the well-worn path

i am constantly amazed at how quickly life moves. i went back to notre dame this past weekend and in a way, it was like i had never left. being there felt so normal that it became weird. i felt as though i could stroll into ryan, and our room would be exactly the same as it was a year ago. i still felt like i belonged there - but how could i not belong? i don't know how to not belong. notre dame is one of the places that has taken up residency deep in my heart, with a piece that will never go away. driving away from the dome will always hurt a little bit, like pulling off a scab that's not quite ready yet. it was good to be back, but bittersweet.

this past weekend also officially marks a year since the accident. i guess i never realized until after what an awful time that was for me...being positive sure takes a lot out of you. i'm a little amazed at how i managed to be so determined to not let it ruin my year...but i guess that force of will is something that comes only and exactly when you need it. but damn, it felt good to tread that terrain with two feet again.

you held me down in this starless city

i feel like i've created a world for myself out of my nostalgia. why is it that we can only experience things once? if you want to look at it the pessimistic way - memory is only a lie, a sad reminder that these times that made your heart swell are gone, and that every time you recall them they'll be more and more blurry, until eventually you can't remember at all?

it's enough to make anyone lay down and cry.

and yet -

why is it that a simple bass line can get inside my soul? how is it that when i hear a certain song, i'm immediately transported to my sixteen-ear-old self in the throes of selfish adolescence, or my eighteen-year-old self throwing snowflakes in the air, or my twenty-year-old self tripping on cobblestones on the streets? why is it that a simple line of poetry can make my heart clench? why is it that so many verses and lyrics and lines stop me cold and make me think that yes, yes, this is what i have been trying to say all along?

the truth is, art is what keeps us here. it is what makes this life, these shining un-relivable moments strung together like christmas lights, less of a line and more of a circle. i firmly believe that we would die withough art, without musicians, without writers. we are the lifeblood of the world. engineers and businesspeople keep the world running--but we, the artists, give it a reason to run at all. there is too much beauty in the world to ignore it.

this is what gives me hope. the artists of the world have given me something to relate to, something to hang on to, something to love. someday i hope to give that to someone else, another twenty-something year old who is grasping at straws to follow their dreams.

just a stranger on the bus tryin' to make his way home

to this day the smell of airports and ck one brings me back to those days where i almost can't believe how carefree we were.

we lived hard and we never thought twice. i ran through the streets of london in flats so fast that i got pins and needles in my feet. we drank entire bottles of wine and danced in clubs, laughing. we spent money on cover and gin and tonics and theatre tickets and overpriced sandwiches for lunch. we went to movie premieres and shrieked as we reached out and jumped for a glance at someone famous. we took trains and planes to corners of the world we'd never seen before. we broke out of our shells because for once, in this city, we could be whoever we wanted to be.

i know it's pathetic but i still miss it more than i can say.

you're the only song i want to hear

i remember your face when we walked into the hot spicy air of the thai restaurant and to this day i can't help but burst out laughing at the memory. you shifted from foot to foot and rubbed sweaty palms together as we stood awkwardly in a dining room small enough to be a closet, and with a sheepish smile you slowly asked me if i wanted to go somewhere else. i remember those tentative early days as a sweet dream, all first dates and first kisses and long walks in the dark. i can't remember feeling the same way about anyone else, even the people i pined for, cried over, thought my heart would break over. the way i felt about you at the beginning was never full of anguish or guilt or stress. sometimes we bear our teeth and swipe our claws but when it's all over, curled up together like quotation marks, i know that the story of you and me are unlike anything i have ever scribbled out before.

i do believe it's true that there are roads left in both of our shoes

sometimes i wish i could live in a book, where everything is always just that much more extraordinary. no one writes about ordinary things, after all, that would make for boring reading. no matter how everyday or plain the main character is, something always happens that makes them more interesting, gives them that touch of uniqueness that you need for the plot of a book.

sometimes i think that no one would want to write about my life right now. in a way, things are exciting and changing, but there's not that strange bit of zaniness that could make it much more interesting, i guess. my interesting days are behind me. sometimes i feel like i could write a book about my college years and that would make for some good reading, but...now, in this city that thrives during the day but actually sleeps at night, i feel ordinary. happy, contended, surrounded by people i love...bur ordinary.

i guess i just want that extra spark and that is the reason why i'm itching to do something, go somewhere. maybe that's why i'm missing my whirldwind european days so much, because all i long for is to sleep where i can hear the sounds of the street, to gaze blearily at a city all lit up and bump shoulders with people in crowded squares and streets at night. dc isn't too shabby by any means, but it's way too full of career-minded people who don't have enough fun. don't get me wrong, i've had some great times here and have been meeting some great people, but everywhere i turn i am reminded of the "get ahead" mentality.

but i am not part of that. i can't be a part of that. i want to do something i love but how can a career be my first prority when there is travel and excitement and love and bright neon lights and life all around me in the world? dc can be lovely but in my heart i am feeling that it's a transitional place for me. i've got other places to see.

and it goes on and on and on

it's so funny to think that i've only lived about a quarter of my life. i feel like i've already been through so much of it, but it's crazy and slightly overwhelming to think about, well, how much MORE there is. i guess when i was little everything seemed so far away in the future that i never really thought about it.

i'm slowly getting adjusted to "real world" life, figuring out exactly what it's like (as opposed to this idea i had in my mind) and being me, living in a city...well as much as i can from my cricket-infested bethesda basement. it's weird because at the same time, i felt so much more independent in london than i do now (and before you ask, invisible reader, no, it's not because of boyfriend issues or the lack thereof...) - i guess there i really had no limitations and a whole ton less responsibility than i do now. and i guess more responsibility should mean less limitations but let's be honest, my life in london was eating, sleeping, drinking, traveling, and squeezing class in between all of that. no worrying about rent, no worrying about a job, how i'm going to get home at night...it was very carefree. even though i was broke most of the time, even though i worried myself sick with boy issues, none of the memories i have of london are marred by any of that. all i remember are the wonderful, amazing times i had in those four months and the feelings of overwhelming happiness that i associate with that whole time. i have said this before and it was so true - i was waking up for the first time after a very long sleep.

i have always thought about london a lot, but recently it's been a lot more frequent. maybe it's because i'm riding public transportation every day again, maybe it's because one of the summer interns in the office is heading back to school in london as i write, maybe it's a thousand other reasons why. either way, i have an itch to go back that started the day i left and has been growing stronger ever since. i'll go back someday, i know, but i'm starting to get impatient waiting for that day to come.

and don't even get me started on ND. fingers crossed for tomorrow.

i wanna be forever young

Things that are great:

Hearing a song for the first time that stops you cold. You're out somewhere, you hear it, it just stops you. You're convinced the moment you hear it - might be the greatest thing you've ever heard to date, and it has the power to change your life. Go with it, because thing 2 is related.

Seeing the one you love in a completely ordinary, random moment that you find beautiful and crystalline and epic, and it reminds you of why you love them in the first place: because of what's inside them. And trust me when I tell you this, that thing that happens with music happens with love. Believe in love at first sight, its as real as anything else in this life.

Thing three is the day when we don't have to mention the word "first" in conjunction with, say, Barack Obama or Katie Washington.

Thing four of the greatest things in life: Regis Philbin in any form.

Thing five is being from somewhere; being part of something larger than yourself. Its part of our identity as we go through life, and its a powerful thing. As of today, you went to Notre Dame...take in those bells when they play the alma mater, come back and visit Touchdown Jesus, and bring your kids to the grotto and buy them a quarter dog and tell them, tell them you didn't go to college - you went to Notre Dame.

-- Brian Williams