And I'm waiting for this task to end.

"You're turning into quite the young lady", my grandmother's words echo in my mind and my laughter chases it through the tunnels of my subconcious. I suppose I am, at that.
Though I still don't quite think "lady" applies yet. I'm still too young for decorum.
I've got one life to live, y'know, and I'm still young enough to enjoy it.
My only regrets are the things I didn't do.

My sleeve still smells of coffee from my walk this morning. Afternoon. What-have-you.
The cup clunked down in front of her with a sense of finality, coming to rest after its 20-minute-long journey. She slept on, oblivious, while the others around her looked at me with creased brow. Asking questions with their eyes.

Theorum.

I sleep more, I'm more awake in the mornings but I have less energy.
I sleep less, I'm horribly out of it in the mornings but I have an endless well of energy.
I sense potential experiments in my future. If I can muster the energy to do them.

I found you on a Saturday and that was where I lost you

I listen with my ears and my body to the music, the drums thrumming my throat like an extension of themselves, and my eyes listen with an almost religious fervor to the lights flickering over my face. Over the faces of the people around me. Over the faces of the people that brought us here.
I look around, at the bodies packed mere inches from me to the people leaning on the railings, watching us with an almost bored expression, to the people on the platform and I realize that I love them. Every last one of them. From the boy watching the dance floor like we're sub-human to the Joker who spins and dips his girlfriend with all the elegance one wouldn't expect in a crowded room.
A hat lands on my head and I look back at his smile. My eyes flick over the rest of my companions, the one who can't stop moving to save his life, the one who looks at us dubiously but dances any way and the one who keeps everyone else in check. I feel laughter bubbling in my throat and I have to turn around before it over-takes me.
"Write love on her arm" the back in front of me declares.
'I will!' I promise silently. 'I swear I will.'

-System error.
Shut down imminent.

Core unit too content.

Reboot?
Y/N

No, nay, never!

There's this boy from London I'm utterly captivated by.
A boy back home I'm sanely in love with.
And a boy in DC that I would quite like to get to know better.
Really, lovely, you don't need to set me up with your friends. I'm quite taken enough.

"Don't you have a boyfriend?" He asks, wrinkling his eyebrows. A look of surprise, disbelief, crosses his face, and I take it as a compliment.
"You look different... Older! You looked 18 when I got here, now you look 20. You've gained weight. But in the good places! Your chest is bigger and you look more... fleshed out. It looks good on you."
I laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

The silk of my "little black dress" slides down my legs as I shift and it makes me shiver a little. I like the feel of it along my sides, as unused to it as I am.
"That's your catching a man dress, you look amazing in that." She grins at me suggestively and I laugh. Partially from the wine, partially because I just don't know what to say.

You may be right, I may be crazy.

Sitting here, listening to the Scattergories buzzer and watching the people I've known for all of three months (or two weeks) bent over these cards, I realized that I'm happy.
I love this place. I love these people. I love the experiences I'm having and the things I'm learning.
I love the half hour walk to the Starbucks and bakery every day after work. I love curling up on the papazan to read. I love getting coerced into going exploring in DC. I love getting randomly invited to go somewhere. I love how beautiful this place is. I love the cider in the glass next to me, making my head a little fuzzy.
I'm so happy here.

...But it might just be a lunatic you're looking for.

You find that she is positively practicing the craft of the wise

I think, on occasion, that I know why I'm constantly so focused on all that is good and shiny in this world. I think I know why all the bad things fall by the way-side of my brain. I think I know why I feel so tired so often. I think I know why I don't let people get too close.
Put gently? Alaska has a high rate of sexual abuse.
I spent four years counciling rape victims. Four years of holding sobbing girls and one winter of stroking a boy's head while he clung to my leg and begged me not to leave him alone. Four years of finding out what it feels like when your heart breaks. On top of coming to terms with thirteen years and three instances of "well, at least I didn't get raped".
I tend to attribute my borderline manic personality to my need to get away from that. Four years of dealing with the after-effects of some of the most deplorable human actions (and one winter spent with the most broken person I've ever known) has left me hopelessly drained, with an appreciation for all the wonderful things life has to offer.
In my more cynical moments, I wonder if it's post traumatic stress disorder that wipes my memory of everything that isn't sunshine and puppies. I have to stop and focus if I want to remember ANY thing that didn't make me smile. My memory starts to get fuzzy after even a few hours. It's like my mind just... deletes things after a while. I hate it until I consider what would happen if my mind didn't.
I'll take sunflowers and rainstorms over freshman year and the apartment ANY day. At least I can say that I've learned from everything.

I don't know. I think of everything as fair game for conversation and I don't keep secrets about my life, but I'm hesitating before hitting "publish post".
I don't trust easily any more and this is a glimpse into my inner workings that I don't afford many people at all. Yet I'm seriously considering placing on the web for anyone to stumble across.
At the same time? I want to record this theory somewhere I can find it again so I can look over it, build on it or tear it down as false.
And I know from past experience that if I just save it to my hard drive the next time I see it I'll call myself a dumbass and delete it.