Old

I was cleaning my room earlier and thinking about the future, which are both really really dangerous things to do separately but potentially suicidal when combined, and the only thing I could really comprehend was the sheer amount of life there is left to be lived. And the amount of it i've already started.

Like how in a few months, me and 952 of my closest friends will walk across a stage and shake the hand of a principal we never really knew, listen to the valedictorian give a speech about our bright futures, and sit awkwardly amongst peers we only vaguely recognize in a ceremony that formally closes our high school careers forever. and afterwards we'll take hundreds of pictures and give thousands of hugs and smile until our cheeks hurt. and then, after four years of (at some times unbearable but at most times unmemorable) high school, we'll be finished and on with our lives.

but I don't want high school to be so unmemorable. I'm realizing that it isn't the homecomings and proms and graduations we'll remember. its the millions of Starbucks runs during English class, the thousands of nights where we lied to our parents and partied far past our curfews, the hundreds of all nighters pulled worrying for precal, and the tens of exams where, when we inevitably were unprepared, we just marked "c", that all add up to the general feeling of nostalgia we'll get when we're 45 and we find an old yearbook.

We'll graduate college, get a degree (for some people, several), settle down and have a family and at some point, wonder exactly which decision it was that turned us into our parents. sorry for that pessimism. I haven't really been sleeping.

this was so convoluted. but I think it makes some sense. which is a paradox, and also a metaphor for the last four years.

-Kelly

ps hey Kevin

Am

...I the only person that thinks completely filling up your gas tank is just the best thing?

i'm the person that they included the "do not top off your gas tank" warning for on the gas pumps. I just feel like my car is so much better when I have a full tank.

Having a full gas tank just opens up a huge realm of possibilities. I can practically drive to Mexico on a tank of gas. Or just downtown. Or just to and from school for a week. The choice is completely up to me, because my car will just do whatever I want.

it's nice to have control over something like that.

So other than those nice thoughts on gas tanks, my life is falling back into that "average" catagory that drives me crazy. Sometimes I love that I don't have tons of stupid drama. Sometimes I'm bored out of my mind.

I think I just need to get out of Plano. And as much as I'm going to hate going to college and having to make new friends, I really need to. I'll obviously miss everyone here, and even though I don't really say it, I'm going to be so lost without Allison and Kimberly and everyone else. But I just have this constant nagging feeling that as great as Plano has been to grow up, I just really need to be out of the bubble and atleast somewhat in the real world. With real people.

So theres a little rant for you.

kfine

When

...it's your job to sit and watch people swim back and forth, you start to notice things.
and for a while I would just look at the ripples in the water, or the pattern that the lap lanes make across the pool. but then i started noticing the swimmers.

specifically, their backs. have you ever actually thought about a back? of course not. why would you? its just there. but now its all i notice. It doesn't matter how old or how big the swimmer is, their back always looks strong. its just all these muscles coiling and moving and turning into shoulders.

we turn our backs on people when we're walking away. we don't face it and just keep staring when we're disappointed. we show that we're sad, but we're strong. we show them our back. it hides our emotion, and we need it.

and we give people our shirts off of it. I've never done that. but you always hear the saying. "that boy would give the shirt off of his back for a stranger," not "that boy would go shirtless to keep someone warm." you give someone something off of your back because your back doesn't really need anything. it supports you, you clothe it.

people who give up easily are spineless, like a jellyfish. its weird that we say jellyfish, and not... crustacean. but its less weird that we say spineless. we think the brain makes the decisions, or the heart for the sentimental. and they do. but the back makes you carry it out. the back makes sure you're okay.

someone has your back. they're there for you, but more specifically, if you're giving up and even your back cant stop you, they can help. when you're backing down, your back is the last thing to go.

even when your back fails, and you're running away, its the last thing that's seen in a final "fight of flight" reaction. you cant live without your back, and your back will do anything to be there. anything.

The TMC patrons probably think I'm just guarding their lives extra carefully. or that I'm looking at their butts as they swim laps. I'm not checking you out, I swear. I'm looking at your back, and your shoulders, and the fact that you're propelling yourself through this water again and again and again and your back is just there, helping you, saying nothing but meaning everything.

you're going to start noticing backs now, i bet.