my drafts are full of singular sentences that i’ve written and completely forgotten about. every time i sit down to write something i feel like i have nothing to say.

today i’m feeling productive. i knitted. i took a shower. i cleaned the kitchen and living room. i did the dishes and took out the trash and swept the floor. i tried to find for a new bed frame for my room in the new house (i did not find one). i knitted more. i went grocery shopping. i made dinner (and burnt it a little bit). and now im girlblogging.

i’m moving in 10 days. kind of strange. although i’m not insanely attached to my current neighborhood. no favorite restaurants or coffee shops to lose. no neighbors i’m close to. it’s nice here, but it’s nothing special. i have a feeling my new neighborhood will be exactly the same. and i don’t mind it.

originally, my parents were looking at houses in the suburbs. i wasn’t happy about it but i wasn’t really upset either. i didn’t have any opinions at all. every time my parents went to tour houses i volunteered to stay home and watch my brother. the few times they took me with, they would ask me what i thought, and i would respond with something along the lines of “i don’t know, whatever you think.” in may they decided on this big, beautiful house in a very white suburb. i didn’t feel anything about it. it wasn’t my house. it was theirs. they’ll be living there for the rest of their lives, not me. they should do what they want. i’ll just end up moving out sooner than they expected. i mentioned feeling this way to my mom when we were grocery shopping and she got really sad. “well… i hope the deal falls through then.” a few days later the deal fell through. they only looked at houses in the city after that.

i didn’t tell anybody that i was moving for weeks. i’m not really sure why. i tend to gatekeep a lot of details about my life. positive and negative. so i don’t get my hopes up for good things. so i’m not constantly reminded of bad things. sometimes it makes me feel like it’s all just in my head and i’m going insane. i’ve gotten better about this since high school but not by much.

i’ll be moving again in exactly one month. back to school. honestly, i wish it was sooner. i’m tired of summer. i miss being close to all my friends. i miss not having to justify everything i do. a part of me was sad when my parents stopped looking for houses in the suburbs. no more justification for moving out asap. and part of me feels guilty for feeling that way. but there’s not much i can do about that.

this was longer than usual.
it’s hard to come up with titles for these.
excited to see what the future brings.

bye maggie <3

hi maggie. this one is going to be very unorganized. writing over the course of a few days

currently so very sick of consuming media. overwhelming urge to sit in silence and create or do nothing. coping by knitting and girlblogging and cleaning my room and staring out my window. and maybe i’m also watching a movie. hypocritical, i know (when am i not?). i can’t bring myself to turn it off though. unsure why.

still not bored. so many things to do all the time. so many people to see and places to go. it’s nice. still missing boredom. always doing something. not upset about it. i suppose it’s just natural to want what you don’t have. just like that one front bottoms song (sorry).

extremely tired. just had very good coffee. walked 6 miles. was home by the time i usually get out of bed. not really sure what to do with the rest of my day. being up early isn’t very fun when you’re downtown on a weekday. whatever sense of peace i usually feel in the mornings isn’t there. everyone else is in a rush. getting coffee. going to work. wearing their little business casual outfits. i prefer mornings on campus. quieter. more peaceful.

i keep writing and deleting paragraphs because i don’t know what my point is.
bye maggie

(in case you were wondering, the movie was i love you, man)